#sometimes self care is just reading a recipe for stew

[animephantom]

Delicious in Dungeon, Episode 4: Stewed Cabbage/Orcs

I'm gonna put this in bold here. SPOILER WARNING. IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THIS WEEK'S EPISODE, DO NOT READ.

Delicious in Dungeon is a lovely show. It's got some excellent pacing, and I really appreciate how the main characters all approach the problems the writers present to them. I'd call this a cozy show. The main cast is fun as hell, with Senshi and Laios being my personal favorites. I mean, how do you go wrong with a dwarven gourmand and a warrior obsessed with monsters?

I'd like to add that normally I'm a fucking snob about subs/dubs, but the English dub is lovely! The voice cast does an excellent job conveying their characters' thoughts and feelings moment to moment, and it's clear they felt some fondness for the party due to the warmth you can almost feel in their voices.

We start this episode on the third floor of the dungeon, the Golden Castle, and right away Laios is showing off his extensive monster knowledge, displaying the ability to determine what different kinds of undead are simply from their footfalls. It's here we find out that Senshi keeps camps all over the dungeon, and the third floor is no exception. The group asks if he lives here, and he replies that he hardly ever sleeps here. There's hardly anything to hunt worth eating, so he mostly stays on higher floors in the dungeon.

While there's nothing worth eating here, there's still value to be found! Our dwarven friend had an incredibly clever idea: Golems are 90% magically animated dirt, so why not use that soil to grow plants in areas where you couldn't normally? As Chilchuck, the rogue of the party so neatly puts it, "a walking veggie patch"!

And it's this kind of thing about this show that I love. Most of the dishes are just 'insert given meal here, replace meat with fantasy variant, add fantasy vegetable', and while that might seem lazy to some, I personally love it. How else are you going to contextualize fantasy creatures than with meals you already know? But it's how it does it that always makes me smile.

Like in the previous episode with the Living Armor, where instead of being inhabited by spirits, the ones the party finds are inhabited by a strange sort of mollusk! So rather than come up with an entirely new way to prepare this fantasy meal, why not treat the creature like you would any other mollusk?

Anyway, back to the dirt: I think it's a fantastically clever idea, even if it is an affront to farming and magical studies. Also, how fucking cool is it that he tends the golems by disabling their magical cores? He doesn't kill them to just leave the dirt, because obviously their magic would fade! (I also think it's great that his excuse for tampering with magical creatures is basically "But I'm not tampering!)

This episode's first recipe is a fresh garden salad and stewed cabbage, fresh from the Golem fields! In today's recipe...

Got you!

Joking aside, I really like how the meals the party prepares are related to what kind of adventure they're having. Obviously they're cooking what monsters they kill, but what I mean more specifically is the kinds of meals themselves. This fresh salad and stew is a perfect meal to refresh yourself after a hard day's labor. I imagine the vegetables to be so light and crisp, and the cabbage stewed with potatoes, onion, carrot and bacon sounds light and filling.

After a lovely meal, the party cleans up the mess from the meal and Marcille pontificates on who maintains the bathrooms this far down into the dungeon. The narrator advises that in areas with high foot traffic, adventurers sometimes designate bathrooms to keep things relatively clean.

We already know who maintains them, obviously. It's Senshi's base camp, why wouldn't he keep the nearest bathroom taken care of? And where else would he get the fertilizer for the golems?!

And it's now that a big question occurs to Laios. "Why not live on the surface? Life's easier up there and you can still be self-sufficient." to wit Senshi replies "But if I lived up there, who would maintain the bathrooms down here? Who would get rid of any zombies who get stuck? Who'd fix the golems if they fell apart?"

This gives us more clarity on who Senshi is. He loves the dungeon. He lives to take care of it. But with that clarity come more questions. Why is Senshi here? Does he actually choose to be here, or is he a steward chosen by the Dungeon? Am I engaging in wild speculation? You bet your ass I am!

Senshi goes on to tell us about how he used to maintain an honor system vegetable stand, but he had to stop because someone kept stealing the money. Marcille and Chilchuk exchange a nervous glance and they say under their breaths "So that's why that chest was always filled with money." I have nothing to add to this, it's peak comedy to me.

Oh fuck! Orcs! A tavern tussle is turned into a hostile takeover when these guys show up, impaling some poor bastard for the mere crime of being in the way (That's okay, he can be resurrected for a fairly cheap fee). Your typical anime brawl slideshow happens, but shock of shocks! They know Senshi! And they trade for veg! It turns out they've been displaced by the Red Dragon causing problems! But shit remains violent as the desperation of their situation leaves them unable to let the party walk.

Hark, our party has been kidnapped! And then Marcille experiences a racism. "It's an elf! Look at her face! How barbaric!"

Sure, it's a little funny that the stereotypically pretty elf is experiencing racism and disgust from the stereotypically pig-like orcs present in almost any fantasy anime. I wonder if there wasn't a better way to do this gag though? I dunno.

Then there's more fantasy bullshit. Orcs got chased to the underground by the humans and the elves, and the orcs wouldn't stop raiding the land around them, and the elves poured oil into their caves, but all orcs ever did was rob and kill and terrorize everyone.

But now it's time for BREAD! BREAD! BREAD! BREAD! BREAD! *womph* WE'RE KNEADING BREAD DOUGH! ONCE YOU GET IT STRETCHING EASY, IT'S TIME FOR PROOFING!

Aggression still barely concealed, we experience more 'typical human' bullshit, where humans are all the same, and they're just looking to become king of the UG, and honestly, this plot's already tired. It's nothing new, and I'd really prefer to get back to the nice, relaxing dungeon crawl to rescue Laios's sister please.

AND THE INNOCENCE OF A CHILD SAVES THE DAY! Orc Papa wanted to keep the bread, and his kid says "But daddy, we made it together, why can't we eat it together?" Breaking the father's will to resist.

The episode's second recipe is Freshly Stolen Vegetables with Chicken in Stewed Cabbage, Best with Stolen Bread.

Do... Do I need to say anything about how this meal relates to the matter at hand? No? Cool. As with all anime food, it looks delicious as FUCK and I'd love some. And now Marceille is slightly less racist due to spicy food!

Laios clears up the misunderstanding by revealing his grand quest, and thank the writers so damn much for this. I was so worried that the plot was going to become a grand quest to become the king of the underground. With this in mind, I'll give the mention a pass. I know it's going to come up again later, but I feel like it's going to be a byproduct of trying to save the sister.

Sent off with well wishes and some leftovers, we continue our trek into the dungeon, to be continued next week, February first!

Overall, I enjoyed the episode. While the fantasy racism is tired as fuck, I still enjoy how food brought everyone together. It's silly, and I wouldn't have missed this part of the episode at all, but the rest of it is still pretty good. 7/10 or whatever, I'd watch it again.

#delicious in dungeon #anime review #anime #netflix #love you all have a good night

[partsofthemachine]

i’m gonna try to be here tomorrow to actual write.

#.ooc #| idk i wish i had a reason for like not being here #but i've just been reading cookbooks #sometimes self care is just reading a recipe for stew

[soliavenne]

Just Sand Sibling Things + Shinki: How do they deal with cooking?

Hi! I have been thinking of having Just Sand Sibling Things (+ Shinki now and then) as a series of works. :) I guess this is the first entry haha.

Hope you like it! <3

--

Excellent cook, obviously the most versatile out of the four. Appetizer, main entrée, snacks and dessert, you name it. Not very adventurous when it comes to recipes, but she’s well-rounded enough  with the basics to tweak an ingredient or a two from the book if she knows she’ll be able to improve the taste.

Knows that she’s great at what she does, and she’s damn proud of it.

Very confident, but can actually be secretly conscious of what she serves, especially when it’s her first time cooking the specific food. She would rather start over again than serve something that doesn’t suit her standards.

Tries her best to mind her own business while eating but is stealthily inspecting her brothers, or her husband and son’s facial expression as they eat her food.

Very organized, every ingredient is in each separate plates. Not the type to leave a pile of dirty plates on the sink and wash it all at once by the end of cooking. She will wash some of them now and then if she could leave the cooking process alone on itself.

Praise her damn food, praise her cooking skills. She might not look like it but she’s a big, big sucker for appreciation. If you have been generous for the past few days with compliments, she’ll try her best to free up her schedule and proceed to serve a damn feast over the table.

If ever she ends up serving something that doesn’t taste good, she would understand a very faint grimace or two on your face. But that’s all, don’t bother telling her about it if she doesn’t ask you about it. She knows what’s wrong already and she’s already beating up herself about it.

Mostly cooks foods that are on the healthier spectrum, but would flat out bake herself her own pizza and brownies at 12 AM.

Would try to hide her midnight snacks as much as possible, but if she gets caught, she would huff and act all annoyed but is secretly happy to share it. She just likes riling people up a bit, but she’s very sweet and generous.

What reads above cannot be applied if she’s on her period or she had a fight with Shikamaru, you better fuck off and leave her alone.

--

He’s not that much keen to cooking, but this man is not dumb. Knows at least the very, very basic fundamentals around the kitchen.

It’s those common mistakes that usually happens if someone’s just starting to venture out on cooking. A little too much salt, a little heavy on the pepper, the meat is tad bit raw while the crust is already burned. Those kind of technical mishaps. He would not be unbelievably awful at it.  

Tries his best to listen to Temari’s advices on cooking, but he ends up overthinking it. He’s best off learning on his own and figuring out for himself what went wrong.

Skilled at cooking instant foods and junk foods. Knows damn well how to elevate them. The type of food he ends up cooking are more on the indulgent side, mostly savory type of foods. Hamburgers, meat pizza, steak, and ribs, you name it.

Has been secretly saving up to buy his own pellet grill and personalize it.

Does not know exactly how to cook healthy-family based foods like vegetable stew or chicken soup or anything of the like. He either gets to eat it if Temari is cooking, or it’s a takeout.

Very messy cook. Spoons with unidentified sauces are everywhere, there’s even a plate on the living room that he’s not sure how it even got there.

Would probably wash it once a dirty pan had punched his face and Temari is screaming on the other end of the handle.

Don’t talk to him when he’s focusing, he’s going to get flustered about the whole thing.

Just as sensitive as Temari when it comes to feedback. He would laugh alongside a negative comment, but he won’t be cooking anything that isn’t instant food for the next whole week.

If you praise him so much he will end up being so worked up about it that he cooks the same thing tomorrow night. He would try so hard to hit the same note but he was overthinking it the whole time so it doesn’t end up as good.

A genuine praise could go such a long way for Kankuro. He might not look like it but he’s genuinely appreciative of it and finds it very encouraging.

--

Doesn’t necessarily hate cooking, but he just doesn’t know to pave his way around it.

Believes that cooking is a fundamental skill, but is still avoiding the opportunity to work on it. He had bought some cooking books and probably printed some recipes from Yahoo and allrecipes.com, but he’s secretly relieved whenever Kankuro asks if he wants something to eat from the store.

Very shy about asking for help, but if Temari or Kankuro does volunteer to teach him something, he would not refuse it.

Nearly passed out once because he has been letting his breakfast pass when Temari left for Konoha. Kankuro scolded him a bit, but ten minutes later they were already talking about sandwiches. When Gaara mentioned that he misses waking up to Temari cooking pancakes in their shared apartment, they surprisingly ended up having a genuinely-deep conversation about it; talking along the lines of how they really feel about their sister leaving Suna.

Kankuro told him that he’ll be letting him off easy but if he wants to be a much more effective Kazekage, he has to take care of himself. The epiphany had hit Gaara so hard he bought a new apron and a pan on his way home from work.

The first set of foods that he focused on was under the bracket of breakfast meals. A bowl of plain oatmeal and a little bit of sugar was okay, but it did get redundant and he swore to himself he’d throw the bowl out of the window if he had to make another one of it again for the 3rd week of that month.

Began to buy pancake box-mixes where all he had to worry about was adding eggs, water and oil. Once he had gotten the hang of it, he decided to follow a pancake recipe from scratch. He thinks it tastes better, but it wasn’t something he could do every day.

Thinks he had found his soulmate when he started making granola. He could prepare it in advance and stock it up. He finds it very convenient.

An understandable kind of messy, maybe a little smudge of batter on his cheek when he’s cooking pancakes. Dirty plates would be on a pile but he would arrange them by size and category before washing them all together after he ends up eating.

Takes cooking seriously that he even bought a hairnet. Kankuro caught him once wearing it and the ten-minute laugh he had out of watching his baby brother cook with a hairnet on just made Gaara opt to tie his hair instead.

Sometimes boils eggs at night in advance so that he could simply peel one in the morning for breakfast.  

All in all, he mostly cooks usual, literally off the recipe book breakfast meals. Most of them are healthy.

It would take a lot of time before you get him to serve you the food he made. He doesn’t like disappointing people and as stoic as he may be he would also be just as sensitive about it.

Began to develop the drive to cook better when he adopted Shinki. He remembers vividly how happy he was whenever Yashamaru brings him a bento, so he decides to take the effort to study bento making now and then whenever he’s not that busy.

When he saw a small, cute apron from the store, he found himself buying it to give to Shinki. He still hasn’t built up the courage to ask Shinki to have a cooking bonding with him though because he’s not that confident about his skills just yet.

--

A very responsible kid. Has the self-awareness that basics of cooking should be developed in order to survive independently no matter where you go. He even knows how to start fire from scratch.

The first thing he had ask Gaara regarding preparing food is how Gaara makes his coffee. Ever since he was able to replicate it, he sometimes even gets up earlier than his father so that he could prepare the warm beverage beforehand. He doesn’t drink coffee everyday, but with a craving now and then sometimes, he likes adding a splash of milk to it. He and Gaara both share the same preference when it comes to the level of sweetness.  

Not very adventurous when it comes to recipes. As long as it’s filling and easy to make, that will be his chosen route.

Has asked Gaara once about his special pancake mix, and he had been making it mostly everyday. The fluffy texture of it soon got a little tiring, so he started wondering what else he could eat for breakfast. Despite being very mature for his age, he’s still a kid who has the hint of wonder for foods that are still comfortable yet a little exciting now and then.

When Yodo took him and Araya once to a waffle stand on their way home from a mission, he started buying one almost everyday. He’s more of a savory-waffle kind of kid.

Gaara takes notice of this, and when Shinki woke up to a wafflemaker and printed waffle recipes on the kitchen counter one morning, he couldn’t help a very, very rare and genuine smile on his face.

He might not that be that much inclined to cooking, but on days where he’s not busy, he tries to read about it. His main drive about cooking is so that his father comes home to a much more healthier meal instead of having takeouts almost every night. He loves and respect his father that much, and he’s also health and fitness-conscious since he really does take his job as a shinobi very seriously.

The same as Temari in terms of cooking. Neatly organized, no dirty plates lying around the counter. Every ingredient is measured and calculated.

His face might not be anywhere near grinning but he’s actually happy whenever he dons the apron that Gaara bought him.

Doesn’t really care if you don’t like the food unless you’re his dad.

 --

#temari #kankuro #gaara #shinki #gaara of the desert

[honeylikewords]

Can I request David for the prompt? Who takes care of whom on sick days, brings the other lunch, and brings up having kids if that’s okay...

Sure thing!

Who takes care of whom on sick days?:

It’s a pretty even split, actually, but David tends to have the stronger constitution in the couple-- cold and flu season seem to skate past him year after year, most unfairly-- so he is often the one taking care of his wife, and he doesn’t mind in the least.

It might not seem the case, given his stature and previous less-than-gentle employ, but David has a deep-running caring streak and a natural inclination towards mother-henning. He tends to fret over his wife whenever she’s ill (he always feels like it’s the end of the world and worries himself sick over her, hour after hour) and it ends up being that David’s poor wife will have to comfort him into calmness even when it’s her throwing up her guts or delirious with fever.

Still, David will sit by her side, massive paw wrapped around her small, clammy hand, daubing her forehead with a cool cloth, bringing her drinks and propping her up on comfy pillows. He’ll cook her up a hearty stew-- his own recipe!-- and slowly feed it to her himself, hands as gentle as he can make them as he holds the spoon to her lips, regardless of her insistence that she can feed herself.

He doesn’t like to talk too much when she’s sick, concerned that his voice might bother her, but she often asks him to read to her when she isn’t well; television can be too loud and too bright and too distracting, but his voice, low and deep and steady, always calms her. And David has never been one to deny her what she wants, after all, so he’ll fetch a book from their home library and take up a seat beside her and begin reading, his tone constant and hushed.

He likes to read from relatively simple books like “The Little House On The Prairie” and “The Princess Bride”; relaxing stories, familiar, welcoming. She also likes to hear old Dickensian stories in his voice, though he sometimes struggles with the more antiquated language, so she reserves that kind of request for when he’s feeling especially loquacious (and generous).

Thankfully, she’s never contracted anything too severe, so after a few days of tissues and sweat and maybe a little throwing up here and there, she’ll be back to her old self and David’s anxieties over her will begin to abate. Still, he kind of enjoys nursing her back to health, and will continue to pamper her a bit, even after the illness has subsided, if only to have the joy of taking care of her. He can’t help it; it’s so cute when she lets him feed her!

Who brings the other lunch?:

David’s wife likes to bring him lunch; the fella works really, really hard in the outdoors for nearly the whole day without taking any real breaks (aside from sitting down to drink some water every few hours), so she’ll go out and find him and bring him a sandwich and some soup in a thermos and try to bring him home with the promise of even more lunch back there. More often than not, ever the unrelenting adorer of his bride, David will give in and come back with her for a good meal.

When he can’t be lured home, she’ll accept and make sure to square up a hefty dinner so that he can make up for lost calories later when he comes home.

Inversely, if David’s home and his wife is working on something, he’ll come find wherever she is and slide her a bowl of something delicious-- he’s taken to making his own pasta and sauce from scratch, which is just magnificent-- and happily sit at her side and make sure she eats it all. It really makes him happy to know she’s healthy and fed, and even happier to know she’s enjoying something he made for her himself!

Who brings up having kids?:

David’s wife, if only because she’s the more talkative of the two. David’s wanted children since he was old enough to hold a baby in his own two hands, and it’s always been part of his dream to be a father, someday, so a major dynamic in David choosing his life partner is knowing that they, too, want kids.

Still, he waited quietly for her to bring it up of her own accord, not wanting to push the envelope or seem too desperate or out of line by asking about her intentions with having children, patiently twiddling his thumbs and hoping she’d pick up on his “subtle clues” (such as leaving magazines open on diaper ads, watching movies about families or expecting parents, pointing out little babies in public, admiring maternity clothes or picking up baby clothes and cooing over the smallness).

Of course, she could tell right away that this gentle giant who was always sticking his face into baby buggies to see the little one within and waving at toddlers and weeping to himself at commercials showing eeny weeny newborns in their mothers’ arms was a man who wanted children, and it just naturally came up through the course of their conversations.

She brought it up fairly early in the relationship one day when they were sitting at a cafe, David cramped into a tiny bistro seat and clutching at an embarrassingly small coffee cup. They watched a mother bouncing a tiny little baby on her knee and David’s beloved made a soft “oh” sound, putting her hand to her chest and smiling.

“Look at that little angel,” she said, gesturing at the baby who was now making exploratory squeaks as they reached wrinkled little hands up at their mother.

