#i honestly think that matcha would be a good addition but i have to get some first

[youreaclownnow]

Made a new cocktail that looks like swamp water but tastes like a circus

Ingredients:

- 1 can Monaco blue crush

- 1 shot jager

- juice of 1.5 oranges (with the remaining half sliced and submerged)

- ice cubes

[adonis-koo]

tease

| 24 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,  

Word Count: 10k

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Tags:  penetrative sex, it’s a little rough, oral (m & f recieveing) they 69 i’m sorry, dirty talk, an attempted lap dance, reverse cowgirl because we love women who ride, slight degradation, praise kink, spanking, doggy style, little hair pulling and breath play,

Song Mood

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter present them.

“No!” 

“What do you mean no!? Baby be reasonable you can’t tell me you’re gonna cook all of that.” Jungkook glared down childishly at the cart only semi full of groceries that you had crossed off the list you had made before dragging Jungkook out, if he had it his way, you’d both be at the theme park right now. 

But seriously, his fridge was empty! Nothing, and you were not eating take out, again. It was ridiculous. So in effort to combat the increasing desire to cook at home, you compiled a list of meals you wanted to make and eat before demanding Jungkook go with you to the store because hey, if he wanted to live together then this was going to be a team effort. 

You had asked Jungkook what he wanted to eat as well and he shrugged saying he really didn’t care and therefore, the world was your oyster in terms of cooking, “Me be reasonable!?” You replied back indignant, an angry pout on your face as you flailed your hands, “You’re the one who tried to put two 24 packs of soda in the cart, a box of snack cakes, matcha snowballs and mochi in the cart? You think I’m gonna let you add ice cream to the list as well?” 

You knew Jungkook had a sweet tooth but you didn’t realize just how big of a sweet tooth he had and before you knew it, you were constantly making Jungkook put things back, he glared at you and you glared back at him. War sirens could be heard to anyone passing by you both as he gripped the tub of ice cream stubbornly. 

“It’s either mochi or ice cream Jungkook, we’re not getting both.” You replied as you crossed your arms. And for the first time in your life, you watched Jungkook’s lips quiver into a pout, puffing a childish breath as he turned around in defeat, going to put the ice cream back. 

You had to stifle your giggle because you knew he’d take it as a challenge otherwise, he was just too cute sometimes. You found his sweet tooth, in fact, endearing. Most men in his position would probably try to act all tough and manly, only liking things bitter like their personalities but Jungkook? Far from it. 

Jungkook came back with his arms crossed and that broody pout still on his face making you smile unable to stop your giggles making him even more broody as he took the cart from you with a huff, “Stop laughing at me! You’re cock blocking all my favorite snacks.” 

“Is that all you buy by yourself? Just snacks? That’s not healthy!” You giggled even more at the way he rolled his eyes, obviously your guess was correct, “Besides, once I start cooking you’ll appreciate it, I just know it. And,” You raised your brows as your lips puckered together, “You were the one that wanted us to live together, this is on you.” 

Jungkook huffed as he pushed the cart, looking down at the list that was laid out on top of your purse, “How is that going by the way?” Jungkook’s expression melted to one of curiosity as he raised his brow, “Have you talked to your landlord yet?” 

“Yeah,” You paused at the fresh produce outside the isle you both excited as you grabbed onto the cart, it was slow today and much appreciated so you wouldn’t have to battle over food with people, “The apartment is still in good condition even after...what happened,” Your lips twisted into a weak smile as you grabbed one of the reusable bags you always used at the store as you placed a fresh stalk of chokboy inside it, “My lease was getting ready to come up anyways so we agreed that with two months of rent he’d terminate my lease. I’ll get that to him Monday and then I’ll have thirty days to pack up everything and get it moved.” 

Jungkook nodded, “Which by the way, everyone agreed to come over and help clean up later today,” Your lips quivered into a pout...you...when did he even ask them that? You knew everyone had of course offered help but well, you hadn’t expected anyone to actually come and help you...well besides Jungkook but that was just a given. 

“Don’t look like that,” Jungkook snorted, reaching out as he squished your cheeks, a tiny smile tugging on your cheeks as you grabbed his wrist, pushing him away, “They asked by the way, I didn’t do anything. It just got mentioned in the groupchat.” 

“I didn’t see it.” You frowned as you checked your phone and much to your confusion you were right, there weren't any new messages to your notice.

Jungkook’s smile was a little sheepish as he shrugged, “We have a guys groupchat.” 

“That I'm not a part of!” You cried out with a pout as you crossed your arms, your expression sulky, you obviously weren’t surprised all the boys had their own chat, you were a part of so many it was hard to keep track but, couldn’t they ask in the main one? Where everyone was a part of?

“Well you aren’t a guy baby,” Jungkook cooed out, saccharine dripping on his tone as he squished your cheeks, “Besides…” He had a lopsided smile on his face as he leaned on the handle of the cart, “It was supposed to be a surprise but��.I can’t help myself. I didn’t want you to cry again.” 

It was hard to not smile as you pushed him away playfully making him shove you back as you pulled the cart along, “I can’t believe everyone really wants to help...I mean...I just figured it’d be me and you.” 

“Well believe it or not they are your friends too now,” Jungkook snorted writing off on the list you made as you placed fresh tomatoes into the bag you had set the bokchoy in, “What are you even gonna make with this shit?” He furrowed his brows. 

“Food! I was gonna make some bulgogi one night and some porkbelly another with banchan and maybe some jjangijanma? I’m not just spending money on food that's gonna go bad Koo!” You stomped your foot in annoyance at why he kept complaining about you feeding both you and him decent food, “We can’t live off takeout, I’m not gonna stand for that! And!” 

You pointed a finger at him, “I want to get some paint for the living room! And some curtains because what if some creep is staring at us at night?” You shuddered, at the irrational fear but you couldn’t help it, regardless of how irrational it was you wouldn’t stand for it, especially if it was an easy fix, “Along with a rug too for the living center- oh! I was thinking about maybe finding a coffee table for the couch too? Too put in front of it?”

“Okay wait, wait, wait, slow down,” Jungkook held out his hands, his expression bewildered at your sudden long list of demands for the apartment, “Just because we’re living together doesn’t mean you can just hijack my apartment.” 

“Sure I can,” His lips parted indignantly as you smiled brightly with a shrug, “It’s not like you bothered to decorate anyways and I’m sure your landlord won’t mind a fresh coat of paint on those musty looking walls. Besides, it’s not yours anymore, it’s ours. You think we could get some new lighting for the kitchen too by the way? The white light really makes the grey walls look gross.” 

Jungkook puffed a breath, a brief smile on his lips as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “Let's just focus on one thing at a time first okay?” You squealed at his words, bouncing in excitement at his approval of letting you completely hijack his apartment but honestly, it reeked of lack of care and testosterone. It could use a feminine touch, “We can start off with some paint and lighting, that I can do. And….” He rubbed his neck, “It’s not like we don’t have time, I just got a call from Sejin this morning telling me Cherry isn’t gonna be open until Monday.” 

You frowned, “Isn’t that when SSU starts though?” How was that even gonna go? You doubt a lot of people- if any at all would show up, especially given what had just happened. Would it even still be on this year with everything that’s happened? 

“Yeah that’s the ploy,” Jungkook shrugged, just as unsure as you as he answered, “A lot of free and cheap entertainment, drinks will be half off, Sejin and Bang are really trying to make the most of Cherry’s comeback to try and bury what happened. You’d be surprised at how superficial people are, especially men when it comes to strip clubs.” 

You sighed wistfully as you shrugged, you wouldn’t deny him there, men were strange creatures and you wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of business did come back without a care in the world for what happened as long as it meant cheap drinks and naked girls.

“But hey! That gives us more time to prep for you,” Jungkook smiled that charming bright smile of his as he bumped into you making you whine a little as you bumped him back despite a smile threatening to tug on your lips, “Meaning I got a strip pole to install when we get back to the apartment. We won’t need Cherry anyways to choreograph now.” 

You were wondering what that package was on his front porch anyways, he had only smiled that smile of his as he shrugged innocently but apparently he had been wanting to get a pole for the apartment for awhile now. 

“Well I already have some songs picked out,” Your smile was a little timid at that pure enthusiasm Jungkook always radiated with pride when it came to you and work, “You’ll have to tell me in detail later just how things are run for SSU. But anyways, this is the last of what we need so let's go check out.” 

Jungkook wheeled the cart to the checkout where you carefully placed things back into the reusable bags which Jungkook complained about but you didn't like using plastic when it wasn’t needed. 

For the first time, doing mundane things such as grocery shopping was actually rather fun, Jungkook and you would banter the whole time and he despite complaining was just as curious and involved in getting things for you (and just as what had happened, trying to bring extra things into the cart as well). However he did get his own snack as well. You just weren’t gonna let him go overboard.

Bringing groceries in was also easy as Jungkook had made it a competition he easily won by bringing them in bulk, proudly showing off the muscle he had despite it being hidden beneath the bagging clothes he often wore. 

Unfortunately Jungkook looked like a lost puppy, unable to help as you began to unload them into the fridge, debating on where to put everything as he sat back at the chair at the table with a fat pout on his face making you giggle, “You can join in the say so if you want, I don’t mind! It is your fridge. Have you ever even gotten a full grocery shop before?” 

“No.” Jungkook sulked as he crossed his arms, making a flutter of laughter escape you, “I don’t know shit about where to put what in the fridge!” 

You waved him over as you shook your head, and reluctantly Jungkook got up and peered over your shoulder, “Everyone does it different, but this is how I do it. All the big stuff like milk and dairy go on the main shelving,” You patted the first level where you had placed your oat milk, the sour cream and cheese at, “These little shelves are for smaller stuff like butter! And the drawers on the bottom hold produce like the bokchoy we have.” 

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you loosely as he set his chin on your shoulder, listening intently to you ramble and explain how you placed things into the fridge before muttering to him about how to arrange things which Jungkook would offer suggestions on, some you’d agree excitedly with and others you snort and dismiss. 

You enjoyed doing domestic things with him. It didn’t take long for all the groceries to be put away and you were admittedly excited to start turning Jungkook’s apartment into something more...bright...You didn’t want to say Jungkook’s apartment was ugly. It just felt...void of personality and flair that you knew it had the potential for. 

And it wasn’t like Jungkook lived in a bad part of Seoul, it was a lovely neighborhood and apartment complex he lived in and because it was so close to Gangnam it was extremely expensive, the only way he could ever afford it was because he was a stripper. He had told you he only started renting here three years ago. 

So you knew this apartment probably came like this and only deteriorated over time as Jungkook didn’t live hard in it, but he didn’t maintain more than needed. With a little bit of love you knew this place would be a lot brighter and happier. 

“Just hold down the bottom,” Jungkook directed as you steadied the pole, he stood up on a chair as he installed the top of the pole, you both had to rearrange furniture and Jungkook respectively asked for your opinion as this was your domain that you would be styling in the future and you both had agreed that the pole would look back towards the further right corner just a little left of where the TV was, but enough space that there was no chance of hitting the wall or anything else. 

You definitely had some work to do with this place but you were already getting ideas that you were excited to try, the rest of your summer, which was coming to a fast end, wouldn’t go to waste.  

“I am!” You replied, looking up at him with a pout as you steadied the pole. 

“Then why are you wiggling so much?” Jungkook huffed as he gripped the top of the pole making it stiff as he finished tightening the top. 

“Don’t be mean! I’m trying my best!” You replied back with a cry making Jungkook snort as he rolled his eyes, finishing up he hopped off the chair, holding out his hands, your eyes narrowing on them as you grabbed them. 

“I’m not being mean,” Jungkook tutted as he pulled you up and against him, you tried your best to make an angry face but it failed as he leaned down, bumping your nose against his, “You’re just being a baby.”

Your expression curled a little as he smiled that smile of his as he looked away, “See? Pure baby material.” 

You stomped your foot before latching onto him, your arms around his neck as you spoke, “You like it when I’m a baby!” You defended yourself, making him chuckle. 

“You’re right, I do.” He relented playfully as he sighed dramatically, “I do. I wouldn’t want it any other way then seeing your sulky, pouty little face every day.” He bumped your nose against his once more as your lips lightened into a bright shy smile as you leaned up, letting your nose brush his in acknowledgement, “Are you ready to go? The others are headed over to your apartment.” 

You nodded, “Mhm, I just wanna get it cleaned oh and…” You offered a cheeky smile that you knew he would groan about, “I wanna bring some of my mugs and plates over...it’s really sad you live off styrofoam.” 

“Oh my god.” He sighed as he hung his head causing a string of giggles to escape you, god you loved this man. 

“Man this place is a mess,” Seokjin wrinkled his nose as he swept up broken glass, “I mean really, it’s seen better da- Ow! Hey you punk!” Seokjin had dropped the broom to rub his bicep at the harsh punch Jungkook landed against his arm, his glare sharp as he briefly looked over at you. 

Kneeled down your fingers ran through the soil of the potted hosta you had bought from the supermarket, it had been dying and you were slowly nursing it back to health. Now all its leaves were dried up and crumbled from the days without nutrition or water. Placing the chunks of pottery into the plastic bag you remembered the day you bought that pot too. 

It was from the local pottery store and the woman who ran it was so excited that you had gotten it because it had been sitting on the shelf for nearly three months despite having the cutest illustration of a lone weak tree on it. 

You remembered thinking it was that most adorable thing on the planet and just knew it’d look good sitting up on that old wooden crate you stood up right as a stand. You hardly even realized tears were trickling down your cheeks as you held up the broken pottery piece that had the small tree on it. 

“We’ll get you a new one babygirl.” Jungkook kneeled down beside you with a soft tone as he wrapped an arm around you, your lips immediately quivering as you sniffled harshly, trying not to cry. It was dumb, these were all things, just material items, at least they weren’t you. But in everything you did and bought, you did it was so much passion and utmost love. 

“...It was from the pottery store, theren’t aren’t any more like this.” You mumbled with a sniffle as you closed your eyes in defeat, tears trickling down your face as you wiped them. Shaking your head, “This is so stupid to cry about!” You flopped the piece into the bag, feeling frustrated with yourself, you were tired of crying, tired of feeling your heart ache over the tiniest things. It was too exhausting. 

“No, no, no it’s not!” Jungkook immediately defended, grabbing the piece from the bag, “These are your things babydoll, and I know how much your space means to you. It’s okay for this to be hard,” He pecked your temple as you closed your eyes again, warm watery tears sliding down your cheeks, “There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that.” 

Your hands trembled as you covered your eyes, your shoulders bouncing as you silently kept your tears to yourself, Jungkook’s lips pressing into your hair as his hand soothingly rubbed your arm that was wrapped around you. 

After a moment of mourning all of the precious memories you made in this little apartment you called home, you wiped your tears as Jungkook asked if you were okay, nodding you continued to wipe your eyes as he helped you bag up the rest of the broken pot. Tenderly Jungkook took the bag from you as he rubbed your back once before getting up. 

Sighing you shook your head, wiping your eyes one last time as you stood up.Stupid...even with Jungkooks vaildation which you knew he was right about, you couldn’t help but berate yourself, it was dumb to cry about things like this when there was better ways you could exert your energy. 

Having dried your tears and having a moment to regain your composure you finished up cleaning all the pottery and glass that had been scattered on the floor before walking into the living room your lips curled a little at the confused expression Jimin sported. 

He was holding up a cloth, inspecting it closely as if trying to figure out what it was was but obviously finding no success due to the many rips in it, “It’s a tapestry,” Jimin jumped a little as you sat down on the couch beside him, “...Was a tapestry,” You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, “I found it at a flea market when I first came to Seoul, back when me and Seulgi lived together that was our first week on being in our apartment and it was horrible,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled, grabbing a side of the ripped tapestry in fondness, “I mean there was water stains on the walls, the paint was chipped and looked like it had been due for a new coat for over ten years, the toilets hadn’t been scrubbed and the bathrooms were wrecked. It was horrible.” 

Jimin peered at you curiously as you traced the design of a large lotus flower that had been on it, “Seulgi just started crying the moment we walked through the house for the first time because the pictures online made it look a lot better. And of course I thought it was terrible too, but later that week exploring Seoul, I ended up finding an old flea market stall and came across this.” 

Your lips curled into a proud smile as you held it up, “And I realized that, just because that’s what our apartment looked like when we first got there, didn’t mean it had to continue looking like that. Seulgi dragged her feet and wouldn’t come with me so I painted all the walls, cleaned up the bathrooms and got new apparel to put in there. It didn’t happen fast.” 

You clacked your tongue as you sighed, “We were pretty broke at the time because even with us splitting rent it was still expensive. But slowly and sure, it came together. And we left that apartment better than it ever was. I was proud.”

You looked at Jimin only for him to scoot a little away from you as he joked, “Maybe you should’ve gone into interior decorating instead of dance? Jungkook could really use the help, he has zero sense of taste when it comes to anything besides himself.” 

You briefly flickered your gaze to Jungkook who tried to not make himself so obvious that he was keeping an eye on you both, his gaze immediately shooting away from you as you sighed, you knew Jungkook would apologize on his own time but that didn’t mean you still didn’t feel bad, “Jungkook told me…”

You didn’t need to elaborate for Jimin to know exactly what you were talking about, his expression visibly put out as he slumped back against the couch, running his hands through his hair as he groaned, “I mean I’m not surprised, but he could’ve kept it to himself…You know what, maybe you’ll tell me what the fuck is wrong with him?” 

Your lips parted a little, somewhat taken aback at just how strong Jimin came off, clearly still sore about yesterday- not that you could blame him, you knew how Jungkook was, but still…you had never seen Jimin in such a...hostile state. And a part of you felt a wave of guilt...had it not been for you...Jungkook wouldn’t be like this…

You had to pause to think about your next words carefully, because you knew if not said the right way, it could be seen as defensive, which wasn’t your intention, “...Well...I wouldn’t say there’s anything wrong with Jungkook,” You spoke softly, folding your hands into your lap, “He just....” Your eyes fanned around the room realizing Jungkook must’ve gone back to the kitchen, otherwise it was just the two of you, “...Jimin…” You sighed as you lifted one foot onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your leg as you gently laid your head against it, “There’s a lot of stuff going on with him lately. There’s a lot of things that he’s ignored about himself and bottled up, and...it’s all come out recently. A lot of wounds he never even tended to, have been ripped back open for him.” 

“I just don’t understand him,” Jimin sighed, lifting up the fabric of the tapestry once more as he shook his head, “I thought I knew him, but I guess I don’t huh.” You frowned a little as you pulled the tapestry from his hands, folding it up as you shook your head. 

“It’s not you, he just...I guess he thought he could bury it, or run from it...and he can’t.” You smoothed out the edges, “It’s brought out a lot of deep rooted insecurities from him. And Jungkook knows it’s not like him, but it’s not something he can help. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I made things tense between you both....” You couldn’t look at him anymore, feeling a sense of shame in you as you stared down at your fingers.

“It’s not your fault!” Jimin immediately defended you, which was appreciated but you still felt bad, “You did nothing wrong.” 

“I basically gaslit him when he thought I was pregnant with your kid and instead of just staying in, I forced us to go out and not only that but somehow during all of that, I seriously thought blowing you would be a good idea.” Jimin deflated a little at your words as you stared at him in exasperation. You didn’t force Jungkook to go out technically, but you had pushed the whole day.

But only because you knew something was bothering him and he’d never be like that normally, you should’ve respected what he wanted regardless but you just thought….thought what? You felt pathetic trying to defend your motive that day, but it had been truly innocent up until what had happened at the afterparty. You had assumed Jungkook would eventually perk back up and have fun because he loved going out, you wouldn’t have pushed him had you understood what was really going on. 

“Well you do sound kinda like a bitch when you put it like that,” Jimin muttered, looking at you as you looked back at him, a smile curling on his lips and one threatening yours as you snorted, “But we both know it probably wasn’t like that. You had his best intentions at heart. And I mean you’re right, blowing me wasn’t a good idea, but I mean…” He shrugged, that dumb smile on his face as he shrugged, “Listen, it is what it is, you and I both assumed he wouldn’t care, clearly. And it was a shit move. The most you can do is just let it go and move on, I’m assuming he told you about what he told me?”

You nodded, setting down the tapestry coffee table as you hummed, “Yeah he told me, and it’s not like I could be mad at him, he’s struggling, with a lot internally and I think once he works through it, things will be okay. But it’s just going to be a work in progress until then.” You could distinctly remember Jungkook’s anger, the way he seemed frustrated with himself. 

It was going to be a process, “Besides...It seems like Jungkook isn’t the only one who hasn’t told everyone everything either...and I really hope you both know that it’s okay to have some things stay private.”

Jimin said nothing, only looking down at his hand that he flexed his fingers out from, wiggling them a little and his expression seemed downcast, “...I used to wanna have kids,” You glanced at him in surprise, not at his words, but you didn’t think Jimin would want to talk about it, it was something very personal to him clearly and he owned you nothing, “Me and my girlfriend used to talk about it all the time.” 

His lips flickered into a small smile as he looked down at his hand, as if remenscising a memory you’d never know about, “She said she always loved baby smiles and loved little kids sitting down with her, she used to work at a daycare- so I thought, why the hell not?” Jimin’s tiny smile began to melt off her face, “She thought it was her- that was infertile. But I got tested too with her, she just so happened to get her results back faster.” 

Jimin’s face became void as he lowered his hand down, “It was late that night and she had offered to stay past her shift because they were low staffed that night but I never got to see her again, a drunk driver clipped the back side of her car and flipped it.” 

Your lips quivered a little into a frown as you folded your hands, Jimin’s lips twitched into a bitter smile, “I got my results that morning.” You could see swirls of lingering mourning and rage inside his eyes, it was very similar to not only Jungkook, but Rosé’s as well. They all had things they were struggling with and it made your heart hurt for them, “God is one cruel motherfucker.” 

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled softly, your hands folded into your lap, wanting to give him a hug because you knew anybody in Jimin’s position probably needed one, but you also knew, this was a bad time, and that it wouldn’t be appropriate given everything that had happened up until this point, “I know that doesn’t change things for you. But, I do hope you find happiness.” You offered a tiny smile. 

