#also had rice chex

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam,

Not to be that person, but if you're doing gluten free baking/cooking and are worried about cross-contamination/the risk of allergies, you'll need to have specific utensils/bakeware/cookware that haven't had gluten products in them.

Found out the hard way with cake pans and my bowls and stuff when my nephew was diagnosed as not being able to have any gluten and most nuts and I made him a gf birthday cake but hadn't used brand spanking new bakeware.

No worries, I know how important it can be in terms of severe allergies. This batch isn't going to our young GF friend, deliberately, because I wasn't careful about cross-contamination; this was just a test to make sure they baked okay, since I was replacing dairy milk with coconut and I've never done GF baking before.

For example, you have to grease bowls, pans, and hands pretty thoroughly for this dough and I deliberately didn't use spray oil because it had sunflower oil in it, but then without thinking I used Crisco which has soy, something else he can't have. So the one major note for the recipe was COCONUT OIL FOR GREASING in big letters at the top. I feel like this poor kid probably lives on Rice Chex and coconut milk.

He is, apparently, not so sensitive that trace contamination is a concern except with peanuts, which I'm also allergic to so don't keep in the house. But if I'm going to bake for him on the reg I'll designate a special bowl, stirring spoon, and boiling pan for his bagels, just in case. Fortunately the recipe is relatively light on required cookware, unlike some of the bread I make.

#sam cooks #food

[pbandjesse]

I took a sick day today. Which u do not like doing at all!!! But I felt so bad and needed to just be alone and rest. And thankfully I am feeling a lot better. Like I think if I had done more today I wouldn't feel great, but the rest really did help.

This morning I woke up and felt no good. James was right there and I told them I felt bad and wanted to sleep more. So I reset my alarm for 8.

When I woke up at 8 though I felt so bad. My mouth and throat felt so swollen and my chest hurt. So I sent an email to camp that I did not feel good and wouldn't be in. But I would do a little work at home. And then I went back to sleep.

I woke up at 1030. I normally hate waking up after 10 but I needed it. And I still wasn't feeling amazing but once I washed my face and got dressed I felt a little better. I was glad I didn't go to work, but at least I wasn't dying anymore and in pain.

I made the bed and got dressed and went to have breakfast. James had left a sandwich for me. And I would sit on the bedroom floor and sorted my socks while I ate. I have two small suitcases of socks and I now have all the socks I wear on a daily basis in the top box and all my fun socks and special socks in the bottom box. Hopefully it will prevent me from being frustrated looking for socks in the morning.

I would spend the next couple hours working on my computer. The new laptop is working a lot better then it was. I set up shop in bed and worked on the PowerPoint for my outreaches. This ended up being a huge undertaking. Originally the plan was to make a general way to identify species. But then I was like there are so many species, plants, trees, animals. To many!! So I decided to focus on just trees. Which will mean I will have to update the descriptions of the program but that's okay. But then there are about 100 kinds of trees native to Maryland. So I was very overwhelmed. I decided to focus on just puhtok but that's still at least 50 according toe Charlotte. I have decided I am going to just focus on 8. 3 coniferous and 5 deciduous. And then just breaking down all the things you look for when trying to figure out what kind of tree you are looking at. And then I'll have some books and resources as references for the art portion of the program.

I lost steam though and wanted to lay down. So I called it a day and laid in bed watching videos and hanging out with sweetp.

I was texting Jess and she asked me a question that I had to get up to confirm. So I drug myself out of bed. She said that SodaStream bottles expire so I went to see when ours expires. One year left! Neat.

And since I was up I did some stuff around the apartment. Did a quick vacuum. Did a little sewing in the studio. I got a text that I had a package so I went down to get that. Walking on the stairs made me a little lightheaded. So I sat down for a few minutes opening my package.

My airpods case came but it was kind of ugly. I decided to fix it up. I didn't get a before picture but the after is posted. I took the ears off and put them on what was originally the bottom. It looked like it had a huge forehead before. I also added the nose. And brushed the fur out because it was all trapped in the stitching so it looks a lot better now. Has big muppet energy.

I had some stuff to glue. And discovered my chargeable hot glue gun is not charging. Ugh. So I found a different one. But was still annoying. I was glad I was able to get my gluing done.

I chilled on the couch and waited for James to get home. I was feeling a lot better. Throat still hurt but I was doing a lot better. After James would get home the plan was to go drop off the chair from camp with Callie. And then we would get pizza and then home to make Chex rice crispies for Jess'd party tomorrow.

James would take a little longer then expected to get home but it's all good. I wasn't in a rush. But James was stressed about it. When they got home we left almost immediately and got over to Callie and Charlotte's apartment and got the heavy ass chair in their apartment.

We stayed to talk for a few minutes. Charlotte showed us her costume (she's going as a salt shaker to Cate and Ross's margarita and Jimmy buffet) and James said it was an incredible move and was very animated which I thought was great. I love when James's big personality shines.

We said goodbye and went to R house. I waited in the car and it took a bit but I wasnt in a rush. James would come back to the car and we went home.

They left me here though to go to the grocery store so we could make rice krispies for Jess's party. But we needed Chex so James ended up going to 3 stores and it took almost an hour for them to come home. And they are like radiating stress. They just knocked down all of our Christmas sprinkles and that was a big mess but they are so upset. I hate seeing them so upset. Especially when no one is mad at them! Everything is fine! I love them very much and just want them to be happy inside and I can't fix the inside sad.

Now though it is time to make Chex rice crispies. Even though we are using corn Chex. Im sure they will still be good. And seasonal.

Goodnight everyone. I hope you are feeling good. And no one is sick tomorrow.

[dollsonmain]

A body gripe:

I’ve been having kidney problems for a while and been generally unwell for a while and have had an eating disorder forever and it’s led to poor diet, etc. etc. and THAT’S led to hair loss.

Genetically, I’m probably going to be a wig granny. My father was bald in his late teens, my grandmother says her hair is almost as thin as his was, baldness runs in the family.

My hair is my favorite feature being satiny smooth, a dark, glittering, honey-gold that flashes red in the sun, and inexplicably no greys, yet, at 42, but it’s been thinning up top and I don’t like it. I can see too much scalp, there.

I joke that instead of turning grey, those hairs are falling out.

So recently I’ve kind of said fuck my kidneys (and my weight) because I’m either going to die early of kidney disease or die early of malnutrition and even though I am a struggling anorexic I don’t enjoy starving to death, and started eating more again. I still avoid the Big Bads [for kidneys] of condensed tomatoes, potatoes, and chocolate but I’ve been eating nuts, which I’m also not supposed to have.

Almost every day I’m having a big bowl that has something salty and crunchy at the bottom (like Cheetos, flavored popcorn, Cheez-It crackers, etc.), a pile of Rice Chex (my primary source of iron), and about a 1/4 c of mixed nuts on top.

I swear my hair is getting thicker again...

[sebastianshaw]

get to know the mun.

what's your phone wallpaper: My late mouse, The Fat Queen

last song you listened to: Gangnam Style by PSY

currently reading:  Under Heaven by Guy Gavriel Kay

last movie: Puss in Boots: The Last Wish

last show:  BBC’s Marie Antoinette

what are you wearing right now: Blue t-shirt, black shorts, guinea pig pattern socks

piercings/tattoos?: Two in each earlobe

glasses/contacts?: Glasses

last thing you ate: Banh mi sandwich and a handful of Chex cereal

favorite colors: Pale purples, soft pinks, white/black combos, cerulean blue

current obsession: Sadly, this guy right here -.-

do you have a crush right now?: Eternally in love with Ajak the Eternal. Also have many shameful thoughts about Haven >.>

favorite fictional character: Okay besides the fuckin OBVIOUS Marvel ones all y’all know I love already, I also really love Princess Irulan (Dune), Sara Crewe (A Little Princess), Sailor Jupiter (Sailor Moon), Dolores Haze (Lolita), Big Jack Horner (Puss in Boots: The Last Wish), most Disney Renaissance villains, and several women and girls from Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles (Akasha, Maharet, Claudia, Baby Jenks, Eudoxia, Zenobia, and also Petronia who is only a woman sometimes but my love all the time). Also, honorable mention to Lucrezia Borgia and Haseki Hurrem Sultan, they’re not fictional characters, but they’ve had a lot of media made about them. 