David whipped around in his chair, excited, and caught a glimpse of the baby as they stretched their absolutely minuscule arms up over their head. He made a low, happy hum, turning back around with warmth in his expression.

“I just love babies,” she began, swirling her spoon in her drink, trying to seem casual. “Their tiny rolls, their bitty noses, those cute sounds they make...”

David nodded in agreement, his smile spreading.

“Their big eyes,” he added, voice craggy and textured from underuse.

“Oh, absolutely! I hope someday I have a baby as sweet as that,” she mused, giving her aloof act her best efforts. “It’d be wonderful, wouldn’t it?”

A pinkness filled David’s cheeks and his eyes skirted quickly between her face and his hands as he began to nervously trace the rim of his mug, a wiggly smile presenting itself on his lips as he did his damnedest to suppress it. Nodding, he cleared his throat slightly.

“I’d like lots of little ones, someday,” he rumbled, cheeks turning from pink to red from the strain of trying to keep his manners in check. 

“W...Would you?”

She reached over and slipped her hand over his, stroking his scarred knuckles affectionately. He looked up and locked eyes with her, melting as she gave him a reassuring nod, conveying all her love through her gaze as she delivered a squeeze to his palm.

“I’d love that,” she answered.

His whole face turned a burning, incandescent red, and his grin bloomed to take up all the real estate it could as he shyly looked down at their hands and squeezed back.

She was the one, and he knew it, right then and there. And he knew it over and over again, renewed with each passing day, and realizing it twofold, tenfold, a hundredfold when they did, one day, have their own little ones.

Thank you for requesting my dearest David!

(Prompts came from this list!)

#messages #anonymous #the mute #modern!david #long post

[twistednuns]

December 2019

Maxim calling out of the blue, inviting me to the Mine concert later that month.

Stumbling upon great inspiration for plant-based buddha bowls.

@shitgothssay memes.

Zotter salted caramel chocolate.

Finding out about the fact that you can just add the letter A to some words to transform them into adjectives. Like aglitter or aglow and aglisten.

Ayurvedic Kapha tea with some black tea, honey and milk. Sonnentor Gute Laune tea. Green tea with toasted coconut.

Isana shower oil. Works wonders for dry skin. Such a smooth and creamy texture. Great for shaving, too.

Winning the pub quiz - again! I played with Maggie, Dennis, Daniel and Steffen (Team name: Three geese in a trenchcoat) and we won 178€. However, the best thing about this was when I finally solved the anagram after thinking about it for 10 minutes. It was Greta Thunberg! Winning is lovely, of course, but solving the anagram is already a personal win for me each time.

Tuesdays. Coming home early, sleeping it off.

Being super rested after a nap, cooking a huge pot of veggie stew and my ratatouille signature recipe, even preparing a batch of butter bean hummus and salad dressing. Listening to folk music, singing along, even dancing at some point. Standing there, peeling the potatos… Happy moment.

Signature manicure. Always. This time: bluish iridescent lilac with the obligatory black dot.

A personal realisation. I’ve been massively out of touch with myself. I’ve stopped journaling, stopped doing things for myself because they’re beneficial and not because they’re convenient and numb everything. And why is that a good thing? Well, only being at this point and realising what’s wrong with me makes it possible to do something against it. To come up a self-care plan. To make myself feel better.

Semi-deleting Facebook.

Spending time with Manu for the first time in three months. Watching a documentary about black holes and a cheesy Christmas movie. Ordering south Indian food, cuddling up in bed. Sometimes I don’t know why I keep isolation myself. Being around people can be really lovely and soothing if you can be yourself around them. It’s just that I often feel the presence of other living beings drains my energy.

The best massage I ever had. From now on I’ll always request Yaya as my massage therapist. She is SICK. Strong, merciless, forces me into weird poses and makes my back crack.

Also: the chocolate-filled mint hard candy they hand out at the massage studio. I used to hate mint-infused chocolate but somehow I think these are delicious. Perfect after-torture-treat.

Persimmons. Obsessed.

My eye colour in artificial light. A dark moss green with caramel-coloured speckles and a dark rim.

The National playing a 2-hour-long concert and including some of my favourite songs from the High Violet album. Fangirling with Anika.

The smell of cold. You know, that whiff of cool air you get when you’re sniffing a jacket that’s been hanging on the balcony for a few hours to air out.

Learning more about Claire Saffitz from this article - she likes arts and crafts, is a homebody and has degrees in history and literature! She basically enrolled in culinary school because she was bored after graduation. She’s an enigma of a quirky kind. Not brilliant and scattered, but determined and aimless. Not brave and rebellious, but anxious and creative. She hates change yet pursues it, wants order but trades in chaos. She’s loved because she hates stuff; performs well because she can’t perform. And above all, she’s aggressively regular—and something about this makes the crowd go wild.

Fresh laundry smell on my blankets and pillows. And my new gravity blanket. It weighs 11kg which feels crazy heavy when you carry it but the weight evenly distributes over the body when you’re lying down. Apparently the pressure triggers the release of stress hormones. So far I’m sleeping like a baby and I don’t seem to wake up or move much at night.

Stephanie Madewell. I love everything she writes, her blog is such a godsend of beautiful, important, eclectic ideas. One thing I especially like are her imaginary outfits.

Princess Margaret’s limerick contest with President Lyndon B. Johnson in The Crown. Pure comedy. “There was a young lady from Dallas / who used a dynamite stick as a phallus / they found her vagina in North Carolina / and her asshole in Buckingham Palace.”

Little pieces of string in the corners of a duvet cover. It’s the first time I’ve seen those. So practical for big blankets!

Mental health days. I needed this. So much. Mornings in bed, reading for hours. Drinking a whole pot of tea.

Partner yoga. Chanting the closing mantra together.

Making vegan energy balls for my brother. I adapted the recipe and made my own versions so I ended up with a batch of pistachio/cherry and mango/sesame.

Freaking out whenever I see a cute cat. Damn, I really need to spend more time with animals. My highlight: breakfast in bed, watching a video of an adorable cat giving birth. I cried. Yup.

Going swimming for the first time in, man, I don’t even know. Forever. I didn’t swim for a long time, maybe half an hour, but muscle memory kicked in immediately. Water is totally my element. And, as if it had been destiny: I chose the day they cut the hanging plants in the main hall and the guy gave me a variety of five different cuttings to take home!! He made me a very happy girl.

The ink blue sky right after sunset. / The morning after the full moon in Gemini (the moon still bright and huge, visible in the bluish-grey Western sky). / When the sun suddenly comes out after a very dark and gloomy morning.

Buying a new phone. The old one was broken beyond repair. I even got a nice cork protective case. How could I ever live without an uncracked screen? The battery now actually lasts for more than a day. Nice.

Odd bits of knowledge: A galanthophile is an enthusiastic collector and identifier of snowdrop (Galanthus) species and cultivars. (Wikipedia) // Scientists theorize the Universe might have cracks in it: long thin boundaries that formed as space cooled after the Big Bang. 95 billion lightyears long and a few femtometers thin, these wrinkles in space-time would hold enough energy to bend light and destroy entire planets. (PHD comics) // the word to bloviate (German meaning: schwafeln, langatmig vortragen) // In Japan we have three rituals: HANAMI, TSUKIMI, and YUKIMI. HANAMI is watching the flowers. TSUKIMI is watching the moon, YUKIMI is watching the snow. It’s a beautiful tradition when you invite people to watch with you. I remember them all. (Yoko Ono) // In linguistics, prosody is concerned with those elements of speech that are not individual phonetic segments (vowels and consonants) but are properties of syllables and larger units of speech, including linguistic functions such as intonation, tone, stress, and rhythm. Such elements are known as suprasegmentals. Prosody may reflect various features of the speaker or the utterance: the emotional state of the speaker; the form of the utterance (statement, question, or command); the presence of irony or sarcasm; emphasis, contrast, and focus. It may otherwise reflect other elements of language that may not be encoded by grammar or by choice of vocabulary. (Wikipedia) //

I know I mention this a lot but the first olfactory whiff of a freshly cut open passion fruit is one of the best smells I know.

When my breakfast tastes like a candy bar. Which it immediately does whenever I add almond butter and cocoa nibs to porridge.

Yoga at home on a sunny Saturday afternoon. I’m often too lazy to get out my yoga mat but whenever I do afterwards I’m always so glad I practiced. Also: going to yoga class despite being extremely stressed out. It actually helped me silence some of these tormenting thoughts in my head.

Cutting my own hair. It’s kinda ridiculous and layered but I love the new bounce.

Michael Nyman - Musique à grande vitesse x // feels like it makes my pulse quicker, it’s urging and forceful.

My adventures in psychedelia - an article about the therapeutic effect of psychoactive drugs. I’m going to get Michael Pollan’s book about the topic from the library next week. So interesting.

People who are still writing letters.

My pupils. I realised that some of them have become very fine people. Open, compassionate, motivated, interested, bright, polite. Like the students who attended our first school magazine meeting in their spare time - on the last school day before the Christmas holidays - and had all these amazing ideas. Victor, being able to hold a conversation like an adult. Marks cuddling that dog in front of the supermarket. My tenth-graders being really reasonable, managable, easy to talk to.

Liza Weil’s role as Shy Baldwin’s bass player in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. It took me three episodes to recognize her.

A little embroidery set. I love keeping my hands busy when I’m watching movies.

Making vegan walnut lebkuchen and a very good batch of crisp bread in one go.

Roast apples with candied almonds and marzipan for Christmas dinner. Some buckwheat chocolate cookies. Actually helping out my mum in the kitchen.

Sitting at the piano with my brother, singing tunes from our childhood series, Disney songs, pop songs… We both had sore throats afterwards.

Visiting Sash’s parents over Christmas. Her mum cooked a pretty great lunch and we played board games.

Learning how to make a monkey fist knot.

Finding a new spot I like in my apartment. The chair right next to the window at the kitchen table. It’s nice and warm because you can sit beside the heater and while you have breakfast or browse through a cookbook you can see what’s going on outside.

Seeing the incredible gobelins at Kunsthalle / Fäden der Moderne exhibition. I loved the Le Corbusier ones.

Visiting Manu at his parents' place. Playing board games together, his mum feeding me with parsley potatoes and a weird _bird's milk_ dessert. Lying on the sofa, watching old movies. It's weirdly nice to be part of a normal family dynamic once in a while.

Andre saving my New Year’s Eve at the very last minute. Out of the blue he suggested a trip to Czech Republic right after midnight the day before. I was like… okay, let’s do this! So I met up with him and three people I had never met before in Regensburg and we drove to Český Krumlov, checked into our fancy hotel and walked down to the city centre. Czech food for dinner, a band playing at the city square. We climbed up to the castle for the turn of the year. This must have been the first year that started out with a proper New Year’s kiss. Afterwards we went to a weird music bar and - apparently - one of the best clubs in the country. I had a lot of fun. Even though getting Andre home was quite a challenge.

#things i love #personal #present perfect #december #2019 #december 2019

[kurojiri]

He’s trying

Fandom(s): Iron Man (Movies); Marvel Cinematic Universe; Spider-Man: Homecoming Gen: Tony Stark & JARVIS; Tony Stark & FRIDAY; Tony Stark & Peter Parker Summary: Cooking, was unfortunately, not one his many skills he has padded down. Aka: 5 times Tony tries to cook alone  + 1 time he didn't. Square Fill: Learning to Cook A/N: @iron-man-bingo  Word Count: 2,776 Or read on ao3

“Sir?”

Besides the empty kitchen and with the windows wide open, Tony still found it hard to wake himself up properly. His head didn't ache nor had he drunk for the past two days, a record really, for a twenty-something old Tony Stark who had lived through so many parties and blackouts in the mornings. It had been one of those days when Tony Stark didn't know what to do with his life, he could return to his workspace and chose a random project to finish, or he could jot down a few new ideas to try out later but, instead he ended up in his kitchen. A place he didn't really do much there but had since he did eat occasionally when Rhodey had successfully managed something edible to end up inside his stomach.

A normal person would have had a fully stocked pantry and refrigerator but in Tony's case it had been mostly empty, save a few odd takeout stored in there. There had been some that should have been thrown out by now, but he didn’t pay attention to them just yet. He had spotted some eggs and butter and figured he might as well do something productive and virtually something unlike him as his stomach took cue to grumble out loud. Being sober had been bad enough that starvation wasn’t something he had been keen on either.

(How people could stand being sober for more than two days, Tony did not understand them.)

He took them out wordlessly before addressing his A. I who by then had shown some emotions that he did not remember programming him having.

“It's morning, right? So, breakfast should be eaten right now if I’m pretending to be a normal person.”

“Yes, sir. It is rational for a person to eat breakfast before starting their day. Shall I contact the usual to prepare you something?”

The eggs and butter were still out. Uncharacteristically, he shook his head. It still amazed him how he forgot how it felt to not have a huge headache because of alcohol. He had been going through a withdrawal last night, but his own body had shut down from the needed sleep his body craved, so he won that night. He didn’t think he could last to lunch. So, he figured he might as well try breakfast before he raided the vodka later.

“Nah, I think I’ll try to whip something up for myself before we admit defeat.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Definitely. I'm feeling like pancakes and some eggs. It can’t be that hard to do.” He strolled over to the pantry again to fetch the pancake mix and to some random bowls before getting started.

Ten minutes later after the fire burned most of his stove and 911 had been called, he ordered breakfast.

He tried. .

“JARVIS, how hot is it?”

The sun had been suspiciously killing him each time he woke up to sweaty clothes clinging to him. It had been worse when he had women over, the sheets didn’t welcome him when he woke up in those days. He probably spent most of his time in the shower where the cold water helped somewhat. California's summers were not his favorite times. Sure, there was a nonexistent winter in some parts but the summer was three-fourths prominent in his life.

“It is 99 degrees, with a chance of it reaching towards 104 later this afternoon.”

He whipped off the sweat from his brow as he whistled out loud his complaint. “Well shit. No wonders I’m sweating everywhere. That’s it I’m not going to work today or tomorrow. Pepper can pry off my sweaty ass from the shower if she really wants a go. But I’m not leaving.”

Ten minutes later after his first, but not last shower he walked over the refrigerator where there had been cold beers inside and ready for him to drink into oblivion. An odd watermelon had been in there too with sliced pieces in a large plate. He didn't remember ever eating them or buying one since he had left his family mansion. Tony didn’t know whether to hiss at the fruit or not for bringing up memories that should have not popped up in the first place. He did take out the plate and poked them. They were still freshly cut.

And too healthy for him to consume. That wouldn’t do. He needed nourishment and a buzz. “Hey, JARVIS give me some recipes for a fun treat with watermelon and with—” he spotted a couple of ingredients that he used on occasion with guest. “Tequila, orange liqueur, and lime juice.”

“Right away Sir.”

When Pepper came later that day, she had not been shocked to him eating a watermelon popsicle with alcohol in it. She really couldn’t. At least the kitchen survived from Tony using it that day. .

He got sick.

That really had been the only reason why he didn’t drink for that week. It had been horrendous. 1000/10 would not recommend. Besides the runny nose, the clogged throat and fever that came and went the cold sweat was just plain disgusting. The shivers had been annoying too since had to keep call Pepper to order more blankets.

He was sure that Pepper was getting too fed up with random calls for soup or other shit he couldn’t remember asking with the hazy memory he had going. He blacked out some memories too as he woke up on a coach or inside his lab several times when he knew he had been sleeping in his room. Tony usually took really good care in having no sick people near him, and it had worked out perfectly for most his life. It seemed like he ran out of luck this season as the flu came in hard and fast.

He would give Pepper a raise once this flu left his body. “JARVIS, make a note of that.”

“Duly noted.”

It still didn’t change that he was sick, moaning and bitching in the middle of his living room. Watching TV barely kept his attention too when he had it turn on. The medicine didn’t really kick in until he reached the cooking channel. The image of a beef stew had made his stomach ache. And in some poor sad image, Tony wobbled to the kitchen where he promptly asked JARVIS to keep him company as well be his second command as he attempted to make the stew from memory. The fire department had been called twenty minutes later with a scolding Pepper right behind them.

.

Slightly nodding off but still very coherent to be awake, he had stumbled to the kitchen at three in the morning. His reflexes had been getting rusty since he passed late twenties, but he didn’t let that stop him from opening his freezer. It had been a long journey since the whole Iron-Man thing happened. JARVIS was gone and he needed to do something. Anything really with him not sleeping.

Pepper was not there, as she had to be the more responsible CEO and away for a business trip. Their penthouse was quite different from the tower and faculty where the rest of the odd man of Avengers went to. He didn’t know why he couldn’t sit still. Tony had meant it when he said he would not be Iron Man. He did want to branch away from it. And yet. There he was debating to order food from a 24/7 place or not.

The freezer didn’t hold anything that he really wanted, but there a premade lasagna. The box even had directions there for him to pop it inside an oven. Life should have been simple like that; having directions like food did. It would help make the world so much easier to navigate. And for someone like Tony, he needed an easy assignment or task to do since all that clusterfuck that came to be his life.

“Hey, Fri, can you be a good girl and preheat the oven for me.”

As he closed the freezer his A. I responded back. “Are you sure that is wise to do so boss? I have a protocol to alert Ms. Potts, Mr. Rhodes and any other person in proximity if you attempt to cook.”

That stung a bit that he didn’t have any support from his current A. I in his cooking. He was sure that JARVIS loved spending time with him when he tried to be domestic. Even if most of those times did involve other people watching him not burning a toaster. Or that he couldn’t eat anything that he did manage to create. It still meant a lot to him since he remembered the times, he did have the real Jarvis cooking for him since he never did like the way his nannies made him snacks or meals.

“Hey, I can make toast without breaking the toaster. And I’m a billionaire so, I can afford to remodel the kitchen any day, week and year without it being a problem.”

He ripped open the box and went over the oven. “Now, it's just a premade lasagna. It can’t be that hard to heat up.”

Over the other side of the country, Pepper woke up to the background noise of people talking and for some reason her gut knowing Tony had tried cook. How she knew, she didn’t bother dig deep as she heard Tony slowly explaining himself on the other end.

“So, turns out premade food is still a risky thing for me to do alone. Although, I blame FRIDAY’s negative feedback. It brought the moral down.”

“Tony.”

“I know. I know, don’t cook alone.” .

With drinking out of his life Tony Stark knew he needed to find better ways to use his time. Tinkering had always been his thing. And while sometimes they got him into trouble and had been a nasty habit to become obsessed with, cooking had been that weird zone where he did in small and rare times in his life. He never got good at it. (But somehow his life did end up with the fire departments that had been close to his California and New York home did get to know him.) Any practice time he did use, he needed to be supervised by other people. As neither of his A. I counted, apparently.

There had many times when he had to remodel and replace appliances as a consequence, but Tony Stark could not consider himself as a quitter for anything. He had wanted to get better, to impress people like Pepper and Rhodey that he could make one dish without having a disaster being invited into the mix. He had always lived to in a motto for self-improvement after he had hit rock bottom and wanted out, he wanted to be a decent human being.

How it came back to learning how to cook, he didn’t know; but Tony knew that if he had to pick something to other than sticking inside his lab he had to choose something remotely useful. Like being able to go a day and eat a chicken taco salad because he wanted to eat one. He could have ordered one, but really, if he made it, it would have made the whole ordeal of looking like he could pull it off being someone that Pepper could count on.