Jimin sighed as he stretched out, shrugging loosely, trying to play it off like he didn’t care anymore but he above all else should know it wouldn’t slip past your eyes the way he was still sore about it, and he had every right to be, “It’s been years now,” He deflated, “I spiralled out of control after that, and eventually I stumbled across Cherry Bomb.” Jimin’s lips curved a little at the memory, “I was drunk and I wasn’t sure if I was just hallucinating or if it was Yeji on stage. It wasn’t,” He clarified before snorting, something oddly melancholy in his eyes as he muttered, “It was Rosé,” His lips curled into a semi ironic smile and his brows furrowed as if only slightly amused, “They don’t even look close to alike. And I remember seeing her in class the next day before realizing she was a stripper and she just begged me to not tell anyone.” 

Jimin heaved a breath as he stretched out before sitting up, “But I didn’t wanna tell anyone, I wanted to be up on stage. It sounds stupid but, that night I was drunk, I figured who’d care if I just left the world too?” His gaze lowered a little, “But my drunk stupid ass thought it was Yeji on that stage, and I cried at the bar the whole night before Yoongi eventually kicked me out at closing, and even if they looked nothing alike, even if it was just a desperate drunk delusion, when I saw Rose the next day, I saw hope. And so I asked her how I could start dancing because it was obvious I saw her for a reason.” 

You sniffled a little, wiping your eyes as Jimin did a double take, “it wasn’t that sad christ…” He looked a little awkward as you giggled, “And…” His gaze became sharp, “Don’t ever tell her any of what I just said. She’s my best friend and I love her but that’s not a conversation I’m ready to have with her- if ever.” 

“I’m not Jungkook,” You giggled as you wiped your eyes, “Of course it’ll stay between us- and maybe Jungkook too,” He groaned as you offered a small smile, “It just made me emotional, that’s all. I can’t relate, I don’t know what that feels like. But it makes me happy you and Rosé are so close.” 

“I am a lesbian,” You both jumped at Rosé who put her hands on the couch, a bright smile on her face as she answered pointedly, “I mean we already agreed to get married platonically if we’re both single by 30 but I draw the line with dicks. Unless it’s rubber it’s not getting near me.” You snorted as you began howling out laughing, Jimin looked a little flustered, not at her words but at her appearance before relaxing as he rolled his eyes. 

“So why all of these affectionate words? Did I do something?” Rosé smiled teasingly as she placed a hand on her chest waiting making you giggle as you shook your head while standing up, shrugging as she pouted, “Hey no fair! You can’t keep secrets from me!”

You offered a small smile as you replied, “Sometimes, the longer a secret is kept, the sweeter it is when they tell you.” Rosé waved her hands walking back to the hallway as you giggled. You were glad, if anything, that you had the chance to talk to Jimin and not only this, but for him to share such a personal thing with you. 

“Are you really okay? With everything going on I mean?” Hyerin frowned, she had texted you earlier in the morning asking if you’d be interested in getting drink’s together and of course, leave it to Jungkook and Yugyeom both for that matter to butt in. 

They were off in the distance playing pool, Hyerin said she wasn’t a fan of bars but when you offered a lounge she seemed excited as she had never been, it was a nice place, lowkey and quiet but good for a night out or even a place to study during the day. 

You both sat at the counter watching Jungkook and Yugyeom play against a few others here at the lounge, “Well, I have to be,” Your hands curled around your drink, not wanting to think about what had happened a few days earlier and it was difficult to keep up with just how many traumatising things had happened within a week, “For Jungkook’s sake...and…” You sighed softly, “It’s not like there’s anything that can be done for me right now. That’s just gonna take time…” 

“Awh, I understand. I just wish things hadn’t taken such a sharp turn, do you know when Cherry Bomb will open back up at least?’ Hyerin stirred her drink as she leaned back against the barstool, watching Yugyeom and Jungkook look like little boys triuphanting over their victory together.

“Monday, by the sound of it...But nobody is even sure if we’re gonna have a crowd, even with SSU starting that night. Regardless me and Jungkook are gonna stay busy with choreographing, he’s really excited about it.” Your lips tilted upwards a little bit at the memory of how much enthusiasm he had, you were happy to see him happy. It was just like him to be like that, “How have things been...at the dungeon with...you know...Shownu was it?” 

Hyerin snorted, taking a sip of her drink as she rolled her eyes, “Same old, same old, he causes shit, makes dom’s hate him and gets away with it.” She crumpled the paper her straw had been in as she flicked it against the countertop, “Honestly, Yugyeom wants to find a new dungeon, the drama just isn’t worth it. I’m glad you and Jungkook don’t go regularly.” 

You tilted your head as Hyerin offered a weak smile, “It’s hard enough keeping Yugyeom from beating the shit out of Shownu and getting us kicked out. Jungkook and Yugyeom together?” You let out a weak laughing, beginning to understand what she meant, “I mean they’d probably send him to the hospital…” 

“They would send him to the hospital,” You offered a weak smile, even without Yugyeom’s help Jungkook totally would, let alone with it? Hyerin was right, that was a bad mix even together, you hadn’t had the chance to talk to Yugyeom fully but you had the feeling, that despite being more relaxed then Jungkook was, he could get just as defensive as him, easily. Maybe even more so, “What is the reason Shownu is still allowed around anyways?” 

You both didn’t have the time to visit the dungeon much but you got the impression that if you did, you’d probably be a lot more involved in the drama given Jungkook’s inclination to always step in, “Ah…” Hyerin relented as she rubbed her neck, “Shownu is just good friends with a lot of the dungeon owners, and if you’re on good terms with them? You’re pretty much untouchable. I don’t know all the ends and outs but…” Hyerin frowned as she looked at her cup, “Word is that some of the girls have been disappearing at the dungeon and...Some of the dungeon owners might be involved...I don’t know. We haven’t been for the past week ever since we found out. Yugyeom wants things to clear up before we go back.” 

You shuddered at the idea, being a little to familiar with the feeling, you could understand Yugyeom’s concern, for anyone’s concern really, Jungkook would be, and is the same way, “Seems like trouble in paradise everywhere these days,” You sighed wistfully, even in the areas of your life you weren’t so involved it, were having trouble now. 

You just wanted things to become normal again, when they weren’t so tense and your only stresses were exams and being naked on stage. It seemed so...insignificant in comparison now. Things were the way they were, so you wouldn’t complain about them, and at the very least, you and Jungkook had each other and you’d make it through this. 

But still, it was hard to not wish for things to be easier again. When your life wasn’t put on the line as well as Jungkooks, which he hadn’t exactly clarified but...You couldn’t ignore your gut instinct that was telling you he was in just as dangerous of a position.

“Tell me about it,” Hyerin sighed before suddenly perking up with a thought, “Oh…! You know what,” She turned you, her smile a little shy now as she asked, “What if you came over and we hung out one night? I have tons of coloring sheets at my apartment and snacks too! Yugyeom is pretty strict about snacks but he’d totally be willing to let us have some if it was a get together!” 

Was she talking about- Oh...your face felt hot at the mention, feeling a little shy but you did like the idea, sounded like...a nice break from the harsh world you were constantly having to endure day in and day out, “Sure…! We could do it tomorrow night if you wanted? If you’re free of course!” 

Hyerin bounced in her seat in excitement, “That’s perfect! And bring as many stuffies as you want, I have a whole collection I want you to meet.” You both began giggling and Hyerin needed to shut up before she slipped and you could tell her excitement was getting the better of her. 

“Oh I know that look,” Yugyeom called out, him and Jungkook both finished with their game of pool, his smile soft at the sight of her excited bounce and wigglyness, “What are you two conspiring?” 

“Well!” Hyerin crossed her arms, looking away with a little bit of sass as she spoke proudly, “Me and Y/n are having a playdate tomorrow night and you both aren’t invited.” Your eyebrows lifted and your gaze darted away from Jungkook’s who looked both thoroughly amused and yet daring you to try and piggy back off Hyerin. 

“Oh?” Yugyeom raised his brows, somewhat amused, somewhat challenging, “And where am I supposed to stay? Our bedroom?” Hyerin’s lips parted a little before she hmphed, crossing her arms, “As long as you aren’t mean to her I don’t care.” 

“I won’t! Y/n is my friend!” Hyerin pouted a little, grabbing your arm defensively as you smiled shyly, your hands folded as Jungkook sat down next to you, pressing a kiss on your head. 

“As fun as it’s been these two need to be separated, look at them,” Jungkook snorted in amusement, his eyes dancing with affection as he tenderly stroked a hand through your hair as you curled up against his touch, “They’re gonna send each other small in excitement,” Jungkook, knowing you contained the urge to coo at you as he spoke, “What about me though? Hm? Am I excluded too?”

Your lips quivered into a pout as Jungkook smiled fondly, his hands squeezing your cheeks, “No…” You mumbled, your bottom lip jutting like a fish as his fingers pressed into your cheeks once more, the puppy expression on your face just too cute for Jungkook to resist tapping your nose, “You can be there.” 

“Oh thank you so much baby,” Jungkook whispered, unable to stop the soft coo that escaped him, your arms immediately latching around him in a hug, as you looked up at him with a bright shy smile, “You’re always so thoughtful of others huh?” He leaned down and pecked your forehead. 

“Okay yeah, I gotta take someone home,” Yugyeom sighed but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face at Hyerin now attached to him, he brushed his hand through his hair before snorting, “Well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow huh, no courtesy of you.” He pinched Hyerin’s side making her whine, “Come on sweetheart, let’s go.” Hyerin bounced a little as she hugged unto Yugyeom who only smiled. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Jungkook waved them off before tutting, “You were gonna make plans and leave me out baby.” He said exasperatedly, a playful tone in his voice but you still shook your head. 

“No! That was Hyerin...I…!” You crossed your arms, a sulky glare on your face as Jungkook chuckled, “That wasn’t me!” You whined, leaning against Jungkook as he wrapped an arm around you, “She just thought it would be fun to get together and- and I just thought!” 

“Thought what?” Jungkook smiled boyishly as he raised his brows in amusement, “Thought what baby? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Thought it’d be nice to just not have to deal with everything for the night,” You mumbled, feeling a bit shy to admit it. You had felt self conscious when it came to anything about age regression, things had gotten a little better since you had talked to Jungkook about it but you were still a bit shy and admittedly...being with someone like Hyerin, who did the same thing, it made you feel, not so self conscious. 

“Well you’re more than welcome to at any time now that we’re gonna be together all the time baby,” Jungkook clacked his tongue, a playful smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to your head once more, “Buy hey, it’ll be a good way to relax tomorrow because we’re working the rest of today and all of tomorrow on your dances since we go back Monday. We’re gonna be cramming baby.” 

You whined at his arm squeezing you making a flutter of giggles escape you, pressing your head against him as he affectionately pressed a kiss on top of your head once more, “Are you ready to go then baby? We got lots to do at the apartment.” You supposed, Jungkook was right, and admittedly, you were looking forward to working with him on it. 

“No….No...Baby come on, I know you can do better than this.” 

You stomped your foot as you turned to Jungkook who was laid out on the couch, though obviously not impressed with your choreography was clearly enjoying the show regardless, a boyish smile crossed his lips at the sight of your annoyed expression. 

“Instead of sitting there just staring at my ass why don’t you help if you don’t like it!?” You crossed your arms, a sulky pout on your face as he chuckled, sitting up before walking over to you, his arms on your shoulder as he pushed you back to the pole. 

“I am helping,” He whispered playfully in your ear as you felt your face go red, shoving him a little as he laughed, “I’m being the audience, and I can tell you the audience won’t care for it.” 

You groaned as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms once more in frustration, “Then help me! What would look better oh sex dance master.” 

“I am the sex dance master,” Jungkook retorted with a chuckle, that stupid smile on his face as you puffed a childish breath, “And instead of starting out leaning on the pole like every other basic bitch, you should start laying down, and kick your feet up onto the pole.” 

“Did you just call me basic!?” You cried out, Jungkook only looked down at you, a smile still on his face as you groaned, grabbing your head as you looked up at him in disbelief. 

“Why don’t you lay down baby,” Jungkook redirected only more amused at your cry of frustration before complying, laying down on your back you set your feet up against the pole. Jungkook kneeled down as he nodded, “Mhm, and just…” He grabbed your wrists delicately, crossing them before he pulled them up over your head. 

Standing up he backed away a little, “Arch your back a little,” 

“I’m laying down.” You complained as you twisted your head to look up at him. 

“Arch your back.” Jungkook repeated more firmly, making you heave a sigh, uncomfortably curving your spine as best you could, “Now lift your chin a little,” You frowned before doing so, “Okay, okay, and...close your eyes and act sexy.” Your lips threatened to curve into a smile as you snorted, doing so, “That’s not sexy.” 

“I’m trying my best,” You opened your eyes, lips jutting a little as you glared up at him, “And this is my best.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, a smile tugging on his lips as he sat back down, “I’ve seen your best sweetheart, that’s not it. Now start the routine from there, do a few kicks or whatever you want from here before getting up.” 

Closing your eyes you sighed, trying to come up with something and the only thing you could think of however was letting one leg slide down the pole before slowly extending it back up, extending your other leg off the pole before walking them a little. Letting your feet lean to the left a little you lowered them to the floor before lifting your upper body up, looking at Jungkook who shrugged, tipping his soda can at you making you whine, “Bad?” 

His face scrunched a little and he hesitated for a second, “It’s not terrible...but you could do better. First move was nice, second was a little lacking and you know they think it’s cooler when you’re actually on the pole.” 

Laying back down you set your legs back on the pole, “So leg down is fine,” You lowered your leg to your chest once more, “extension is fine?” 

“That’s a good part,” Jungkook nodded, “Now do walk, walk,” You mirrored his words with your each little step, “Just two, then take your feet to the left and lift up. Don’t prolong it. Now lift your arms up and grab on with reverse.” 

You could strip yes, but...pole dancing….? It came with the trade but you still weren’t what one would consider your strong suit. Carefully you placed your hands in reverse grip, “Now pull yourself up.” This was easy! You pulled yourself, feeling triumphant, taking a few steps before adjusting your grip and doing a fan kick to the front. 

“There you go baby,” Jungkook nodded approvingly, his lips curled in that proud smile of his as he leaned back in his seat, “ You couldn’t help but feel shy at his words but continued with one more step before letting go of the pole, pressing your back against it as you slowly slid down to a pole sit, “My thighs are burning,” You whined, “You think I should do a button up for this?” You fiddled with pretend buttons before pushing yourself up. 

“I think,” Jungkook stood up, walking over before squeezing your chin, “You should do what you think is best, baby. I’m here to help not coach.” He whispered as you tried to push him away with a giggle as he pulled you back closer, “For what it’s worth I think you look pretty sexy no matter what.” 

“Stop! You whispered back feeling flustered and giggly pulling away from him as a closed mouth smile tugged on his lips, sitting back down on the couch his eyes were only slightly lidded but you could see what that meant from a mile away. 

“You know what baby? I think we might need to brush up on your lap dancing again,” Jungkook opened his arms, his thighs parting comfortably as he gestured you to his lap, your body immediately warmed as you whined a little, unable to deny him as you shuffled to stand in front of him, attempting to sit on his lap but his hand latched onto your hips stopping you, “Ah...what are you supposed to do before a lap dance baby?” 

You whined again as you shuffled in spot, Jungkook clicked his tongue, his hands tugging down your sweatpants to reveal your panties, you had anticipated getting laid today leaving you in a plain cotton underwear making you semi shy, Jungkook wasn’t having it though as he tugged you onto his lap, “Stop whining,” he whispered in your ear, his hands gripping your thighs before making their way to your ass, “And start making me feel good baby, show me how you do it.” 

You couldn’t resist pressing your face into his neck as your hips began circling against him, you could feel his cock beginning to stir as he let out a soft moan. 

His grip softening on your ass and his hands guided them ever so slightly, your clit beginning to rub just the right way on his jeans making you whine, “Mmph…! Jungkook!” Your hips becoming more desperate as you began grinding on him harder as your clit throbbed pathetically. His hands patiently guided your hips as he suckled tenderly on your neck. 

“That’s it baby, get those panties nice and messy for me.” He moaned softly, his hands squishing the cheeks of your ass in appreciation as you continued to grind against the the growing bulge in his pants, burying your face further into his shoulder as you whined.

“You’re not supposed to touch me during a lap dance…!” This wasn’t fair! Jungkook only squeezed your ass even harder making you jump a little as you were suddenly jostled onto the couch.

“You call that a lap dance baby? I’ve seen you do better.” Jungkook clicked his tongue as confusion washed over you as to what he was doing before you squeaked at one leg being straddled over him, your hands grabbing his stomach for some sort of support but that clearly wasn’t what Jungkook was aiming for, he carelessly pushed your back making you collapse down grabbing his thighs. 

Your face like it was burning at the realization of what position you were in, “...Jungkook!” You whined trying to pathetically crawl away from how close his face was to your throbbing cunt. It was expected for him to forcibly pull you back, a hand slamming against your ass making you squirm with a whimper, “Don’t wanna hear one word about it sweet heart, you know what I want you to do?” Jungkook’s voice dripped patronizingly, “I want you to suck that cock and if you do a good job maybe I’ll give this little cunt a good reward.” 

His hands left no room for debate as you whimpered at the feeling of your panties sticking to your cunt, your hands fumbled with the hem of his sweats before pushing them down along the Calvin Klein’s he was sporting today. His cock bounced in search of you as your lips quivered a little, sure you had slept together too many times to count now but...it didn’t ever make it less intimidating to blow him, especially in a compromising position such as this.

Sucking it up though you positioned yourself onto your forearms before giving a small lick to his irritated tip that was already beginning to dribble with precum, “Don’t you fuckin’ tease baby. That’s not what I asked.” Jungkook growled, his hips lifting a little in chase of your tongue and you couldn’t stop the little giggle that escaped you as you gave another kitten lick to his tip once more. 

Jungkook’s teeth gritted before you squeaked at the feeling of your panties being ripped off at the sides, “Jungkook…! Those were expensive!” Sure they were loungewear but that didn’t make them any cheater!  Jungkook ignored your whine though as you whimpered at his tongue suddenly pressing onto your sensitive little bud, a gasp escaping you as you lowered gaze despite not even being able to look at him, “Mmph…! Jungkook…” you mumbled, your cheeks burning and your hips unable to resist rocking against his tongue as your eyes squeezed shut.

A hand harshly striked the cheek of your ass making you jump as you whimpered, Jungkook’s tongue immediately being removed from your clit, “Suck, suck it you little cockslut, make that mouth useful baby.” Not wanting to prolong any sort of punishment you did as told, positioning yourself as best you could before taking his tip inside your mouth, suckling along his head tender before slowly bobbing your head to take him further.

Jungkook’s hands softened against your hips and you heard a low moan from him before his tongue rewardingly met your clit again, the notion had your thighs squeezing against his head and another whine vibrating against his cock as your head began to bob faster around his cock before you pulled off him to take a deep shaky breath at his persistence in suckling your clit.

Jungkook’s hands guiding your ass to ride against his tongue as your eyes squeezed shut tightly, “Mm! Jungkook…!” It was hard to focus on any sort of task when he was putting you through this, his hands squeezed warningly immediately putting you back to work.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock before lightly tugging it, your tongue dragging on the sensitive underside of his shaft. 

A hiss escaped Jungkook’s and his impatience attempting to get the better of him as his hands squeezed your ass before his mouth attached back to your clit, suckling and pressing his tongue down against it, flicking it rapidly making it difficult for you to do anything escape whimper against his cock as you attempted to keep the same energy for him. 

Squeezing a little on his base you took his tip back inside your mouth before bobbing your head as your legs trembled from the force of his tongue roughly playing with your clit, a hand smacking your ass making you jump but your hips were forced to stay in place with no choice but to take it as your eyes began to water. 

Taking his cock further into your mouth intending to go all the way until it hit the back of your throat, you could feel the pleased expression from Jungkook due to his moans of contentment on your cunt, his hands soothingly rubbing your thighs in coax to keep going for him. Wanting to please you hurriedly took a deep breath before slowly sinking further down his cock, your throat immediately stinging unpleasantly and your eyes watering as you heard low moans and long sigh of contentment from Jungkook, “Mmm, what a good girl, so good baby, keep going, keep sucking that cock.” His lips parted, dragging his tongue back to your clit making you gag on his cock as you whined, backing your hips further against his face in desperation. 

You bobbed your head sloppier at the feeling of his tongue delicately flicking your clit before he wrapped his lips around the tiny bud, something about the sensation sending you feral as the orgasm suddenly lit through your veins making you gag and whimper as your body squirmed against him. 

Jungkook’s hips lifted a little at the feeling of your mouth wrapped so tight around him, “Ah fuck! Such a good little slut for me baby, fuuck.” Jungkook let his head rest back on the couch as he sighed contently, his hands soothingly squeezing your ass cheeks as his lips parted a little, “Shit, shit baby! Mmm.” Your throat was painfully stinging and salvia was pooling down your chin before you pulled off him briefly to take a deep breath, “Such a good girl baby,” Jungkook cooed coaxingly, “C’mon baby, ride that cock for me, wanna watch you go dumb on my dick.” 

You whined a little, wiping your face with your arm before you carefully further down the couch, Jungkook’s hands guiding your hips to stop just at his cock which was bobbing in seek of friction. Your walls felt empty clenching around nothing and you wasted no time changing that. 

Sinking down on his tip you closed your eyes as a shallow moan escaped you, the feeling of his thick shaft splitting you open as you began bouncing on top of him. 

“Fuck baby, what a nice little wet cunt, keep going sweetheart, keep fucking going.” Jungkook inhaled through his teeth, trying to compose himself from wildly slamming himself into you like he wanted too, “Faster baby, I know you can take it.” You whine, lowering onto your forearms for more leverage as your hips started bouncing faster, your walls clenching around him harshly and his tip hitting all the right spots inside you as you whined with a shaky breath, sinking all the way down on him slowly before wiggling your hips. 