Tagged by: @hexsreality

Tagging: honestly just do it if you want

#out of shirt

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Seen Part III

Mary Sue woke early Sunday morning to her cell phone ringing; not the landline. She’d stayed up into the wee hours of the morning talking landline to landline with Joe Saturday after their magical reunion Friday. She jumped to answer the ringing despite her meager three hours of sleep, hoping it was Joe. It wasn’t. Joe wouldn’t cost her minutes when the odds were she was home. He’d always try home first. It was Steven. She expected to never hear from him again, and was disappointed he’d failed to meet those expectations. She briefly considered letting it go to voicemail, but was afraid he’d just keep calling if she did that, so she picked up. He didn’t let her say, “Hello.”

“OK, Ems. You made your point. I can’t believe you haven’t called at all since Friday.”

“Why’d you call the cell number?”

“No idea where you’d be.”

“At 7:30 on Sunday morning? I’ve barely slept. You’re burning minutes for me here.”

He ignored her concern with the potential increase in her monthly bill and continued, “I can’t believe you walked out on me over five bucks for bums.”

“I can. I wish I’d done it sooner. Way sooner. And did it ever occur to you that you abandoned me Friday night over a five dollar donation? You just...left me downtown alone because I did something pretty minor you disagreed with. What if something had happened to me?”

“That’s why I’m calling now.”

“I can feel the love, Steven. I thought it was clear enough Friday, but since I guess it’s not, it’s over. Don’t call me again. We’re not going out together anymore. Over.”

“What?!”

“Pretty sure ya heard me and again...tick tock on the minutes here. I’m hanging up...”

“Don’t! Please! I...I...”

“You what?”

“I’m...s-sorry? I...please don’t do this, Ems. What am I gonna say to Rodney and Clint and Mom and Dad and…?”

“Say whatever. They all don’t care about me at all anyway. Who cares? Goodbye.” She huffed and tossed and turned for a few minutes, unable to settle, and stared at the cradled cordless instead of her cell. “Don’t,” she said out loud to herself. She rolled away from the temptation but it still called to her. “He’s sleeping,” she said again, to her empty apartment. “I’m sure he’s sleeping. It’s intrusive and inconsiderate to call now,” she argued with herself as she scooted closer to the nightstand and grabbed the receiver. She looked at the alarm clock and excused herself somewhat. “It’s almost eight,” she conceded, dialing.

“Hmm? ‘Searly onna off day,” Joe’s groggy sleep-voice mumbled as a general answer on the third ring. She felt disgusted with herself that she’d woken him for essentially no reason besides she was awake and thinking about him.

“I’m sorry, Joey. I...”

“Rice Chex?! You alright?!” he asked, exponentially more alert. Worried.

“I’m...fine. I just...woke up early and...now I can’t go back to sleep and it was really dumb and selfish to call you but...I did. And now you’re...”

“I’m glad you called.”

“You are? But I woke you up. I mean...”

“Was thinking about you.”

“You were sleeping.”

“That doesn’t normally stop me from thinking about you. Seriously though? Was gonna call you...y’know a little later than this...and see if you wanted to do Sunday dinner at Nanna D’s. With me. Today.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. Is that...am I cutting too many corners here? Like...I’m counting the four years. To me, this isn’t day three. It’s day like...2500...”

“No, me too. I’m...cut the corners. Should I bring something?”

“Just you and an appetite for actual Italian food.”

“Well...done. This is...ok? Does your family even...like me still?”

“Uh...yes.”

“Did you tell them…? What did you tell them? Am I crashing Nanna D’s Sunday dinner?!”

“I talked to Mom yesterday before I called you and I said I might be bringing a date today. I didn’t tell her it’s you. I wanna surprise everybody.”

“What did she think about you bringing a date today when you mentioned it? Also...might?! You might be bringing a date? The hell, Joey?!” she laughed.

“I didn’t know if you’d wanna come, so I didn’t wanna give my mom anything without a ‘might.’ She was horrified about me bringing somebody, by the way. I’m sure all my aunts and cousins and Nanna D are melting down about it chopping tomatoes for Sunday gravy right now.”

“I thought you said...”

“They love you. They’ve always loved you. Mom was upset because...I...I haven’t brought anybody to Nanna D’s for dinner in four years.”

Mary Sue’s breath caught in her throat, supremely touched by what he’d said. She wanted to eloquently profess love for him back, but the only words she could form were, “Oh, Joey.”

“I can’t really...y’know...wine and dine you like you’ve probably been for...whatever, but I can take you with me to Nanna D’s. Food’s better. And free. And you’ll make Nanna’s...year. And Mom and Dad’s. And probably John’s. And...definitely mine. You’ll make my life.”

“Mine too. I kinda miss Nanna D.” Joe’s Nanna’s house was one of the few places Mary Sue had ever gone that felt like home. Home the way Paul Simon sang about it; the way instant coffee and long distance calling company commercials and Norman Rockwell paintings portrayed ‘home.’ Nanna D’s house was warm and welcoming and soothing like hot soup on a cold day. It always smelled like basil and oregano and fresh lemons and Nanna D hugged the same way Joe did. She probably taught Joe how to hug. She remembered one of her first dates with Steven when she’d arrived back here, so close to her past but still so far away, stressed out about really finishing a doctorate program; really getting on a tenure track to become a literature professor in college; really making something of herself. He’d taken her to see some movie where police officers pulled up in front of a downtown rowhouse with bright green outdoor carpeting up the five front stairs and covering the small square concrete block porch at the top, separating the steps from the entry door. A wave of comfort washed over her and she remembered the charge of happiness and connection. ‘That’s just like Nanna D’s house,’ she cheerfully noted to herself maybe a second before Steven began laughing. “What a trashy place. That’s not real. Nobody really puts astroturf on the front porch,” he snarked. Another time she should have just ended things with him. ‘Nanna D has astroturf on the front porch. That’s my home. That’s my family. That’s my Nanna,’ she thought in quiet rage, but of course she never said anything. Because in a way, Steven wasn’t wrong. The point of the movie scene was to show that it was a trashy place. Some run down, older, working class hovel in Detroit or Chicago or New York City...some harsh and believable ‘inner city-bad neighborhood’ setting for the privileged class to consume another violent crime drama. But it wasn’t a bad neighborhood to Mary Sue; it was Nanna D’s house; it was where she ate spaghetti and meatballs on Sundays with Her Joe and got all those hugs and heard all those loud, bawdy laughs from his big, loving family who loved her too.

“All the Disibios miss you. They’re gonna...my mom might cry. Be ready.” He yawned loudly.

“I should go and let you sleep...”

“You should call me when you think of me. Every single time. I’ll be happy every single time because you’re thinking about me. I don’t care if you’re panicked or proud or you don’t even have a reason. Whatever it is, I’ll be happy. Happy to help. Happy to listen. Happy to share what you wanna tell me. Happy to just hear your voice. I’m awake. I won’t go back to real sleep now, even if you let me go and I close my eyes in bed again. I’ll just think about you until it turns back into dreaming.”

“That’s...something to say,” she said breathlessly.

“I held it all in last time. That got me nowhere with nothing. I’m saying it now.”

“I’m gonna say it now too.”

“I’ll come get you at about four...”

