#they have minimal fruit trees

[ixtaek]

Look I know we normally use fanfic to fix like, major problems in canon or fulfill our wildest dreams or whatever. But can I please reject the specific piece of canon that there are no fish in the whole Great Sea?

[turtlesandfrogs]

Ok, now I'm really concerned that how to prevent rats isn't common knowledge like I thought it was. So, to anyone whose parents/guardians/adults didn't teach you, here's the basics of prevention*:

Rats, like you, need three things: food, water, and shelter. If they don't get these things, they don't bother sticking around. Access to food is probably the biggest draw, and the one you can do the most about.

Rats eat the same foods you do, and the same food that most pets eat. You don't want them to have access to this food, so:

Don't leave dirty dishes laying around, the smell will attract rats. Don't put leave dirty dishes in your bed room, or under the couch, or in your car, or whatever. Dishwashers are great, but if you don't have a functional one, and you're low on energy/executive function, at a minimum cover your dirty dishes with soapy water instead of leaving them out. Rats can't eat soapy food.

Work to minimize food waste, because the smell of tasty food in your compost or garbage will attract rats.

Don't put food scraps in your indoor garbage unless your garbage can is rat proof. Take it outside asap, to a rat-proof bin.

When composting, if you're composting food that would be attractive to rats (grains, fats/oils, dairy, meat) it's best to: bury the food down in the center of the pile, try out bokashi composting, or have a rat-proof composter. Generally people do tell you not to compost dairy and meat, but I do know that some people do it anyway.

Keep your grains & legumes in rodent proof-containers. Glass jars, metal trash cans, etc.

If you have dogs, put their food away at night. If you have birds or other animals that eat a seed-based diet, then it pays to make their food/enclosures inaccessible to rats as well. Cats are rat deterrents so leaving dry food out for them is probably the one exception.

Clean up spilled foods immediately.

If you have fruit trees (like those apple trees everyone has that were planted 3 or more decades ago) and notice that something besides a deer is eating them, it's really best to pick all the fruit. You probably can't eat it all, so giving it away is a good option. Compost the rotten/icky ones fallowing the advice above, or dig a hole and do some trench composting.

Rats also need water, which is another reason to make sure you don't have any leaks anywhere, and to not leave beverages out in open containers.

Beyond that, thoroughly looking around your house, inside and out, to make sure there's no access points. Vents can be covered with wire mesh, holes the size of a dime need to be patched (because mice exist, too). Keep vegetation clear from around the base of your house, and make sure there's no trees or shrubs growing close enough to your house that a rat could make the leap to your roof. Keep an eye out for tunnels near your house's foundation, because they will tunnel underneath.

Also, while I'm at it, for the love of your house's structural integrity, DO NOT store wood piles against your house. Termites people!!!

And yes, there's a reason why cats are such a common pet. Not only do they hunt rats, the very smell of a cat is enough to deter rats. Do not just get a cat for rat prevention though, only get a cat if you're going to provide it a good home and are able to take on the additional care tasks without over extending yourself. Getting a housemate that comes with a cat is a great alternative to getting your own cat (and I'm only halfway joking).

*because prevention is much easier and much less terrible than dealing with an infestation. Prevention is so, so, so much easier than getting rid of them, particularly because once they're there, they'll start eating other things that wouldn't have been enough by themselves to draw them in.

[mediumgayitalian]

The rules of Persephone’s garden don’t apply to him.

He’s not entirely sure why. He’s mortal, or at least half. No ichor flows through his veins, not that it helped Persephone. Perhaps it is because he already spends so much of his time in his father’s kingdom; perhaps the Fruit of the Underworld has lost its potency so far removed from the Ancient Lands, so long after Pam’s death.

Regardless, Nico gets to indulge.

Anything from the roundest, sweetest apples to the bitter tang of pink grapefruits, he has sat under the poplar trees and devoured. He likes fruit more than any other food group, more than any other taste. He has always had a sweet tooth. And his eyes eat as much as his lips, drinking in the glimmering sheen of dimpled lime peel and delicate pearls of round concord grapes. He has made himself sick eating strawberry after strawberry.

But his favourite, without question or pause, is a clementine.

The best he’s had, secretly, was not in his stepmother’s garden but in a tiny orchard in Algeria. Engineered for generations by human hand and grown under wide, sparkling sun, the skin had been bright and fragrant, pith minimal and pleasantly bitter, and thin-skinned globules of flesh so plump with juice they’d begged to be burst under his teeth. He’s dreamed about those clementines every week since he’d eaten them. If it wouldn’t kill him, he’d jump to the north African country every day and buy them in swathes.

Unfortunately, at camp, he’s stuck with what he’s got.

But they aren’t so bad.

“You have a sweet tooth worse than anyone I’ve ever met,” Will grumbles, poking at his shoulder. “And when she was 11, Kayla lived off Nerd ropes and Gushers for two months.”

Nico cracks a smile. “Kayla’s continued existence astounds me.”

“I do genuinely think she’s a medical marvel.”

“Don’t tell her that.”

“Believe me, I wasn’t planning on it.”

For a while there’s nothing except the tearing sound of Nico ripping off the peel of his citrus. He’s skilled enough to remove it in one go, but sometimes, as a random challenge, he tries to remove it in a certain shape. Today, for no particular reason, the peel comes off in the shape of a heart.

“I can feel you eyeing this,” he says, shooting an exasperated look over his shoulder. Will smiles small and guiltless, in response, raising and dropping his shoulder.

“Dunno what you’re talking about. Just wishin’ you’d eat a vegetable or two.”

Liar. Well, that exact sentence isn’t a lie — Will is such a bad vegetable pusher that he is often teased about secretly owning a farm — but it’s not what he’s thinking about. Nico isn’t stupid.

He sighs. “Here,” he grumbles, wedging his thumbs between the two hemispheres of the fruit and tearing. “You can have half.”

Will brightens. His smile is like clouds clearing, like the give of a snapping elastic. Startling, demanding, storm-cracking and loud. Eye-catching in every possible way.

“Thanks!”

He holds out a cupped palm, and Nico rests half the fruit inside it, fingers brushing the heel of his hand for no justifiable reason. It’s callused — most of his hand is callused. Nico wants to trace the outline of them, with his fingers and then his tongue.

He watches as Will brings the fruit to his mouth, happily munching on the whole thing without bothering to separate the sections, like always. Nico winces.

“You’re barbaric.”

“It goes to the same place! There is not logical reason to eat it section by section!”

“If the sections weren’t meant to be eaten one by one, they wouldn’t be naturally separated, you heathen.”

“Corn is naturally separated. D’you eat that kernel by kernel?”

Nico hates being friends with smart people.

Will laughs, and Nico’s eyes flutter shut, savouring.

“That’s what I thought.” He pops the last bite in his mouth, chewing and swallowing and smiling his dazzling smile, after, sticky citrus juice making his lips look shiny. “Thanks for sharing, Neeks.”

“Course,” murmurs Nico quietly, hiding his smile behind a segment of fruit. “Anytime.”

[spidervee]

afterglow (tangerine x reader)

summary: tangerine finds himself falling for the girl next door (part 1/3) words: 3.1k warnings: fem!reader, lotsa swears, sexual thoughts, implied sexual situations, implied violence, implied drug use, no use of y/n, neighbours to lovers trope, tangerine's angry inner monologue is a warning all its own, lemon being the best

You’re determined to move your groceries from the boot of your car to the front porch in a single trip. Mind, there’s not more than a dozen or so steps between the two, but it’s the principle of the matter—one trip is so much more satisfying than two. However, your determination did not account for the fact that you bought a family-sized box of Cheerios, a bag of flour, and a carton of eggs along with your usual run of fruits, vegetables, and pasta. Thus, you’re more than a little off-balance as you shoulder your canvas tote bags, your body tilting dangerously toward the left as you try to close the boot with the three fingers on your right hand that remain free. You miss, staggering forward and hitting your knees against the bumper and hissing out a curse.

“You quite alright there, love?” An amused voice distracts you from the pain of what will doubtlessly become a tender spot, though the sudden realisation that you have an audience is horrible, embarrassment flooding through you as you straighten up and try to look composed. 

“Brilliant,” you call back, refusing to look at the man you know is watching you. It’s the bloke next door, on the right, the tall one with the blue eyes and the weirdly retro moustache and the suits that look far too expensive for this neighbourhood. 

You’ve never exchanged more than a few words at a time with him, only interacting when necessary—the time a package of his got delivered to your porch, the time your cat climbed the drooping branches of the willow tree in his yard, and the time he’d nearly run you over with his car during your morning run. Admittedly, that last time had been rather terse, though it hadn’t stopped the minimal pleasantries neighbours were meant to exchange. The two of you still nodded politely at one another if you happened to cross paths. Sometimes you’d give a wave that he would return with a slightly more emphatic nod than his usual. 

So, it surprises you when he starts down his drive toward yours, flicking away the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips moments earlier. You try to hastily correct yourself, balance your posture, rearrange your bags so that you don’t look so helplessly overwhelmed, but his legs are too long and he’s by your side in just a few strides, helping you shrug off one of the totes, and then another. 

“Gonna break your bloody back,” he mutters, tone disapproving as he lifts the bags effortlessly in one hand and carries them to your front door. 

“I was managing,” you say sharply, embarrassment getting the best of you. He snorts, a derisive noise that only seeks to send your guard up even further, a scowl writing itself across your face. “I was!” 

“A simple thank you is all I need, love.” He turns to face you with those dazzling blue eyes and your throat feels suddenly dry, your body pinned under his stare. You want to protest, to underscore the fact that you’ve unloaded your groceries alone more than a hundred times and his little show of chivalry was entirely unnecessary. 

But all you can do is swallow, watching as his tattooed hands pull a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his tailored trousers. 

“Thanks,” you mutter. A grin turns up the corners of his mouth as he lights his cigarette and presses it between his lips. With a nod, he’s heading down your steps and back to his own porch, not another word exchanged between the two of you. 