When he had been younger Jarvis had been someone that he liked watching cooking. Those memories sometimes still hurt for him think about, but as he grew older he could appreciate them. The salad may have been seen as a joke, but for Tony, he really just wanted one plate he could make. It didn’t matter how long he would have to practice to getting it right, he wanted it done.

“Boss, shall I inform Ms. Potts?”

He had all the ingredients ready. “Sure. Knock your socks off. I'll start washing the lettuce while you’re at it.”

He’ll get there eventually. Along, with FRIDAY looking out for him.

.

“So, basically, your class is having a dessert cook-off?”

Tony had lowered his tablet that he had been looking over when Peter sat down across of him for a lunch break, he could tell that he had been nervous about the ordeal with one hand tapping against his thighs. A habit, Tony noticed since they started to regularly meet up two-three times after school and weekends for the internship that became legal with documents and pay, as he insisted after Peter had shown him sketches of things he wanted to create. The kid was brilliant, and he would damn make sure he would help his spider-kid getting the right material and opportunities to change the world whether he wore the spandex as he fought crime or diligently engineering in the lab, he provided him. When Peter nodded Tony gestured for him to pass him the flyer that his homeroom period had passed out a day prior. It had been crumpled and constantly been reopened and folded by the worn creases it endured.

He wasn't a genius when it came to the kitchen, but when his kid looked hopeful, he knew he couldn't resist the puppy eyes that had been unintentionally aimed at him.

“Sure, why not. I'm free that day.” Peter's body instantly relaxed as he flashed him a happy grin. “I'm going to assume that your aunt is going to be the third team member, right?”

They both knew that their team was going to create a unique entry with Peter being the only person that could decently make cereal and eggs scrambled on a good day. That, and because of the very colorful history Tony with the years of him trying to make anything edible. Did anyone ever mention to Peter of Tony’s lack of skills for cooking? Was it even a good idea to participate and probably burn down his school, just because Peter asked him to be in his team? It was too late to back out now, he already said yes. He also didn’t want to disappoint him.

And besides, it could only end in disaster if Peter and May gave him a big part in the meal. He could mix and stir without raising hell. It would be fine. (But he would make sure to give the heads up to both Parkers either way during practice hours.)

“She saw the flyer and got excited over it.” Peter shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. “She actually was the one to voice in seeing if you wanted to participate too.”

“Really?”

Besides the whole cooking thing nagging into his skull, he was still new to being a mentor with Peter. It had been a good change in his life; even if there had been moments, he knew that he gained gray hairs because of the kid. He sort of reminded him of how reckless the youth could be as it brought him back into remembering his exchange with May Parker.

It had a few weeks since the homecoming disaster and from her marching to the closest office she could find to mark an impromptu meeting with him. There had a few furious curses that had been thrown from her side; but nothing aimed directly at him, which sort of surprised him since he has had a past of pissing off women that did (and in some ended with a slap on the face too). In that day, they eventually got to the point where she did give them a timeout to calm the room. May Parker had been resilient woman since the death of her husband and finding out about Spider-Man, and when they came to discuss Peter's future Tony had just been happy to still have a part in it. Even more so, to be allowed to see Peter growth first hand.

“She likes you now. Aunt May knows that you're for serious in mentoring and looking out for me.”

“Okay then. We’ll have to schedule in days to practice our desserts before the cook-off.” And for the fire department to get the heads up that Tony Stark would be trying to cook again.

Peter took out his phone with a list already filled options to consider. “Can we try making the pumpkin ginger cupcakes or a cheesecake?”

He leaned forward to ruffle Pete’s curls. “Sure kid. FRIDAY, can you pull the recipes for them? Oh, and don’t forget to call May to see if she’s free to come over as soon as possible.”

Because honestly, he didn’t want to be alone with precious cargo who still didn’t know how terrible he was in the kitchen.

#iron man bingo 2019 #Tony Stark #Jarvis #Friday #Peter Parker #gen #bingo fill #Ht: He's trying #fic: 1-5k #5+1 fic

[neureaux]

one of my most important treatments starts next week, it’s with the national traumatic stress clinic & it’s one that feels really integral to growth and the kind of healing that’s important to me. healing that takes a while, but it’s permanent. sturdy.

i’m grateful but lately i’ve been feeling a bit weary/tired just in general, not because of the treatments but just in my life, temporarily. i’m doing a lot of treatments, making lots of changes and chasing up a lot of things, and i’m finding myself straddling that physical health & mental health/ptsd overlap and it’s sometimes like juggling. the apartment’s still being renovated, so in the meantime i’ve been focusing on keeping my current one neat just for the sake of preserving my headspace and for pre-preparation for the move and it’s been good for me. i let it get a bit cluttered recently when i wasn’t that well and it made me feel kind of emotionally congested so i’m choosing to stay on top of it now.

these days my weeks are busy, with convenient gaps of a few days towards the end of the week to reflect, restructure and regroup and i’m pretty grateful. i’m easing myself back into socialising but i remember that it can be more complex than just getting on with it alone, honestly i’ve become pretty comfortable with not really doing it and i enjoy my own company, i’m still fairly sensitive emotionally too so it can be tricky to navigate being with others so i’m taking it slowly and all i can do is my best! i’m doing pretty well with pushing myself into speaking up a bit more, with working out how to vocalise my thoughts + feelings and also protecting my energy thankfully, as a big thing is to avoid falling back into any patterns that made me do unhealthy stuff or things that make me feel like i need to indulge extra coping mechanisms in the first place, like actively fighting to conceal my ptsd or health issues/pain and having it backfire on me both at the time and later on/when i come home and causing me damage, or allowing myself to endure things that i don’t want to for extended periods for the sake of others and feeding into unhealthy ideas about myself based in low self-esteem. it’s a lot of work right from the ground up, but it’s actually turning out to be creating a genuinely healthy environment and headspace for myself very gently, not one that just appears okay-ish as long as you don’t look too long or too closely, one that just exists very precariously and only in “perfect” conditions, it’s the creation of something authentic with work so i’m actually very grateful and i’m being careful to nurture that properly and also to work through irrational feelings of guilt for doing that and taking care of myself properly! i’m trying to teach myself for real that i’m at least worth taking care of and i won’t let anyone that can’t actually do it themselves guilt trip me into not doing it for myself and am working on being okay with truly giving myself at least that normal human courtesy. i’m really enjoying cooking at the moment though, and as i get more comfortable in the kitchen i’m branching out more, getting used to cooking the things i like to order at restaurants and learning what my favourite flavours and smells are just in my home. i recently made my first risotto from scratch and i was so proud, i got so full that i fell asleep! i’m getting to know my favourite spices. i just love to make my own food.

i’m still reading a lot, i find it super relaxing and it’s a really nice way to pass the time. i’m nurturing a little growing obsession with my diffuser again, and i bought a vast new set of essential oils so i’m playing with the combos to decide which scent i like to linger in the house. right now, my favourites are sweet orange, bergamot & lemongrass together, and ylang ylang with geranium! it’s just pleasant to wake up and plod around the apartment with something to set the day.

tonight, i want to get an early night and then i’m going to spend my time tomorrow at home, reading and listening to soft music until my groceries arrive - then i’m going to make my first stew. i’m really excited about making onion gravy as it’s my favourite, although this time i’ll have to outsource my roast potatoes which i don’t love, because i like to make stuff entirely from scratch - but i’m okay with it, because soon i’ll be in my new apartment with a much bigger kitchen and a cooker, nesting, and my recipes will just be boundless then! the cooker will be one of my first purchases, and then i’ll make my stew with the same love put into my hand cut potatoes as the rest.

#personal #annasequilibrium #ptsd journey #actuallyptsd #cpunk #spoonie

[not-close-to-straight]

Lord of Thorns (Two)

Harry as Gaston is like... the worst.

MASTERLIST HERE

*************************

Peter hummed a soft tune as he made his way into the village, heading right for the bookstore out of the way on a side street.

He had finished another book, this time in less than a week and the urge to read more had him nearly running down the streets. Dodging around housewives with their packages, children running and playing, and weaving in and around a few merchants and their carts, Peter finally slipped down an alleyway and into the shop.

“Ah Peter!” Mister Lee, the foreign man from a land no one had ever heard of, lit up with a big smile when Peter opened his door with a shy grin. “Always good to see you, boy, what brings you by?”

“Good morning, Mister Lee.” Peter handed him the book carefully. “I finished this one and...and do you think I could borrow another? If it's not too much trouble?”

“I think--” the small man tapped his chin thoughtfully, kindly. “I think you have read all of them, Peter.”

“Well then, I should attempt to read them all again.” Peter's skin flushed a little in excitement, staring up at the bookshelf filled to bursting with novels.

“What should it be this time? Knights fighting for far off lands? A tale of genies and sorcerers?” his slim fingers rested on a thin novel, the cover warn nearly bare from so many readings, the words so familiar Peter thought he might be able to quote it.

“Poetry, perhaps?” his already soft voice dropped even further, his eyes darkening wistfully.

“That one is your favorite?” Peter nodded a little sheepishly and Mister Lee pulled the novel from the bookshelf, pressing it into Peter's hands. “Then keep it. It's yours.”

“Are you...are you sure?” Peter's brown eyes looked suspiciously close to overflowing and the shop keep patted his shoulder gently.

“Of course I am. You have read it more times than I have, anyway. Now go. I'm sure you have other errands to run and your Aunt will be waiting.”

“Thank you!” Peter backed out of the shop, clutching the book to his chest. “Thank you so much! Thank you, thank you!”

He headed back out, nearly running to get home so he could hurry through his chores and sit down to read.

“Peter! Hello!” Alec and Roberto, the town bakers, leaned out their window to wave at him as he passed. “Where are you off to in such a hurry!”

“Peter I have just made the sweetest bread, come have some!” Alec encouraged in his thick Italian accent and Roberto nodded eagerly. “Sweetest you have ever tried! Come stay a moment?”

“Good morning!” Peter grinned at them and slipped up the few stairs into the pastry shop. “I don't have a lot of time, but I'm never going to say no to your sweetbread, Alec.”

“You have another book, Peter?” Roberto asked. “I thought you had a new one just last week!”

Peter nodded, eyes sparkling. “I did have a new one last week, but Mr. Lee gave me this one.” he touched the red cover reverently. “It's poetry. I've never even owned a book before and this one is so beautiful! I love the poems about nature and oh some of the love poems are perfect !”

The bakers shared a fond glance over the boys happiness.

They loved Peter, with his enthusiasm for learning and the way his words tumbled from his mouth almost faster than he could think.

They had known him since May and Ben had taken the boy in all those years ago, and even though his visits to their sweet shop were getting fewer and fewer as he got older, they were still something the bakers treasured.

“Ah, poetry.” Alec sighed dramatically and put a plate down in front of the boy. “Truly the way to a man’s heart, eh? I was reading poetry when Roberto fell for me. I'm telling you it works.”

“To be fair,” the other man argued, “you were also shirtless, my love. That was why I came to talk to you. Not because of the poetry.”

He waggled his eyebrows in Peter's direction. “Alec was lying shirtless on the beach as the sun was setting and the waves were playing at his feet. No poetry needed was needed to lure me in.”

“He lies.” Alec assured him, and kissed his husband on the lips. “He came and sat by my and I read him poetry for hours. Now, who are you set to woo with such finely written things?”

“No one.” Peter tried to speak around a mouthful of the sweetest, lightest bread he had ever tried, filled to bursting with sweet fruit and some sort of cream. “This is amazing Alec! Would you write down some of your recipes for me to keep? Aunt May has been teaching me to cook but I think I'd rather live off this instead of soups and stews.”

“Careful, Peter, you do not want to grow fat on sweets.” Alec warned good naturedly. “What do they say? A moment on the lips, forever on the hips!”

“Hush, let the boy eat.” Roberto scolded. “He looks as if a strong gust of wind would take him across the valley. Now.” He turned his attention back to Peter. “You do not have those pretty brown eyes on anyone? No one at all?”

Alec handed him a tall glass of fresh milk. “But you are so lovely Peter, surely there are plenty knocking down your door to marry? The red headed girl, Mary Jane, perhaps? You two have been friends for years. Or Tobey? He is quiet, but sweet, you two would make a good pair.

“Mary Jane loves Harry.” Peter shrugged his shoulders. “Always has. And Tobey isn't really… not really who I am looking for.”

“But Harry loves you.” Alec interrupted with a twinkle in his blue eyes. “The son of the Baron would be a wise choice for a husband, don't you think?”

Roberto mumbled something in Italian and Alec shook his head. “No, Roberto is right I suppose. Harry has changed from the boy we used to know, hasn't he?”

“I'm not interested in Harry.” Peter swallowed the last bite of bread and licked his fingers, trying to hide the shudder that rolled down his spine at the thought of Harry . “Or in Mary Jane, for that matter. I don't think I will ever find someone to make me--” he looked down at his flowerless arms. “To make me bloom.”

Alec placed his hand over his heart. “No, piccolo , do not say that you will not find love. What a tragedy for one so young to be so disillusioned!”

“Well, I won't find love here, at least.” Peter didn't raised his eyes, tracing over the worn bakers table with the tips of his fingers. “I've lived in this village my whole life, and I don't even have a single bloom on my skin. Not a single moment happy enough to make a mark. I am obviously meant for someplace else”.

“Bah.” Roberto rolled his eyes. “Just because you have not had  moment for the flowers to bloom does not mean they won't. Some people just need--” he gestured vaguely. “ time . I did not have a bloom appear until I was nearly a man. But then once one appeared--” he spread his arms to show off the multitude of flowers covering him from wrists to shoulders, disappearing below the collar of his shirt. “Just time, Peter, time and the right moment is all it will take.”

Peter still looked sad, rubbing his hands self consciously over his blank skin. “Sometimes I think about leaving.” he confessed. “There has to be more than this, out there, right? You both are from far away, Mister Lee is from someplace across the water and mountains, and I--I have never even made it farther than the next village. There has to be more than this out there, for me.”

“Ah, cuoro mio , you make my heart sad, so sad to hear you speak of leaving.” Alec wrapped a big arm around Peter's slender shoulders. “You will find the one who makes flowers bloom across your heart. One day, you will. I promise. And when you do, I will make you the grandest cake this country has ever seen to celebrate your wedding!”

Peter finally laughed a little, leaning into the hug, and Roberto wrapped up another large portion of the sweet bread. “For you, Peter, and your sweet Aunt.”

“Thank you.” He hugged Roberto as well, and stepped back out into the sunshine, book and bread held carefully.

“So pretty, he is.” Alec said with a sigh. “And smart. I do not understand why he has not found his match yet.”

“Perhaps he is right.” Roberto said with a shrug. “Perhaps this little town is not meant for him and he needs to find his match somewhere else. I had to travel to find you, husband. And it was worth it.”

“You are nothing but a big softy.” Alec teased, tracing the lily on Roberto’s palm that matched the lily over his own heart. “But you are right. I was certainly worth traveling for.”

***************

“Pete!”

Crossing the field that led to their property, Peter stopped and turned when he heard his name called, the smile falling from his face when he saw who was trying to get his attention.

“Harry.” he raised a hand in greeting, trying to smile again even though he didn't want to.

His last several interactions with his old friend had been awkward and Peter wasn't entirely sure what to think of Harry's new behavior.

The son of the local Baron, a family that had ruled their little valley for generations, Harry had forsaken the higher education that other Royals received, choosing to do his studying at home so he could stay in the village.

He and Peter had been friends since they were children, and while their friendships had always been intimate-- hugs and sitting close, laughing over secret, shared jokes, confiding their deepest secrets-- it had never strayed into anything romantic, and Peter had been very content with it all.

But last year, Harry had turned twenty-one, old enough to marry, old enough to start taking over some of his fathers holdings in the valley, and the way he treated Peter had changed.

Every easy smile between them turned into something flirtation, the casual touches lingering until it was more of a caress. Jokes turned into double entendre's and come ons, and even their conversations started revolving around the future, around a life they would have together.

That change had been odd enough, but it became worse when Harry started becoming jealous when other people spent time with Peter, angry when Peter would turn down an afternoon with him to do something else.

A comforting hand at Peter's back became a push to go the way Harry wanted, random trinkets and small gifts came at the price of doing what Harry wanted.

Somehow their easy friendship had become something of an obsession for Harry, and it made Peter uncomfortable for a reason he couldn't quite name, but he knew he didn't like.

But he had always had a hard time speaking up, a hard time saying no to his oldest friend, so he hadn't ever said no to Harry, had only tried to smile and go along with Harry's plans, and today was no different.

Peter gritted his teeth against the impulse to run away, and stopped halfway through the field, waiting for Harry to pull up alongside him.

“I heard you were in town.” Harry slowed his huge gelding  to a stop and leapt down. “Why didn't you stop by and see me, we could have had lunch together.” he reached out to pull Peter into a long hug, hands dropping low on his back and squeezing gently, urging Peter closer against him.

“I was only visiting the bookshop and getting some bread.” Peter answered, clearing his throat uncomfortably as he tried to step away without seeming rude. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Looking for you.” Harry’s  lips curled up in a teasing, one sided smile. “I was hoping to catch you before you got home and walk with you.”

He didn't even try to hide his open perusal of Peter's body, and Peter was glad his linen shirt and brown pants were loose on his slim frame today.

Just last month they had gone swimming together, and as Peter had undressed, stepping out of his pants, Harry had moved up behind him, circling Peter's small waist with his arm.

“Peter.” he had whispered. “From the back you look just like a woman. You should grow your hair long like you used to, I always liked that.” Then his hand had started to slip lower on Peter's waist, down to the curve of his ass, only stopping because the other boys were coming over the hill to join them.

Peter had thrown up twice after that, then told himself for days that it hadn't happened like he thought, that Harry had only been teasing, that he was ridiculous for feeling so uncomfortable with someone he had known his entire life.

And yet, he had started wearing his clothes loose anyway, thinking that if he faded into the background, maybe Harry wouldn't stare so much.

It hadn't helped.

“So, can I walk with you?” Harry was asking, tilting his head and smiling, a charming, heated look that usually had the women, and some of the men, scrambling to do whatever he wanted.

“Sure.” Peter nodded, trying to will the nausea away.

He needed to get over this. Surely Harry wasn't as bad as Peter thought he was. Surely it wasn't… it couldn't be what Peter thought. He and Harry were friends.

They were friends.

Harry didn't mean to be like that. Surely he didn't.

“What kind of book did you get this time?” Harry asked, looping the reins around his hand so the horse would follow and they set out together. “Did you take it to the children's home to read?”

Peter smiled a little, surprised that Harry even remembered that he did that.

“No, I'll be spending tomorrow at the orphanage reading to the children. This one is um, poetry.” Peter send the future Baron a cautious look. “It's mine. Mister Lee gave it to me.”  

Harry had never been one to put any value on reading when they were younger, grabbing and hiding Peter's books when they had still been in school, and making fun of him for caring so much as they had gotten older.

He had only completed enough of his studies to make sure he would know how to run their little part of the valley, and then Harry hadn't touched a book again.

Peter knew Harry didn't understand the appeal of reading, and even now Harry was laughing at him, shaking his head.

“Poetry.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Peter what are you doing with poetry ? You talk so much anyway, are you going to start quoting us things we can't even understand now? Why do you need poetry?”