“I’ll come get you. It’s silly for you to drive here and then drive all the way back to...”

“You’re not coming here to my place.”

“You’re serious about that? So it’s small and older. Who cares? I don’t buy ‘bad neighborhood.’ My neighborhood is probably full of drugs and sex offenders too. It’s right off a college campus and sometimes you can hear the stupid parties from Greek Life houses. You’re not ashamed of where you live now after all the shit we’ve already been through with…?”

“No. And now I don’t want you at your place alone either, honestly. I know you...I don’t want you coming here. Especially not without me with you. I’m happy to come pick you up.” It seemed like a small difference; Joe’s insistence on keeping her safe; taking care of her; looking out for her, but it wasn’t small.

“Okay. I’ll...I’ll cook for you maybe. Soon. Tuesday? Monday I assume will be...exhausting for us both at work since...”

“I’ll be there Tuesday. And at four. Don’t know why you’re up, but you need more sleep for Nanna D’s. It’s gonna be a lot. Think you could take a nap now before four if…?”

“Can you?”

“I’m kinda eager to.”

“I’m so sorry I woke you up. I knew it was...”

“I’m not sorry you woke me up. Will just make getting back to that dream more vivid.”

“I see,” she coyly replied. “Yeah, I can probably take a nap.”

“Sweet dreams, My Rice Chex.”

***

“Look who I found playing music on the street at night with my punk friends, Mom...” Joe tormented his mother, moving aside to display Mary Sue upon arrival at his grandmother’s house.

“Omigod, Joey! Is that our girl?!” his mother squealed. “Ma, it’s our Mary Sue! Look at her! Johnny, look at her!” she called to Joe’s grandmother and his father in separate parts of the house.

“I see her, dollbaby,” Joe’s dad replied with a satiated grin to his wife, who, predictably, had begun to cry. She hugged Mary Sue and then stood back at arm’s length and put her straightened fingers out to cradle Mary Sue’s chin.

“Look at you,” she said.

“It’s...it’s so good to see you,” Mary Sue sniffed, softly crying and wiping rogue tears from her cheeks before they touched Joe’s mother’s hands.

“Don’t you cry, sweetheart. Omigod. Joey, you evil little shit. How do you not tell your mother you’re bringing Mary Sue to dinner? Ma is gonna...”

Nanna D shuffled out of the kitchen with a dishtowel on her shoulder. She looked Mary Sue over with a Mona Lisa smile. “This is heaven for my Joey, I know,” she murmured into Mary Sue’s ear, engulfing her in one of those Nanna D hugs. “How is it for you, love?”

“Better than that, Mrs. Disibio.”

“Why would you call me Mrs. Disibio?”

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“The words.” Nanna D’s smile grew and she patted Mary Sue’s face. “You’re not being that big old word, love. Are you in town to see your family?”

“She’s living by the college, Nanna. Graduate school. Is here now. She’s gonna be a professor. Of books. In like a year or so. Now the studyin’ is really her writing a big...I mean, book, almost, right? About books?” Joe explained to his grandmother, but really his whole family, beaming with pride and turning to Mary Sue for authentication.

“Yeah, that’s about it, Nanna,” she sighed.

“You shouldn’t miss anymore Sundays, then,” Nanna D gently commanded, with the clear implication that she considered the previous four years of absences as Mary Sue being unfortunately and unavoidably busy.

“I won’t miss anymore if Joey wants me to be here.”

“He definitely does,” Joe said.

They spent the evening with the Disibio family, Mary Sue soaking up the timeless feeling of home and Joe having his patience and loyalty validated, looking at her snapping right into the void in his heart perfectly. All the people he loved the most were in the same room while they ate big plates of carbonara and ravioli with Nanna D’s slow cooked red sauce, just like they had been five years in the past, when Joe felt like his life was the best. Only it was more now; better now. Now Mary Sue wasn’t obliging him, and she didn’t feel trapped, and she was on her own way. She just steered so his family was a frequent stop; so he was part of the journey; maybe he was even the destination. After eating, Mary Sue went into the kitchen with the Disibios to clean up and then out to what Nanna D called ‘the family room’ to sit next to Joe. He couldn’t stop looking at her with wide, dancing eyes; couldn’t help reaching out to comb through the ends of her hair or hold her hand, or stretch an arm around her, or rest his palm on her knee. She tired a bit, from so much social connection after years of stagnation, and a big carbohydrate loaded meal, and rested her cheek on his shoulder. That’s when Joe’s mother started digging in her purse.

“Aw, Jesus, Mom. No. Not the camera,” Joe begged.

“We don’t have any photos of you with Mary Sue. We didn’t have a camera and then...and you look just like when...except you need to get rid of the scruff on your face but…” Joe’s mother didn’t want to say her entire thought process and motivation out loud, but Joe could figure her out. She wanted a photo in case it was the last time. She didn’t even have a photo from the last ‘last time,’ and she didn’t want that to happen again. It was an insurance policy. Instead she continued to Mary Sue, “Joey and John got me this fancy camera last Mother’s Day and now they both lose their shit whenever I try and use it. It’s so nice, Mary. It shows you the pictures on this screen right after you take ‘em. And if somebody sneezed or blinked or somethin’, you can just delete it and take it over. A do-over. Ya didn’t useta get those with takin’ pictures. Lemme get one-a you with Joey there. Your pretty face. See if you can get ‘im to shave that beard...”

***

“Sure you don’t wanna go out?” Joe asked as he shrugged off his jacket inside Mary Sue’s apartment door upon his Tuesday night arrival.

“I’m actually pretty sick of going out.”

“Shit, you used to wanna go out as much as you could.”

“That was Old Mary Sue. Now I’ve been out. It’s all...not worth it. I’m excited to hang out with you here. Make dinner and just...have you here. I’d so rather be on the roof of your truck, pirating a live baseball game, than anything I’ve done out in the past four years.”

“I loved doing that with you. And Nanna D’s dinners. And working at the chili parlor. And just hanging out in Jen’s mom’s basement. Doing...nothing. But I thought you hated it.”

“I thought I did too, but I really loved it. That last guy? We always went out with some of his friends and they all told all these glory days stories about concerts and beach trips on spring breaks and ski trips on winter ones and shit. And they’d razz me until I eventually just stopped talking altogether because all my stories were sitting in someone’s car in a parking lot or sitting in someone’s basement or having dinner at someone’s house. Like connection didn’t count to them unless it was out in public for other people to see, spending money. But it dawned on me that they weren’t connecting doing any of that shit. It was stuff to buy and do with their time to feign or avoid connecting. They do stuff so they can say they did it to someone else. It’s like they don’t actually experience anything. They just go places to collect ticket stubs and take pictures to prove they were there. I miss just...being with you. Seeing you. I love talking on the phone with you and all, but now I just...wanna see you all the time.”

“I wish I could say that could be arranged, but I gotta work, and so do...you? I assume you’re working. Right? You gotta be to live here and not back with your folks, commuting. And you made quiche for dinner...”

“I get my grad school candidate/assistant professor’s stipend. That’s what pays for all the luxury you see,” she kidded. “And I don’t think I could move home. Like I don’t think Mom and Dad would...this was the goal of their life. For me to not live with them anymore. Right? Also, quiche is just scrambled eggs with cheese and chopped up leftovers baked in a grocery store frozen pie shell. All those country clubs and snooty restaurants with dress codes and shit are actually kinda cheaping out. Telling you. Rich people are cheap unless they think they’re impressing somebody by spending.”

