Mission-Foods

What to do if you suddenly find yourself homeless

FOOD

  • Find your nearest food bank or mission, for food
  • grocery stores with free samples, bakeries + stores with day-old bread
  • different fast food outlets have cheaper food and will generally let you hang out for a while.
  • some dollar stores carry food like cans of beans or fruit


SHELTER

  • Sleeping at beaches during the day is a good way to avoid suspicion and harassment
  • sleep with your bag strapped to you, so someone can’t steal it
  • Some churches offer short term residence
  • Find your nearest homeless shelter
  • Look for places that are open to the public
  • A large dumpster near a wall can often be moved so that flipping up the lids creates an angled shelter to stay dry


HYGIENE

  • A membership to the YMCA is usually only 10$, which has a shower, and sometimes laundry machines and lockers.
  • Public libraries have bathrooms you can use
  • Dollar stores carry low-end soaps and deodorant etc.
  • Wet wipes are all purpose and a life saver
  • Local beaches, go for a quick swim
  • Some truck stops have showers you can pay for
  • Staying clean is the best way to prevent disease, and potentially get a job to get back on your feet
  • Pack 7 pairs of socks/undies, 2 outfits, and one hooded rain jacket


OTHER

  • first aid kit
  •  sunscreen
  •  a travel alarm clock or watch
  •  mylar emergency blanket
  •  a backpack is a must
  •  downgrade your cellphone to a pay as you go with top-up cards
  •  sleeping bag
  •  travel kit of toothbrush, hair brush/comb, mirror
  •  swiss army knife
  •  can opener
4

ICYMI: Angela Dimayuga is the queer executive chef of Mission Chinese Food. She recently received a request to be featured on IvankaTrump.com, a “non-political platform of empowerment for modern working women.” (Okay.)

Here’s the badass way she responded. Full text:

Hi Adi,

Thank you for thinking of me. I’m glad you are a fan of my work so much that you want to provide more visibility for my career to inspire “other working women.” However, I’m for women who actually empower other women.

I don’t believe that IvankaTrump.com is truly “a non-political platform of empowerment for [women]”. So long as the name Trump is involved, it is political and frankly, an option for the IvankaTrump.com business to make a profit.

I don’t see anything empowering about defunding Planned Parenthood, barring asylum from women refugees, rolling back safeguards for equal pay, and treating POC/LGBT and the communities that support these groups like second class citizens.

As a queer person of color and daughter of immigrant parents I am not interested in being profiled as an aspirational figure for those that support a brand and a President that slyly disparages female empowerment. Sharing my story with a brand and family that silences our same voices is futile.

Thank you for the consideration.

Oh, HELL yes. (via the Huffington Post)

5

Here’s a classic big city dilemma (sorry suburban folks): It’s late at night, the weather is bad, and you’re hungry. Your favorite restaurant is less than a mile away, but you don’t want to leave the house, and you don’t want to pay a $5 delivery fee — plus tip — for a $10 meal.

So, what do you do?

Back in the old days, you would have braved the elements — or learned to plan ahead. But those days are coming to an end, at least in Washington, D.C.

A fleet of about 20 autonomous, knee-high robots recently has appeared on the sidewalks of the nation’s capital, and they’re out to revolutionize hyper-local delivery in big cities. Their mission? Bring takeout food from restaurants to hungry customers at home — while keeping the delivery cost to around a dollar.

Hungry? Call Your Neighborhood Delivery Robot

Photos by Meg Kelly/NPR

kylux fic recs

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

EMPEROR HUX:

BEN SOLO SWAYED BY THE FIRST ORDER AU:

LIGHT SIDE AU:

FORCE SENSITIVE HUX:

HUMAN AU:

PRE/POST THE FORCE AWAKENS:

SOUTHERN GOTHIC:

AU’S:

fic descriptions in alphabetical order below the cut - 

Keep reading

Son of Haggar part 3

Shiro watched his team with tired eyes. He haven’t had that much sleep. Lance wasn’t there. It felt lonely, and quiet. Without Lance, it was hard for the team to even relax. Lance only came out, for missions, to get food, and training. He wore sunglasses and a winter hat.

Lance just wanted to be alone. It hurt..

Shiro decide to head over to Lance’s room, hoping maybe if Lance talked to him. Maybe he’s homesick, or having his insecurities. Shiro took a deep breath as he stands infront of Lance’s door.

1 knock

Silence

2 knocks

Silence

Shiro though was determined to talk to Lance, Shiro was lucky enough to know how to unlock the biolock from Pidge. And walked into the dark room, only the pale blue light shine the room. Shiro spotted Lance, or Lance cover in his blanket. He could hear the slow and soft breathing patterns of sleep coming from Lance. Shiro couldn’t help but feel sadness wash over.

He walked over to the sleeping Lance, and slowly pulled the covers. His eyes widened as he stared at the peaceful sleeping Lance. His ears were longer, altean like. He had… he seen those altean marks before.. from Haggar. But they were a dark blue.

Lance slowly opened his eyes, they fluttered for a moment. As Lance looked up at Shiro, his eyes weren’t the same. The black pupil was replaced by a pale blue pupil.

Lance’s beach ocean eyes widened with fear, tears were crawling they’re way out. He quickly sat up as he pulled the blanket over himself, hiding himself.

“Don’t look!” He shouted. It was shaky, Shiro could hear him crying just by his voice. Shiro felt guilt wash over him, he must of given Lance the look of terror.

“Lance..” He slowly pulled the cover off of Lance. His ears were down and eyes shut, and tears were falling off. Shiro with his galra arm wiped away those beautiful tears. “Lance, look at me. Please.” Lance opened is eyes and looked up at him. Shiro couldn’t help smile at him softly, with those eyes. He couldn’t hate him, he loved him to much.

“I’m a monster… I’m ugly.. I don’t want to be like her!” He cried as he gripped the grey sheet. Shiro sadden as he pulled Lance into a warm hug. Lance cried harder onto Shiro, repeating those words over. Shiro couldn’t help but glare, thinking of what Haggar said or even done to him.

Shiro pulled Lance’s face to look at him, again with his galra hand wiped the tears away. Lance slowly calmed down as he looked into the grey stormy eyes.

“Your not a monster. Your still our paladin. My- Our heart of Voltron.” Shiro paused but went on.

“You beautiful Lance.”