This notion made something inside Jungkook twitch before he growled impatiently, his tip nearing an angry bright red as he pulled out of you making you jolt a little as you shifted, being broken out of trance as you whined, “Jungkook…!” He wasn’t having any of it though, sitting up he shoved you further down onto the couch making you whimper as he yanked your hips up. 

“I know my little baby was having her fun but do you feel this?” Jungkook situated himself on his knee’s, your cunt presented to him as he slapped his cock against it as your lips quivered, “That’s your fault babydoll.” You didn’t even have a chance to defend yourself before the head of his cock pushed inside you once more only this time being at his complete mercy before Jungkook took liberty and slammed into you.

Your body was being jolted and your hands were hanging onto the couch arm for dear life as you cried out, “Ah! Fuck, fuck, Jungkook…!” You whined at the force his hips were slamming into you at, Jungkook was having none of it though, reaching out as he grabbed a fist full on your hair yanking it as his balls slapped against your skin hard enough to make you weak in the legs. 

“Don’t wanna hear a single word from you baby, you’re gonna be my little fucking cum dump yeah?” Jungkook’s breath was hot against your neck as his cock pushed before inside you, staying nice and snug in your cunt as he roughly thrusted harder into you making your body jostle with every motion. 

Just the thought had your walls squeezing around him as he moaned, “That’s right baby, you want this tiny cunt to be used to take all my cum? My little cumslut.” Jungkook’s jaw clenched at how loud you were beginning to moan, your body withering and shaking which was only giving him more motivation to keep going, his hips slamming harder and harder as your thighs trembled and had a harder time staying up.

“Go on baby, cum all of this cock, I can feel this little cunt wanting it, cum.” Jungkook nearly barked out with a growl, his cheating pressing against your back now, letting go of your hair in trade of your throat as he squeezed it tight making a breathy moan escape you, your vision nearly blacking out at how hard you abruptly came again, not even registering how loud you were moaning and whining beneath him. 

Jungkook pressed his forehead against your shoulder blades as he swore with gritted teeth, his hips burying inside you as he let himself go, hot substance shooting up inside you as he moaned softly, swiveling his hips a little to ride out his orgasm as he buried his face into your neck, “Fuck baby, feels so good.” He mumbled with a rasp as he pecked a kiss on your neck. 

Your body was rapidly trembling and you could hardly even speak as you melted into the couch trying to wrap your brain around how hard you just got railed.

Jungkook happily nuzzled into your neck, a small smile on his face as he began pressing kisses into your neck, “Love my baby so much, you did such a good job.” His hands rubbed against your waist approvingly making you wiggle a little, a tiny smile on your lips as you mumbled, “Were you mad at me…?” 

Jungkook’s nose nudged the crook of your neck against as he shifted a little to lay on top of you, his cock slipping from you making your legs twitch a little as he pressed another kiss on the back of your neck this time, “No? Jus’ wanted to fuck you senseless,” You huffed as he chuckled a little, “You weren’t complaining baby, say it back.” He poked your side as you wiggled a little, “C’mon say it, I wanna hear you say it baby.” 

You whined a little before wiggling, managing to turn yourself over to lay on your back, “Love you too Koo.” Jungkook practically looked like he was glowing as he collapsed against your chest, tiny kisses being placed on your collar bones as you cocooned yourself against him, happily soaking in all of the attention.

Note: It’s been such a cute little break in the story guys!!! I hope you’re prepared for the final four chapters coming up soon because !!! things get a little intense!!

(Taglist CLOSED)

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[wild-aloof-rebel]

Do you have any David and Patrick wedding reception/after party/wedding night headcanons?

absolutely! here are nine…

i.

even though the rest of the catering is delicious, david still misses the pizza that should have been, insisting that his carefully crafted menu is incomplete without it. halfway through the night, a dozen of elm county’s finest pizzas mysteriously appear, and though it isn’t fresh-baked the way it would have been had everything gone to plan, it’s salty and cheesy and hot and precisely what everyone needs to keep the night going. no one takes credit for ordering it, but patrick suspects that roland and jocelyn’s sudden absence during the cake cutting may have been for more wholesome reasons than he and david had assumed.

ii.

the cake is a traditional white almond sponge, but there’s a cherry filling and a thin layer of matcha buttercream in the middle that perfectly balance out the sweetness with bright and earthy notes. david had made patrick promise that he wouldn’t smash cake in his face, and he holds true to that vow, feeding him a careful bite from his own fork and relishing the way his eyes close and the corners of his lips quirk up, the same as they had the day they’d first sampled it at the bakery in elm glen, tipsy on free champagne and each other. but as soon as all the eyes in the room turn away from them and back to their own plates, patrick dips his finger into the icing and dabs a single dot of it to the corner of david’s affronted mouth just to have the excuse to lick it off of him.

iii.

there are too many toasts for david’s taste, which is to say any at all, the spotlight of stories and well-wishes making him wriggle in his seat, patrick’s hand squeezing gently at his thigh every time his leg begins to bounce. johnny, despite david’s worries, gets through his brief words without a single tear, just a huge, proud smile that doesn’t seem to leave his face all night. clint, on the other hand, tears up as soon as he starts, leaving marcy to swap his champagne flute with a tissue from her handbag. stevie, traitor that she is, opts to give her speech responsibilities over to alexis, and david braces himself for whatever horror story from their past she’s about to unleash. but instead of the past, she talks about the here and now, about the ease of david’s laughter and the quickness of his smiles, about the way patrick looks at him when he isn’t watching, about getting back a brother she hadn’t realized she’d lost and gaining another she hadn’t known she’d wanted, about how the walls we build around ourselves aren’t what protect us but love and friendship and family and trust are, about all the ways that letting others in only makes us more ourselves in the end. her charm and endless warmth invite everyone in to the story, make them a part of it, and there isn’t a dry eye in the room by the time she finally raises a glass, not only to david and patrick but also to this little town that brought them together–all of them–and gave them happiness they hadn’t known was possible.

iv.

patrick tears up watching david dance with marcy, his husband taking advantage of his height to spin her under his arm, her buoyant, carefree laughter floating out over the sounds of “brown eyed girl.” impossibly, he sometimes thinks she might love david even more than he does, and while he’s so glad that everything has worked out the way it should, there’s still a part of him that knows he could have missed this, that he could have let her miss this, not just the joy of dancing with david, which on its own is a beautiful thing, but the certainty of knowing that patrick is living this happy, comfortable life of his own choosing. they’ve talked a lot since his birthday, and he knows that all she and his dad have ever wanted is for him to be happy. there’s guilt and sorrow that twist in his gut like knives when he thinks about how close he came to denying them that, to denying himself that, and he still isn’t sure some days how he managed to walk away from that life and straight into this one he hadn’t even known he’d wanted instead. he honestly suspects some kind of divine intervention; it’s the only way to explain the miracle that is his husband, holding out a hand to him from the far side of the room, inviting him in once again to this world of joy and laughter and light that he gets the privilege of sharing with him every single day.

v.

moira wears 4 different outfits throughout the night, and david can only roll his eyes fondly at each costume change. in addition to the white alexander mcqueen dress she wears for the ceremony, she slips into a black stella mccartney gown before the start of the reception, the fabric split at the shoulders to reveal sleeves made of the same delicate crystal-adorned mesh that’s stretched across her shoulders. at the end of the night when it’s time to retire to the motel, she says her final goodbyes in a gareth pugh striped pantsuit that reminds david so much of her pajamas he briefly wonders if she might actually sleep in it. but his favorite by far is the ethereally structured iris van herpen she dons after dinner and toasts and cake, the dress flowing around her in elegant waves as his father spins her across the dance floor, art come to life, all the sharp, swift lines of her blurring into something–someone–softer and subtler and more at ease than he ever thought she could be in this place.

vi.

after a dance with stevie, patrick spies his husband tucked into the far corner of the room, his nose buried in his phone. david startles when patrick’s hands slip around his waist from behind, but the surprise of it passes quickly and he relaxes back in patrick’s grasp, comfortable and safe and at home in his arms. he drops his phone to his side though when patrick presses up on his toes to hook his chin over his shoulder, but not before he can catch a glimpse of a picture of the canopy of tulle and flowers that hangs over the center of the room. you can admit it you know, patrick tells him. admit what? david asks, though he clearly knows he’s been caught out. patrick presses a quick, soft kiss to the curve of his neck, tightening his arms around his husband as he breathes him in. they did a good job. this place is beautiful. david scoffs, but there’s no truth in it at all and patrick buries a chuckle in his shoulder. you’re beautiful, david replies instead, raising his phone again but flipping to the front-facing camera this time. he catches patrick’s left hand in his own, squeezing them to his chest so that both their rings are visible on the screen. he snaps several, both of them grinning dopily at the camera or at each other, as if they can’t stop themselves from looking deliriously happy if they try. after a careful debate over which one is best–patrick argues for the picture where the crinkled laugh lines around david’s eyes are deepest, though david vetoes that one in favor of another where patrick’s smile is wide and bright as david presses a kiss to his cheek–david posts the picture to the store’s instagram account since he no longer uses his own, captioning it we’re officially a family-owned business now. family. david is his family. the thought bursts into happy sparks, a cascade of fireworks hot and bright inside of patrick, and he can’t help but kiss david then, turning him in his arms to press all this glittering joy against his lips.

vii.

much later, patrick opens instagram on his own phone to clear away the overwhelming number of notification that have popped up on the post. hundreds of likes and dozens of congratulatory comments have rolled in, but the very first of each is from rachel.

viii.

thought i might find you out here, patrick says as he finds his husband standing in the inky darkness out behind the building. he looks overwhelmed–by the noise and the people and the emotions of the day–but in that way like he still can’t quite believe this is all real. let’s go for a drive, patrick offers. david’s brow wrinkles but he climbs into the passenger seat without a word, and patrick knows that however many mountains he’d climb for this man, he’d never have to do it alone. he can feel the moment that david realizes where they’re going, his fingers digging excitedly into the meat of patrick’s thigh. it’s well after midnight, so he doesn’t pull into the driveway, stopping instead on the shoulder across the road. he drags a blanket from the trunk and throws it across the hood of his car, offering david a hand to help him clamber up on top of it. they sit together there under the stars, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at their future, sketching the shape of it in whispers and hushed giggles and kisses soft and warm. only when they’re both shivering in the damp night air do they finally climb down and crawl back into the car, taking one long last look at the place they’ll soon call home. i wish it was already ours, david confesses into the safety of the dark, and patrick threads their fingers together, squeezing until he can feel both of their rings digging into his skin. me too, he says, but you’re still the only home i need.

ix.

they slip in quietly through the back door, though stevie grins wolfishly at them from across the room to let them know their absence hadn’t gone unnoticed. but there’s more dancing then. and drinks. photos. conversations. all these beautiful memories in the making. and later still, when things finally wind down and their parents and most of their other guests have said good night, david’s stomach rumbles loudly enough to be heard over the hushed strains of whitney houston still playing in the background. patrick, half-drunk, buries his fond, ridiculous laughter in his husband’s neck, and twyla suggests they head to the cafe. together with alexis and stevie, they wander right down the middle of the street, arms linked between them, david shaking his head as the other four make a sloppy, over-loud attempt at belting out “willkommen.” at the cafe, they all pile in to a booth together, talking loudly enough that twyla can still join in, calling back to them through the pass-through as she cooks up a mountain of scrambled eggs with cheese and warm, buttery toast, which she brings out all on one big plate. as they dive in, david thinks back to all the best meals he had when he lived in new york–expensive dinners at michelin-starred restaurants, quick lunches at greasy spoons, long boozy brunches and cheap late-night dives–and none of them could possibly compare to 3 AM scrambled eggs at the only restaurant in town, with his husband pressed so close he’s practically in david’s lap, surrounded by these people he loves more than he ever thought he could, all of them cackling wildly as they try to steal bites off each other’s forks. it’s the kind of moment–the kind of life–he would have never even thought to dream of, but it’s his and it’s real and he’s going to do everything he can to hold on to it for as long as he’s able.

[xiil3gendary]

Stellamap NDRV3 cafe review

Like last time, I’ll be going over food, drink and experiences I had at the Stellamap NDRV3 cafe in Akihabara on Sunday.

The good:

Compared to last time, I feel like the food was more of a letdown. PARTS of the meal were really tasty. I ate the Toujo breakfast set, the Saihara, Harukawa and Momota black curry, and the Shinguji fondant chocolate.

The curry was good. Better than the SDR2 Pekoyama and Fuyuhiko black curry they offered at Namjatown a few years back. Still, black curry has a bitterness that I don’t really care for. The cheese stars and tomatoes were a nice addition, and the meat was very tender.

The fondant chocolate was the best thing I ate. Smooth and chocolatey, I enjoyed it the most. There was enough on the plate to leave me satisfied and the frozen fruits added some great tartness to the sweet chocolate.

As for drinks...I will say that Iruma’s strawberry milk was great. Strawberry syrup and raspberry syrup (raspberries are one of my favorite fruits) was fantastic. The milk was cold and refreshing.

The bad:

The breakfast set’s pancakes were dry, really dry. They tasted good but were overall forgettable. The Spanish omelettes were COLD! Almost frozen cold. It’s a shame because they would have been the best part if they had been heated. Oddly enough the best part of the meal was the salad and smoked salmon.

Shirogane’s drink would have been PERFECT except for that damn tonic water. It’s so overpowering and just made the drink super bitter.

Kiibo’s drink was fine, but unimpressive. It really just tasted like Red Bull....and honestly, that’s really all it was. Unsurprisingly, Red Bull and ginger ale tastes like Red Bull.

And by far the worst thing I ordered on the menu was Amami’s matcha milk. I LOVE matcha milk but this drink was WEIRD. I mentioned this to Jess, but it tasted EXACTLY like Burt’s Bees Beeswax Lip Balm. To anyone who has ever used Burt’s Bees stuff, I’m sure you can imagine that smell. Now make that smell a hot liquid and drink. Not good.

Conclusion:

Like the original Stellamap DR cafe from a few weeks back, it was so-so. I don’t think I’d go again unless someone was paying for me. The food was more of a disappointment and the Amami drink was just bad. Still, parts of the dishes I ate were WONDERFUL (chocolaaaaate) and if I could somehow get my hands on more of that strawberry milk, I’d drink that all day long. Some aspects improved while others were not as good. I think I’m sticking with 3/10!

For my 3 dishes and 4 drinks, I paid ¥7300 or about $70 USD.

I love going to these limited time dining establishments. Hopefully we get a Pasela brand DR cafe next year. I like those the best. They’re from the same organization that runs the FFXIV cafe!

[theyearoftheking]

Book Thirty-Nine: The Green Mile

Hoooooly crap, y’all! This is the halfway point of this project: I’ve read thirty-nine books, and I have approximately thirty-nine more to go (depending what Steve releases before the end of the year). And honestly? If it wasn’t for COVID, and quarantine, and lots of time traveling (pre-COVID, of course); I wouldn’t have reached the halfway point. This probably would have turned into a two year project. But here we are, diving into The Green Mile!

Of all the Steve books, I dreaded re-reading The Green Mile the most. I had originally read it when it was first published, and it came out in chapters every few weeks. I’d breathlessly tear through a chapter, only to have to wait for the next one to be released. It was a pretty fun format, and I really wish I still had my original chapters. Oh well. 

But this time around, I didn’t think I was in the right head-space to read it, and the world sure as hell isn’t in the right head-space. The Green Mile was published in 1996, and takes place in 1932. It could very well have been set in our current climate. Just a few quotes for you...

“He got (his sentence) commuted mostly because he was white...”

“I think we have to be humane and generous to solve the race problem. But we have to remember that your negro will bite if he gets the chance, just like a mongrel dog will bite if he gets the chance and it crosses his mind to do so.” 

“John Coffey is a Negro, and in Trapingus County we’re awful particular about giving new trials to Negros...” 

NOTHING HAS FUCKING CHANGED SINCE 1932!! We are still hearing these same sentiments from people claiming, “I’m not a racist, but...” Our judicial system is still biased against POC, and the rate of incarceration for POC compared to whites is staggering. 

NOTHING HAS FUCKING CHANGED. And that’s the part that makes me the most sad. So, yeah, I wasn’t looking forward to cracking The Green Mile in our current climate. 

Few Steve books have touched me the way this one did. A fellow Constant Reader pointed out, “This is one of the only stories where he showcases the forces of good. We usually get ghosts and demons, but John Coffey may be the closest thing he has ever wrote of an angel...” Hot damn, Sam Beall, you’re not wrong. 

But in addition to forces of good, we’ve also got Percy Wetmore; who I feel is the nastiest Steve villain ever... he makes Randall Flagg and The Crimson King look like dudes who drink matcha lattes at a cat cafe, and compare notes on their polarized sunglasses. Percy Wetmore immediately activates my, “must kick hard in the junk” reflex. He. Is. The. Worst.

The Green Mile is told from the POV of Paul Edgecombe; a prison guard on “the green mile;” which is where convicted killers awaiting the death penalty are housed. “The green mile” refers to the long hallway inmates have to walk down to get to the electric chair.

 The story kicks off when John Coffey (like the drink but spelled different) is accused and found guilty of brutally raping and murdering two little blonde twin girls. He’s found on a riverbank, clutching their bodies, and crying, “I couldn’t help it, I tried to take it back, but it was too late...” 

So, Coffey makes his way onto The Mile, and shares space with Eduard Delacroix and his pet mouse Mr. Jingles; and William Wharton (Billy the Kid, or Wild Billy, depending on the day). Delacroix is French southern gentleman found guilty of murder, and then arson to hide the murder scene. He’s a bad guy... don’t get me wrong... but there’s something intensely likable about him. Maybe it’s the pet mouse he’s trained, maybe it’s his meek nature that Percy (another prison guard) takes advantage of... I don’t know. But you grow to like him, and the relationship he has with Mr. Jingles. Mr. Jingles randomly showed up one day, and the guards (except Percy) were all taken with him. After Percy attempts to smash him with a club, he takes to Delacroix and whispers in his ear that his name is Mr. Jingles. 

William Wharton is another story. He’s a wild card, who upon his arrival, promptly tries to strangle a prison guard. He also spits masticated Moon Pie at another guard. Sooo, he’s a lot of fun. 

The three of them live on the wing, and the first up for execution is Delacroix. Percy has a particular hatred of him, he claims he tried to grab his junk once. It didn’t happen... Del just got yanked along when he was in handcuffs and fell in Percy’s lap. The day before his execution, Percy thinks it might be fun to kill Mr. Jingles. Like I said... total fucking asshole. He stomps on him, and Del loses it. Mr. Jingles is the only thing he loves in the whole world... and maybe the only thing that loves him back. 

Thinking quickly, Coffey asks for Mr. Jingles little mousy body. Speaking of junk grabbing, he grabbed Paul and cured the UTI he had brewing for weeks. So, Paul is hopeful Coffey can use his miraculous healing abilities to do it again. And he does! Mr. Jingles lives!

But Percy’s not done being a scab on the balls of society. The night of Del’s execution, he tells him Mr. Jingles isn’t going to Mouseville like Paul promised he was (total lie- like telling kids a dog is going to live on a farm). And then, Percy doesn’t wet the sponge before placing it on Del’s head prior to his execution, so it’s horrible, painful and just horrible. So, Del is dead, Percy plays the, “I don’t know what happened!” card, and Mr. Jingles is gone. My heart. Of all the scenes in the book, I was dreading this one the most. 

Meanwhile, the prison warden, Hal Moores is struggling with the fact his wife Melinda has a massive brain tumor, and it’s starting to change her personality. He doesn’t know what to do. Paul thinks they should pack Coffey up, and take him out to the Moores’s house and have him heal Melinda. 

It’s a crazy idea, but it ends up working. The other prison guards drug Billy; and  put Percy in a straitjacket and throw him in the supply closet so he doesn’t notice anything is amiss. They tell him it’s payback for how Del’s death went down. So, they race out to see Hal and Melinda, and Coffey does his thing. They race back to the prison, and no one notices they’ve been gone. However, Coffey is in a bad way. This was much more healing than he’s used to doing, and he’s mentally and physically exhausted.

After they release Percy from the supply closet, Coffey grabs him and “kisses” him: which transfers the sick energy he got from Melinda into Percy. Percy then turns around, and shoots Wild Billy/Billy the Kid dead; and then becomes catatonic. 

He’s then carted off to the psych ward, which is too good for him. Fiery pits of hell would have been better. 

But wait!

Plot twist! Billy the Kid had briefly touched Coffey, and Coffey learned HE was the one who had killed the two little girls.  Paul puts this together as well, and tries to fight for Coffey’s release. He realizes Coffey’s words,  “I couldn’t help it, I tried to take it back, but it was too late...” were about his inability to heal the girls, not his guilt.

 When I had read the revelation the first time, I flew through the end, hoping and praying justice would be served, and Coffey wouldn’t be executed. Bad things didn’t happen to good people like John Coffey, right? Oh, how naive. There were A LOT of tears. 

But Coffey is at peace with his upcoming execution. He tells Paul, “I’m rightly tired of the pain I hear and feel, boss. I’m tired of bein on the road, lonely as a robin in the rain. Not ever havin no buddy to go on with or tell me where we’s comin from or goin to or why. I’m tired of people bein ugly to each other. It feels like pieces of glass in my head. I’m tired of all the times I’ve wanted to help and couldn’t. I’m tired of bein in the dark. Mostly it’s the pain. There’s too much...”

That right there makes me cry every damn time I read it. 

So, Coffey is executed, and life continues on; as it always seems to do. Paul is actually writing this story in his old age, at the  Georgia Pines nursing home. There’s an orderly there who’s just as evil as Percy, and he keeps trying to follow Paul on his daily walks outside. Where’s Paul going??? 

TO SEE MR. JINGLES!!! 

Yes! He’s still alive! It seems when Coffey healed people, it added onto their life expectancy. Mr. Jingles was still alive, and Paul was one hundred and four years old. But he knew his time was coming. He reflects on the loss of his beautiful wife, the people he knew on the Green Mile, the guards he worked with, and that mile seems LONG. 

Such a sad, beautiful end to an incredible work. This is another one I recommend to people who tell me they don’t like Stephen King. Try it... you’ll like it... when your heart is done breaking that is...

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 27

Total Dark Tower References: 38

Book Grade: A+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Needful Things: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Christine: D

The Tommyknockers: D-

Next is Desperation, which I know nothing about, other than it’s a real chonk of a book. 

Do me a favor, please? Stop being ugly to each other. Stop hurting gentle people like John Coffey. Please and thank you.

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights,

Rebecca

[rapperkookz]

Rush!BTΣ — college!au, borderline crack au w @cynoirsure

a story about three friends and their obstacles of relationships, academic probation, and figuring out that international kids aren’t all that bad.

28/35

word count: 2.4k

genre: fluff, crack

— 

Your POV

“First of all, you guys can’t be wearing any of our letters. y/n especially, you can’t be wearing your sigma phi hoodie. Jinhee can probably detect it from a mile away if she doesn’t already have prior tunnel vision for Yoongi. Wear basic clothes and keep your looks incognito, because everyone’s curious how these dumbasses are going to finally get together.�� Seokjin paced around the meeting room in the student center, the other boys of Beta Tau and you looking how Seokjin was rambling.

Hoseok was the first to stand up, his arm sliding around his flatmate’s shoulder. “Hey, Seokjin hyung, you good?” Seokjin looked clearly distraught about his two friends, nodding weakly.

“Yeah, this has just been a long time coming and now that it’s finally happening, I’m so nervous. What if they don’t actually like each other? I literally watched them kiss and I don’t know if they like each other.” Seokjin rambled on once more. Taehyung stood up as well, pulling Seokjin into a hug.

“It’ll be alright, Big!” Taehyung beamed brightly at Seokjin, which cheered up Seokjin instantly. “Besides, you should know the best about those two getting together, considering you’re so close to them!” Taehyung nodded. Seokjin hummed in agreement, sighing.

“Taehyung’s right. They should be getting to the cafe soon, shouldn’t they? We should get going.” Namjoon stood up, extending a hand to you so you could get up. You cursed a little to yourself while getting up, almost stumbling over. The president held you steady before Jungkook and you went back to your dorm to change into something more lowkey. You all agreed to go to the cafe in small groups, in order to not attract attention by being a large group of particularly loud college students.

--

Thanks, Nature Cafe was always some sorta safe place for Jinhee and Seokjin to meet up on weekends when Jinhee wanted to go study, not only for the aesthetic, but also for the sheep there. The sheep in addition to the cafe was only a bonus to the two, the two of them only finding out about the sheep after visiting the cafe in real life. The first time the two went there, Seokjin had to physically drag Jinhee away from the sheep, Jinhee sobbing uncontrollably about how cute the sheep were.

It wasn’t abnormal for them to stay late, but they almost never went to the cafe on weekdays, and Seokjin never paid for Jinhee at cafes. To say Jinhee was a little confused was an understatement, but nonetheless, the offer of free food? She could never refuse that.

She opened the door to the cafe, the owners greeting her and immediately recognizing her when she walked in. She gave them a small greeting back, shrugging off her windbreaker and taking out her earbuds before setting her backpack down at the back corner of the cafe where her and Seokjin usually sat down at.

Jinhee checked her phone once more for any texts from Seokjin, biting her lip. She thought Seokjin would be at the cafe by the time she had arrived, that was usually the case if he invited her out to the cafe. She sighed, pursing her lips before looking at the planner on her phone once more. She had to write a paper for her music history class, so she decided she would work on that first and order a purple yam latte and whenever Seokjin would come in, she’d force him to buy him everything that had the word “matcha” in it. She took out her laptop and her card, going up to the counter to order her latte. She was lost in thought that she didn’t hear the doorbell ring, and a familiar voice call out her name.

“Jinhee? What are you doing here?” Yoongi tapped her shoulder, almost immediately spotting the singer in the line because of her bright -- dyed in an ombré of purple -- hair. She flinched, calming down immediately when she saw him.

“Oh, hi Yoongi!” She smiled at him, giving him a shy smile. “Well, me and Seokjinie were gonna study here, but I guess he’s running late, so I was just gonna order something before he came…” Jinhee pursed her lips. She got to the front of the line, asking for a purple yam latte and quickly swiping her card. Yoongi furrowed his brows, following suit and ordering an iced americano after she was done.

“That’s funny, because Seokjin invited me out to this cafe too—“ Yoongi’s conversation was cut short when he heard her text tone go off, a customized “HEY STOB IT” set by Seokjin and meant that someone had texted her, as well as the small default ding! from Yoongi’s phone. The both of them pulled out their phones, checking the little group chat that Seokjin had set for them.

Have fun on your date, you two ♡

Jinhee’s face went red, looking up at Yoongi, who’s ears were only tinted a light pink. The both of their drinks came out, the barista cooing.

“Aw, you two look nervous, have fun on your date, you two!” The barista smiled, leaving them to walk back to the seat where Jinhee had placed down her stuff. The two of them sat down, Jinhee’s hands cupping her iced latte while Yoongi’s cup was a little off to the side, his hands free.

“Ah, seriously…” Jinhee laughed nervously, suddenly anxious in the situation that Seokjin had placed her in. Yoongi only smiled at the younger one, reaching over and sliding his hands over the ones that were nervously picking at the cup’s sleeve.

“A date, huh?” Yoongi smiled, his thumb circling the junction between her index and thumb. He felt the girl relax under his touch, a giggle bubbling from her. “Well, miss Jinhee, is there anything about me you’d like to know that Seokjin hasn’t already exposed about me or that I haven’t told you myself?” Yoongi smiled softly at her, the younger one grinning back at him.

“Hm? Seokjinie likes to keep your information secret, maybe he was saving it for you to tell me when we go out or something.” Jinhee giggled, one of her hands going to cover her laugh while the other one slowly clasped his hand in hers. Their fingers intertwined, her hand squeezing his gently. “Let’s start off with the first one, why did it take us so long to go out on a date? You even kissed me! Twice!” Jinhee whined, Yoongi’s laugh melodious in her ears.

“Well, technically, it was only one kiss, the one at the concert was an accident…” Yoongi nervously scratched at his neck. Jinhee softened under his gaze, pulling away to drink her latte. She hummed softly, her eyes trailing to study Yoongi’s features. Even if he was known for dyeing his hair an awful lot as well, he was giving it a break by dyeing it to a brown for the last stretch of the semester, but nonetheless his hair looked soft and she just wanted to run her fingers through his hair.

The two were so engrossed in their date, which went back and forth from the two of them working on her music history paper and the two of them just learning more about each other, that they couldn’t hear the other people coming into the cafe.

“Oppa can we go see the sheep outside?”

“Shh, y/n you’re gonna blow our cover!” Jimin hissed at you, tugging the bill of your hat down more. You huffed, munching at the berry waffles Seokjin had bought you so that they wouldn’t get kicked out of the cafe. You peeked up to watch the couple in question, raising an eyebrow at them.

“What’s on your mind?” Kevin slid into the booth with you and Jimin, sipping from his own iced peach tea. You frowned, leaning onto your best friend as you chewed slowly, looking at the two.

“I can’t believe unnie really held out that long.” You joked, laughing a little. “They look so happy, like he makes her as happy as Seokjin oppa does but jesus, I didn’t think they’d take this long to get together.”

“y/n, they’re both queer as fuck, it’s just a natural process for them to live in constant fear of making the first move.” Kevin laughed softly, looking up to see if he was caught by anyone. “Seriously, case in point, if Tae wasn’t drunk that night he confessed to me, we wouldn’t be together right now.”

You two both laughed at that statement, looking at the rest of your crew. Seokjin and Jungkook were seated closely to where the date was happening, and everything from both ends seemed to go smoothly. You stood up, nudging Kevin and gesturing to the sheep, looking at him with puppy dog eyes as a silent plea to go see the sheep. Kevin, more forgiving than under the strict hand of Jimin, willingly went over to the sheep with you.

“When do you wanna go?” Yoongi looked up from her computer, Jinhee looking up from her planner. Jinhee pursed her lips, humming and tilting her head side to side.

“Hm, I guess we can go after you’re done revising the new things? I honestly chose the topic of George Gershwin because singing in Porgy and Bess made me super knowledgeable about him but it’s such a blessing that you know so much about him too from a non-vocalist perspective.” Jinhee joked, smiling at Yoongi. Yoongi smiled softly back, his heart stopping momentarily at her smile. He finished up the task at hand, pushing her laptop back to her after gently closing the top. The two of them began to pack up, Yoongi only needing to put his jacket on and helping out Jinhee with putting her things away in her bag.

“Too bad Seokjinie never actually showed up, he owes me big time…” Jinhee giggled, standing up and putting the last of her stuff in her bag. As if Seokjin had heard her, she looked down at her phone to a Venmo notification from the said man, her face going bright red at the memo line before hiding it from Yoongi by shoving her phone back in her bag.

“Anywhere you had in mind to go after this? I was thinking we could just walk around and find places to chill if it isn’t too much.” Yoongi held out his hand while Jinhee pulled on her backpack. As if on instinct, her fingers laced with his, her hand gently squeezing his while they walked out onto the streets. They continued to talk about the music program, although Yoongi had a different concentration from her, the curriculum seemed to overlap between the two.

“Mr. Park for jazz theory is rough, but he’s a good guy. I think I understand jazz a little better now, but it’s so hard after my head’s been in classical theory for so long.” Yoongi reflected as they made their way to a park nearby. Jinhee only laughed at his comment, shaking her head.

“God, jazz is such a different playing field. Back in high school I had to take a jazz class and I couldn’t even improv for 2 measures on G minor. That was me playing an instrument, though. I think I’d be worse scatting.” She sighed, the both of them stopping at a small pavilion in front of a lily pond. Yoongi gestured for her to sit down, following suit soon after she had sat down.

“I heard the kiddo is good at scat, maybe if we go out on a double date with him and y/n you can learn through osmosis.” Yoongi chuckled, Jinhee raising an eyebrow before scooting as close to Yoongi as possible.

“A double date already, Yoongi? Aren’t you getting a bit too ahead of yourself?” Jinhee teased, Yoongi smirking before he tilted the singer’s head up to make eye contact with him.

“Not like I’ve been fantasizing dates with you all semester or anything, maybe even longer but who’s even keeping track?” Yoongi chuckled, leaning in slowly for a kiss and giving Jinhee a chance to pull back. Their lips almost meet in a slow kiss, but before they could kiss, they hear a scream that seems a bit too familiar.

“THIS DRAGONFLY LITERALLY JUST RAN INTO MY FACE OH MY GOD GET IT OFF!!!” The scream seemed to echo through the park, snapping the musicians out of their little bubble. Jinhee’s brows furrowed, pulling away from Yoongi.

“That definitely sounded like Hoseokie, didn’t it?” Jinhee wondered aloud, Yoongi nooding. The two of them got up from the tiny pavilion, walking around to pinpoint the sound.

“ABORT MISSION WE’RE YEETING OUT OF HERE—“ Hoseok continued to yell, tripping on the grass and emerging from behind a nearby tree. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi, the older one immediately going over to Hoseok and pulling him up.

“Hoseok?? Where’d you go—“ Seokjin removed his sunglasses to see Jinhee looking at him in disbelief, furrowing her brows. The younger one opened her mouth to say something, but then closed her mouth and then sighed.

“... Who else is here?” You, Jungkook, and Kevin peeked out from behind the shared newspaper at the bench nearby, laughing nervously.

“Jimin, Tae, and Joon are on their way, we just wanted to make it less conspicuous because it would be easy to point out a group of eight.” Seokjin confessed, the singer crossing her arms. “To be fair, you two didn’t know we were following you two till Hoseok yelled.” The eldest made his last remark, a facepalm echoing from nearby (which was probably Kevin).

“You know what time it is? I think our res at Mosu is soon.” Yoongi slid up next to Jinhee, the younger one caught by surprise by both the restaurant name and Yoongi’s action. He winked at her, the younger one catching on and her mood making a complete 180.

“Suddenly, I don’t remember about Jinie’s tomfoolery. We’re gonna go now byebye!” Jinhee dismissed the others quickly, bolting off with Yoongi to the restaurant. Taehyung slung an arm around his dumbfounded big, a grin on his face as the rest of them watched new couple go.

“See biggie, nothing to worry about!”

6-3-19

[shankmeharder]

Daily Goodie Box(free and full of treats)

Daily Goodie Box is a lovely service that, once you sign up for it, awards free goodie boxes(a new box every month) to its subscribers. The best way to get picked for a free box is to be active on their social media and generally be very open with your opinions. After doing just that, I was awarded one for this month. Now one of the great things about this box, is that (as they love to remind you)  It's more than just Free Samples! The fullsize products they include(in addition to a couple sample size ones) allow you to make the fullest use of the product and really see if you like it, and want to add it to your routine,kitchen, or cleaning roster. I’ve decided to put my own assessment out there and after a week of testing, the reviews are in. The links for each product, or their brand website, are listed below their respective reviews.

Starting with the snacks.

First we have Sweet Potato Puffs by Spudsy in the Crunchy Cinnamon Variety.Now these I can see being a bit polarizing. First bite is not a great indicator for potential. You get a puff of cinnamon that slowly cedes the stage to the texture which is a bit like a rice puff but a tad less springy, not necessarily super appealing. However, in the spirit of giving it a fair shake, I gave it another go. By the fourth (tiny) puff, I was actually pretty delighted with them. They are not overly sweet, they don’t have any kind of unfortunate aftertaste, and it becomes easy to go through them.My daughter and  I finished the teeny sample bag before i knew it, and were a bit crestfallen when we realized it. I would definitely recommend these as a toddler or childrens’ snack, as they do remind me a bit of those other very popular puffs and may provide a similar and appealing texture to the young ones.I know my Bean was absolutely enamored of them. https://spudsy.com/collections/sweet-potato-puffs

Next, we have the Gluten-Free Granola by Bakery on Main. This is the Cranberry Almond Maple variety, and let me tell you, I did not have high hopes for this product. I am not a huge granola person, a lot of them are too sugary or too dry and they just don’t appeal. This blew me out of the water. The maple flavor is very present but it doesn’t overwhelm everything. The bean crisps were a wild card for me and I found them delightful, just enough crunch and chew, and they were complimented very well by the tart dried cranberries. The almonds and seeds are lovely, nothing to write home about, but exactly what you would hope for in the Granola/ Trail mix hybrid. My only fuss, I wouldn’t mind a slightly higher cranberry to bean crisp ratio. This is honestly delightful, and the 1.1 oz bag is actually the perfect size for a quick snack on the go, or a little workout energy boost. https://bakeryonmain.com/shop/cranberry-almond-maple-granola/

Now on to the tea

For our beverage offering we have Tipson tea in, Honey&Lemon Matcha Infusion. I will cop to the fact that I tend to be more of a coffee person, but lately I’ve been trying to cut back, drink more water, drink more tea. However, I am a sucker for homey and lemon, so this was providence. I’m not the biggest Matcha fan, but again, I give everything its fair trial before i pass a verdict. I brewed a cup to have with our previously mentioned snacks. The tea is definitely lemony, probably one of the most overtly fruit flavored teas, short of something pre-chilled and sold in a tall can, that I’ve ever had.The honey, however, loses its way and is hard to taste behind all that lemon. The matcha, being that this is a “matcha infusion” is also pretty hard to get, which is fine with me. I prefer subtle matcha. After my initial taste, I fixed it the way I normally fix my tea, with milk and (extra) honey, and it was lovely. I would recommend using honey if you want to taste it, but it is a lovely tea, nonetheless, and I’ll be enjoying each of my twenty-four remaining cups. https://www.amazon.com/tipson

First up in health and beauty is the face mask.

Here is the detoxifying peel mask by Que Bella. I’ve made it no secret that this is the item I was most excited to try. On opening the packet, it seemed there was not an overabundance of product, and I feared I might have to use both packets for one mask. My fears were mostly allayed, when one packet proved to be just enough for one layer. The smell of the mask is quite pleasant, not overwhelming, in fact you become used to it quite quickly. The consistency is a bit thinner than I was expecting, but I smeared it on and geared up for the slightly painful peeling to come. The mask started to tighten within about three minutes of finishing the application, and it was lovely to sit in front of the fan with it on, like sticking your face into a cool mountain spring. I opted to wait the twenty-five minutes it suggests on the package, as I am the type of person that will keep poking and prodding and checking to see if it’s dry, unless I rein myself in.The peeling was not nearly as painful as some of the others I have tried, but i attribute that in part to my artful avoidance of my hairline, and how very thin the mask was. It was also quite a quick ordeal, and none of my peach fuzz got yanked out, so I call that a win. Upon removal, my cheeks continued feeling the “mountain spring” sensation for quite a while, probably fifteen minutes or so. My cheeks were noticeably smoother, as was my nose. My skin didn’t redden excessively, or puff up like I’d  been stung, so on all accounts, I’d give this mask two thumbs up. https://www.quebellabeauty.com/product-page/que-bella-professional-detoxifying-intense-black-peel-off-mask

In our health selection, this month we were sent Napz, a drug free, non-habit forming, sleep aid. To preface this review, I am a nocturnal hermit gremlin and I almost never fall asleep before 3 a.m. In my (almost) week of usage, I found these were better for kicking my butt in the last hour before succumbing, than forcing myself into premature sleep. They do create a subtle drowsiness, but like most herbal remedies and aids, I think you must be very receptive to it, and do what you can to maximize its efficacy. The directions recommend taking an hour before desired bed time for best results. On the nights when i took it at midnight I did fall asleep 1 to 2 hours earlier. But taking it any earlier than that did me no good, as I just was not close enough to sleep. Would I recommend this to an insomniac, or someone with a preternaturally screwy circadian rhythms like me? Probably not, at least not in an attempt to “normalize” a sleep schedule. Would I recommend this to someone trying to get an extra hour before exams, or even just for relaxation? Hell yes! https://www.napz.com/

This month we were provided with QuickStop! bandages by Curad. Wooo bandages! No sarcasm, I go through these like no ones business. Between blood thinners, a compulsion to pick my fingers, and an adventurous toddler, I constantly have plasters on, and my daughter goes through a couple a week. They are usually some cute design that I either bleed through, or that falls off within an hour, so anything that claims to stop bleeding faster, and stay on my damn fingers/toes/elbow/daughters knees. is a beacon of hope for me and my blood-stained button-ups. Now these were a interesting test, as I literally had to wait for myself to bleed, and like a watched pot, my finger refused to boil-I mean- you know what I mean. Yesterday I finally had an excuse to use them, oddly enough on a paper cut, and a needle prick. Apparently my self control was great this week, probably because I was thinking about it so much. Now when one is on blood thinners, they bleed a bit longer and a bit more than usual. Typically we are just instructed to apply more pressure and be patient, but if I get cut while dealing with a crying toddler (as is my luck) I may not have a free hand to apply pressure while trying to prevent a nuclear meltdown. Indeed, I didn’t need one. It was story time before bed, she was fussing and fighting sleep with the best of them, and wouldn’t you know it, my finger slips and I get a massive, (honestly, a little scary) deep, paper cut on my thumb. The Bean sees this and starts to cry more because Baba/Mama is bleeding and oh my gosh this is terrible. I pull a bandage out of my stash in her dresser and pop it on. No bleeding through, no leakage, immediately my thumb is story ready and suddenly there is no more reason to cry because “ooo mommy, what’s this?”.Despite her best efforts she couldn’t tear it off, and I got a toddler to bed without getting blood all over the sheets. Win-Win. The needle prick was less dire, but it happened while sewing a teddy bear up last night, and it lasted through my tossing sleep, and all this typing, so, again, I’ll call it a win.  http://curad.com/quick-stop/

Pertaining to health and hygiene, the goodie box bestowed upon us...an oral rinse? I’m game, in fact I was sort of looking forward to this one, as I’ve just changed toothpastes and was considering adding another component to my routine. I don’t particularly care about the whitening aspect but on all other accounts I’d like to have a good rinse in my arsenal. This is unfortunately not it, at least not for me. It is described as “peppermint” but it more of a lemongrass/torture flavor. There is no tingle or sensation of freshness that comes with it, in fact it makes me want to rinse my mouth with something stronger. After a week of usage with my brushing routine(evenings only for this product) I did not notice a change in whiteness, and there seemed to be no breath freshening component, my toothpaste was pulling all the weight there. Maybe to someone who follows the “pristine protocol” with the recommended line of products, this would be useful. However, just throwing this into your routine, as far as I can tell, will not cause a noticeable change in dental hygiene or emotional fulfillment.  https://essentialoxygen.com/products/organic-brushing-rinse/

Last on our list of goodies we have our only household item.

Ode to Clean cleansing wipes. These are billed as “all-purpose” wipes and claim to be skin safe and cruelty free, so what do i have to lose? Answer? Maybe my old wipes. I love these, I have finicky skin, I can’t get poison ivy, but i can get chemical burns from a couple drops of gasoline. So I never know what I’m in for with “skin safe” products. In this case, no reaction to be recorded. No welts, hives, rashes, etc. I tried them out on dried liquids, liquefied solids, and even some caked on semi-solids (I have a toddler, a lot of messes get made). They work like a dream. The scent is a bit citrus-y and a bit herbal, certainly not bad, but also not what you might be used to. They don’t leave behind too much of the scent, which is just fine with me, and they take all the mess with them, too. The only downside? I don’t have a full pack of them. 

https://odetoclean.com/products/ode-to-clean-wipes

Well there you have it, July’s Daily Goodie Box in a nutshell. If you would like the opportunity to to be awarded a future box with more full and sample size goodies, simply sign up at dailygoodiebox.com and start making yourself heard on their social media. They give out tons of boxes every day, you could get one next.

Have a great day, my little void children.

[easyfoodnetwork]

Cooking Solo in the Woods

When an escape to a rural Vermont cabin means scenic beauty, isolation, and hopefully outrunning the stubborn ghost of a five-pound roast chicken that’s been haunting you for weeks

Clio Chang is a freelance writer based in Brooklyn. When not traveling alone, she covers politics, culture, and more.

One night, early in quarantine, I roasted a whole chicken. I had just isolated myself in a friend’s empty one-bedroom apartment, away from my roommates, and was celebrating living alone, however temporarily, for the first time in my life. I bought a five-pound honker, lugged it home in my straining bike bag, and prepared it the same way I usually did: I went heavy on the salt and pepper; skipped the trussing because literally what am I, a chef; threw the chicken over some vegetables; and shoved the whole thing in the oven for a couple of hours. It wasn’t until I sat down to carve and eat it that I realized what I had done. I had made five whole pounds of chicken, plus a Thanksgiving meal’s worth of roasted vegetables, for just one person.

People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one. As I quickly found out, it’s far easier to make too much rather than just enough. And guests will usually lie and tell you something tastes good, on top of bringing over beer and wine to wash down whatever you make.

People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one.

I ate that chicken for weeks. I ate it in sandwiches, I ate it on ramen, I ate it straight out of the refrigerator when I excused myself from a Zoom hang to “grab a beer.” I made broth from the bones, even though I don’t really like broth, because honestly, what better things did I have to do? Eating chicken and chicken byproducts became my job, which I did better than my actual job, from which I was later laid off. And yet I still had chicken left over, a Strega Nona-style cursed reminder that not only was I alone, I was alone alone.

Months later, as I set off for my first trip outside of New York City in four months, I was still thinking about my isolation chicken. I hadn’t left Brooklyn since March, aside from two stints into Manhattan for protests and noodles, and I had imagined it would feel like a satisfying, full-body stretch. It would be my first time driving a car in months, my first time moving more than 30 miles per hour, my first time seeing the green rolling hills that lined the highways on the way to my destination, a small A-frame cabin in the mountains of Vermont that I’d found at the last minute on Airbnb. But all I could really think about was the chicken.

Out of Brooklyn, into the idyllic wilds of Vermont

My goal was to take a vacation — to escape, even for a brief moment — as safely as possible during the pandemic. I would be doing the trip solo, which might feel less like a break and more like a test. I would be taking time for myself after months of having more time to myself than I’d had in my entire life. Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties?

But I was determined to enjoy my four days off. After all, my world was going to suddenly expand in an explosive way: I would get to see regional billboards, smell the forest air, hear the sounds of nothing at night. I resolved to not ruin it by creating another monster; a constant, edible reminder of the fact that I could not share a space or a table or a trip with my family and friends.

Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties?

The day I left, Brooklyn was in the middle of a heat wave with little reprieve, and the air was swollen and heavy. Because I was going from a high-density area to a low-density area, I resolved to buy all of my groceries before I got out of the city, stopping at H-Mart on the way. I’d had “make a grocery list” on my to-do list for days, but the ghost of my chickens past did not help me overcome my extreme laziness, and I did not, in fact, “make a grocery list.” With no plan, I ended up buying a random assortment of foods, including four pieces of cooked mackerel, one steak, one conch, 12 clams, a packet of matcha sponge cake, king oyster mushrooms, and the kind of eggplant that is both long and sexy. As I walked out of the grocery store, I passed a Trader Joe’s that had an endless line of people waiting six feet apart to enter. I felt smugly superior until I got to the car and realized that my impulse mackerel purchase was stinking up the whole backseat. A friend, of course, would have gently advised against the idea.

A campfire for one

Lunch at the lake, accompanied by the promise of a lazy summer afternoon

The only thing I hate more than being alone is coordinating with others, so I’ve ended up on many solo trips. Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people. Any solo vacation movie will tell you this: In Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, Lily James (as a young Meryl Streep) goes off to Greece alone, only to meet and befriend the three men who become co-fathers of her child, one to two Greek people, and a horse. The movie ends with James singing a number with all of her new friends and family, including Meryl Streep (as an old Lily James).

And then there’s Under the Tuscan Sun, which revolves around a recently divorced Diane Lane, sent by friends to go alone on a gay tour of romantic Tuscany. Lane, who is straight, gamely dons a hat that reads “Gay & Away,” and by the end of the movie she ends up with a new house filled to the brim with the patchwork family she has collected on her trip. One of the Polish workers Lane hires to renovate her house sums up her situation most succinctly when he asks her to join them for dinner: “It’s unhealthy to eat alone.”

This trail, while lovely, did not lead to the ghost of Meryl Streep.

Movies tend to exaggerate, but on my own solo vacations, I almost always manage to con someone into being my friend, even if just for a day. But this type of antisocial trip, where I wouldn’t interact with anyone, was new for me. (This particular region of Vermont was also new to me, although one friend helpfully told me that my cabin was two towns away from where she played high school soccer.) I got tested for COVID-19 a week before the trip, but because the results hadn’t arrived when I left, I decided to be extra cautious and avoid seeing anyone when I arrived at my destination. I passed farm stands, imagining all the chats I could have with Polish workers, and spurned pit stops for coffee, thus eliminating the possibility of meeting the ghost of Meryl Streep.

Because I was literally not here to make friends, I ended up inventing them. When I was about an hour from my destination, my car kept flashing an image of a coffee mug and asking me, Do you want to take a break? I thought this was both rude and forward. But I found myself saying back, “No, haha, I’m fine,” somewhat fondly. Ten minutes later, as I craned my neck to look at a billboard advertising fine homemade furniture, my car started screaming “BRAKE! BRAKE!!” I also started screaming and we screamed and slammed on the brake together to avoid hitting the car in front of us, which had slowed down to turn. “Car is friend,” I thought to myself.

Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people.

When I got to the cabin and stepped outside the car, I was immediately met with a wall of crisp Vermont air. Over the next three days, I would spend most of my time hiking alone, reading under a small covered porch when it rained, or curled up in bed watching TikToks until late in the morning. Away from New York, my new surroundings were a balm, and I found myself wishing I could share them. I showed off the lush trees to friends over FaceTime, and breathed in enough air for a small city. But I resisted the urge to connect: When I trekked to a small, remote pond, I walked a wide circle around the group of teenage boys wrestling to see who could more casually throw themselves off the cliff into the water below. I stuffed away my instinct to talk to anyone, and for a small, brief moment, while I sat in the sun by the water, I felt my brain unspool with the promise of a lazy summer afternoon.

The majority of my time, though, was spent cooking. In the small cabin kitchen I made Taiwanese night market-style king oyster mushrooms, brushing them in a chile soy sauce as they grilled and tossing them with Thai basil and garlic. I made H-Mart marinated short ribs with sauteed Chinese mustard greens on the side. I cooked down the sexy eggplant with a simple teriyaki sauce made from garlic, sugar, and soy sauce, making extra to drizzle over $6 worth of flank steak for one. I also wanted to make pasta al vongole, but realized I had only bought racchette pasta — the type shaped like a tiny tennis racquet for a Hamptons mouse — because I thought it had “vacation” vibes at the time. So I ended up with a dish of clams over tennis racquets.

When your dream of pasta al vongole materializes as a dish of clams over tennis racquets

As the cabin’s only cook and diner and Yelp reviewer, I was acutely over-aware of the quality of every item of food that I made, relishing dishes when I pulled them off and despairing when I made mistakes. The memory of my isolation chicken lingered on the edges of the kitchen — as I cooked, I was careful to curb my impulse to make all the food at once, and instead cut down my portions to a manageable amount for one person. Everything took more time to make and plan than I expected, especially since I was unable to find any Tupperware in the cabin, which meant I was preparing three new meals every day. Unlike at home, I’d have to throw away whatever food I didn’t use. And so I became my own wretched Tupperware, overindulging on each dish.

Yet even though I did everything well, more or less, I still found myself tired of prepping food, cooking it, and cleaning the dishes. Completely removed from my community at home, all of this labor on behalf of myself only became more obvious. I thought about how I used to sit on the floor of my friends’ living rooms, gossiping with their discombobulated voices as they made me dinner in their kitchens. I missed the dishes that my mother would sneak hot peppers into because I “had to learn” how to tolerate spice. I thought about my favorite nights at restaurants, like the time when the table next to us got up and left and our waiter hurried over to inform us that yes, that was, in fact, the Carlos Santana.

I was also upset with myself for thinking these thoughts during a global recession when so many were struggling to feed themselves at all, and for feeling worn out by cooking for myself every day when so many were making food for entire families. I knew these feelings of guilt were useless on their own.

But what I was grasping for wasn’t really a reprieve from cooking. Rather, I missed the person I was around others. Ruth Reichl recently wrote about a night at a Paris restaurant when the maitre d’ whisked away her 8-year-old son to take part in games being organized for the neighborhood children. When her son returned, he told Reichl that he thought it was “a very fine restaurant,” to which she replied that he’d only tried the french fries and cake. “C’mon mom,” her son replied. “You know restaurants aren’t really about the food.” Those words stuck in my head for weeks. It turns out that it’s only really just about the food when you’re cooking for one.

The cabin’s kitchen, small but functional aside from its lack of Tupperware

In my isolation, I also began thinking about the idea of leisure time — specifically, the pervasive American ethos that holds that time off is an extravagance that must be earned. It’s so deeply ingrained that I even felt a pause taking my vacation, as if time off is a scarce natural resource, as if time alone is selfish. But though isolating myself further seemed somewhat redundant, taking a break had made me feel more settled and clear-headed, a feeling that should be more available, not less.

If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home. There’s something to learn from the countries where our solo vacation movie protagonists escape to — in both Greece and Italy, workers are entitled to 20 days minimum paid vacation every year, while in the United States, workers are guaranteed no paid vacation at all. If there is one thing in Under the Tuscan Sun that makes complete sense, it’s that Diane Lane never returns home.

On the day I left Vermont, I was so sick of planning and preparing food that I ended up eating a breakfast of matcha sponge cake and packed a lunch for the road, also of matcha sponge cake.

If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home.

As I started the four-hour drive to the city, I felt strangely anxious to get back. I thought about how my generation was once credited with killing both the restaurant industry and vacations, and I laughed imagining someone trying to make that argument now, as our government allowed the pandemic to destroy small businesses and communities with abandon. Even though it would be a long while until I could cook a roast chicken for my family, or meet a friend for drinks at a bar, I knew that being closer to my own community and the businesses I love still felt better than being farther away.

During those four days in Vermont, I found that there was a difference between being alone within a community and isolated from it. In the course of all my complaining, I had forgotten about the times when my friends and I would bring beers or snacks or order a pizza to hang on a stoop or at a park, or the day when my mom taught us how to make scallion pancakes over video chat. I forgot that while I was eating my big chicken, I was often chatting with friends and family over the phone, making that chicken as much a comfort as it was a curse. Even though we constantly had to negotiate with ourselves and each other — eating six feet away, bringing our own glasses, taking dinners to Zoom — we found ways to connect. There are other ways to share a table; by figuring out how, we will be able to start picking up the pieces again.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3kYVXTn https://ift.tt/32axcuI

When an escape to a rural Vermont cabin means scenic beauty, isolation, and hopefully outrunning the stubborn ghost of a five-pound roast chicken that’s been haunting you for weeks

Clio Chang is a freelance writer based in Brooklyn. When not traveling alone, she covers politics, culture, and more.

One night, early in quarantine, I roasted a whole chicken. I had just isolated myself in a friend’s empty one-bedroom apartment, away from my roommates, and was celebrating living alone, however temporarily, for the first time in my life. I bought a five-pound honker, lugged it home in my straining bike bag, and prepared it the same way I usually did: I went heavy on the salt and pepper; skipped the trussing because literally what am I, a chef; threw the chicken over some vegetables; and shoved the whole thing in the oven for a couple of hours. It wasn’t until I sat down to carve and eat it that I realized what I had done. I had made five whole pounds of chicken, plus a Thanksgiving meal’s worth of roasted vegetables, for just one person.

People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one. As I quickly found out, it’s far easier to make too much rather than just enough. And guests will usually lie and tell you something tastes good, on top of bringing over beer and wine to wash down whatever you make.

People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one.

I ate that chicken for weeks. I ate it in sandwiches, I ate it on ramen, I ate it straight out of the refrigerator when I excused myself from a Zoom hang to “grab a beer.” I made broth from the bones, even though I don’t really like broth, because honestly, what better things did I have to do? Eating chicken and chicken byproducts became my job, which I did better than my actual job, from which I was later laid off. And yet I still had chicken left over, a Strega Nona-style cursed reminder that not only was I alone, I was alone alone.

Months later, as I set off for my first trip outside of New York City in four months, I was still thinking about my isolation chicken. I hadn’t left Brooklyn since March, aside from two stints into Manhattan for protests and noodles, and I had imagined it would feel like a satisfying, full-body stretch. It would be my first time driving a car in months, my first time moving more than 30 miles per hour, my first time seeing the green rolling hills that lined the highways on the way to my destination, a small A-frame cabin in the mountains of Vermont that I’d found at the last minute on Airbnb. But all I could really think about was the chicken.

Out of Brooklyn, into the idyllic wilds of Vermont

My goal was to take a vacation — to escape, even for a brief moment — as safely as possible during the pandemic. I would be doing the trip solo, which might feel less like a break and more like a test. I would be taking time for myself after months of having more time to myself than I’d had in my entire life. Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties?

But I was determined to enjoy my four days off. After all, my world was going to suddenly expand in an explosive way: I would get to see regional billboards, smell the forest air, hear the sounds of nothing at night. I resolved to not ruin it by creating another monster; a constant, edible reminder of the fact that I could not share a space or a table or a trip with my family and friends.

Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties?

The day I left, Brooklyn was in the middle of a heat wave with little reprieve, and the air was swollen and heavy. Because I was going from a high-density area to a low-density area, I resolved to buy all of my groceries before I got out of the city, stopping at H-Mart on the way. I’d had “make a grocery list” on my to-do list for days, but the ghost of my chickens past did not help me overcome my extreme laziness, and I did not, in fact, “make a grocery list.” With no plan, I ended up buying a random assortment of foods, including four pieces of cooked mackerel, one steak, one conch, 12 clams, a packet of matcha sponge cake, king oyster mushrooms, and the kind of eggplant that is both long and sexy. As I walked out of the grocery store, I passed a Trader Joe’s that had an endless line of people waiting six feet apart to enter. I felt smugly superior until I got to the car and realized that my impulse mackerel purchase was stinking up the whole backseat. A friend, of course, would have gently advised against the idea.

A campfire for one

Lunch at the lake, accompanied by the promise of a lazy summer afternoon

The only thing I hate more than being alone is coordinating with others, so I’ve ended up on many solo trips. Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people. Any solo vacation movie will tell you this: In Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, Lily James (as a young Meryl Streep) goes off to Greece alone, only to meet and befriend the three men who become co-fathers of her child, one to two Greek people, and a horse. The movie ends with James singing a number with all of her new friends and family, including Meryl Streep (as an old Lily James).

And then there’s Under the Tuscan Sun, which revolves around a recently divorced Diane Lane, sent by friends to go alone on a gay tour of romantic Tuscany. Lane, who is straight, gamely dons a hat that reads “Gay & Away,” and by the end of the movie she ends up with a new house filled to the brim with the patchwork family she has collected on her trip. One of the Polish workers Lane hires to renovate her house sums up her situation most succinctly when he asks her to join them for dinner: “It’s unhealthy to eat alone.”

This trail, while lovely, did not lead to the ghost of Meryl Streep.

Movies tend to exaggerate, but on my own solo vacations, I almost always manage to con someone into being my friend, even if just for a day. But this type of antisocial trip, where I wouldn’t interact with anyone, was new for me. (This particular region of Vermont was also new to me, although one friend helpfully told me that my cabin was two towns away from where she played high school soccer.) I got tested for COVID-19 a week before the trip, but because the results hadn’t arrived when I left, I decided to be extra cautious and avoid seeing anyone when I arrived at my destination. I passed farm stands, imagining all the chats I could have with Polish workers, and spurned pit stops for coffee, thus eliminating the possibility of meeting the ghost of Meryl Streep.

Because I was literally not here to make friends, I ended up inventing them. When I was about an hour from my destination, my car kept flashing an image of a coffee mug and asking me, Do you want to take a break? I thought this was both rude and forward. But I found myself saying back, “No, haha, I’m fine,” somewhat fondly. Ten minutes later, as I craned my neck to look at a billboard advertising fine homemade furniture, my car started screaming “BRAKE! BRAKE!!” I also started screaming and we screamed and slammed on the brake together to avoid hitting the car in front of us, which had slowed down to turn. “Car is friend,” I thought to myself.

Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people.

When I got to the cabin and stepped outside the car, I was immediately met with a wall of crisp Vermont air. Over the next three days, I would spend most of my time hiking alone, reading under a small covered porch when it rained, or curled up in bed watching TikToks until late in the morning. Away from New York, my new surroundings were a balm, and I found myself wishing I could share them. I showed off the lush trees to friends over FaceTime, and breathed in enough air for a small city. But I resisted the urge to connect: When I trekked to a small, remote pond, I walked a wide circle around the group of teenage boys wrestling to see who could more casually throw themselves off the cliff into the water below. I stuffed away my instinct to talk to anyone, and for a small, brief moment, while I sat in the sun by the water, I felt my brain unspool with the promise of a lazy summer afternoon.

The majority of my time, though, was spent cooking. In the small cabin kitchen I made Taiwanese night market-style king oyster mushrooms, brushing them in a chile soy sauce as they grilled and tossing them with Thai basil and garlic. I made H-Mart marinated short ribs with sauteed Chinese mustard greens on the side. I cooked down the sexy eggplant with a simple teriyaki sauce made from garlic, sugar, and soy sauce, making extra to drizzle over $6 worth of flank steak for one. I also wanted to make pasta al vongole, but realized I had only bought racchette pasta — the type shaped like a tiny tennis racquet for a Hamptons mouse — because I thought it had “vacation” vibes at the time. So I ended up with a dish of clams over tennis racquets.

When your dream of pasta al vongole materializes as a dish of clams over tennis racquets

As the cabin’s only cook and diner and Yelp reviewer, I was acutely over-aware of the quality of every item of food that I made, relishing dishes when I pulled them off and despairing when I made mistakes. The memory of my isolation chicken lingered on the edges of the kitchen — as I cooked, I was careful to curb my impulse to make all the food at once, and instead cut down my portions to a manageable amount for one person. Everything took more time to make and plan than I expected, especially since I was unable to find any Tupperware in the cabin, which meant I was preparing three new meals every day. Unlike at home, I’d have to throw away whatever food I didn’t use. And so I became my own wretched Tupperware, overindulging on each dish.

Yet even though I did everything well, more or less, I still found myself tired of prepping food, cooking it, and cleaning the dishes. Completely removed from my community at home, all of this labor on behalf of myself only became more obvious. I thought about how I used to sit on the floor of my friends’ living rooms, gossiping with their discombobulated voices as they made me dinner in their kitchens. I missed the dishes that my mother would sneak hot peppers into because I “had to learn” how to tolerate spice. I thought about my favorite nights at restaurants, like the time when the table next to us got up and left and our waiter hurried over to inform us that yes, that was, in fact, the Carlos Santana.

I was also upset with myself for thinking these thoughts during a global recession when so many were struggling to feed themselves at all, and for feeling worn out by cooking for myself every day when so many were making food for entire families. I knew these feelings of guilt were useless on their own.

But what I was grasping for wasn’t really a reprieve from cooking. Rather, I missed the person I was around others. Ruth Reichl recently wrote about a night at a Paris restaurant when the maitre d’ whisked away her 8-year-old son to take part in games being organized for the neighborhood children. When her son returned, he told Reichl that he thought it was “a very fine restaurant,” to which she replied that he’d only tried the french fries and cake. “C’mon mom,” her son replied. “You know restaurants aren’t really about the food.” Those words stuck in my head for weeks. It turns out that it’s only really just about the food when you’re cooking for one.

The cabin’s kitchen, small but functional aside from its lack of Tupperware

In my isolation, I also began thinking about the idea of leisure time — specifically, the pervasive American ethos that holds that time off is an extravagance that must be earned. It’s so deeply ingrained that I even felt a pause taking my vacation, as if time off is a scarce natural resource, as if time alone is selfish. But though isolating myself further seemed somewhat redundant, taking a break had made me feel more settled and clear-headed, a feeling that should be more available, not less.

If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home. There’s something to learn from the countries where our solo vacation movie protagonists escape to — in both Greece and Italy, workers are entitled to 20 days minimum paid vacation every year, while in the United States, workers are guaranteed no paid vacation at all. If there is one thing in Under the Tuscan Sun that makes complete sense, it’s that Diane Lane never returns home.

On the day I left Vermont, I was so sick of planning and preparing food that I ended up eating a breakfast of matcha sponge cake and packed a lunch for the road, also of matcha sponge cake.

If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home.

As I started the four-hour drive to the city, I felt strangely anxious to get back. I thought about how my generation was once credited with killing both the restaurant industry and vacations, and I laughed imagining someone trying to make that argument now, as our government allowed the pandemic to destroy small businesses and communities with abandon. Even though it would be a long while until I could cook a roast chicken for my family, or meet a friend for drinks at a bar, I knew that being closer to my own community and the businesses I love still felt better than being farther away.

During those four days in Vermont, I found that there was a difference between being alone within a community and isolated from it. In the course of all my complaining, I had forgotten about the times when my friends and I would bring beers or snacks or order a pizza to hang on a stoop or at a park, or the day when my mom taught us how to make scallion pancakes over video chat. I forgot that while I was eating my big chicken, I was often chatting with friends and family over the phone, making that chicken as much a comfort as it was a curse. Even though we constantly had to negotiate with ourselves and each other — eating six feet away, bringing our own glasses, taking dinners to Zoom — we found ways to connect. There are other ways to share a table; by figuring out how, we will be able to start picking up the pieces again.

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[ayumiystica]

Q1. What is your memory of love from your days as a student?

Q2. Your girlfriend is crying. What would you do to comfort her?

Q3. June is "June Bride" season. Please tell us about your ideal marriage ceremony!

Q4. What would you do to propose a girl?

Additional questions:

QAdd1. What accessories would you give as a present for your girlfriend?

QAdd2. If you had a quarrel with your girlfriend, what would you do to make up with her?

Alan

A1. I went to cinema with the girlfriend I got right after I transferred to senior high school in Tokyo. It's my first and last date with her.

A2. First of all, I'd make her laugh. Like by getting naked, or wearing pants on my head, things with extreme feeling like that (laugh).

A3. I'd like to have it in a famous church in Europe, like in Spain or Greece.

A4. Maybe I would say it honestly, and because I couldn't just say it straightforwardly, I would casually say things like, "Wanna try getting married?" (laugh)

Add1. A necklace which is not flashy. Something casually elegant which fits any occasion.

Add2. I'd apologize though, but I'd still tease her. Even when we had quarrel, I'd joke around (laugh).

Yuta

A1. Because the girl I like was in a classroom which was close to the schoolyard, during the 10-minutes break time, I uselessly got out to the yard. I wanted her to see me.

A2. I'd hug her tightly. Only that.

A3. I'd like to dance together with the bride and all members. The members probably wouldn't lend their strength though (laugh) (Alan: You would have to pay our fee for that.)

A4. Maybe it would be like, "Please be with me forever". Something which feels safe would be good.

Add2. I'd say nothing but "Sorry" right away. I'm a type of person who will apologize even when I don't do anything wrong.

Mandy

Mandy:

A1. Since I went to all-boys school, it was just a dream. Like on Valentine's day, I thought about what might happen as I nervously go to school, but nothing happened then (laugh).

A2. Using Reo's formula, I'd give her plain hot water.

A3. I really don't know! I'd just let her do as she wished.

A4. I think I would suddenly say it in casual way. Like, "Let's get married".

Add1. I don't understand about women's things, so maybe I'd just go to the shop I usually go to and buy the thing which makes me think, "This might suit her".

Add2. I'd make a move on her and said, "Ue~i, don't get mad at meee". Because I don't like to feel awkward (laugh).

Ryota

A2. I'd like to know the cause, and I'd properly listen to her story.

A3. Resort wedding overseas. Countries in the south would be good.

A4. I wouldn't do it in a flashy way. Maybe while we watched TV together in the livingroom, though it might seem pretty lame, I'd say it without any delay on our commemoration day.

Add1. Though things which might suit that person well might be nice, maybe I'd give something small and simple. The color would be pink gold.

Add2. I'd ask her "What do you want to eat?", and then I'd invite her out for a delicious meal.

Ryuto

A2. I'd stick the tissue I used to wipe her tears into her nose. I think she would be angry, but she would also laugh, wouldn't she?

A3. Southern countries might be good. Because I really like the movie "Hangover!", I'd like to go overseas for it!

A4. It's secret (laugh).

Add1. Because I like Indian jewellery, maybe I'd give one that could be easily used by girls and doesn't look so flashy as present.

Add2. Even though she wouldn't like it, I'd hold her hand and tried to create an atmosphere where we could laugh together.

Sano

A2. I'll give her a cup of matcha latte without saying anything. Because I can't do anything else.

A3. It's a scene where every girl's dream come true, right. As a man, since I'd be embarassed to show myself in tuxedo in front of my friends, I'd rather have it in a bar (laugh).

A4. Everyday, make a meal for me! (Mandy: Are you Kanpaku Kengen?!)

Add1. It's a serious thing to give accessories as a present for a girl, and it needs courage to do that too, so I'd like to give necklace which could make me go, "Ah, this will look good on her!" as I tried it on.

Add2. I'd leave it as it is. Because she might have something to say, I'd take time to cool down my head.

Hayato

A2. I'd hug her without saying anything. (Reo: Don't say such things!)

A3. I'd like to have it at a church. But I'm also a type that goes like, "It's alright even though we don't hold wedding ceremony".

A4. In front of a fountain, wearing white suits and having a flower bouquet with me, I'd get down on my knees and said, "Please marry me!" (laugh). I'd do that, you know!

Add1. A simple ring. The one with simply one-point gem on it.

[clamjumper5-blog]

A Healthy Hedonist’s Guide to Paris: Gluten-Free Eats + Sights in the City of Love

Paris has been a gluten-free beacon of love and carbs for us over the last two years.

I’m usually not that into Hallmark holidays, but last year, for whatever reason, when Charlie told me he’d be traveling on Valentine’s Day, I got a little diva-like pit in my stomach.

I pictured myself sitting alone watching Sandra Bullock reruns with a 3-course meal of matcha truffles, modestly-priced steak, and salted caramel pudding. Then I immediately moved on to a superior alternative that made me a lot less sad: having dinner with my OG Valentine, my dad.

I don’t know why I cared so much about doing something special last year, when on most other Valentine’s Days my preference is to avoid prefix menus like the plague and do nothing at all. But I’m sure it had something to do with all the book-related work that left me craving an evening of being coddled and pampered. Other sugar daddy to the rescue!

The biggest reason I can’t give Charlie a hard time is because for my birthday this year, he already showered me with the most romantic gift a girl could ask for: a long weekend trip to Paris. Had he pulled that super Romeo move on me on February 14th, I probably would have rolled my eyes and barfed a little in my mouth (diva!). But in November it was the perfect gift. And come December, when we finally woke up on the tarmac of Charles de Gaulle airport, it was the beginning of the most make-out and food-filled trip I’ve taken in adult life.

(see?)

Paris is the city of love, yes. But for me it’s always held memories of a different type of romance. Back when I was three years old, my OG Valentine (along with my mom) moved our small nuclear family across the Atlantic for a few years. We lived a stone’s throw from Les Invalides on the Right Bank, which I used to call the Emerald City because of its gold dome and sprawling Oz-like greenery.

So my favorite moments of our trip were not the pounds of steak frites or kisses shared under the Eiffel Tower, it was getting to share all those childhood fragments with Charlie as we covered the city on foot from end to end, having him humor me as we played the game my mother and I always used to play of guessing what color the seats would be at the following metro stop, and humoring me even further when I wanted to take us another mile out of the way to relive what a chocolate eclair tasted like in gluten-free form.

Speaking of being gluten-free in Paris, it’s a lot easier than it used to be. I’ve included some of the recommendations below, but just know that like in the States, not every loaf of GF bread is created equal. Take a detour to Chambelland early in your trip and buy a loaf and carry it in your purse for the rest of your stay. I tried the ones at Eric Kayser, No Glu and Helmet Newcake and they weren’t as good. This is key, because you’re going to need something to soak up all that restaurant butter.

If that’s recommendation 1.a. for the GF folks. 1.b. for the rest of you is to balance your trip with a mix of old and new. You’ll see in the itinerary I laid out below that I didn’t give you a back-to-back bistro highlight reel. There’s some incredibly inventive cuisine happening in Paris right now that is worth taking a break from cassoulet and soupe l’oignon for. Plus, if you eat on the healthier end at home, you will burn out from this particular French brand of hedonism very quickly. Pace yourself, folks.

My last recommendation is to walk as much as you can. It’s truly the best way to see the city. We managed to log 10 miles a day! Pack your shoes accordingly, and bring a second pair, since you will inevitably get blistered from your first. We loved the little AirBNB we stayed in on the 5th floor of a immeuble in the 9th, even if it meant many more blisters walking up all those stairs!

This time around, it was definitely a sobering experience for us bourgeois lovers of Parisian oat milk to experience the Gilet Jaunes lighting the city on fire literally and figuratively with their anger. You can see some of the scenes below, juxtaposed of course with my favorite 3 euro macarons. Needless to say, I couldn’t feel more grateful for the life I was born into that allows me to see the world, and savor every morsel.

Just being able to reminisce about this trip feels like a gift. And let me just say for all my Galentine’s: you don’t need a date to have the most glorious time in Paris. My last two trips 7 years ago and in college were both solo, and I had an equally magical weekend reading, wandering and day drinking in cafes.

Read on for my favorite gluten-free finds and ways to spend a long weekend in the city of luuuuurve.

From one healthy, Francophile hedonist, to another,

Xoxo Phoebe

THE BEST PARIS FOOD DESTINATIONS (& WHAT TO EAT IF YOU’RE GLUTEN-FREE)

Afternoon

*Breizh Cafe, The Marais.

This was our first food stop in Paris, after fighting our jetlag to make it through two floors of the Pompidou Center on an empty stomach. Needless to say, I was extremely hangry by the time we arrived at this little gem in the Marais, and almost had a meltdown when we were told there was no table available. Luckily, the maître d’ took pity on us silly Americans and found us two seats next door at the small to-go shop. We actually got the better experience, I think. As we waited for our gluten-free buckwheat crepes to arrive, we sipped a carafe of their in-house hard cider and drooled over all the delicate tins of sardines, cases of smoked meats, rich butters and countless products made from the restaurant’s signature buckwheat. Just make sure to read the back of the packages, as many of the pastas and crisps also include wheat flour. As for my order, I went with the special, which included cured duck, mushrooms and comte. But you can’t go wrong with the complet.

L’As du Falafel, The Marais.

Back when I could eat gluten, this was a very necessary stop when visiting the old Jewish quarter of the Marais. The streets are worth visiting anyway, as the trendy boutiques suddenly tapper off into a jam-packed block of Judaica. The falafel is the best in the city, but they also have schwarma for the GF folk.

Miznon, The Marais

Down the street from all the falafel shops in the Jewish corner, is this Israeli outpost with creative spins on classic sandwiches. The lamb pita is excellent, but they will also do any of their sandwiches as a plate for the GF folk. I got the beef bourgingnon, which is not something I would think to try at an Israeli restaurant, but their take on it was incredibly light and flavorful, especially with a dousing of green sauce on top. The highlight for healthy-minded folks is the whole charred cauliflower, which emerges still attached to its leaves and roots. New Yorkers: you can also find a stand in Chelsea Market, but it’s not the same as the original.

Chambelland, 10th.

This gluten-free bakery was the only place I found that did French bread the right way. It had the same crispy exterior and tangy sourdough flavor that characterizes the best of the table baskets. Get a loaf to-go, or simply enjoy a tuna sandwich or square of focaccia (tomato-olive is amazing) as a mid-afternoon snack. Also, get a bag of the mini financiers.

Helmut Newcake, 1st.

In addition to being the best-named patisserie in all the land, Helmut Newcake has the type of highfalutin pastries that make you think you’re staring at a jewelry case—and they’re all gluten-free! It was such a treat to get to have a chocolate eclair after all these years. The chocolate chip cookie is also insanely buttery and decadent.

Claus, 1st.

Breakfast isn’t as much of a “thing” in France as it is in the states. Usually, people just grab a croissant and cafe on the go. One morning when we were craving eggs, we ended up at this cute spot near our hotel. Honestly, the breakfast was pretty underwhelming. But it’s worth a visit for the gluten-free green tea financiers, which were the most delicious treat of the trip. Had we done it over, I would have saved my breakfast for when we visited Canal St. Martin (see below).

Holybelly, Canal St. Martin.

We didn’t manage to squeeze in some eggs or black rice porridge from Holybelly, but walked around the cool and quaint surrounding area of Canal St. Martin, where there are a bunch of up-and-coming juice bars (Bob’s) and gluten-free cafes (Ten Belles) popping up. This is definitely the neighborhood to go to if you want a break from butter. And I loved capturing the heart-shaped lock picture above.

Hotel L’Amour, 10th.

This hotel restaurant has a quaint fashionable interior with a beautiful garden to sit outside in warmer months. It’s an excellent spot for brunch, with a whole array of vegetarian options. The vegan butternut squash soup was delicious, as was the poulet roti and plate of scrambled eggs.

Ellsworth, 1st.

This brunch spot has all the usual Southern fixtures—French toast, fried chicken, duck hash—but they’re prepared in a distinctly French way. The hash was a gluten-free favorite of mine, and I also loved the beet salad with homemade light-as-air Greek yogurt.

Au Petit Tonneau, 7th.

We wandered into this little neighborhood gem during our day of exploring the right bank, as we made our way from Musee D’Orsay to go make-out under the Eiffel tower. It was everything we wanted in a bistrot: small tables, chalkboard menus, old ladies ordering whole bottles of wine at 2pm, and husband and wife waiters, who took breaks in between busing our tables to enjoy a bite of lunch with their family at the back table. The most notable dish here is the veal stew, which is served over cardamom scented rice. Unfortunately, it’s thickened with flour (hey-ho France), but I snuck a small taste of the sauce and it was mind-blowing. Equally good (and gluten-free): the escargot, salad Paysenne with thick lardons, and the sautéed scallops.

Le Comptoir de la Mer, 6th

The two small bars next to one another, one dedicated to seafood, the other to meats, are a fun concept based on basque-style pintxos, where you order small plate after small plate, standing up, before heading to the next joint and doing the same. I love that they serve butter in a giant ball on the counter that you can scrape off to your heart’s content.

Pierre Herme, 6th

Perhaps the most famous macaron purveyor in Paris, Pierre lives up to all the hype. The cookies are light and tender, while the filling isn’t too sweet. More importantly, they offer a variety of surprising and creative combinations. My favorite was the half raspberry, half pistachio, and the pomegranate and cream.

NoGlu, 6th

As I mentioned above, I was not overly blown away by the bread at this gluten-free cafe. Still, it’s a nice place to grab a sandwich, and if you’re craving a croque monsieur, theirs certainly hits the spot. I’ve also heard good things about their quiche and madeleine’s, but generally prefer chambelland and helmet newcake for GF goodies.

Evening

Le Grand Bain, 9th

The menu changes daily at this veg-centric small plates joint. The chef is young and inventive, but also can turn out French classics like moules with aioli that rival the best bistros in town. They were willing to adapt almost the whole menu to be gluten-free and also had plenty of vegan options. Besides the moules, my favorite dish was the broccoletti with caviar. Charlie could not resist the fois gras stuffed quail.

Balagan, 1st

We went for lunch at this upscale Israeli restaurant near The Louvre, but it’s chic design and cool lounge in back would make it even better as a nighttime destination. The kale salad with turmeric aioli and Mediterranean take on steak frites (both GF!) were fabulous. The waitstaff was also very knowledgable about my allergy.

Le Villaret, 10th

Right down the street from Chambelland, is this classic bistrot that serves up impeccably cooked steak and other French fare. It’s been renovated to be slightly more modern on the interior, but still feels homey and cozy. It’s a great option for a casual, yet refined meal that’s unfussy and worth the price tag.

Bistrot Paul Bert, 11th.

Though a bigger operation than Tonneau, it doesn’t get more classic than this French institution. It’s a little off the beaten path, but worth a visit for a traditional meal of all the things you came to France for: sole meuniere, steak frites and soufflés. Gluten-free folk are good to go on the steak and fries and simple butter-soaked scallops in their shell, but sadly have to sit out dessert. My favorite part of our meal is that they decanted our wine into a giant wine glass, which made for some wonderful photo opps. I’m pretty sure they stuck us in the front room with all the other English speakers for this very reason.

Le Clown Bar, 10th.

This was both Charlie and my favorite meal in Paris. I was skeptical at first, as I’m not one to opt for trends or novelty over the classics (in Paris, no less). But this meal was truly the most inventive and delicious one I’ve had in any city in recent memory. Much to my surprise, the highlight of the night—in addition to the whole pigeon that arrived talons-on, and still smoking on a plate—was the bowl of brains. As you can see above, they did very little to distract or disguise the main ingredient, which I suppose is what good French cooking is all about. The texture was similar to tofu, and combined with a delicate dashi broth, each spoonful melted in your mouth. It’s best to get a reservation in advance, but there’s a great little hipster cocktail bar around the corner called Bespoke if you have to wait.

Le Relais de Entrecote, 6th

An institution with locations in New York and London, this steak and frites chain never disappoints. And somehow, there’s nothing like the real thing in Paris. It’s also a perfect venue for celiacs, since the famous secret sauce is gluten-free and there’s nothing else on the menu but salad, steak and fries, so the fryer is also fair game. Save room for dessert, as their sundaes are legendary!

Le Servan, 12th.

I loved the neighborhood vibe of this place, which made me feel like we were back in Brooklyn. The food was simple, elegant and if I’m being honest, slightly underwhelming. We ended up here because of this Eater list, which said that the clams were one of the best dishes in Paris. Unfortunately, said clams had soy sauce in them (wah wah). Add it to your list if you want to check out a new neighborhood that’s more residential and bohemian. The one dish that really stood out and was worth returning for was the scallop with butterscotch. The menu changes daily, though, so perhaps we just ordered wrong.

Cocktail Hour

Le Mary Celeste, The Marais

If you’re looking for a great spot to grab oysters or deviled eggs before or after dinner, this divey spot in the Marais is it. Compared to most cocktail bars in Paris, this one is a nice mix of tourists and locals.

Le Syndicat, 9th

Another small cocktail bar with creative drinks, including one with kombucha and cucumber that I enjoyed.

The Hemingway Bar, 1st

If you like 30 euro cocktails in a lavish setting, nothing gets more classic than this hideaway in the back of The Ritz. Go early and put your name down. Be prepared to take out a second mortgage to cover your martini.

Le Meurice, 1st

Slightly easier to get into than Hemingway, and equally expensive drinks in ornate surroundings. Charlie swears by a lunch time burger here as well.

ITINERARY: AN IDEAL LONG WEEKEND IN PARIS

If you have an extra day, the Louvre is an obvious must. It’s so ginormous though that we chose to cross many of the smaller museums off our list and spend more time walking between neighborhoods. Another favorite that we didn’t fit into this itinerary is Sacre Coeur, which has an unparalleled view of the city at sunset and is a fun neighborhood to grab a pre-dinner glass of wine. Definitely go if you have one more night. Also, it should be noted that we went to Paris in December. If it’s warm out, a meat and cheese picnic in the Tuileries or Jardin du Luxembourg is also a must. But the gardens around the Louis Vuitton Foundation are also beautiful for a picnic or romp.

Friday, the Marais + Left Bank >>Start the day at the Pompidou center and explore the contemporary and modern collections >>Spend the afternoon exploring the Marais neighborhood; stop into Merci for home goods and decor, and wander the shops and boutiques. >>Have an early lunch of gluten-free buckwheat crepes at Breizh, along wtih a cup of one of their hard ciders (you’re in Europe, after all!). >> Pop into Musee National Picasso >> Grab a mid-afternoon snack at L’As du Fallafel or Miznon >> GF folks should make a detour to the 10th to grab a midafternoon snack at Chambelland, along with a loaf of gluten-free bread for the rest of the trip >>Head to dinner at Bistrot Paul Bert or Le Villaret for an authentic Parisian experience with all the typical fixings. You’ll be too buttered out by day 3 to handle this.

Saturday, the Right Bank >>Start the day at Musee D’Orsay to take in the vast impressionist collection and early work of Manet and Van Gogh. >>Wander through Napoleon’s old stomping grounds, Les Invalides (with optional detour to either the Musee De L’Armee or the Rodin Museum around the corner) >>Stop for lunch at Au Petit Tonneau for a classic red gingham tablecloth meal of escargot, salad Paysenne and veal stew. >>Continue walking off your meal to the Eiffel Tower for your requisite photo opp. >> Either pop in for more contemporary art at Palais de Tokyo, or metro back to the St. Germain-des-Pres area and enjoy a cafe at a one of the old literary haunts – Les Deux Maggot or Cafe de Flore (touristy, but fun!).

>> Check out Musee de L’Arme for French firearms and battle garb or to say hey to Napoleon in his tomb >> You can also make a pit stop at Bon Marche for some foodie keepsakes >> Take a break from all the butter with some nouveau French cuisine at Le Clown Bar or Le Grand Bain. Get past the ick factor and order the brains—it’s a must. >>Have a nightcap at the Hemingway bar at the Ritz.

Sunday, Further Afield >>Start the day with a Franco-American brunch at Hotel L’Amour or Ellsworth (make a reservation in advance), or if you’re feeling overwhelmed by 48 hours of French food, a healthy bite at Holybelly, where you can also stroll by the water in Canal St. Martin. >>Venture further afield to check out the new Louis Vuitton foundation near jardin d’acclimatation, i.e. the coolest kid’s park that ever was. You can also swap this for a day at the Louvre. >>Enjoy a mid-day cafe and pastry at Helmut Newcakes, which has the best GF eclairs in Paris! >> Head home to wherever you came from, carrying all the shoes and baguettes you can fit in your carry-on.

READER RECS

I got a lot of recommendations from readers on gluten-free and healthy restaurants in Paris. Especially in the Marais and the 9th, there are a ton of Brooklyn-esque smoothie and avocado toast spots cropping up. I didn’t find many of them to be worth it, including Wild & The Moon, which is now a chain. Their GF scone and acai bowl were sub-par, if I’m being honest. The produce in France is better across the board, and I’d personally, much rather enjoy veggies in the context of butter, cooked simply and traditionally, doing what Paris does best, than another culture’s attempt at avocado toast. That said, I’m including the full list below in case you want to try any of them, along with some more restaurants that I’ve been dying to try but haven’t been able to get to!

Gluten-free restaurants and healthy cafes:

Sitron (GF bakery) Echo Deli Cafe Woodies Le Coulauncourt Maisie Cafe The Broken Arm Republique of Coffee Cuppa Cafe BigLove (GF pizza) Cafe Berry Cafe Mareva Cafe Mericourt (shakshouka) Jay and Joy (vegan cheeses!)

Nouveau French restaurants and wine bars: 

Vivant CAM Brutos Frenchie Clamato

***

Have any of you recently been to Paris? Any new or old haunts or must-see’s that I should add to my list for next time? I’m dying to go back! Let me know in the comments section

Source: https://feedmephoebe.com/healthy-hedonists-guide-paris-gluten-free-long-weekend-city-love/

[richardshaver1955]

“The Enchanted Oasis” – our official wedding film!

You guys…Sam and I are SOOOOOOOOO excited to invite you to The Enchanted Oasis. Watch our wedding film above and come relive the magic that happened in the desert on October 6th, 2018! Eeeeee!

I’ve been meaning to do a wedding recap for a LONG LONG time, but things got super crazy after the wedding. (I mean, we still haven’t gone on our honeymoon yet!) We are still getting used to calling each other “husband” and “wife” – but every time we do it, we can’t help but smile and say “Can you believe…!!??” 2 months into our marriage and over 10 years into our relationship you guys! I’m grateful that everything still feels super fresh!

Okay, ready for our wedding photo story? Let’s begin!

