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everybodyscupoftea · 3 years

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i’ll make this feel like home

ole miss rafe x reader

rafe moves to starkville

my followers: we want pike jj!

me: no <3

warnings: cursing, drinking, very little editing

You’d stopped going home for the summer the summer after your sophomore year, and when you graduated, your parents made the drive to Starkville with the rest of your stuff to help you move and get situated in your new apartment.

“Where’s Rafe?” your dad asked, stretched out on the couch after all the furniture was moved in.

You hummed, straightening the flag you’d hung on the wall, “Still in Oxford, his lease runs out in a few weeks.”

He grimaced at Oxford and sighed, “Well, when he finally escapes, where’s he moving to?”

“Aspen Heights.”

Your dad whistled lowly, “Fancy place, huh?”

“Yeah, he liked the in-complex gym.”

“Is he going to need help moving in?” your mom asked, sitting down next to your dad.

“Don’t think so, I think some of his frat buddies were going to help him.”

They both nodded and your dad stood, stretching out, “Alright, let’s hit Little Dooey and then your mom and I will head on home.”

“I’m good,” you told them, “gonna finish hanging up all my stuff and then order some pizza probably.”

Your dad gave you a look, “We’re paying, come eat good food please.”

You rolled your eyes but started to pull your shoes on, not one to argue with free food.

“Hey, baby,” Rafe yelled into the phone and you flinched, pulling it away from your ear for a second.

“Hey, Cameron. Whatcha doing?”

“Me and the boys are finishing up here, were thinking about going to get drinks. Do you have any bar recommendations here?”

You pouted and paused the show you were watching on TV, stretching your legs out across the couch before answering, “I kind of wanted to show you new places, not so you can go infiltrate them with your Ole Miss buddies.”

“You can come,” he offered and you could hear a loud chorus of groans in the background.

“No,” you declined with a sigh, “don’t want to infringe on your last bit of guy time. Just go to Mugshots or something.”

“Babe,” he whined, “we have one of those in Oxford.”

“Mhmm,” you replied, “you took me there on a date once.”

Rafe snorted, “Point taken. We’ll just Yelp some bars or something.”

Later that night, you opened a snapchat from Rafe asking what you were up to, and in the corner of the screen, you could see a Mugshots menu. Grinning, you sent back a picture of the TV screen.

A few weeks before school started, Rafe and you had orientation. Your group made plans to head to a bar after the last day, and Rafe with a few of the students in his program met you there. Four shots in, you leaned heavily into Rafe’s side and smiled dopily at him, “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey, bub, how was day three?”

“Good, we got to tour all the labs and stuff, and we got our reading list for the semester.”

“Big classes?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, lots of new faces,” you nodded seriously before straightening up, “but I did recognize some from my classes in undergrad.”

“Oh yeah? Glad you have a familiar face!”

You nodded, humming, before asking, “Oh, how was your day?”

“We toured the library,” he made a face, “and then talked about the curriculum as a whole, what was expected of us and all that fun stuff.”

“Do you think you’re going to like it?” you asked.

“I think so, yeah.”

“I don’t,” you trailed off, “I don’t want you to regret choosing Mississippi State and regret me.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he bent down, face coming in close to yours, “What are you talking about?”

You shrugged, cheeks burning, and looked away, “I don’t know. I just feel like you miss your friends and I don’t want you to be miserable.”

Rafe tilted your chin up, “I could never be miserable with you.”

“Promise?” you asked weakly, holding up your pinky.

“Promise,” he answered solemnly, linking pinkies, “now, let’s drink tonight, no reason to be thinking about sad things when we just made it through orientation.”

“Let’s go,” you cheered, pulling away, “Round five on me!”

And that was the last thing you remembered until you woke up the next day, mouth dry and head aching. Rafe was pressed against your back, arm wrapped loosely around your waist. Looking around, you recognized that you were in your bed, and slowly climbed out, trying not to disturb him.

The clock on the stove in the kitchen read 11:00, and you filled a cup with water to start rehydrating. Not even 20 minutes later, Rafe trudged out, rubbing his eyes tiredly before pushing his glasses up his nose, and pulled the fridge open. He scanned a few seconds before letting the door close, “You have no food.”

“Yeah,” your voice cracked, “I gotta go grocery shopping soon.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to eat?”

You shrugged, taking another sip of water, and then brightened, “Wait, actually, I want to take you to Starkville Café.”

“You drive,” was his only answer.

In no time the two of you were walking out the door, teeth and hair brushed, but pretty much nothing else looking presentable. You downed two Advil and cranked up the car, pulling out your hangover sunglasses to wear on the drive there.

While it wasn’t a game weekend, Starkville Café still had it’s normal line on the sidewalk. “Spot,” Rafe called out and you slammed on the brakes, pulling into the one open parking spot on the street.

He got on the list, and the two of you stood outside to wait. It was hot and there wasn’t much shade left. Rafe was leaned against the wall, and you stood in front of him, forehead pressed into his chest. One of his arms draped loosely over your shoulders, and you shut your eyes, basking in the quiet moment.