Joe felt a little ache for her, talking about her parents not wanting her living back home. They’d never been as close as his family, and Mary Sue often tried to shield him from the darker parts of her life at home, but he knew enough to know there were dark parts. She liked to say how much her family loved her, but he was fairly certain she was saying it to convince herself it was real. They only showed up for her when she did something to fulfill some big expectation they had of her. Her family was the origin story of why she was always working so hard to prove herself; worthy, deserving, good, better, more. The only pleasure Joe ever saw her get from connection with her own family was when she did something they could point at and use to prove they were worthy, deserving, good, better, more, because they had to be if she did that thing; they made her, after all. He answered everything she’d said except that part, because he didn’t have an answer. “You joke, but you have an actual thermostat. I have steam heat and a window A/C unit. And maybe the ingredients are common, but I am damn near certain I’d fuck up a quiche. It kind of is luxury. And they’re paying you to go to school?!” he laughed, hoping for playful banter instead of heavy thoughts about her family.

“If you go to school long enough and are pretty good at it, they start paying you to go.”

“I’ve heard something like that about community college. Go long enough they make you the teacher. But...” He was relieved for the wisecracks, and took a seat at her tiny dining table and dug into his dinner as soon as she sat down too.

“Oh, it works that way with all college, actually. Just with a traditional university, you either have to develop an anxiety disorder trying to keep a scholarship, or shoulder like a hundred grand of debt for...most if not all of the rest of your life in order to get paid enough to live in this apartment.”

“So My Smarty Rice Chex won’t have the debt cloud because of the scholarship. And when the thesis is finally finished, then you’re a what?”

“Hopefully I get an associate professorship in American literature.”

“Associate Professorship. Professor Rice.”

“Doctor Rice. Just not that kind of doctor.”

“I’m prouda you. You really...did it.”

“Almost.”

“No, it’s gonna happen. Why would you...you sure you wanna...with me?”

“Joey. Of course I’m sure. I...um...are you...not sure about this?”

“I’m still kinda scared I’m not enough. I don’t have plans to become...anything more or better...than me.”

“Good. I like My Joe as is.”

“Before...”

“I was really really wrong before. I’m different now. I know what more and better is. I know if you want more and better, it’s not somewhere else. You can’t go out and find it. You make it at home.”

“That’s...something to say.” He wiped his hands and mouth on his napkin and smiled across the table at her.

“Told My Joe I was saying it now.”

“And you are.” She stood to clear dishes and clean up and he hovered around her to help, but she refused him.

“Just go...I dunno. I’ll clean up. And then I’ll come out and… You wanna...stay tonight?”

“That’s...wow, Rice Chex, you’re really saying it now,” he nervously chuckled from her sofa.

“You...don’t wanna…?” she stuttered with obvious disappointment and embarrassment.

“Oh, no. That’s not...I like...incredibly a lot want to. It’s just...I gotta go to work in the morning and you probably do too, and if I start...if we...uh...I can see me making some unwise decisions about tomorrow if I stay here tonight.”

“OK. Not tonight. I get it. I guess.”

“I honestly can’t even believe you asked,” he snickered.

“Well, fortune rewards the bold.”

“Is that what it does? What book’s that out of?”

“It’s an old Latin translation that’s been quoted all over the place for centuries. It’s probably in a few books. It means...”

“I know what it means. It means Mary Sue Rice ditches rides to tip street trumpet players and then asks them to spend the night with her.”

“And then she gets to talk to the trumpet player every day and see him a lot and has a little prospect off on the horizon in the distance that he’ll stay all night. Someday. Hopefully soon. Maybe someday he’ll even...just...never leave. Ever.”

“That’s bold alright.”

“Those are some impressive rewards.” He smirked at her, his ego inflated.

“Maybe someday, he will just never leave.”

“Maybe someday, he’ll get a house with me that has a carport or a garage to park Ol’ Cherry in and he’ll play La Vie En Rose on that trumpet at two o’clock some Saturday afternoon. And no one will care. Except her. She’ll care. She loves that song. She loves hearing him play it.”

“That sounds like a nice someday. Sounds like he’s getting the rewards for her being bold.”

“So? Maybe she thinks he deserves a lot more rewards than he gets. Maybe someday in that house, he’ll teach their kid to play La Vie En Rose on the trumpet at two o’clock some Saturday afternoon...”

“Alright on that one? No.”

“No?” The smarting letdown showed on her face until he diagrammed his reasoning.

“If I got lucky enough to have a someday that gives me ‘our kid?’ Our kid gets real music lessons. I’ll work two, three jobs if our kid wants to play music. So they can have real lessons. Learn how to read music. Sit right. Alla that.”

“Just because you didn’t get the formal education doesn’t make you...less...Joey. Believe me, I know without a doubt that formal education doesn’t make anybody more or better. That’s probably the most important thing I learned in college.”

“Formal education gets you options. If our kid wants to make a life outta music, formal education gives them that option. I’m not mad I didn’t get it. It wasn’t something my family...but...our kid will have that option. Our kid won’t have to drive a forklift. Or wait tables at the chili parlor. They can. But they can also be a college book professor or first chair at the Cincinnati Symphony playing...something. Or maybe they’ll play the trumpet in the Great Funk Revival of 2025 or something. You aren’t the only one who learned important stuff while you were in college.”

She’d finished in the kitchen, putting things away and wiping up mess, and joined him. She briefly thought of sitting on his lap but suddenly got shy. “You know...if there’s a someday where we get ‘our kid?’ I’m...I mean, part of that someday is that I’m a tenured literature professor. And that means...you wouldn’t have to work two or three jobs. You might not even have to work one.”

“What did I ever do to deserve that kinda someday?”

“You’re My Joe.” He shook his head and closed his eyes and threaded his fingers into her hair to kiss her. They reclined, him over her, a tangle of limbs and racing heartbeats. “If you’re not gonna stay, can I see you again tomorrow?” she daringly panted.

“You really…?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come over after work. I’ll bring over...”

“You. I’ll figure out food. Just bring over you. Your face. Your voice. Your hands. You.”

“I can do that.” He smiled, gratified and eased.

“And Thursday.” They adjusted to a more wholesome version of enmeshed with one another and she crinkled his tshirt in her fists, under his unbuttoned flannel shirt.

“Thursday I gotta bring something. Fried chicken from Guster’s? Burgers?”

“I don’t think I’ve had Guster’s fried chicken in...”

“Four years? Yeah, that’s Thursday then. Before you say Friday, I can’t. Will’s trying to collect some money to buy an engagement ring for his girl, so we’ve been...I promised like five Friday nights and two Saturday’s in the next six weeks. I can’t just...”

“Of course you can’t skip that. You can’t skip it for you. You have to play. I’ll be alright.”

“It’s not like we won’t see each other again. Right?”

“Right.”

***

“That smells so goooood,” Mary Sue moaned opening the door to Joe with hot fried chicken and biscuits.

“None of the college guys brought you Guster’s? None of them? Amateurs.” They each took seats and hungrily grabbed the food from the paper bag, devouring it with their eyes and noses before getting it into their mouths.

“They were amateurs,” she said as daintily as possible with a mouthful of chicken thigh. “But even if they would have known the ground they could gain with Guster’s fried chicken, they wouldn’t have brought it here. None of them have even been inside the apartment.”

“What?!” Joe nearly choked on his mashed potatoes.

“The only men who’ve been inside the apartment are my dad and Andy. I guess you can count Andy as a man now that he’s eighteen.”

“Didn’t you say you went out with whatsisface for like two years? He never came to your apartment? Ever? How’s that even possible?”

“I drove to his place and then we’d go out. He still lived at home with his parents. In a goddam mansion. Like, they would never call it a mansion, and his parents complained about the neighborhood and the upkeep on the house and shit, but like...it was a mansion, Joey. Six bedrooms, four baths, four car garage for three people. They had this...you know that cobalt blue blown glass chandelier over the information desk at the art museum?”