Lance blushed and smile softly, “Thank you Shiro..” he looked down and whispered, as if it was a secret not to be told by anyone. “Will you stay with me?…” Shiro smiled softly and nodded, and laid down with Lance. Holding him close, Lance gripped his vest. Shiro closed his eyes, sleeping soundly with dreams of both him and Lance at the beach.

Shiro couldn’t help but wanting to protect Lance more, from her.

Part 1 -> https://bijellyfishy.tumblr.com/post/161494201907/the-son-of-haggar-part-1

Concept: Mika used to leave things for the livestock children when he was in Sanguinem in between missions.

Not food, because he has no reason to eat, so being caught would incite suspicion. But other stuff- old clothes, blankets, colourful books, essential supplies. Maybe, to prevent vampires from thinking the kids stole stuff from them, he’d tear up some of the blankets then stitch them roughly back together so it looks like something they might have made. I mean, the vampires have way too much stuff anyways, right? He’d sneak out the backways of the castle and into the depths of the human district to hide them where people would find them, then he would work detours into his patrols to make sure that they took them. Maybe he’d get a few odd looks from vampires who saw him toting around some of the items, but they’d probably shrug it off, since Mika was always a bit of a weirdo.

Of course, none of the kids actually knew it was him, because he always made sure nobody saw him so he wouldn’t scare them, or so his old neighbors would reconize him and be horrified by what had happened to him. But maybe he would see some kids with fresher clothes and thicker blankets, and it would make his day a bit better, even if only a little.

Baby Makes Four

Imagine the boys learning that you are expecting.

Relationship: Lovers

Fandom: DC Comics

Character: Roy and Jason

You sat in an examining room waiting for the doctor to come back. You felt a buzz in your pocket and pulled out your cell to see you had gotten a text from Jason asking where you were. You told him the doctor and nothing more, as another text from Jason came through as the doctor walked into the room. You quickly shoved your phone in your pocket and as the doctor started to talk


The talk was short as he handed you the results of the medical test you had him take on you. You sigh as your folded the paper and put it in your purse before heading out of the office. You tried to rack your mind on how to tell both Jason and Roy. You had only gotten back into your hero work a few months again and this was most definitely going to stop all of it. As you got into the car you pulled out your phone to check your text. Both Jason and Roy had sent text after text asking if you were ok. You smiled lightly at the text as you sent back that you were fine and you were going to get takeout for dinner since there was no food in the house.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

sick shiro? hell yes. maybe hunk made some space food that actually tastes like something that Shiro really liked at earth so he stuffs his face with it and he realizes too late that this stuffs makes him really nauseous...end off the story Shiro is just really stuffed and nauseous because it really doesn't agree with him and hunk feeling bad tries to comfort and take care of him?

A/N: @bosstoaster for the Shiro hunger headcanons. Plus, I love this pairing, okay?

As the team’s unofficial chef, Hunk is very aware of everyone’s individual eating habits; likes, dislikes, specific allergies, and so forth.

For instance, he knows that Lance won’t touch anything that even remotely resembles a brussels sprout with a twelve-foot pole. He knows Pidge has a quirk about different foods interacting on the same plate; everything has to have its separate, designated space. Keith has to be coaxed, (sometimes forced), into eating even a little breakfast and he blatantly refuses food when he’s anxious before missions.

It took Hunk a little longer with Shiro. The night they had rescued him from the compound he hadn’t realized the extent of the damage; he’d assumed the poor guy was still suffering nasty side effects as a result of being drugged, not to mention starved for over a year.

Hunk had whipped up an impromptu dinner for everyone in Keith’s little shack, taking solace in the comforting sense of control the process of stirring, chopping, and searing had allotted, if only for a fleeting couple of hours.

Long after everyone else had cleaned their plates, Shiro had continued to eat. He’d mechanically shoveled food into his mouth like a ravenous robot, oblivious to his companion’s bafflement. At the time, Hunk hadn’t understood; hadn’t really thought anything of it. He’d seemed hungry, so Hunk had continued to feed him. And Shiro had kept eating. It was the grim concentration that had really freaked Hunk out. Shiro hadn’t enjoyed the food, either. In hindsight, Hunk realized his objective had been to inhale every scrap of nourishment as quickly as possible. He’d quite literally eaten himself sick.

Halfway through his fourth bowl of stew, Shiro had abruptly spun away from the table and vomited it all back up onto the floor, nearly giving Keith a heart attack.

Shiro never talked about his year in captivity. But Hunk was willing to bet his ass that food - if you could call it that - had been scarce and Shiro had been forced to fight for every morsel. He also guessed that prisoners were never fed regularly or sufficiently. Hunk had no idea if humans were even meant to ingest whatever the Galra considered food. It couldn’t have been especially pleasant. He couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to eat for the sole purpose of fighting to stay alive, not knowing when or if you’d ever be fed again. It made his chest ache when he thought about Shiro trapped in such a monstrous hell.

Shiro’s brain had undoubtedly been conditioned to consume every bite of whatever he was given, solely fueled by the most basic human instinct: survival.

Since they’d all been tossed together, Hunk’s taken it upon himself to meticulously monitor Shiro’s meals. The man has absolutely no concept of hunger or the parameters those triggers entail. Essentially, it boils down to making Shiro eat and then ensuring Shiro stops if he’s distracted. Hunk isn’t positive Shiro is ever going to be able to enjoy food like a normal person ever again. That realization makes him incredibly sad.

One of Hunk’s favorite pastimes is cooking for the team, (when Coran hasn’t beaten him to it). He’s grown exceptionally skilled at experimenting with the various foreign ingredients and creating dishes that taste nearly identical to some of his favorite foods back on Earth.

Still, he’s never seen Shiro actually enjoy a meal. Sure, their leader enjoys the company, the camaraderie and routine of sitting down to do something so mundane and familiar in the midst of their crazy lives. But from what Hunk can deduce, Shiro eats because he knows his body requires the nutrients and energy in order to function properly, not because he relishes the flavors or textures of whatever’s placed in front of him.

So the night he makes something vaguely similar to chicken spaghetti, (it’d been a rough mission; Hunk needed comfort food), and presents it to the group, he isn’t surprised when everyone digs in. What does surprise him is Shiro’s reaction after his first bite.

Oh,” Shiro pulls back for a moment, chewing slowly and giving a curious tilt of his head. He swallows, a strange smile playing at the corners of his lips. “This is…”

“Oh,” Hunk echoes, disappointment weighing heavily as his shoulders droop. “You don’t like it.”

Shiro shakes his head, “No, I…this is really good. It tastes like…I don’t know. Something my mom used to make, I think.”

Shiro’s never bothered mentioning his family. The comment sends Hunk sputtering while the other paladins gape at Shiro, noisy sounds of chewing abruptly halting as forks poise listlessly in the air.

“I, uh,” Hunk stammers, still taken aback by Shiro’s compliment. “I was going for chicken spaghetti?”

“Yeah,” Shiro hums after a thoughtful moment before digging into his meal with renewed enthusiasm. “That’s it. That’s what she used to make.”

Shiro moans around another mouthful, closing his eyes as he swallows. “Hunk, this is incredible. I don’t know how you do it.”

Hunk beams with the praise, smiling from ear-to-ear as he watches Shiro reach for the serving bowl to ladle out another helping. He’s eating with gusto, relishing every bite.

“Well, it’s not exactly spaghetti, but I guess it had the general shape,” Hunk chuckles, swirling a bite around his own fork. “So I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s awesome, Hunk,” Lance agrees, cheeks ballooning as he struggles to speak through an obscene amount of…space spaghetti?

Shiro nods, barely pausing to breathe as he practically inhales his second plate.

Pidge and Keith contribute their own compliments, quickly finishing their portions and heading to the showers to wash off the day’s grime. Lance lets out an unapologetic, thoroughly satisfied belch before announcing he’s wiped.

“You want some help?” Lance offers lazily, slurring around a sleepy yawn.

Hunk rolls his eyes, “No, no. I’ve got it. You’d only screw up my system, anyway. Yes, there is a system, Lance.” He begins gathering up the empty plates, feeling the grueling exhaustion beginning to take its toll. That’s when he notices that Shiro hasn’t moved. Come to think of it, he hasn’t moved for a good five minutes.

The older boy is hunched over the table, head bowed, arms braced against the surface and hands clenched into tight fists. His eyes are squeezed shut, upper body swaying gently as his throat works with convulsive swallows.

“Shiro?” Hunk frowns, crossing over to place a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Shiro jerks upright, blinking at Hunk with hazy, unfocused eyes as his throat bobs with another thick swallow. He’s alarmingly pale, skin clammy with sweat and hair matted to his forehead.

“Yeah,” he pants, tongue slowly licking over his upper lip. “‘M fine. Jus’…just tired.” His slurred words end with an audible shudder that visibly ripples down his spine. His hand strays to hover over his abdomen, lips parting to pant softly as he struggles to stand.

“You sure?” Hunk glares skeptically, keeping his hand on Shiro’s shoulder as he rises. “‘Cause you look kind of -“

Hunk is abruptly cut off by an odd gurgling sound. Shiro’s eyes widen as he frantically presses a fist to his mouth. A wet burp rumbles in his throat, causing his chest to jolt.

Hunk takes an involuntary step back as Shiro cringes, suppressing another deep belch. “Um, Shiro?”

“E-excuse me, I -” Shiro blushes furiously, hand rubbing over his stomach as he takes a few steps away from Hunk. “My stomach feels…sorry. I don’t know what’s -“ he cuts himself off with another gurgly burp, cupping a hand firmly over his mouth before stumbling away from the mess-hall, breaking into an awkward jog. “I’ve..gotta go.”

Baffled, Hunk really has no choice but to follow. Something is seriously wrong and he has the sinking suspicion that it’s his fault.

He catches up easily. Shiro’s hunched over in the hallway, one arm gripping abusively around his stomach and the other bracing his weight against the wall. He’s panting, broad frame jerking with sharp hiccups that he’s obviously desperate to stifle.

Hunk can’t help resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Shiro flinches, but doesn’t push him off, just curls in harder on himself.

“You’re sick,” Hunk says matter-of-factly, leaving little room for argument. “You should have said something.”

“I’m not -“ a muffled retch interrupts his protest. Shiro presses his fist against his mouth so hard Hunk’s afraid he’s going to crack his jawbone. “I’m just…so full. I can’t remember ever feeling so…oh, my stomach -“ Shiro’s voice catches on another hiccup and Hunk braces his palm against the other man’s chest, attempting to steady him.

“I know,” he says, voice gentle. “Don’t worry. You’re okay. It was just a little too much, I guess.”

Shiro grunts, trying to detangle himself from Hunk’s grip as another violent gag erupts from his throat. He staggers into the shared bathroom, knees bruising against the floor as he drapes himself over the toilet. He clenches the edges of the bowl, legs writhing as he struggles to regain control of his rebelling body.

“What the hell is - ulp - wrong with me?” Shiro demands, shoulders shuddering brutally as saliva drips over his bottom lip.

Despite his own mounting nausea, Hunk squats down behind the older boy, placing a warm hand against the center of his back. He begins rubbing slow, methodic circles, hoping to help in one way or another. He has no idea what he’s doing, but Shiro isn’t pulling away, so it must be all right.

“Your body isn’t used to so much,” Hunk reasons, wincing sympathetically as Shiro convulses wretchedly at the mention of food. It’s true; he hasn’t seen Shiro eat that much since their first encounter and he feels awful for allowing it to go so far. “I think you may have overdone it a little. I’m sorry. I should have -“

“Don’t be,” Shiro gags, spitting uselessly into the bowl. “Wasn’t your - urp - fault.”

Of course it wasn’t. Nothing is ever anyone’s fault but Shiro’s. Goddammit.

Hunk takes a deep breath through his nose, wrapping his arms in a sturdy embrace around Shiro’s waist as he muffles the shaky words, “Yes it was. Don’t be such a fucking hero.”

It’s angry and stupid and selfish but it gets Shiro’s attention.

Shiro glances up from the bowl, eyes momentarily softening as he regards his friend.

“Hunk,” Shiro barely manages to choke out the name before he’s curling forward with a full-bodied heave, burping up a stream of brown bile. Hunk winces, automatically increasing the pressure of his hand against Shiro’s back. His other unconsciously presses against Shiro’s contracting stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Hunk reassures, tightening his grip as he feels the other boy’s determination waver, muscles bunching and coiling in desperate anticipation. “I’ve got you.”

Hunk feels like his insides are disintegrating when Shiro’s self-control finally gives out, sending him lurching over the bowl with a belching gag that results in a flood of pre-digested liquid spewing from his mouth. Shiro coughs and wheezes, desperate for a breath of air as crippling waves of nausea threaten to suffocate him.

“Take it easy,” Hunk coaches. His nose brushes weakly against Shiro’s right shoulder blade as the older boy hiccups pitifully, grasping onto the supporting arm that Hunk’s encircled around his waist. “Breathe.”

Shiro tries to follow the order and ends up retching, another harsh belch ushering up a watery flood of sick. He slumps over the toilet, panting raggedly as the fit eventually wears off.

Hunk is kind of freaking out. It’s almost as bad as the first time it happened. Except this time, he knows it’s his fault.

Shiro coughs, tainted drool dribbling languidly over his bottom lip as he struggles to regain some semblance of control over his own body. Then his hand strays to Hunk’s, long fingers brushing against his skin.

“Hunk,” he slurs, voice breathless. “Wasn’t you. Stop…stop thinkin’ so hard.”

“W-what?” Hunk stammers, voice catching.

“I can hear you,” Shiro chuckles, a little deliriously as he slumps against Hunk’s chest. “So loud.”

“Well, stop it,” Hunk demands, readjusting Shiro’s weight against him. “It’s weird, okay? Reading people’s thoughts isn’t normal.”

Shiro simply nods, offering a woozy smile as he goes limp against Hunk’s chest, exhaustion sluicing through his body. He slides down onto Hunk’s thigh, nuzzling contentedly as his labored breathing evens out.

“Ah, geez,” Hunk groans. In spite of his initial irritation at being reduced to a human pillow, Hunk continues to drag his fingers over Shiro’s back, humming soothing sounds whenever he stirs.

“You’re all right,” he whispers when Shiro whimpers softly in his sleep. “You’re gonna be all right.”

Kuelap, Peru - The Ancient Cloud Fortress of the Amazonas

The fortress of Kuelap is a walled city associated with the Chachapoyas culture built in 6th century AD. It consists of more than four hundred buildings surrounded by massive exterior stone walls. The complex is situated on a ridge overlooking the Utcubamba Valley in northern Peru at 3000 metres above sea level, judging from its sheer size, Kuelap’s construction required considerable effort, rivaling or surpassing in size other archaeological structures in the Americas. The structure is almost 600 metres in length and its walls rise up to 19 metres in height. There are multiple levels or platforms within the complex. Because of its extension, these flat elevations support about 400 constructions, most of them cylindrical. It could have been built to defend against the Huari or others, but evidence of hostile groups at the site is minimal.
Radiocarbon dating samples show that construction of the structures started in the 6th century AD and the complex was occupied until the Early Colonial period (1532-1570). Through the pre-Columbian, conquest and colonial periods, there are only four brief written references to Kuelap.
It was rediscovered in 1843, when Juan Crisóstomo Nieto, a judge in Chachapoyas, made a survey of the area and took note of Kuelap’s great size; he was guided by villagers who had known of the site for generations. Subsequently, Kuelap gained the attention of explorers, historians and archaeologists.
Regarding the function of Kuelap, there is not a scholarly consensus. Popularly it is thought of as a “fortress”, because of its location and the high walls which support its primary level. Adolf Bandelier and especially Louis Langlois tried to demonstrate that Kuelap might have been a fortified place destined to serve as a refuge for the population in emergency situations. They attributed to it, probably by analogy, the same function as medieval European boroughs.
The high walls that cover the outer surfaces of the platform, and the tightness of the access to the citadel in its final stretch, suggest that the monument of Kuelap could be constructed as having a defensive character, or at least that it provided a refuge that was protected against intruders. It likely also had religious or sacred function.
This way, taking into consideration the function served by the monumental architecture in the Peruvian archaeological past in general, the same one that was related to the socioeconomic needs, it can be concluded that Kuelap could be basically a pre-Inca sanctuary. A powerful aristocracy lived in it, whose primary mission was to administer food production and provide religious leadership. [x]

The only acceptable use for chopped/powdered tea leaves (+bonus)

Q wakes, sore in the most gorgeous way.  His ear feels bent from resting on Bond’s shoulder all night; the fingerprint-shaped bruises on his hips call the press of his own against their shape.  Bond is snoring, and that in itself is flattering: Bond–James–sprawled like a starfish in the bed, so unconcerned for his own safety.  There are weapons within a hand’s range of the bed, he’s sure, but Bond’s palms lay curled where Q’s head had been, draped over the dent left by Q’s hip in the feather coverlet.  Q staggers on coltish legs just this side of achy–they burn in the pleasant memory of stretching just a bit past their limit as Bond held him open and–a delicious shiver works its way through him.

Bond’s kitchen is spartan.  There’s not a lot beyond the staples in the fridge–a little cream for coffee, cocktail onions–and the cabinets are nearly bare, as well.  A sad box of Twinings and sugar, some flour and the usual spices; there’s butter and eggs on the counter, and Q’s not surprised to find takeaway menus in the drawer by the fridge.  A thought occurs–grabbing the necessaries, it’s a matter of moments to whip up a treat, and scarcely ten minutes later he’s sneaking back into bed.  Cooking can happen later.

–The Recipe–

Tea Shortbreads

  • 4 tea bags or 2T tea, any flavour (Earl Grey is good, as are chais and other strongly-flavoured black teas)
  • 250g or 2 c plain flour
  • large pinch of salt
  • 60g or 1/3 c sugar
  • 225g or 1 c butter
  • orange zest, vanilla, or other flavourings to complement your tea, if desired
  1. Mix tea, flour, and salt with a whisk or sift together.
  2. Mix butter, sugar, and flavoring with a whisk or electric mixer until light and airy
  3. Add dry ingredients to wet and fold until just combined
  4. Portion dough into logs and wrap with baking paper or wax paper.  Freeze until firm.
  5. Preheat oven to 176 C or 350 F 
  6. Slice into disks .5 cm or ¼ in.
  7. Bake until just barely golden at the edges (about 12-15 minutes)
  8. Let cool completely before removing from the pan or they will crumble

The bed is still warm when Bond wakes, for all that he’s alone in it.  In the other room–probably the kitchen, Bond presumes–he can hear Q pottering about, humming tunelessly, and yes, the kettle Bond has more because he’s British than out of any particularly keen like for tea is burbling away.  There’s a rich, nutty smell in the air, and when he finally manages to get his pants on and wander out, the Waitrose bag on the counter belies the cheeky nymph wearing nothing but an apron.  There are tomatoes on the cutting board and sausages waiting patiently for frying, corners of toast standing dripping golden butter, and a veritable mountain of little biscuit coins that smell rich and buttery and sharp with bergamot.

“You’ve been busy this morning,” Bond says, and Q’s laugh is bright.

“Your cabinets looked like a uni student’s.  I was surprised not to find curry beanz and cup noodle,” Q scolds with sparkling eyes.

“Are you looking to fatten me up?”  Bond grins, snagging a tomato slice and popping it into his mouth before Q can threaten him with his paring knife.  Q snorts.

“Who says you’re getting any of it, you lieabed?  I’ve already been to the shops and back and you’re only now getting up at the crack of ten!”

Bond’s laugh stirs the curls at the nape of Q’s neck as he wraps himself around him.  Q is a lithe furnace against Bond’s front; he goes for another tomato and Q sighs, put upon.  “Let me spoil you, then–I’ll take it from here.”

It’s a favourite, something he always has at hand.  It’s after-mission food for when he’s looking for familiar, for cozy.  He’s never had someone over in the morning to make it for–a frission of something that hasn’t shaped itself yet dances up his spine and Bond coughs, fetching out the saucepan and turning on the hob before he can do something ridiculous like asking Q to stay for breakfast tomorrow, too.

He could do this in his sleep: a knob of butter, chilled from the fridge, and Bond casts a gimlet eye at Q for using the whole dish from the counter, though honestly it doesn’t matter whether it’s soft or not.  He drops the butter into the saucepan to melt and checks again the heat is set to low.  Then eggs: two for each of them, whole in the pot.  He beats them into the butter and when they’re starting to thicken, he pulls the pot from the stove to even out the lumps.  Back onto the hob, he stirs until it curdles, lumps of scrambled egg forming beneath his spatula.  Off the heat again, then when it’s even and creamy again, back on.  He does this again until the egg is cooked through, then just a splash of cream–back on the hob until the chill is off–and salt, pepper.  He dishes it up with a flair.

He ends up watching with bated breath as Q takes his first bite, grinning helplessly at the groan that follows.  It’s breakfast.  Just breakfast: eggs and tomatoes and toast and tea.

It’s still somehow more than breakfast.  Bond wipes a stray smear of egg from Q’s lip and Q smiles.

anonymous asked:

some random hcs for my favourite bamf? ._. can be anything, fluff, angst, just straight up comedy, idc. i just wanna read some more about that cowboy tbh. love you guys T-T (i totally understand admin macaree, that flirting is not pitiful at all :p)

Awww, we love you too, Anon! We went with some domestic headcanons for this one because Admin Macaree has been wanting to do these for a long time! We hope you enjoy these. Have a great day everyone! :D

Also, I’d like to apologize for the lack of updates real quick. My old friends depression and anxiety have decided to pay me a visit again and they don’t really get along with my other friend motivation. I hope I’ll be able to write more the next days! 
~ Admin Moronison


  • The two of you never really worked out a proper plan for the chores. No one does them regularly but every now and then you realize something has to be done. When that happens, you usually take care of these tasks together. However, the cowboy gets distracted easily, either by your presence or by various things you find while cleaning up.
    You know that moment when you find some old toys or other objects filled with memories and you end up occupied with these for at least an hour? Exactly.
    Thanks to the low attention span of both of you, chores tend to take hours to finish, also taking many different turns. Cuddling, tickle fights, or even make-out session. There are no limits to your imagination.
  • Jesse always brings home some kind of present from his missions, mostly food. You rarely have to go grocery shopping because the fridge is filled with so many different snacks from so many different countries.
    When he hasn’t had any missions in a while you are usually the one who does the grocery shopping, simply because McCree often is too tired of busy with other tasks.
    Always remember to buy his favorite chocolate; it will put the sweetest smile on his face! 
  • Since he brings home various ingredients from foreign countries, you use these to try to prepare some exotic meals together. As mentioned before, distractions are not uncommon, cooking is no exception. You might randomly start dancing to your favorite song on the radio and completely forget about the food until you recognize a strange, burnt smell coming from the stove.
  • McCree isn’t really a good cook but surprisingly talented at baking, though only when using a recipe. There’s almost nothing he can’t bake as long as he’s got some instructions. The only thing he knows how to prepare without a recipe is apple pie, his mom taught him ages ago.
    He’s also extremely good at making pancakes. 
  • The cowboy sleeps like a log, there’s absolutely nothing that could wake him up (not even an angry Gabriel Reyes). He also tends to sleep a lot and for quite a long time due to his exhausting missions.
    When sleeping in the same bed, the two of you often end up in a tangle of limbs; he might even roll on top of you in his sleep, making it hard for you to get up in the morning. Just throw him off; he definitely won’t wake up anyway. 
  • He snores, though his snoring is not too loud or weird, luckily. You could call it cute but slightly annoying.
  • He usually wakes up when you are getting ready in the bathroom. He’ll join you in whatever you are doing without bothering to even knock. While you are already awake and busy, he hasn’t even woken up properly; it usually takes him about an hour to completely find his way into reality.
    He’s also extremely clingy in the morning, so prepare to be hugged from behind by your boyfriend who’s almost falling asleep with his head resting on your shoulder. It’s a desperate attempt to get you to snuggle back into the bed again with him, you`ll have to remind him that he has to get ready again which will earn you a sad pout. 
  • When the two of you ever get a day off, you always plan everything weeks beforehand. You organize a trip to the museum, reserve a table at your favorite restaurant, and even get tickets for a movie in the evening. However, you tend to cancel everything and just stay in bed the whole day instead.

Today I went to the grocery store for lunch. My ongoing mission there, besides buying food, is to reduce the accumulated change in my house and my filthy Camry. I use as many coins as I can in the store’s self-checkout machines.

Today was a good day.

There are four self-checkout machines. None were broken. No customers stood in line. As much as I want rid myself of coins I’m not enough of a jerk to make people wait while I carefully drop in coins one by one. One time I found out the hard way (got snapped at by a clerk) that a guy can’t insert coins too quickly or the machine jams. It’s a delicate balancing act where I consider number of coins, speed of coin insertion, number of waiting customers, and my hunger pangs.

My pocket was lighter by 44 pennies and 8 nickels when I left the store a little while ago. Obviously I’m working on the small denominations.

You might think $0.84, big deal. Well it’s priceless peace of mind to me. No one was delayed by my actions. I came home with ingredients for a tasty turkey and gouda sandwich. Fewer coins are in my car and house.

Like I said, today has been a good day.

anonymous asked:

au where whenever there are leftovers in the fridge ,Nina is always that one person that will eat your food whether it's labeled or not

and they’re all gullible when she pretends it wasn’t her. kuwei has his suspicions though. let’s just say he!! doesn’t!! mess!! around!! when it comes to his food. he doesn’t share, the type that will literally attempt biting your hand off if you try to swipe something off his plate. so he makes it his personal mission to find this food bandit. 

he uses some kind of ink or something to mark the bottom of his bowl of leftovers, the stuff that’s near impossible to get off. he’s baffled when no one has marks on their hands the next morning but his food is still gone. turns out nina had been wearing one of matthias’s sweaters that night. the extra space in the sleeves usually makes her pull them over her hands so not only did they come away clean, she didn’t even realize there was something on kuwei’s bowl.

fast forward a few days to when matthias wears that same sweater. no one knows how kuwei managed to put the tallest, strongest, and probably most skilled fighter of the dregs in a headlock but he did. there’s even photographic evidence ok.

Yahoo’s legacy for me

Yesterday was a very emotional day for me… Yesterday was the last FYI (our weekly Yahoo-wide meeting). Something that Marissa started after she arrived at Yahoo in July 2012.

I have never shed tears at my place of work before. So, I wondered why I was all choked up and could not get words out.

My career consists of just two companies in the United States. Roughly equal in time across both, at the first being 11 years, and now at Yahoo more than 9 years.

I remember the last months of my previous (1st) employment in the US. I could not wait to get out. I had a lot of connections in the company, and they gave me a warm goodbye. However, there was no affinity, no camaraderie, we were just employees. We never built a cult(ure).

Then I joined Yahoo in 2008. I was discouraged by many. I had my own doubts, as I was moving from the East coast across to the West. I was changing companies after a long stint. Yahoo stock was not doing well back then. To add to the fun, the day I joined, Microsoft bid $31/share to buy Yahoo. I thought – “big change, new company, in turmoil, simple website, solved technical problems” – lets give it a year or two and move on.

I have been at Yahoo now for more than 9 years. And, I will continue as part of “Oath”.  How did a year or two become almost ten? Why, not just me, but thousands of employees around the world feel that great affinity to this company, this brand? Why do ex-employees say “I bleed purple” when they refer to Yahoo? Why do alumni groups meet up regularly and share experiences?

It is all about the PEOPLE, CULTURE and OPPORTUNITY. 

For me, the best part has been the opportunity to meet and work with these leaders at Yahoo who impacted my life (professionally and otherwise). You will see a common theme of traits that made them special.

a) Belief in employees
b) Humility and down-to-earth demeanor
c) Strong sense of culture
d) Serve the employees, users and shareholders

1. Chuck Neerdaels

Chuck was my first manager at Yahoo. I had never worked for Chuck before, and when I moved to California, I was pleasantly surprised. He was calm, cool and collected (or seemed to be) all the time. Usually the smartest guy in the room, and would rarely try to prove it.

What did I learn from Chuck and why? He was ready to take a bet on me to run a team and lead execution of a tough project, just after a couple of months of being an architect in his group. He was not fainthearted to make hard decisions. And, even when he gave negative feedback to a team or individual, it came across as being a great coach/partner.

Chuck also was a deeply technical manager. He understood technology and technical details. And never let go of being technically differentiated in what we proposed or built.

2. David Filo

Filo is one of the finest human beings you can find. He is humble. Cares about the employees, users and shareholders of the company. He is the soul of Yahoo. 

What did I learn from Filo? Be humble, be grounded. It is not how much you are worth in terms of money or material wealth. It is more important on how you impact lives. He has created something that has given pleasure to thousands of employees and millions of users for 22 years, and more to come.

Initially Filo seemed very reserved, serious and non-people person to me. I have been accused of the same. But over the years, on many occasions, he would reach out to me (during periods of change), check on me, and even find out what my thinking was on some professional decision I had made. And, as I spoke to people in the company, others gave me examples of the same.

A common moniker that Filo is called by is “Cheap” Yahoo (a take on “Chief Yahoo”). Filo is known for his stinginess about capital expenditures. However, my observation was that he was not being cheap, but rather raising the bar. Every time he would ask us to do more experiments or change the estimate, he was actually pushing us to raise the bar on technology and capabilities in order to increase shareholder value.

If you want to give an example to your kids about how to lead ones life, he would be my example. Humble, Human, Caring, Passionate…

3. Jay Rossiter

I have been in Jay’s chain of management for the longest in my career. Either directly or through a layer. And, so have known Jay as my org leader for many years now.

What struck me about Jay, was that he is always ready to invest in people. He believed in me, and my potential, and invested in growing me and my career.

When he saw the gaps, he was not hesitant to point them out. During one promotion cycle early on, he pulled  my name out from the list (which I still insist was a mistake.)  I was upset, and felt that I was ready and deserved. I could have resigned, changed jobs, moved to a different organization. His conviction in doing the right thing for me, his organization, and the company allowed him to make the hard call.

I stayed on, because I had appreciation of his approach and warmth. I knew he had everyone’s best interests in mind. And, in fact, he went one step further to get an executive coach to help me grow in those gaps. He has been one true mentor for me in my career.

And, I have seen Jay do this investment to many folks in the company throughout his career.

I can go on about how Jay is technical, committed, with high integrity. The list would be too long and will show all the positives of a great organizational leader. Above all, like Chuck, like Filo, Jay is a super humble person.

4. Marissa Mayer

If there is one person that I have seen energize and change the culture of a company. And do it in just a couple of years. It is Marissa Mayer. I remember the first company-wide strategy presentation, and I remember thinking “wow”….  now finally we have a CEO who understands the consumer internet, our users, and how to build great products that can compete for the limited time users are willing to spend online. 


Marissa had bold ambitious goals for the resurgence of Yahoo. And, she brought cultural changes in Yahoo around that mission. Free food, workspace changes, smart phone smart fun, dogwood of our apps, WFH, FYI, PB&J. There are countless changes both small and big. The goal was to unite the company, inspire all the employees, and make us part of that mission.

So the main impact that Marissa had on me is, it’s “all about culture”. She knew and remembered every employee she interacted with. Sometimes spent hours talking to employees who queued up in lines. Even yesterday.

Over the last few years I got many questions from friends and family – “How is Yahoo doing under Marissa”, “How is Marissa as a CEO”, “Do you know Marissa?”. I always skirted and avoided the answer being careful about not revealing internal details that I would be privy to.

I personally loved every minute of the 5 years of her tenure, the faith she had in me and many of my colleagues to execute and deliver on the mission. And, she worked tirelessly for the employees, users and shareholders. So, to me the following words embody what Marissa did:

“Success is the peace of mind which is a direct result of self satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to become the best you are capable” – John Wooden

We all gave it our f**king best!!

As a new journey begins for Yahoo, so does one for me. I am hoping that I can carry forward some of the learning from these leaders, and learn from new ones at Oath.

parawhore212  asked:

Congratulations on the followers! Your such an amazing blogger 💖 Can I request a cute drabble about Yukimura and Mc at a festival trying different foods?

A/N: This is a modern AU, bc I have no idea what kind of foods people might have eaten at the festivals in the Sengoku era.

*****

You were cursing your friend Yuki under your breath for setting you up for something as silly as a blind date. And in a festival too. It especially irritated you, because your date was running late, leaving you to stand there alone, staring at your phone as the minutes ticked by.

“Hey, little lady. I thought you were here with my sister.”

You were startled by a voice and glanced up to find Yuki’s younger brother standing in front of you.

“Well… err… She sort of set me up on a blind date…” you admitted sheepishly, fidgetting with the phone still in your hand. Saizo snickered and you let out a sigh, “I know it’s stupid. And it looks like my date isn’t arriving anyway…”

“No, no, little lady,” Saizo had the widest grin you had ever seen on his face, “I’m pretty sure that’s the reason why she had me drag him along.” Saizo pointed over his shoulder, where you could see a handsome young man. A somewhat familiar looking young man, you realised and blushed furiously, grasping Saizo’s hand and pulling him closer,

“H-how do you know Sanada Yukimura? He’s the current world champion in judo! A-and why hasn’t Yuki mention anything about this?”

“Who knows?” Saizo asked and shook your hand off, “Hey Yukimura. This is the nice lady my sister set you up with this time.”

For a moment you wished a hole would have opened in the ground and swallowed you whole. You felt your face burning up with embarrassment and you couldn’t even look at Yukimura in the eye when you bowed and introduced yourself.

“Umm… I’m… Sanada Yukimura. Err… nice to meet… you…”

You were surprised when you heard him introduce himself so bashfully and when you looked up, he had averted his eyes and was blushing furiously. The view was somehow very endearing and you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped before you managed to cover your mouth with your hand.

“H-hey Saizo…” Yukimura tried to ask something from his friend, but he had, at some point, gone with the flow, leaving the two of you to figure things out on your own.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t bring flowers or anything… I didn’t know this was a date…” Yukimura mumbled after a short silence. This time you couldn’t help the laugh.

“It’s okay. I’m pretty sure Yuki had all of this planned out. Come, we’re already here, so we might as well enjoy ourselves.” You led the way into the festival, a lost looking Yukimura following close behind. “What would you like to do first?” you asked.

“Um… It’s been a while since I last went to a festival… Usually, all of my free time is spent training.” He looked at the side, a faint blush still colouring his cheeks.

“It’s okay. Why don’t we try some of the foods first then? And there are some games too we can play!” You led the way and Yukimura followed you like a child in tow.

Occasionally, your hand brushed his and every time it managed to make his cheeks flush. You thought it was cute. Very cute, in fact.

You had been interested in Judo for some time now and had followed Yukimura in magazines. There were quite a few women, who claimed they had dated him, but you began to doubt those accounts. There was no way this sweet innocent man was the playboy some magazines tried to paint him out to be.

After Yukimura won a rabbit plushie for you in the shooting stall, you headed to check the food stalls. You were starting to get quite hungry so for starters, you lead Yukimura to a stall serving yakisoba.

You were just about to pay for your share when Yukimura handed the cashier money over your shoulder. You looked at him surprised, making him blush, but you weren’t going to complain. You were a poor ass student drowning in debt while he was a star athlete coming from a rich family. You thought you should feel bad for letting him treat you, but you were just happy for the extra money it would save you.

“T-this is a date…” Yukimura mumbled when you had stepped aside to eat, “Men should pay when they take a girl out…”

“Thank you,” you mumbled awkwardly and not knowing what else to say you stuffed your mouth full of the soba noodles.

After you had eaten the noodles in a slightly awkward silence, you headed out to look for other treats. The crowd was getting thicker and you reached for Yukimura’s hand so you wouldn’t get separated from him. An instant blush coloured his cheeks, but he didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he squeezed your hand tightly in his and you could feel your heart flutter.

“Yukimura, are you still hungry? There is a stall serving yakitori and I think I saw one serving okonomiyaki over there…”

“I… I think yakitori sounds good…”

Yukimura seemed to be on a mission to taste every food on the festival and you found yourself enjoying his company more and more as he finally started to relax around you. 

“Aren’t you going to take some too?” Yukimura asked his brows furrowed a bit as he looked at you, a skewer of takoyaki in each hand.

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to treat me on so many things…” you admitted. At that point, you had already let him treat you to some yakitori and taiyaki and had tasted some of several other dishes Yukimura had gotten himself.

Now he looked at you a kind smile on his face.

“Don’t worry about that for today, okay? I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Okay,” you found yourself reply with a small smile. How could you say no when he looked at you so kindly and such an earnest smile on his face. “In that case, I’d like some takoyaki too.”

Yukimura gave you the other skewer from his hand a bright broad smile on his face and you couldn’t but return it, the small flutter you had felt earlier returning tenfold.

“Hurry, we’ll miss the fireworks!” You dragged Yukimura by his hand, stuffing the last dango in your mouth. You just made it to a good spot near the riverbank when the first fireworks shot to the sky.

“Wow, they are so pretty…!” you couldn’t help but admire them and you turned towards Yukimura, who was standing next to you. Only he was standing much closer than you had anticipated. And looking straight at you.

A momentary insanity must have struck you since your normal reaction would have been to pull away, but you couldn’t help but lean closer, captivated by his sea blue eyes illuminated by the fireworks. Your lips met his in a sweet kiss that tasted like dango.

*****

“So, how did your date go, you cougar?” Yuki teased you the next day.

“C-cougar? I’ll show you cougar, you! You’re the one who set me up on a date with him!” You tossed your pillow at Yuki, who dodged it laughing. “We’re seeing each other next week. He promised to take me to the amusement park.”

“Cougar~!” Yuki teased you again, hiding behind her bag when you tossed the rabbit plushie Yukimura had won for you.

“He’s only four years younger, damn it!” you cursed her before you slumped down on your bed hiding your face. “Yukiiii… I kissed him and it was super embarrassing!” you continued after a short break, your words partly mumbled by your mattress, “I don’t think I’ve ever blushed so hard from second-hand embarrassment… It was so awkward…” you turned on your back, looking at the ceiling, “But I really like him…I hope he likes me too.”

“Oh, he does.”

You turned to look at Yuki surprised and saw her grinning at you.

“How do you know?” you asked suspiciously.

“Saizo told me.”

“I doubt that. Saizo never tells anything.”

“I bribed him with dango. That you’re going to make~”

“I hate you so much right now…”

“I know you love me~“ Yuki blew you a kiss and you couldn’t but smile at her, your thoughts occupied by the man whose sea blue eyes you found so captivating.

anonymous asked:

On the subject of dying, do you think Mary is going to die by the end of this season?

Well - real life aside, it depends on Mary’s narrative arc, and the problem is, I’m not sure we even know what’s going on with that? At least, it’s not clear to me.

In the beginning, Mary used to be unsettled and how of place, so my gut reaction was, Okay, she’s getting the ‘wronged ghost’ arc - I assumed she didn’t want to stay on Earth, or that she wouldn’t be allowed to stay on Earth, but since there was still something tethering her here, she wasn’t ready to let go. As to what that something was - getting to know her kids, perhaps? Protecting them form the supernatural in the way she hadn’t managed to all those years ago? But then, the character evolved. Now she’s working with the BMoL, and she seems plenty okay with where she is and how she’s fitting in, so narratively things have gotten more complicated. Also, we already know she’d die for her kids, so that point, which would have been a classical end of season conclusion, is moot. 

(Although, interestingly enough, she would sacrifice her kids, and herself, for a chance of completing ‘the mission’, so that’s some food for thought.)

And, sure, one could argue that Mary’s purpose in joining the BMoL ties in with her ‘original’ narrative purpose, because it’s about ridding the world of monsters and therefore save her kids, but I think there’s more to it than that. What Ketch said about Dean? Well, he wasn’t wrong - he just wasn’t talking to the right Winchester. Because Dean is not like that -

The Men of Letters is an excellent fit for someone with our - inclinations. You’re a killer, Dean Winchester, and so am I. And if we go too long without something to track or trap or punch or gut, well, things get a bit ugly. Don’t they?

- but I’m starting to think Mary is. I’m sure we’ve all noticed how her hunting style has changed over the past few weeks. In the very beginning, she was set in her old ways and also oddly gentle, like her sons get when they realize monsters are not completely at fault (I’m thinking in particular about her relationship with that ghost kid). But now, all of that is gone. She dresses in tactical black, carries every gadget she can find, accepts leadership and orders instead of wandering off on her own, knows all the lingo and terminology she needs to communicate with her squad, and monsters - they’re just a pest, things to be killed. Bloodsuckers, she called those vampires they exterminated.  

(Cut to a young girl, desperate and terrified: “They’re all dead.”)

In assuming what is shaping up to be also Cas’ trope this season - the soldier who’s seen too much war and now can’t do without - Mary’s arc changes radically. As far as I know, that story has no happy ending. The thing mostly goes, Man oh man, it was so bad over there, I’m happy to be here (with you) again - and then what follows is, in the best case, nightmares and unhappiness and a sort of frenzied edginess; in the worst, a hasty return to the battlefield. That’s basically the plot of The Hurt Locker, of Sherlock (in a way), of the entire 24 franchise. And it’s so hard to find a happy ending because the challenge the character needs to overcome is inside their mind, not out, and is fed not only by their craving of combat (that ‘purity’ Dean also struggled with), but also what comes with it: the adrenaline rush, those ‘tighter than blood’ friendships, and the feeling of doing something right, useful, acutely needed. In fiction, this trope is often very similar to the struggle of the drug addict, of the alcoholic, because this is what it’s all about: an addiction.

So, look, I don’t know. Mary didn’t seem particularly taken with motherhood and a normal life the first time around, so I doubt she’ll do a Jody and try to start a family again. On the other hand, she can’t stay in the Bunker, because there’s no way the show will ever be about that, and we know it well by now. She could die, but it’d seem cheap, petty, almost, to bring her back in such a momentous way to kill her off after a handful of episodes. My guess is that the rest of this season will show Mary (and Sam) picked the wrong side, and it will all end in blood and heartache, and Mary will run away at the end, or disappear, so we can explore all sort of painful mirrors next season - stuff like, Should we go after her? and She doesn’t want us to find her and She killed Jody, man (just saying whatever here, hope it doesn’t come down to that) and, inevitably, But she’s mom. And, I don’t know - why did Sam and Dean try so hard to find John in S1 again? Because Sam wanted to get his hands on John’s new intel on Yellow Eyes so he could kill him, and Dean - Dean was motivated, as he always is, by a twin need to both look after his family and not be left alone. Like, Dean went to find Sam because he couldn’t deal with life on his own and also because he was downright worried about John, however little he said about that. Here was an unpredictable drunk, the only parent he’d ever known, going off after a demon on his own. That was a death sentence for sure. But now - if Mary were to disappear, that would really show how these characters have grown. Now, they understand how hollow revenge is; they both said as much in The Chitters. They also know hunting’s a job, not a mission, and that one day - hopefully - they’ll get out of it. They understand (sort of) that adults make their own decisions; that you’re not responsible for other people’s lives.

I hope this sort of makes sense? This is not (exactly) what I’d like for this story, but I’m just trying to be realistic. If Mary doesn’t die, which, as I said, doesn’t seem likely, then we’ll need a good reason for her to be absent most of next season, because that’s how Supernatural works, and I hope they’ll not have her just river gambling or whatever - I’m hoping for some solid explanation for her absence, and from the way things are shaping up, it looks like whatever it is, it’ll be very unpleasant.