Humming, Rafe pressed a kiss to your temple stroked his other hand up and down one of your arms. You swore you could’ve fallen asleep, eyes fluttering, until a worker stepped out and called, “Rafe, party of two,” several times.

The restaurant was loud when the two of you sat down, and Rafe looked around curiously at all the strange décor on the walls. You covered your laugh with a cough at his mildly disturbed look, “Get the chocolate milk, it’s unmatched.”

You already knew what you wanted, and it didn’t take long for Rafe to figure out his order. When the waitress had dropped off your drinks and picked up the menus, Rafe leaned forward onto his elbow and nudged your foot with his under the table.

“Anything you want to get off your chest?” he asked you, face earnest.

“No,” you squinted at him, confused.

“Last night you mentioned that you were worried I would regret my decision to move here with you.”

Inhaling sharply, you felt your cheeks heat up, “I didn’t, I mean, I don’t want you to.”

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

Rafe nodded, “Good. I just need you to know that I was looking at this program already, before you and I even got together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I wasn’t interested in leaving the South and MSU had a European tract. And I’ll find friends here too, sure I miss some of my frat brothers, but I’ll get settled here. Plus, I want to be with you.”

“I believe you, I just don’t want you to be here out of obligation. Obviously, I love it here, but it’s not for everyone.”

Rafe snorted, “I will say it’s going to be a bit of adjustment going down to just one movie theatre.”

Your jaw dropped at his teasing words just as the waitress sat his food down in front of him, “I cannot believe you’re still harping on that.”

Cutting a piece of his pancake, he smirked, “Can you really not?”

“It wasn’t cute the first time and it’s still not cute now.”

“The fact that we’re currently dating says otherwise.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Whatever,” turning your focus toward your food. After a few seconds you felt Rafe kick you again under the table.

“In case it’s not clear, I’ll gladly go to only one movie theatre with you.”

“Nerd,” you told him, trying to hide a smile.

“Only for you.”

#college rafe #ole miss rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 5 years

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We’ll Carry On - Chapter Thirty Two

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

July 30th, 2010

Roman looked at the scene in front of him with awe. The sun was beating down, but there were people with colorful umbrellas and blankets everywhere. Sand as far as the eye could see to his left and right, and directly in front of him, was a giant ocean. “This is cool!” he exclaimed.

“This is the beach,” his mom said. “Let’s figure out a place to go sit down and then you can play in the waves or collect shells, or build sandcastles to your heart’s content.”

Roman’s jaw dropped open. “And we get to be here all day?!” he asked with pure excitement in his voice.

“If that’s what you want, my little knight,” his mom said, smiling.

Roman nodded. He couldn’t believe it. The beach looked so magical!

August 4th, 2019

Roman was having the time of his life. Their whole family had gone to the beach for a vacation, and he was currently swimming at the edges of the ocean with Logan, who was floating on a cheap boogie board. “You really like riding the waves, huh?” he teased Logan.

Logan rolled his eyes. “It’s nice to float rather than tread water, and if I get to ride a wave to the shore, it’s just that much more fun.”

Roman turned to look at the shore. Virgil and Patton were building sandcastles, and Dee was drawing letters in the sand. They had taken the weekend off, and while it had only been two days, this had been some of the most fun Roman had the whole summer. Vanellope was being pet-sat by one of Logan’s friends in the neighborhood, so they really had nothing to worry about for these two days except what they wanted to do next.

A huge wave took Roman by surprise, and he and Logan were both tossed toward the shore. Roman rolled unceremoniously right up to Patton and Virgil, laughing his head off. Logan gently stood up with a smirk. “Not gonna diss my boogie board now, are you?” Logan asked. “It kept me from eating saltwater.”

Roman spat out what saltwater had made it to his mouth and he stood up, jabbing a finger in Logan’s chest, just above his sports bra. Roman was quickly proving that he grew faster than Logan, and would probably be the taller of the both of them. Already, Roman was only an inch shorter than his older brother. “I will always diss your boogie board. It’s a boogie board.”

“That doesn’t even explain what you have against it!” Logan exclaimed.

“It’s made for kids, Logan,” Roman said.

“So are cartoons, are you going to make fun of Dad for watching them?” Logan challenged.

Roman huffed. “No. But you still look like a dork.”

“He always looks like a dork!” Dee exclaimed, just a little too loud to be a normal voice.

Everyone turned to Dee in shock. He frowned. “What?” he asked, still using his voice over his hands.

“You’re speaking,” Logan said.

“Without being sarcastic!” Roman added.

Dee frowned and shrugged. “I can do it. It’s just harder than signing, so I usually don’t. But you guys weren’t paying attention to me waving, so I decided to talk.”

“Your voice sounds kinda flat,” Virgil said.

“I know,” Dee said, rolling his eyes. “One of the reasons I don’t like talking. Because I can’t use tone right. I can barely hear it unless you’re being sarcastic. That’s the only tone I can use and recognize.”

“But...but you can talk and it’s in full sentences! That’s...that’s like, really cool!” Patton exclaimed.

Dee frowned. “You guys did it when you were my age.”

“We didn’t sign almost exclusively until we were six and a half,” Roman pointed out.