“Yeah...” Joe had been to the Cincinnati Art Museum about a hundred times; every time with Mary Sue. It was free with donation. Mary Sue put dollar bills in the box when she had them and counted found change when she didn’t. He loved the museum because it was one of her favorite places to be. Somewhere they could go and talk and be together and look at beautiful things people throughout history created without being expected to buy something with money they didn’t have.

“His house has a chandelier that big in the foyer. First of all they have a foyer and they call it a foyer without even thinking it’s strange they’re using the word foyer. But past that, they have this huge fucking crystal chandelier hanging in it. So the first time I go in there, I said, ‘Wow,’ out loud, because like...wow. Right? And Steven starts in on how much of a pain in the ass it is and they have to hire this specialty company to clean it twice a year. The cleaning bill was five thousand dollars. Just the cleaning bill. For the chandelier. Which they paid two of in a year. So that’s ten thousand dollars...”

“If I added up the vehicles of all my immediate family members, I think it’d still be less than ten grand.”

“Exactly. So I’m gonna invite that guy to my apartment? He shit on my car. He shit on my clothes...”

“Your clothes?! How…? You look...well you look like you don’t belong with a schmuck like me; that’s for sure...”

“You’re not a schmuck. He is though. He shit on taking me to the art museum. Both because it’s technically free and also because only nerds who are trying to hard to impress people actually go to museums. Liking and appreciating anything at all seemed to be a reason to make fun of me.”

“Your folks ever meet that guy?”

“No way! My place is nicer than their place!”

“But your parents...”

“’Whatever it takes to fit in there, Mary Sue. Make something of yourself...’”

“So they’re fine that you’re dating some dumb fucker who left you downtown without a ride as long as it means maybe someday you can live in a house that has a chandelier that costs more than my Nanna’s entire house? That’s...like...it’s pissing me off, Rice Chex.”

“I get it, obviously. It pisses me off too, but it’s...it’s not worth you getting...who cares? About...any of them? They don’t care about me. They think sending me into that world and making me feel shitty for ever coming back home is somehow the best thing they could have done for me. You’re here. You’d never leave me downtown. You’re...proud of me.”

“Of course I am. I think they’re all idiots for making you feel like...you feel. You don’t have anything to prove to me, Rice Chex. You never have, you know? I already knew in tenth grade you were better than all the rest of these shitheads.”

“I just wanna be good enough for you.”

“You passed that up a long time ago. You started out too good for me. That scares the shit outta me all the time I’m with you now.”

“You’re better than all the rest of those shitheads. I wasn’t smart enough to know that in tenth grade, but I know it now.” She licked the grease from her fingers and crumpled up a couple of napkins, turning abashedly away from him.

“Oh no, I brought dinner this time, I’m cleaning it up. It’s not even any work,” he said, crunching chicken bones and trash into the emptied bag and tossing it into her kitchen wastebasket. She remained at the dining table, her knees curled to her chest in the chair, closing herself in with folded arms, and staring again at the center of the table. “Hey,” he said, lifting her chin to look him in the eyes after he washed his hands at the kitchen sink. “I’ve never felt anything but lucky that you were ever a part of my life. You’ve done nothing but make my life better. With or without college. Whatever you drove. Wherever you lived. Even when we weren’t even… You’re My Rice Chex. And if somebody...anybody else thinks you need to...well, they’re just fucking wrong.”

“I really wish you were staying tonight.”

“I do too. I got a long day tomorrow though. Work then...y’know...”

“Yeah, I know. La Vie En Rose.”

***

Mary Sue flipped through endless basic cable channels, wholly dissatisfied with the offerings. She didn’t wish she was out; she wished Joe was in with her. Then it would cease to matter what was on television; even if it was all garbage, they’d have fun watching it together. Or not watching it together. She used to judge people she knew for moving in with partners too quickly. What if it didn’t work out? How can you trust them? Is the break in expenses really worth the potential future damage? But she wanted to ask Joe to live with her now, after what substantially amounted to a week together to anyone on the outside of what she was in. She didn’t care about what was on the outside anymore. She felt as though she’d spent her whole life on the outside, except with Joe. And the four years outside with him were more than enough for a lifetime. She wanted back in. She wanted in forever. She wanted to be inside, with Joe, forever. But right now, she accepted that he was out.

She closed her eyes and imagined him setting up on Main and 9th to play; his long legs and heavy boots sprawled wide, his shoulders touching the top of the flimsy chair back, slunk to the edge of the seat to camouflage his height, his feet stationed around the money. She saw those nimble hands holding the trumpet to those strong, soft lips to play. She sighed. She’d seen him play outside once, and for most of her observation she didn’t even know it was him, and she’d already tattooed the imagery of him into her head to study in fantasy. She loved his hands; she loved his lips; she loved those long legs; his shoulders; his everything. She returned to his fingers and lips. He really had such gorgeous lips; slender, powerful fingers. She wanted them on her now, but he was playing music now, so she reanimated the past. She rewound the goodbye kisses she’d received since the previous Friday night and then rewound further to when they’d gone further when they were younger. Joe was the only man Mary Sue ever wanted to touch her. She’d allowed others to, but they were always fumbling and hurried, and either coarse and stingy or too faint and fearful and delicate. Joe was her first and her best, which she knew was rare when it came to lovemaking, especially when first wasn’t also ‘only.’ But that was Joe. First and best and rare. Anyone could see the kind of lover he was if they paid attention to how he handled any instrument he played. Careful and relaxed and strong and gentle, but the best part of Joe was his instincts, fed by a keen ear. He listened. He saw. He paid attention. And without needing to read the notes and timing, he could expertly play all the songs she wanted to hear. She thought of their first time together and how careful he’d been without being faint and fearful and delicate. She thought of every time they were together. She lost herself for probably a few hours, in a nebulous liminal space between being awake and asleep, dreaming of Joe and his lips and his fingers and his legs and shoulders and voice, and the way he touched her and held her, and her thoughts were so lively and real, she could almost feel him there with her when he wasn’t.

She lunged for her phone. It startled her. She’d been fairly zoned out and nearly asleep on the couch with the television on. “Can I see you? I know it's late, but can I see you...tonight?”

“Where are you?” she chirped, full of butterflies that it was Joe. She began pacing in front of the couch, too wired from her reverie and hearing Joe’s voice to hold still any longer.

She started for her bedroom to find suitable attire for a date when she heard an abrupt knock on her door. She eyeballed the peephole. It was Joe on his cell phone. He looked great. More than great. Better than great. She looked terrible. She was watching Seinfeld reruns on cable in faded pink sweats and bunny slippers. She opened the door anyway. They simultaneously hung up their phones.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Been missing you. Come in, I guess. Even though I look like this now.”

“You look lovely,” he said, walking purposefully too close to her, making sure he touched her. “La Vie En Rose.”

“You're a liar.” She closed the door and started back to the living room.

“It's never mattered what you're wearing. You're still the best thing in the room to look at. Did you really miss me?” he said, facing her. He brushed her messy hair away from her face.

“Yes, I did,” she replied, pressing her hand over his on her cheek. She placed her other hand gingerly to the side of his face. “You shaved your beard,” she gratuitously stated. She skated over his newly smooth skin with her fingertips. He looked more familiar, like Her Joe, but somehow also brand new without the beard. He smelled good. She liked the way he smelled even straight from a day of warehouse work, because he was Her Joe, but this was a clean good. A freshly showered and shaved good.

“Better to see me with, my dear. Are you seeing anyone right now?” he needlessly asked.

“Just you.”

“I didn’t mean extremely literally...”

“I know. There’s just you. You’re the only...I haven’t had much luck seeing people.”

“I can't really understand that, actually. I don't understand why you're home on a Friday night. Home alone, anyway. You were out last weekend...”

“Well, it was stupid of me to be out last weekend. Stupid people. Stupid place...”