The morning began with me getting ready in the Master Suite at the Solomon Estate in Rancho Mirage, CA. I felt like a princess in a modern day castle! I mean, there’s a palm tree growing in the master bath for goodness sake! A PALM TREE. Oh there’s a jacuzzi, a sauna, and 2 toilets in there too. The bathroom alone is like the size of my ENTIRE first apartment x 3. Ha!

Here’s my sister Jackelyn and I taking a moment to Instagram Story our Tieks! I mean, gotta capture every moment! We’re using my Galia Lahav veil as a backdrop.

This is when I sat my mom, sister, and Sam’s mom down to give them personal cards, hand carved hangers, and robes to wear for the getting ready part of the day! Apparently I’m a really good writer because everyone is crying.

Jackelyn got these wooden hangers hand made from a vendor on Etsy! How cool right?

I love this shot. It’s me, mom and sis having a special moment before we put on our dresses.

Perspective. The train is REALLY long on my Galia Lahav dress, but you really don’t understand HOW long until you see it next to the other non-bridal dresses. There’s enough tulle for me to live in for the rest of my life.

These are my wedding shoes from Badgely Mischka! They have platform on them too, so they’re not THAT uncomfortable. There are rhinestones all around the shoe which made them SUPER glamorous (plus I love the rose gold sole which matches my ring), however, I did not know that rhinestones + tulle was going to be the worst idea ever for walking. The stones kept catching onto the inside tulle of my dress and made it nearly impossible to walk down the stairs and then down the aisle! It even ripped part of my dress. But oh well! Whatcha gonna do!?

The ceremony dress. This is the Ms. Elle from Galia Lahav, custom designed to have a deep v cut in the front as well as side cut outs.

It’s always so cool to see something go from concept to completion.

THAT TRAIN THO.

Didn’t think I was extra? Well now you know!

Meanwhile, Sam and Sir George played in their matching tuxedos!

Sam’s dad, his best man, Sam, and my dad getting ready for the big moment! Doesn’t everyone look so dapper?

Yes, Sir George sure thinks so, while posing all casual on top of a medieval leather bound book.

Here was the entry way with the welcome sign I wrote! If you get satisfaction from watching people write calligraphy, check out this video I hastily made just hours before we headed out to the venue!

View this post on Instagram

PART 13: The Calligraphy.

My personal goal for 2018 was to learn how to do calligraphy! But, I did not anticipate doing it for our wedding! Last minute the person who I thought was going to do the calligraphy for us bailed out, so I had to up my game!

I watched countless YouTube videos, attended a live calligraphy tutorial, and practiced with all sorts of pens until I felt comfortable enough to take on all the signage for our wedding! I’m still in my learning phase and am trying to develop my own style. Though at times I get frustrated with my lack of experience, I’m truly enjoying the feeling of not being an expert – of knowing there’s a lot more potential!!! It’s humbling and beautiful.

(PS: The frames you see here I constructed to emulate the invitation. There’s real moss glued piece by piece onto the background – which took wayyyyyy longer and was wayyyyy messier than I thought!)

What hobby are you currently enjoying right now?

Music: “I Got a Girl” by Philip E. Morris. #EnchantedOasis #diybride #weddingcalligraphy #calligraphyvideo

A post shared by Cassey Ho (@blogilates) on Oct 13, 2018 at 10:08am PDT

Did you notice that the frame matches the invitation!? DIY’d it all to make sure we would be ON THEME with “enchanted oasis”!

On the entry way table, we added a nice touch to honor our parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. Golden frames with pictures! I took a chalk paint pen and wrote on top of the glass. If you plan on doing this, get a chalk paint pen that is permanent, or else it will rub off. This one from Amazon is the one I used and I highly recommend it.

My sister, the Maid of Honor. OMG she looked STUNNING in her Galia Lahav. She went for Old Hollywood Glam with her look and she served it!

Here’s my mom putting on my veil! I’m about to walk down the aisle!

Speaking of aisle, we had it lined with gorgeous blooms to give the ceremony a “secret garden” feel.

Most enchanted chuppah ever. All florals by Lovesome Blossoms.

The aisle.

This was honestly the highlight of the entire wedding I must say. The moment Sir George drove down the aisle.

Here’s Nola, our flower girl! And Sam’s niece.

When my dad walked me down the aisle!

The ceremony. We began with the lighting of the unity candle. Our love story was written by my sister. We also had a guided meditation that I wrote, which was requested by Sam. We also had family members chime in and give advice on marriage! It was a very unique ceremony that blended both the Vietnamese/Chinese and Jewish cultures!

“You may kiss the bride!”

Walking hand in hand for the first time as husband and wife!!! AHH!!!

Next, the guests were surprised with a carousel that we had built on site just for them! Each horse was brought in one by one BY HAND. Why? Cuz…#ENCHANTEDOASIS. DUH!

Makes for a great Instagram photo :)

FRIENDS LOOKING SO FINE.

The signature drinks.

We also had a matcha bar because Sam and I are matcha FANATICS! Custom blended drinks by Midora Matcha with golden straws to matcha our theme!

The seating chart that took me a FEW tries to get right. It was SO HARD to fit all the names on there.

My 2nd dress! A whimsical gown with custom drop sleeves from Galia Lahav. It’s the Lydia.

The reception tent – made up of thousands of twinkle lights!

Me and Sam doing the Horah! SO SCARY! Also our live band Christien Anthony KILLED IT. They learned how to sing Hebrew in 2 days. WHAT!??? And their music was ON POINT! They brought all the energy onto the dance floor!

Chair decor.

Table settings.

Each guest got their own hand pressed heart napkin. The heart napkin was a big deal during wedding planning. I wasn’t going to budge on this :P

The cake swing.

Mmmm. Berries.

CUTTING THE CAKE! You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting to eat my blue velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.

SO. GOOD. Also, look at the girls’ faces! Adorable!!!

More desserts! By Midori Matcha.

I hope you enjoyed the photos from our wedding! There’s like 3,000 more but these are my faves.

Thanks to everyone who helped make it happen!

Wedding Dresses and Maid of Honor Dress: Galia Lahav

Wedding Planner: Laurie Lund of The Events Department

Location: The Solomon Estate in Rancho Mirage, CA

Photography: Kassia Phoy

Videography: 

Directed by: Brad Etter

Video Produced By: Ashla Soter

Director of Photography: Marco Bottiglieri

Additional Camera: Faisal Shah

Edited by: Brad Etter, Cassey Ho

Florals: Lovesome Blossom

Hair & Makeup: Beauty Marked

Catering: Fusion Flair

Matcha Bar and mini desserts: Midori Matcha

Cake: Exquisite Desserts

Tent, Lighting, Chairs etc: BRIGHT Rentals

Carousel: Christiansen Amusements

The post “The Enchanted Oasis” – our official wedding film! appeared first on Blogilates.

from Blogilates https://ift.tt/2RR4IA2

[fashiontrendin-blog]

I sat in a 67 degree sauna for 45 minutes to make my skin glow and boost my wellness, here’s what happened...

https://fashion-trendin.com/i-sat-in-a-67-degree-sauna-for-45-minutes-to-make-my-skin-glow-and-boost-my-wellness-heres-what-happened/

I sat in a 67 degree sauna for 45 minutes to make my skin glow and boost my wellness, here’s what happened...

Like most millennials who work hard, play harder and then try and undo the damage, I’ll do anything in the quest for wellness. Desk full of crystals? Check. £60 splurged on a Himalayan salt lamp? You bet! Daily juices packed with ayuverdic powders I can’t even pronounce? Obviously.

So, when Glow Bar, a new wellness haunt, opened its doors in central London, I *had* to try it.

Glow Bar, which is the most Instagrammable venue I’ve ever set foot in, is a wellness company for women created by Sasha Sabapathy.

Sasha created Glow Bar to help other women manage their stress levels using techniques she’d learnt to battle her own anxiety, including infrared saunas, ‘moon milk’ drinks packed with adaptogen herbs and, of course, crystals.

I know what you’re thinking: heard it all before. However, Glow Bar is unique courtesy of the main attraction: its private infrared sauna pods.

Like most great wellness trends, this one hails from LA and New York. It involves you sitting (and seriously) sweating in an infrared sauna for 45-minutes.

I tried the workout that Selena Gomez and Kim Kardashian are obsessed with – and all it requires is lying down

“Sweating as a means of healing has been used for centuries in cultures from South America to India. Utilising the most modern of technologies, our infrared saunas allow you to have a similar experience with maximised benefits,” says Sasha.

The benefits

Glowing skin: Infrared therapy stimulates collagen production while healing your skin from the surface to deeper levels. The action of profusely sweating at a lower temperature means that your skin literally glows from the moment you leave, according to Sasha.

Mood-booster: The infrared saunas have been proven to release endorphins in your brain, helping to lower cortisol levels. This leaves you feeling a “runners high” when you’re done giving you the same benefit as a workout without the hard work. Sign us up.

Better sleep: 45-minute long infrared sauna sessions help your mind and muscles to relax in a substantial way, helping you to have a better nights sleep and reset bad sleeping patterns.

Better wellbeing: Increased circulation, detoxification and immune system boosting are all wonderful effects from infrared therapy. Research has shown that profuse sweating can reduce mercury levels in the body in addition to fighting infections, making our saunas the perfect lifestyle choice for those with a seafood heavy diet or if you’re fighting a cold.

The review

The best part about the pods is that you can take a friend in with you and trust me, you’ll need the moral support.

We were led into possibly the chicest changing room I’ve witnessed and given branded dressing gowns before heading into the pod itself. There’s a waiting area kitted out with an aromatherapy diffuser and bottles of Fiji water, as well as charcoal-infused water, which you’ll get through *pretty* quickly. They advise you to sit in the sauna naked but my friend and I opted for bikinis. You can plug your phone in to play your own music or a podcast, take a book in or just sit in silence.

Optimistically, we started chatting away but after the first 20 minutes went by, we were so hot we couldn’t stifle a word of conversation.

I’ll be honest, I left the room approximately 5 times to catch my breath but the 45 minutes did pass pretty quickly.

After our ‘sweat sesh’, we were treated to super refreshing ‘moon milks’ – a concoction of delicious macqui Berry, ashwagandha and lavender – and perused the carefully curated self-care products available in the shop.

The pods cost £40 a session (but you can get the first two for £55 or add a friend into yours for £15) and considering my friend and I would usually splurge over £50 each on a prosecco-fuelled meal that we probably wouldn’t remember, we agreed it was a worthwhile investment.

After a two-week holiday full of too much sangria and tapas, my evening at Glow Bar left me feeling revitalised and upbeat. It was honestly the perfect mood boost. I had trouble sleeping (possibly due to the endorphins) but my colleagues all noted my skin was glowing the next day.

Want to get your glow on? Glow Bar is open now on Mortimer Street, London.

Meet Sasha Sabapathy: The beauty boss behind Glow Bar

These days you’ll find 28-year-old Sasha Sabapathy drinking matcha tea in her cosy North London home; a ginger cat and fluffy Shih Tzu within patting distance. The soundtrack of Hamiliton is blasting in the background as she goes over the plans for her modern wellness brand, Glow Bar.

It’s a long way from the stressed and anxious 20-year-old – unhappy and far from home in New York – that she used to be.

But then she always had that entrepreneurial spirit, it just took some really sh*t times to spark the idea of something good.

Here, she shares her story of how she improved her mental health, the life moments that led to the beginning of her business and what gives her the mental stamina to keep going.

My first ever job was selling rocks for charity – yes, really!

Sasha’s success started young, with a booming paperweight business that she sold like contraband in the schoolyard.

“I would literally go hunting for pebble shaped rocks in my garden, give them a good clean, paint them, and rebrand them as paperweights.”, says Sasha. “Even as a child I was really aware of unfairness in the world and used the sales to raise money for charity.”

When she couldn’t peddle her school friends for money, she would sell her leftover “stock” to her Dad.

My early 20s were a struggle…

Stuck in a draining job and trying to keep up with the fast-paced big city life, Sasha’s wellness reached a low point while living abroad.

“Stress and anxiety was something that I really struggled with when I was living in New York”, says Sasha. “I constantly felt like the worst version of myself and was really unhappy. My skin was terrible and my energy levels were low.”

Sasha says she has her friend Izzy to thank for what happened next…

“When she discovered I was suffering from anxiety, she told me about Ashwagandha – a herb to relax and calm the mind, encourage better sleep and uplift your mood – she was the one who told me to give it a try.”

Ashwagandha root has typically been used in Ayurveda for centuries. The mind-body system, which began in India, is often sought out as a complementary or alternative medicine for those looking to improve their mental health.

Herbs and mushrooms became a way to manage

Growing up in Malaysia, Sasha was familiar with the use of natural plants as a way to heal and embraced Izzy’s suggestion.

“After taking Ashwagandha for a few weeks, I realised that I was coping with stress in a different way, and as a result began taking other adaptogenic herbs and mushrooms.”

From her personal experience, Sasha discovered that some herbs worked better for stress levels (like Ashwagandha), while others were better for energy (like Maca).

“I soon began to see serious changes and improvements within myself and in my skin.”

Following her move back to London, Sasha found that a lot of her friends were experiencing the same stress, anxiety and energy slump she’d experienced in New York, which is when the idea for Glow Bar began to form.

I wanted to launch one product, but I ended up launching three

Having taken multiple herbs and capsules every day for years, Sasha originally wanted to launch just one powerful adaptogen herb blend to beat them all.

“However, after doing some research and discovering that stress affected women in three different ways (inflamed skin, bad mood and lowered sex drive/energy), I decided to launch three really focused blends.”

Using her own knowledge and personal practice as a starting point, Sasha starting mixing herbs at home to determine which ones were best for targeting the aforementioned side-effects of stress.

“My own knowledge really helped me, but I still had to do a lot of research regarding my products. I read almost every scientific and eastern healing book on adaptogen herbs and devoured scientific studies. There were some herbs that research led me to, like, Astragalus – an immune boosting herb – which is in Super Happy.”

Any new herb discovered, Sasha would test individually herself, for an extended period of time, to determine their effectiveness and which blend they belonged in.

I set up shop in my living room

There’s no rule book when it comes to starting your own business. Sasha was studying to be a chef Le Cordon Bleu for 9-12 hours a day, and then coming home to read about herbs and work on her branding at night.

“I soon realised that if I was willing to sacrifice much-needed sleep and mental rest for this brand then it was something I should probably be doing full-time.”

“The day I graduated I officially set up shop in my living room and the rest is pretty much history.”

Glow Bar is still one of the only brands to sell Organic Ashwagandha in a powdered format.

The products I sell helped me for years, and now I get to help other women

Running your own company has to be one of the most stress-inducing jobs to undertake – an irony that isn’t lost on Sasha.

“It is so easy to spend every waking (and sleeping) moment thinking about work and what you could be doing better.”

“I’ve learned to spend some time every day thinking about absolutely nothing – whether it’s on a long walk with my dog or having a long soak in the tub. This time always gives me the mental stamina to keep pushing myself.”

Of course, doing something you truly love and believe keeps the light alive…

“These products have already helped me for so many years and knowing that they will help other women feel happier and more confident in themselves brings me so much joy – and makes the long nights worth it!”

If you or anyone you know is suffering from stress or anxiety, visit mind.org.uk.

[goodmorningguru-blog]

Wanna Matcha?

GMG: Though I think most of our readers have heard of matcha, can you describe what it is and its benefits?

AT: Matcha is the powder form of shade-grown green tea. To my understanding the green tea plants for matcha are shade-grown for about three weeks before harvest. The shade growth provides more theanine and caffeine. The combination is what gives you the ‘focused-calm energy’ as opposed to the coffee jitters and a giant afternoon crash.

Tell us the story of Wanna Matcha? How long have you been in business?

Well, here we go. Austin and I went on a LONG trip to Europe. Two months to be exact. There I discovered Matcha. I was so drawn to it! Once we got home I actually forgot about it for about a month. Then I saw the flyer I put on our fridge for a matcha place in England. Once I started drinking it daily, I was hooked. Wishing I could get it in town, I of course realized there wasn’t a matcha shop. So, then naturally, I thought to just start one. I looked into how matcha shops are doing and was amazed at the ‘craze’ it has become. SO WE JUMPED ON IT. Two weeks after applying for BFM as well as getting all the legal things in order, we were up and running on April Fools Day 2017. Here we are ‘snowballing’ like crazy.

Ashley & Austin of Wanna Matcha? (Photo: Morgan Mcgoff @morgan.julann)

You’ve only been in business since April, what has been the most surprising part of the process so far?

Really just the entire thing in general. I never really thought I would ever own a business. Yet, here we are. Not only that, but the support from the community. We have amazing volunteers (too many really) that want to help. That to me is just amazing and wonderful.

What is the best part about being part of the Boise Farmer’s Market?

Like I mentioned earlier, the community out there really is amazing. All of the businesses there are all so helpful and kind. I think any event or market needs to have that camaraderie, rather than competition. It really makes it or breaks it for us.

What has been your craziest Wanna Matcha? moment?

Oh my goodness, for sure the day at the market when it was CRAZY WINDY. I was about to shut down and just leave. However, again, everyone at the market banned together and made it through. I mean, really, we took everything off the tables. We took our tent town, got sun burns. It was horrible. Not to mention we were still so busy and killing it. It was a whirlwind, literally.

First thing in the morning, do you have matcha or coffee?

MATCHA ALL THE WAY. Now matcha and coffee can’t even compete—they are two different things. However, I find that I feel better throughout the day when I only drink matcha.

Bubba Gump style…. how many uses for matcha can you name?

Ha ha, this is so great. Just like Bubba Gump, Matcha Muffins, Matcha Ice cream, Matcha Smoothies, Matcha Cookies, Matcha Lattes, Matcha Mocktails (shameless plug), Matcha FACEMASKS, matcha chapstick (yes, I have seen it), Acme made matcha bread that was to die for. Literally….so many options.

Unicorn Matcha, Matcha Mule, Some Like it Hot. Those are just a few of your recipes that I order (almost) weekly. How do you come up with the recipes? Who tastes tests?

I do a lot of research. I look at places in New York and LA. I love to see what other people are doing, then we spice whatever up in our own way. More importantly, we look at what is in season. We really want our menu to reflect the seasons. What ever we make I then sometimes have a friend come over and try it. Austin does a lot of the testing as well. Honestly, it is a pretty quick process right now. I would love to have a team in the future for drink making and experimenting. I am sure other people have a more creative brain then I do! I need more brains!

A busy day at the Boise Farmer’s Market (Photo: Laramie Holtman @laramiejr) 

Describe your perfect morning.

I love to slowly get ready! I actually enjoy getting up earlier now (thanks to my husband). I love getting up and cleaning up the house a bit, then make breakfast with Austin. Actually sitting down and eating together is my favorite thing. Not to mention, my dog has less anxiety when we sit and eat. Its weird. Then maybe praying together too. We love that.

Favorite self-care activity?

A bath. A girl can never have too many baths. It has become more difficult for me to actually sit and do nothing. No phone, no tv. Just me. It’s good practice.

Ashley’s favorite addition to the bath.

What do you do when you need to feel more self-connected?

I am a big believer in God and I can’t do anything else but pray when I feel a little out of whack, which is quite often.

Since Wanna Matcha? is a staple at the Farmer’s Market, do you have any farmer’s market tips for our readers?

Man, I am so happy that you think we are a staple at the market! Since we have been there only three months now, I feel like we can use all the tips we can. Everyone around us in the market are so helpful and sweet all the time. However, as a customer, I would say please go to the market and try things that you wouldn’t normally try. I can’t tell you how many times we run into people that talk to us and yet don’t even try the sample. You never know, you may like what you try. If you leave hating it, it will not hurt our feelings. One last thing, if you try a sample of something, you don’t have to buy. We really don’t care. So, go out and try some new things.

Tips for brewing matcha at home.

PLEASE sift your matcha. Instead of just throwing your matcha in your cup or whatever, put it through a tea sifter first. You really want to get all those chunks out, and this helps. Then, use a matcha whisk, hand frother, or even a blender to mix  your matcha. The more froth the better.

Can you share a matcha recipe with us?

Right now, my favorite is literally just half matcha and water, and half lemonade. So easy and so refreshing.

If you’re in Boise, Wanna Matcha? will be announcing a new location that they will be at daily—stay tune for that! If you aren’t in Boise, take a note from Ashley and brew yourself a matcha today, just make sure you sift it.

Love,

Holly

  (Feature image: Jenny Bowler @jennyand.co) 

Wanna Matcha? was originally published on Good Morning Guru

[easyfoodnetwork]

When an escape to a rural Vermont cabin means scenic beauty, isolation, and hopefully outrunning the stubborn ghost of a five-pound roast chicken that’s been haunting you for weeks Clio Chang is a freelance writer based in Brooklyn. When not traveling alone, she covers politics, culture, and more. One night, early in quarantine, I roasted a whole chicken. I had just isolated myself in a friend’s empty one-bedroom apartment, away from my roommates, and was celebrating living alone, however temporarily, for the first time in my life. I bought a five-pound honker, lugged it home in my straining bike bag, and prepared it the same way I usually did: I went heavy on the salt and pepper; skipped the trussing because literally what am I, a chef; threw the chicken over some vegetables; and shoved the whole thing in the oven for a couple of hours. It wasn’t until I sat down to carve and eat it that I realized what I had done. I had made five whole pounds of chicken, plus a Thanksgiving meal’s worth of roasted vegetables, for just one person. People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one. As I quickly found out, it’s far easier to make too much rather than just enough. And guests will usually lie and tell you something tastes good, on top of bringing over beer and wine to wash down whatever you make. People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one. I ate that chicken for weeks. I ate it in sandwiches, I ate it on ramen, I ate it straight out of the refrigerator when I excused myself from a Zoom hang to “grab a beer.” I made broth from the bones, even though I don’t really like broth, because honestly, what better things did I have to do? Eating chicken and chicken byproducts became my job, which I did better than my actual job, from which I was later laid off. And yet I still had chicken left over, a Strega Nona-style cursed reminder that not only was I alone, I was alone alone. Months later, as I set off for my first trip outside of New York City in four months, I was still thinking about my isolation chicken. I hadn’t left Brooklyn since March, aside from two stints into Manhattan for protests and noodles, and I had imagined it would feel like a satisfying, full-body stretch. It would be my first time driving a car in months, my first time moving more than 30 miles per hour, my first time seeing the green rolling hills that lined the highways on the way to my destination, a small A-frame cabin in the mountains of Vermont that I’d found at the last minute on Airbnb. But all I could really think about was the chicken. Out of Brooklyn, into the idyllic wilds of Vermont My goal was to take a vacation — to escape, even for a brief moment — as safely as possible during the pandemic. I would be doing the trip solo, which might feel less like a break and more like a test. I would be taking time for myself after months of having more time to myself than I’d had in my entire life. Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties? But I was determined to enjoy my four days off. After all, my world was going to suddenly expand in an explosive way: I would get to see regional billboards, smell the forest air, hear the sounds of nothing at night. I resolved to not ruin it by creating another monster; a constant, edible reminder of the fact that I could not share a space or a table or a trip with my family and friends. Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties? The day I left, Brooklyn was in the middle of a heat wave with little reprieve, and the air was swollen and heavy. Because I was going from a high-density area to a low-density area, I resolved to buy all of my groceries before I got out of the city, stopping at H-Mart on the way. I’d had “make a grocery list” on my to-do list for days, but the ghost of my chickens past did not help me overcome my extreme laziness, and I did not, in fact, “make a grocery list.” With no plan, I ended up buying a random assortment of foods, including four pieces of cooked mackerel, one steak, one conch, 12 clams, a packet of matcha sponge cake, king oyster mushrooms, and the kind of eggplant that is both long and sexy. As I walked out of the grocery store, I passed a Trader Joe’s that had an endless line of people waiting six feet apart to enter. I felt smugly superior until I got to the car and realized that my impulse mackerel purchase was stinking up the whole backseat. A friend, of course, would have gently advised against the idea. A campfire for one Lunch at the lake, accompanied by the promise of a lazy summer afternoon The only thing I hate more than being alone is coordinating with others, so I’ve ended up on many solo trips. Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people. Any solo vacation movie will tell you this: In Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, Lily James (as a young Meryl Streep) goes off to Greece alone, only to meet and befriend the three men who become co-fathers of her child, one to two Greek people, and a horse. The movie ends with James singing a number with all of her new friends and family, including Meryl Streep (as an old Lily James). And then there’s Under the Tuscan Sun, which revolves around a recently divorced Diane Lane, sent by friends to go alone on a gay tour of romantic Tuscany. Lane, who is straight, gamely dons a hat that reads “Gay & Away,” and by the end of the movie she ends up with a new house filled to the brim with the patchwork family she has collected on her trip. One of the Polish workers Lane hires to renovate her house sums up her situation most succinctly when he asks her to join them for dinner: “It’s unhealthy to eat alone.” This trail, while lovely, did not lead to the ghost of Meryl Streep. Movies tend to exaggerate, but on my own solo vacations, I almost always manage to con someone into being my friend, even if just for a day. But this type of antisocial trip, where I wouldn’t interact with anyone, was new for me. (This particular region of Vermont was also new to me, although one friend helpfully told me that my cabin was two towns away from where she played high school soccer.) I got tested for COVID-19 a week before the trip, but because the results hadn’t arrived when I left, I decided to be extra cautious and avoid seeing anyone when I arrived at my destination. I passed farm stands, imagining all the chats I could have with Polish workers, and spurned pit stops for coffee, thus eliminating the possibility of meeting the ghost of Meryl Streep. Because I was literally not here to make friends, I ended up inventing them. When I was about an hour from my destination, my car kept flashing an image of a coffee mug and asking me, Do you want to take a break? I thought this was both rude and forward. But I found myself saying back, “No, haha, I’m fine,” somewhat fondly. Ten minutes later, as I craned my neck to look at a billboard advertising fine homemade furniture, my car started screaming “BRAKE! BRAKE!!” I also started screaming and we screamed and slammed on the brake together to avoid hitting the car in front of us, which had slowed down to turn. “Car is friend,” I thought to myself. Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people. When I got to the cabin and stepped outside the car, I was immediately met with a wall of crisp Vermont air. Over the next three days, I would spend most of my time hiking alone, reading under a small covered porch when it rained, or curled up in bed watching TikToks until late in the morning. Away from New York, my new surroundings were a balm, and I found myself wishing I could share them. I showed off the lush trees to friends over FaceTime, and breathed in enough air for a small city. But I resisted the urge to connect: When I trekked to a small, remote pond, I walked a wide circle around the group of teenage boys wrestling to see who could more casually throw themselves off the cliff into the water below. I stuffed away my instinct to talk to anyone, and for a small, brief moment, while I sat in the sun by the water, I felt my brain unspool with the promise of a lazy summer afternoon. The majority of my time, though, was spent cooking. In the small cabin kitchen I made Taiwanese night market-style king oyster mushrooms, brushing them in a chile soy sauce as they grilled and tossing them with Thai basil and garlic. I made H-Mart marinated short ribs with sauteed Chinese mustard greens on the side. I cooked down the sexy eggplant with a simple teriyaki sauce made from garlic, sugar, and soy sauce, making extra to drizzle over $6 worth of flank steak for one. I also wanted to make pasta al vongole, but realized I had only bought racchette pasta — the type shaped like a tiny tennis racquet for a Hamptons mouse — because I thought it had “vacation” vibes at the time. So I ended up with a dish of clams over tennis racquets. When your dream of pasta al vongole materializes as a dish of clams over tennis racquets As the cabin’s only cook and diner and Yelp reviewer, I was acutely over-aware of the quality of every item of food that I made, relishing dishes when I pulled them off and despairing when I made mistakes. The memory of my isolation chicken lingered on the edges of the kitchen — as I cooked, I was careful to curb my impulse to make all the food at once, and instead cut down my portions to a manageable amount for one person. Everything took more time to make and plan than I expected, especially since I was unable to find any Tupperware in the cabin, which meant I was preparing three new meals every day. Unlike at home, I’d have to throw away whatever food I didn’t use. And so I became my own wretched Tupperware, overindulging on each dish. Yet even though I did everything well, more or less, I still found myself tired of prepping food, cooking it, and cleaning the dishes. Completely removed from my community at home, all of this labor on behalf of myself only became more obvious. I thought about how I used to sit on the floor of my friends’ living rooms, gossiping with their discombobulated voices as they made me dinner in their kitchens. I missed the dishes that my mother would sneak hot peppers into because I “had to learn” how to tolerate spice. I thought about my favorite nights at restaurants, like the time when the table next to us got up and left and our waiter hurried over to inform us that yes, that was, in fact, the Carlos Santana. I was also upset with myself for thinking these thoughts during a global recession when so many were struggling to feed themselves at all, and for feeling worn out by cooking for myself every day when so many were making food for entire families. I knew these feelings of guilt were useless on their own. But what I was grasping for wasn’t really a reprieve from cooking. Rather, I missed the person I was around others. Ruth Reichl recently wrote about a night at a Paris restaurant when the maitre d’ whisked away her 8-year-old son to take part in games being organized for the neighborhood children. When her son returned, he told Reichl that he thought it was “a very fine restaurant,” to which she replied that he’d only tried the french fries and cake. “C’mon mom,” her son replied. “You know restaurants aren’t really about the food.” Those words stuck in my head for weeks. It turns out that it’s only really just about the food when you’re cooking for one. The cabin’s kitchen, small but functional aside from its lack of Tupperware In my isolation, I also began thinking about the idea of leisure time — specifically, the pervasive American ethos that holds that time off is an extravagance that must be earned. It’s so deeply ingrained that I even felt a pause taking my vacation, as if time off is a scarce natural resource, as if time alone is selfish. But though isolating myself further seemed somewhat redundant, taking a break had made me feel more settled and clear-headed, a feeling that should be more available, not less. If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home. There’s something to learn from the countries where our solo vacation movie protagonists escape to — in both Greece and Italy, workers are entitled to 20 days minimum paid vacation every year, while in the United States, workers are guaranteed no paid vacation at all. If there is one thing in Under the Tuscan Sun that makes complete sense, it’s that Diane Lane never returns home. On the day I left Vermont, I was so sick of planning and preparing food that I ended up eating a breakfast of matcha sponge cake and packed a lunch for the road, also of matcha sponge cake. If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home. As I started the four-hour drive to the city, I felt strangely anxious to get back. I thought about how my generation was once credited with killing both the restaurant industry and vacations, and I laughed imagining someone trying to make that argument now, as our government allowed the pandemic to destroy small businesses and communities with abandon. Even though it would be a long while until I could cook a roast chicken for my family, or meet a friend for drinks at a bar, I knew that being closer to my own community and the businesses I love still felt better than being farther away. During those four days in Vermont, I found that there was a difference between being alone within a community and isolated from it. In the course of all my complaining, I had forgotten about the times when my friends and I would bring beers or snacks or order a pizza to hang on a stoop or at a park, or the day when my mom taught us how to make scallion pancakes over video chat. I forgot that while I was eating my big chicken, I was often chatting with friends and family over the phone, making that chicken as much a comfort as it was a curse. Even though we constantly had to negotiate with ourselves and each other — eating six feet away, bringing our own glasses, taking dinners to Zoom — we found ways to connect. There are other ways to share a table; by figuring out how, we will be able to start picking up the pieces again. from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3kYVXTn

http://easyfoodnetwork.blogspot.com/2020/08/cooking-solo-in-woods.html

[leadershipinalison-blog]

Week 3: Short & Sweet!

This blog post won’t be too long because my work week was shortened by the Fourth of July, but nonetheless there is much to reflect on! My time at EWP this week has been continued work on the Encore Card and social media research. Kelly (my fellow Community Outreach Intern) and I have been going around Little Tokyo and the Arts District to follow-up with businesses we had met with the week before about the Encore Card. We found that most had forgotten about us, and since we weren’t able to catch managers during our initial meetings, much communication got lost between us and the businesses. Kelly and I have been discussing about how to make the process of renewing Encore Card partnerships more effective, such as calling/emailing managers and businesses before we head out to meet them in person. This way, we begin our relationship with direct communication with the decision makers, and in this way, we all use our time more efficiently. We value the face time we get with businesses, but it becomes wasted time when we repeatedly encounter employees who cannot speak for their managers and don’t know where the information packets we had handed out a week ago went. Nonetheless, as the week progressed and we became familiar faces at certain businesses, we met more success and were able to secure a good number of partnerships. 

We had particularly heart-warming experiences at Poke Express and Midori Matcha Cafe. The manager at Poke Express really appreciated that we waited and sat down with her to discuss the Encore Card program, and she gave us free sodas at the end of our meeting! She spoke about how their businesses was only 10 months old, and the Encore Card was a great opportunity for them. At Midori Matcha Cafe, the owner treated us in a way where I felt respected for my work, even though I am just a summer intern. He also offered us a matcha drink on the house, and we felt very happy with our new partnership and refreshing drink :) The one downside to walking around Little Tokyo this week has been the intense heatwave, so the icy drink was much welcomed. My interactions with the different businesses has reminded me the importance of time and tone when meeting new people, in professional and non-professional settings, and showing them that you care for their time and are interested in what they have to say. It is affirming to be cared for in a genuine way, where someone trusts your work and shows this by investing time in your interaction. 

On Friday, our LIA workshop was on the Art of Confrontation. I really enjoyed this workshop, and it gave me a lot to think about in terms of how we communicate about disagreements or problems. I am always thinking about communication and how to work through moments where I don’t see eye-to-eye with another person. I am usually thinking about ‘confrontation’ and communication in terms of social justice and inequality, as well as my relationships with people I care about. How do we learn from each other and overcome obstacles in a constructive way? Often I can come off as aggressive, condescending, argumentative, and while sometimes I think my defiant communication is warranted, I really aim to communicate in a way where I don’t assume that what I am saying is ‘right’ or of greater value than the other person, and think about their context and why they are reacting to me/our situation with opposition. Thank you, Calvin, for holding your workshop with us and listening to our antics and struggles, and working through different ways to approach ‘confrontation’ in a healthy and sustainable manner.

After the workshop, we had community project time. Previously in the week, our cohort had met via Google Hangout to finalize our Letter of Inquiry for LEAP, and I had asked if we could begin our Friday with more detailed community guidelines for our time together. I said this because while we already had community guidelines set up, now that we had spent 3 weeks together, I thought that we would benefit from specifically addressing how we work best, how to approach us when there are problems, and other additional points to ensure that we stay a close cohort that can get through struggles constructively. I spoke about the importance for me to get to know the others in a non-work setting, and we all agreed on some general times to hang out and chill. We also decided on more professional things like setting weekly agendas to structure our times. We also discussed using other work spaces besides the LEAP office (it can get a bit stuffy), the importance of breaks, work affirmations, and check ins. After setting up those guidelines, we made a general agenda structure to follow for the weeks ahead. We used it to then make our own agenda for the rest of our time. It was quite a productive time! We made a timeline for the weeks ahead, created committees with different responsibilities for the workshop, and also had a discussion on what we were envisioning for our workshop. We decided to change our target audience from college students to high school students, and we kept with our storytelling theme. I honestly feel things coming together, and I hope we can remain focused to successfully carry out our project. I think we are all motivated to try and only work on our project together on Friday afternoons, and in this way, spend other time doing fun things together in LA. I am going to sign off on my Week 3 reflection for now, and I look forward to seeing how Week 4 goes! I honestly cannot believe that LIA is nearly halfway over (!!), but I am embracing the weeks ahead, and I am excited for growth :)

[fashiontrendin-blog]

I Completely Overhauled My Diet to Tackle PMS

http://fashion-trendin.com/i-completely-overhauled-my-diet-to-tackle-pms/

I Completely Overhauled My Diet to Tackle PMS

When I got my first period at 12, I was home alone. Much like the protagonist of Judy Blume’s Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret., I had pleaded with the universe to become a woman, a transformation my two older sisters had already undergone. While I was grateful to have some privacy in that moment, what I didn’t realize was that, in some respect, I would feel alone in dealing with my menstrual cycle for most of my life.

I had never compared and contrasted my symptoms with peers (bleeding so heavy I once told my mom I’d “lost an ovary in the toilet,” lightheadedness to the point of fainting in public, acne, crippling cramps), so I thought everything I experienced was normal. I also thought my symptoms could only be fixed with birth control. That model of thinking went uninterrupted until this year, when I came across an enthusiastic wellness blogger who touted the benefits of something she called “cycle syncing,” which she’d learned from a book called WomanCode.

Written by “nutritionist and women’s hormone expert” Alisa Vitti while in search of a holistic approach to treating her Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS), WomanCode teaches women how to stave off hormonal, PMS, and period symptoms by eating a certain way, knowing what types of exercise to do (and when), and even managing work and social engagements.

At first I scoffed at this blogger’s over-sharing of the details of her menstrual cycle (“Off to yoga — I’m in my luteal phase!” she’d say, swigging a superfood-spiked matcha). In a hateful, premenstrual bout, I seethed at her cheery demeanor and clear skin. What could she possibly know about the torture that I endured on a monthly basis? Then it hit me: What did I know? So I dug in further.

WomanCode focuses on healing the endocrine system, which controls your hormones. In addition to the more widely known period systems like cramps, mood swings, and bloating, hormones can cause of a whole host of issues: dandruff, anxiety, cravings, hair loss, and hair growth, loss of sex drive.

Vitti has also created an app, MyFlo, which you can use to predict your period, track your symptoms and get feedback on what to eat, what exercises to do, and even how your significant other can better tend to your needs. Despite the fact I had long ago accepted the fact that getting my period means being tortured on a monthly basis, I figured I had nothing to lose (besides the $1.99) so I uploaded MyFlo and embarked upon a month-long experiment, focused specifically on the dietary suggestions.

Before I share my food diary, let me tell you the basics. The dietary guidance is split up among four phases: follicular, ovulation, luteal, menstruation; I began during my luteal. They don’t perfectly map by week — some are longer than others and they’ll vary by person — but I estimated mine based on the provided info. Also, this isn’t an actual “diet.” The app is structured in a way that, in addition to sharing general nutrition info that corresponds to each phase, you can punch in your various symptoms (sadly, I didn’t see road rage as an option) to customize food suggestions even further. It’s different for everyone. As a nutritionist, Vitta’s food selections are based on their ability to optimize bodily functions. It’s nothing weird — arguably things we should all be eating anyway. That said, from the get-go I nixed (or tried to, at least) a few things that the author explains can cause hormones to go haywire: caffeine (noooooo!), refined sugar, soy, red meat, and dairy. Here’s how it went.

Luteal Phase (Duration: 7-14 days)

The luteal phase “occurs after ovulation (when your ovaries release an egg) and before your period starts.” In other words, it’s the latter two weeks of a four-week cycle.

Recommended Food: B vitamin-rich foods including eggs, seafood, and leafy greens; baked root vegetables; probiotic foods like kimchi and sauerkraut; cilantro; vitamin E-packed foods like almonds and avocados.

The Science: According to my app, this is when “estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone reach their peak concentrations, and then begin to fall to their lowest levels right before bleeding.” Vitamin B foods help manage blood sugar, while the root veggies can cleanse the liver, flushing out excess estrogen. Probiotics reduce bloat, chlorophyll-packed cilantro can clear the skin, and Vitamin E is an anti-inflammatory that can aid breast pain. (All the research is cited in the app.)

How I felt: Leaving Whole Foods with heavy bags full of hormone-friendly ingredients for the week, I felt hopeful—especially after examining my ever-present chin/jawline acne. Eating dishes like baked sweet potatoes topped with black beans and guacamole or scrambled eggs with fermented veggies wasn’t terribly out of my comfort zone (I tend to cook healthfully at home) but a life without caffeine was. I opted to keep up my two-cups-day coffee routine seeing as giving up pastries was hard enough. LET ME LIVE!

Menstruation (Duration: 3-7 days)

Menstruation is, duh, when you’re actually bleeding. After your unfertilized egg unceremoniously exits the Fallopian tube, it breaks apart and your uterine lining begins to shed. A fun time!

Recommended Food: Low-glycemic fruits and veggies; protein; seaweed; Omega 3 fatty acids; beets.

The Science: According to Vitti, if you regularly struggle with cramping, diet could be a part of the problem. The app explains, “your body isn’t making enough of the right type of prostaglandins […] and too much of another type” as a result of a lack of essential fatty acids, which also help fight inflammation. The low-glycemic foods will supposedly keep my blood sugar in check, while beets boost iron for anemic folks like myself, and seaweed can replaces minerals lost.

How I Felt: Out the gate I have cramping that’s not unlike getting a womb massage from Edward Scissorhands, extreme nausea, heavy bleeding, and a shooting pain in my left breast. Fun times all around. I still haven’t kicked my coffee habit but I’m starting to seriously consider because this is one doozy of a period. In short: not only do I not notice any improvement just yet (given, it’s early), but I could swear some symptoms are even worse.

Follicular Phase (Duration: 7-10 days)

The follicular phase is when the follicles in your ovary mature, just before you enter ovulation.

Recommended Foods: Fresh fruits and vegetables; hearty whole grains (like buckwheat); lean protein (seafood or beans, since I’m not doing red meat).

The Science: According to MyFlo, my hormones are at low levels post-menstruation and nutrient-packed foods will get my energy back on track.

How I Felt: Though I was tired as hell, I woke up around 4 a.m. every night (WHY), so I finally vowed to swap out coffee for matcha (that’s something, no?). To help me sleep and curb sugar cravings, I’d have a cup of Four Sigmatic’s adaptogenic hot cocoa after dinner every night, which was a trick I learned during the one-and-only cleanse I’ve done in my life. This tasty little elixir has reishi mushrooms to soothe the stress monster that had taken over my body and cinnamon and coconut palm sugar to give me the sweet fix I’d been hankering for without spiking my blood sugar.

Ovulation (Duration: 3-5 days)

Ovulation occurs when your matured egg is released from the ovary, travels down the Fallopian tube, and patiently awaits being fertilized. This is the phase where those who want to — or don’t want to — get pregnant should be on high alert.

Recommended Foods: Fibrous fruits and veggies and light grains, like corn and quinoa.

The Science: During this phase, testosterone surges, then drops. According to Vitti, “elimination” (read: poop) is an important part of ridding your body of the surplus of estrogen, hence all that fiber. Eating lots of raw fruits and veggies gives you the vitamins and antioxidants for high-functioning and healthy ovaries.

How I Felt: Something strange happened. By this stage in the game, I honestly started to believe that my usual symptoms in each cycle had been magnified. My breast pain returned, but in the form of overall swollen tenderness, and already I was experiencing some cramping. My joints were sore, my chin still hadn’t totally cleared and my bloat was like that last party guest who refused to leave. WHY?!

Right around the 30-day mark, I felt like I was falling apart. Were my hormones totally confused? What the hell had I done?

Out of desperation, I finally cut out caffeine completely, supplementing with herbal chicory coffee. Additionally, I started taking evening primrose oil capsules daily and drinking tea with dong quai — both of which balance hormones and are recommended by Vitti’s text. Then, the clouds parted: my omnipresent chin acne dissipated for the first time in I don’t even know and I began waking up to a (relatively) flat tummy. Some symptoms still have a ways to go (a full night of uninterrupted sleep would still be nice) as I imagine breaking the cycle probably takes a bit longer than a month.

As woo-woo as it sounds, I believe I’ve experienced a powerful transformation in simply being this tuned-in to my body and considerate of what goes into it. As time goes by, and I’m given physiological clues as to what’s benefitting — and not benefitting — my health, I may have (okay, I will have) a cup of coffee or a slice of pizza again. To be honest, what MyFlo has taught me to do is not wholly radical: I ate all the things I should probably have been eating anyways — but perhaps never knew how foods could so directly affect my hormonal health and aid in symptoms I thought I’d never kick for good. But beyond that, I believe it’s been invaluable to have this experiment as a way of engaging with friends about their own “period problems,” knowing that — at the very least — I’m definitely not in this alone.

Ashley Tibbits is an LA-based freelance writer. She’s still not sure whether it’s appropriate to mention her cats in these things. Follow her on Instagram here and check out her website here.

Photos by Louisiana Mei Gelpi; Creative Direction by Emily Zirimis. 

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