“I’m still gonna sign most of the time,” Dee said. “‘Specially at school, ‘cause if I talk there the principal will take away my translator. But yeah. I can talk.”

Logan nodded and gave Dee a thumbs-up. “I resent you calling me a dork,” he said.

“I resent you implying that you’re anything but a dork,” Dee said, voice deadpan and without missing a beat.

Logan’s jaw dropped and Roman howled with laughter. Dee had a huge grin on his face, and fist-bumped Virgil when Virgil offered his fist out. Patton was giggling and Logan just stood there, shell-shocked. When he finally returned to himself, he said, “Well played, Dee. Well played.”

Dee signed, “Thank you,” and promptly went back to writing letters in the sand, and Roman recognized some very basic words, like “the” and “and” and a few nouns like “dog” and “cat” and one even went so far as to say “cookie.” Roman rolled his eyes at that. No doubt Patton had taught Dee that one.

Roman walked back to the edge of the water, wading in until he was about chest deep, and just let the water wash around him. Logan came up next to him and sighed. “Do you ever feel lonely?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Roman glanced at Logan.

“I mean, Patton, Virgil, and Dee are about the same ages. Patton and Virgil are twins, and Dee is only two years younger. They could have been born into the same family. But between you and Patton and Virgil, there’s a five-year gap. And there’s an eight-year gap between me and the twins. I’m a whole decade older than Dee. Sometimes it just feels lonely, being the only one who’s close to where I am mentally, you know, developmentally. You’re the one who’s closest, and you’re just hitting puberty.” Logan shook his head and sighed again. “I don’t have anyone in this family who’s my age, who understands what I’ve been through. I’m the trail-blazer of our generation of the family. And it just feels...”

“Lonely,” Roman filled in, nodding. “I understand a little. You’ve already been thirteen, so you can help a little with some of what I’m dealing with, and we’re going through the male parts of puberty almost at the same time. But there is something about that three-year difference that feels like an invisible wall is put up. And with the twins and Dee, it’s almost like a physical wall. I definitely can tell it’s always there, though.”

“Yeah,” Logan sighed. “It’s less with you, but I still feel a certain degree of separation.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “I don’t like it.”

Logan looked over and nudged him. “Eh. It’s not the end of the world, and we both feel the loneliness, so at least we can be alone together.”

Roman blinked. “That’s a song reference, isn’t it?”

“Fall Out Boy,” Logan confirmed with a nod. “Twenty thirteen. Save Rock and Roll. Good album.”

“You’re such a dork,” Roman laughed, shaking his head and turning to face the waves. As one crested and Roman jumped while Logan floated with his infuriating boogie board, he sobered a little. “But in all seriousness, I’m glad to have you as my brother.”

“Same here, Roman,” Logan said. “Same here.”

When they were done with the beach itself, they wandered the boardwalk. There were plenty of arcades to look through, and quite a few restaurants to try. Roman went for the infamous fries of the area, while Logan elected to try a piece of huge pizza. Patton got chocolate ice cream, Virgil got orange sherbert, and Dee tried his very first corn dog, and proceeded to eat the entire thing in the span of ten minutes.

There was a small amusement park area full of rides, and the younger boys were immediately looking around at it in wonder the second Dad and Ami said they could spend some time inside. Roman and Logan hung together, less interested in the carousel and the bumper cars than the others. “A haunted house,” Roman pointed out.

“Not open until five,” Logan replied, pointing at the sign hanging above the entrance to the line.

“Those swing things,” Roman offered, pointing at the giant swing that acted like a carousel.

Logan shrugged. “Those can be entertaining, but we both just ate.”

“I guess that means the Tilt-a-Whirl is out of the question,” Roman said with a grin.

“Completely,” Logan said.

“The Viking boat?” Roman asked, pointing at the swing in question.

Logan paled. “Those have a fifty-fifty chance of sending you completely upside-down, and I’d rather not find out that I’d be doing loop-de-loops by sitting in the ride.”

The swing picked up speed and Roman and Logan watched as the swing reached its peak height, before flipping completely upside-down. “Okay, maybe not,” Roman said, voice strained.

“Definitely not,” Logan agreed.

Roman looked around. “There’s not a lot of rides designed for older kids and adults,” he observed.

“Amusement parks rarely pander to adults, which is a shame, if you ask me,” Logan said, pulling at the drawstrings on his board shorts. “The bigger ones have rides that adults can enjoy, but smaller ones, especially at beaches like this, pander more towards children.”

Roman made an unamused sound in the back of his throat. Patton and Virgil started yelling and headed towards a small ferris wheel. Roman and Logan trailed behind Dad and Ami. “I just want to ride something that’s made more for adults,” he sighed.

Logan looked around and pointed to something a little to the left of the ferris wheel. “Would that be something you like?”

Roman looked at the ride. It looked like a Ferris wheel, except the seats weren’t enclosed, and there was a safety bar holding you in your seat, but that was it. The whole thing was tilted at an angle, also unlike the Ferris wheel. And it moved fast, both forwards and backwards, Roman realized, as it slowed down before spinning in reverse. “Could be fun,” he allowed.