“I’m glad you were. You made it not a stupid place. If you’re there, it can’t be stupid. I missed you too, Rice Chex. Honestly thought I’d never see you again.”

“Here I am. You’re seeing a lot of me now. And I'm not home alone anymore. You're here, keeping me from falling asleep on the couch with my bunny slippers and my old sitcoms.”

“The bunny slippers are making it kinda hard to control myself.”

“You showing up here is making it hard to control myself. Was...was...thinking about you. A lot. Before you called.”

“Were ya now? I was thinking about you a lot while I was playing tonight. I wasn’t thinking about the bunny slippers though. Those are...man. I’d have probably made some sour notes or maybe even forgotten where I was if I knew about those,” he kidded. “What were you thinking about me?”

“How much I love your lips.” He blushed, and a rascally, open mouthed smirk painted his face. He quite deliberately ran his tongue across his lips. “And you’re...you look like...never seen you look like this before.” He was wearing what seemed to be a tailored three piece suit, still no tie, though. And classic wingtips, shined to a high gloss. And a thick leather strap over one shoulder.

“You like it?”

“I mean...yes. It’s probably...similar to your bunny slippers problem.”

“I can clean up. Wanted to show you I can look like I belong...with you. Wherever you go.”

“Did you wear...this...to play with...you wore this out to play on the street?”

“No. I wore this to come see My Rice Chex.”

“What's that for?” She nodded suspiciously toward the instrument case slung over his shoulder. She felt her face flush and her body hum. Just being that close to Joe was arousing, but he’d purposefully come for her. With the guitar. The extravagant, wasteful, impractical...romantic...guitar.

“You're gonna suck all the romance out of this, huh?” he playfully asked as he took the guitar out.

“Watch how loud you strum that thing. I live an apartment just like you, you know. We’re not out on the corner of Main and 9th right now.” She attempted a stern scolding but it came out in a nervous, thrilled chime. “Tell me, do you think it'd be alright,” he began singing, quietly, just as she asked. “If I could just crash here tonight? You can see I'm in no shape for driving, and anyway, I've got no place to go. And you know, it might not be that bad. You were the best I ever had. If I hadn't blown the whole thing years ago, I might not be alone...” He could tell she wanted to say something, so filled with unusual optimism, he just played and stopped singing.

“You’re here. You’re here and I can’t believe you’re singing to me and...”

He started singing again, “The past is gone, but something might be found to take it's place, Hey Jealousy!”

“Joey, please,” she said over his quiet guitar playing.“Stop.” She stretched her fingers over his guitar strings, making the notes go flat.

“I thought about this every day since last Friday night. Every time I hear this song, I think about you. Practically since fucking 1992 when it came out, even though you didn’t even kiss me until 1995. I really miss you.”

“This is the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me. I mean, except for last Friday. Which was you too. I’m the one who ruined everything...selfish and short-sighted and...fucking...” She shook her head at herself because she was unable to come up with the right Future Literature Professor synonym for ‘uppity asshole.’

“We'll make it work this time.” He carefully placed the guitar back in its case and reached out for her hand with confidence.

“It's late. And I messed up so bad then. And you're so...way too good for me now...”

“What?! Uneducated hometown boyfriend here. You’re about to become a university literature professor and you got real furniture and glass glasses and shit in your apartment...”

“From IKEA...”

“Still. You DO have more. And better. Like...that was...correct...and...Rice Chex I think you got everything backwards here. But that’s fine. Be backwards. We can still make it work. It'll be different now that you're almost out of school and you’re...here. You’re choosing...me. On purpose. I won't have anything to be jealous about.”

“You weren’t jealous.”

“I was. You were right. I was jealous and scared I’d lose you, so I just went and made sure it happened. Like a fool.”

“Well, you were right too, though. You were right first, actually. I was ashamed. Of my family, where I came from, of the school I went to, my situation...of myself...like...why do you always have to be RIGHT?” she asked after a long, cumbersome lull. He smiled and rested his forehead against hers.

“To piss you off.”

“Well you are SO good at it. Still!” He cracked a bigger smile.

“Rice Chex, let me ask you something...”

“OK. Go ahead.”

“If I woulda sang 'La Vie En Rose' instead....”

“Oh, I’d have gone right to bed with you,” she teased.

“You hurt me,” he replied with humor and sarcasm in his voice, but sincerity in his heart. He closed his eyes in a deliberate blink and flinched a little, like he was really taking a hit, but kept smiling.

“Hey?” She elbowed him softly in the ribs.

“Yes, Miss Rice?” He returned her familiar with counterfeit formality.

“You can crash here tonight.”

“You gonna go to bed with me anyway?” he chuckled.

“Yeah. Unless that was just...exaggerated musical romance.”

“I definitely meant it. You’re not ashamed to tell people you’re with a warehouse worker-slash-street performer? That he’s your high school flame? From your working class neighborhood? Roping you into an ordinary life that might end up right back where you started?”

“Of course not. I’m not ever gonna be ashamed again of what makes me happy. Of what I love.”

“You love me?”

“Always have.”

“I love you too, Rice Chex. Always have. But what about me could make you happy?”

“You see me.”

#see part I's tags please #thank you for reading

[iridescent-x-pixie]

⚠️☠⚠️☠⚠️

TW:

eating issues, Food mentions, toxic mentality.

⚠️☠⚠️☠⚠️

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸💀Food log:💀🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

( >_<)

Madras curry with beef mince n plain rice

670 cals

Costa coffee with oat milk

231 cals

Cocoa happy hippo biscuit, x2. 246 cals

1140 cal total

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Had a mini binge on the happy hippos I feel like a very unhappy hippo ( - _ - )

gonna fast for nxt 2 days gonna avoid ppl offering me food. I've felt bloated from ibs past few days also so tht just sucks but I have fasted for like two days prior to 2day so I'm hoping I'll see progress.

B4 being termed I was doing 10k each day, thts still been pretty easy to keep up but had 2 days off cos I was sick but I'm bk to feeling less gut ache n done 5k today gonna get another 5 on my nxt walk.

I'll b posting some body chex soon, they help me keep accountable to ms, otherwise I'll be going insane n having a horrid week if I dont at least feel like I've dropped a size by nxt 2 week 🙃

hope it takes longer for me to get termed this time round honestly past caring but I miss teh moots pls find me guys I was iridescent-x-wings <3

#thinnspi #ana trigger #th1n$po #caloric restriction #i wanna be small #only pr0 for tags #disordered eating thoughts #4norexi4 #starv1ng #tw weight #tw 3d #tw eating issues #3at1ng d1s0rd3r #sk1nny legs #sk1nny aesthetic #tw ed in the tags #ed no sheeran #ed not ed sheeran #th1gh gap #th11n$p0 #th17 #it's not as simple as just eating #i will be sk1nny #i wish i was thinner #i want to be small

[shrapnelstars]

Ash on GTLive freaking out over the concept of sprinkling sugar over bland cereals in sending me. Is the practice that uncommon? XD

Something like regular corn flakes, cheerios, rice krispies, oatmeal, cream of wheat, or any "plain" cereal, you went to the cupboard, got a spoon of sugar, and sprinkled it on the cereal to punch it up. You could also do the same with a spoonful of cinnamon.

It's not something I do now, but it's what my mom and dad taught me as a kid whenever the cereal they brought home was a plain one.

Nowadays, even bland/plain cereals seem to be pre-sweetened now, so you don't have to do that. But when a cereal back then was plain, it was PLAIN. You had to either sprinkle sugar or cut up fresh strawberries and bananas and drop them in. Fresh fruit in cereal is based.

My favorite cereal growing up was Kix, and you didn't have to add anything to it. It was just sweet enough to be perfect. Same with Captain Crunch, and then obviously stuff like froot loops and cookie crisp didn't need any sweetener.