You can’t stop thinking about him, damn it. Three days later and you’re still remembering the way his eyes danced over you, somehow appraising and appreciative all at once. You think you want to see more of him, feel his hands, that moustache scratching along the inside of your thighs. 

Maybe it’s been a while since you got laid. 

Because you shouldn’t be having these thoughts about the bloke next door—he’s definitely dodgy. He keeps odd hours and disappears for questionable stretches of time. He only ever has one visitor, a friendly bloke, sure, but almost as dodgy, driving a different car nearly every month. And you’re fairly certain you once saw him coming home with blood spattered on his crisp white shirt—not that you were watching, no, you’d just happened to be bringing in the shopping at the time. 

Still, when you find yourself out of sugar in the middle of baking cookies for tomorrow’s fundraiser, you’re desperate. And Mrs. Barry on the left is out at her daughter’s, so you’ve no choice but to go knock on the door and ask porn-stache if he can do you a real quick favour. 

You’re not sure what’s worse. That he answers the door with a gruff “whaddaya want?” 

Or that he’s shirtless, belt buckle hanging open and trousers slung low around his hips. 

“Sugar,” you manage to squeak out. And he raises a thick eyebrow at you, amused. 

“Right, sorry,” he grins, the gruffness gone in favour of something almost teasing. “Whaddaya want, sugar?”

Tangerine never gets visitors, unless he’s counting Lemon. He doesn’t count Lemon because it’s fuckin’ Lemon. There’s obligation there. Call it business. Call it brotherly love. Call it bloody codependency. 

And Lemon has a key. He never knocks. In fact, knocking is utterly fucking suspect in Tangerine’s humble opinion. It meant you were either going to open the door to the world’s dumbest fuckin’ assassin or someone was trying to lure you into a false sense of security. Or it was the lad delivering curry. But he hadn’t ordered any curry. 

So it’s not his fault, really, when he slips his gun into his back pocket before opening the door. The heft of it pulls his trousers ever so slightly more down his hips, but he’d been about to get into the shower and whoever the bastard at the door is doesn’t deserve his decency, not when they’re knocking on his fucking door like he’s invited them over for tea. 

But when he opens the door, his brow furrows immediately because there’s that sweet-looking bird from next door just stood on his bloody porch like she belongs there, eyes wide and a shy smile on her face. Tangerine takes care to puff up his chest a little bit because suddenly he’s not so terribly annoyed. 

Although the gun pressing into his tailbone is a fucking nuisance. 

There’s a plate in your hands, piled high with something that’s wrapped in aluminium, and you hold it out in his direction by way of greeting. Tangerine just looks at your offering, unaccustomed to receiving things. 

“Cookies,” you explain, “From the sugar I borrowed.” 

His brain searches for a snarky remark, a teasing word, anything to make this feel less intimate than it does because you’re standing on his porch with cookies you made for him like he’s not a bloody bastard who killed six men in Cape Town three weeks ago. But, his traitorous brain supplies nothing—not a single syllable to his suddenly parched tongue. 

So, he blinks at you, unsure what to say. His first instinct is to laugh, but he manages to suppress that and instead allows you to instead shove the plate of cookies into his hands and wave an awkward little goodbye. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, watching you walk away with the oddest sense of déja vu. But your front door has already closed behind you. 

Inside, Tangerine sets the plate aside on the corner of the counter, beside the spice rack and tucked away so he doesn’t have to think about the cookies. It’s less about the cookies themselves and more about the inkling of warmth that filled him when you graciously handed him the plate, a small smile playing on your lips like you knew they were fucking delicious. 

He has no intention of eating them. For all he knows, they’re laced with bloody poison. More likely, though, is that they’ll taste like the things he’s missing in his life and that’s so much more fucking depressing. 

He decides to shower, if for no other reason than to wash away the feelings you’ve left like electricity rippling along his skin. And, if he’s being honest, the shower is the best place for him to think about you right now. For…reasons. 

When he emerges, he’s calmer and decidedly happier…until he spies Lemon at his kitchen island, the plate of your cookies—his cookies—open in front of him. 

“Bruv, these cookies are fucking ace.” 

“No, you daft cunt don’t eat those!” 

Lemon doesn’t even pause in chewing, fixing his brother with a confused stare, eyebrows quirked. “Why the hell not?” 

“They’re…fucking hell, Lemon can’t you just listen?” Tangerine is incensed, hands wringing, “You always hafta ask a million questions like you’re the fucking coppers. Really gets on my tits, you know?”

“You’re angry,” Lemon says through a mouthful of cookie. 

“Bloody brilliant observation. Sherlock fucking Holmes over here. Call Scotland fucking Y….” 

“It’s not about the cookies.” Lemon cuts off his ranting with a well-timed observation. 

Tangerine breathes out heavily through his nose. “Sod off.” 

“Is it about a girl?” 

“Not a bloody girl.” 

“A boy?” 

“For Chrissake, Lemon we’re not in the fourth fucking grade!” 

“It’s that pretty little bird next door, innit?” 

“Fuck off.” 

He returns the plate with a handwritten note on a Post-It. His penmanship is nice enough, a neat if somewhat loopy cursive, telling you thank you for the cookies. It was Lemon’s fucking idea, being neighbourly and all that shite. He rings your bell, glad when you don’t answer so he can simply leave the plate on your welcome mat. 

You’re pruning roses the next time he sees you and the look of focus on your face, the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips, almost makes him smile—bloody fucking hell, who is he? 

Unlucky for him, you notice him and wave, shears in your raised hand so you look a bit barmy until you realise you’re waving a weapon around and quickly tuck them sheepishly behind your back. Tangerine, in a stunning display of idiocy that he will later want to smash his head into a wall over, begins to walk toward you. Like you’re a goddamn magnet. No, stronger than that. The sunshine around which the fucking earth of his own body has begun to orbit. Gravity makes no fucking sense anymore because if it did he would not be falling for the cute smile you fix him with, the stunningly normal and carefree way you adjust your sunhat and point out that your climbing roses are almost taller than you; the manner in which you wrinkle your nose at him and inform him—as if he doesn’t fucking know—that you don’t even know his name. 

He gives you the name on his most recent fake ID, Andrew—a perfectly nice and proper name, but then shakes his head. “Mates just call me Tangerine,” he tells you, neglecting to say that his enemies call him that as well, along with some choice other words.

“Tangerine?” More nose wrinkling and Tangerine is ready to take his own knees out with a billy club because they’re getting weaker by the fucking second standing here with you. 

“It’s a footie thing,” he lies, “That bloke you see coming and going is Lemon. He plays goal” 

“You play football?” 

More lies. More small talk. Until Lemon’s car pulls up and Tangerine is torn between relieved to see his brother and wanting to throw him off the fucking face of the earth. He tells you he best be going. You nod, holding out your hand, encased as it is in thick gardening gloves up to the elbow. 

“It was nice to meet you, Tang—oh! Sorry, is it just a footie thing?”

He takes your proffered hand and gives it a small squeeze. “No, love, you can call me whatever you’d like.” 

It’s 3 in the morning and you can’t sleep, tossing and turning as seemingly every embarrassing childhood moment comes back to haunt you from the depths of your mind. Since your bedroom is no refuge and you don’t particularly feel like catching anything on the telly, you seek a moment of solace on the porch, wondering if maybe, for once, the stars are out. 

But the only light, aside from the artificial yellow of the streetlamps, is the low glow of cigarette embers on Tangerine’s porch and you narrow your eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of his figure in the shadowy night. 

“Can’t sleep, love?” His voice rings through the silence and you take it as an invitation to walk over and join him. 

“One of those nights, I guess.” You shrug as you drop down onto the porch swing next to him. It’s an oddly homey thing to have there, you think, for a man who is not always home. Tangerine makes a noise of agreement in his throat. He’s familiar with those nights, has them every so often when his birthday is coming up and those incessant thoughts about what he’s done with his life start to creep up on him. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence until your head drops to the side, landing on his shoulder. If Tangerine is surprised by the contact, he doesn’t show it, remaining still other than the slight shift to accommodate you. 

There, on his porch, in the summer heat, you fall asleep against Tangerine, leaving him to glance up at the starless sky in askance because it all feels alarmingly normal and he doesn’t hate it.  

There’s screaming on the lawn. Not his lawn, so he shouldn’t really get involved, but the angry voice of a man calls out your name and his ears perk up, less out of interest and more out of a sudden desire to murder any bastard who dares raise his voice at you. 

Quietly, Tangerine slips out his front door to see what’s unfolding. You’re stood on your porch, arms crossed over your chest in defiance. There’s a man on the lawn, consumed by rage by the looks of it, and Tangerine contemplates popping inside to grab his gun.

“You stupid bitch!” 

“Get the fuck out.” Your voice is hard and Tangerine feels a stitch of pride at how stoic and unaffected you look by the absolute meltdown happening ten feet in front of you. But then, the man threatens to kill you and Tangerine is across his yard faster than he’s ever moved before, his fingers wrapped tightly around this fucking bloke’s wrist, staying him.  

“I think fucking not, mate,” Tangerine’s voice is low and threatening. “You touch her and I will cut every fucking one of your fingers off then shove them up your bastard arse before I fucking kill you. You don’t even fucking look at her. Tuck you tail between your legs and get the fuck out of here before you make me do something I’m gonna have too much fun doing to fucking regret.” 

It all happens quickly after that. The man shrugs Tangerine off, curses at him, looks about to pick a fight but must see the seasoned glint of violence in his blue eyes because he curses again and leaves in the car that’s been idling in front of your house the entire time. 

Tangerine turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow and he knows it’s a stupid fucking thing to say but he goes ahead and says it anyways because he can’t fucking help himself. “Didn’t mention you had a boyfriend, love.” 

To his surprise, you laugh. Loud. Heartily. It almost makes the tears that have welled up in your eyes disappear, but he can still see them. “That wanker was not my boyfriend.” When he looks at you, silently giving you space to continue, you sigh. “Brother,” you clarify, “He stops by once in a while for money.” 