Logan offered him a smile and dragged him over to the ride, calling to Dad and Ami that they were going to check it out.

The line was almost nonexistent, and they got to sit down almost immediately after the ride let the other people off. One by one, people got in the cars, and one by one, the ride moved them further and further up, until they were heading down the other side of the ride. Once every car was taken, as more people started forming a line once they saw the ride open, they started it up with a jerk and Roman laughed nervously.

Quickly, they picked up speed and went in circles, going forwards and then backwards as they got halfway around the wheel. Roman laughed as the wind swept at his face and the people waiting got bigger and smaller at near ridiculous speeds. Logan was laughing next to him, right until they stopped at the top of the wheel, and then started swinging in the reverse direction at the same fast speed.

The ride took maybe two minutes, but it left Roman and Logan breathless as they laughed and jumped out of the car when they were at the bottom and the technician undid the safety bar.

As they walked out of the ride and to the Ferris wheel, Dad waved. “Have fun?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Roman exclaimed.

“We could hear you guys laughing from here,” Ami chuckled. “It must have been a good ride.”

“It was fun,” Logan said. “The wind rushing through our hair and the quick change in scenery was amusing.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “You talk like a college student’s essay sometimes, you know that?” he asked.

Logan shrugged noncommittally. “Whatever,” he said.

They turned to look at the Ferris wheel just in time to see Virgil, Patton, and Dee wave at them. Roman waved back and Logan just laughed. They watched the Ferris wheel go around twice more before Patton, Virgil, and Dee were let out of the car and they bounded over. “We saw you guys on the really fast one over there!” Patton exclaimed, pointing. “Was it fun?”

“Yeah,” Logan said. “But probably not a good idea for you guys yet.”

“Yeah, no, we were just wondering if you liked it,” Virgil said. “We didn’t want to get on it ourselves.”

Dee signed, “Speak for yourself.”

“You were scared when they got on and you know it!” Patton exclaimed. “You’re the one who asked if they’d be okay!”

“Boys, play nice,” Ami reminded them. “Do you want to play in the arcade for a while?”

“Sure,” they all said.

Roman and Logan immediately gravitated towards the skee-ball games while Patton and Virgil played more with the lower-stakes games that still gave out toys and tickets. Dee played the crane games and quickly figured out he was surprisingly adept at it. He won all of the others small stuffed toys, and got one for himself as well.

Logan and Roman pooled their tickets together to get some of the larger prizes, a lava lamp for Roman and a teddy bear for Logan, which caused him to blush when questioned and mumble that he had won a bear exactly like this one at another arcade when he was younger, but his ex-father had made him get rid of it when he turned twelve.

Patton and Virgil got smaller toys, little wind-up animals and finger traps and a few other things that amused them to no end. When they got back to their hotel room, and packed everything up for the ride back home, Roman was already yawning. The second they were in the sun-warmed van on their way home, he was fast asleep, a small smile still on his face at the memory of the whole day.

#we'll carry on #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #our creations #danger gays

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sterekchub · 6 years

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Part 1.

A/N: I’m really sorry. This got SO far away from me and....yeah.

OCTOBER:

Legend has it that that the Being created the Gods and Goddesses to bring balance to the newly created Earth. Heaven was split into two groups – the Virtues and Sins. The God of Giving and the Goddess of Greed. The Goddess of Moderation and the God of Gluttony. Chastity and Lust. Forgiveness and Wrath. Truth and Heresy. Peace and Violence. One day, Greed decided she wanted total dominion over the Earth. Joined by the other Sins, they tried to overthrow the Virtues.

As punishment, the Being cast the Sins out of Heaven. Unable to destroy immortal beings, they were sentenced to their own domain in the Circles of Hell. The Sins would be cursed for all eternity, unable to partake in their own sins, only able to watch over other sinning souls.

Once every hundred years, on All Hallows Eve, the Sins can cross from the Circles of Hell into limbo into the mortal world. Only by possessing a kindred soul can the Sins stay in the mortal world for twelve lunar cycles, before returning to - .

The last word got smeared out by a large blob of ketchup.

“Shit!” Stiles hurriedly grabbed a napkin to clean off the offending strain. He only succeeded in turning the majority of the page a dull red. Shrugging, he stuffed another handful of fries in his mouth, marking the page down as he did so with a blue sticky note, indicating a true myth, rather than a “myth likely to be factual.”

“How’s it going?” Scott stopped and sniffed the air. “Your room reeks like a drive-thru. Have you been eating fast food all week?”

Stiles waved a fry at him. “Hey, this is all brain food. Deaton gave me all these books and I think half of them are all nonsense. Werewolves and banshees and wendigoes are one thing, Gods and circles of Hell are just made up stories.”

“Have time to take a break and catch a movie? It’s the Halloween double-feature: Scream and Nightmare on Elm Street.”

“Hell yes, Dude!”

***

NOVEMBER:

Two weeks after Halloween, Stiles finally caved and went to see Deaton. It took a while to explain his problem. He wasn’t being possessed like he had been before. There were no periods of time he couldn’t remember, no second voice in his head influencing his decisions. He wasn’t watching helplessly as someone else controlled his body. There was, however, something in his head constantly suggesting foods, regardless if he had just eaten or not. Stiles would eat his usual Chinese take-out order and suddenly find himself desperately craving pizza, his mind buzzing and unable to focus on anything else.