Me personally, I never liked cereals that were too sweet. I didn't like ones like Lucky Charms or Frosted Flakes. I preferred ones that I could add a touch of sugar to, or ones that were just sweet enough to be pleasant. Coco Puffs, Kix, Wheaties, Life, Chex, and Reese's Puffs are right in that range and are my favorites. I also like the various Kashi shredded wheat flavors.

EDIT: Mat just stated he's a Life chad. Awesome.

EDIT2: Ash said they liked Raisin Bran. That's another one that was too sweet for me, oddly enough.

#food #just thinking

[toxicpartnerquotes]

I had COVID. I'm sorry my grocery shopping wasn't up to snuff this week. Sir, we have: eggo waffles, a pound of pastrami, a pound of turkey lunch meat, a brick of American cheese, 2 loaves of wonder bread, 4 dozen eggs and 5 cartons of soy milk, rice crispys, chexs, and I believe also grapenuts. We have instant oatmeal packets, frozen salmon steaks, frozen chicken nuggets. Like, there's no room in the freezer right now. That is how much food we have at the moment. This doesn't even count the food in the pantry.

#gaslighting #narcissistic abuse survivor #toxic ex quotes #toxic relationship

[catsbootleg]

★ I almost forgot, but, dear mutuals and followers, would you like to hear the most L take I have heard lately? ★

a fairly good friend of mine told me in a fun survey that I made

that my dear papyrus's outfit is an "L"

I do not care whatever negative opinions she also had (in which, some were right, like her disdain at my favorite cereal being rice chex), that one just got me irritated and butthurt for obvious reasons lol

like. what do you mean his outfit is an L??? fuck you I love his short-short length armor.

and then she's all like "well he could NOT go out in public like that"

whateverrrr girl.

I love him AND his outfit. ♥︎

boo you he has better fashion taste than you /hj

...on a different note, would you like the survey?

#f/o stuff #possible survey #bad takes #f/o rant #rant #rambles #bad takes made by friends for that matter #good fashion sense #beautiful #i am not satirically bitter about her opinions at all. not one bit. #*throws tomatoes*

[agaggleoffandoms]

This morning I took out the trash and there was a crow in the dumpster that I didn't see until I basically threw the bag on top of him. He was startled, I was startled. Also, I can't be known as the human who almost crushed one of them with trash, so I had to make an offering. I think the murder liked the rice chex cereal. Hopefully this means we're good now.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2895

good god i am always fucking tired!!! why!!!

today was EXCITING.

... but not necessarily in a fun way, though.

got up, dressed, brought joel to work, stopped for pastries, went to work, like usual. i waited around for a while, and i worked with a student for a while, and then the excitement started.

someone from the IT desk came over. he just stood there for a minute. he asked one of the other tutors if she was going.

(going? going where??)

then the library director also came around and said, "there's apparently been a security issue and they're asking us to evacuate the building and go somewhere at least 300 feet away from the building. now."

so i grabbed my shit and walked out with everyone else. we went to the far parking lot, where i was finally able to check my email and see the notification about the evacuation drill.

(oh. okay. it's just a drill. we should be let back in soon, then.)

thankfully, it was a nice day out. a little toasty, but still nice. i had my snacks with me, so i cracked a can of lemonade and had some rice chex while we waited.

about twenty minutes passed. and then someone came around and said, "they aren't letting us back in. if you have your stuff, they're telling you to go."

(wait a minute. isn't this a drill?)

another email came in.

this time, the subject line didn't say "drill."

(oh boy.)

i had all of my belongings, so i took myself and went home. i was gonna take a nap because i was tired as shit.

i ended up reading first and then napping, but then i slept through my alarms and only woke up to a phone call from joel about 10 past 5, after i was supposed to be there to pick him up.

then i checked my email again.

another message.

apparently, there had been a bomb threat made to a school with the same name in a different state, but the room numbers didn't match their campus. so they called us, and our city police department, and we evacuated. nothing was found, so everything ended up being fine.

anyway, after all that excitement, joel got back home because daniel brought him home, and we ordered five guys, and his friends came over, and i played minecraft with andrew for a while. it was fun.

now joel and i are in bed, it's late, and we're both exhausted. i think i'll need a nap tomorrow, too.

sheesh.

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #2000s #2800s #sunshine boy #tw threats #tw safety threat

[fractallogic]

It was such a good idea to doodle kiwi birds and kiwi fruits for a month

I love them both

#also I’ve had the strongest craving for kiwi fruit for like... six weeks #and not even the taste of the fruit but more the texture??? #the seeds! are weird! #the fruit! is weird! #I’m gonna go to Harrisburg for the costco and the bank whenever cases stop being so fucking high #and get one of those big containers of kiwis #and another 30-pack of spindrift #and more of that microwaveable sticky rice that happens to be the perfect size for a snack #and maybe they’ll have some giant bags of Chex mix

[dollsonmain]

That actually worked really well. I sliced and boiled the remaining potato and added some diced dry onion (out of fresh) near the end, drained and returned to pot, then sorted the meat out of the leftovers and dumped the remainder in the pot (meat back in fridge). Assessed and added a big splash of milk, then also some water. Added about 4tbl of “southwest chipotle” salt free spice blend from Aldi and an equal amount cumin. Also added about 1.5c of the wheat chex cereal because no one’s going to eat it.

When it came to a boil turned off the heat, let it stop bubbling, and hit it with the immersion blender.

It’s slighty too runny, very ugly mashed potatoes then I added the meat back in and stirred it a lot. So lumpy slightly runny brown mashed potatoes but the lumps are tender meat bits.

It’s actually like.... really really good, now. I could have waited until the boys got home if I’d just kept them out of the kitchen.

I wanted to add more shredded cheese but it’s still salty enough as it is.

I have no idea how to serve this, though. On toast maybe... If I had toastable bread.

At first I was thinking to make a much thinner cream soup or sauce and then put it over rice but rice and potato is a lot of starch. That Guy might do it anyway. It would help with the saltiness some more.

[lilpuppiepaws]

🌱snack time!🌱

when i first started regressing, i had a hard time figuring out what snacks n foods would be good for me when small! here’s a list of yummy foods based on age that might help if you have the same issue! <3

🍓🧃🍓🧃🍓🧃🍓🧃🍓🧃🍓🧃🍓🧃🍓🧃🍓🧃

4-7 months: milk, banana baby food (i swear it’s yummy xD), n yogurt/pudding!

8-12 months: the above foods, scrambled eggs, diced fruits (like bananas, strawberries, and other soft fruits), baby puffs, yogurt melts, and apple sauce!

2-3 years: the above foods, oatmeal, pancakes (cut up), avocado, gold fish, raisins, cookies, go-gurts, pasta, popsicles, teddy graham’s, juice, all fruits, cereal, and baby carrots,!

4-6 years: the above foods, dinosaur nuggets, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, ice cream, fruit snacks, rice cakes, popcorn, pretzels, chips, macaroni and cheese, fish sticks, waffles, spaghetti-o’s, and alphabet soup!

7-10 years: the above foods, pizza, sandwiches, grilled cheese, lunchables, apples and peanut butter, cheese sticks, fruit smoothies, mini muffins, trail mix, pop tarts, toaster strudels, chex mix, granola bars, cheeto puffs, and more!

so many yummy ideas!! :D i think this is also a great list to pick from for a little picnic! or a lil movie marathon with a cg, sibby, or any other lil friend! or perhaps even a road trip!

#agere #agere community #agere blog #age regression #age regression community #age regressor #agere textpost

[free-boundsoul]

What do you mean, Freelancer? I’d never use the word “fake” to describe you, but my opinion doesn’t mean shit compared to yours. Are you okay?