Tangerine nods and you step into the front door, leaving it ajar for him to follow. “I’m making some tea,” you call over your shoulder, “Care to join me?” 

After that, he starts stopping in regularly. 

At first it’s just tea, sipped across from one another at the small glass table in your breakfast nook. Tangerine greets your cat, settles into his seat, talks about the latest book he’s reading. You try not to smile too big when Shelley, the cat in question, curls up on Tangerine’s lap, nor when he pretends to be cross about fur on his expensive pants. You pour the tea, respond in kind about the things you’re reading, complain a little bit about work and eventually, because he doesn’t offer the information freely, ask what it is he does for a living. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but when, with zero hesitation, he tells you he’s a banker you’re a little surprised. 

Soon, tea turns into suppers spent with your feet kicked up on the coffee table, plates balanced on laps—much to Shelley’s dismay as it means Tangerine’s legs are unavailable for snuggling.

You find yourself growing fonder of this man who has carved his way into your heart, made a place for himself amongst the fixtures of your home. He’s got sharp edges, certainly, yet you can’t help but to get caught on them, snagged on the roughness of him. 

After six or seven or eight dinners—you’ve lost count—you realise you want more. You don’t want to say goodbye to him only to retreat to your empty bed and thoughts of his hands and his lips. So when he says he ought to be going, you take a leap of faith. 

“Wait,” you whisper, gathering your nerve, hoping you haven’t grossly misjudged the situation. “Stay?” You voice quivers on the word, makes you sound uncertain, so you steel your nerves and try again. “I want you to stay.” 

It’s the first time you’ve seen Tangerine look flummoxed, look anything less than totally and completely sure of himself. He leans in slightly, clasps his hand over where you’re still holding his arm. “Love,” his voice is low, so dangerously low you might just fall into him straining to hear, “If I stay…” 

His words trail off, but you know what he’s implying. If he stays then you’ve crossed a line there’s no uncrossing. If he stays, he’ll want all of you that you’re willing to give. If he stays, he’ll absolutely ruin you for anyone who might come after him. 

“Stay,” you repeat, pressing your forehead to his. 

So he does. 

[neomujinjja]

BoyNextDoor Park Dates

Pairing: bf!boynextdoor x gn!reader

Genre: fluff so much fluff

Warnings: n/a

Jaehyun 재현

you guys watch the clouds together

you point out all of the characters and shapes you see to each other

so much giggling (jaehyun is silly)

arguing over how one cloud looks like 2 different things

he is not going down without a fight

jaehyun definitely puts his arm under your head and around your shoulder, with the other arm under his own head

so comfy that he falls asleep at one point

laying your head on his chest>>>

you cover him from the sun when it gets a little brighter

(how you cover him is up to your imagination)

you end up falling asleep too

you wake up to jaehyun playing with your hair

you stretch and almost smack him (that nap was TOO good)

the both of you stay out until it’s starts to rain

he walks you home with his umbrella over the both of you

you stop to splash in puddles together

sweet kisses goodbye 💜 (but not before you send him off with a blanket or an extra hoodie of his that you stole)

rest of the members under the cut!

Sungho 성호

to start off, the both of you go biking together <3

you attempt to ride his bike, but the wheels are too big

you race each other to the park

at the park, y'all have an art date !!!!

either you paint and show each other at the end

or you switch canvases every 30 minutes

mischievously swiping a little paint on each other’s face

soft kisses to get more paint on each other

he brings an extra canvas to make something special together

he tells you to put paint on your hand and you’re like ????? until you Realize and you’re like omg ☺️☺️☺️ that’s so cute 🥰🥰

you pick each other’s fave color and place your hands next to one another’s on the canvas

you make characters out of the handprints

playing on the park equipment while you wait for the canvases to dry

you guys set the canvases in a tree for safe keeping 🤞

he takes tons of photos

and he walks you home after getting lunch together at a local cafe

Riwoo 리우

a walk in the park

it’s the perfect date for him because it’s chill yet romantic

i can see it being either early morning or late at night

you and riwoo shyly hold hands the whole time

walking slowly, savoring every moment together 🥰🥰

he picks flowers in your fave color to tuck behind your ear

okay but putting a flower behind someone’s ear is SO intimate for no reason

gently tucking your hair before he places the flowers behind your ear

staring into each other’s wide eyes and blushing

dancing and being silly along the walking trail

he’d hum music for you which slowly progresses into the two of you singing together

picking more flowers together !!!!

stopping to play at the park before he takes you home

he kisses your cheek before leaving 🥰🩷

Taesan 태산

with taesan it’s just vibes

taesan picks out the music (which you don’t mind because his music taste>>)

you share earphones 🥰

you and taesan feed the ducks that are walking around

looking at the scenery around you and talking

you guys point out little animals that remind you of each other

there's a farmer’s market nearby so you both go

taking your time and stopping when something catches your eye

taesan sticks close to your side, keeping you out of harms way and minimizing the people you bump into

he buys a little something for y'all to snack on

you guys return to the park with fruits from the market

you share them as you lazily swing

(taesan let's you eat the majority)

he plays music on the speaker he brought

you guys play on the swings, the slide, and the spinners

when the fun has to end, he walks you home

he lends you his headphones to show you more music on the way home

at your door, you give him a quick peck on the cheek before putting his headphones on his head and hugging him super tight

he blushes and melts into the hug

(it’ll have him daydreaming the whole way home)

Leehan 이한

a cute picnic date

you know the fruit bowl with gummies and cider?

y'all do that but there's a Lot of gummies

(leehan eats them all)

feeding each other the leftover gummies !!!

the sandwiches are so yummy because leehan made them

after finishing up lunch, i can definitely see him taking you to a nearby river to cool down

you guys lay by the riverbank and watch the fish swim by

he teaches you different kinds of fish that swim by

you splash each other playfully

you guys go up a hill to watch the sunset and enjoy the breeze

you stare at each other for a little because you both think that the other is the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen

i think leehan would definitely tuck your hair behind your ear and smile softly at you

you vent to him while braiding his hair

he listens carefully before giving you advice

you both watch the rest of the sunset and talk about how pretty the colors are (but he thinks you’re prettier)

you exchange a gentle kiss before packing up and walking to your house

when you arrive, he lets you take the rest of the leftovers

he squeezes you tightly and plants a kiss in your hair before going home

Woonhak 운학

if it's after school, y'all do homework together

you help each other out and sometimes share answers

if it's on the weekend, then you play basketball together

y’all play a round of HORSE

maybe 1v1, first to 10

you do not mimic his shots accurately at ALL

but even if you aren't the best player, it's okay

hak just appreciates you being there with him

he loves that you’re taking the time to learn what he enjoys doing

he might even give you some lessons

“this one’s for you!” and he actually makes it because he’s woonhak

once y'all get tired, it's off to the convenience store to get food

so many snacks on top of your favorite ramen

playfully arguing about who pays

you guys share the food, occasionally feeding each other a chip

then you go back to his house to study for the upcoming exam

when he’s done, he starts working on music

he has you sing some things for him to sample

when you guys finish up, he walks you home

when you get to your house, he makes sure to greet your parents

hugs both you and your parents before going back to his house

[silverflqmes]

may i please please please request an angeal x reader where angeal comes back to town to visit his mom and he takes the reader around where he lives for fun & his mom spills very embarrassing things about him? i love the fact that you write about angeal since he's on the rarer side of liking<3 thank you so much and have a nice rest of your day!

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄.

notes. hi hi anon, this is such a cute prompt, i hope my execution is to your liking<3 and i agree he fr is an underrated king, so i shall do my best to serve🫡

genre. fluff

angeal hewley x gn!reader.

the fresh air of banora reminded angeal of how much he had missed home, being among the smog of midgar as he’d been.

after weeks of being asked- urged to visit his hometown with his partner of seven months now, the first class SOLDIER had reluctantly taken a small leave of absence. a few days away from action couldn’t be too, too bad.

besides — his two friends promised to deal with his share of missions. so his worries lessened.

however, he still couldn’t help the nerves he had for how things would go with his mother. granted, she was incredibly eager in the letters she had written him and excited to be meeting you — his beloved. but that excitement was what worried angeal.. who knew what she would spill about him, he had all sorts of embarrassing memories! especially with genesis..

the teal eyed male prayed the house would be enough for you — he hadn’t exactly lived a life of luxury, so the space was small.. but cozy. he hoped you found it the same, despite the minimal space.

“what’s it like being home after so long? did you miss it??” your voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts, a smile on your lips as he turned to face you with one of his own.

how did it feel, indeed.. “it’s always pleasant to be home, i haven’t been here in a good while.. though it hasn’t changed a bit.” he chuckled, gazing up at the overgrown arch of violet shapes, dangling from their branches. “looks like we came at the right time, too.”

it was none other the native fruit of his village.

for them to be in full harvest upon his arrival, must have been a sign that he was meant to be here, and with you, no less.

“woah, they’re purple!” you beamed in astonishment, wondering for a moment if you’d perhaps been color blind — but thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

“despite their name, they’re called banora whites — or dumbapples, as some like to refer to them as well, for their irregular harvests.” angeal explained, a eyes softening a bit. “the best ones came from the tree that grew at genesis’ estate.” he mused, smiling fondly.

your eyes managed to catch the look on his face before you let out a thoughtful hum. “is that so? maybe we should bring some back for him! oh- and sephiroth too! i think they’ll both appreciate it a lot.” you laughed, taking ahold of your lover’s hand as you watched a line of houses come into view.

banora was small, but quaint. it felt like an honor to be there beside angeal — to have the privilege of being shown around the place he’d grown up in. you couldn’t help but feel special.

“think so?” he asked for certainty before letting out a snort. “perhaps they will. we can pick some tomorrow if you’d like, my mother’s likely going to keep us for the remainder of the day.” the first could recall her letters pressing for him to bring you by, never failing to bring you up since the very first letter he’d sent out confirming his relationship. “i hope that’s alright with you.”

blinking, you then nudged his shoulder, rolling your eyes. “are you kidding?? of course it is! i have got to meet your mom and thank her for bringing the literal most perfect man to have ever existed into the world!” you grinned, squeezing his hand. “so let’s not keep her waiting!”

shock painted his features before he shook his head in defeat, heaving an amused sigh as a rosy hue colored his cheeks. “as you wish..”

it hadn’t taken long for angeal and yourself to arrive at his doorstep, a combination of pleasant aromas invading your senses. just how much had his mother prepared..?

your boyfriend reached for the knob, holding the door open for you before closing it behind himself. “and we’re here.” he spoke up gently, removing the buster sword from his back to rest it against the wall. “i apologize if it’s not much.. but, it’s home.”

the space was relatively small, but cozy — it felt warm and homelike, somehow, despite having only just arrived there.

your lips parted to protest, wanting to say that it was perfect, only for a gasp to intercept you.

“a-angeal, could it be?” a voice chimed in, the sound of rushing water silencing as the dark haired woman in the kitchenette turned to face you both.

her eyes seemed to gloss over with tears as she made her way up to your lover, placing her hands on his cheeks tenderly. “my dearest son, oh how you’ve grown..” the woman whispered incredulously, smiling nostalgically. “it feels like only yesterday that you were just outside, running around with genesis.. now, you’ve returned as a strong, handsome SOLDIER, that has brought home the beloved he speaks of so highly in his letters.” her attention shifted to you as she took your hands in her own, squeezing them adoringly. “you must be y/n, goodness, you’re even more lovely in person! i trust that angeal has been treating you well?”

the male in question let out a breath, flushing a bit. “mother..”

a warmth spread through your chest as you fluttered your lashes before nodding rapidly. “t-that’s me! it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss hewley! rest assured that angeal has taken very good care of me thus far- i’m eternally grateful for him, so thank you for allowing me to date your son, and for inviting me here!” you bowed, wanting to express your appreciation as best as you could. should all go well, this would be your future mother in law!

it shocked her in all honesty. how had his silly son captured the heart of such a sweetheart?? truly, you were too good for this world!

“please, gillian is fine.” she assured you softly, wiping her tears before letting out a soft laugh. “i’m relieved to hear that my son has been well to you, i can worry less now, knowing that he is aware on how to treat his lover.” the charcoal haired woman sighed out contentedly before ushering you in. “ah- come in, make yourself comfortable! our humble abode may lack in space — but treat it as though it were your own. lunch will be ready shortly!”

the mako eyed male inclined his head, picking up your bags. “i’ll put these in my room. while i’d offer a tour, there isn’t much to show..” he chuckled awkwardly, walking ahead to his old bedroom.

you rolled your eyes, finally calming down from your initial bashfulness. “show away! don’t go gatekeeping!” you scolded lightly, attempting to snatch a bag off of him to lend assistance, however.. being as enhanced as he was.. your partner had been quicker.

“gatekeeping?” he repeated before laughing again. “alright, alright. well- this is my room. growing up, we didn’t have much- so it’s on the bare side, although genesis insisted on hanging up pictures of us as mementos.” he explained, smiling to himself a little. “he had also gifted me a copy of loveless, stating that our friendship required me to have one.”

that made you shake your head, a snicker tumbling past your lips. “that sounds like him for sure. you guys look so adorable, you were so so cute, angeal!!”

he rubbed his neck, averting his gaze. “cute is the last word i would use to describe myself.. but if you say so.” the SOLDIER loosed a low breath, smiling to himself before guiding you out. “the next room over is my mother’s, beside it is the restroom.. and i think that’s it.” he concluded, stopping to take in the living room.

not much had changed since he’d last been there, the raven haired male realized. save for a few extra photos his mother had likely framed in his absence.

“angeal, just in time! will you help with setting things up? i might have made too much..” gillian spoke up with a nervous chuckle, tucking a pair of wooden salad tongs into the bowl of greens.

too much felt like an understatement.. he hoped everything would fit on the table.

“let me!” you piped up, snapping the first out of his daze as you jogged up to his mother. “least i can do for receiving your hospitality!”

the older woman blinked before shaking her head. “nonsense, you are our guest! i couldn’t allow that-!” but your hands had already pried the bowl out of her grasp as you flashed a small, reassuring grin.

“doesn’t mean a ‘guest’ can’t lend a hand!”

with that said, the table set in a shorter amount of time, a whisper of thanks expressed for the food before the three of you ate in a comfortable silence.

there was idle chatter here and there, mostly exchanged between yourself and gillian — who was eager to pull out photo albums that you were certainly not opposed to viewing. angeal baby pictures?? that was all the convincing you needed!

“and this one is of him taking his first steps.” she cooed softly, reminiscing in the memory. “cutie, isn’t he?”

you melted at the sight, whining softly. “that’s what i’ve been saying! see ang, even your mom agrees!”

bringing a palm to his face, the male in question let out a soft breath of exasperation. although there was no hiding that undeniable smile on his face.

he was glad he’d given in to taking this small trip home that his two friends had urged him ( for the most part ) into. being back in banora and with his mother brought an indescribable warmth to his chest, which only increased with you at the very table he’d grown up eating at.

when had he gotten so lucky?

“ah- and this one is of him and genesis bathing together-”

or unlucky, in some cases..

“i-i think that’s enough photos for today, mother..”

something told him there would be handsome amounts of embarrassment in the coming days.

he prayed sephiroth and genesis, especially, wouldn’t catch wind of it..

notes. whoops, i had this sitting and finally got around to finishing it. little rushed at the end but i’m hoping it’s good and that i wrote angeal alright..

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[reallyromealone]

NOZEL SILVA X MALE READER

👾 warnings ⭐

Male reader, mpreg, omegaverse, Omega male reader, fluff, nesting, reader calls out Nozel being shitty to the clover kingdoms subjects

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Nozel never knew what to do with his mate, (name) was an enigma to say the least.

(Name) was the prince of the heart kingdom, the younger brother of Queen lolopetchka and to strengthen the bonds of the kingdoms (name) and Nozel wed.

(Name) didn't take after the water magic his mother possessed but instead the plant magic like his father, using it to create crops to send to struggling villages around the kingdom.

"You're not going" Nozel said strictly to his mate, (name) crossing his arms in defiance "and why not?"

"It's dangerous for an Omega to go alone"

"What if I didn't go alone?"

"And who did you convince to do this with?"

"...the back bulls" (name) mumbled and Nozel stared him down "absolutely not" he said coldly, watching his mate deflate "then you come with me!"

"No"

"Why not?!"

"I have better things to attend to"

"More important than helping your people?" In the heart kingdom, the Royals did anything they could for their people, the callousness of the clover kingdom infuriated (name).

The village was struggling with crop fertility and winter was only five months away... (Name) didn't like the idea of them struggling like that.

Noelle couldn't believe she was going against her brothers words and helping the other, Asta excited to go out "this is great! You must be strong to be able to do this!" Asta boasted and (name) bit his lip, he felt bad not following his alphas command but... People needed him.

And his sister always taught him that one's subjects lives came before ones own.

Noelle was in awe as she watched her brother in law use his magic, the ground glowing beneath them before plant life began sprouting, fruit trees and various plants around the farm land.

Nozel was fuming as he searched high and low for his Omega, practically putting out a wanted poster for the fucker.

"Nozel!" Noelle said panicked as Asta carried an unconscious (name), the Omega looking worse for wear "what happened?!" Nozel seethed as he took his mate "he was helping a village with their crops and just suddenly collapsed!"

Nozel didn't say anything as he took his Omega to the silver eagles base and to their room, setting the Omega in the nest.

(Name) slept for a few hours before waking, Nozel doing paperwork as he spoke "were you aware you are with pup?" His voice even but it was clear he was upset... But this was the wrong move as (name) gripped his stomach and stressed pharamones leaked everywhere, Nozel knew his Omega well and walked to him, pulling him close to scent him.

"The pups safe, you over used your magic on a trip I clearly remember barring you from going to"

"If I didn't... They wouldn't have made it through the winter... They would have died..." (Name) said teary eyed "I don't understand your reluctance to help those who are supposed to be your subjects... " This genuinely upset (name), the Omega who spent his life helping those of the heart kingdom with anything and everything because he was royalty, his job was to support and lift the kingdom.

"..." Nozel was silent as he held his Omega close "you can't go out to random villages" he said and felt (name) curl his fingers around his cape angrily "but... We can send supply crates to village's in need"

(Name) perked up considerably as he shifted to look at his mate wide eyed "you seem to be hellbent on this, just no more adventures"

"Can I help around the capital?"

"Be thankful I'm not locking you away in the castle"

(Name) didn't try pushing his luck as he chirped and nosed at Nozels jaw while the Alpha moved to touch the bump "I expect minimal magic while you are carrying our pup"

"Our baby.." (name) said happily as he held onto the Alpha who felt his heart warm at the others words "yes yes, our baby"

[evilautisticsociety]

Making a master list for all the great Hopepunk Solarpunk posts ive seen (IT UPDATES!!)

you don’t have to read all of this! you can scroll and find ones that interest you, id bold the ones that i want you to see but then all the links would be bold lmao

giving this to my future self

recipes under 45 minutes, 5 or less ingredients

What is conformity?

What is Solarpunk? (reddit masterpost)

Hattie Carthan- A 60 year old black women who paved the way (website)

Rules of Guerrilla Gardening (youtube)

When to do Guerrilla Gardening (and when not to

Easy way to do Guerrila Gardening (no seed bombs needed) (youtube)

Hope is not mindless optimism

Solar punks are against a shitty future

Deeeefinitely don’t look at the native plants and plant them alongside sidewalks to make the world greener and prettier

How to really make a difference

It is the cohabitation that makes all things beautiful.

Buy Nothing group; becoming a community

Fixing clothes- how to do it

Know your local communities

What if we stop an apocalypse?

Individual action into collective action

Wallgardens- More accessible and less space needed

Gardening for a climate resistance

Social Ecology

Actual solarpunk vs misconception

How to help with little energy/effort

An actual ecovillage!!

Attracting native birds

Amazing Ecovillage (tiktok vid)

Reconstructed Railway Bridge (tiktok vid)

What is Solarpunk? (youtube(

How can we make Solarpunk a reality? (youtube)

A cool guerrilla gardening group (youtube)

How radical gardeners took back centeral city (yourube)

Trees bring rain

Minimalism vs Solarpunk

The first guerrilla gardener (website)

More about Hattie Carthan (website)

Project of homes for homeless

Recommended youruber for Solarpunk

The problem with individualism

California has passed a food law! (Website)

How to be a Druid

How to make Biomass sustainable again

Indigenous Climate Plan!!! (Website)

What is Solarpunk? (website)

Permaculture

Conventional vs Unconventional Permaculture

Independent Gardening is NOT Inaccessible!

Role of Poor Soil

Example of a Guerilla Gardening Community

Seed Companies

How to Start a Garden (for FREE!!)

Affective Mousetrap (no rat poison needed)

How to get started with a new climate project (Instagram)

A district in Japan which works together with fish

How to start medicinal garden

Solar panels work

Ideas to improve bus stop

Kinetic energy power sources

Solar farms

Solarpunk Poetry

Food map :0 (where wild fruit/owned fruit trees are)

How to choose hope

How to turn your neighbourhood into a village

Creating a liberating society this sets off my warning sirens but idk look into it

Creating a Solarpunk city

Ableism, Cottagecire, and Solarpunk

Increasing soil capacity for water

Sourdough Recipe :3

Anarchists Calisthetics (anarcht every day!)

Guerilla gardening tutorial

[great-and-small]

hey i know this is really heavy but... My pet of 13 years was put to sleep yesterday morning and I was wondering if you have any tips on handling the loss and absence of him. My whole family is struggling really hard and I would appreciate it.

Anon I have been thinking about how to answer this and what words of comfort I can offer you in this time of grief. I have held the hand of so many people through the death of their pet and still I oftentimes find myself at a loss for words. It’s something I think about a lot, so I’m sorry that this is quite long-winded.

I was driving my grandmother to a doctors appointment a few weeks ago and she was telling me about her first dog, a Boston terrier named Guppy that she’d had since she was 8 years old. She told me that during her first year in college she received an unexpected phone call from home out of the blue. In those times, phone calls were expensive and you really only got an unscheduled call when a relative or loved one had passed away. She told me that as she was walking to the room to take the call she had prayed to God that the news on the other end of the line would be the death of her own grandmother, rather than the now geriatric Guppy who had been sick for some time. It was a call about Guppy of course, and my grandma told me she’s been guilty her whole life for wishing that a family member had died instead. She told me that she was intentionally sharing this story with me because she didn’t want me to ever feel guilty if I grieve the loss of my dog more than I do her death someday. She told me that the love of a pet is something different, and losing it hurts in a different way.

This was a morbid story with a morbid sentiment (though entirely in character for my grandma) but it got me thinking about the nature of our grief for pets. They are such constants in our lives that in many ways losing them can be harder to bear than the loss of someone who matters to you in a completely different way. My grandma didn’t love her dog more than she loved her relative, it’s just a different type of grief.

Do not let anyone (including yourself) minimize your loss, because your pet was here, they were important, and your love for them mattered immensely.

So now let me say this; I am so happy that your pet was able to spend 13 years with a family that loved and treasured them. I hope for every single one of my patients to have that safety and warmth and affection, your pet was lucky to be so dearly loved. That said, here are some little things that I will recommend to people who ask me for help in dealing with the loss of their companion.

Take things one day at a time. This sounds like a cliche and maybe it is one but I found it helped me. Try not to think about the future without your pet, but focus on getting through the day, especially in the short term after the loss. Take care of yourself and your physical needs as much as you can.

Actively grieve your pet. By this I mean, dealing with grief is hard work that cannot be ignored or put aside. Rather than shying away from memories of your pet, take the time to purposefully think about them and the life they shared with you. It hurts and it sucks so much, but there is no shortcut through it.

Memorialize your pet. This can be anything, but try to find a way to honor your pet’s memory. Make a painting, or volunteer at an animal shelter for a day, donate old blankets to a vets office in your pets name, make a rock garden, buy a fruit tree and plant it somewhere, put together a photo collage of your pet. Doing little things like this helped me more than anything else when I was grieving my dog.

Talk about them. It seems so dumb but I swear it helps. Talk about what they were like when they were little, what funny things they did to make you laugh, what it meant to have them by your side through all those years. It doesn’t have to be a therapist, but find someone kind who can listen to the stories about your pet that made them who they were.

And most of all please know that someday (maybe not soon, but someday) it will hurt less. In the meantime please be kind to yourself as much as you can.

[dilf-din]

Suddenly

Chapter 1: Spring

Din Djarin x Florist!Reader

WC: 2100

Warnings: absolutely none, all fluff and domestic cuteness, no use of y/n but reader does have a nickname and is female presenting

A/N: I told y’all I was going to exploit this little house and the time has come. I was planning on this just being a little one shot, but I fell in love with the dynamic so it’ll be a short series, just 4 chapters! Listen to Venus by Sleeping at Last to get the inspo for this little story. Enjoy 💖

Chapter 2

After a while, I thought I'd never find you

I convinced myself that I would never find you

When suddenly, I saw you

“It’s good to have you back, Mando,” Karga smiled warmly sliding a bag of credits across the table in exchange for the cleared pucks he had brought into the High Magistrate’s office. Mando sat relaxed in a large leather chair across from Greef Karga, open arms draped lazily across the seat. He was tossing a small green fruit up into the air and catching it with a gloved hand listening to the man’s booming voice brag about the shops that would be opening in the newly renovated town square.

“We’d love to have you at the opening ceremony, you are a vital part of our economy here on Nevarro, after all.”

Mando hummed in response. “I’ll do my best to be there.”

While he did feel some sense of obligation to the man who had gifted him a house, he also didn’t do things that he didn’t want to. Karga knew that. For years their relationship had been a bit of a power struggle, but Mando always came out on top.

He looked over at Grogu who was quietly watching a children’s program on a holopad in the seat next to him.

“Time to go, kid,” he said, rubbing his ears gently.

Grogu nodded, lifting up the pad for his dad to tuck into the pack that hung on his hip. Mando tucked the bag of credits next to it and rose to shake Karga’s hand.

“Two days from now! I’ll save you and the little one a seat to watch the parade!” he called after the pair as they made their way out of his office.

When they stepped outside on the warm path, Grogu held his hands up and chirped, “Buir!”

Din chuckled and scooped him into the crook of his arm. “C’mere ad’ika.”

The morning sun climbed higher into the cloudless sky casting warm rays onto the crowded market place. Din’s boots made a padded thud as he marched down the black stone path towards the booths selling local treats and produce. A sea of voices chattering with the vendors, the smell of roasted meat in a sweet marinade, bright colored banners advertising their wares, Grogu loved coming to the market. His ears turned in every direction at each new voice, nose pointed up to follow the wafting scents.

Din purchased a dozen of his favorite sweet rolls, passing one to the child to munch on while he stocked up on the rest of the supplies they would need for the coming week. With a pack sufficiently full, Mando made his way to the edge of town, where he had parked the old speeder bike he bought off of the Anzellans. It wasn’t anything high tech, parts of it rusted with age, but it got them from their little cabin to the bustling town and back. The ride out was twenty minutes of silent bliss. Some scraggly trees and shrubs dotting the otherwise barren landscape, no other homes around for several kilometers. He reveled in the solitude. Din had considered planting a small garden come summer, something to add some color to the greys and browns.

He wiped his boots on the mat in front of the door before entering their small home. Grogu did a flip to the floor and took off after a ball Greef Karga had gifted him with. The cabin came fully furnished but minimally decorated. There was nothing about it that told you anything about who lived there other than the basket of toys that sat in the living area hinting at a small child’s presence. The kitchen and living area were connected in one large space, the only separation provided by a lengthy island across from the stove. Two bedrooms sat at the far end of the house separated by a bathroom in the middle. The second bedroom was made up for a guest if he ever had one. A bedside table with a lamp, an empty closet, a nice sized bed with white sheets covered in delicate grey leaves and vines. Din had purchased a bassinet for Grogu, it stayed tucked in the corner of the main suite he slept in. They preferred to sleep near each other after all their travels and time spent tucked in the sleeping nook of the Crest.

Grogu giggled and babbled about his ball, contentedly smacking it around the room, weaving in between the couch and arm chairs. Din chuckled to himself. The bag of groceries sat heavy on the counter, threatening to spill over at any moment, so he set to unpacking their little haul. Fresh fruit and bread laid out on the counter for easy access. Some meats and cheeses stocking their fridge unit alongside some of Grogu’s favorite juice. Din had even picked up a fresh bag of caf to brew from some far off, mid rim planet.

He breathed in, lungs full of thankfulness. When he first laid eyes on Grogu those years ago that felt like a lifetime, he never imagined their story playing out the way it had, that he would be so lucky as to live out a quiet life with him between jobs. Din felt like the puzzle was finally coming together. There was no box to match it to, but he could see the picture coming into focus with just a few missing pieces. He paid no mind to those blurred out areas, he was more than content, he was happy for the first time in his life.

Din stood behind the crowd, arms crossed over his beskar plated chest. Karga had Grogu in his lap as they watched the small parade circle around the town square. All the school aged children in bright colors waving and grinning, a few of the older kids from the secondary school beating drums and playing a light melody on flute. There were a few dancers and people handing out flowers and candies to the townspeople lining the street. Grogu was clapping and waving, that’s when Din saw you for the first time. His breath caught in his chest in an inexplicable way. Your hair was braided back with flowers tucked in carefully, a crown of daisies atop of your head. You had on a white, billowy shirt that hung off your shoulders tucked into a long, flowing turquoise skirt with a thick belt of brown leather separating the two garments. You were hand in hand with one of the younger kids, skipping along beside them. When you passed by the section they were watching from, you plucked the flower crown off of your head and set it atop Grogu’s.

“Buir!” he squealed in joy turning to face Din. Your eyes followed Grogu’s and you gave a small wave to the silver plated man before dancing further along the stone path.

Din felt a rush of heat to his cheeks, an ache in his chest he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling again until this moment. Suddenly, the blurry parts of the picture started to come into focus, and it looked a lot like you. No, this was crazy, he was jumping way too far ahead. He didn’t even know your name.

He didn’t even know your name, and yet he felt drawn to you, captivated by your kind smile, the gentle rhythm of your feet as you danced away. The lilt of your laugh carried to him on the breeze, and he knew he was a dead man. His gaze returned to Grogu who was bouncing with excitement, his little hands drawing up to touch the flowers resting on his head.

Din kicked off of the wall he was leaning against to bend his head into Karga’s earshot.

“Who was that?”

“That was my lovely new flower shop owner!” Karga beamed. “She just moved here from Naboo! I think she’s going to make this little town a lot prettier, ‘eh, Mando?” he asked with an elbow to the ribs.

Although he couldn’t see his face, Karga could imagine the exact expression painted across it and he laughed heartily before pointing out a juggler to Grogu.

Din leaned back against the wall with a slight shake of his head. The parade was nearing a close, and he wondered about seeking you out when the festivities died down.

He decided to make a few stops around the market before heading to see if you would be at your shop to speak to you. He tried to calm down the race of his heart as he assembled a small welcome basket to present you with. He tucked a black kerchief with delicate silver stars stitched across it into the bottom of a small, woven basket before filling it with a fresh loaf of bread, a jar of jam and local honey, a brick of hard cheese imported from another system, and a magnet that said “Welcome to Nevarro!” across a background of two volcanoes with a river of lava running between them.

What if you thought this was silly or too forward. He almost talked himself out of it, but his feet on autopilot pulled him to the front of your shop. “Bloom” stretched across the top of the large window in a curling font, the space below filled with blue and lavender floral arrangements. A small wooden sign that appeared to be hand painted swung above the door when he pushed it open. A small bell tinkled alerting whoever might have been there to his presence, so he decided it was too late to back down.

“Be right there!”

You were up on a stool, in the same white shirt as before, but paint covered overalls now hanging from your lower half. A paintbrush in hand as you carefully listed your prices in thin white paint strokes against the navy blue wall behind the register. From here he could see that top of what seemed to be a delicate geometric tattoo running the very center of your spine. You finished the number you were carefully outlining and hopped down, recognizing them instantly.

“Well hey you!” you smiled warmly at the pair approaching your counter. Grogu hopped up wiggling his little legs as he got his footing and waved at you. You knelt down to his level and waved back.

“Here,” Din said extending the basket, “I wanted to get you something to say thank you for today.”

Your eyes wide at the kind gesture, “Well thank you, but that isn’t necessary. It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t though.” Din hesitated, his words coming slowly as if carefully choosing them, “He’s had a very hard life, endured much more than anyone should have to, so anything or anybody that allows him to just be a kid is something I’ll always be thankful for.”

Your gaze softened even more somehow as you rubbed his soft head. Grogu leaned into the touch, big brown eyes squeezed tight.

“Well thank you again,” you trailed off, the empty space searching for a name.

“People call me Mando, and this is Grogu.”

You gave him your name with a smile, “But a lot of people call me Milla.”

“Like the flower?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Yeah, how do you know of millaflowers? Have you been to Naboo?”

“A handful of times. My work takes me all over the galaxy.”

“Well I’m sure you’re full of stories,” you grinned straightening up from where you had been bent over to talk to the child. “You’ll have to tell me some sometime.”

“I’ll be seeing you around I’m sure, I was thinking of planting a small garden soon. I’m sure you can recommend a few things that will take well to the soil here.”

“Come by any time. It was a pleasure to meet you, especially you, Grogu,” you smiled once more reaching out to rub his ear.

“Take care, Milla,” Din called as he exited the shop. You smiled at the nickname and the gentle tingle of the bell as they disappeared from your view.

Grogu grunted in disapproval as his father carried him out of the shop and back towards their parked speeder.

“I know kid, I didn’t want to wear out our welcome, but trust me, I could’ve stayed there all day.”

He was already thinking of excuses to stop by your shop again. He’d open a kriffing landscaping company if it meant he got to see your smile every day. Maker, he was in over his head.

Mando’a translations

Buir: father

Ad’ika: little one

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

[needfantasticstories]

CAMPSIDE PRANKS 1: Wild gets bored Waiting for Legend 

Wild had already cooked heart soup, hearty elixirs, hearty simmered fruit, and had at least two dozen stamina elixirs ready to go for the Vet when he finally woke up from his fever. 

There was nothing much else for the heroes to do while they waited for the Hero of Legend to recover. 

As morning became afternoon, The Champion put away the clean pots and ladles, and sat on a log, bouncing his knees and looking all around the camp. Time and Four polished armor, Warrior and Hyrule hung up laundry. Sky cleaned and polished leather with Twilight. Wind sat in a tree with Aryll’s spyglass, keeping diligent watch for monsters. 

This in-between era provided few clues regarding their place in time, and the Vetern’s fever worried them. They’d ruled out black blood right away, and potions had minimal effect on illnesses, and so they resigned themselves to waiting it out. Luckily, his fever broke in the night.  

Wild noticed them watching his bouncing knees. He stopped, and caught sight of the river stones in the stream. They were all oblong and somewhat flat. He grinned, and rushed over to them.

Gathering as many as he could carry, he placed on at Legend’s side, just a few feet from the bedroll. He set another just behind it, and tipped the first. It struck the second nad knocked it down. Grinning wider, he set a trail of stones from the Vet’s side toward the edge of camp and around the perimeter. 

Twilight and Sky finished polishing, and chuckled, then brought him more stones. 

The others soon joined in, Wind giving ideas for a path from his perch.

By the time Legend woke up, grimacing at the bright late-afternoon sun, he found an audience of grinning heroes surrounding him.

He scowled, and rubbed his face, feeling for signs of charcoal or paint. 

“Here,” Hyrule took the tea Wild made and crouched beside him. “You’ve been out for three days with a fever, but it broke last night. Here, this will help.”

He sat up and took it gingerly, surprised at the weakness in his own hands.

“What in Din’s name are you all doing over here?” He rasped. 

“We, uh, well, have a surprise for you.” Wild stammered.

“Wild got bored,” Twilight laughed. “Made you something.”

“Did he? Should I be excited, or afraid?” The Vet sipped the tea. 

“It starts behind you,” Time offered, and Legend turned around.

Legend stared at it, and quirked up one eyebrow. 

“Go ahead. Touch it.” Hyrule smiled. 

A trail of stones, barely balancing on their narrow edges, wound from his side and all around the camp, between trees and up and down rises and dips in the forest floor, through a dry creek bed nearby, and circling tightly around the camp, spiraling inward until it ended next to where it began.  

Legend touched it. 

They all watched the trail of rocks topple one after the other. 

Legend’s sleepy grin made it all worth it.

[wachinyeya]

Scientists Buzzing After Unique Native Bee Colonies Discovered Right on Their College Campus https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/scientists-buzzing-after-unique-native-bee-colonies-discovered-right-on-their-college-campus/

“””In a charming coincidence, a pair of bee and insect specialists from Washington College are buzzing with excitement about a unique and newly documented population of native bees right on their very own campus.

Although the large group of ground-nesting bees has been noticeable on one corner of the campus for years, recent identification of at least five different species all using the same area has sparked interest from researchers.

The section of the college green located in front of East and Middle Halls is a hotspot for these vital pollinators, with ground-nesting ‘mining’ bees from the Andrena and Colletes genera thriving on the hill at the base of the halls.

Recently, thanks to her keen eye and love of insects, photographer Pamela Cowart-Rickman realized that the area has multiple species of native mining bees all nesting together, something that has not been well documented.

Cowart-Rickman, who studied biology at WC as an undergrad and developed a love of insects has tentatively identified five different species that are all sharing the same nesting grounds. They include four different Andrena (mining bees), one Colletes (cellophane bees), and likely three cuckoo bees in the genus Nomada.

The Washington College site provides rare nesting habitat for multiple native bee species, several of which are uncommon and unidentified,” said Sam Droege from the US Geological Survey’s Bee Lab.

“We always talk about providing plants to support native bees and other pollinators, but we rarely think about providing adequate nesting habitat for their survival. These native bees provide beneficial pollination to fruiting trees and plants, not only on the College campus, but also the Chestertown community.”

“They have been nesting amongst and on top of each other for several years in this same location,” said Cowart-Rickman of the bees she has spotted. “The various Andrena have the largest nesting area and emerge first in late February. The Colletes have a smaller area and emerge later in late April.”

Cowart-Rickman devotes her free time to photographing insects and has been helping researchers identify and track populations. She has found and documented several species for MD Biodiversity, BugGuide, iNat, and researchers at the Canadian National Collection of Insects.

When she realized what she had stumbled upon right outside her own office building on campus, she reached out to Dr. Beth Choate, deputy director of the Washington College Center for Environment and Society. Choate, who has published research on the abundance of wild bee populations in urban and rural gradients, was also intrigued by the nesting sites Cowart-Rickman had found. The two decided to investigate further.

“On a nice day in the spring, you can see the male bees hovering right at grass level. There were hundreds of these males searching for a female to mate when we were out there,” said Choate.

Females create a small burrow in the ground for rearing young and a ball of pollen and nectar is placed in each to feed the larval bee when it emerges from the egg, Choate explained. Once the males and females mate, the female returns to her nest and lays the egg in the carefully constructed burrow to develop.

“Ground-nesting bees need bare, minimally covered ground in order to dig into the soil. They also prefer sunny and well-drained soil, but it will be interesting to learn what is unique about the soil in this space and why the aggregation has become so large,” said Choate.

“Since ground-nesting bees are solitary and do not form colonies, they generally aren’t as noticeable as this aggregation. Females often create nests near one another; however, an aggregation this large is unique.”

After seeing one of Cowart-Rickman’s nesting bee photos on iNat, and realizing the rarity of the site, Dr. Jordan Kueneman, a researcher with Project GNBee who is working on tracking ground-nesting bees at the Danforth Lab at Cornell University, reached out to Cowart-Rickman about possibly providing further research samples and information.

“We were very excited to learn about the ground-nesting bee aggregations at Washington College, for a myriad of reasons,” said Kueneman. “First, the size of the aggregation is substantial, and multiple species are utilizing areas of the overall site to nest. This scenario is ideal for understanding nesting requirements for bees and how those vary by species.

“Second,” Kueneman continued, “intermixed aggregations of nesting bees are particularly interesting to study from an ecological perspective, as the cost/benefits of varying nesting strategies and behavior can be more easily studied, particularly in the context of phenology, nest architecture, and risk of parasitism.”

He noted that due to its location, the Washington College aggregation can easily provide the opportunity for students and the public to learn about the biology of ground-nesting bees and the value they provide to the environment. He is also hopeful that knowledge of the history of the area and the site’s management can help inform how ground management practices on campus have impacted the population in the past and provide opportunities to explore how current management will impact this population in the future.

Research and monitoring of the aggregation will continue as teams from both schools work together to study what makes this site so appealing to multiple species of bees.

[turtlesandfrogs]

I think my job is actually good for my mental health.

Now, hear me out. I have adhd, and beyond external structure, my job:

Ensures that I get ample & varied physical exercise every work day. There are repetitive tasks, yes, but each day is a new and *different* task, so I've stopped accumulating repetitive motion related injuries. Which is awesome.

Ensures that I get ample outside time, getting both sunlight and contact with many kinds of soil (anyone remember that article about the soil microbe that helps people feel better?)

My coworkers and/or bosses are all neurodivergent in one way or another, and we all get along very well because all of us are intensely interested in native plants, sustainable gardening, permaculture, growing food, etc.

My bosses have worse ADHD than I do, so they're very understanding, and work days are flexible.

It's very low-stress.

Like, I'm technically working full time, but I've just talked them into giving all us workers 4-day work weeks (I did talk to all the employees that aren't bosses first, which is 2 other people to be fair, and we all wanted a 4-day work schedule even with the pay decrease. Because we all have ADHD and full time work burns us out)

My bosses and coworkers are actually good people. That I enjoy talking to. All of them.

I never have to do paper work.

I don't have to talk to clients, unless I want to. I can just tell them, gosh, that's a question for ____.

We are in the biz of creating sustainable landscaping and maintenance, which means sometimes we take out plants for reasons, which means I get a stream of plants that I get to take home. Like, recently it was a lot of Solomon's seal, lavender babies that had self-sown themselves into a path, and a persimmon tree because the client's place was too cool during the summer for it to fruit, while I am in an urban heat island.

We are creating good in the world- creating landscapes that support native species, while minimizing inputs. It's small good, but it's still good.

The biggest down side is that they have now realized that I'm competent, so now I'm working almost completely unsupervised instead of being able to just chill out and follow directions while they're on site working on something else. And I need to talk to them about a rise.

[quietlyimplode]

the language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: Day 9 - Polaroid

Warnings: alluded to child abuse and child neglect but nothing explicit.

Word Count: 1.2k (gif not mine)

Summary: Natasha holds hope for Christmas.

A/N: I wish I had the time to actually think this fic through but it just is what is it coming through. No beta, and a minimal read through. Mistakes are my own; I know.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

.

1994

OHIO

Christmas season seems to put them all on edge.

Alexei leaves and Melina growls at them at clean. It’s nothing new and Natasha doesn’t mind the monotony of cleaning the house.

From where she’s come from, cleaning is almost a luxury to the hits and bruises of hard labour to get her small muscles strong.

Melina even allows music as they do so.

Yelena fiddles with the radio and she gets up and does a dance whilst Natasha cleans around her.

Christmas music plays and Natasha doesn’t quite understand the sentiments behind it.

Melina is tolerant until she isn’t and it’s the variability that sets Natasha on edge.

The week before Christmas, Natasha hears Yelena asks about Santa.

Natasha knows there’s no such thing.

How could there be a magical man in the sky that delivers presents, or answer wishes.

She hears Melinda talk about it, and anger curls low at Yelena’s hope and optimism.

“We get presents?” Yelena asks.

Natasha rolls over.

She doesn’t hear the response.

There’s no way that Melina would get them gifts. Alexei wouldn’t allow it either.

Natasha dreams of a man coming into her room, but this time he leaves gifts of flowers and food.

Candy mostly, but fruit too, it drags her deeper into sleep and for the first time in a long time she sleeps soundly.

.

Boxes sit under a Christmas tree. Natasha eyes them suspiciously at first.

There’s lights set up around it. Not Christmas lights but large stage lights.

Yelena shakes boxes, and Melina tells her not to touch them.

It fills Natasha with hope.

Maybe in the boxes there is toys, maybe there’s some pencils to draw with, candy? maybe a book?

She eyes the boxes carefully, not really believing that’s the case but wanting to believe it with all her heart.

As Christmas crawls closer, her hope grows.

Melina leaves for a couple of days to meet with Alexei and leaves Natasha in charge of Yelena.

It’s peaceful and fun.

They dance and sing and watch the television.

Natasha teaches Yelena some Russian and they have ice cream for dinner.

They sleep in the same bed and Natasha reads to her the books that they have.

Yelena begs her to open the boxes.

It’s the only rule Natasha has.

She desperately wants to, but she wants to preserve the magic of Christmas Day.

Two days pass before Melina returns.

Yelena runs to hug her and Natasha holds back, jealous of her easy trust.

The night before Christmas, Melina makes them dress up.

It sets Natasha on edge.

The last time she had to dress up and stand in front of people, bad things happened.

They’re made to stand in front of the tree and pose, whilst Melina takes pictures.

Natasha flinches every time the flash goes off.

Melina berates her to stay still.

She tries to smile as ordered, but it feels like dread.

“Can we open the presents tomorrow?” Natasha asks, on a whim.

Melina shrugs.

“You can open them now, there’s nothing in them.”

In that moment, Natasha feels her heart break.

She had hope.

She thought….

She doesn’t know what she thought, maybe that someone cared enough about her that they would get her a gift.

Maybe that she was good enough to get one like all the tales of Santa.

She feels tears on her face as the disappointment floods her body.

Santa would never come here.

She is not good.

Backing away, she flees to the bedroom, hides under the bed and sobs quietly to herself.

.

Yelena finds her still under her bed on Christmas Day; a box in her hands.

She holds out her tiny hand and helps Natasha out, her body stuff and sore from being curled up all night.

“It wasn’t real,” Natasha whispers to her, gesturing to the box.

“There’s nothing inside.”

Yelena shakes her head.

“I know, this is from me,” she presents the box to Natasha.

Natasha’s heart skips and she takes the box from her sister.

“Aren’t you disappointed?” she asks, “aren’t you sad?”

Yelena looks up at her legs crossed and shakes her head.

“Santa didn’t come for us,” she sighs, looking to the sky “maybe it’s because we were bad like Alexei tells us we are; or maybe it because he didn’t know we were here. Maybe he thinks we are still in Russia and there’s presents waiting for us there.”

Natasha’s heart sinks further.

There is nothing good in Russia, despite what Melina and Alexei tell Yelena.

“This is for you,” Yelena taps the box.

“I wanted you to have it.”

Natasha opens it.

The picture of them together, side by side faces smiling. The row of four taken when Melina had taken the others to send back to Russia.

“Please don’t show her,” Yelena looks nervous. “I saw that you liked them and I took them for you.”

On a whim, Natasha hugs Yelena, a deep crushing hug that she tries to convey how much the pictures mean.

She hides her tears in her hair and then brings her forehead to Yelena’s. She doesn’t know why, just that it feels right.

“I… I got something for you too,” Natasha whispers, hastily wiping her eyes.

If they see her crying, she knows they’ll make her run laps.

She feels Yelena won’t tell on her.

Taking the little present wrapped in newspaper, from underneath her pillow, she presents it to Yelena.

She swallows hard, wondering if Yelena will understand or if she’s too young.

Yelena opens it carefully, the tiny blue ribbon peaks out and she touches it carefully.

“My mother left it for me,” Natasha whispers.

“It’s the only thing I have of her, and I want you to have it.”

Yelena must understand, because immediately she passes it back.

“I can’t have this,” she says.

Natasha take a breath.

“There was a wet nurse; in the Red Room, she was mean and kind and told me that my mother wanted me and couldn’t keep me. I don’t know if it was the truth. She showed me the things my mother sent with me, it was this and a picture.”

Natasha lifts her bed and pulls out a book, inside the book is the picture.

She shows Yelena.

“This is my mother.”

Yelena takes the picture carefully.

“She’s so pretty.”

Natasha nods.

“The nurse. She said I couldn’t have the the things my mother left me, but showed me where she kept it. Before… before I came here, I took them. I wanted them to be with me, wherever I was. I thought… maybe it was all she had to give. I want them with me.”

Natasha takes back the picture and tucks it carefully into the book, then takes the one that Yelena gave her and places them together.

“I want you to have it, because it’s a part of me.”

Yelena nods but doesn’t really understand.

What she does understand is the sentiment that Natasha is trying to convey, and she feels the pull towards her sister.

“Put it in my hair?”

Natasha smiles and nods.

“Okay.”

Gently she braids her hair, tying the ribbon in so it sits firmly in Yelena’s hair, they hear Melina calling and Natasha touches her arm.

“She can’t know,” Natasha says urgently, “just like the pictures.”

Yelena sees the seriousness and nods.

“I promise,” she nods, and holds out a pinky finger.

Natasha takes it in her own and nods too.

Bringing her in for another hug, she feels Yelena’s little hands pull her close.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and kisses the top of her head.

.

[female-eren]

vegan radfems are so annoying I literally do not care

I like that vegans exist. I can also in some cases see the connection to feminism and the treatment of women/female animals as a whole (chauvinist attitudes around meat eating being correlated with misogyny, and how we create constant reproduction in farm animals in a way that is terrible for their bodies), although I don't really think that animal rights is a question for feminism to solve or focus on, rather maybe animal activist sub groups. I've been vegetarian for long periods (several years at a time) and cook vegan meals from time to time. But I can't seem to feel full when I don't eat any meat or fish so I ended up eating way more bread/sugar and gaining weight, and I've also developed some deficiencies (iron, primarily). I know you can avoid a lot of deficiencies even on a vegan diet, but it takes a lot more work and energy.

What I don't like is the aggression and immediate defensiveness. And I don't like the argument that some humans are braindead or have developmental disabilities and if we eat animals because they're "dumber" then nothing should stop us from eating those humans. Because if your point is "we can't eat living beings even if they don't have human intelligence" then what is actually okay to eat? I don't like being met with aggressive and extremely ridiculous arguments like that. And I know it's been said a million times in bad faith, but honestly, why is eating plants okay? We know that plants react to stimuli like light and resources like water, and we also know that many species of plants also react to being damaged. Trees warn each other with stress signals when they're "injured", so is pruning and cutting fruit trees okay just because we can't see these signals of stress without sophisticated technology? How come? If the argument against mine is that we don't kill and eat disabled people even if they're developmentally on the cognitive level of a child or even an animal (for example, pigs are generally thought to have the intelligence level of a 4 year old child), then where is the cutoff? Plants don't have central nervous systems, is that the cutoff? Can we farm and eat insects? Both of these options still have some kind of survival instinct. What makes them okay to eat?

The people who say these things aren't jainists even if they're vegan. I don't like it when vegans make the point that meat eaters are simply making emotional arguments like "I want to keep eating meat because it tastes good" when SOME amount of farming and killing is fine and necessary to vegans too. We're learning new things about animals AND plants every day. Some plants like certain species of fungi even seem to have some sort of reasoning and strategy in their patterns of growth. The arguments for eating plants are also emotional because you need to eat something to survive. What I think is a strong argument is the minimization of suffering, because those stress signals simply aren't as important as the much more obvious and material suffering of mass factory farmed animals. And also minimizing detrimental environmental effects. But that argument requires differentiation between sufferings. You have to recognize, confess almost, that some suffering is worse than other kinds. Which was my point from the beginning, a human can be cognitively aware of certain things in a way that creates terror that simply isn't present in another creature in the same way, which is why I don't think targetting those specific emotions/thoughts in an audience is the smartest idea depending on your goal.

My point has always been that the act of eating in itself can't be unethical. Eating is not morally wrong. We as a species evolved to be omnivores, so it's not unnatural or unethical to eat meat in itself. Many species are predatory. I will never be convinced that meat eating in itself is morally reprehensible. What I think is bad about the meat industry has to do with the treatment of the animals, and the effect such farming has on the environment, and the public health issue of too much meat consumption.

[chronicallycouchbound]

Unhoused Solidarity In Action

This is a non-exhaustive list of resources you might have access to, or know of, that can be used to aid unhoused community members directly. Many of these focus on direct mutual aid as individuals but can be helpful to consider when in community organizing settings. - What do you (or someone you know) have access to, that you can provide to the community? - Can they be accessed, used, or provided: regularly, occasionally, only in emergencies, weekly, daily, sporadically, consistently, etc.? - Consider seasonal needs (winter coats don’t help us when it’s 90 degrees out!) - Remember to practice active, informed consent with individuals and ask if these would be helpful! Don’t take it personally if your offer isn’t helpful to someone, it might help someone else. - These should be realistic and not compromise your safety or well-being. Remember to prioritize safety over comfort.

Housing

- Consider your relationship with this person (generally, don’t offer complete strangers into your home)

- Location matters a lot. Unhoused people often need to be near “hubs”/cities, close to resources and systems of care.

- Some people can’t live in hotels, couch surf, or any of these options without losing their housing vouchers, and in some cases health insurance or other assistance programs. Legal definitions of homelessness (used by voucher programs) usually don’t include people living in hotels/motels, or couch surfing (including most of these options). Check with the individual to see if this might be helpful.

Extra bedrooms

Campers, trailers

Couches

Apartments

Land/yards to camp on, park at, etc.

Donate funds or points for a hotel room

Shelters

Floor space

Safe parking lots to sleep in your car in (sleeping in your car is considered legal homelessness in most places)

Time

- Emotional capacity and minimizing the risk of burnout are important here especially

Do outreach with a community org

File for grants

Provide education materials

Share knowledge regarding resources

Emotional support - build genuine connections with your local unhoused neighbors

Reach out to companies for donations

Create or add to lists of resources, open bathrooms, etc.

Transportation

- One of the biggest barriers to accessing existing resources is transportation (also mailing addresses, internet access, and active phone service)

Personal car, ride-sharing/carpooling

Bus tickets/passes

Old/not frequently used bikes

Taxi services/vouchers

Uber/Lift gift cards

Carpooling

Coordinate rides for people

Food

- A lot of unhoused people prefer “comfort foods” to “health foods” - Ask about dietary restrictions, the cooking ability of the unhoused person, the cooking equipment, etc. - Soft foods are frequently more accessible to us as dental issues are very common - 100$ in fast food is significantly less than 100$ in homemade food

Can cook hot meals

Can pay for meals

Knows someone (person, business) who can supply food

Inviting people over for a meal

Gifting food (be sure to be considerate of dietary restrictions, cooking ability, equipment needed to cook, etc.)

Have a community dunkin gift card

Make or add to a fruit tree map (fallingfruit.org, community gardens, federal university campuses)

Money

- Money should be freely given, with no strings attached - Ask what form works best for them— cash apps/virtual, physical cash, gift cards, quarters, etc.

It is best to provide cash donations directly to impacted individuals (or organizations) with no strings attached

Provide relevant, local chain store gift cards (Grocery stores, coffee shops, restaurants)

Coordinate fundraisers

Apply for grants

Supplies

- Ask individuals what they need most!

Purchase and donate supplies directly to individuals or organizations

Reach out to businesses

Donate old phones or computers

Add someone to your family phone plan

Donate professional clothes for interviews

Donate an outfit you would actually wear

Talents, Trades, Skills

Your hobbies might be helpful! Crochet is extremely trendy right now (easy to learn, you could make hats/scarves for community members)!

Professional ties/experience Examples: You’re a cosmetologist who can do free haircuts for an hour each week, or you’re a graphic designer who can create a website for an organization for free, or you’re a nurse who can provide wound care to encampments

Community gardens

Connect with and partner with non-profits or community-based organizations in your area (or help start one if there’s none!)

Allow people to use you as a reference for job interviews

Bathrooms

- Not just toilets, but showers and mirrors are important too

Ask businesses to pledge to have open, public, accessible, and free restrooms

Your personal restroom

Make a list of local public restrooms

Free gym memberships or add someone to a gym plan

Services

- In order to access most services, you need most, if not all, of the following: transportation, identification, important paperwork, printing/faxing access, mailing addresses, internet access, active phone service, free time during business hours, and emotional and mental ability (and capacity) to complete everything required (forms, applications, phone calls, interviews, annual reviews, verifications) in a timely manner (usually on a strict deadline)

Case management experience you can volunteer

Peer support for service navigation (great option for people with prior lived experience)

Advocacy within services

Offer to provide a P.O. box or use your address to receive mail

Housing skills

Allow someone to use your library card for books, computers, the internet, etc. (most libraries won’t allow unhoused people to get a library card)

Volunteer at a shelter

Allow someone to use your home wifi, printer, phone number, mailbox, email, etc.

Fundraising

- If you can’t donate your own personal funds, fundraising is a great way to help out

Community mutual aid asks (in person or online)

Art walks

Skate competition

Concerts

Tip jar

Gift basket raffle

Clothing and food drive

Game tourney

Live streams

Start a GoFundMe for individuals/orgs

I strongly encourage you to look over the matching slides I created for this workshop: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1VDngImsMByUFmKX611zAJ43a0UcYIfMBxrbh_g1IJvc/edit

As a disclaimer: I have been homeless/unhoused for over half of my life. My experiences of homelessness have included while being a infant, toddler, young child, preteen, teenager, and young adult. I am 24 years old. My most recent experience of being unhoused was last year, and I am currently precariously housed (meaning: at high risk of losing housing again). My experiences of homelessness have included sleeping outside in a tent, sleeping on park benches and under freeways, walking around all night to avoid hypothermia and freezing to death (something that has happened to several of my friends), couch surfing, sleeping in cars, squatting, sleeping in motels, living in a shelter, and institutionalized. I have been homeless with family a few times during early childhood and again when I was 15. All of my other experiences of homelessness have been on my own starting at age 9 or 10, and the last time I lived with a parent I was 16. I have been homeless in both rural and urban areas. I have been homeless in New England/Northeast United States as well as the Pacific Northwest.

In addition to this, I have many contributing factors to my experience, including being disabled, a person of color, trans, queer, a survivor of child abuse and CSA, being trafficked, and a drug user and a SWer, amongst other marginalized experiences.

That being said: my experience of being unhoused/homeless is not the universal experience. While I know many people of all different demographics who I’ve met on the streets, I cannot speak to every single person’s experiences. I especially cannot speak to experiences outside of the United States, aside from what I hear secondhand.

This is meant to serve as a general guide to accompany a workshop I created, and might not be helpful for everyone. If it’s not helpful, I hope it inspires others to offer creative solutions. I’m always working on expanding this list. Thank you for reading.