Deaton, as his usual expressive self, didn’t say a word until Stiles was finished his explanation. Then he pulled out the book Stiles had been pouring over weeks ago and opened to the ketchup-stained, blue tagged page.

“Are you kidding me? I thought it was a myth.”

“Most of the supernatural world is a myth.”

“So I’m possessed by an immortal being. Again.”

Deaton nodded. “Gluttony is not malicious in nature. The Sins only possess humans to ah – live vicariously through them. It cannot control you. Likely it will seek to share and intensify any of you experiences, not try to manipulate you into new ones.”

Stiles’ stomach grumbled. “Really?’

‘It can offer suggestions and perhaps forceful persuasions but aside from the cravings, it holds no actual power.”

“Great. So I’m a demon’s personal eating machine.”

“You could try fighting it. It will only last a year. It may be beneficial. Typically Demon possession does offer the host with extra strength and stamina to ensure their health.”

“Wonderful.”

***

DECEMBER

Stiles had never been happier to have a job that allowed him to work from home. It turned out the trick to keep the cravings down was to either eat a lot at once, or be constantly snacking. So long as Stiles kept munching on things every few minutes, he could actually focus on his work, rather than focusing on his next meal. It had taken him a few weeks of trying to fight against the constant grumbling of his stomach and fleeing images of food running across his head, but finally Stiles had gotten into the swing of living with a Gluttony Demon residing in his head.

It started with Oreos. Stiles had pulled open his desk drawer to finish off the last row of Oreos, needing something sweet after his afternoon of munching on chips. Apparently, finishing those off wasn’t enough and Stiles found himself compelled to run to the store for more. Stiles felt a thrill of excitement that definitely did not belong to him when he saw just how many varieties the stored offered. Stiles supposed that, not having tasted food in a hundred years, the choices of the 21st century were overwhelming.

One of everything went into his basket, Oreos thins, mini, double-stuffed, golden, birthday cake, mega stuffed, mint, red velvet, cinnamon bun, lemon, mystery flavored, peanut butter, chocolate, chocolate hazelnut, chocolate peanut-butter, brownie batter, apple pie, fudge covered, and completely unnecessarily, regular. Stiles gave the Demon credit – he wasn’t picky and wanted to be very thorough in his attempts to try everything possible.

The boxes were finished by the end of the week. It really wasn’t a hardship. Stiles always had a big sweet tooth. Plus, who didn’t love Oreos? He tried not to think about how it took a few seconds longer to force his button his pants on Sunday. Or about how his normal junk-food cravings were becoming alarming frequent and a staple of his daily diet. Stiles’ always had a fast metabolism. For the amount of pizza and cafeteria food Stiles ate during college, he only had put on the freshman fifteen. So he could handle a few hundred Oreos. No problem.

“It’s really not that bad,” he told his father one night on the phone. “It’s an excuse to eat anything I want.”

“You have always been a model of restraint,” John replied sarcastically.

“Someone had to keep the unhealthy stuff away from you.”

‘Just take care of yourself, kid. And don’t call me when you get stuck in a doorway.”

“Haha. It’s under control, Dad. Don’t worry.”

***

JANUARY

Things were becoming less “under control” when the Demon had gone through all the possible snacks Stiles could think of and progressed to wanting full meals. Multiple meals. Several times a day. It was becoming increasingly frustrating to try and work on his novel. He was either focused on what he was going to eat or was sleepily watching dumb videos online as he fell into a food coma. Optimistically, he told himself it was just a phase. Last month it had been snacks, this month it was meals, next month maybe it would be fruit or salads or something.

Currently, he was laying on his couch, polishing off the last of his Chinese takeout order, with reruns of some HGTV show playing in the background. He really did feel like a glutton when he ate like this. He should have stopped a container of sweet and sour pork and five egg rolls ago, but he had kept going. It was hard to tell if the cravings were the Demon in his head or the subconscious need to finish everything. Just to see if he could. Just to feel the weight of having his gut filled, swollen and protruding over his waistband, forcing him to take a few more bites of food, pushing the final egg roll into his mouth before leaning back against the couch with a soft moan of relief. He closed his eyes, listening to woman on television debating what house she wanted. He nodded off before finding out what house she picked, an arm resting over his belly.

Stiles dreamed of pizza. He was in the pizza parlor, sitting at a lone table in the center of the restaurant. Servers stood around him, each offering him different slices, acting like he was some grand judge on a food competition, insisting he had to try them all before he made his decision. Stiles was reaching for piece after piece, stuffing them into his mouth impossibly fast while his belly started to push out in front of him. Another couples of pizza slices, or maybe entire pizza’s later, his stomach knocked over the table in front of him as it kept growing in size…

He woke up with a start and reached for his phone. He already had the pizza place on speed dial.

“Thank you for calling Charlie’s Pizza. What can I get for you?”

“A medium meat lover’s pizza and an order of wings.”

“Is that it?”

“Ye – ” Another craving hit him. Stiles rubbed his still full belly and added resignedly. “ – and an order of breadsticks. And garlic bread.”

‘Your total will $21.27. See you in a half-hour.”

***

FEBRUARY

“Look, I get it. I’m getting fat and turning into a pig. You don’t need to bring me my – my daily feed or whatever!”

Derek stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You! I know you’ve been having the pack cook for me! Even Jackson dropped food off. From his personal chef!”

Derek set the bag of carefully packaged food he was holding on the counter. “We figured you were getting sick of takeout.”

“I can cook for myself.”

“You haven’t been cooking.”

“And how do you know that?” Stiles asked angrily. “Busy stalking me but couldn’t be bothered to actually say ‘Hi, Stiles, want to do something?’ Or do you just get a laugh watching me do nothing all day but eat alone?”

“I can tell by the trashcan overflowing with take-out containers, Stiles. Don’t blame me for this. I’ve been texting you. Scott has been texting you. You’ve ignored everyone.”

Stiles shoulders sagged in defeat. “I know. I’m sorry. I thought I could handle this.”

Derek pulled the younger man against him, burying his face in the Stiles’ neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Big Guy.” He wrapped his arms tighter around Derek. “I do appreciate the food.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be eating only junk-food.”

“Yes, Dad,” Stiles said playfully. “I make sure I’m eating vegetables.”

“Fried vegetables don’t count.”

“They sort of count.”

Derek growled. Stiles stayed still for a few more minutes, content to just be in Derek’s reassuring embrace for a while longer.

“Hey, Der. What if – what it I don’t really mind this?”

There was no answer for a few seconds. Derek merely stiffened, then pulled pack enough to press a gentle kiss to Stiles’ lips. “It’s okay.”

“And I don’t mind getting to eat so much.”

“Okay.”

“And maybe I like being this heavy.”

“Okay.”

Stiles swatted him on the arm. “Forget how to use words again?”

“Ever think I don’t mind either?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank god.” Stiles squirmed out of Derek’s grip and started pulling Tupperware containers out of the bag. “Because I’m starving.”

“Wasting away.” Derek agreed.

Stiles response was lost behind the food he had already started shoveling in his mouth. “This is amazing. Have I ever said that you’re my favorite person?”

“Hmm. Nope. Never came up. Good thing we aren’t dating, or anything.”

“Ass. But I forgive you for making this amazing food.”

“They’re my mother’s recipes. I don’t know if I got them quite right, but I thought you might want something new.”

“Any free food is good food. My entire paycheck has been going to food and new jeans.”

“You know I can pay – ”

“ I am not being the sugar baby in this relationship.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me,” Stiles grinned. He tossed the empty container into the sink and grabbed a second one. “Sorry, I’d offer you some but –” Stiles gestured to his protruding middle. There was a clear few inches of pale skin sticking out from under his shirt. Time to size up. Again. “Unless you want to hear this complaining all night, I need all the food I can get.”

The food Derek had brought was sufficient enough to keep Stiles’ stomach from growling through the night. In the early hours of the morning, before Stiles was even awake, his stomach started rumbling. Derek left him a stack of pancakes and bacon. Next to the plate was a credit card with a scribbled note: Use it. Please.

***

MARCH (Sorry for Derek and Stiles both being a little bad about respecting each other’s privacy in this section. Not that either of them mind…)

Derek never had a very interesting browser history. He had left it open on his computer, which was just unfairly asking for someone to take a quick peek. Stiles felt mildly guilty about it, comforted only by telling himself Derek eavesdropped on most his conversations and always pointed out when he was lying. Granted, Derek couldn’t exactly lose his werewolf abilities, but still, boundaries. Stiles considered it even.

The browser history had, unsurprisingly, nothing interesting. A few recipes, a couple of monster lore searches, a least once a week a visit to his credit card statement… That seemed unusual. Derek didn’t even have that card on him; it was the one he had left for Stiles (which he had reluctantly agreed to use after a few arguments. Stiles wasn’t a starving artist per say, but nor was he independently wealthy).

Now it seemed like an even trade off. His boyfriend pays for his food and then – Stiles grinned. Really, it was a miracle Derek hadn’t gotten possessed by the Lust demon. There must be a level of hell reserved for getting off this many times to their boyfriend, without telling them….

Stiles was still sitting in front of the computer when Derek came back to the loft. “So, worried I’m spending too much money, or just very interested in how much I’ve been eating?”

Derek turned so red Stiles was concerned he had forgot how to breath for a few moments. “I can explain.”

“That you’ve been getting off to how much food I’ve ordered? That’s pretty kinky, Derek.” He lifted up the hem of his shirt, letting his belly wobble out. It took up a considerable amount of space in his lap now. “I’d say you like thinking about how fat I’m getting.”

“Jesus, Stiles, I can’t pay my bills without being turned on. Do you know how many times you’ve ordered food in the past month?

Stiles grinned wider. “Just think that isn’t all I’ve eaten. I’ve been putting groceries on my card, and Lydia dropped off some pies and Mrs. McCall made the best mac&cheese casseroles for me….”

“I know,” Derek groaned. “Look at this, Stiles.” He knelt in front of Stiles, lifting his belly up, struggling to undo the button of his jeans, before letting it thud back into his lap jiggling. “You haven’t – stopped – eating.”

“Can’t help it. A glutton has to eat. ‘M getting so fat, Derek.” “Can’t believe how much food you order in a day. How much does it take to fill this belly now, Stiles?

“Why don’t - ah” Stiles moaned, leaning further back in his chair as Derek started mouthing at Stiles’ sensitive underbelly. “Why don’t you order some food and I’ll show you.”

#I have no excuse for this.#fat!Stiles #day6 #chubtober #sorry this is barely edited...

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bamby0304 · 6 years

Text

The Hart II: Highway

Summary: Off on her own, without the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen or Jo, Lizzie tries to get back to what she does best... hunting. But time is running out, Dean’s soul is on the line, and now everyone knows Lizzie is psychic like Sam. Can the brothers and Lizzie work through their problems? Or will they lose everything?

Bamby’s Masterlist The Hart Masterlist The Hart II: Highway Masterlist

Part Three: Surprise

Warnings: Nope...

Bamby

EPOV

Smile on my face, I lifted my hand and knocked on the door in front of me. It had been a few weeks since I'd finished the case with Bobby and the Winchesters. Since then, I'd found some anomalies in a town I'd been driving through. Two fathers and a baby sitter had died in the same week. All of them home accidents.

I'd been planning on just driving through town, but there was something telling me to stay and check the place out. Which is why I was here, at the front of some lady's house, a flyer in hand.

The door opened, revealing a young woman a few years older than me, with dark, thick, long hair and large, gorgeous brown eyes.

"Hi?" She looked at me confused.

"Hi." My smile widened as I lifted the flyer. "I heard you're looking for a sitter?"

"Oh. Yeah. Yes." She nodded, smiling back at me. "I'm Lisa Braeden." She offered me her hand.

"Elizabeth Hart." I reached forward to shake her hand with my own. "But please, call me Lizzie."

DPOV

I walked into the diner where Sam sat at a table, on the phone and his laptop in front of him. As I reached him, he quickly hung up and closed the computer, which I found a little suspicious.

"Hey." He tried to act casual as I sat across from him.

"Who was that?" I nodded to his phone.

"Oh, I was just ordering pizza."

I looked around us. "Dude, you do realise you're in a restaurant?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, oh, yeah. I just felt like pizza, you know?"

"Okay, Weirdy McWeirderson." Placing my newspaper on the table, I opened it up to a possible case. "So, I think I got something."

"Yeah?"

"Cicero, Indiana." I turned the paper to show him. "Falls on his own power saw."

He grabbed the paper and gave it a quick read before turning to me, a little unsure. "And? What, that's it? One power saw?"

"Well, yeah." I shrugged.

"And you think that this is a case?"

"Well, I don't know. Could be."

"I don't know, Dean-"

I cut him off, dropping the act, "All right, there's something better in Cicero than just a case."

He grinned, no doubt knowing where this was going. "And that is?"

"Lisa Braeden," I answered simply, smiling widely at him.

He chuckled, dropping the paper. "Should I even ask?"

"Remember that road trip I took eight years ago? You were in Orlando with dad wrapping up that Banshee thing."

"Yeah, yeah. Five States, five days."

"Well, kind of. I spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden's loft."

He scoffed. "So, let me get this straight. You wanna drive all the way to Cicero just to hook up with some random chick?"

"She was a yoga teacher. That was the bendiest weekend of my life. Come on, have a heart, huh? It's my dying wish."

"Yeah, well, how many dying wishes are you gonna get?"

"As many as I can squeeze out," I answered without missing a beat. "Come on. Smile, Sam. God knows I'm gonna be smiling after twenty-four hours with Gumby girl." We both chuckled. "Gumby girl. Does that make me Pokey?"

I'd dropped Sam off at a hotel before coming over to Lisa's. Standing on her front porch, I lifted my hand and knocked on the door. As I waited, I looked over my shoulder at the balloons on the mailbox, wondering what they were doing there.

The door opened. I turned to see Lisa looking as gorgeous as she had all those years ago.

It took her a moment, but when she realised who I was she smiled, her face beaming. "Dean!"

"Lisa. How's it going?"

"Wow." She gave a light laugh. "So how long's it been?"

"Eight, going on nine years now." I nodded, still giving her a charming smile. "Crazy, right?"

"Yeah. So… what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just... I was just passing through, and I couldn't resist." I shrugged. "I remembered that you love surprises."

"Yeah. Dean Winchester. Wow, just wow." She laughed again. "I'm sorry. You kind of came at a bad time. We're having a party."

That piqued my interest. "Party? Well, I love parties."

A kid's party. A party full of kids. Kids everywhere.

What the hell?

Sure, I liked kids. But this was not what I'd been expecting when I decided to come see Lisa again. I certainly hadn't thought she'd be a mum, but by the looks of things, she wasn't just throwing this party for the neighbourhood.

"So, who's the party for?" I asked as we stepped into the back yard.

"Ben." She smiled. "My son."

"Oh, you have a...?"