He goes through all that trouble for cake, and then feigns ignorance to get out of helping with the Thanksgiving dinner, all the while mocking me? And you know something, that is exactly on brand for Gavin. He really gets a kick out of seeing me all pissed off. Daemons have such a different relationship to magic than us. It’s hard for us to comprehend conjuring since we can’t do it. I don’t know about conjuring up money. I supposed he could. It’d be counterfeit, but I’m not sure how anyone would find out about it. Maybe other daemons could, though. When you go out, does Gavin ever pay? You know my motto, Freelancer: Don’t get mad. Get even. And that is exactly what I plan to do with Gavin. Maybe I’ll invite him over for dinner and let everything burn so he’ll feel the need to swoop in and save the food. Gavin’s promiscuity doesn’t factor into this. How could it?

Puppy chow? Umm, not great, Freelancer. You know how much I love peanut butter, but I don’t love it enough to eat dog food flavored like peanut butter. And I don’t think you should be giving a dog anything like chocolate frosting. That can really make them sick.

Hux did, but Hux is also an elemental with empowered parents, so I doubt he had much trouble in the class. Profs like that cling to it because it’s easier. It takes work to generate inclusivity, to reflect on yourself and your complicity. You’re right. It’s frustrating as hell.

How lucky that this corner booth is open for us then. I don’t need a menu. I already know what I’m going to get. A short stack of chocolate chip pancakes, two eggs sunny side up, hash browns, a mug of black coffee, and a glass of water without ice. Here, take a look and see what looks good to you.

-Damien

I'm sorry, I was feeling a bit down, I'm better now! Just some days I don't feel like...I don't feel like I'm the same person that other people see? It's just hard to see myself as how I've had others describe me, like when I get compliments. I just...it's hard to think of myself that way when I have this voice in the back of my head telling me the opposite, you know?

Yeah, that's definitely on point with Gavin. I think he just likes to push buttons for reactions, maybe because he can feel emotions and he likes working through different minutiae? He likes flustering Lasko and trying to get a rise out of Hux, though most of that seems to go over the big guy's head unfortunately. Hmmm...he has paid before. It looked like normal cash but it's not like I tried to examine it. Do you think the stuff they conjure comes from someplace else? Like ingredients they pull out of the air is actually from the store a few blocks away or money is just taken from the bank? He'd probably try and fix it with magic though, right? And it's Gavin, Damien. He's going to try and push your buttons. If you think the innuendos from friendsgiving were bad, just think about him specifically amping them up to target you.

...I-I mean the snack, Damie. It's rice chex cereal coated with melted peanut butter, butter and chocolate and then that's coated with powdered sugar. It's definitely not for dogs. Have you never had it before? Now I'm wondering if it's called something else or maybe it's a regional treat like scotcheroos.

That's true, I was going to ask if he saw the professor act like an ass or single out anyone. You'd think with this new age of technology it'd be easier to record teacher's pulling shit like that?

You don't want to look at the menu? Is that what you usually get? Cuz that sounds really good if I can switch the coffee with milk. There was this place around where i grew up that was like a breakfast buffet but you just told them what you wanted and they'd bring you servings. Anyway, they had these buttermilk cinnamon sugar donuts and they were made fresh and they came out hot and they melted in your mouth. They were so addictive, I should find a recipe and try to replicate them.

#damien anon!!🔥 #sorry for the...depression in the beginning

[sheerfreesia007]

Happy Halloween

Title: Happy Halloween

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 981

Warnings: Fluff

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Author Notes: I loved writing this. Actually listened to a Halloween playlist to keep myself inspired. This was a fic request for Statesman Halloween party. 

Gif Credit: Pinterest and Google

         Setting the last bowl of Halloween themed snacks on the purple and black table clothed table you smiled as your hips swayed to the song Jump in the Line playing in the background. Your eyes surveyed the laid out tables of snacks and drinks. There were pumpkin rice krispie treats, Halloween themed chex mix in a large bowl, witch finger pretzel rods, bloody white chocolate apples, candy corn fruit cocktails, mummified hot dogs, pumpkin patch pudding, Halloween punch, witch’s brew punch, boonilla milkshakes, and other various treats. Not to mention the actual food that you had called Ginger in to help you make.

         Your hands came up to smooth down your black and multicolored floral dress over your hips as you stood proudly looking at your work. Champ had given you the okay to go and coordinate a Halloween party for Statesman to be able to relax a tiny bit since it had been nothing but mission after mission for the past two months. With Halloween being your favorite holiday you had gone all out. Along with the food there was Halloween themed decorations all over.

         Spider webs hung in corners and over the tops of windows, there were ghost lanterns hanging from the ceiling, you had managed to convince the storage clerks to let you use the fog machine and strobe lights that had been confiscated on an old mission and stored in the storage locker. You had also put out pumpkins and jack o’ lanterns that you had asked Tequila to help you carve out and there was an ode to Dia de los Muertos with the colorful banners that hung over the food tables.

         A Halloween playlist played in the background and you felt the excitement grow inside of you as you waited for the rest to show up. You had hoped that Whiskey would make an appearance he had told you that he would love being at the party when you had told him what you were planning.

         Just then Ginger walked into the room and you smiled brightly over at her as you spotted her dressed up in her black cat costume. She grinned over at you as she held her hands out.

         “You’ve out done yourself! This place looks amazing and your costume is so hauntingly beautiful. You did a really good job.” She greeted you with a warm hug.

         “I couldn’t have done it without your help, thank you so much for helping me.” You responded as the two of you stood close to each other near the food tables. Soon more and more agents and employees at Statesman began filing in.

         “There you are. I was wondering when I was going to find you.” Tequila said as you turned from your conversation with one of the communications tech. He wrapped you up in a tight hug and swung you up into the air your costume swinging out in an arc. “You look fantastic. It’s a bit jarring to you see painted up like a skull but really well done.”

         “Thanks. I’m dressed for more Dia de los Muertos but it’s fitting for Halloween too.” You said as you looked down at you black lace and crocheted multicolored floral dress. You had painted your face to look like a skull with colorful designs on it; there were large flowers in your hair and a head scarf that covered your loose hair.

         “You look really good.” He says in appreciation and you smile at him with thanks. “Whiskey hasn’t shown has he?” he asked softly and you shook your head.

         “It’s fine, I heard he was on a mission so he’s probably not back yet.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders. You look around the room and smile as you see everyone dancing, eating and enjoying themselves. Champ is dancing on the dancefloor with the other agents and there’s steady chatter that fills the room around you. You were happy that you were able to get this together for everyone to relax and enjoy themselves but there was a cowboy that you were surely missing.

           It’s hours later and you’re finishing up cleaning up the space that you had kicked Tequila out of only an hour before. He had stayed and helped clean up the room with you saying that since he wasn’t around for the set up he’d be around for the clean-up. I’m tying up the last of the large black bags that I had filled with the trash that we had accumulated when I hear the soft thud of boots behind me.

         Turning with furrowed I’m surprised to see Whiskey walking into the room and over to me with a sheepish look on his face. In his hands he’s holding a purple cake box and he looks a little ragged as he comes to stand in front of you.

         “I’m sorry I late. The mission ran a little longer than expected.” He said softly as he held out the purple box for you. You shake your head and flip the box lid up to see a large chocolate cupcake with purple and white icing in a spider web design.

         “When I heard you were still on mission I figured you wouldn’t be able to make it. It’s no big deal.” You said softly with a smile. “But this is a nice apology.”

         “Wanna share it?” he asked with a smile and you nodded your head guiding him over to the table so the two of you could sit and eat it. Though he wasn’t here for the actual party you were quite happy with him being here now. You pulled the cupcake out and smiled as he produced a pair of plastic forks for the two of you with a grin.

         “This is perfect.” You said softly as you took a bite of the cupcake grinning widely over to him.

#my writing #kingsman the golden circle #fic request #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader