#free tupperware with my lunch meat

[gideonisms]

Obsessed with people who are cheap about things that are not that hard to acquire at low prices. Yes we SHOULD be taking tp from work. Nona was right

[littleblondesoprano]

4,9, 14, 24

Thank you!! :D!! I'm whacking this under a Read More because apparently I like to talk, lol.

4) List five of your favorite recipes, share them if you like!

1) Peanut Butter Ramen: I've been addicted to this lately. What you're gonna do is get your ramen noodle block (whichever you like, but mom and I get our favorite kind from Costco). Cover it in water and pop it in the microwave for 3 minutes.

While that's cooking, you're going to assemble your Team. You Need: Peanut Butter (any kind, but we use Justin's, the one with honey in it), Garlic Powder, Onion Powder, Five Spice, Ginger, Coconut Aminos (can use Soy Sauce in its place). Raw veggies, sriracha, sesame seeds, and french fried onions.

You're gonna slap like half a cup of peanut butter, however much garlic, onion powder, ginger, and five spice you think you want, a splash of coconut aminos, and mix that shit together. You now have your peanut butter sauce.

Next, your raw veggies. You can throw legit whatever you want in there, but I use bell pepper (Red), carrot slices, green onions, purple onions, and cucumbers. Slice your veggies to mouth-sized pieces to your heart's content!

Drain out the water from the ramen with a similarly sized plate on top of the ramen noodles. Once you are done choppin, plop in a good 3-4 heaping tablespoons of your peanut butter sauce to the ramen, all of your chopped veggies, then top with sriracha, sesame seeds, and french fried onions! Combine and FEAST. Keep in the fridge, and you can easily get 4 meals out of this sauce.

2) No Bake Cookies (Boiled Cookies) I've had these so many times in my life and they are always fucking bangers. Cannot go wrong with these!!

3) Salmon-Avocado Sushi Salad: Mom and I make sushi for lunch (and I usually get two more meals out of sushi rolls too) and all the leftovers go into a big bowl that I call 'sushi salad' and can eat 2/3 of before feeling sick because it's just so good that you don't want to stop eating. Keep in mind: This recipe is for 2 people across multiple days - it's 5 meals out of this amount, including sushi salad. Which is a lot, in and of itself.

You Need: 1 Can Salmon, 2 packs Nori sheets, 2-3 english cucumbers, 3-4 carrots, 3-4 ripe avocados, black sesame seeds, Coconut Aminos, 1 red bell pepper, 4 cups sushi/sticky rice. Tupperware containers. Water. Big Knife. 3 bowls. Rice cooker.

Properly clean your sushi rice and pop it in the rice cooker (or use the stove, whatever). While that is cooking, slice your english cucumber, carrots, and red bell pepper into long, thin slices. Drain your canned salmon and turn on the sink to make the liquid go away faster bc my god does it stink. Empty salmon into bowl, and crack open your avocados - scoop out whatever meat inside is not bad and add it to the bowl with your salmon; once all avocados are free of their husk, get a potato masher or fork and go to Town. I like my meat mixture like a green ooze, but if you want chunks, don't go Fully to town. Take an Exit or two before you are at Blob level ooze. Set off to the side.

Get another bowl and fill it almost to the brim with water, this is to dunk your Big Knife in so the sushi/sticky rice does not adhere to it in between cuts, bc it will TRY.

Once rice is done, lay out a Nori sheet and cover in rice, making sure to leave space at the top - like the header on a google doc - to wet so the Nori will stick to itself and Become Roll. Layer in your fillings - we start with sesame seeds, then the Meat Ooze, then cucumbers, then carrots, then bell pepper before Rolling. Do this until you have today's lunch, and two days worth of sushi (usually, two medium sized tupperware containers, single layered).

Now armed with your left overs, you're going to cut up the rest of your veggies into bite sized pieces and throw it in the bowl with the Meat Ooze. Toss in a handful or two of sesame seeds, two Nori sheets (torn up, for bite-ability), and not all of the rice, but a good chunk of it. Top with a shit ton of Coconut Aminos, stir up, and Enjoy. :3

4) Pickle Chicken: This is a pretty easy one, but it is time consuming. You Need: Chicken Breasts, Big Pickle Jar (24 oz), Garlic powder, Onion powder, salt and pepp, panko bread crumbs, flour of your choice, egg or milk or both, an Air Fryer but two is better.

You're gonna beat up the chicken and then submerge it in a bath of pickles and *lots* of pickle juice. Marinate them bois in pickle juice in the fridge for two days. Come back to it having assembled a wet and dry breading station: in one container we have a beaten egg, or milk, or a mixture of both - and in the other corner we have our Spices (onion, garlic, probably salt, pepper and w/e else you want) flour, and bread crumbs. Beside that we have as many air fryers as you can plug in without throwing a fuse.

Spray the insides of the air fryers with nonstick things, like Pam. Take that Pickled goodness known as chicken out of its briny grave, dredge in the dry, then the Wet, then the dry again before tossing very quickly (but not too quick to splatter) into a heated air fryer. Do this until all fryer space is full or you are out of chicken. Flip the chicken at the 10 minute mark, then fry an additional 12-15 minutes, or until the internal temp reads at least 165F/80C. Then pop that sucker on a sandwich, or enjoy with honey mustard if you know what is yummy.

5) Rotisserie Chicken Salad (Add Dill if you like Dill. And green onions) I used to eat a version of this for a while when I first came home from college! Very good, very refreshing, esp with crackers or on a sandwich with some lettuce + cucumbers. (Pro tip: cherry tomatoes on the side go beautifully with this. I also add like, half of the mayo, I don't like my chicken salad soupy.)

9) If you could go anywhere in the universe and in time, where would you go? What would you do? Who would you be?

I would go back to Ancient Rome, when the Coliseum was almost completed. I had a dream - but it just felt different than a normal dream - that I was standing on top of a hill, with, I guess, my partner in that life, watching a big block being lifted with a rudimentary crane as the sun was just starting to set. I want to go there, not just to see what I think is a past-life version of myself, but to just look down from that hill. I have the image stuck in my brain - it's been a few years since I had the dream - and I really want to see it for real. I'd also just really love watching a naval battle happen in the coliseum bc that sounds wild.

14) Would you ever visit a lighthouse?

I have already! On vacation a long while ago (2012-ish?) we visited the Saint Augustine Lighthouse in Saint Augustine, FL. It was beautiful, and really fun! The view is so worth going up all those stairs, and, it's haunted! We mainly went bc it's haunted, but it was really fun! I'd totally go back. And ofc, I would visit a lighthouse, they're often haunted and I'd fucking love ghost hunting in one.

24) Be honest, do you have stuffed animals?

I have many!! I'll even show ya pictures! I have two Ghostface plushies because I fucking love that man, that mythos, that bod, that knife.

I have a lil ghostie who falls off my bed every single night, so I just put him on the floor. And a GIANT ghostie that I got from TJ Maxx last year in the Halloween section because I loved it.

A big ol' bat!! I think I got it from Michaels when the Halloween stuff was on sale. And I have a bat Ugly Doll (does anyone else remember when those were big?) I have my other Ugly Dolls, but they're in a bin. The Bat has special privileges on account of being a bat.

I have a bichon frise dog plush, bc my paternal grandma had a bichon named Bebe and I loved her dearly. This plushie is named Sassy though. I think mom got her for me when I was a toddler bc we were on a long car ride (10 hours) and I didn't have a stuffed animal with me.

I have Beast, from Beauty and the Beast. I got him from when I went to Disney, almost eight years ago? He falls off a lot. And a $6 Build-a-bear from the $6 build-a-bear day. I got it in college; it used to have little overalls, but they ripped so I shoved the fabric in my fabric stash (ziploc bag) and now it is Nakey. It is also ripped down the back for some reason, and I gotta try and sew it back up.

A ram, very fluffy, very cute. It holds up the rest of the plushies. Foundational King.

A ragdoll plush that looks a lot like Fluffy when she was little! Dad bought her for me when I moved four hours away for college, so I wouldn't miss my Fluffy as much. (Read: I did miss her just as much, but the plushie was very nice).

A roadkill Bunny that I adore! The ones on Etsy sold out way too fast, so I got one from Amazon. The quality is definitely not as good, but I love it just the same.

A giant sheepdog! I don't remember if I named it or not, it's been so long. I took it to college with me because I legit cannot sleep without it or without pillows/a person in its spot. I need to have both sides of my body barricaded when I sleep. i am not joking when I say my body wakes me up if it falls off of the bed.

I also have all the plushies (stored away, ofc) that I loved when I was little, like the sock monkey mom passed down to me (Monkey-Lunkey), or Googly-Eyed Scooby, or the horse from Toy Story.

[letssgolesbians]

a collection of eco friendly lifestyle ideas + swaps from various sources around the web:

reusable makeup remover wipes/cotton rounds - i use these and they’re way softer on the skin and bigger so you can use multiple times before washing either in sink or with a laundry load.

cutting products open when they are almost finished - will acc save a lot of money and means that even if buying sustainably is inaccessible to you (valid!) you can make products last for longer

freeze your overripe fruits for smoothies - all tastes the same, means you can make ur own cute lil smoothie mixes and they are often thicker!!

wash dry and reuse plastic bags - they’re almost unavoidable, but you can reuse them easily (i do this for my lunch!)

buy slow fashion - to some this might be too pricey which is totally fine!! but for my uk ppl: run and fly, lucy and yak, and fat face all look rly good and have fun clothing.

eat plant based food - you don’t have to be a vegetarian, you can do meat free monday or just choose the mcplant over a normal burger at maccies! quorn has acc aamzing chicken nuggets and often supermarkets have vegetarian aisles!

support your local farmers market - they often do not wax their apples and you will actually be able to support local businesses instead of big corporations! they also are just fun to go to :)

use a bar dish soap and a bamboo brush

to wash your body, buy bar soap and a net type pouch for it to be able to save it and exfoliate, often less expensive and not packaged in plastic, more scents or you can even make your own!! i’ve heard black african soap is rly good!

use a recycled plastic toothbrush over a normal one - you can use bamboo, but for me bc of sensory issues i can’t, so this is a nice compromise!

use beeswax wraps for food instead of clingfilm - they are more sticky and thick so accessible for people with motor issues (maybe, correct me if i’m wrong but less delicate?) and they have fun patterns and are available from lots of small businesses

instead of liquid hand soap, either use a bar soap or my preference would be a glass pump bottle and tablets that you can dissolve as i find bar soap hard to handle, but bar soap you can keep in tins!

use a reusable water bottle - you can fill them with fizzy drinks or energy drinks, there’s no rules against this!! they keep your drink cold and are sturdier then plastic, and definitely cheaper!! you can also draw on some or stick stickers on to make them more ‘you’!

use cloth napkins and ‘unpaper’ towels instead of rolls of paper towels

buy in bulk

use an ice tray or machine instead of buying big bags from the store - less heavy definitely, and you can add fruits and make ice pops with trays!!

use a refillable or natural deodorant- i use wild (uk ppl!!) and it smells nice, the refills are easy and come in paper and i have a rly cute metal holder!!

you can get reusable cupcake papers - esp for my ppl who like the lick the bottom, they won’t fall apart XD!

use a kindle - reduces the amount of paper books you have to buy, easily transportable, can lend books out to ppl and cheaper books!

bring your own lunch - esp if ur a picky eater like me, i often bring a cheese sandwich and some crisps places so i’m not stuck not eating or choking down food i don’t like and leaving leftovers, also means you can use your own plastic tupperwares instead of store bought single use things lol

grow your own things - i used to grow strawberries as a child and it was surprisingly easily, some ideas are bottle tower gardens and a kitchen herb gardens, you can also grow cat grass and catnip for all my cat parents out there :)

collect rainwater for your plants - just keep a mason jar in your backyard if you have one, or journey out when it’s raining and fill a jar, will last you a bit!!

that’s all i have for now but feel free to add more!!

[scenicphoenix]

I think many people agree with me that getting cheap utensils and Tupperware is the best play because if something molds you don't have to get close to the mold and can just toss it

Like having stuff that lasts is good and worth it, but I also don't want to risk that good stuff to the mold because my brain automatically goes (get rid of everything) so I'll only use my good stuff for certain occasions or if i have the motivation to clean them immediately because executive disfunction and shit object permanence :D (lack of motivation and shit object permanence is a shit combo, you have no idea how fast things can mold when you forget that they exist half the time and don't have the motivation the other half of the time)

I will save things like my favorite things (i have a favorite fork) and things like my glass cookware if they do somehow get moldy. Because sentimental value and glass cookware is expensive. But something like cheap dollar general cutlery is getting tossed if it's moldy

Most of my Tupperware that i use is yogurt containers and such. It's basically free Tupperware you buy with your food. Reuse the yogurt and lunch meat containers

[thathusenfulhu]

butchery in the islands

so, i'm trying to see how far i can go, gauging the reach of these little wings buoyed by their 200 odd followers. a couple of days ago, i messaged @island.butcher - i read a piece about them on lonumedhu.com and i just had to see what they were about. they were eager to collab. no funny stuff, i said. only utter and complete honesty. a guy called barry, who was handling their comms, asked me to come by their butchery to collect the meat the next day, and sent me a recipe for ginger beef. what a start. so, i told thakuru that i wanted to make ginger beef and asked him if he could cook it for me. but of course! was the enthusiastic response. bless the man. 'where's the beef from?' he asked. 'uh, sri lanka,' i told him. 'but from grass-fed cows.' 'as opposed to cows that root in the rubbish, eh?' thakuru said. funny man. the next afternoon, i have trouble finding the place, which is supposed to be near fathaha mall on maaveyo magu. as i turn my head about like an anxious owl someone says: 'you looking for us?' it's a well built sri lankan man. he must be barry, i think. because barry = well built. and into the butcher's we go. it's cold. goddamn frigid. two pink carcasses hang on hooks. the fridges hum quietly. it's like i've stepped into that episode of salad fingers. 'i like it when...the red water comes out,' i mutter. 'hmm?' says barry. 'oh! i'm husenfulhu by the way,' i say, offering my hand. 'i know,' says barry, his handshake firm. 'you look like one.' huh, how about that? 'here's the meat,' says barry after a guy weighs it. it's almost two kilos of silverside in a bright shade of red. vermillion? ruby? that has to be good, right? i think so anyway. i know my beef. 'keep it refrigerated,' says barry, handing it to me in a blue plastic bag. later, i message thakuru who turns up and takes the meat off my hands (ha). 'it'll be ready by lunchtime tomorrow,' he says and motors off into the dusk. i trust thakuru. he's like a slightly nerdier version of alibe. and i do mean slightly. like alibe, thakuru excels at everything whether it's gutting a fish or folding laundry or coding a website or composing music. one day the world will know thakuru's music, i think. and you can tell a lot about a man from his cooking. so i am drooling by the time thakuru sends me a photo of the beef simmering in a pot. it's around noon the following day. 'quick, get me the grub!' i text. 'take it easy, i'll be over in a bit.' i text my wife's cousin naseemaaththa and her husband firag, who live in the same building, saying i have something beefy for lunch. 'ooh, come,' they say. soon, the man is here and i snatch his tupperware like a famished thief and hurry back in. my people are waiting. 'looks good,' remarks firag as i pour the contents of the tupperware onto plates. and my god. it is great! thakuru is a meticulous man, his conscience free of turmoil for he has struck the balance between good and evil. everything is as it must, no flavour tries to subdue the other. the beef is slightly chewy, which thakuru says is because of the cut, and very flavourful. 'good meat,' remarks firag. 'does it have lemongrass?' 'ginger,' i tell him. 'i can taste it though. maybe your friend used some sort of paste?' asks firag. and we empty our plates, go for seconds and thirds before calling it quits. when thakuru messages i tell him my assessment. 'you know, i DID use a thai sauce, that's where you're getting the lemongrass. those tastebuds are spot on.' and who am i to turn down a compliment?

[echovoidheart]

best thing about buying lunch meat is the free tupperware

[jessamine-rose]

Househusband Twst ♡ Savanaclaw Husbands

We have reached the penultimate dorm for my Househusband! Twst series!! Let’s proceed with domestic Savanaclaw  o(≧∇≦o)

♡ The laziest househusband ever. You can’t overlook Leona’s numerous “nap breaks” or the fact that he pays Ruggie to do most of his work. But you already knew that when you married him, no?? And despite Leona’s work ethic, you will always come home to a comfortable house. Leona can promise you that.

♡ Sleeping in the same bed as him is nice. The bedroom is the one part of the house which Leona will clean by himself—the two of you deserve a good night’s sleep!! The bed will be soft, the pillows will be fluffed, and it will be so difficult to leave for work. Mostly because your husband is holding on to you like a clingy cat. The first ten minutes of your morning routine will be spent convincing Leona to let you get out of his arms bed Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

♡ Compared to other spouses, Leona would have the audacity to just order food or to give you lunch money. But when he does cook, you’re in for a treat. He’s good at preparing meat and he only buys high-quality ingredients for you!! (Good luck convincing him to cook veggies, though) Leona doesn’t believe in the “home-cooked food made with love” sentimentality but he does it for you anyway~

♡ If there is one domestic duty which Leona won’t slack on, it’s taking care of your kids. The thought of having children with you is extremely significant to Leona and he will take responsibility for it. He’ll take naps with your little brats and use his Unique Magic to make personal sandboxes for them, brushing off their childish delight at King’s Roar. You once came home to find your bed transformed into a pillow fort, with Leona sleeping inside it and your lion babies declaring him King of the Pillow Savannah!! ((o(^∇^)o))

♡ Leona may not be a perfect househusband, but it’s the little things that show you just how much he cares about your marriage. He will listen to your work ramblings and make you rest take naps with him. He will demand your cuddles and company on your days off. Late at night, when you’re finally in bed, Leona will pull you close and let you fall asleep in his embrace. Tch, the househusband life is so troublesome but for you, it’s worth it.

♡ As if the role of a househusband isn’t already unbelievably taxing, Ruggie still has the energy to take on more jobs as co-provider for your family. You can tell him that taking care of your home is enough, but Ruggie wants to contribute to your financial security as well. It lightens your workload and responsibilities!!

♡ Having said this, being your househusband is still Ruggie’s full-time occupation and number one priority!! He is the one who will wake you up each morning, keep track of your budget, and be on the lookout for grocery sales. Armed with his trusty Broom-kun, Ruggie will clean the entire house in no time flat—then he will offer his cleaning services to other households. “Shishishi I did a good job today!!”

♡ Appreciate Ruggie’s cooking!! From wild vegetable soup to sauteed dandelions, he can cook a variety of creative dishes inspired by his grandmother’s techniques. Ruggie is also keen to attend lots of parties and neighborhood events for the free food. He brought lots of Tupperware containers for that reason!! He can thank Kalim for the week-long break from kitchen duty ^o^

♡ It will take a lot of time and family-planning for you to start having kids. As much as he’d love to have a family with you right now, Ruggie wants to make sure that he is prepared for it. Fatherhood is a demanding addition to his domestic duties—when that happens, he will stop accepting part-time jobs in order to raise your kids. Your little hyena children will be so cute, helping Ruggie around the house and trying to sneak candies from the pantry!! :3

♡ The both of you will be absolutely exhausted by the end of each day. It’s going to be a battle of who still has the energy to take care of their spouse—be the victor and let Ruggie rest tonight!! You of all people know how hard he works for your sake, and he deserves a reward. Give him lots of affection, buy doughnuts on your way home, and remind him that it is important to take a break. The both of you are working hard to give each other a happy future and you can do it together!! (=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

♡ Being a househusband, it is important for Jack to stay in shape!! It helps that his daily chores keep him physically active. Cleaning the house, carrying groceries, lifting furniture, going out for errands—it all counts as a full-body workout ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

♡ He takes his job very seriously. Jack will wake up super early to start preparing your breakfast and bento; on his more indulgent days, he will cook something sweet like your favorite dessert or his favorite pear compote. He will be the one to wake you up and remind you of any forgotten items on your way out. He’ll even walk you to the front door as you leave for work!! “Have a good day…stay safe—what?? My ears are down because I’m letting them rest!!”

♡ Jack’s choice of home decor is more simplistic. Your interior is affordable, pretty enough, and not so crowded that it gets in your way. Though you do have lots of potted cacti adorning the furniture—don’t their small prickly bodies and little flowers make for good decorations?? Jack will take care of his numerous cacti children like a proud parent!! And maybe someday, he will be raising a few little wolf children of your own <3

♡ While your coworkers don’t know much about Jack, they have a very good impression of him. Remember that time a blizzard struck your area while you were at work?? Jack picked you up from your office to ensure a safe trip home!! (He brought an extra coat and scarf for you, too) Or what about the time you injured your ankle at the office?? Jack showed up as soon as possible and carried you home!! *coworkers swoon in background*

♡ You must have been blessed by the Great Seven to have such a responsible and devoted househusband like Jack. Despite his tsundere speech, you can tell by his actions that he puts so much love and effort into taking care of you and your home. Give him lots of praise and thanks, even if he tries to reject it. You know that it makes him happy!! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ♡

♡

My Savanaclaw brainrot was so bad....... I’m pretty proud of this one and the previous part :’3 I hope you enjoyed reading these and pls stay tuned for the finale of my Househusband! Twst series!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Heartslabyul ๑ Savanaclaw ๑ Octavinelle ๑ Scarabia ๑ Pomefiore ๑ Ignihyde ๑ Diasomnia

Tag a Savanaclaw stan!! @tsunonotarou @churrosnt @leonameowzz @aivy-saur @theblackbirdsgemimagines @twisted-crumpets @tinyfantasminha @twstwonderlandstuff

[love-and-monsters]

Harpy Model

M harpy X GN human, 6,762 words.

This story is based on this post that I was tagged in by the lovely and talented @p-gretz. Thanks for the inspiration!

You fumbled with the camera equipment in your hands. The tripod kept trying to escape under your elbow, but shifting to secure it would mean losing the lens cap, and grabbing for that jeopardized the magnifier you had balanced against your collarbone. If people stopped dumping things on you at every given opportunity, you probably would have been alright, but being the lowest member on the totem pole meant your status was barely better than a self-propelled table.

The tripod slipped another inch down and you automatically grabbed at it. The sudden movement unbalanced the camera in the center of the pile. With a clatter of plastic, it slipped free, tumbling toward the ground.

A feathered hand snagged the camera strap, jerking it to a halt seconds before it struck the ground. “Need some help?” a slightly accented male voice asked.

“Thanks, but I got it,” you said. A total lie. You could not have had it less if you’d tried.

“Nonsense. At least let me take something so you can get better situated.” Before you could protest again, he had removed several of the objects, tucking them into his feathered arms.

Without the constant danger of dropping something if you so much as twitched, you were able to shift the pile in your arms into a better position. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I-”

You froze. It felt embarrassingly out of character for you to look at someone and freeze, but his face made something in your chest do backflips.

He was elegantly made up, with touches lengthening his lashes and emphasizing his cheekbones. His hair was pale and curling in little waves around his ears. Delicate feathers sprouted around his neck, trailing down toward his arms. They were pale white, with touches of pink. His tail was easily the most striking part of him. Long, green feathers made a train behind him that brushed the floor and gave him the impression of a trailing cloak. He stood delicately on bird-like talons, poised like a dancer.

Fortunately, your freeze only lasted a couple of seconds, and you disguised it by pretending to drop and recover one of your many items. “Sorry. I’m trying to go to studio, um. A12, so I’ll just be heading over there-”

The man laughed. It was more gentle than mocking, but you felt your stomach shrivel in embarrassment regardless. “Really? Then you’re heading in the wrong direction. I’m headed in the same direction. I can walk you there.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” you said.

“It’s not a bother. You seem like you could use the help.” You blushed furiously, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He shifted the camera he’d taken from you into a more comfortable position in his arm. “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“Yeah. I’m, um. The new intern, basically. You’ve been here for a while?”

“I work with a few different photography places as a model. But I’ve had a contract here for some time.” He flicked his tail casually. “If you need help, I can show you around a little bit when we’re done. This place can be a real maze until you get used to it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose on you like that. I mean, you’re probably really busy and I don’t want to take up any of your valuable time-”

The harpy laughed. “My time is hardly the most valuable time here. And, if we’re being really honest…” He leaned in close to your ear. His feathers tickled as he put a hand up to his mouth. “I don’t mind making some of the people around here wait. They’re all really stuck up.” He leaned back and dropped you a glittery wink before strolling on ahead. “Come with me! It’s this way.”

You hurried after him. He had a particularly flowing, graceful way of moving. It wasn’t hard to believe he was a model- even if you hadn’t met him in the studio, you would have guessed it. He moved like he was always on a catwalk.

The studio was particularly maze-like. There were multiple winding halls with several doors each. Only a few small signs gave any sign of where anything was, and casual racks of clothes strewn around the hallway blocked more than half of them. The harpy, however, strode through the halls with a practiced ease.

After several turns, you finally came across a door marked Studio A12. The harpy pushed the door open and paused to let you through before stepping in himself.

“Revali! You’re late!” An impatient-looking woman glared across the room at him. You froze automatically, but he just put down the equipment he’d been carrying on a nearby table and gave you a wink.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he said. You turned away from him as your supervisor approached you.

“You’re late too,” he said.

“Sorry. I kind of got lost.”

“I know it’s your first week here, so I’m not going to scold you for this, but being on time is important here. At least for the photographers.” He cast a disparaging look at Revali who was chatting cheerfully with the stern-looking woman. “Models get more leeway.”

“He doesn’t seem so bad,” you said. “I thought a lot of models here were kind of stuck up.”

“He’s not stuck up,” your supervisor agreed. “He’s got the opposite problem. He doesn’t take anything seriously. One of those types who float through life on nothing but their good looks.”

The photoshoot started right after he spoke and you were immediately swept up in the business of it all. Your job was essentially doing whatever anyone needed of you, and they needed a lot. You spent most of the time scrambling around, fixing lights, grabbing accessories, fetching camera equipment, and being a general gopher. The photoshoot lasted only an hour and a half, but you were exhausted by the time it was over.

You sagged by the door, waiting for your next task to be assigned. Revali was having some sort of conversation with his manager that seemed to be verging on an argument, at least on her end. Revali looked as casual as ever.

His manager said something stabbing a finger in his face. He didn’t even flinch. He just lifted one of his shoulders in a slight shrug and, with a flick of his tail, strolled away.

“Ready for the tour?” he asked as he walked over to you. He had a particular way of walking, like he was constantly on a catwalk. It really was more of a strut than a casual walk.

“I already said you don’t have to. And, um, I don’t want to get you in trouble.” You made a subtle head motion toward his managers, who was alternating between looking at her phone screen and glaring at him.

Revali tossed his head. “She’s not my mother. She doesn’t control me. I do what I like. And right now, I’d like to take you on a tour of the studio. Why don’t you come with me?”

You glanced back at his manager. Revali shifted in front of you, blocking her from your sight. “All right,” you said. “But it can’t take too long. I’ve still got other responsibilities to take care of.”

Revali nodded and gestured for you to follow him out the door. “Like I said, this whole place is kind of a maze. I swear, they designed every section to look as similar as possible. But, you can figure out where all the studios are because it’s broken into sections. The stairwells are always marked with the sections. Even numbers are always to the right when you get off the stairwells and odd numbers to the left. Here, I’ll show you how to get to a couple of the bigger studios-”

Revali was right- the entire place seemed to have been designed like a weird, spiraling maze. You ended up needing to take notes on everything he told you. When you finally came to a stop, you were almost dizzy from all the turns you’d needed to make.

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around. “I haven’t been in this part of the building before.” It was almost indistinguishable from the other parts of the building, with eh same florescent lights and powder blue walls, but there were larger signs next to every door and they were spaced closer together.

“Yes, you probably haven’t needed to come down here yet.” Revali opened one of the doors and stepped inside. It was a small room with a large mirror taking up most of one wall, a couch, a minifridge, and a few racks of fancy-looking clothes. “They’re the model rooms. Those of us who have long-term contracts here get our own little spaces when we’re not working.” He strode across the room and sprawled on his couch.

You stood in the doorway. One of the models taking an interest in you and then inviting you back to his personal room? It was hard to keep your imagination from going places. “Hey, uh. I don’t want to be rude, but if you invited me back here for some, uh, fun, I’m not really into casual flings, so-”

Revali shrugged. “Whether or not we have sex is entirely up to you. I’ve had a couple flings in here. Honestly, they didn’t do much for me.”

If he had been attempting to make you more comfortable, it had backfired. Great. Now you didn’t want to sit down anywhere. You remained in the doorway. “Why did you bring me here, then?”

Revali shrugged. “You seemed overwhelmed,” he said. “And it’s much quieter down here.” There was a series of thumps and cursing on the other side of the wall. Revali glared at it. “Mostly, anyway.”

You plucked up your courage and settled on the couch next to him. He grinned. “Also, it’s lunch time and I like eating with other people. I make way too much food all the time.”

Revali grabbed a few Tupperware containers out of his minifridge and lay them out on the table next to you. Most of them appeared to be some sort of meat covered in a thick sauce. Revali was looking at you eagerly, so you took the fork he was offering and took a bite.

“Oh!” you said. “It’s good!”

“Yeah?” Revali said. “I cook when I’m stressed, so I always have more food than I need.” You took a few more bites, enjoying the richness and spiciness of the sauce over the umami of the meat. Revali leaned back, watching you eat with a strange amount of intensity.

“Um. Are you going to have some?” you asked, gesturing to the food. Revali made a face.

“Can’t. I have my own lunch here.” He pulled out an uninspired-looking salad with a few strips of grilled chicken on top.

“You make food, but then you don’t eat it?” you asked. Revali shrugged.

“The life of a model. I do need to keep in shape,” he said. “But I’m always cooking, so you can come over any time you want. I’ll give you a free lunch.”

“You could try at least one bite,” you said. You lifted a piece of meat on your fork and held it out to him. Revali lifted a brow. “Come on. You made all this. I’ll feel bad if I’m the only one who gets to eat it.”

Revali’s brow lifted a little higher. “Well, if you’ll feel bad, I suppose I have no choice but to spare your feelings.” You had intended for him to take the fork from you, but instead, he leaned forward and picked the chunk of meat off the fork with his teeth. He sprawled back and chewed, eyes closing. “Mm. It is good.”

You glanced around the room. It was slightly messy, with clothes and makeup strewn all over the place. Nothing was dirty, but it was a little cluttered. “How did you get into modeling, anyway?”

Revali opened his eyes and pushed himself more upright. “It was a few years ago. Just started doing a few local things, then I got scouted by my current agency. It’s not the most fun, really, but it’s pretty good money. Better than flipping burgers at a fast food restaurant, at least.” He shrugged. “Never finished college, so my job prospects are pretty limited.” He eyed you. “What about you?”

“I finished college a month or so ago. Studied photography. I’m hoping that this internship will lead to an actual job in the future, because right now I’m kind of living off my savings.” You gave a weak chuckle. “I kind of wanted to do my own photography thing, but, you know. Better to have a stable job.”

“Don’t I know it. I’d love to do some more interesting projects, but these ones pay well, which is what my manager likes.” Revali checked his phone and grimaced. “I’m going to have to head to my next shoot in a few minutes. You can hang out here if you like. Just put stuff back when you’re done with it.”

“I should probably be getting back now anyway,” you said, standing up. “Thank you for the lunch, though. You’re a good cook.”

“Thank you. Come back any time. Like I said, I’ve always got food. Actually, let me walk you back to the photo area. Just to make sure you get there all right.” Revali held the door open for you as you stepped into the hall.

“I’m not that hopeless,” you said, starting to head down the hallway. Revali snickered and you stopped. “What?”

“You sure?” he said. “Because, uh, you are going the complete wrong direction.”

“Oh,” you said. “I. Um. That’s embarrassing.”

“You’ll get used to it. Eventually. Here, I’ll show you the way.” Revali linked his arm through yours. “This all right?”

“Sure,” you said. “Thank you. Again.”

“No problem at all! Now, we should probably hurry, so I don’t get yelled at twice in one day. My manager would blow a blood vessel.” Revali headed off at a rapid trot, forcing you to jog to keep up.

Meeting him for lunch became a regular practice after that. He usually had something new and interesting for you to try, and he seemed to enjoy your company. Every day, you would slip out of work and head down to his dressing room for at least half an hour. A few times, you lost track of the time and had to sprint to make it back to your next shoot.

“They’re really putting you through the ringer, huh?” Revali said as you collapsed on his couch. He was wearing the sparkliest blue jacket you’d ever seen. Whether it was actually for a shoot or not was up in the air- Revali was the sort of person who would wear it out and about.

“It’s all right. I wish I was allowed to do more than just menial labor, though. I knew I was going to get the tasks people didn’t like when I started, but I wish I had more learning experiences. I feel like I’ve barely held a camera for something other than handing it to someone.”

Revali stretched his arms over his head, wings twitching. It was always interesting to watch the way they moved. They were a combination of wings and arms, with feathers sprouting all along his arms and the wing tip and hands separating at the wrists. Whenever he wore long sleeves, he needed to cut slits for the feathers and tied the ends closed around his wrists. They were usually tied closed with some sort of bangle, so he nearly always jingled when he moved his arms. “That’s a bummer. Have you been able to take any photos at all recently?”

“Nah. I’ve been too busy. When I get home from work, all I want to do is collapse. And I’ve been having trouble getting inspiration. I’ve been trying to get out more and do some shoots in nature, because it’s a lot nicer than the manufactured settings we have here, but I’ve been having trouble finding a model.”

Revali sat up straighter. “Having trouble finding a model, hm? Well, isn’t is just so fortunate that I happen to have some skills in that particular department?”

“Are you sure? I can’t really pay you much. That’s part of the reason I’ve been having trouble getting some models. When your job isn’t paying you anything, you can’t afford to hire someone for an afternoon. And I’m just not connected enough to find someone willing to do it for free.”

“I think we can help each other out,” Revali said. “I do actually need some new photos for my portfolio, and I think it would be nice to have a more natural setting. Let me use the photos and I’ll do it for free.”

“You’d be willing to do that? And you’re not too busy? I know you’ve kind of been running ragged for the past few days,” you said.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Like I said, it gives us both something we want.” He whipped a phone out of his pocket and started tapping on the screen. “Let’s see. I’m free Saturday afternoon, if that works for you?” You nodded. “Wonderful. Text me your address, I’ll stop by and you can take me wherever you want.”

Your phone timer dinged and you jumped to your feet. “Oh, shoot, I need to get going. Um, I guess I’ll see you then? And thank you!”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Just go.” He waved a hand at you. “I’d hate to see you get yelled at on my behalf.”

You scrambled out the door, waving goodbye to him once more before heading down the hall.

Waiting for Saturday became the highlight of your week. You deliberated over the best location, eventually picking a slightly secluded, riverside area. Revali had agreed to bring some of his own outfits, which he had allowed you to approve. They were simpler than the outfits he usually wore to work, with more natural colors, but he still looked good in them.

You spent a lot of time fussing with your cameras on the day of the shoot. It would be terribly embarrassing for Revali to show up and see you unprepared.

The knock on your door was startling. You carefully placed your camera on your table and hurried to answer it.

Revali was leaning against the doorway. “Hello, darling. Ready to go?”

He was wearing some fancy-looking gold and silver makeup and he’d done something to plump up his tail. It was long and fancy typically, but he’d added long lines of beads and fluff to his tail, making it look even more striking than usual.

“Wow,” you said. You were suddenly overly conscious about how messy your hair was and the fact that you’d just kind of thrown on the first clothes you’d laid your eyes on in the morning. Would it be weird if you made an excuse to go change? “Uh. Do you want to come in for a minute? I just, uh, need to finish something up.”

Revali stepped into your house. “Nice place,” he said, glancing around. You snorted.

“Please. I’m renting a house in the middle of nowhere that has, like, three rooms. Uh, make yourself comfortable. I just need to, um. Grab a jacket.”

“It’s nicely decorated, though. You have a good aesthetic sense.” Most of the stuff you had was from second-hand stores, but it did all sort of go together in a sort of farmhouse-chic way.

You hurried into your room and swapped your old sweatshirt out for a nicer shirt and one of your nicer jackets. The pants were staying, they were good enough. You hurried back out into the kitchen. Revali was examining a few of the photos that adorned your walls.

“You take these?” he asked. They were mostly nature shots, images of animals or flowers up close or landscape shots of rolling fields or mountains.

“Yeah. Most of them were for class. I just hung up the best ones,” you said.

“They’re nice. I like them. Do you like taking picture of nature better? Than of people, I mean.”

“Um. I mean. They’re both nice, just in different ways. There’s something really meditative about taking pictures of nature. It’s peaceful. Working with people can be harder, but it’s also kind of rewarding? Like, taking photos for a wedding is really nice. You get to capture a really great moment in someone’s life and then, when they look back at it, you help them remember the good moments. I like being able to do that for people.”

Revali looked at you. His eyes were bright, assessing. “Why do you work for the studio? It’s not any of those things you said, peaceful or rewarding. It’s mostly just stressful.”

“It makes money,” you said as you headed for the door. “Why do you work for the agency?”

There was a pause, long enough for you to get in the car. “Because it makes good money,” Revali finally said. “And it also means I get my face out there. I like being well known, you know.”

“I can’t imagine wanting that. I like being behind the scenes way more.”

Revali settled back in the seat and watched the fields roll by. “Where are we headed?”

“Um, there’s this nice little riverside area in a stand of trees. I thought it might make for some pretty photos.” You glanced at him uncertainly. “I hope that’s okay with you. I know you said you’d be okay with a nature shoot, but hope you’re not going to be too upset with a little dirt. I’ll try to keep you out of it, but-”

Revali burst into peals of laughter. You twisted your head to stare at him before realizing that you should probably keep your eyes on the road. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t laugh! It just struck me as very funny, but you had no way of knowing, of course.” Revali wiped a stray tear away. “Do you know where I grew up?”

“No,” you said. He hadn’t told you, had he? Revali seemed unoffended. He ran a hand through his hair, which somehow still looked artfully tousled. You were temporarily distracted by the way little tufts curled loosely around his ears. Hurriedly, you turned your gaze back to the road.

“I grew up on a farm,” he said. He fluttered his feathers. “I’m a cockerel harpy- I’ve got my fancy show feathers, but I’m not exactly a bird of paradise. It’s a family thing. I grew up working in the dirt and mud, and whenever I go home, I’m expected to do it again.”

“I never would have guessed,” you said honestly. He had the soft looks of someone who had never worked hard labor, but when you looked him over again, you could see how his smooth muscles might have come from farm work. “Your family didn’t mind, then, you going to be a model?”

“You think I have some sob story about running away from my strict farm father to pursue my dreams of being in the spotlight?” Revali smirked at you. “No. My father was disappointed, I think. He did want me to carry on the tradition. But I’ve got two younger sister who are much more invested in the farm life, so he didn’t have any fears about passing everything on and both my parents are the ‘follow your dreams’ sort, so they probably would have let me go anyway. I’m not sure they understand what I see in modeling, but they support me nonetheless.”

It was a short drive to the little grove. You parked out of the way and gathered your camera equipment while Revali looked around the area. “It’s pretty,” he said, inspecting a spray of yellow flowers. “You have a good eye.”

“Thanks.” You carefully placed the tripod. “Okay, first things first. I want to get some full-body portraits first, then we can move on to the up-close stuff.”

Revali was easy to work with, easier than you would have guessed from the number of arguments he got into with his manager. He posed gracefully, responded to your every critique thoughtfully and carefully, and even put up with your artistic considerations with far more patience than you would have expected. Even when you spent several minutes forcing him to hold a pose while you got the angle just right, he didn’t complain.

About two hours after you had started, you called a break. Revali shrugged his artfully-held jacket back on and lounged against a tree. “Can I see some of the photos?” he asked.

You considered for a moment, then handed the camera over with the same care you would with a baby. Probably more, really. “Just don’t break anything, all right?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Revali said. “I’ve only ever dropped two cameras. And one of them survived with only minimal damage!” You stared at him in wide-eyed horror. “I’m kidding! I’ll be very careful.”

He clicked through the camera’s photo roll. You sat nearby, leg jittering nervously. His expression was inscrutable.

“These are nice,” he said after a few moments. “I mean, they’re quite good. Better than a lot of the shoots I’ve been to recently. I like the shadow and light here.” He tapped at the photo on screen. You leaned over to see which one he was talking about. It was one of the close-ups, where Revali was staring up through the trees. The sunlight dappled leaf shadows across his face and picked up the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

“It’s just a photo of your face,” you said, a little embarrassed by the praise. “I mean, it’s hard to make you look bad.”

“Oh, you’re being too modest. A poor picture can make anyone look bad and my lovely face can only do so much. You’re the one who set up the shot and was all clever with the lighting and whatnot.” Revali gave a little wave of his hand. “Honestly, it’s better than a few of my modeling pictures. And you’re much better at giving direction than most of the people at the studio. I swear, the number of times I just get told to look pouty at the camera is ridiculous. Or ridiculously esoteric shit. ‘Think about your best friend returning after a long time away’ my ass. Just tell me exactly what to do with my face and I’ll do it.” He stopped and gave you a slightly embarrassed look. “Not to make this about me, of course. But yes, you are quite good. It’s a shame you don’t get more projects.”

You shrugged. “I’d like to do more independent stuff. But I just don’t have any connections and I’ve been having a hard time getting gigs and, well, it’s just hard when you’re getting started.”

Revali tilted his head to one side. “Things will get better,” he said. You huffed out a sigh.

“I hope so. I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t get to do something interesting in my actual job soon.” You fiddled with a few of the camera settings again. “Ready?”

“Certainly.” The photoshoot commenced once more. Revali seemed to be putting his all into the shoot, which you appreciated. He probably could have slipped by with just posing halfheartedly, but he was really putting effort forward.

You spent longer on a photoshoot than you had expected. Revali was nice to work with, cracking little jokes at every opportunity and being patient with any technical mishaps. The sun had started to sink toward the horizon by the time you were done.

“Sorry that took so long,” you said. “I didn’t mean to take up your weekend.”

“I’m really fine.” Revali flicked his tail, combing his fingers through the long feathers. “You apologize a lot, don’t you?”

“I just don’t want to come across as rude,” you said. Revali laughed.

“That’s one thing you certainly don’t do,” he said. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Still,” you said as the pair of you headed back toward his car, “why don’t I buy you dinner? It’s the least I can do.”

Revali looked down at you. His dark eyes glittered with interest. “If you’re offering, then I’ll certainly take you up on it.”

It took some driving around, but you eventually settled on a small café fairly close to Revali’s townhouse. He selected some sort of salad and you picked out a sandwich. Revali was right, the place was quite good. “I’ve never been here before,” you said. “I guess I haven’t been eating out for lunch as much, though.”

“I’m pleased my cooking is so good to you,” Revali said. He picked at his salad, moving the leaves around more than he was eating them. A knot started to form in your stomach.

“Hey.” Revali looked up. Your tone must have been strange because his expression became serious. “Um. You don’t, um. Eat much.”

Revali lowered his fork. “Ah. I did notice you staring during meals, but I suppose I was trying to flatter myself, thinking it was entirely my good looks.”

You felt hot. “I’m sorry, I know it might be rude to bring it up. But I’m just a little worried. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Hm,” Revali muttered. He put down his fork and shifted in his seat. His feathers rustled and ruffled. “I did have some trouble with eating well when I was younger. It never developed into a full-blown disorder, but I have always had a bit of an issue with maintaining my looks. I suppose my current representation isn’t helping with this issue.”

“Your manager?” you guessed. Revali gave a tight-lipped smile.

“Yes. I gained a pound the other week and got a bit of a lecture for it. Apparently, thin men are in right now. Harpies are usually fine boned and slender and all that, but I suppose it’s not quite enough for her.” A swell of anxiety crested behind his words.

You fiddled with a toothpick. “Can you get new representation?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t. She is the only available representative for the company I have a contract with right now. And even if I could switch, I don’t have any guarantee that the next manager would be any better. Extreme dieting is not exactly uncommon in the modeling industry.” He sighed, picking up his fork and poking at the salad a few times before spearing a large bite and shoving it into his mouth. “The contract actually expires in a couple weeks,” he said, swallowing the bite. “She’s not happy about it. She really wants me to sign on again, but I haven’t done it yet.”

“What’ll you do if you don’t sign on again? Try to go somewhere else?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been modeling for a few years now. I’m not sure what else to do. But I’ll admit, I don’t love the culture. It’s not great for my mental health, in all honesty. I just don’t know what else to do.”

He looked so despondent that you couldn’t help but reach across the table and take his hand. He stared at your fingers for a moment before lifting his gaze to yours. “I’m sure whatever you chose will be the right thing,” you said. “I think, if your modeling career is bad for your mental health, then you can quit. You’re more than just a pretty face, you know? You know more about photoshoots than you think you do. You’ve got a good sense for lighting and you’ve even got a better idea of colors than I do. And you’ve got a really great fashion sense. I think there’s a lot you could do.”

Revali blinked at you for a moment, then his face broke into a breathtaking smile. A blush stole across your face, blazing in your cheeks. He looked unbearably beautiful. It wasn’t just the features of his face, though they were all very good. It was the clear and genuine delight that the smile conveyed. “I don’t think I’ve had someone compliment me so sweetly in a long time! At least, not on something other than my looks.”

“Not to mention, you’re a kick-ass cook,” you added. Revali laughed and took a sip of his water. You weren’t sure, because he had quite a bit of makeup on, but you though you could see a hint of pink tinging his cheeks.

“If I’m looking for a less stressful job than modeling, I don’t think being a chef is a good choice. And I’m not quite good enough to be in the industry. But it is nice to have my skills complimented.” He took another sip. “But thank you. Being a model can make it so your looks are the most important part of your life. It’s good to be reminded they’re not the most important thing about me.”

You shrugged. “Hey, I’m not much in the looks department, so I’m pretty good at looking past that.”

“Now, now, don’t be modest. You’re quite cute yourself,” Revali said, dropping a glittery wink. You felt yourself flushing again.

After dinner, you returned home and bid Revali a farewell. You spent the evening examining the photos you’d taken. Most of them were quite good. At the very least, they would make good photos for your portfolio. You considered them for a few moments, then pulled up the bare bones of your website and started uploading the photos.

The next day, you joined Revali for lunch again. He was wearing more than his usual makeup, but even so, you could see the slight puffiness around his eyes. “Tired?” you asked.

“Ughh. My manager and I got into a fight last night, after I got home. Things were said.” He massaged his forehead. “Tell me something good, darling, I need it.”

“Um,” you said. “I set up my website last night? Or I started setting it up, at least.”

Revali focused fully on you. “Your website?”

“Yeah. Um, I hope you don’t mind, I put some of the pictures we took up there. I want to see if I can start freelancing, at least in my free time.” Revali perked up. The tired look slid off his face.

“I don’t mind. I’m used to having my pictures all over the place. So, you’ve decided to start doing your own thing, now?” He leaned toward you.

“At least a little bit. The hardest part will be getting clients. Once I build up a little bit of a base, I can start getting people by word of mouth and stuff. But it’s difficult now.”

“I’d expect so,” Revali said, but he appeared to only be half paying attention. His gaze had become a little unfocused, like he was thinking about something else. “You know what, my next shoot’s in a few minutes. You can hang out here if you want. I’ll see you later.”

You met for lunch a few times in the next couple of weeks. Revali’s mood seemed to have improved. He was much more cheerful and, to your great relief, he seemed to be eating more.

It was almost exactly two weeks after you’d had your photoshoot when Revali sought you out at work. “I was going to come by for lunch,” you said. “Is something wrong?”

Revali seized your hands. “No. Things are great! I just told my manager to fuck off!” He proclaimed it loudly enough that several people in the vicinity turned toward him. You ignored them.

“That is great! I’m so glad for you,” you said.

“That’s not everything,” Revali said. “I have a surprise for you.” His tail twitched and flicked with excitement. “Follow me!”

Revali tugged you through the building, down to his dressing room. “Okay. Remember how you were talking about having trouble getting clientele?”

“Yeah,” you said cautiously.

“Well, I’ve been a model for a while. Which means I have some connections and some favors.” Revali opened the door and tugged you inside. “So, I thought I’d call some in!”

The room did not look different. You looked cautiously at Revali. “Uh. What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“This!” Revali snatched a stack of papers off a table and thrust them at you. You flipped through them. “It’s the information of people who want to have photoshoots! There’s a couple of weddings, one person wants a pet thing, a couple of people want you to take photos for cosplays- I told them all that you were really good and you’re easy to work with and a bunch of people were willing to give it a shot.”

“You got me gigs?” There was a note of incredulity in your voice. “Like, paying gigs?”

“Yes! I told you, I have some contacts and some favors. I pulled a few strings.” Revali fluttered his wings.

“Thank you,” you said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“All the information you need is there. You can contact them all for more information, but it should have the basics.” Revali sprawled across his couch. “I figured that if I was going out, I might as well use my connections for good.”

“Going out?” you said, perching on the couch next to him.

“Yeah.” Revali rubbed at the back of his neck. “I told my manager to fuck off, remember? There’s a solid chance I’ll get blackballed for it, and even if I don’t, I don’t think I want to do this modeling thing anymore. It hasn’t been great for my mental health. And I’d like to be seen as more than just a pretty face.”

“You have plans?” you asked.

“No. I’ve got some money saved up. I figure I can afford to coast for a little bit. And if it really gets bad, I’m sure my dad would be happy to have me back on the farm.” He laughed, but you caught the slight downturn of his mouth. You ran your finger along the edge of the paper stack.

“If you’re interested, these are a lot of jobs. I think I could use a little bit of help,” you said. Revali blinked at you. “I can’t pay much, but it’ll be a little bit of money and if I start getting really good, I can hire you on full time. You’ve already shown you’ve got an eye for this stuff.”

“Really?” Revali said. He stared at you disbelievingly. “You’re willing to do that for me?”

“It would help me as much as it would help you. I mean, you’ve already been a huge help and you’re not even working for me yet. I think we’d make a good team.”

Revali looked enormously delighted. “Oh, thank you! You’re incredible!” With no warning, he ducked forward, his hands came up to the sides of your face, and he pressed his mouth to yours.

Your brain short-circuited temporarily. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind. Just a bunch of sensations. Mouth. On your mouth. Kissing. Revali was kissing you. Passionately. His hands were on your face. His feathers were tickling you. His breath was warm on your face.

He broke away from you before you could gain enough sense to kiss back. Revali grinned sheepishly. “Oh. That was sort of supposed to be the grand finale. We were supposed to go out for dinner first. I just got excited.”

You pulled your thoughts together. “You were going to ask me out?”

“I thought you deserved something for taking me out a while ago. And I’ve been thinking about asking you out for a while. But you looked so cute there and I was very grateful, and I just couldn’t help myself,” he said. “I hope you didn’t mind too much?”

“No,” you said. “I didn’t mind. At all.” Revali smiled. You were drawn to the curve of his mouth, the fullness of his upper lip. “But, maybe just to make sure, we should do it again?”

Revali’s smile got bigger. “You know, I was thinking that I’m not going to have this dressing room much longer. There are a lot of things we could do in here. Celebrate our moving on and all that.”

“Let’s start with kissing,” you said, “and we can see where it goes.”

Revali leaned closer to you. “Start with kissing. I can do that.”

[sapnxps]

(WTL) Chapter One: Greg the Neighbor- Georgenotfound x Reader

If I knew that when I moved to London, I'd have two weird neighbors, I'd laugh in your face. Now I'm friends with an old cat lady. Now I'm enemies with my cute neighbor that's definitely not single, who also screams too much.

Even though he's a dick, why can't I stop thinking about him?

My parents told me I’d regret moving to London from the state before I left because I’d miss them and the US too much.

They were half right.

I’m sitting on a box messily labeled ‘kitchen’ in the hallway of my new apartment complex. I huff, wiping the sticky sweat from my forehead. The moving bill is almost 4 thousand dollars. If I knew moving would be this expensive, I wouldn’t have moved out from my parent’s house until I was 40. Sure, I moved a lot of my belongings across the Atlantic ocean, but 4 thousand dollars? Who do I look like, Jeff Bezos?

Today has been hectic, to say the least. Three of my boxes somehow drifted away to Spain. Don’t ask me how that happened, I don’t even know. I’ve been unpacking by myself all day. A box of my kitchenware got shattered upon arrival. I should’ve listened to my Mom on that one, she told me to just buy plates and glasses here instead of shipping them here. Big mistake I’m never making again. Finally, the biggest chunk of my problems: My apartment is full of boxes and I don’t feel like unpacking. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress for two days, maybe not, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. If one more thing goes wrong, I think I might lose it.

Begrudgingly, I lift myself up from the box I was sitting on. It’s a bit dented now, but the way it felt on my ass, it’s just pots and pans. I open the door, pulling this box into my apartment. I weakly push it into the kitchen. It collides with one of the boxes filled with shattered plates. The sound of the broken glass sliding across the box sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I need to make a note to properly dispose of that. Turning my head to look around my new home, I feel my brain's short circuit. All these boxes unpacked, I’ve barely made a dent. This is going to take for-fucking-ever. Moving is modern-day torture. Oh, that’s funny. Remember to tweet that later.

The next three hours of my life are taken up by filling up my kitchen cabinets and drawers with cutlery and various kitchen utensils. The counter was now less bare, housing my toaster and breadbox. My Tupperware containers sat in a special place in the far-right cabinet by the sink. It looked like this home was lived in, as long as you didn’t glance anywhere else besides the kitchen.

I soon after tackled the bathroom, which was the less intimidating room compared to the living room and bedroom. I got the shower curtain hung up, which made it look nice. The rug found its way to the floor, protecting my feet from the cold, cream tile. The shelves were now stocked with a few fluffy peach towels and soaps. Underneath the sink had cleaning supplies as well as spare toilet paper. Living alone meant having nobody to give you another roll if you finish the other one. Kinda sucks. I had a boyfriend during high school, and two years into college. I dreamed of living with him, we planned it all out. I’d finish college, we’d move to a city and rent out the tiniest apartment we could find. We’d live it out until eventually we made ends meet and the rest would be. Dreams cut short though, he cheated. It’s part of why I left in the first place. Needed a change of scenery, new people.

That’s where I am now. New people. Stuck on that part. Haven’t gotten a chance to meet any, which is oh so tragic. I can’t decide if I want to introduce myself to the neighbors or let them come to me? I’m stuck pondering on the thought until I hear a knock at the door. I wonder if my lost boxes have mysteriously arrived.

Opening the door, I’m greeted with an older woman, holding out a small cake into my space.

“Hi dear, I’m your neighbor to the right. Heard all the commotion, saw all the boxes. I had to see for myself the fresh meat in the complex,” She paused before lightly tapping my arm with her free hand. “Just teasing! It’s great to have another lady on this level. The young man to your left, handsome fella, never comes out much though. Hopefully, we can have a girl posse or something,” Her posh accent made her much different than me. Is it wrong to already feel isolated?

I grin at her, moving out of the way to invite her in. “Nice to meet you, feel free to come in. I apologize for all the boxes scattered around, moving has been proven to not be quite my talent,”

The woman smiles brightly at me, shock plastered on her face. “You’re American!”

“That I am,” I chuckle. She hands me the cake, which I gladly accept. My diet has consisted of soggy hash browns from the complex lobby. She makes her way to what is settled in the living room, politely setting herself on my suede blue couch across from the large wall in the room. I place the cake on my counter by the stove, making a mental note to grab a slice once the woman leaves.

The shock never leaves her aged face, “Oh goodness! How amazing. I have a foreigner as my neighbor. You’ll find London quite lovely. I know how it feels to be isolated and removed from what you’re used to, but I promise you’ll fit right in,” She says as I settle myself on the loveseat a bit away from the couch.

“Where are you from?” I ask. She obviously isn’t American.

She smiles, “Just a bit east of Surrey. South of London. Beautiful area, grew up on a small cottage,” The woman was glowing as she spoke of her hometown. She was obviously proud of where she grew up. Compared to my southern Arizona town, this place seemed like heaven. A cottage? Sign me up.

“Sounds lovely,” I speak truthfully.

“Welp,” The woman slaps her laps, a way of signaling it’s time to end the conversation. Despite only speaking for a small amount of time, she seems like someone I can come to if I ever have questions about London or the terminology that I hear around the city. I’ll need to remember that she’s the neighbor to the right. As she began to see herself out, I remembered the other neighbor she mentioned. The young man to the left. I believe she used the term ‘handsome fella’ to describe him. Once she was out in the hall, I felt the need to find out more information.

“Oh!” I shout, hanging myself out into the hallway. She pauses her steps, turning back to me. “By the way, who’s my other neighbor? The guy you were telling me about. Does he have a name?” I ask.

“Greg,” She nods, resuming her short walk back to her apartment.

Greg. Ugly name.

I completely forgot about the conversation by dinner time. As I was munching down on my cake, delicious by the way, I heard loud yelling from my right side. I wouldn’t even call it yelling, more like high-pitched screaming. Who was my neighbor over there again? Greg? Greg. He was causing a ruckus and a mere heart attack at that. He was screaming so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s facing a very, very gruesome murder right now. Well, I guess I don’t know any better. I’m just wishing for the very best.

Another hour passes. The yelling never stops. It’s only 8, but my body is as awake as ever. I still have yet to get used to the new time zone. At times it was difficult, but I’m using it to my advantage now. I have some extra time to unpack and get my actual bed ready. My bed frame was put together professionally during lunch, so that was one thing checked off my list. The mattress I ordered was delivered yesterday. Now it was just the matter of putting the sheets on and preparing my duvet.

Fitted sheets fucking suck to put on a bed. I was currently struggling to put it on my nice mattress. It was edging close to 10 pm. The sky was dark, and I was stuck in some odd mixture of a starfish and the downward dog position. If this moment was a picture, it could be used for blackmail. The closer I got to finally getting the top right corner on my bed, the more stretched out I became. I was like one of those sticky hands you’d get in those toy dispensers at the grocery store. I was just about to get it, when another loud shriek could be heard. In shock, I slammed my head on the bed frame and lost grip of all four corners of the sheet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled underneath my breath.

Whatever. He probably has a greater reason to be screaming like this, right? Justified shouting, whatever you want to call it. My bedroom is closer to his apartment than the kitchen was. Is it nosey to try to figure out what he’s saying? I don’t want to be that type of neighbor. I’ll continue minding my business because I don’t want to find out some weird shit about Greg that I don’t want to know.

The screaming never stopped.

In fact, if anything, it got louder. And louder. And louder. Is it okay to call the cops here?

It’s midnight now. The next fucking day. And Greg is still screaming at the top of his lungs as if everyone else isn’t asleep. If I saw some normal citizen just trying to get some rest, I’d be fed up. Well, I’m still fed up. I’m also running on a messed-up sleep schedule, so it’s not like I was trying to sleep anyways. My bed is made now, and comfy as hell. I built a shelf to house some of my small decorations, with the entertainment of my noisy neighbor’s yells to accompany me. For some odd reason, it made me feel less lonely.

At about 2, I began to reject the company. I felt irritation grow in my chest as I heard the same high-pitched shrieks that I heard at 8. The annoyance that bubbled in me overtook my politeness. Before I knew it, I was up and in the hallway banging on his door. I didn’t have the time to care about my Daffy Duck pajamas sticking to my legs due to the heatwave hitting England right now. Before I even realize it, my fist is slamming on his door. I never knew I had the power to knock that hard, but my anger and blossoming resentment overpowered me. I continued banging until the door pulled away from its frame. Now I’m face to face with Greg.

Boy was he handsome.

I was met with a man, about 5 foot 9. His dark brown hair was disheveled. Strands of hair laid across his forehead messily. If he wasn’t screaming, I would’ve thought he was sleeping. He was wearing a fluorescent green hoodie with an odd smile plastered on the front. It was a bit large for his skinny frame, that’s unimportant though. His grey sweatpants were twisted on his legs. What the fuck was he doing? His face was delicately shaped. This jawline looks sharp yet fragile like it was constructed of the most fragile rose crystal I’d ever seen. His brown eyes reminded me of caramel, thick and way too easy to get lost in.

“Hi, uh Greg-” I start. I’m just realizing now how close I am to him. The scent of his spearmint gum floods my nostrils. It’s a bit powerful, crinkling my nose at the smell. It wasn’t gross, just very shocking.

“George,” He spat. That’s fucking embarrassing. I’m meeting him for the first time and I got his name wrong. I’m not taken aback for long though, because his attitude oozing from his simple correction was enough to disgust me. I’ve done nothing wrong to him, except maybe get his name wrong. Was my moving too much of a nuisance to him? Poor little British thing, he can deal with it.

I cringe, “Oh, um, sorry.”

He leans into the door frame, sweatshirt adjusting to the movement. Forget a tiny bit large, he was swimming in this thing. “Yeah, no problem. Can I help you or are you selling girl scout cookies at,” George checks his watch. “2 in the morning. If you are, I’m not interested, sorry ‘bout that,” His outfit makes me feel a lot less aware of mine. Despite his face being rather attractive, the outfit makes him look like he just rolled out of bed.

“Oh, yeah. I was wondering if you could lower the volume a bit, please. Or just stop screaming entirely, if possible. I don’t know if you have some weird shouting fetish, but I certainly don’t,” I chuckle. George, however, doesn’t chuckle. Actually, he looks rather unamused. If a human was an art museum, it would be George. Curling into a ball and falling into an endless void doesn’t sound too awful right now. I think I’ll add that to my itinerary. I’ll do it in my bed so I’m at least comfortable while I’m drowning in my own self-pity.

He grimaces, “Yeah. Sure.”

He’s blunt. Got it.

The second I turn my back to the door, it slams. Wow. What a cunt. Shaking the interaction off, I begin to feel the wear and tear of the day beginning to hit me. Moving all those boxes made my muscles ache. The solution to all my problems today seems to be going to bed. Not that I’m not okay with that, just funny. The day before I left for London, you’d think I was shocked by lightning. The electricity that was running through my veins was no match for any ADHD medicine the FDA had ever approved. Now, my body is beginning to fall victim to the earlier time zone. Not that it was a big deal, it was going to happen eventually. These next few days would just entail a difficult sleeping schedule. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.

I quickly find my way back to my own bedroom. The yelling was quieter, but I could still hear George through the thin walls. He was murmuring to someone softly. This apartment complex was all 1 bedroom apartments. He didn’t live alone. How lovely! I made a fool of myself to him, and he was most definitely telling his partner right now. Talk about dignity, am I right?

I scrolled through my phone for an hour, before the screaming returned to its original volume. Would it be overdramatic to say I felt my face go red with anger? I don’t think so. I think I handled the situation as politely as I could. Hell, I even cracked a joke so he could know I wasn’t that upset over the situation! If I knew he was going to resume his disruptive noises, I wouldn’t have been so nice or absolutely hilarious. Nobody that douchey gets my amazing humor. He didn’t even laugh! I hear another shout followed by a slam to a desk. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

Welp. Welcome to London!

[citygirllina]

Within my first year of university, the value of money has definitely changed. It’s scary to think that $100 isn’t a lot- 100 dollars is like 20 adult dollars and can easily be spent without even realizing. We all know that going out with friends can cost up to 20-60 dollars depending on what you do. An average meal is going to be about $15 and with tip (Hi don’t be a loser, tip service workers) it can add up very quickly. However, there are things you can do to help cut down these expenses. The most sensible thing would be to obviously stop going out but as an adult living in the city, it’s not that simple. There are so many little expenses like filling your presto, snacks, drinks, ICED COFFEE. It all adds up.

Here’s a list of things you can do to  help cut down on ya budget (or here’s what I do or try to do)

Walk to work - I understand this may not be the case for everyone however if you can, try and walk (or bike) to work. By doing so I’ve been able to save that extra money on my presto for when I really need it.

Cut down from St*arbucks - as an Iced coffee fiend myself I find different ways to get my fix. Drinking 2-3 $6 iced coffees a day is not a sustainable lifestyle for myself which is why I use a french press and I leave it in my fridge overnight and that’s how I make cold brew. It’s also important to note that there are other brands/chains that are budget friendly.  Mcdonalds has $1 Iced coffee all summer. A large iced coffee at Tim Hortons is half of the price of a Venti Iced Caramel Macchiato at Starbucks!!

Pack your own shit - On the same note of making your own iced coffee, pack your own lunch. I do this especially on the days I have work because (no tea no shade) even with my discount at the cafeteria it’s out of my budget to have to buy food 3-4 times a week. I’m lazy so I just pack leftovers from dinner. Packing your own lunch can also be beneficial if you’re a picky eater like me because then you don’t have to worry about if you’re going to like the daily special or not. 

Side note: As a picky eater I tend to stick to safe foods because every time  I try something new it doesn’t taste good and HAHA not to mention I’m broke so then I get upset over the fact that I just wasted my money.

Invest in reusable Tupperware/Cups-  Investing in good Tupperware you’re able to save money on food and decrease your ecological footprint. Get creative! I personally double up my blender as a food processor (it’s small but mighty) And I also re-use old glass jars (from pasta sauce) as mason jars or as cups for my iced coffee. If it works, it works!

Join rewards systems - If you know you go somewhere consistently and they happen to offer a points card or stamp card then take one!! For example, there’s a local bubble tea shop in my neighborhood and I’m one drink away from a free milk tea!! OR even Tims (please sponsor me) has their own rewards system and a free coffee can go a long way!

Side note: Shoppers has a points system and if you shop in their beauty department often it’s a really good way to rack up points that can be used towards your next purchase

SALVAGE YA FRIDGE -  I found it difficult trying to use up all of your groceries is especially hard if you can’t always find the time to cook. As a student, your schedule is all over the place and setting aside time to cook every day is very unrealistic. As a result, your groceries will go bad before you even get a chance to try and make anything. Use old fruits (oranges, lemons, pears, apples) to marinate your meat. To be honest I don’t know the science behind it however I know that citric fruit is especially great in savory meat marinades. Setting aside one day to “meal prep” one big batch of marinaded meats or whatever you like to eat will benefit you during the week. You can always freeze your meats and then thaw in your fridge the night before when you plan on using it.

TL;DR- One of the biggest things I’ve learned during my first year of university is that existing is very expensive. Being able to discipline yourself and manage your money is one of the hardest things ever especially if you live in the city. This is not to say I am going to be a broke university student forever!! Although I’m not able to magically solve all my financial problems these are the little things I do to try and make things manageable. Hope you learned something new!

Lots of love,

Lina <3

[lordraveondagooseofdolallytap]

THE ROAD TO DOLALLY

 THE TRAIN TO DOLALLY

 I assert ownership of this work

David Kitchen

April 14TH 2020

 Doolally Tap

Origin and definition adapted from Collins English Dictionary

Slang:  Out of one’s mind

In full: Doolally Tap

Word origin: C19. Original military slang from Deolali or Devlali, a town near Mumbai, the location of a military sanatorium and the Hindustani word for fever, tap.

 A debt owed

Every fourth Sunday, more or less, for ten years. That’s how long it went on for. A four hundred mile round trip beginning after work on a Friday evening and completing back at home on Sunday around six. I was glad to do it. She had been the best of mothers and it was time to pay some of that care back but I am no angel and cannot say I was wholly selfless or always ungrudging…but it would have been unthinkable not to have made those journeys.

And that ten-year span took her from a badly rheumatic old lady, with much left of what had been a very good mind, all the way to a cot chair, carefully positioned pillows, a ghoulish expression and the ‘lostness’ which is the most shocking thing. You greave in stages when someone has dementia, and by the time it comes to an end in death you are relieved. Or at least I was. That decade had been an ever-growing aberration of what she was.

There were midway points, such as when at the care home some of her self could be retrieved by a Frank Sinatra song or a baby’s photograph, but once a month was not enough and careless carers could not be bothered to make the effort as evidenced by the dusty, cobwebbed corner where these things were kept for her. That time was not the before and after moment. It was earlier when she was still at home, in her own house. It was one specific weekend and I can remember it clearly. Everything changed after that.

Friday evening

I got there Friday evening at about half-past ten. All the lights in the house were on but mum was up in her bedroom. She shouted down “who’s that?”

I answered as always, “Just me mam”,

And she would come back again and say “who’s that?”

And this time I would say “Just me, Ryan”.

“Oh love I’m glad you’ve come. It’s a long drive for you, get something for yourself. There’s ham in the fridge”.  

Indeed I was hungry, I’d had a McDonalds on the road but that was like nothing ten minutes after finishing it. I opened the fridge, and all by itself on the middle rack was a little plastic pack of boiled ham. Nothing like the meat we got sliced from the bone years before when I’d lived at home. I reached over but then withdrew with revulsion at the sight of a green-silver coat growing on the meat. The pack only had a couple of slices left. She must have eaten some that day. I did not want to look at the bread or think about her eating it.

My elder brother had remarked one time that leaving her after a visit had felt like leaving a toddler in the middle of a busy road. She paid for carers to call in four times a day to give her meds, help with simple meals and to get her washed and dressed. That was the theory but some of these angels of mercy skimped and rushed in and out doing the least of what they could do. I had witnessed this when they did not know I was sat in the corner. It left me sickened and angry. The only regular caring face was that of my youngest daughter who did mums shopping on a weekend and gave her time and love.

This home-care charade was a sordid carry on and my mother was fading through neglect. There was no way it could go on but she was refusing to go into a care home and was furious anytime the subject was broached, accusing me of trying to get the house and steal her money.

I felt this state as a great inertia. I could not go one way and she would not move the other and in the middle was this nightmare being played out. I had a job which paid barely enough to fund my situation: getting both daughters through university and doling out a sizeable monthly amount to my ex-wife and her lawyer. Something was going to have to give. If I moved back up north I would not earn two-thirds of my present wage and everything would come crashing down.

A month previously the police had phoned and said they had found my mother in the shop-door-way of a Toys “R” Us shop in the city at almost midnight. Seems she had set out to buy presents for her grandchildren and was found braying on the shop doorway and screaming at the empty place to be let in. It had only been a few weeks earlier that he Tetley’s Tea man had sold her a bedroom full of Easter Eggs and commemorative mugs. It was all going to pieces and there were disgraceful scoundrels around who were happy to prey upon her.

The house was getting a tatty look and the brown mark on that cushion might be shit. It felt much like sleeping over in a house without an occupant, a place that did not belong to anybody. I would do a top to bottom clean through that weekend and fix the garden up to an acceptable standard but nobody was really living here. Mum was just occupying the rooms. I got a half-drunk bottle of brandy out of the boot of my car and poured a full measure into a faded yellow Tupperware plastic beaker which my father had once kept his teeth in. There was only one proper cup left and that would be upstairs at her bedside. She liked to sip water during the night when she woke with a thirst.

I let the spirit do its work. Relax me after the drive, give me a dose of wellbeing and prepare for sleep. I texted my girlfriend and told her I’d got here and things were as awful as always and wished her goodnight.  

I had to break this inertia and do something. It was like a free fall.

 Saturday morning

The thin, scratchy, woollen army surplus blankets were still there on my childhood bed. Their feel was my first conscious perception of the day.

Quick wash at the sink then I walked to the Mace store on the estate and bought some breakfast supplies in. Got back to the house and made a tray of toast, orange juice and breakfast cereal but by then she was up and she had it at the table. I knew her mental facilities were at their best in the morning so settled on having the conversation I’d been stewing on right away.

“Mam, we need to have a talk about what needs to happen next. You’re getting frail and it’s time to go into a care home”. I am one of those people who cannot dress up a difficult conversation and if I was then she might have missed the point somewhere amongst all the fluff.

“What are you saying Ryan that I’m so old and decrepit that I cannot live in my own house anymore?”

There was a temptation to temper but decided against it-

“I need to talk to you honestly now mum, this is getting dangerous. There will be a fire or something and that will be the end of you”

“And I’d bet you’d like that, that sod of a brother of yours and you can’t wait to get your hands on this house and my money. Your bastards, the pair of you. Taking from your own mother. You ought to be ashamed and trying to dress it up as helping me. Well, how is stealing off me helping? That’s wicked.”

“I have got to be honest mam, this is probably one of the last times that we will be able to have a proper conversation. I’m not after your money or your bloody house or anything. I am only saying these things because you need taking care of.”

“Why do I need taking care of? Who do you think you’re talking to? I am not a child you can order about. So what is this big thing that’s wrong with me? Tell me that.”

My mind spliced for a moment and one half of it was thinking how well she had kept her verbosity when dementia was stripping everything else away at pace. She had been an English teacher maybe that gave her some kind of buffer: an extra resilience against the fleeing away of words I’d seen before.

I was pretty brutal. “Mam, you have dementia, you have coped well on your own since dad died but now we are at the point where you need care. I've got to start being honest with you”.

“How dare you say things like that? You bastard. You bloody bastard. Get out of my house. Sling your hook and don’t come back. I can manage perfectly well without people like you”. She was on her feet now and screaming the words.

I tell folk, and I am open about it. No one gets as angry as the grown-up children of a parent with dementia. Even though you know it’s not the ‘real them’ talking and saying things that sting and the not understanding on their part is not some spiteful refusal to understand. The rage was building up in me and so I moved across into the lounge which was one room with the dining room except there were sliding doors between them which I kept open. I sat in the threadbare high-backed chair facing across to where she was at the table six yards away. The curtains behind me were still drawn and the light was off so I was in the half-dark and I knew I would be effectively invisible in a minute or two. The best way of calming her was to become invisible and give her mind a chance to settle on something else.  So I sat still and watched whilst she munched on her toast and looked straight ahead but not registering me.

We can never truly know where we will end up, and that was probably for the best. How would it be if we did see such an end approaching?  All that life lived and encoded in the brain, stripped away and lost. She had been an exceptional woman whose life had taken her across the most extreme mental terrains and peaked in wonderful achievements, being given degrees, met prime ministers, won an elevated place in the memories of many hundreds of children but she was now someone trying to munch her toast sans teeth (they were always being lost) and so in danger of choking.

I thought it wise to get out in the garden for the morning and be yet more invisible. By lunch, it would be safe to come back in again. The memory of what had happened at breakfast would only last a few moments but the emotional weather in her head would linger.

There was a drizzle and in a normal situation I would have put the garden work off for another day, but now was the only option as tomorrow I would be heading back home. It was early spring so I gave the grass its first cut of the year, cut back on some overgrowth in the bushes and pushed bulbs into the ground. By 11.30 I was sodden to the skin and caked in slimy clay mud. I sneaked in the house and got a bath, went down to the high street, did her shopping and then got us fish and chips for lunch. That would shift her mood.

When I’d got back she had retrieved the ham and bread out of the bin and was chomping away on a rancid sandwich. One could not stop all these things but still, I felt like a thoughtless shit. Why had I not got the stuff out of the house? She accepted a few chips though and with a neat sleight of hand, I removed the remains of the sandwich. House cleaning was on my schedule for the afternoon but decided Sunday morning would do fine enough.

I know what happened to old people when they went into care homes. The progression downwards would accelerate, previously home and familiarity had been an anchor, but when inserted into the strange ‘out of placeness’ of a care home…well, that would cut her lose from life.  Maybe in a year, she might be in one of those chairs with a swing across lap-table which incidentally restrain the occupant and stop them from wandering.Then sometime later there would be a cot like bed, pillows placed strategically around her, and there she would lay for months or years “in second childishness and mere oblivion.”

Saturday afternoon

She and I needed to get out somewhere nice for the afternoon. We settled on the choice of Ilkley Moor, just half an hour away in the car. I knew then and there, in all likelihood, this was the last time she would take pleasure in such ‘seeing of things’. Mum was happy at the prospect of an outing, the argument of the morning and its thundery mood all gone. We stopped at a tea hut in the car park of a spot known locally as The Cow and Calf, a great rock standing alone and splendid, yards from a towering rocky outcrop that had once reminded people of a cow with its calf, on the downside of an escarpment looking out over the town.

I helped my mother out of the car but her body had forgotten how to walk on sloping ground, so I brought the tea and cake to her in the car. She could not balance the paper plate on her knee or grip the plastic utensil so I passed the cake over on a plastic fork.

I took the car twenty yards forward so she could see out over the town and the Dales beyond. The drizzle had been pushed out by great swarms of windblown rain pellets coming in diagonally across the valley. The sun deflecting through every watery lens and making a wonderful show.

We stopped at a favourite baker under the old Temperance Hall on the way home and bought a few of her favourite things. Vanilla slices, ham off the bone, a small brown loaf and the special pork pies. Individual jellies and custard trifles. These had been our regular Friday treats, which it had been my task to pick up after walking from school over the Engine Fields.

Sat around the Formica topped table we were about to set about the Vanilla Slices when mum said. “Ryan, am I going Dolally Tap?”

I heard her but asked her to repeat it.

“I want to know off you Ryan if I’m going Dolally. Will you tell me”?

I thought about lying but just as quickly rejected it. There has to be a bloody good reason for not being truthful if someone asks you a question like that. “Yes, mum you have Dementia”, I hesitated and then decided to leave it at that.

Then she looked over and in her old way said “Oh bugger” and then carried on with her Vanilla slice.

I don’t know if it was the invigorating effect of going out or just the natural ebb and flow of her mental clarity, but I knew she understood what she was asking and what I said in reply. And it was back to what was typical of the old lass to accept my answer without fuss. I felt it very brave of her. Over the coming years, that moment stayed with me and became a kind of badge of what she was. By the next morning, it felt like the woman was already closing down. She either did not remember the conversation or chose not to speak about it.

Over the next weeks, I spoke to a Social Worker and arranged for my mum's admission to a dementia care home in Idle outside of Bradford, which in time let my mum down badly and all the things I expected happened even sooner than I imagined.

I’d got her there by saying we were going out for another ride but I think we both knew what I was doing. I won’t be hard on myself about that. I had to do what was necessary but I won’t dress it up as something it wasn’t.

More years went by till she reached the cot bed stage. A new care home took wonderful care of her and I cannot fault any of her time there. In all the fall into oblivion took ten years from first mistaking the radio for hearing voices in the wall to the last, very hurried but too late Friday evening drive up the A1.

The Road to Dolally

It’s always been my nature to quietly stew on things and then bring the stewing to a close with some gesture to myself. And then move onto the next thing. I don’t get to choose (at least consciously) what the full stop will consist of. It just sort of drops into my head then I feel released.

Two years after her death I woke up one morning and decided to go to Deolali in India and do ‘The Dolally Tap’. That needs two kinds of explaining.

Firstly, what is the Dolally Tap? When the British were in India they brought items of linguistic culture back home but did not spell them correctly. Deolali or Devlali was a permanent British Army of India camp about six (modern) train hours from Mumbai. It included a military hospital which treated soldiers evacuated in with dangerous fevers of one kind or another, which were as a group termed the Dolally Tap. Tap being Hindi for fever. Then the meaning of the words morphed with use by British army lads like my great-grandfather and came to be the words used to describe the act of going bonkers with the heat and boredom of the camp. The term evolved some more and became about mental illness, and by then the people who used it had no idea where it came from. Growing up in Yorkshire we learnt that there were two kinds of mental illness. Being balmy, equated to very odd and or even floridly eccentric behaviour, whilst Dolally Tap meant you were totally going off your head. It’s lovely how we used these words as commonly as we spoke about anything but never thought of whence they came.

So my mum, at the moment when she needed to ask about the fitness of her mind, opted for words she would have heard spoken, in childhood, by her grandfather. This was a woman who had gone all the way from mill hand, and cleaner to be an MSc in Education and a Head of English in a middle school, but when the time came she chose a homely word. I liked that a lot. It summed up the person she was. Some would have gone the full drama, or have hidden behind intellectualisation but she used the language of her home and where she started from. Her choice of words was a marriage of humour and dignity.

She liked to do things like that. Pass a binding rope between past and present, and the threatening and the funny. She did a lot of thinking about words and how they could best express something. At that breakfast table, she was asking if there was a cliff edge under her toes, and she would have certainly felt the fear of that potential fall but she chose a form which was so wonderfully brave.

So that’s why I went to Deolali/ Devlali. Of course, I added other experiences and visits to the trip: Delhi, New Year’s Eve midnight trains, Gandhi, Rajasthan, but at its core was the ride to, Deolali. I was making a statement of respect, remembrance and gratitude in my mind, and I hoped such actions would complete a necessary circuit and then I could go back home, and be content.

The odd pilgrimage started out from my little ramshackle hotel at 4 am. The man who manned the desk and all the other staff who worked in the small hotel were asleep across every surface in the reception area. The night clerk stirred himself and called a taxi that took me across town to the Chhatrapati Shivaji Railway Terminus. I walked the last few hundred yards from the drop off point but in the road as the pavement was carpeted with sleeping bodies including what looked like whole families with babies and small children.  

 India has ten types of first-class carriage but only one designated second class and the authorities take care to tell foreigners that the latter is not recommended. I took it anyway, in part because there was nothing else but also I could see orderly, comfortable trains at home. This was India and if one’s eyes are a school we have to look to learn.

 As expected it was standing only in Second Class and we were crammed like matches in an overfull box but at the same time, we were also an incrementally creeping mass that (irresistibly) pushed me toward the door of the traditional squat toilet where I spent most of the six-hour ride. I did have another view out between the legs of a hostile looking youth who had wedged himself tight within the four angles of the open door of the carriage. And indeed I videoed the parched, red dusty hills from that perspective as young women sang and somehow danced to the tinkling tune of their finger cymbals further down the carriage.

 I had once taken my mother on a rural bus journey in Swaziland, a small country in Southern Africa. We, the passengers, were similarly on top of each other for that journey. It was the intense, infringing, vivid, loud, brash and jarring unfamiliarity of our surroundings that was most upon her. I watched from sideways on as an old man with chickens and no teeth asked if she needed a husband and simultaneously a goat licked the space behind her knee and she shrieked a little and the lecherous suitor laughed well naturedly. She looked at me, grinned bravely and said she would never complain about the 55 Leeds bus again. That became our line about anything difficult from then onwards and I suspect it was the best bit of her slide presentation to her friends at the Wesleyan Methodist Ladies social. Her kidney stones had given her jip but she had conquered that bus journey and I suspect she would have done at least as well here on this train to Deolali.

 I stood at the open door to the toilet all the way, averting my eyes from the scene: men crouching over a hole set in a circular, inwardly sloping floor, whose contents spilt out and washing around the floor. Six hours of holding myself still and facing resolutely away left me with a tortured back and feeling like I could never move with ease again.

 It was a long train, and when we stopped my poor carriage was beyond where the platform finished. Most of my fellow passengers made off through the thick undergrowth towards a broken fence but I turned the other way and headed in the direction of the military checkpoint where a railway employee was checking the tickets and soldiers were watching out for likely terrorists. Nationally, tensions were up again about the dispute with Pakistan over Kashmir, and there had been some dreadful killings in recent weeks. As a military base, nearby Deolali, the camp had to be a target, and the security at the station serving it was understandable

 The soldiers waved me through. Eccentric Englishmen like me did not fit the profile of interest even if they were carrying an outsize rucksack on their back. Foolishly I had not considered the possibility of a military presence and it was not just on my platform. A machine gun was mounted within a nest of sandbags at the end of the next platform across and formed the third point of a triangle with a spot where I was standing.

 I had to find a clear station platform sign displaying the true name of the town, stand beside it and do a brief and discreet tap dance. It was plane though that such a thing might be mistaken, by the many soldiers, for a nervy suicide bomber about to detonate himself, so I risked being splattered by a machine gun or shot through by a lone pot shot of a soldier’s rifle. But not ‘doing the dance’, after all this effort, was unthinkable. Of course in more normal circumstances, when we are about to do something which might appear odd, we explain ourselves first. “Sorry, pardon me, I know this is going to look odd so am just quickly forewarning you that I am about to do a tap dance in honour of my dead mother. Please do not mistake this for a suicide bomber attack”.

 No that would not work. I walked to the very end of the platform hoping for inspiration. There was a trolley parked there stacked to waist height with brown, cardboard parcels. They would be sufficient to block the line of sight from the military checkpoint on my platform but would put me directly opposite the machine gun nest on Platform 2 which was just yards away across the first track. I needed something to block the view from there whilst I performed my dance beneath the sign next to the parcels. Then just like an apple might fall into your hand from out of a tree I heard the approach of a local train from my left. That was it, the timing would be crucial but it was probably a winner. Something which would legitimately block the view from platform 2 and allow me to perform my dance, if only from the waist down so the soldiers on my platform had no clue.

 And that’s what I did. I pretended to be a tourist filming the arrival of a typically overcrowded Indian train, and when the train draws level with me I pointed the camera downward and recorded a film of my feet doing a little tap dance for around ten seconds. The upper half of my body mostly but not entirely still. The men crowded at the windows of the train and hanging out the door and are watching me. They wave, and laugh and cheer and call things out I cannot understand.

 And that little dance in the shadow of a train in the station at Doelali closes my circuit. I can say “Bye Kath”, and now it’s all done and you are put to rest. 

The author is very tall and local people kept asking to pose for photos with him

[healthyworthyofficial]

20 Ways With Tinned Tuna

Way earlier than Lockdown, if I noticed a particular on tinned tuna, I might replenish. Why? Because tinned tuna is a flexible, ready-to-eat, good-for-you protein. And it might usually kind part of my work-day desk lunch rotation. In truth, I saved tins of tuna in my desk drawers for emergency lunches! So, to be trustworthy, when tinned tuna specials got here on throughout Lockdown (5 for R65 — I’m looking at you Woolworths), I purchased in…

Now in the event you consider tinned tuna, I guess you'll be able to consider perhaps 3, Four or 5 methods you should utilize it… however 20? I’ll admit, it was a stretch for me too… But then I began remembering recipes my gran would make once we had been youngsters. And recipes from the Jewish aspect of my household (as a result of in case you don’t know, you can't combine milk and meat, ie: no cheeseburgers for you)… So, right here, a complete checklist of recipe concepts that includes tinned tuna. READ MORE: 5 Delicious Lockdown Recipes That Won’t Need A Trip To The Shops

1/ Tuna-mayo sandwich

Okay, let’s begin basic right here. Tuna and mayo are a successful mixture. How to fancify this up? Add a squeeze of lemon juice, some freshly — and finely — shopped spring onion or crimson onion. Serve it on 100% rye toasted in sizzling olive oil with layers of chopped tomato and lettuce. YUM.

2/ Tuna-avo sarmie

Orrrr on rice truffles… Okay, so it is a WH HQ fave, particularly now when it’s avo season! Easy sufficient: mush one ripe avocado and mix it with one tin of tuna. Spread on sandwich bread or on rice crackers or in butter-lettuce leaves (relying on what number of carbs you’re chopping…) and munch. Why that is such a success: avos are actually good for you and full of vitamins. Yes, they're excessive in fat — the great type although — and once we’re speaking getting in nutrient-dense energy, avos trump mayo.

3/ Egg-mayo sarmie with tuna

Brunch you say? Who has the finances for salmon on this financial system anyway? Now once I grew up and we used to go on street journeys — all the youngsters squeezed at the back of a bakkie — my gran used to make egg-mayo sarmies. Easy sufficient: you boil the eggs, you mash with mayo, salt and pepper and unfold on a sarmie. Now, we already know eggs and tuna work nicely collectively, because of the French and recipe quantity 5. So why not double up on that good protein and add some tuna to the combination? It works! READ MORE: Yummy Vegan And Gluten-Free Healthy Chocolate Cereal Bars Recipe

4/ Basic tuna salad

Think of this extra like a inexperienced salad with tuna thrown on high. This is de facto what it’s about: you could have some salad substances and also you wish to add some protein. Oh, hey there, handy tin of tuna! Simply add on high with a primary olive oil and balsamic vinegar combine.

5/ Salade Niçoise

A way more intentional and fancy salad made handy by the ready-made tuna. This salad has the next fundamentals: tuna, boiled egg, olives, tomatoes, child potatoes and inexperienced beans. There are variations of this salad that embody lettuce, anchovies and capers… Mix it up as a lot as you want! It’s certain to maintain you fuelled for a busy day forward.

6/ Chopped Israeli-style tuna Salad

Think Israeli-style chopped salad: all the things chopped into same-size 5mm cubes. Tomatoes, carrots, peppers, cucumber… and chickpeas! It’s a leafless salad with a whole lot of crunch. Now add tuna and a few scrumptious avo (once more, chopped into little cubes) and you've got a filling dish that’s full of all the great things.

7/ Tuna salad wrap

Take recipe no.Three above and place all of the substances right into a wrap.

8/ Tuna salad wrap with mealies and mayo

The above recipe bulked up with flavour. I don’t know why sure combos work… Like Tuna and corn aka mealies. But they do! So combine your tuna with some mayo, add corn kernels, then wrap with greens in a big tender tortilla.

9/ Warm tuna pita

In a bowl, mix chopped celery, chopped crimson onion, tuna and mayo. Layer this right into a pita. Add grated cheese of your alternative (have you ever heard of Eatlean Cheese?). Bake within the oven for 10 minutes till the cheese has melted. This is critical consolation meals. Salad on the aspect non-obligatory.

10/ Tinned Tuna (not) Tartare

A play on the French delicacy, you should utilize the rules to assemble a similar-looking dish, simply with tinned tuna. Use finely chopped avocado as the bottom, then layer with chopped child rosa tomatoes, layered on high with tinned tuna. The secret is to decorate the substances beforehand. A beautiful lemony French dressing will do nicely, with some seasoning. Top with leaves and herbs, and serve. Thin slice of toast non-obligatory.

11/ Tuna pasta salad

A quite simple dish I used to make once I was a pupil, tuna-pasta-salad takes the instance of recipe 4 (primary tuna salad) and combines it with mayonnaise and penne pasta. It retains within the fridge for 3 days and it’s simple to pack in a Tupperware. It’s not very fairly to take a look at, however it’s easy and tastes good.

12/ Lemony zesty tuna pasta

A really quick-and-easy recipe that may be served heat or at room temperature the following day. What you want: lemon (zested and juiced), olive oil, garlic, 1 tin of tuna and a few pasta of your alternative, plus herbs of your alternative (parsley is an efficient one). Make it fancier: add wilted child spinach to the combination. Heat olive oil in a saucepan. Add chopped garlic clove. Allow to sizzle for a minute or two, then add the tuna, lemon juice and parsley and stir till heated. Add the recent cooked pasta to this pan with among the pasta water and stir to mix. Serve with zest sprinkled on high and a few additional herbs… For additional yum issue: add a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese.

13/ Tinned tomato and tuna pasta

Cupboard stacked with tinned tomatoes too? Well, that is a straightforward recipe that may assist make use of each tinned substances. What you want: olive oil; one massive onion, chopped; one clove garlic, chopped; one tin of chopped tomatoes; chilli (or chilli flakes); pasta of your alternative; one tin of tuna; contemporary basil (non-obligatory). Method: Sauté onion in olive oil. After a few minutes, add the garlic after which the tin of chopped tomatoes with the chilli. In the meantime, prepare dinner your pasta. Season the tomato combine with salt, pepper and a teaspoon of sugar if wanted to calm the acidity. Simmer to scale back liquid. Toss the recent pasta into the tomato combine and flake within the tuna. Serve with contemporary basil and a drizzle of olive oil. READ MORE: 3 Ways To Pimp Your Hummus For Your Next Mezze Platter

14/ Tuna Lasagne

Heat oven to 200 levels Celsius. Tip one 400g tin chopped tomatoes, 250g of sliced peppers, 50g of olives, 1 tbsp blended dried herb herbs right into a pan, cowl and simmer for 10 minutes till the tomatoes have damaged down a bit of. Add the tin of tuna and season with salt and pepper. Pour one tub of cream cheese right into a bowl, season and blend to loosen a bit of, including a splash of water (or milk, if in case you have some) to make a thick white-sauce consistency. Assemble the lasagne in a baking dish, approx 20 x 30cm. Pour roughly a 3rd of the tuna sauce into the underside of the dish, high with Four lasagne sheets, a 3rd of the cream cheese sauce, then repeat the layers twice extra. Scatter over some mozzarella and bake for 40 minutes till golden and effervescent.

15/ Gluten-free tuna fishcakes

Who doesn’t love a superb fishcake? Mix collectively: 1 tin of tuna, 200g mashed potatoes, 1 egg, 1 tbsp gluten-free flour of alternative (rice flour works nicely), Four finely chopped spring onions, 1 tbsp finely chopped contemporary parsley, salt and pepper to season. Form patties together with your arms. Coat the patties in some extra rice flour earlier than cooking gently in a pan with some olive oil. Yum!

16/ Tinned tuna poke bowls

Ah, we love a superb poke bowl! But we don’t at all times have entry to freshly caught tuna (like on this pic). You could make these the way in which you'll another good poke bowl. The base: steamed rice topped with crunchy, contemporary veggies, nuts (almond or macadamias), avocado, spring onions, sesame seeds, fruit… The secret is the great dressing! 1 tbsp sesame-seed oil + 2 tbsp tamari + Juice of 1 lime + Tiny drizzle honey blended collectively and drizzled over. Find extra scrumptious, wholesome seafood recipes here!

17/ Baked potato with tuna

I like a superb baked potato. In truth, candy potatoes baked entire are in all probability my favorite. Their skins caramelise so fantastically and inside it’s tender and simply practically candy. Top this sizzling child with some tinned tuna blended with a bit of mayo (or creme fraiche in the event you eat dairy) and a few chopped spring onions and dill. Add a squeeze of contemporary lemon to complete it off and also you’ve bought a cracking little meal!

18/ Tuna frittata

A fast and simple lunch for the entire household — you'll be able to pump this up with additional veggies like peppers and mushrooms. Yes, added vitamins for the win! Preheat oven to 180 levels Celsius. In an oven-proof skillet, sauté chopped spring onions in a bit of olive oil. Add your veggies (child spinach, courgettes, tomatoes). Sauté till mixed and wilted. Add one tin of tuna, drained. Whisk collectively 12 eggs and 1/2 cup soya milk (or cow’s milk) with a pinch every of salt and pepper (to style). Pour egg combine into massive skillet. Place within the oven and prepare dinner for 15 to 20 minutes, till eggs are cooked via. Garnish with chilli flakes, Peppadews and contemporary basil. READ MORE: This High-Protein Peanut Butter Breakfast Smoothie Will Make Your Morning

19/ Tuna Tacos

Now the trick right here is to mix the tinned tuna with some crimson onion, corn, tomatoes and chilli to make a spicy salsa to fill your tacos with. So, finely chop half a small crimson onion, combine with one tin drained tuna, one massive chopped tomato, about 1/2 cup corn kernels and one finely chopped chilli. Add the juice of 1 lime and a bit of olive oil and stir collectively. Now mash avocado with chopped coriander, lime juice and salt and pepper. Have some bitter cream on the aspect. Spoon your tuna filling into the corn tacos, add guacamole and a dot of bitter cream. Delish. I like serving my tacos with a bit of shredded butter lettuce for additional crunch and freshness. Imagine the beneath with tuna as a substitute of mince – a lot more energizing!

20/ Tuna, olive and rocket pizza

Home-made pizza evenings are nice! But you won't at all times have a great deal of toppings a hand… Enter that outdated devoted tin of tuna. Get your bases prepared, smeared with some tomato puree, and your oven sizzling at 200-220 levels Celsius. Top your tomato bases with shredded tuna, chopped black olives, capers (if in case you have) and mozzarella cheese. Bake till golden and melted and scrumptious. Serve with contemporary rocket and skinny slices of crimson onion. So yum! Want extra? We’ve bought you coated: all of your healthy recipes sorted. READ MORE ON: Food Food News Health Advice Nutrition Nutrition Advice Recipes !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s){if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function(){n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments)};if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=;t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e);s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)}(window, document,'script','https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '2162521310492989'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); Source link Read the full article

[planets-and-prose]

Self Care Tips!

So there’s a trend of like. So many of the new writers I’m following (and the writers I already follow) are mentioning that they have anxiety/depression/are in some other way neurodivergent. So! Here is a thing that I’m compiling as an ADHD/Anxiety-having/Depression-having/PTSD-having college student, of things that have worked for ME.

*Of course you are not me! These things may not work for you, but hopefully they give you ideas or help a little. <3*

Also these ideas are absolutely NOT a substitute for seeing a therapist. If you are able that should be a first line of defense! Many colleges have free or low cost mental health services, high schools have counselors that can often direct you to mental health services, and if neither of those apply I am happy to attempt to direct you to resources and do some research for you!

A 24/7 crisis text line can be found here: https://www.crisistextline.org/ if you are too anxious to call someone.

Let’s start out with a few affirmations!

You are amazing.

Yes. YOU.

Even if you are not doing what you think your best is right now, you are doing amazingly!

You have accomplished something today. I don’t care even if it’s just getting out of bed or waking up. That stuff is HARD. Every time you get out of bed and face your mental illness, you are accomplishing something. And that is pretty amazing!

This is not eternal. Things will get better. Yes, they might suck right now, but things are not going to be this bad forever!

You are not a burden. Text a friend, a loved one, or me if you feel lost! I can definitely do my best to help.

You are loved! It might not feel that way but someone on this earth cares about you. I promise.

Strategies for when you know things are gonna get rough

(this can include life things, like exam season, visiting unsupportive family, the anniversary of a death, etc. It can also include things like hormones! I am an AFAB person who gets periods, so there are certain weeks that I know my mental health is gonna be very hecked up.)

First we’re gonna figure out ways to attend to your basic heckin needs.

WATER. Keep some sort of fluid by your bed (water, juice, an electrolyte thing like powerade. Something low in sugar is good but literally anything works. If it hydrates you it’s fine)

FOOD.

If you have the energy to prep some meals, do that thing! (Trust me, grabbing a Tupperware out of the fridge is so much easier and less overwhelming than making a Meal)

Some of my personal versatile college-kid favorites are overnight oats, fried rice, quesadillas, pasta of any kind, etc.

I am vegetarian and am able to make all of the above vegan as well, so ask if you’re curious!

If you have the energy to go to the store, pick up some things that require very little preparation that you can munch on.

Ten’s favorites include Goldfish, fruit snacks, granola bars, cheese sticks, rolls, etc

If neither of these apply, take some time to identify a few things you can eat in a pinch!

Don’t worry about “Cohesive Meals”.  If you can grab some deli meat/cheese/carrots/crackers/anything of the sort, then that’s food.

SELF

Make a list of five things that make you happy/relaxed/feel Marginally Less Bad, and find ways to make a few of those happen.

Ex. Reach out to a friend and say you’re having a hard time, gather supplies for a craft you like, gather some writing ideas, make a happy playlist, etc!

Make a time during the bad times that you are going to attend to One Activity That Is Relaxing.

For me, Sundays at 7ish is nail art time. I take that time to do my nails, which is a comfort activity for me. I don’t schedule things then, because that is My Time. My Time is a priority then. But it doesn’t even have to take a couple hours, just like “for 30 minutes here I will sketch” or something like that will work!

OTHER

Set reminders to do things like take meds/drink water/take a walk/etc!

Build as much of a support system as you can beforehand basically! Set yourself up for success in as many little ways as you can.

OK, It Is The Bad Time.

OK, time for some more affirmations.

This is a bad TIME, not bad forever. Even if this hit you suddenly it WILL get better!

You can do this!

You are not alone! You are not a burden! Reach out if you can!

You’ve got this!

Now we’re gonna go back to the other things we talked about before!

BASIC THINGS: Things are rough! You are not going to be able to do everything you are doing at your best. If you broke your leg you wouldn’t be trying to walk to work/school/around the house the same way you normally would. You’d accommodate. Do the same thing with your mental health.

Make a list of small things that you feel like you might be able to do. If things are feeling too overwhelming, think even smaller!

Suggestions: Shower, brush teeth, take a short walk, get out of bed and walk around the room, put one dish in the sink, get a drink of water, stretch (even just in bed), text a friend, change into another pair of pajamas

Celebrate when you do these things! Maybe even write down each one you accomplish.

If you are in school, reach out to professors if you can. Many of them will understand and be VERY accommodating.

Reach out to a friend if you can! Good friends will be willing to help, even in little ways!

Something is always better than nothing. This is gonna be a theme but doing one thing, ANY thing, is an accomplishment!

WATER: Keep a glass of water/water bottle by your bed, or any other liquid. Don’t beat yourself up if you can only drink a little. Something is better than nothing. Every sip is one sip more than you probably wanted to take. Every sip is one more sip of hydration.

FOOD: This is one of the hardest ones for me because I have disordered eating habits. For me it’s an accomplishment if I don’t eat, so this is always the first thing that I neglect. So!

Again, think of easy things!

ANYTHING you eat is better than nothing. I don’t care if your breakfast was a handful of Goldfish. I don’t care if you skipped lunch and had a Pop Tart for dinner. You Ate Something and that is more than your mental health wanted you to. ANYTHING you eat is better than eating nothing. Your body will thank you, I promise.

Try to eat at least something at designated meal times. Again, literally anything. Sometimes you’ll find that food doesn’t feel good and that’s okay! But sometimes you’ll find that food is helping you feel better, and that can make a WORLD of difference.

SELF: This one can be tricky. Depression and anxiety can make doing things you love really, really hard and that sucks a LOT! So here’s a few little strategies that hopefully will help!

Think of nostalgic, comforting things. I have comfort songs, Youtube channels, etc that I go back to when I’m not feeling well. Keep that on lock!

Don’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to! If your happy thing isn’t appealing, don’t force it!

Try a couple different things! For me, when I was in my roughest patch of the year, I didn’t want to knit, write, read, do any of my comfort things. It was awful. But for some weird reason, drawing helped break through the depression a little. I am not an artist and usually stress a LOT when drawing, but for some strange reason, it was what I needed. Happiness lives in weird places.

A few closing things!

When you find something that works, NOTE IT. It can be a part of your toolbox for bad mental health times.

Seriously, there’s a lot of places where initial therapy consultations are low cost or free. Those can be a WORLD of help.

Reach out! I know I keep repeating it but it can make a world of difference!

You can get through this!

I know you can!

You’re braver than you think you are, you’re stronger than you can ever know! You might not feel like it, but you can do this!

Reach out to me if you need anything. I can hopefully direct you somewhere to help you. <3

[tofuandtotebags]

Reducing your ecological footprint as a teen: 5 Easy tips

You want to reduce your ecological footprint, but aren’t sure where you should start? I’ll give you some easy tips to get you going.

1)      Finally start using that water bottle!

Tab water is way cheaper and 100% safe to drink in most first world countries. A plastic bottle can take over 400 years to decompose, so the oceans are FULL of them. You probably have a water bottle lying somewhere around the house, but if you don’t, I can recommend ‘Dopper’ water bottles. They don’t leak, are widely available and look quite cute. Here is a link to their website: https://dopper.com/

2)      Get yourself a lunchbox.

It doesn’t have to be fancy, I mostly use old Tupperware to take my lunch to school.(The school I go to doesn’t have a cafeteria where you can get your lunch, everyone has to bring their own.) Aluminium foil and plastic wrap are single use and thus bad for the environment. A lunchbox keeps your lunch fresh and our oceans clean. :)

3)      Try convincing your parents to do a meatless Monday. (or any other day of the week ;) )

The meat and dairy industry has a massive carbon footprint. It also costs tons of water and food to raise animals. Not eating one pound of beef, saves as much water as not showering for a year. Try making it as easy for your parents as possible to start eating a little less meat. Maybe you can start with substitute meat or make something easy like spaghetti? Maybe you can convince your parents by cooking one of the easier recipes yourself? There are tons of vegan and vegetarian youtubers and bloggers with great, free recipes, explained step by step. I’ll start posting some easy recipes on this blog in the near future too, to help you guys out. :)

4)      Go ‘plogging’ with a group of friends.

Plogging is a Swedish term, it basically means: jogging, but you pick up any trash you find on your way. Put on some rubber gloves, call your best friends and get your butt off the couch. Some communities might even provide gloves and trash bags for you or pick up the bags of trash at your doorstep, so you don’t have to bring them to your local recycling center yourself. Be sure to check that out.

5)      Start thrift shopping and don’t buy more clothes than you need.

Clothing isn’t only expensive, the textile industry creates tons of waste. Clothes in stores like Zara or H&M (fast fashion brands) aren’t made to last long, so you have to throw them away after just a few wears. Fast fashion brands  want you to buy as much clothing as possible, even though you might never wear them. Ecological clothing stores are hard to find, (and ordering online is a bit counterproductive, because of the transportation, which is bad for the environment too) but most cities do have a thrift store. The clothes are cheap, you can find real gems in there, they’re unique and you’re doing Earth a big favour.

Thanks for sticking around till the end of the post, see you next time. :) 

[valorkook]

Careless | m.yg

pairing: Reader x Min Yoongi type: A sprinkle of Angst with a spoonful of Fluff (I tried) w.c. : 3k summary: REPOST | You’re worried for your boyfriend when he has fallen ill and still working despite his condition. 

              You found yourself waking up to an empty bed, crumpled sheet left untidy and numerous cold pillows littered the other side of the bed instead of your boyfriend’s warmth that was supposed to welcome your morning. But you know you have to get used to it again as you remember that they are currently preparing for another comeback next month.

You knew all the risks and sacrifices you both have to make once you accepted his idea of a being in a relationship a year ago, countless phone calls and short text messages were the only way of communication when he leaves for a world tour last year, also spending most of your free time before just to bring takeouts from his favorite restaurants or home-cooked meals to him when he dwells in his Genius Lab for nearly 24 hours creating and producing music.

And now as the days pass and their comeback is much nearer, surprisingly a lot of people around the world are anticipating for them. You know that a much larger audience would pressure them more and thus resulting to a much harder training routine for them this month. You have already asked your boyfriend, Min Yoongi, of their schedule this week just to find an appropriate time to pay a visit twice or thrice this week. The reason for shorter days of visiting was because you were also preparing forthe two big exams that you will take next week.

No doubt that Yoongi can take care of himself. But in times like this when they are put under more pressure to deliver their best output to the fans, he can be careless of himself and proceeds to do more strenuous work from perfecting the production of the song to synchronizing dance routines.

You grew worried even more when you found crumpled tissues littered the nightstand on his side of bed, Not that he did not dispose them but the thought of him having a cold today might hinder him from a few tasks they need to finish. You climbed out of the bed, the big black shirt of his smoothing down to your mid thighs as you went to his side of the bed and trashing the small mess that he left onto the nearest bin.

You were saddened that he was to leave so early in the morning again, all for doing his job today and probably seeking to finish it early before the sundown. You weren’t able to prepare him a hefty breakfast for the second time this week as you found a box of cereal left on the countertop when you arrived in the kitchen. You look at the time on the phone clutched on your hand; it was quarter before nine as you thought of just preparing lunch for Yoongi as you planned to go to his studio today.

Quickly, you already gathered up the ingredients needed as you opened a trusty cookbook site for Korean dishes, finding a recipe of a dish that you recalled that he really loves. Resting your phone nearby, you started to cut up vegetables and strips of meat to be cook. Not more than an hour and you found yourself finding a clear tupperware and storing the freshly-cooked food inside, you sighed in content when you tasted the stew that might relieve him from his cold as you stored it rather on a thermos. Leaving the pile on the countertop, you proceeded in the shower with your towel hanging on your arm, preparing yourself before going to your boyfriend’s studio in just an hour.

The weather is slowly warming up, brushing away the cold touches of winter as the cab you are currently riding passes through a street full of cherry blossoms. You thought of wanting to go to another date with Yoongi this spring, before their schedules gets tighter by early May. You haven’t been out in awhile as you listed down of secluded yet pretty places to hang out with him, noting yourself to ask him later on when you arrive.

Not long enough and the cab already stopped in front of a pharmacy, located a block away from their building as you bought his medicine for his cough, and a topical ointment to alleviate his stuffy nose. As you were currently purchasing, you pulled out your phone to notify him of your arrival in five minutes to his studio.

Stuffing what you bought in your small yellow backpack, you made your way out of the store with the lunchbox in your clutch as you walked silently up the street to where the building is located. The phone on your pocket never rang or made a sound and you wondered if they already started to become really busy. Once you were inside the vicinity, you familiarize your way in and up to their floor, where their studios are located.

“Oh, you’re here!” You spotted Seokjin nearby once you entered their dance studio, most of them surrounding the black rectangle table on the side as numerous takeouts were scattered by their table.

You greeted them one by one, taking one step closer to them as you found your boyfriend missing in action. “I see you’ve already eaten lunch. I actually prepared one for Yoongi.” You mumbled, audible enough for them as they smiled.

Jungkook piped in, “I still have some space in my stomach if Yoongi hyung can’t eat those.”

“Yah, Jungkook.” Seokjin remarked before turning to you, “For sure Yoongi needs more food as he wasn’t really feeling better earlier during practices.”

You replied, “Really?”

You were right, he started to exert himself carelessly. You sigh in distress, “Is he in his studio?” the members nodding in respond as you excused yourself and went to your boyfriend, you’re becoming worried sick again as you concluded that what he might have right now is more than just a cold. He might be ill for goodness sake.

Breathing out, you began to coil in the lunchbox in one arm as you punch in the code to gain access inside. “Yoongi.” You quietly called for his name as you spotted his hunched figure in front of the bright screen as the silence of the room was replaced with sniffs coming from your obvious sick boyfriend.

You quietly closed the door behind you and placed the lunchbox neatly in the center of the empty coffee table on the right. Pulling out the medicine from your bag as you came to squint at the bright screen he’s closely facing, you decided to turn on the lights as you spotted the same takeout left on the other table where his laptop rest.

Seeing as the content of the box was still left uneaten, you push yourself towards where he sat. “Yoongi-ah” You gently call him again, and fortunately he was able to hear you as he pushed off the headset adorning his head.

“Hey, you’re here” he weakly replied as you rest your palms at his covered shoulder, feeling the abnormal warmth oozing out of his body.

Sniff.

You maneuvered your hand from his shoulder to his forehead, free of his fringe as it was held back by the blue beanie on his head. “You’re terribly hot.” Eyes widening as you tilt his face up to glance at you.

He reassured you, “I’m really okay, _____. Now please, will you let me continue my work?”

“Come on Yoongi, you barely eaten the food they gave you.” You pointed at the opened and cold box you found earlier. “Did you have any medicine with you?”

He shook his head as he made another sniff. The sound of keyboard pressing as his other hand pulled up the headphones on his head.

You continued, “Can you please stop for awhile?” you clutch the object as you cease him from going back to his work.

“I can’t right now, _____.” he breathed out, “I promise I will eat those later, also the ones that you brought. Now please.” He was growing irritated as each second passed, he cannot help himself from the feeling as he was currently in a trance of creativity; willingly to do and finish his task today even if his body was weakening as of this moment.

Your eyes found his, both of your hands still holding the object in the midst of the conversation as you heavily sighed at his stubbornness. “I won’t let you continue until you’ve eaten those, Yoongi, you’re already having a high fever—“

He interrupted, “I’ve had worse.”

“Come on, what you’re doing won’t help you and your body. Adding the strenuous work of learning new dance routines these days you would only end up in the hospital if you keep doing this!” You fumed.

“I told you I would eat later. I don’t need your continuous nagging I know what I’m doing.” He tries to clarify.

“You sure do know what you’re doing,” You scoffed, “Look at you Yoongi, you’re pale and your temperature’s rising, who knows when fatigue will come to you.”

He audibly exhaled, fingers finding itself to rub his temples as he rested his elbows above the table, “Please leave.”

“God, Yoongi all I only ask you is to eat!”

“Leave!” he demanded with a raised voice, “Take it with you, I’ve lost my appetite.”

You huffed, “You’re unbelievable,” hastily snatching the lunchbox from the coffee table as you slammed the door close. A few pair of eyes glanced immediately at you once you stood at the studio’s doormat. You were frozen from where you stood, the others were unsure of what to do after hearing ruckus moments ago.

There was a silence in the room until Hoseok spoke, “Hyung’s being stubborn again?”

All you can respond as of this moment was only a nod, biting your bottom lips to prevent from frowning as you quietly pass the lunchbox to him, “Please give it to him.” You mumbled, even if you pulled it out from the studio, you’d still want him to eat what you brought as it will help him alleviate the cold.  

“No worries, I’ll also force hyung to eat this. Even if it meant strapping him to a chair.” He tries to lighten up the mood.

You can only offer a small smile as you greeted them goodbye with a bow, hurriedly making your way down and out of the building. You have never heard Yoongi raised his voice at anyone, even to you before, as he only walk out before the arguments got worse. Maybe because you have been annoying him enough to think that he’s incapable of eating it by himself.

Or maybe he already had enough of you.

Such thoughts keep messing your mind as you took a ride back home, already planning to distract yourself from the situation earlier by studying your notes. You too, have lost the appetite as you only gulp cold water when you’re at home and blankly staring at the walls of the apartment. Would he come back tonight? Or would he sleep at their dorm?

Your eyes were already starting to burn holes on your notes, your mind still preoccupied with worries as the other part of you thought of the words you said earlier. What if I said something wrong to annoy him?

Meanwhile at the studio, Hoseok has forcefully welcome himself inside the Genius Lab of his hyung as he found Yoongi heavily breathing on his chair, still hunched towards his computer as his energy was reducing as the minutes pass by.

Yoongi’s head was already throbbing, as his weak body was succumbing to rest.

“Hyung, I think you’ve had enough of today’s work.” Hoseok kept a few distance, placing the lunchbox you once held next to the takeout box. “We still have more days to accomplish that track.”

Yoongi drawled,” I know I just, wanna see what I can finish today.”

“Do you have any painkillers?”

Hoseok scramble through the paperbag nearby, “Can’t find anything on the bag hyung, only cough medicines.”

Yoongi was surprised as he turned to see Hoseok holding a small paperbag, also finding the lunchbox still in the room after what he had told you harshly earlier. He felt apologetic for snapping at you earlier, knowing that you only care for him but he only drove you away. “You have to eat, Yoongi-hyung. You look like you need it now.”

He can only quietly nod, too fatigued to respond as he maneuvered his chair towards the other table filled with what you bough, hardly touching the one he opened an hour ago. Zipping the lunchbox open, he found a wide thermos on the side, along with two tupperwares . . .

He just realized that he lost the time to eat lunch with you.

“I’ll just ask our manager to buy one, you should eat!” Hoseok announced to him before walking out of the studio, gently closing the door on his way out.

At the same time, Yoongi went back to the table to find his phone, in hopes of contacting you. However, his attempts were futile as he thought of you turning off your phone. Several efforts were still made by him but you’re still out of reach, he knew he fucked up.

He wants to see you as of this moment, but figuring out from the unanswered phone calls and texts, he knew that you still need space from him even just for tonight. Despite the growls of his stomach, he insisted on eating the packed lunch you prepare together, wanting to go home as much as possible but he knew he would be held back as they still have a task to do as a group until seven pm.

‘I hope you have eaten something babe, I’m sorry’ was the last text he sent before he started to devour the food that ease the pain from his head and ease the lethargic feeling off of him. Not long and Hoseok arrived with their manager, along with a bottle of water and the medicine they bought for him.

“You are granted to leave early today, don’t want you be still sick in the next few days.” Yoongi’s eyes widened at their manager’s words as he quickly gulp before collecting his stuff. He wants to see you so badly even if he said to himself that he wants to give you space.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Yoongi bid them goodbye immediately as he brought the lunchbox with him back home . . . to you.

You were close to losing it as you shoved the textbooks away from you, finding no strength to study as your mind has been preoccupied. The tears threatening to spill as more negative thoughts crept up your mind. You have been a bad girlfriend.

Of all the times that you and Yoongi were together, you have never shown any ounce of your deep feelings, thoughts, towards him. You feel afraid to be a burden to his busy life if you ever expressed the problems, either big or small, towards him. You have never shown your tears to him ever since you started dating him.

You resorted to lie down on the bed instead, preventing yourself from frowning as it would lead you to cry. How petty of you to cry over an argument.

Beneath the floor you were in, Yoongi pushed off his shoes by the doorstep and carefully proceeded upstairs, bringing along the lunchbox. He quietly crept up the stairs, eyes locking at the door ajar to your bedroom. Our bedroom, Yoongi thought.

He felt less weak after eating and drinking the medicine earlier, but nonetheless the cold is still within him as he uncontrollably sniffs when proceeding to the bedroom. He knew you already know of his presence, but made no action as he inaudibly push the door enough for his body to fit in.

“Baby.” He called you, placing what he brought atop the clean nightstand. You cleaned it off.

Another sniff escaped him as he climbed over the bed, resting his hands on your shoulders cautiously. You were still not making any efforts to face him. “I’m sorry,”

With voice cracking, you respond, “I should be the one sorry for nagging you.”

“No, I should be the one sorry for being careless. You only want me to just eat and yet my stubborn ass can’t even.” He tried to lighten up for you. “I’m sorry for raising my voice at you, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You can raise your voice at me next time so it would be fair.” Yoongi joked, “But I’d rather see you raise your voice every time I—“

You turned to interrupt him, “Yah, stop right there. I’m supposedly still mad at you.”

“Seriously, I’m sorry, love.”

“Have you eaten? What about medicine?” You asked.

He grin at you, “I have already” Before snuggling his face at the crook of your neck, leaving pecks of kisses at the area as he knew he wouldn’t want you to catch illness from him if he were to go to your lips instead. Meanwhile your hands found itself on his forehead, relieved to know that his temperature was going down unlike earlier when you visited him.

“Were you studying?” He mumbled, arms encasing you around you close to him as both of you glance at the table where you left your books behind and the table lamp still turned on.

“You’re right, I should.” But you cannot lose yourself from his grip. For someone who’s still sick, he still has enough strength to prevent you from escaping his arms.

“Not until you eat something. The other tupperware is still left untouched for you.” His arm quickly reaching and pulling the lunchbox onto the bed you two were occupying. “Now eat.”

“Not until you let go of me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi offered, “Perhaps I could feed you instead.”

“You need rest, babe.”

“Oh, right.”

feel free to request thru my ask or follow me for more upcoming fics, thank you for reading this!!

[mollyraesly]

Time with Wolves -- Chapter 3

The next week when Jon opened the car door for Sansa, his help was actually necessary because her hands were busy carrying a giant tupperware container. “What’s that for?” he asked. “Umm...it’s for you.” 

She fidgeted with the container, frozen in front of the empty car. Sansa could not look at him. She had spent several nights the past week fretting about what she could give Jon to thank him for driving her back and forth. She knew he wouldn’t take any money, and she couldn’t trade chores with him like she did with Robb and Arya. She didn’t know enough about Jon’s hobbies; besides playing hockey and going to visit the wolf-reservation, he always seemed busy with school and his part-time job working for the park rangers. Jon never asked for anything. But he did like to eat, even if he often shrugged off dinner invites. Sansa had seen him more often than not sheepishly fill his plate with second helpings or reach for a third or fourth cookie. His favorite seemed to be gingersnaps. She’d seen him wolf down over ten of those one night two Christmases ago.

She peeled off the container lid to show him the rows of cookies she’d neatly arranged. She had to bake over four batches of cookies yesterday so she could blame the baking on wanting to try out a new recipe and not arouse suspicion that she was baking for someone in particular. She had put only the most symmetrical, aesthetically pleasing cookies in the container for Jon. “They’re gingersnaps.” “For me?” She nodded. “I know school barely started, and it’s more of a winter cookie, but I just thought—I hope you don’t mind—“ “Gingersnaps are my favorite.” He gave her a soft smile. “You made these for me?” She nodded again. “Thank you, Sansa.”  She smiled and handed him the container before getting into his car. Jon closed the door after her, and by the time he sat down behind the wheel, he was finishing the last bite of a gingersnap. “What do you think?” “Best cookie I’ve ever had.” She glowed.  The cookies became part of their routine, along with the door-opening, Ghost belly rubs, and The Cure. Sansa looked forward to their time together more than anything; it was her favorite part of the week, second to baking a different batch of cookies, imagining what Jon would say about them. He’d enjoyed all of her creations, but gingersnaps were still his favorite.  Ghost was growing more and more each week. He could no longer really be called a pup, but Sansa insisted on cooing over him still. After Jon would race Ghost and teach him simple commands, Sansa would comb out the knots of his hair with her fingers and sing to the mute wolf. Ghost made her miss Lady at the same time she felt that hole in her heart start to heal by his presence. One week, after Halloween, Sansa, to her dismay, found she had no cookies to give Jon. Rickon had been wild since going Trick-or-Treating without their parents for the first time. Arya and Bran did very little to supervise him. He ate his pillowcase full of candy within just three days and had been devouring anything with sugar to keep the high. He and his friends ate all the cookies Sansa made while she was out buying fabric and yarn at the craft store with her mom. Catelyn had gotten angry and told Rickon that this eating pattern had to stop before he lost all his teeth. She made him sit down that night and eat every vegetable she put on his plate. Sansa had been upset with him but could not tell him why without blowing her cover. Rickon, like everyone else in her family, thought she was just trying different recipes. So she could not get mad at him, especially when he wrapped his arms around her waist and told her the peanut butter ones were his favorite and the recipe was perfect. There had been time to make more cookies but no butter and no way to get more without making them all wonder what she was really up to in making new batches of cookies each week. So Sansa greeted Jon with nothing in hand, feeling terribly guilty and anxious. “What’s wrong?” Jon asked as soon as he got behind the wheel and noticed her empty hands fidgeting in her lap. Sansa explained as much as felt appropriate. She did not want Jon to realize that her baking for him was a secret. But she didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful, either. “I’m sorry,” she said to end her practiced speech.  Jon sighed. “Sansa, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” “But—now I’ve got nothing to thank you—“ “You don’t need to thank me.” “But the ride—gas money—and—“ Jon pulled over to the side of the road, put the car in park, and turned in his seat. “Sansa, stop apologizing. I love everything you bake—especially your gingersnaps. But you don’t have to give me anything. I’d still come pick you up each week.” “Why?” Sansa asked, voicing a question that had been on her mind for weeks. “Why what?” “Why do you give up your Friday nights to take me to the wolf reservation?” It seemed silly to say it aloud, but she had to know. She wasn’t the favorite of any of her siblings. Margaery seemed to be a friend whenever it was convenient for her. Mya and Myranda were best friends with each other before they were with her. Sansa was quiet and a little prudish. She liked romance novels, baking, and knitting. She wore dresses more than pants and spent hours brushing her hair. She was too tall and too pale. She liked to please adults and had never gotten in trouble. She had never had more than a few sips of alcohol and had never even been offered drugs. And she was still only fifteen. Why would Jon—who’d be eighteen just before Christmas—want to waste his Friday nights with her? Especially when Jon was so handsome. Jon brought a hand to rest on the seat behind her shoulder. “Sansa, I’m the one who asked you to come with me, remember? I like spending time with you.” “You do? But Arya always says if I saw a good time dancing naked in front of me I’d make it sit down and force it to drink tea until it calmed down.” Jon laughed and shook his head, his curls jostling from the movement. “That sounds like something Arya would say.” Then his voice turned soft as his gray eyes studied her. “She’s not right, though. I always have a good time when I’m with you, Sansa. You’re good with words and manners and people—much better than me. You bring out the best in everyone. You always find a way to show people you care...even in the little things.” Jon’s ears grew pink. “And Ghost would bite my hand off if I showed up without you now.” Sansa’s eyes had grown a bit wet, but she laughed at his last words. “Well, we can’t have that.” Jon’s fingers dipped as though they were going to reach out and touch her hair, but a moment later his hands were back on the steering wheel and they were on the road again. They were both quieter than usual when they first got to the wolf reservation. Sansa, because she kept repeating Jon’s words over and over in her head and trying to figure out what he meant by them. She could not stay lost in her own thoughts for long, though; Ghost was in a particularly playful mood. Mr. Mormont was working on getting Ghost to perform more complicated commands and was feeding him a small piece of moose meat each time he did something correct. Each time Jon and Mr. Mormont gave Ghost a piece of meat, he’d bring it over to Sansa to show it to her, as though it were a trophy. His preening made Sansa laugh, but she kept fussing over him so that he’d continue the cycle.

 By the time they had to leave, Sansa’s face was warm from all the smiling and laughter. She turned to Jon as they made their way to the passenger door. “Ghost was so happy today.”

“He should be. He ate half a moose!” His stomach let out a loud rumble as he took his seat behind the wheel.

“Hungry?” she asked with a chuckle.

He looked sheepish. “I skipped lunch. Mr. Mikken needed help with some broken desks in his classroom.”

Sansa smiled. “You’re such a do-gooder, Jon Snow. What have we done to deserve you?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer—or rather, awkwardly shrug away her praise. “Pull into that drive-through on your next right!”

“Huh?” Jon asked but did as she said. “What is this place?”

“The Ice Shack!” Sansa exclaimed. “They have the best milkshakes! Turn into that lane!”

Jon pulled up to the speaker, which was shaped like a penguin, and went wide-eyed when a voice asked them what he wanted.

“Two double cheeseburgers, everything on them, one large fry, and two strawberry milkshakes,” Sansa answered promptly. “Oh! And extra ketchup packets!”

The voice on the speaker told them their total. As Jon coasted up to the next window, Sansa dug into her purse and pulled out her wallet. “I am paying, and I don’t want to hear anything about it. I know I don’t have to. I want to.” She reached over Jon and handed the cashier a twenty dollar bill. When she settled back in her chair, Jon was shaking his head.

“You Starks,” he murmured.

“What about us Starks?”

He did not have to answer because the cashier was back with their food. Jon handed the milkshakes and grease-laden bag to Sansa and then found a spot in the parking lot and turned off the car.

As soon as his hands were free, Sansa started shoving food in his direction. Jon groaned as he started shoving fries into his mouth. He ripped the burger out of its wrapper and took a giant bite. “God, that’s good.”

Sansa giggled. “Ketchup?”

“Thanks.” Jon took a long sip of his milkshake. “How’d you know I like strawberry?”

“Because strawberry is the best,” she replied with a smile. That was something her dad always said whenever he ordered milkshakes. And then he’d wink at her mom, a private joke Sansa had never fully understood.

Jon finished drinking and quickly wiped his mouth, his ears growing pink. “Sorry, I’m being a pig.”

She shook her head. “I don’t mind.” Impossibly, Sansa made eating a burger in a car seem dainty. She’d arranged the wrapper like a napkin on her lap and was holding her burger carefully with both hands.

“Yeah, but—”

“But what?”

Jon looked away. “Downing junk food in the car. It just seems…”

“Yeah?”

“Well, not like something you normally do.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Jon, I basically forced you to pull over.”

“Well, it’s just that this isn’t very dignified—”

Sansa laughed. “You do realize I only watch movies about medieval princesses and I’m not actually one of them, right? Robb’s my older brother; I’ve eaten food in a car before.”

Jon chortled under his breath. “I know! It’s silly. Of course you have. It’s just, you’re so proper! Even now, you’re being so neat, and I’m a mess. I have mustard in my hair.”

Sansa leaned over and wiped the mustard out of his curls with her napkin. “You are a little bit of a mess, yes,” she said, giggling. “But no worse than Rickon most days.”

“Oh, so I’m comparable to a seven-year-old.”

“A very hungry one.” She’d not told Jon that Rickon at all his cookies, but she was quite glad he did. If Jon had eaten a few cookies earlier, they probably would not be sharing the last few fries in an abandoned parking lot.

She smiled and continued to eat her burger, grinning as she saw Jon try and fail to be neater. A piece of lettuce covered in ketchup fell into his hair.

She giggled.

“Oh, just toss me some more napkins, Princess Sansa!”

Grinning, she obliged.