“Maybe to learn a little about love? And I don't talk all the time. ” Peter retorted defensively, and Harry put an arm around his shoulders, tugging him closer, seeming not to notice how Peter stiffened.

“I suppose you have gotten better about talking. God, remember how you used to ramble on about absolutely nothing all the time? We used to just laugh at you for it. There is something to said for silence, Pete.” His arm tightened a little. “Besides, I can teach you all you need to know about love. You don't need poetry for that.

Once we are married, I will teach you things you won't ever learn in your books.”

He was grinning, winking as if there was a joke that Peter should be laughing over, or a secret that Peter should know, but all he could think was married?

“Harry.” Peter leaned away, his eyes confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I've told my father that we plan to marry.” Harry shrugged as if Peter shouldn't be surprised. “You are my oldest friend, Pete, it makes perfect sense for us to wed. Why would I wed a stranger?”

He paused under the giant apple tree at the edge of the yard, grasping Peter's wrist and pulling him to a stop.

“Just think about it, Pete.” he leaned in closer, dropping the reins of the horse to cup Peter's jaw. “We’ve known each other our whole lives. We know everything about each other. I'm set to inherit everything from my father, you wouldn't want for anything in the world. I would give it all to you, and you would give me--”

Harry ran his fingers down Peter's arm. “You are so beautiful, Pete. People talk about you, how odd you are since you don't have any flowers, but I love it. I can't wait to put your first bloom on your skin. Your pale, perfect skin.”

Peter flinched away from yet another reminder of how strange it was that he didn't have a single flower anywhere on his body.

Harry was covered in flowers and vines, his life lived with laughter and parties and beautiful people always willing to spend a night with him. He had received his first bloom at the age of fourteen, and now his arms and chest were almost covered completely.

Peter looked empty next to him.

Empty.

God, he hated it.

“We are a perfect match, you and I.” Harry continued with a wink. “You’re like a blank canvas, and I have so much to show you. The entire world will be jealous of the colors I bring to your flowers, Peter.”

“A blank canvas.” Peter repeated, and tugged his shirt sleeves down a little farther. “Harry that's not really a compliment.”

“Hey, it's fine.” Harry tipped Peter's chin up. “I don't care that you’ve never been with anyone, I don't care that you are so innocent, that you spend your days reading. Because you are beautiful , and I want you. You’ll be twenty in a few weeks and we can get married then, for your birthday. It would be a perfect present for both of us. Just say yes.” Harry leaned even closer, his eyes somehow looking hard even though he was still smiling. “Just say yes to me.”

“Harry--” Peter tried again. “What about Mary Jane? She loves you. Has always loved you.”

“I don't care about that. I don't care about her.” Harry placed a hand low on Peter's hip, pressing him back into the tree, and Peter wanted to scream. Harry was only a couple inches taller, but outweighed him by quite a bit of muscle and Peter hated feeling so helpless.

“All I want is you, Pete.” Harry dropped his head like he was going to kiss him, and Peter closed his eyes, wishing he was anywhere but here, wishing he wasn't so disgusted by his once- best friend, wishing something would happen to stop--

“Peter!” Aunt May’s voice carried across the distance to the house. “Peter is that you, there? Come home, I need some help with these mixes!”

“I've got to go.” Peter nearly yelled, pushing Harry away as hard as he could. “I've got to go, let me go.”

“Think about it, Pete.” Harry called as Peter took off towards the house. “We're perfect for each other! You'll see!”

*****************

“Was that Harry?” May asked with a concerned look when Peter walked through the door and dropped the bread on the table with a huff. “Are you two alright? I feel like you haven't been as happy to see him lately.”

“It's nothing.” Peter shook his head. “Everything's fine, Aunt May. He just missed me in town and wanted to talk for a few minutes.”

“Alright then.” May watched him for another second, well aware that there was something her nephew wasn't telling her. “Well, will you help me with these? I have so much to get bagged and labeled before leaving for the market.”

Aunt May, still lovely and spry well into her fifth decade, made mixes and poultices every year to sell at the big market a few towns over. Gathering herbs and flowers and spices, she would carefully measure them out into packages, with clear instructions on how much water to mix in, or which fresh ingredients needed to be added, to create lovely scented lotions, pain numbing poultices, or skin creams.

People loved them, coming to her from all over the valley with specific requests, eager for the chance to make up their own lotions or creams as they needed instead of having to pay the extra coin to buy them from the traveling merchants. Even local physicians came to Aunt May for the small packages that were specifically for pain relief for their patients.

“Will you start filling these?” She motioned to a big pot, and the dozens of small bags in front of it. “It's an antiseptic cream with a bit of a numbing agent, and it was so popular last year I made an extra batch and now I'm behind.”

“Of course, Aunt May.” Peter rolled his loose sleeves up and tied an apron on, content to sit in the warm kitchen and work with his aunt.

“Have you decided what to do for your birthday, Peter?” She asked absentmindedly, sometime later. “Twenty is an important one. You know, I was only seventeen when your Uncle Ben saw me for the first time, but he was turning twenty the very next day. He fell in love with me at first sight, he always swore that the iris bloom on his palm appeared before he even spoke to me, and he knew I was meant for him.” May touched her heart, where her own iris bloom lay.

Peter smiled as he worked, listening to the familiar story. He had heard the tale so many times he had it memorized, but he never interrupted, never stopped May from telling it again. After losing Uncle Ben in a hunting accident several years before, Peter wanted to hear the story as much as May wanted to hear it, because it made the hole in their hearts hurt just a little less.

“--that's why we should have a party. Invite the town. I'm sure Harry would be happy to have it at his manor--”

Peter definitely heard that sentence and couldn't help his shudder, couldn't help the way his hands clenched against the table.

How was he supposed to tell his Aunt that he felt threatened by his friend? That when Harry put his hands on him it made him physically sick? That it made him crazy to be manhandled just because he was skinny, to be leered after every time he bent over or stretched.

Sometimes Peter wished he was a woman, just so he could scream assault and someone else would keep Harry the fuck away from him, but no one would take such a claim from a man seriously, and how could he even think of something like that, when Harry had been his friend for so long?

Marriage.

The conversation from earlier floated through Peter's mind, how offhandedly Harry had told him that they would wed, the hard look in the light eyes when he had pinned Peter to the tree, the possessive press of the big hand at his hip.

Marriage.

Peter would rather die than be married to whoever Harry had turned in to.

“Excuse me please.” he whispered and went outside so he wouldn't be sick in front of his Aunt.

**************

Looking up from his book of poetry that night, Peter stared out the window into the dark, watching the stars come out one by one.

“There’s got to be more to life than this.” he half whispered, half begged to the night sky. “Please tell me there’s more out there for me.”

But no answer came from the stars, just a cold wind that made him shiver and close the window, and Peter fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming of life with Harry-- and a life with no flowers upon his skin.

#ncts fics #spideypool #beauty and the beast #peter parker #wade wilson

[tipsycad147]

All About Calendula | The Many Incredible Health Benefits & More

Written by Sass Ayres

Calendula brings such sunshine to this planet! This joyful little plant packs a gentle, but mighty punch of healing and immune-stimulating properties that have earned calendula quite a reputation as a favorite first aid topical and skincare ingredient. The many health benefits of calendula make this a plant you’ll definitely want more of in your every day.

HERE YOU’LL FIND: Meet Calendula Culinary Uses of Calendula Health Benefits of Calendula Calendula FAQs Resources & Further Reading

Meet Calendula

With summer comes all the summer blooms like the calendula, elderflower, and daylily. Just like the sun, they all burst forth into the world, bringing with them their food and medicine to share. If you haven’t met calendula yet, it’s high time, don’t you think?!

Meet Calendula officinalis. Here’s the skinny:

Calendula is native to the northern regions of the Mediterranean, and like many plants, has now traveled around much of the world.

Being a proud member of the Asteraceae (or sunflower) family, calendula has the distinct aster flower head consisting of slender petals, which are actually entire flowers in themselves, arranged like the rays of the sun around a center.

Calendula grows to about 1 to 2 feet in height and has a reputation for being relatively easy to cultivate. It thrives in just about any soil, but prefers a happy medium when it comes to wet and dry.

It’s an annual plant, but can be a short-lived perennial in warmer climates.

Calendula flowers come in an array of sunset colored flowers, but the vibrant orange and yellow ones are most often used for medicine

Its name comes from the Latin word kalendae, meaning the first day of the month. This refers to its long growing season and its ability to bloom through the calendar year in some locations.

The secret to prolonging its bloom is to pick the flowers every couple days. The more you pick, the more they grow. She’s is a tenacious and determined beauty, and even self-seeds prolifically.

Often called marigold, pot marigold, or even common marigold, calendula is actually a completely different genus of plants than the marigold commonly used as a garden ornamental. Marigolds in the Targetes genus are not interchangeable nutritionally or medicinally with the Calendula genus.

The Culinary Uses of Calendula

Edible flowers are an absolutely wonderful addition to so many foods. Calendula flowers add such a cheery pop of sunshine to any meal. Plus, you can’t help but feel like gosh darn earth goddess royalty when nibbling on edible flowers. They’re truly the food of the blessed.

When using in food, you can either use the whole flower head, green parts and all, or just the petals. The whole flower head is great for making teas and infusing all the medicinal benefits of calendula into your homemade medicinal veggie broths, soups, and more. But while edible and highly medicinal, the sticky green base isn’t the most pleasant part to eat.

However, the plucked petals are incredibly pleasant to eat! Simply pluck them from their sticky green base and add to cakes, cheesecakes, quiches, salads, salsas, fruit salads, herbal butter, and so much more.

My favorite spring and summer meals are often those that are full of edible flowers and other wild foraged foods. When adding calendula petals to your foods, you can use them either fresh or dried.

The Health Benefits of Calendula

Many of the medicinal compounds that make calendula such an equally gentle and powerful medicine are actually located in the resinous green parts of the flower head. When using calendula as a medicine, as in oils, creams, tinctures, or soups, be sure to use the entire flower head, green parts included.

Here are some of the most common and well-researched medicinal uses of calendula:

Calendula & Wound Healing

As a gentle, but incredibly powerful antiseptic, calendula shines as a topical treatment in wound healing. It’s often made into creams, ointment, nourishing body oils, or compresses to help disinfect, decrease inflammation, and promote tissue healing to reduce potential scarring.

Calendula & The Digestive System

The demulcent properties of calendula are very protective of the mucosal lining of the entire digestive system. A calendula gargle can be used to ease a sore throat and drinking the tea can help ease discomfort caused by ulcers, IBS, or heartburn. It helps to maintain the health and integrity of your gut wall, and a healthy gut wall allows for much easier and more efficient nutrient absorption.

Calendula & Immune Health

Calendula is highly antimicrobial and has been shown by many a study to help fight off infection. Plus, its high antioxidant content helps to strengthen the immune system. Adding the whole flowers to soups and stews when you’re feeling a cold come on can help ward off the oncoming ick.

Calendula is also known to stimulate the lymphatic system, helping to rid the body of toxins and metabolic waste, and to transport infection-fighting white blood cells throughout the body. It’s a great herb to support daily detox!

Calendula & Skin Care

Lotions and creams made with calendula are incredibly effective in nourishing and hydrating skin. Accordingly, you’ll find calendula in many products intended for eczema, dermatitis, or dandruff. It’s also so gentle, safe, and effective in this area that it’s wildly popular for use with children in treating inflammatory skin troubles such as diaper rash and cradle cap. Used topically, calendula has absolutely no toxicity and makes a great addition to a hot bath!

These three uses: as a wound medicine, a remedy for affections of the lymphatic glands, and a general “immune tonic” as we would call it today are interlocking and bring out the true genius of [calendula].

Mathew Wood from the Book of Herbal Wisdom –

Calendula FAQs

Are all calendula medicinal?

Over the years, I’ve heard many an opinion on whether or not all the different colors of calendula flowers are medicinal. If you’re wondering the same, the most common recommendation from practicing herbalists is to let your senses be the judge. The brighter and more aromatic the flowers and the stickier their green bases and leaves, the higher their medicine content.

What are the health benefits of calendula tea?

I’m glad you asked! Calendula tea is a sweet and subtle flavored tea with an ever-so-slight (and yet surprising) spice and bitterness. It’s an herbal tea that pairs so well with a little drizzle of honey. And the health benefits of calendula tea are the same as those listed above!

Calendula tea is high in antioxidants, helps to ease digestion, is a powerful immune-booster, and so much more!

Where is the best place to buy calendula?

The first best place is to always grow your own herbs, but I know that we don’t all have the time or luxury. Thankfully, there are people that do! If you can find calendula from you local herbalists, this would be the next best place.

Many natural food co-ops have bulk sections that sometimes will have medicinal herbs. And when all else fails, there are several online herb retailers. My go-to for all my medicinal herbs has been Mountain Rose Herbs for many years. Their herbs are incredibly and consistently high-quality and there’s always a huge focus on the ethics around sustainable harvesting and growing practices.

Mountain Rose Herbs offers many calendula products to meet all your medicine making, herbal wellness, & kitchen herbalism needs.

Try These Recipes With Calendula

No-Bake Calendula & Honey Cheesecake Fresh-Squeezed Calendula Lemonade Super Medicinal Veggie Broth Ultra-Nourishing Herbal Body Oil

Resources & Further Reading

Blankespoor, J. (2012, November 15). Calendula’s herbal and edible uses: how to grow, gather, and prepare calendula as food and medicine. Chestnut School of Herbal Medicine. https://chestnutherbs.com/calendula-sunshine-incarnate-an-edible-and-medicinal-flower/

McBride, Kami. (2019). The herbal kitchen: Bring lasting health to you and your family with 50 easy-to-find common herbs and over 250 recipes. Red Wheel/Weiser.

Nelofer, J. and Riffat, J. (2017). Calendula officinalis: an important medicinal plant with potential biological properties. Proceedings of the Indian National Science Academy, 83(4): 769-787. Accessed July 1, 2020. https://insa.nic.in/writereaddata/UpLoadedFiles/PINSA/2017_Art48.pdf

Wood, M. (1997). The book of herbal wisdom: Using plants as medicine. North Atlantic Books.

Sass Ayres

Sass is a blogger at Botany Culture & a botanical baker at Botany Bakeshop. She's a can't-stop-won't-stop sharer of everyday plant food, medicine, & magic with a masters degree in nutrition & over a decade of herbalism studies. Her favorite plant is cacao. Her greatest regret is that she's not a viticulturist. Maybe in the next life.

https://www.botanyculture.com/meet-the-plants-the-food-and-medicine-of-calendula/

[destiny-islanders]

FFXV x KH Headcanons That I Have But Probably Won’t Doodle Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You know how sometimes in FFXV when you’re out in the woods next to animals that won’t attack you, you end up hitting one by accident while you’re fending off MTs?

SORA DOES THIS AND IT RUINS HIS LIFE

HE HITS AN ANAK. 

NOT JUST AN ANAK

AN ANAK CALF

He uses a Megalixir on it… Gladio is ready to End Him for wasting that on a stupid-looking giraffe cow!!!!

(Ignis: “Prompto, Noctis, go distract Sora while I take some of the mother’s meat to cook for dinner. I’ve come up with a new recipe, and the secret ingredient is ATTEMPTED INFANTICIDE.”)

While we’re talking about Sora and killing things– he doesn’t like to kill bugs. That puts him at odds with Noct and Prom on multiple occasions. Those two are the embodiment of those Internet memes depicting people burning their houses down to kill a single crazy-looking insect. Meanwhile Sora is over there feeling guilty about accidentally stepping on a snail

A talking cricket capable of reading and writing lived in Sora’s hoodie for like two years okay HE HAS A SOFT SPOT

Yes Sora is that guy to catch a spider and let it outside

Yes Gladio has killed bugs that Sora wanted to save while he scrambled around trying to find a paper towel… because yeah. He doesn’t want to touch that creepy crawly with his bare hands, even if his motives are Pure

“BORIS THE SPIDER! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Sora is able to see Gentiana and Carbuncle without the use of a camera

Cue the bros using Sora’s Actual Sixth Sense to their advantage by having him guide them to make silly poses with the invisible deities

Noctis can’t believe Gentiana plays along. What a good sport.

Sora checking his phone during one of Carbuncle’s visits and beginning to giggle uncontrollably

THIS LITTLE FLUFF BALL HAS THE DIRT ON EMBARRASSING CHILD NOCT STORIES

Noct: “How tf did he get your number”

Since Sora is a couple of years younger than everyone else (I headcanon him as 17/18 when he first comes to Eos), Ignis and Gladio are Very Protective of him

Honestly it’s like Sora has four big brothers

Gladio is floored by the fact that Sora is more or less a self-taught swordsman

He still helps train Sora because technique is important

He swells up with So Much Pride when he catches Sora using a move he’d taught him during training on an MT

Gladio is so excited to take Sora to try his first meal of Cup Noodles

Sora ends up being a bit of a purist; he doesn’t like meat or veggies– just ramen and broth.

Ignis is baffled by nearly everything Sora does and how nonchalantly he does it

This kid can jump nine feet in the air and even executes a fussy little flip when he does it wtf

Oh, well. At least Sora can pick those fruit over there by jumping and reaching so no one has to climb the tree and risk a broken neck

(Noctis: “I didn’t break my neck, Specs– I sprained my wrist!!”

Ignis: “Which wouldn’t have happened if you’d been more careful.”)

Sora is dared (hmm by whom?? I wonder…….) to prank Ignis by putting a rogue ingredient into the stew one night.

He and his cohorts (you know who they are) watch Ignis do a taste-test nonchalantly 

Who am I kidding they are totally obvious as they try to stop themselves from laughing

Dunno why you’re laughing, though, boys– that’s your dinner you’re sabotaging

Ignis is obviously disgusted by what he tastes. He stands there for a moment… and then he fumbles around in his pack for new ingredients

You bet your ass Ignis salvages the stew. In fact, it actually tastes better than before?? “I’ve come up with a new recipe, and the secret ingredient is ATTEMPTED SABOTAGE.”

Don’t ask Sora what the rogue ingredient was, Ignis. He’s not from around here and wouldn’t really know a Lieden pepper from a Duscaean potato

Prompto caves and tells him

The next day… how strange… it seems that Ignis only made enough dinner for himself and Gladio to enjoy… looks like it’s time for Toast for the Culinary Saboteurs

Ignis drags it out for a bit before giving the boys their share.

Noctis reminds Sora of Riku a lot.

Yes, by that I mean he tries to have a cool exterior but is actually a Giant Goober

Noct fishing while sitting at the end of the pier with Sora, long after the other bros have lost interest and wandered elsewhere

Long talks about friends and hopes for the future

Noctis feeling a little guilty because Sora seems so… comfortable with the burden of protecting not just one world, but a whole bunch.

Meanwhile, Noctis is reluctant to accept a king’s responsibility. He never asked for this. He just wants to be… normal.

Sora eventually admitting to having doubts about why the Keyblade stayed with him, and quietly wishing for the day to come that the worlds won’t need a single Keyblade master.

Turns out the two of them have more in common than Noct first thought.

Noctis trying to reel in the DEMON FISH from the VR game and Sora is in such a panic and so desperate to help that he PUNCHES THE MONSTER FISH IN THE FACE and BREAKS EVERY KNUCKLE IN HIS RIGHT HAND

Prompto and Sora are BEST FRIENDS and honestly IT HAPPENS SO FAST

Prom gives Sora some photography lessons and lets him loose in Galdin Quay

He ends up with a memory card full of cat photos of various angles and degrees of blurriness

Somehow a local reporter overhears Sora talking with Prompto about his intention to take a photo with every single Kenny Crow statue in Lucis and ends up having a little article published about him. Just seems like one of those slice-of-life stories that the media would eat up

They use one of Prompto’s photos of Sora and Kenny for the newspaper!!! It’s on like the 85th page nestled into a corner, but he’s!!! Officially!! A published photographer!!!

In the long night, there are several instances that find Prom and Sora on a hunt near a Crow’s Nest they never had a chance to visit during their road trip. Taking a photo is a matter of obligation at this point

Prompto scrolling through the Caw, Kids! It’s Sora Crow! folder and tearing up as he starts from the first photo and scrolls forward. By year seven of the long night, Sora’s smile as he stands under Kenny’s wing doesn’t reach his eyes

Starscourge!Sora headcanons that aren’t completely miserable??? Look at them, hanging out above the angst cut????

It eventually gets to the point that Sora’s left eye glows in the dark like a nightlight

Prompto finds himself using the glow of Sora’s fuckin’ daemon eye to try and read the map after his flashlight’s battery dies

omfg

It’s just so absurd that the two of them burst out laughing

It’s the first time either of them had laughed in a while. It felt… nice…

Gladio pressing a hand over Sora’s eye when they’re trying to sneak up on a daemon because it will give them away

Prompto’s response is to give Sora an eyepatch he swiped from the clinic for their next hunt

Sora: “I always wanted to be a pirate as a kid. Who says dreams don’t come true, even in this horrific post-apocalyptic hellscape”

Also Sora: “Srsly Gladio I can see better in the dark with this eye maybe don’t”

Head into the misery dojo if you dare under the cut

Uh-oh. It is.

Pls don’t think about Sora desperately trying to break into the Crystal after he discovers that it’s dragged Noctis inside of it.

The Keyblade’s strength depends on the heart of its wielder. He should be able to cut through this! He can cut through anything!!!!

It takes a very long time before Sora or any of the Chocobros leave that chamber. 

Yes they stay there for days hoping beyond hope that Noct will come out

During the long night, Sora becomes a daemon hunter and a team leader for a group of search and rescue teams

His first retrieval mission ends… badly. The people who’d sent the distress signal were long gone by the time Sora and his team got there

One of the kids was in mid-transformation after being afflicted with the Starscourge…

Sora can’t land the fatal blow. He goes outside and throws up while Dave finishes the job

Search and rescue missions are a source of extreme anxiety for Sora after that… but he has to try and save as many people as he can

Sora tries not to think about Riku, Kairi, or any of his friends beyond Eos. It hurts too much. He tries to put his Wayfinder in a shoebox in his apartment to avoid its constant reminder of what he’s lost… but he just can’t bring himself to part with it

He wishes he did when he takes a nasty spill into a ravine during a solo mission two years into the long night. Smashes his Wayfinder into pieces.

He’s too injured to climb out of the ravine, too. He gives up after a couple of attempts and just gathers up the pieces of the good luck charm that he can. He just lay there in a heap and watches the stars

Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio hear about Sora’s disappearance and team up for the first time in almost a year to find him

They make it in time. Lots of potions and a piggyback ride to safety courtesy of Gladio see our dorkupine boy right

Prompto notices Sora throw something in the trash before leaving the clinic and finds the Wayfinder pieces. He knows what the charm represents and how devastated Sora must be that it’s been irreparably destroyed.

He gathers up the pieces, puts them in a pouch, and leaves it on the table in the kitchen of Sora’s tiny apartment. He leaves a note, too: I know they haven’t given up on you. So don’t give up on them.

A few days later, Sora gives Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio each a piece of the charm. So that all of us will find each other, in the end

Noctis takes a piece of the charm with him to the throne

#final fantasy xv #kingdom hearts #ffxv x kh #sora #noctis #prompto #ignis #gladio #ff #ffxv #destiny headcanons #text #headcanons #long post #starscourge sora

[gobigorgohome2016]

Can You Have Too Much Fire?

In high school I had this awesome shirt that was meant to represent your zodiac element.  The shirt was red, spelled out “fire,” and listed all the traits of a fire sign:  passionate, larger than life personality, enthusiastic, quick temper, over achiever, direct, stubborn, attention seeking, etc.  For 16 year old me, IT WAS LIKE SOMEONE PUT MY ENTIRE LIFE ON A T-SHIRT. Mind blown.  

My favorite quote as a high school runner was, “if the fire is hot enough, it will burn anything.”  Later, I became really annoyed when I heard this quote used more often to describe metabolism, but to me, it meant that if you want something badly enough, you can make it happen on sheer willpower alone. [as a Speedway resident, I can no longer say willpower without thinking about the IndyCar driver, Will Power.  Sigh.]

As I’ve figured out since high school, my best trait is also, by far, my worst.  If there is anything I have learned these past couple weeks of 2018 is that if I was lacking fire in the fall, I have more than made up for that deficit now.  

When I sat down in December to look at the year ahead, there were some changes that I wanted to make. I love New Year’s resolutions.  I also love rules (ironic, yes?).  I’ve always been jealous of people who stick to things that make the planning side of their lives easier.  My friend does “Meatball Monday,” “Wok Wednesday,” “Soup Sunday,” etc.  How fun is that?  So, my resolutions have been thinly veiled by similar rules:

Makeup Monday (don’t let makeup go to waste, so use an item in my makeup drawer that gets the least amount of love)

Timer Tuesday: Instant Pot day.  The Instant Pot is an amazing  - yet slightly intimidating – machine.  Every Tuesday I make a different recipe from the cookbook that was included with the IP so that I can better learn how to use it.

Wakeup Wednesday:  I run with a friend on Wednesday mornings which means I get up at 5:30 AM.  We haven’t run together in FOREVER ( ☹ ) but I really like the routine so I wake up at 5:30 or 6:00 on Wednesdays, get my run out of the way, and then nap.  

Tulsi Thursday:  Tulsi tea is great for recovery, and I usually do my last hard workout of the week on Thursdays.  Tusli Thursday is just a reminder to be more mindful in my recovery.

Refresh Friday:  I hate being wasteful, especially with food, so on Fridays I use the oldest ingredients in my refrigerator / pantry.

Self-Care Saturday: self-explanatory

Seafood Sunday:  also self-explanatory (and cheating.  Dave and I have done seafood on Sunday for years).

Okay, what does this have to do with fire?  Not much. Other than to point out that I am a rule following fanatic at times.  

My other focus for the new year was running.  I know that I am not fit right now, and I want to do everything in my power to achieve my goals in May.  The number one thing I have been lacking since April is consistency, which hasn’t exactly been in my control.  As I was looking over the upcoming months, I made notes of how many miles I would like hit each week, how that would stack up against previous years, etc.

Fatal Error.

Two and a half weeks ago, I was out for a long run (18 miles, longest in quite a few months) and my hamstring tightened up towards the end, probably due to the ice and snow. Whatever, not a big deal.  Well, it turned out to be a decent-sized deal that left me cross training (so glad I found a trainer recently, and have Netflix again!).  Last week I only ran a total of 22 miles and had to cross train the rest of what was supposed to be a 75 mile week.  

My first instinct was panic. In fact, my coach received a ton of panicky texts from me.  I’m FINALLY getting my mileage back to where I want, and something dumb happens.  My second instinct was anger.  Why is my body failing me???? (It turns out I wasn’t alone.  Rebecca ran 10 of those miles with me and had the exact same hamstring trouble, so I felt better that my body wasn’t simply rejecting running).  

A month or two ago I wrote a post about all the things that people assumed about me when I was taking time off post-anemia, and how they wrong.  No, I wasn’t mad that I couldn’t run.  No, I wasn’t struggling not to run, etc.  Well, all of that bit me in the ass this week.  I was cranky, rage-y, and jealous of everyone out running.  I was crosstraining like crazy (something I rarely do).  I was irrationally mad at every person who posted a PR at the many fast races that happened over the weekend.  I drove myself crazy.

On the one hand, the return of this fire is such a good sign.  I’m ready to compete again.   I have the motivation to once more push my body to its limits before giving it a short reprieve and asking it to heal all the damage sustained during the winter and spring and perform its very best on race day.

But, that fire is a double edged sword.  Fire also menas a return of  my overly competitiveness, and making a conscious effort every day to remind myself to calm the fuck down.  

I was reading an interesting/terrifying article a few months back about psychopathic children. Psychopathic traits are genetic, and part of the reason they have not been removed from the gene pool via natural selection is that they can be good in small doses.  For instance, a surgeon needs to be cold and unfeeling when performing surgery.  Sometimes, however, a kid doesn’t win the genetic lottery and winds up more Jeffrey Dahmer than Doogie Howser (fun fact #37 of this post, my house in Milwaukee was only a couple blocks from where Jeffrey Dahmer committed his crimes).  

I often wonder if my innate fire is half psychopathic.  I forget sometimes that not everyone quits their career path to follow big dreams that have no guaranteed payout and 100% chance of pain, both emotional and physical.  It’s not even a question 48 weeks out of the year whether I want to have another beer or go to bed; whether I want to run every day or procrastinate until the end of eternity; whether or not I will eat my kale; whether or not I will train hard for a goal I want to accomplish years from now.  The fact that I have zero real obligations everyday and still train full time is nothing short of a miracle.  I have never been able to focus on anything the way that I have been able to focus on running.  

So, that usually means I need to come up with creative ways to redirect the flames.  Sometimes that means journaling my frustrations or writing in my blog.  Sometimes it means coming face to face with how out of shape I am and focusing the fire towards making better choices.  Sometimes when I’m trying to take a nap I stew over the things I have not yet accomplished, the things that I thought I would have achieved by now.  In this moment I think to myself, “yes.  There is such thing as too much fire.”  But, then I remind myself (usually in list form) that there are things I can control, and things I cannot.  If there is anything I have learned, it is that perseverance trumps just about everything else in running.  

I’ve already fallen off the consistency measure that I was hoping for in January with my low mileage week last week and cautious build this week.  I’m forcing myself to embrace flexibility, which means I’m becoming well acquainted with my bike in the basement.  My hamstring is feeling good again and I’m feeling a little bit silly that a couple days off had me plotting the changes I would have to make to my racing season.  I’ve relegated myself to the treadmill just to make sure I don’t strain my hammy with the snow and ice that is currently on the ground, just to be safe.  I’m hoping for an outdoor run on Friday.  If anything, the coals have been stoked because let’s be real:  there is nothing like a little setback to remind you just how hot your fire burns.

[kewpiemeayo]

Earth Food [Voltron HC]

Summary: The title seems self-explanatory.

Warning: Some cute but messy shit

Hunk: 

Definitely misses home cooked meals the most. 

Loves food in general and has no discrimination 

But he really missed some of his favourite samoan dishes

He almost replicated suafa’i (banana soup) but the banana looking plant turned his soup green and bitter and gave him the pukes

Never

Again.

So the moment he got his hands on some real bananas (he tested it) he was flying back to the castle to make batches and batches of his favourite soup.

Leftover bananas went to making poi (banana pudding) that he had to hide from Lance because Lance fell in love with it. 

The soup weirded him out because “Hunk, my dude, I love your cooking but banana isn’t supposed to be in soup.” 

And after Hunk gave him the “Then don’t eat my cooking and go sip on some space goop” response, Lance shut up and drank his soup. 

Also cookies.

Hunk really missed actual cookies that wouldn’t turn into teladuv lens substitutes. 

Pidge: 

All though the Italian “memes” that Lance kept making bugged her to no end

She would never let Lance make any about Italian cuisine. 

Her mother made the best zeppolis but her grandpa knew how to cook up the best eggplant risotto 

Matt brought some leftover for Shiro once and he had tears in his eyes at how delicious it was.

Sometimes Pidge would just sit in her room and drool at the thought of her family’s cooking only to curl up and think about how much she missed them

She was in no way a great cook nor was she a terrible one, but she didn’t want to butcher her nonno’s delicious cooking like that so she only ever watched him cook. 

So for her birthday one year, the Hunk and Shiro went to Earth on a mission to get the recipe from Nonno Holt and Mamma Holt and tried their best to make Pidge’s favourite dishes for her birthday. 

Pidge teared up a little bit and gave her constructive criticism but loved the fact her friends went through all that trouble (and the two hours of “yes i’m fine, yes she’s doing great actually, so we’ve been busy saving the universe it’s no biggie” explaining their disappearance and their adventures to the Holt family) just to make her favourite foods. 

Keith:

Okay but Keith lived in a shack in a middle of the desert

His favourite food was probably sand and a few occasional tumbleweeds 

Keith knew how to cook basic meals

But it was a real hassle to take his hunk of metal through the desert and to the nearest town/city for groceries EVERY week, so he would stock up on canned foods and other non-perishables for the majority of his meals.

He hated beans at first but grew to love them over the course of a couple months.

His favourites were Campbell’s Chicken Wild Rice Soup and Chef Boyardee’s Mini Ravioli

Space didn’t really sell canned food

Although the space goo was probably the most nutritious food he’s had since his Garrison days

He still missed his cold ravioli.

Coran knew exactly which space mall would have most of the ingredients for the ravioli and with the help of Pidge’s knowledge on just how thin the dough should be, Hunk cooked up a giant pot ravioli just for Keith. 

Keith cried thanked the three and took the whole pot with him to his room and that’s where he stayed for the next two days, groaning in pain from all that ravioli

Lance: 

His Earth dish was Fricasé de Pollo

A stew made up of chicken, potatoes, onions, peppers and peas.

Lance usually only cooked small meals for his siblings and cousins when he took care of them and everyone loved his stew.

It became his most favourite dish to cook and possibly the only thing he remembered how to cook by heart.

So after meeting Kaltenecker, Lance would search every space mall the team would stumble across to find the one that sold the most ingredients for his stew.

He could only find the vegetables

But one day, a farmer from a planet Voltron just saved, offered the team a variety of sustenance from their farm. 

Lance made do with the chicken-ish looking bird and the spices that Hunk hid. 

The flavour wasn’t on par but the texture and color turned out just fine

The team was in awe with Lance because there is more to him than terrible pick-up lines and his sharpshooting skills. 

The team always tried to remember to pick up similar stew ingredients when they could so Lance could make stew more often. 

Cooking the stew for his space family kept Lance sane and made him feel at home. 

Shiro: 

As a kid, Shiro always went to school with a bento box for lunch (forkin’ fire me)

Shiro missed the way his mom would set up his boxed lunches with cute-faced onigiris and shaped-fruits

But he tried not to dwell to much considering he’s been gone from Earth a lot longer than everyone else on the ship.

However on the days Shiro found himself at his weakest, on the nights he couldn’t sleep, he would think about how his mom used to bring him a bowl of miso soup to lull him to sleep. 

Shiro might have been the oldest paladin but his cooking skills were abysmal. 

He decided to buy a small fish and a white brick thing that the space mall workers were promoting as “healthy and good for cooking” (presumably tofu?) and stole some water kelp Lance had been hiding for his face masks to make his soup. 

Of course it wasn’t exactly miso but the broth turned out alright and Shiro felt accomplished for making himself some soup that reminded him of his mom. 

SHE WOULD BE SO PROUD, DON’T MIND ME IM JUST CRYING

Princess Allura/Coran/Mice:

Whenever this time does come, I can picture the paladins taking Allura and Coran to a fair or carnival and that’s where they will try their first Earth Foods.

Authentic carnival junk food.

churros, mini donuts, pretzels, hot dog, corn dogs, pizza, snow cones and anything from the candy bar.

Allura’s favourite was the caramel apple

Coran’s would be kettle corn AHAHAH KETTLE CORAN 

The mice loved cotton candy

Coran tries to make his own kettle corn back on the chip

He was never allowed to do such a thing ever again.

Pidge taught Allura how to make caramel apple and it turned out a lot harder than it was supposed to be

Mice got sick from all the sugar but they turned out alright.

>> Masterlist

Tagging: @a-fallen-little-pine-cone @cupoftim @vermelian @lbug1025

Complimentary Tag: @doctaaaaaaaar (i thought you might like to read this) 

#voltron #voltron imagines #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #takashi shirogane #princess allura #coran #lance mcclain #voltron headcanons #shiro imagine #keith kogane imagine #hunk garret imagine #lance mcclain imagine #pidge imagine #nova writes #masterlist

[lunatan31-blog]

Week1 Post

Linh Dam, Jan 13, 2020, Day 1/100, Business Creativity and Innovation, Week 1, The 3 Questions in class everyweek 

1. What did you do today that was creative? I can be able to eat lunch although I didn’t bring my chopsticks with me by breaking my sister’s chopsticks in half so we can both use that long pair of chopsticks.

2. What did you do today that was creative that made you money? Some creative ways that I earned money was investing into Cannibis stocks and ETFs. I realized that earlier in the year especially the last quarter of 2019 most Cannbis stocks dipped signnificantly. I saw this as an opportunity to buy more and take advantage of the lower prices. Why I felt this was creative was because I always believed the Marijuana industry to be similar to the alchohol. It was once illegal but now it has become legal we are only in year 1. Look at the big alchohol companies now and how well they are doing. Patience and understanding this pattern will help tremendously. This month since after the new years these stocks have risen and I anticipate 2020 to be a big year for Cannibis. 

3. What three things did you do today that feeds your career? I started reading books about saving and investing into long term vehicles. Why this is important is because we need to know where to park our hard earned cash. I believe investing in stocks is a creative avenue because it allows you to choose the shares that reflect your beliefs and values the most. Its rare to find 2 people to have the exact same portfolio unless they copy one anothers or share intel. That is what I find the most artistic. I began studying the notes I took from the Dale Carnegie seminar. Like they mentioned you can't just use the notes and read them. You must put them into practice to create good habits. So what I noticed was we should start with the easiest things first, then work your way to the hardest. How I creativity practice this is talk to my roomates and friends over the weekend with the intention of asking only about them. My friends think I really care about them, which I do but I stll get the chance to practice which I normally wouldn't because we are all so busy. Last thing that is important and creative is when I buy something I try to save 10 percent of it. I downloaded an App that helps with that. This is a creative way to save money because when we dont think about concious ways to save we don'’ save. Savings is just as important in your career as earning money because your work performance will reflect if we are conciously thinking about something else. Our attention should always be focused on our work for peak perforamnce.

Linh Dam, Jan 14, 2020, Day 2/100, Business Creativity and Innovation, Week 1, Page 2, Topic - Develop

5 years from now I would regret if I switched from Marketing to Culinary Management Program in the very first year that I attended to the first business class in my life. I felt lost in a ton of brand new knowledge and business language even I ran an “underground business” before. I almost gave up. Culinary could be so much easier for me to study since I have studied and worked in this field for so many years back home. However, the passion in entrepreneurship keeps me stay with my Marketing program. It is true that “Playing it safe is a big killer for creativity”. If I didn’t step out of my comfort zone, keep doing what I am good at and familiar with, I will never know that I can actually combine what I am studying and what I know to create a value that I have always seeking for. I have an business idea but however, it is just an idea. It might take sometimes or every some years to figure what it exactly is. I keep reminding myself to create a “flower” from what I am doing everything. One business grows from another business. Following the floral path, I believe I will find my way to what I truly looking for. To me, creativity is not only an exercise but also a guideline. No matter how long it will take, the flowers will bloom, the floral trail will be clearer.

Linh Dam, Jan 15, 2020, Day 3/100, Business Creativity and Innovation, Week 1, The 3 Questions in class everyweek

 1. What did you do today that was creative? I made, Com Suon (Vietnamese barbeque pork chop). It’s creative because I memorized the taste and recreated the dish on my own without following any online recipes. 

2. What did you do today that was creative that made you money? I sold 3 Com Suons today to my boyfriend’s boss and colleagues. They eat out everyday and he brings lunch everyday. I solved a problem his colleagues have, which is the question of what to eat by preparing more food for them. Conveniently the lunch my boyfriend brings to work is also the food that I will be writing about in my food blog. 

3. What three things did you do today that feeds your career? - I had an idea to cook beautiful food, to build up my reputation in the food industry - I successfully calmed my business partner down by asking probing questions and listening more. - I am working on ways to take constructive criticism and improve my product offerings.

Linh Dam, Jan 16, 2020, Day 4/100, Business Creativity and Innovation, Week 1, Page 83, Topic - Darken

This is the first draft of my food blog’s logo that I created today

Linh Dam, Jan 17, 2020, Day 5/100, Business Creativity and Innovation, Week 1, The 3 Questions in class everyweek

1.What have I done today that was creative?

I wear my gym clothes (clean and washed) to sleep the night before and then I use the same clothes (used and not as clean) to wear to the gym the next day. Since I don't shower at the gym I wear these same clothes home. I make multiple use of the clothes instead of washing them every wear since it doesn't waste the detergent.

2.What have I done today that made me money that was creative?

What I did creative that earned me money is basically reaching out to people I sold stew to and asking them for feedback. Some of them ordered again for this week because they remembered me. I believe if I didn't message them they would not remember. Everyone has a busy schedule it's tough to plan out a meal a week in advance.

3.What three things have I done today that fed my career path? I took the Dale Carnegie seminar on how to win friends and influence people. I think working on teams and understanding people is important. Therefore, to be successful in life I think it's important to understand and learn to listen to those around us. I researched the ingredients that I've been purchasing to look for ways to reduce my expenses for the meals that I cook. This is important because reducing expenses and increasing margins is useful no matter what business you run or company you work. In conjunction to this, while I research ways to reduce my business expenses whatever I can reduce my personal expenses I will do the same. This is also important because the more expenses we can reduce personally you will be less stressed working a career job or in business.

Linh Dam, Jan 18, 2020, Day 6/100, Business Creativity and Innovation, Week 1, The 3 Questions in class everyweek

1.What have I done today that was creative?

Today I flipped my microwave to buy an instant pot. I ensured that I was able to sell my microwave on the way to purchase the instant pot. This would save time on by accomplishing 2 tasks on the same trip.

2.What have I done today that made me money that was creative?

I was able to use my instant pot to make beef stew. It is a cold and snowy day. I felt like eating something warm and savory. I assumed others on my social media would prefer the same option. I made this meal which I was making for myself and family available to whoever in Mississauga wanted to try.

3.What three things have I done today that fed my career path?

I tried a new recipe and got some practice frying bean curd sheets. I am not very confident when it comes to frying because I am scared of the oil splashing. However, most people like to eat fried food and its something worth practicing. I inquired about food photography because I know my pictures need some improvement. When I went to the gym I promoted and asked my friends for feedback on the meals I’ve let them try recently. This is so I can make improvements on the food that I’ve been cooking. I want to make sure they are perfect!

Linh Dam, Jan 19, 2020, Day 7/100, Business Creativity and Innovation, Week 1, The 3 Questions in class everyweek

1.What have I done today that was creative?

Today I shoveled the snow but since its so boring I used it as an alternative to exercise.

2.What have I done today that made me money that was creative?

Although today I did not earn any money. I used oday as a rest day so I can reformulate and plan so I can earn money later down the line. Sometimes you burn out when you try and work hard everyday. I think this is creative because instead of doing nothing I was actually doing something, resting.

3.What three things have I done today that fed my career path? I self reflected today looking back at the things I did right and wrong. Perhaps there’s areas of my life that need improvement in order for me to achieve the right things I want to achieve. I rested and recharged. As I mentioned earlier sometimes going without rest is counter productive. Just like a car, we need to maintain it and give it some rest. If we don’t we will not make it to the finish line. Today I went to a store to buy some electronics. I noticed the store owner and his interaction with his customers. His customer service was quite good and I asked him questions about his business. He told me he’s been open since 2012. This just showed me how important it is to persevere. He works 7 days a week. Nothing in life comes easy and I will have to do the same thing when I get started as well.

[mindyfication]

drowning in dreams

Wincest Writing Challenge, prompt: shifter!Dean Rating: M | Warnings: mild violence, suicidal thoughts | Length: 3k Partner: @wideawakeandwriting Read on AO3

***

Sam stumbles into Rufus’s cabin, more drunk than he should be. The fucking demon was right, he’s alone. It’s only been three days, but each feel like a whiskey-soaked eternity. Tomorrow he’ll search for real, maybe get a witch or a better psychic to help him. If Crowley didn’t lie, and wasn’t that the biggest if of the century, if he didn’t lie then Dean was in purgatory. And for once, Sam’s been procrastinating on research. He’s already urgently looked for ways to get in and out of purgatory when they had a leviathan problem, can’t free them all to maybe, probably not, get Dean back.

He should be hunting. Or going after the mystical normal life. Something.

The next day is rum, and at this rate the cabin is gonna be out of any alcohol inside of a week. He doesn’t slow down, bitterly thinks of famine saying he was the only one who could always consume more, the exception. Five drinks deep and his head starts to spin, six and he doesn’t think anymore, mindlessly watching whatever’s on tv. He likes the cartoons, always easy to follow and bitterly nostalgic, chase it down with more alcohol.

Rufus sure had a lot of rum for someone who never seemed to drink it, three days worth. Then there’s the vodka, it goes with a half-hearted attempt to clean up. There’s a bottle of port, old and fruity and rich, begging to be sipped slowly over a chess match or a good book. He drinks it outside, fresh air reminding him he should really shower and do his laundry. (He takes a bath instead, more literally stewing in his own filth, finishing off the bottle.)

Laundry goes with some overly sweet peach liquor and Sam is too close to sober, has emptied out every form of hunter’s helper to be had. He doesn’t want to go into town, something about seeing other people seems far worse than sobriety- today anyways.

The inevitable sobriety comes with an obsessive state like before without Dean. Without hunting a pseudo-trickster, he has the cabin cleaner than it has ever been. He scrubs his own skin off every morning, doesn’t leave the shower until he’s flushed pink. He works out after, the repetitive steady 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, of sit-ups and push-ups and chin-ups and jumping jacks. And then he showers again, a cold and quick rinse.

He finds nothing new on purgatory, and worse he’s running low on food. Tomorrow he’ll have to go to town, see what’s become of the world. His stomach twists unpleasantly, and a voice that sounds like his brother wonders when he became such a fucking pansy.

.

He’s halfway through his push-ups when he hears a car. His stomach knots up as he stands, grabbing the nearest gun. He looks out the window and nearly drops the pistol, sees Dean unloading a forgettable car.

“Hey lazybones, you gonna help?” Dean yells and Sam laughs breathless, rushes outside.

“Dean! How are you-”

“One minute,” Dean interrupts him, slicing his arm open and drinking holy water. Sam does the same, wincing at the salted water’s taste, handing the stuff back and enveloping his brother in a tight hug.

“How did you get out of purgatory? There was nothing in the lore-” Sam says, still holding him.

Dean grins, “C’mon hell couldn’t hold me, you though some second-rate monster land could? I’m starving, let’s get inside and we’ll talk.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, squeezing his brother once more before grabbing a bag. “You went grocery shopping?” Sam lets out a soft laugh, “Holy shit this is from a real grocery store.”

“Shut up if you want my cooking,” Dean says, hip checking the door open. “This last month I’ve existed without food, I could literally eat an entire horse.”

Guilt comes back quick and before he can ask, Dean whistles, putting the groceries on the counter. “Well aren’t you the little homemaker Sammy.”

“Jerk,” Sam says, can’t help a smile. Dean was back, it still feels like a dream.

“Bitch,” Dean tosses back carelessly, opening the fridge. “Or not, shit where’s the food kiddo?”

Sam puts away the groceries, not meeting Dean’s eyes. “I was gonna get some today.”

Dean snorts, “Lucky timing then.”

There’s more fresh food in the cabin than there probably ever has been, and he can’t deny being excited about not eating another canned or dried meal. Dean has two steaks cooking when he finally talks about it.

“Purgatory was designed to hold monsters, not people. There was an escape hatch- I couldn’t-” Dean swallows. “It took a while to get there, lot of fighting. Cas didn’t make it out.”

Sam swallows, “Maybe we could-”

“No,” Dean interrupts firmly. “The leviathans got to him, they all wanted him.”

Sam sighs, pushes back the tears. If Dean isn’t going all emo, he won’t. And it wasn’t like Sam hadn’t tried to-. Dean was alive, that’s all that mattered.

Dean slaps a steak on his plate and grabs two beers from the fridge. “First supper.”

Sam’s lips twitch, cutting into the meat. “Next time I’ll make some corn or mashed potatoes.” It hits him then that Dean might want to get back on the road, probably sees spending extra time in the cabin as a waste.

Dean rolls his eyes though, “You gonna make sure I eat my leafy greens?”

“Damn straight,” Sam says, happiness bubbling up. “Enough spinach and maybe you won’t get scurvy.”

“All the coolest pirates had scurvy,” Dean says, and they’re both too busy eating to talk more. Sam knows Dean’s a decent cook, and maybe it’s partly from how long it’s been since he ate fresh food, but the steak is beyond perfect.

He slowly eats the last bite, savoring it. “That was amazing.”

Dean grins, leaning back and rubbing his belly, “I know.”

Want surges through him, and Sam pushes it down, gets up and grabs their plates. The dishes won’t take long, but he needs a little distraction. It’s only been one day and the traitorous thoughts are coming back.

“Good wife,” Dean jokes as he scrubs the pan clean.

It rolls off him easy, he’s used to this type of teasing. “Says the one that just cooked for us,” Sam shoots back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says and he hears him gulp down the rest of his beer. The image comes to mind too easily, one he’s seen countless times of Dean’s plush lips wrapped around a bottle. Sam scrubs harder, the final bit of grit coming off, and he washes it clean. They didn’t make a mess in the kitchen, a few water rings from the beer, but Dean will know something’s up if he wipes those off. (He has Dean now, he shouldn’t even want to.)

“I’ve been thinking,” Dean says.

“About what?” Sam asks, refrains from saying what’s the case.

Dean wets his lips, “I wanna take a break.”

Sam can’t breathe, eyes wide and afraid he might wake up.

“A real one, not like two days or a concert. Like a year. We’ll still be in touch if anyone needs help, but hands off. No more dying and saving the world and self-sacrifice.” Dean rubs his face, “I’m so tired man, I can’t keep running on empty.”

This can’t be real, a djinn must have snuck up on him. There’s no way-

“Sammy? What do you think?”

“Yes,” Sam breathes, doesn’t care that this can’t be real. There’s no way Dean would ever stop, certainly wouldn’t choose it for himself. But if Dean is still in purgatory, if this is all one last dream before death- he sure as hell isn’t going to squander it.

He feels looser, easier in the freedom that it’s like a dream. Of course a djinn would give him his brother and take away the outside world, he wouldn’t have to share him with anyone, knows he’ll be safe.

“Awesome,” Dean says with a grin.

“I love you,” Sam says.

And Dean doesn’t brush it off, doesn’t tell him that emotional declarations are for near-death experiences only. Doesn’t say that this isn’t one of those movies, or that Sam must be having his time of the month.

“C’mere,” he beckons instead, and Sam goes to his arms. Dean’s still sitting in the high kitchen stool, puts them eye level. Dean’s grip tightens, brings their bodies flush together. “You’re mine Sammy, never letting you go again.”

Sam slumps into his shoulder, soaks up all the attention. His mind keeps flicking between what fake Dean- projected dream Dean really- is doing and what his brother would really do. It’s going to give him a headache, but then Dean is cupping his face, brings him back up.

“You’ll always be mine,” Dean murmurs, and brings their lips together.

Dean wouldn’t- he shouldn’t be twisting his memory like this, oh god- Dean can’t-

Dean’s tongue parts his lips, and Sam gives in. He already succumbed to this dream verse, it’s silly to deny himself now. Dean tastes like steak and beer, like he must, and it isn’t long until they’re on the small cabin bed.  

.

Sam falls into a new routine, a much more pleasurable one. He’s almost always up first, works out and takes a warm shower before crawling back into bed with Dean. Sometimes he wakes him, mouth sucking down his cock, and sometimes he just lays between his legs as time passes, Dean’s cock soft and warm and doesn’t move his lips to wake him. Sometimes he wakes Dean with softer kisses, peppered over each and every freckle on his cheeks. Sometimes Dean slips into his shower, soaps him up good before leaning him against the wall and fucking him until the water goes cold. And sometimes, Sam simply lays with him, staring at Dean’s forever young face. He could never tire of him, could consume him forever. (It resonates with something Sam doesn’t want to think about, doesn’t have to- this is his dream.)

Dean does all the cooking and grocery shopping, never asks why Sam doesn’t want to leave the cabin. His cooking is unnaturally perfect and Sam never questions that his ‘new’ recipes always turn out fantastic. He just does the dishes with a soft smile, they made a home.

They get a few calls from hunters, Dean has all of their phones forwarded to his, disposes of the old ones. There’s no point in having like fifty burner phones when one will do, Dean had said. And Sam didn’t bother listing the reasons why it mattered, just did the research for imaginary cases. Dean got bored then, would sometimes slip under the desk with a mischievous grin.

It’s all going well until it isn’t, and reality slams back into him rudely.

Dean’s cleaning the guns they never use anymore, when his hand slips and he touches a knife, skin sizzling.

Sam jumps up at the noise, reaching for the nearest silver knife, throws it at him.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Sam demands when it doesn’t kill him.

The shifter laughs, plucks the knife out of his chest and approaches slowly. “You’ve known I’m Dean 2.0 from the beginning Sammy. No need to play coy now.”

Sam’s eyes flit between the weapons bag and the knife in his hand. “You- you switched all the silver knives.”

He chuckles, “Give the man a cigar! Well, I did miss one. My bad kiddo.”

Sam gulps, backing up, “You’re real.”

The shifter grins wide, all teeth, “You’re more fucked in the head than I thought baby bro.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sam spits out, trying to circle to the weapons bag.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he says, flashing forward, a blow to the head knocking Sam unconscious.

.

Sam wakes up tied to their bed, spread eagle with the knots too tight to even try to undo one-handed. His wrists and ankles already ache a bit, and he’s sure it’s only going to get worse. A fucking shifter, a goddamn shifter had been living with him. He’d- fuck.

“Hey baby,” he says, and Sam opens his eyes, glares as not-Dean joins him on the bed, kneels between his thighs. “You could have just played along, no need for all this,” he says gesturing, “I know it can’t be easy after the cage.”

Sam spits in his face, “Shut up, you don’t know anything.”

He sighs, wipes away the spit and backhands him hard, making his ears ring. “We’ve been here for months Sam. I know everything about you and your brother, I am your brother. A better Dean and you wanted me. The version that loves you back, the me that’s just as twisted as you.

“I wore your brother’s face for too long, it became my own by mistake. But then I found you.” The shifter strokes his face softly, Sam’s stomach twisting with delight and disgust. “And I knew it, this was my true skin. You’ll always be mine Sammy, my little-”

A silver blade pierces the shifter’s chest, and he’s roughly shoved off him. There’s another Dean standing behind him, Sam wonders how they both missed this one coming in, how long it’s been there.

“I’m the only one that gets to call him that,” he says, wiping the knife on his jeans before cutting Sam loose. “You alright Sam?”

Sam rubs his wrists, eyeing the new Dean warily. “What are you?”

“Fair,” Dean says nodding to a copy of his corpse. “I just killed with silver so, you got some holy water and salt?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, getting some from the bedside cabinet.

Dean passes both tests, “It’s me Sam. What have you been doing? Were you hunting a shifter?”

Sam does the same, and Dean’s words convinced him even more than the tests. This wasn’t a dream or illusion, it’s really Dean. His stomach twists, bile burning that he swallows back down.

“Food,” Sam says, and they move into the kitchen. He starts cooking some pasta, simple enough that even he can’t fuck it up. He only goes in the fridge once for beer, winces at the lamb chops that were supposed to be tonight’s dinner. Dean- not-Dean- had been so excited about them.

“I haven’t been hunting,” Sam says, stirring the pasta.

“What? What the hell have you been doing then?”

Sam bites his lip, and Dean gets up, starts really looking around the cabin. “Have you been playing house with fake me? Really Sam?”

Sam swallows, “I-”

“You couldn’t tell it wasn’t me?” Dean yells, hand slapping down on the counter. “How many people have died in the past year Sam? How could you be so selfish-”

“I didn’t think it was real!” Sam exclaims. “I thought it was a djinn okay?”

“You thought-” Dean deflates, rubs a hand down his face, “And you just gave up? You were fine dying on me.”

Sam exhales, but Dean keeps going. “No, that’s just perfect. It’s not like I was hunting monsters in purgatory all year, fighting to stay alive and come back while you were just doing- whatever this is.”

“Well?” Dean demands. “You wanna explain that to me?”

Sam blinks away the wetness, “I couldn’t find a way to get you out of purgatory. There was nothing, it was hopeless. I was hopeless. And then not-you appeared, and everything was too easy. We were happy and researching for other hunters and it didn’t feel real.”

Sam remembers the pasta then, drains the overcooked and soft noodles. They’re pathetic, he’s pathetic. He’s empathizing with a fucking bowl of pasta.

“What changed?” Dean asks. “I didn’t exactly walk in on domestic cabin bliss.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, plating the food. “The shifter had swapped out all the silver knives, but he missed one. That’s when I realized it wasn’t a dream.”

Dean eats half a noddle before standing, “Obviously you weren’t the one cooking.”

“Uh no,” Sam mumbles.

“Whatever, grab your stuff. This place is giving me the creeps. We’ll stop by a diner on the road.”

And Sam hates leaving the cabin messy- worse that it’ll be left this way for who knows how long, mold growing on the floppy noodles. But Dean is here, for real, and Sam isn’t going to fuck that up. He packs quickly as if Dean won’t remember Rufus’s cabin only has one bed and a couch that’s clearly without bedding. Dean doesn’t say anything about it though.

“So did you talk to any of the hunters or…?” Dean asks.

“No, De- the shifter did.”

“Have you checked the phones lately?”

Sam swallows, fishing a cell out of the shifter’s pocket. “No, they were all supposed to be forwarded to this one.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Yeah I’m sure that happened. Alright let’s barbecue up fake me and then get some real barbecue. There’s a case only sixty miles from here, probably vamps. You can research the area while I play phone tag.”

Sam follows him, out into the backyard to burn the body and then to the impala’s passenger seat. He hates that there’s any longing in his chest as they leave. He has the real Dean- no part of him should want to go back to not-dreamland. The shapeshifter’s words echo in his head, you wanted me, and Sam’s sick, shouldn’t be allowed near real Dean.

“Hey,” Dean says as they pull into a local diner. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Sam lies. “What about you?”

Dean grins, “We’re back, I’m awesome.”

Sam smiles, can fake it until things feel almost normal again. It doesn’t matter that he knows what Dean tastes like everywhere or what he sounds like when- it’s not true anyways. He only has imitation knowledge, really knowledge of the shifter. And maybe if he thinks that enough times, engraves it into the insides of his skull, he’ll even believe it.

(At least in the cage Lucifer only used Dean to torture, that was easier to get over.)

“Hey, you coming?” Dean asks, outside the car.

“Yeah, shit,” Sam says, undoing his seat belt and getting out. “Sorry.”

Dean shrugs, “S’okay. This place is supposed to have the best pie in state.”

Sam grabs his laptop from the backseat with a soft laugh. “How convenient.”

“You bet. I’m thinking five course meal, all pie,” Dean says with pure glee.

Sam snorts, “Course six is gonna be upchucking.”

Dean opens the door, bell tinkling, “Ye of little faith Sammy. Just you wait.”

And Sam follows him in, the walk back into civilization easier than he thought it would be.

#wincestwritingchallenge #wideawakeandwriting #shifter!dean #wincest #dean x sam #my fic #soo the smutty 1x06 fic failed so uh here's some angst

[hutcherette]

Flowers in the Window Chapter 4

Wow only me 5 months to update, sorry! Life & work stuff just took over all my time.  I will try not to be so long in my next update. As always many thanks to my lovely beta and friend Heidi. She had a big job on her hands, as this chapter is rather long, so ta very much dude! :D xx Hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you for reading and for the lovely comments. Previous chapters can be found on A03

http://archiveofourown.org/works/7594528?view_full_work=true

"It'll have to do" Katniss muttered under breath after she had re-braided her hair for the fourth time that morning. She took a deep breath in, breathed out hard and studied her reflection in the small mirror above the basin in the female staff bathroom. 8:47 am. Nearly time to roll. Toying idly with the end of her braid she pulled out her go-to 'I'm fabulous' perfect nude lipstick for yet another coat. Letting out a resigned sigh she grabbed her handbag and opened the door quickly.

"Pull yourself together Everdeen" She chastised herself with a heated whisper.

 Unfortunately in the heat of scolding herself she hadn't noticed Johanna racing in the door. Her black duster coat whipping behind her.

"Woah there, Nelly! Are you trying to make my hangover worse than it already is?!" Jo gestured to her head, which Katniss was guessing, was pounding.

"Morning to you too Jo" she smiled patting the side of Jo's head sympathetically.

"Wild night?!"

"Wet n wild times K, all the way" Jo drawled winking at her friend. Katniss wrinkled her nose, turned back to the mirror and started toying again with her braid.

"So things good with Thresh still?"

"That man has moves that out-sex even Gloss" Jo replied pulling out her black kajal liner from her bag with the smirk of a cat who had recently had her fair share of top quality cream.

"Wow; even Gloss the man-whore extraordinaire? Well I guess it must be love," Katniss teased.

"Please." Jo rolled her eyes & applied a heavy line of sooty black in her lower waterline.

"Why are you in here anyway, K? It's almost bell and you don't fuss or primp your hair or makeup. Ever. If I didn't know you better I'd say you were avoiding the soon to be love of your life… or at least a couple of months of good lays."

 Exasperated, Katniss grabbed her handbag and started fidgeting with the zipper.

"I’m not avoiding him...I just...look...urgh we talked about this yesterday Jo, it's just all so...awkward."

"Oh come on K, it's only awkward because you're turning it into some dumb high school drama á la Delly! It's very simple. He likes you, you like him. You had some weird serendipitous meeting years ago where you hit it off with each other, so? Who cares? Get in his pants already!"

"Always boils down to one thing with you doesn't it Johanna?" Katniss snapped. Johanna glared at her from the mirror.

"Harsh, Everdeen. I'm actually trying to help you bring a bit of happiness into your life but if you're too brainless to see that then fine; stew in your own misery." She picked up her bag & turned to face Katniss.

"If you need me I'll be in the photocopier room. I just saw Mellark on his way to Trinkets room, just a heads up there to aid you in your little avoidance plan. He also asked me if I'd seen you..."

"What did you say?" Katniss asked in a half whisper staring down at the sink. She knew Jo was right, she had to give him and whatever they had or could have, a chance. The whole thing had been gnawing at her all weekend to the point where she couldn't sleep. She wanted to text him but this wasn't a simple case of boy meets girl, boy kisses girl, followed by the obligatory ‘oh so charming’ text games that usually lead to a first date or being ignored. She wanted to speak to him face to face but now the moment was here...she was terrified.

"I said no I hadn't. Besides why do you care? It's all too awkward right?!" Jo huffed back and walked out the door.

 The shrill clanging bell rang out breaking Katniss from her thoughts. Oh Shit she slapped her hand to her head. Monday mornings were her half day teaching in D12's kindergarten. The worst part of her week but she had been railroaded into it by Effie who had insisted how good the experience would look on her CPD plan this year although the truth of the matter was that every other staff member had passed up the opportunity to do it and Effie knew she could talk her round by bringing out the guilt inducing 'we need you Katniss' speech. Besides it was that or lunchtime detention duties 2 days a week. At least being there would give her head a break from Peeta mania. Mind you, the prospect of having to face Peeta later on with snot stains on her clothes and paint on her shoes didn't exactly thrill her either. Feeling a little more relaxed Katniss walked down the old rickety stairwell down into the main lobby, kindergarten bound. The years had not been kind to D12's main building, built in 1936 the red sandstone three storey building looked impressive from the exterior but inside was another story. Leaking roofs, peeling paint and some furniture that hasn't been replaced since Eisenhower meant that the school was often in a dilapidated condition. Mrs Cray wanted to bulldoze the entire building and rebuild but Cressida favoured fund raising events to preserve and fix, what was at its heart, a beautiful building full of character and history.

Katniss was rifling through her bag to find the key card that opened the kindergarten entry door when those smooth molten caramel tones echoed behind her. "Hey Katniss" Oh god. Oh god. Thought I'd at least have a couple of hours before facing him. She breathed out. 1-2-3. Slowly, she turned around, her eyes locking with a motherload of electric blue.

"Hi," she squeaked a little higher pitched than she intended. She cleared her throat trying to find a way to ground herself and not make this anymore awkward than it already was.

"Hi Peeta, hey, um how are you?" Those eyes twinkled and a soft smile crept over his lips.

"Not bad, all the better for seeing you."

If she wasn't so self-conscious she'd swear that Peeta's face flushed slightly. And then… Silence. Say something, say anything!

"Th-thanks you too. Hope the White Russians were kind to you next morning. I felt a little queasy but it wore off. Johanna swears by a Virgin Bloody Mary with her secret recipe hash browns & bacon breakfast. Really does sort you out..." Her voice trailed off as she realised she was in full babbling overload and that Peeta was smiling at her with a look of bemusement.

"I'll need to try that sometime. I personally prefer Cheese buns and a black coffee. I was helping out at the family bakery all day Saturday & that combination saved my ass. Not sure if White Russians were my best idea ever." "No, no they were good." Peeta beamed at her. As she started to feel lost in his eyes again.

"Mr Mellark! Where are you dear?" Effie trilled her clacking heels echoing off the concrete floor as she waltzed into the lobby. Her face a picture of panic as two children from Peeta's class walked sullenly behind her. One covering his nose with a blood stained tissue. "Two of your children have been fighting, yes fighting, in the playground!" She shrieked from behind. Peeta looked behind him and then smiled apologetically at Katniss.

"Sorry, looks like duty calls. Listen are you busy at lunch? I brought in left over cheese buns. I'd..." He hesitated as if trying to gauge what her answer would be. "I'd really like to talk...not to sound all heavy. But I'd like to explain why I didn't tell you what I knew on Friday night."

"I'm sorry I didn't text you Peeta. I, I, sorry it was just a lot to take in."

"Please, don't be – sorry I mean... Kinda figured you'd need some time. Hell, when I saw you for the first time last week, I definitely needed some time to process it all."

That smile, the one that made her melt the first time she had seen it through that crazy green headpiece, beaming at her, was full front and centre.

"Sure... um… meet me here, 12.15? I... I like buns.... cheese ones, I mean." She closed briefly her eyes cringing at her last statement. Learn to talk Everdeen.

"Good, good" he grinned, the look of relief pertinent on his face.

"Made by my own fair hand, so they should be tasty enough."

Was he flirting or was this just bakery chit chat?! Whatever it was she was starting to feel extremely warm again.

"Ok, um, I better get to Kindergarten. See you later." She clumsily turned around and gave him a wave.

"Give 'em hell, Dorothy girl" He smirked. Lord.

"I try," she mock sighed, pushing down on the door handle & walking through. Ok it was flirting, she grinned, definite flirting.

 *********

 "Sweet lord... unh… these are amazing," Katniss groaned and wiped her mouth self-consciously after what was her third cheese bun. Peeta laughed offering her a napkin and carton of orange juice.

"Honestly Peeta, your talents are obviously wasted here in the teaching profession. You bake like a bad ass." She grinned taking the carton. Jesus could I stop babbling at the cheese buns for 1 second and actually focus on the fact that Peeta and I are on a semi date?! And did I just say the phrase 'bake like a bad ass?' Do I now have the oracy skills of a ten year old?! Too many ridiculous questions were swirling around her brain. She took a long drink from the carton. Calm down Katniss, she mentally soothed herself. Not noticing her embarrassment Peeta grinned back at her.

"Ah, why thank you kind lady but I think I'll leave the bad ass for my time in the kitchen and keep the genteel for the classroom."

"Shame," she smiled back meekly. Peeta had been standing waiting for her at 12.15 on the dot outside the nursery doors. To be honest, after 3 hellish hours of dealing with runny noses, (one child has actually wiped his nose on her hand), repeated readings of The Gruffalo including one session where the Gruffalo and fox toy props were thrown across the room, seeing a gorgeous guy with knockout blue eyes holding a paper bag of freshly baked bakery goods was just the tonic. They sat on a bench under the huge willow tree in the front gardens of the school. It hadn't been as awkward as Katniss had worried it would be. Peeta was good at small talk and filling in silences, and just as she remembered from that fateful Halloween night, he always knew the right thing to say. Katniss reached over to take her juice carton, Peeta caught her eye and smiled at her, his cheeks looking slightly pinker than usual. Silence. Damn I spoke too soon. He cleared his throat and crumpled the paper bag causally in his hands.

"Uh Katniss, uh about the other night I..." the assured smooth talking stance seemed to be faltering.

"Yeah?" Katniss prompted.

"Well, ok here goes, I had this all rehearsed in my head and now I've messed it up already." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I like you Katniss. I've liked you since that night at the party. After we met I couldn't stop thinking about you but I was still involved with Cashm... my girlfriend at the time. We weren’t really getting on that well when we met but we had been together since high school and I wanted to make it work. It didn't though and we split up 2 years later. I wish, I had looked for you… God I wish so many things had been different. You were seeing a guy too right?"

"Yeah I was... um Gale. We broke up last year actually." She bit her lip. Where was this going? Did he regret meeting her, was it just too messy for them to even try and start something?

"Oh, I would say I'm sorry but..." He gently placed his hand over hers.

"But?" she breathed out shakily. The warmth of his hand was sending out those jolts of electric charge again.

"Well with no disrespect to Gale, his loss might be my gain?" Katniss smiled shyly, stroking his thumb gently.

"I couldn't believe it when I saw you here, just across the classroom. I wasn't sure if it was you at first. Having been a few years since that night and the fact that you weren't clad in gingham," he laughed softly. "I wanted to tell you at the Med but we were getting on so well and I guess I wanted to see if the same connection was still there, and it was... I felt it."

"I noticed you looking at me but thought maybe it was my imagination," she grinned.

"Why would you think it's your imagination?! You're beautiful. I don't think you know… the effect you have. "

Ok the fact that his head had come closer in proximity was definitely not her imagination. She feeling a little intoxicated. Those eyes and the fact that he had licked his lips were now all she could focus on.

"It's the same effect I felt at that party. It's dazzling, you're dazzling Katniss" He leaned forward, placed his hand on her cheek to cradle her face. His fingers softly grazed her temples. She could get lost in those hits of blue. She felt his breath on her lips, it was going to happen. Fuuucckkkk. She let out a soft squeak as she felt his lips graze hers. Heaven, heaven she sang in her mind. What - what what's that noise?! No, no! She groaned internally as the school bell rang with all its shrill intonations. She opened her eyes, Peeta touched her forehead with his. His fingers still stroking her face.

"Saved by the bell huh?!" He whispered huskily.

"Don't think I'd use the word 'saved' more like cursed," she rolled her eyes and lifted her hand up to stroke the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. He laughed and slowly pulled his head away but still holding her hand.

"Probably for the best really. Last thing we need is Effie hauling us into her office for unprofessional conduct."

Katniss laughed picking up her handbag and jacket.

"Hmm.... I think I would have risked it." He smiled bashfully, running a finger slowly from her temples to jaw. She shivered, oh god she was done for.

"Peeta Mellark... you live right on the edge don't you," she teased.

"Oh Miss Everdeen you have no idea," he winked cheekily. They walked up towards the school entrance in a happier much more comfortable silence. She stopped at the foot of the stairs.

"Thanks for lunch Peeta, it was... lovely." She felt her blush creep back with a vengeance.

"You're welcome. My class were in the gym hall for all of lunch. Cressida organised a judo instructor as a treat for their class of the week award. So I better go, and hope none of them try out any of their moves on me."

"Good luck with that," she laughed and started walking up the stairs.

"Uh Katniss...?”

She turned around. Nervous Peeta was back in business. "Would you like to get together one night this week? Dinner, or a movie or both?"

"Sure." Damn. She had gone for casual but it came out rather high pitched again. "I...I could cook dinner if you like, at mine. I'm no cordon bleu but I can whip up a mean Lasagne," she blurted out quickly. Her place?! Did she really say that? What was he going to think?! That she was easy. Learn also when to shut up Everdeen.

"Sounds fantastic. Are you free Friday night? You cook and I'll bring more buns?!"

"Yes: yes to all of the above. Seven a good time? And please do bring your buns, the more the merrier."

Peeta gave her a bemused look. "Yeah 7, I look forward to it and Katniss... my buns are always available," he grinned and walked away towards the gym hall before Katniss could respond. She was glad that wouldn't be able to witness how flustered and warm she had suddenly become again.

She was really going on a date with Peeta Mellark... monster boy... eyes that make all the panties drop. Oh lord she was done for.

  ******

 "Let me be clear, you... Katniss Everdeen... offered up your cooking?! To an innocent victim?!" Madge cackled down the phone line.

"What's wrong with my cooking, I don't remember you complaining when you had the flu and I looked after you for an entire weekend!" Katniss shot back. "Katniss that was mostly grilled cheese sandwiches and heated up pizzas, which you burned!" She continued to laugh.

"Uh no I did not! And that was 6 years ago! I've been practising. Anyway Jo's Lasagne recipe is fool-proof.”

Madge had phoned that night for a catch up and now it had turned into a critical appraisal of her Friday plans with Peeta.

"Ok, ok no more roasting of Katniss, pun intended. At least tell me what you're wearing?"

"I haven't thought about it, jeans maybe, black top."

"Pants on fire K, I know you too well. You're crazy about this guy, but trying to play it cool, your tried and tested defence mechanism against disappointment. Which is mental. It's Peeta friggin' Mellark! He's a gorgeous and a total sweetheart. Why didn't you tell me you guys met at the Halloween party?"

"You know why! Um, long standing boyfriend at the time, you remember him...6 foot 2, dark hair, answered to the name Gale?"

"Har har, I just meant, it would have saved you a lot of time had you guys got together years ago."

"I wasn't going to give up my relationship for a crush on a guy in a monster costume Madge!"

"Uh-huh look how well that turned out."

"I know…" Katniss replied sadly.

"I'm sorry Katniss, that was out of line. Just been a bitch of a day and Adam is driving me nuts." Madge sighed

"Please, it’s us, we always have a get out of jail free cards for crabbiness, especially if it's about men being assholes." Madge and her boyfriend, the same Adam Gloss from the infamous Halloween party, were in the middle of a messy breakup. Adam, at being the dumpee, had recently started behaving a petty and spiteful manner towards Madge resulting in weekly demands for clothes, books, or some other, often insignificant object, that he wanted back from her apartment.

"Thanks. But still I shouldn't take his shitty behaviour out on my best friend. He texted me earlier and demanded a shitty plastic shot glass that he brought me back from Bermuda. Seriously K, I'm so glad I ended it, look at the kind of guy he is. He's certainly no Peeta." She sighed wistfully at the end of the sentence. "Maybe you should date him," Katniss joked.

"Haha! Nuh-huh, I've heard he's got it baaaad for you Everdeen."

"What, please… How do you know that?"

"I have my sources, namely Johanna." Katniss could almost hear her smirking. "And when have you ever listened to Jo?!" She laughed.

"Jo's a little intense but that's half the fun right?! Anyway you still haven't told me what you're wearing? I think you should go and buy a new dress. I'm thinking a sexy black body con style with your hair loose in tousled waves... If I wasn't three hours away by plane l would be coming over and supervising this whole date, instead I'm entrusting Johanna to man the decks."

"Body con Madge? Seriously. It's a low key first date, not dress up like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Besides Glimmer wears all those sultry style clothes and it hasn't impressed Peeta one bit." Katniss bit her lip remembering how all over Peeta Glimmer was at the night out. "That's just not me."

"Ok I know, I know, I'm just so excited for you plus you have an amazing figure Katniss. You should show it off sometime."

"One step at time. Listen Madge gotta run. Call you Thursday night ok. Love you." Katniss walked over and opened the door to Jo.

"You too, say hi to Jo, bye."

After their disagreement in the bathroom Katniss had apologised and provided a peace offering in the form of Chinese food and allowing Jo to bring over a choice selection of possible date outfits.

"You're as bad as Madge!" Katniss groaned later, upon viewing the 2nd outfit in Jo's often inappropriate collection of dresses.

"Madge has got some damn good taste then!" She sniggered running her hand down an obscenely short dark red leather dress.

"No, and that's the end of it. Do you have anything here that is..." She caught Johanna's eye and her challenging expression and she inwardly flinched at possibly starting another row with her.

"That's what K?" Jo replied with slight defiance in her voice.

"Well..." Katniss chose her words carefully. "More... me?" She looked up feeling a little anxious about how Jo was going to respond. Much to Katniss's relief Jo grinned wickedly, pulling out a dress from underneath the red leather one. "Yeah, yeah I get you K," she rolled her eyes. "So I came prepared." "Whadda'ya think?" She held up a sleek looking fine knitted black ribbed sweater dress. "100% Italian wool, ya know."

"Oh my god Jo, that's beautiful. Why haven't I seen you wear this before?"

"It's a little strait laced for my taste." She winked. "My mom got it for my Christmas last year. Forgot I had it. She gets all these swish looking dresses at that boutique of hers. I guess she was trying to smarten me up."

"You don't need it, perfect as you are Mason." Katniss bumped her fist affectionately on Johanna's shoulder.

"Well duh obviously, Brainless!" She laughed tapping Katniss's hand. "Anyway it's yours if you want it?"

"I can't have this Jo, it must have cost a..."

"Two hundred and fifty eight plus tax... Yep she left the tags on, just have it Everdeen. Don't say I don't treat you!" Jo flung the dress at Katniss. "Go try it on... You're gonna look hot, Mellark will flip his little blondie lid!"

"Thanks Jo, this is perfect" Katniss examined the dress. It felt so soft between her fingers. She inwardly blushed thinking about Peeta checking her out in it. "Anytime. Now about your makeup. I'm thinking a dark red lip and killer contouring of those cheekbones." Katniss mock sighed loudly before heading to the bathroom.

"We'll see…"

"No way, if I'm giving you that dress you're getting the makeup I order." Jo called after her.

"Sure Jo, sure." Katniss laughed closing the door.

    The rest of the week had gone by in a blur of shy smiles and lingering glances across classrooms and stairwells. She hadn't got the chance to speak much to Peeta due to it being his turn to supervise lunchtime detention this week. By the time Friday afternoon came Katniss was beginning to feel definite pre-date jitters creeping up on her.

"What's the worst that could happen? Blondie won't put out on the first date." Johanna grinned mischievously as she gathered up a huge pile of homework sacks to give out.

"Har-har Jo, thanks. I feel much more at ease now," Katniss deadpanned. "Always happy to help K, - AARON CRAY WHAT DID MISS EVERDEEN JUST SAY?!" She thundered across the room to deal with more Cray shenanigans.

 "Hey,” that beautiful voice that she came to crave and be fearful of at the same time echoed in her ear.

"Gah," she spun round to see Peeta leaning against the door frame wearing a sinfully fitting blue shirt that just made the blue of his eyes pop out even more. "Sorry you startled me there Mr Mellark," she self-consciously pushed her hair behind her ear and felt her face begin that familiar burn again.

"Apologies Miss Everdeen."

That sexy grin should be god damned outlawed she inwardly groaned.

"Was just wondering if I could borrow your copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? Promised the kids I'd read a chapter to them today."

"Sure thing," she walked over to her bookshelf behind her desk, smiling to herself. He could have sent his TA to get the book but he went instead. Yep must have definitely wanted to see her.

"Here you go, enjoy."

"Thanks and by the way," Peeta lowered his voice and looked furtively around the classroom for any eavesdroppers "We still on for tonight?"

"Yeah, yes definitely. Seven?"

"I'll see you then," he replied with a wink and turned around to leave. "Hey Mellark! I expect a good report," Johanna called across the room loudly.

Peeta looked a little stunned for a minute, rubbed the back of his beck and smiled back coolly.

"It'll be A star Miss Mason, I promise!"

The three kids standing beside Jo stared over at Katniss and Peeta looking completely perplexed.

"Hey you three, heads down and concentrate," Jo snapped then smirked at Katniss.

"See you later Katniss," Peeta smiled apologetically at her before walking out. "Jesus," she muttered as if her nerves weren't already frazzled. Would she even make it to 7 tonight?!

 *****

 Hair done, makeup on, dress on, ah shit perfume still to spritzed, teeth - not brushed!? Oh god yes good breath is imperative. Katniss continued to mentally compile the rest of her to do list while putting the lasagne in the oven. It was quarter to seven and she was running behind, and as Madge predicted the cooking wasn't quite up to Cordon Bleu standards. She had burned the onions in the Bolognese and had to run out to the corner shop to hastily get some more and now the fucking whipping cream for the individual trifles wasn't whipping.

'Soft peaks,' the recipe had said. No peaks, just a runny mess.

Where's Martha Stewart when you need her? She muttered to herself. Hang on, hang on she grinned at her own inventiveness. She pulled out a can of whipped cream from the fridge and started spraying it into the set custard. Sorted. She raced through to the bathroom toothbrush in one hand, her Black Nirvana perfume in the other. You got this in hand Everdeen, all is well she reassured herself in the mirror. She had managed to talk Jo out of applying her makeup by letting her curl her hair instead. The last thing Peeta would want to see surely was her face trowelled on with makeup like Glimmer or (dare she say it) Cashmere?!

Her buzzer rang in a volume that seemed louder than usual or was it her nerves jangling?! She ran over and hit the button.

"Come on up," she called trying to sound casual but epically failing.

 1-2-3-4-5, she counted inwardly while standing by the door waiting to let him in. 6-7-8-9-10, oh god oh god it's Peeta, Peeta Mellark soon to be in my apartment, 11-12-13-14-15, on a fucking date.

16-17-18-19, Jesus Mellark how long does it take to walk up to my door?!

20 - a loud purposeful knock came from the other side of the door.

She opened the door a little cautiously. There he was all 5'11 of him, his hair styled lightly with gel so it was pushed away from his forehead. This just intensified his beautiful eyes even more. He wore a black fitted shirt, black jeans with a beige casual jacket over the top. She wasn't sure if Peeta hadn't actually moonlighted as an Abercrombie model in the past because he was certainly working it. She realised she'd just been staring at him when he politely coughed and smiled shyly.

"Oh, hi Peeta come in," she gestured with her hands a little awkwardly.

"Thanks," he grinned walking through. He seemed as on edge as her putting A hand in his pocket.

"Uh these are for you." He handed a paper wrapped small bouquet of golden orange sunflowers.

"They're beautiful, thank you. Take a seat I'll go put them in water. Dinner should be in ten minutes. Would you like some wine?“ she replied a little shrilly. Get to the kitchen Katniss, just get there and calm the fuck down. She scolded herself.

"Uh yeah wine would be good. Thanks. Can I give you a hand with anything?" He called as she sped off to the kitchen,

"No, no just relax," She hurriedly placed the sunflowers in the vase by the window. Grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses. Before leaving she took two deep breaths and then went back through. She sat down next to Peeta on the sofa.

"You look beautiful by the way," he said softly his eyes never leaving hers. She grabbed the wine glass a little too hastily spilling a little on Peeta’s lap.

"Oh jeez I'm so sorry!" She grabbed a tissue from the table.

"Hey, hey it's ok, Katniss it's fine. Was just a little spill." He clasped her hand and gently rubbed her knuckles reassuringly.

"Besides it's not the first time you've spilled alcohol on me," he smirked taking a sip. She couldn't bring herself to take her hand away it felt so good.

"Oh god," she groaned, "that was so embarrassing," remembering her face slamming into his green Lycra clad private parts all those years ago. Peeta laughed.

"Without sounding like a total perv I didn't mind it at all." His flirtatious cheeky manner was in full swing and it was the sexiest feeling in the world to be on the receiving end of it.

"I'm glad someone enjoyed my shame," she laughed. His hand was still rubbing hers and god did it feel fucking good. He let go gently and took his jacket off. She missed the skin on skin contact immediately.

"So how was your day?" She asked. He was so good at putting her at ease in every situation.

"Not bad. Effie asked if-" Suddenly Peeta’s voice was drowned by the piercing wail of her fire alarm.

"Wha – oh, shit! The lasagne!”

Leaping out of her seat she ran to the kitchen. Smoke billowed out of the oven. Peeta appeared behind her his hand on her shoulder.

"Do you have a dish towel?" He called over the din. She grabbed one from the counter and handed to him. He immediately started wafting the smoke away from the alarm. Springing into action she switched the oven off, pulled open the oven door with the mitt and threw the lasagne in the sink with an almighty clatter. Tears welled up as she stared down at the burned lasagne clogging up her sink. She heard Peeta continue to waft his tea towel and the horrendous mocking sound of the alarm.

Suddenly silence. The smoke had dissipated somewhat but still clung around the kitchen.

"Well...." Peeta still had his hand mid-air clutching the dish towel. "That's a welcome I'll never forget!"

He looked at her and his mouth twitched in amusement. Whatever frustration and anger she had just been feeling drained and she burst into laughter with Peeta following suit. They howled with laughter and after a minute Peeta pulled her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head, before peeling with laughter once again.

"I think...." she breathed clutching her stomach with hilarity, "That this is god’s way of telling me not to cook anymore."

"You think?!" He joked rubbing her back.

The dinner was ruined, her pride a little dented but the incident had diffused the tension she was feeling and for that she was thankful. She could be herself not first date jitters-Katniss.

"You wanna order takeout? She said wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks. "I've got an idea that's way better than takeout. I'll cook for you." He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. There in the middle of a smoky, messy kitchen with her eyes streaming Peeta was caressing her face with both hands and kissing her. The kiss deepened and Katniss moaned, stepping back against the counter to steady herself. He lightly traced her bottom lip with his tongue before gently letting it caress her own. A few minutes passed before he gently pulled back still stroking her face and neck. His blue eyes a tad darker than their usual cerulean hue.

"If you cook the way the way you kiss then I'll be in for a taste sensation," she grinned rubbing her hands up his arms.

"Oh just you wait Everdeen," he pecked her on the lips again before making his way over to her fridge. "Hmm... ok yeah I can work with this," he murmured to himself.

"Go sit and relax, I should be ready in say about 20 minutes." He grabbed a carton of eggs, milk, butter and a packet of bacon.

"What no Peeta. I'm staying here to help you. Least I can do since I burnt your dinner."

"Nuh-uh. If you want your dinner you'll go sit. Go on... too many cooks and all that." He grinned, pulled her in for another embrace from behind and started playfully tickling her.

"Ok, ok, ok I give in," she laughed pulling him in for another kiss.

"Mmm, I could just stand here and do this all evening," he looked lustfully at her. "But I promised you dinner and cheese buns, so scoot. "

She laughed and left him to it. Sinking back onto the sofa she took a large gulp of wine and sighed. What a night. She was nervous as hell wondering how she was going to handle him being there and now there he was cooking her dinner and kissing her in an obscenely sexy way that made her want to clench her thighs together and head to her bedroom to recover. Peeta was special, there was no doubt about it and she felt so lucky that they had reconnected.

Ten minutes later, she heard some dishes clanging together. She kinda felt guilty about leaving him to it but he seemed determined. She switched on some music. The relaxing tones of Massive Attack's Unfinished Sympathy were welcome and soothing. Grabbing the wine bottle she poured herself another glass. She put her fingers up to her lips and thought about that kiss. God....

A loud knock at the front door reverberated through the room. What? Oh come on, who would be knocking at this time on a Friday? Maybe it was the Super coming to inspect the fire alarm. Oh joy. She opened to door quickly.

 1-2-3-4-5

"Hey, Katniss."

6-7-8-9-10

"Gale," she uttered.

Duh duh duuuuuuuh! He's back...evil cackle.. Be rest assured i'm no fan of Galeniss in any form lol but Katniss needs to confront and deal with her past once and for all.

For those who don't know, i am a primary teacher like Katniss and I also dislike my time teaching in nursery.  Her experiences were definitely drawn from my own. (Although sadly I didnt have Peeta waiting for me with cheese buns....such is life)

#flowers in the window #everlark #everlark fanfiction #katniss and peeta #chapter 4 #was so nervous about posting this #will not as long for next chapter mantra mantra

[ezatluba]

The Humanification of Pet Food Is Nearly Complete

Jerky, cookies, cheesy toppings—animals’ meals are out of the can and into the uncanny valley.

JOE PINSKER

OCT 26, 2018

To succinctly capture the strangeness of how Americans feed their house pets in the year 2018, there are perhaps no better five words than pumpkin-spice lattes for dogs. If there’s room to use a few more qualifiers, then non-GMO, American-made goat’s-milk pumpkin-spice lattes for dogs would probably be more evocative.

That is a real product, sold by a real company—“Just add warm water!” the label says—and it would not feel too out of place on the shelves of many pet-food aisles, where these days one is almost just as likely to encounter labels boasting “grass-fed beef” and “high-protein” recipes as anywhere else in the store.

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As these aisles indicate, pet food—particularly high-end pet food—is edging ever closer to human food, and the overlaps between the two categories can be uncanny. “People are putting whole berries in there, whole cranberries, whole blueberries,” says Don Tomala, the president of Matrix Partners, a pet-products branding firm. “They’re putting kelp in there, they’re putting turmeric in there, they’re putting apple-cider vinegar in there … These are all trends within the human-food side.”

Tomala, who helped launch the dog food Kibbles ’n Bits in the early 1980s, remembers that back then, “it was food for your dog—that was about as far as it went.” Ingredients weren’t fussed over, and the packaging was playful; he remembers cartoonish labels, say, with “a bubble-faced dog on it smiling.” That wouldn’t fly today. Tomala says packages now are more likely to display “a serious-looking dog … It looks nutritious and healthy—it looks like something I’d buy at Whole Foods.”

This transformation of pet food reflects a broader trend, in which people go to ever-greater lengths to address the human needs they project onto their pets, almost as if the animals were their children. Some Americans buy silicone testicular implants so that their pet might “retain its natural look and self-esteem” after being neutered, or make provisions in their wills for their horses; a friend recently told me that she discovered, when picking up a new prescription, that she and her dog had been put on the same anxiety medication.

Marketers often attribute the treatment of pets as little humans in part to Millennials waiting longer to have children, which frees them up to channel their energies toward their “fur babies,” a term people sometimes (unfortunately) use for their pets. With that in mind, it makes sense that some people would want to buy the finest foods for their animals. Another factor behind the rise of high-quality pet food is the increased concern many shoppers have about the environmental and social impact of all sorts of consumer goods.

“One of the main things that we’ve seen in the past five-plus years is that the parents, the shoppers, of the pets, they’re looking at pet food in the very same way they’re looking at the food they buy for themselves,” says Steve Rogers, a principal consultant at the firm Clarkston Consulting who advises large food and beverage companies, many of which have pet-food divisions. Non-GMO, gluten-free, no preservatives—these are what many consumers are after, and, Rogers says, “any trend that you almost see in consumer purchases or consumer food, pet food is basically a lagging indicator.”

These trends, of course, do not apply to the entire pet-food market, but they do apply to a significant, fast-growing chunk of it. Based on market research and conversations with clients, Rogers estimates that about half of pet owners could be potential buyers of these more expensive, ethically sourced, and organic varieties. And Tomala says there’s plenty of demand for regular old dog food, but “it just isn’t what’s driving the pet industry as much—the growth is coming from higher-end products,” the ones that cost twice as much, or more, per pound. Indeed, Americans’ spending on pet food has increased from $18 billion in 2009 to $30 billion in 2017, which far outpaces the rate at which pet ownership rose during that period. In other words, people are spending more on food per pet than they did a decade ago.

One company that has benefited from this increase is the Honest Kitchen, a San Diego–based firm founded in 2002 that makes the aforementioned pumpkin-spice lattes for dogs as well as a range of other “human-grade” pet foods. “That just means the ingredients are from the human food chain and are manufactured inside a human food facility and follows all of human food regulations,” as opposed to the regulations for pet food at the state and federal levels, explained Carmen Velasquez, the company’s marketing director. The Honest Kitchen makes dehydrated products, which, with the addition of warm water, achieve “almost like an oatmeal consistency. You can still see cranberries, pieces of apple, little banana chips,” Velasquez says.

“We definitely pull inspiration from the human food chain,” she told me, citing her company’s “instant bone broth” and “seasonal instant eggnog.” It also sells beef jerky for dogs. Mike Steck, the company’s chief marketing officer, who was also on the phone, said, “We have to be careful. Part of what we have to do with the brand is make sure that it can never be confused as human food.”

Read: Why is buying pet food so hard?

Dana Brooks, the president of the Pet Food Institute, a trade group representing pet-food makers, has taken note of the humanification of pet food as well. “We’re trending more into the space of having our pet food look a little more like our food,” she said.

She mentioned a company called Freshpet, which in its own words makes “real pet food, fresh from the fridge.” In explaining the appeal of “real” food, Brooks said, “Maybe you can provide your pet something that looks similar so you feel like you’re sharing your meal with your pet.” She told me about a recent visit she’d made to a Freshpet facility: “I mean, I was hungry when I was touring it—it smelled like hamburgers and roasted chicken and beef stew.”

The history of pet food as a consumer good has not always been so appetizing, as Katherine C. Grier, a historian at the University of Delaware and the author of Pets in America: A History, told me. Grier walked me through pet food’s past, starting in the mid-1800s, when housewives would cook a separate “dog stew” that consisted of leftover meat, bones, gristle, or vegetables mixed into potatoes or rice or cornmeal. The first consumer pet food, Grier said, hit the American market in the 1870s: A British company, Spratt’s Patent Ltd., sold biscuits that claimed to improve the performance of hunting dogs and show dogs.

Over the years, Spratt’s and other companies started selling to more casual dog owners, but what really launched dog food into the mainstream was canned food, which started appearing on shelves around the 1910s. The first canned food was made up entirely of horsemeat—something that humans generally wouldn’t eat but that was left over after worn-out workhorses were killed and turned into soap, fertilizer, or other products. Some meatpacking companies, following the success of horsemeat pet food, realized they could package their own unused animal bits and started entering the market as well.

The Great Depression, ironically, is when canned food started to really catch on. In tight times, households scaled back their meat purchases, which often meant less in the way of leftovers for the family pet. So households started turning to canned food, which allowed them to keep feeding their pets protein more cheaply. Human-quality meat was also hard to come by during World War II, and according to Grier, after the war was over, pet food got its own aisle in the supermarket.

This was the beginning of the pet-food market that today’s cat and dog owners would recognize. While the food was generally nutritionally adequate, it was still kind of gross; horsemeat still made it into cans for decades after the war, but disappeared over time. Even today, pet food can include, in the words of the independent organization that helps establish industry standards, chickens’ “heads, feet, [and] viscera.”

When I referred to some pet-food ingredients as “unsavory” in my conversation with Brooks of the Pet Food Institute, she said, “The only thing I would caution is when you hear ‘unsavory,’ it may be unsavory to you as a human consumer … [but] also provide the minerals and some of the vitamins that pets need.” There are animal parts, she noted, that many Americans prefer not to consume, but are “considered delicacies in other countries.”

American pet owners’ ambivalence about these ingredients is part of what high-end food manufacturers are responding to. They are also catering to the pet owners who worry about contaminated food and (probably too much)about grain allergies.

But the sorts of products that some of them are buying—see: jerky—seem unlikely to address health concerns, and blur the line between human and pet indulgences. The concept of that line is something I talked about with Molly Mullin, an anthropologist who lectures at North Carolina State University and studies human-animal relationships. “These categories, people have to, to a certain extent, make them up as they go along,” she says. “People are always revisiting them and thinking about them and playing with them.”

Food is just one category that’s getting played with. And that’s probably a good thing: As upscale pet foods become more environmentally friendly and more ethically sourced, those trends can trickle down into the mainstream market as well and shape the way more American pets are fed.

Still, the contribution to the greater good seems modest, given that the majority of pet food is ultimately just the feeding of some animals to others—not to mention that some people pay to pamper their pets while other people go hungry. And besides, who can tell how much a pet actually likes human-grade bone broth? Humans are not always good at reading dogs’ emotions—the canine expression that humans interpret as a smile actually can indicate fear or worry. For the most part, pet food isn’t getting more human-like so that pets can feel better—it’s so humans can.