"Yep." She gestured over to some people sitting at a table. "That's him."

I looked over to see a kid with short, dark hair in jeans, a black shirt and a jacket grinning as he unwrapped a present which turned out to be a CD.

"Yes! ACDC rules!" He turned to the woman next to him. "You're so awesome!"

Looking to the woman, I tensed. Liz?

She smiled down at the kid, ruffling his hair. "Happy birthday, kid."

Watching the scene in front of me, I decided to ignore Liz for the moment as I turned to the kid again. There was something about him, something familiar...

"How old-"

"Eight," Lisa cut me off to answer my unfinished question. "Could you excuse me a minute?" Without waiting for an answer, she was off.

I kept watching the kid, wondering. It had been just over eight years since I'd seen Lisa. This kid was eight. He dressed like me, looked like me, had the same taste in music as me… could he be? Was he my son? Did I have a son I didn't know about?

As I pondered the thought, Liz looked up, her eyes meeting mine. As much as I couldn't stop wondering about the kid, I also couldn't stop looking at her.

She wore her usual red leather jacket, but instead of jeans, a tank top and boots, she wore a grey dress the fell just above the knees and clung to her, and brown sandals, with her hair falling down her back. She looked relaxed, and casual, and as good as she always did.

Yeah, sleeping with Lisa is clearly not gonna happen.

EPOV

I walked over to the table where Lisa and I had set up the food for the party. I'd noticed Dean the moment he'd walked out of the house with Lisa, but waited until she went back into the house and he moved to the food, before I went over to talk to him.

Dean was looking down at the cake on the table, grinning at the little cars on the frosting road.

"I made it," I told him as I stopped on the other side of the table.

He looked up, surprised that I was talking to him and that I'd made the cake. "You made this?"

"Yeah." I shrugged, grabbing the knife to cut a slice. Putting it on a plate, I handed it over. "It's chocolate. Can't have a kid's birthday party without some chocolate."

Slowly, he began to relax, returning my smile with one of his own. "So, you like kids and can bake? Always something knew to learn."

"I'm a never-ending list of surprises." I grinned.

Things still weren't good between us. I knew he didn't know why I was so upset, and I'd rather it stayed that way. But just because things were a little rough right now, didn't mean I hated him. He was my friend. I loved him and Sam like family. So being able to act friendly with him right now, to act normal, it was nice.

Movement over his shoulder caught my attention. I looked over, seeing two mum's whispering to each other as they glanced over at Dean every now and then.

"You've got some fans, I see." Speaking to Dean, I gestured to the women.

Looking over his shoulder, he found them smiling at him. "Hi." He gave them a charming grin.

"Hi." The dark haired one looked like she could barely breath.

While the red head looked like she wanted to eat Dean alive. "Hello."

Chuckling, I shook my head and walked around the table to stand next to Dean. "You wanna meet the birthday boy?"

"Uh… yeah, sure." He nodded, tearing his eyes from the mums as he followed me over to the Moon bounce.

Ben was leaning against the fence, watching the kids, waiting. He was a cool kid. We'd gotten along in an instant. He was funny, smart, and cool. So cool. Coolest kid I knew. I mean, what eight-year-old is obsessed with my Chevy Camaro, loves classic rock, dresses like he's some kind of badass and is totally chill with everything? He was the best.

DPOV

"Hey, bud." Liz smiled at him, offering the plate of cake she'd gotten for him. "Got you an extra big piece. Don't tell your mum." She winked.

Bed grinned up at her. "Thanks Liz."

I looked from the kid to Liz. Only I called her that. I'd never heard anyone else call her that...

Ben glanced up at me. "Who's the guy?" he asked her.

"Ben, this is Dean. Dean, this is Ben."

"He your boyfriend?" The kid actually had the nerve to stand up straighter and size me up.

Liz laughed. "No. Just a friend."

"Cool." Ben shrugged, a little more relaxed now that I wasn't a threat, apparently. The kid had a crush. But who could blame him? "What's up?" he asked me.

I shrugged back. "What's up with you?"

"Lizzie?" someone called from inside the house.

"Oh, uh, I gotta go." Liz smiled down at Ben. "Keep an eye on Dean for me, okay? He tends to get himself in trouble," she told him. Turning, she grinned at me before walking off.

Both Ben and I watched her walk away, our eyes following her until she disappeared. Once she was gone, without even realising it, we both took a piece of our slices of cake and ate it.

"So, it's your birthday," I noted, trying to start a conversation.

"Guilty."

"It's a cool party."

"Dude, it's so freaking sweet. And this Moon bounce? It's epic." The way he spoke, he was so excited but so cool about it as well.

"Yeah, it's pretty awesome," I agreed.

"You know who else thinks they're awesome? Chicks." He punched my arm. "It's like hot-chick city out there." Putting his plate down on the table next to him, he then hurried off to the Moon bounce. "Look out, ladies, here comes trouble."

I stood there for a moment, doing the maths and how much the kid was like me...

Spinning around, I bumped into a trash can as I hurried for the house, needing to find Lisa to get some answers.

Walking into the house, I found Lisa watching one of the mum's leading her daughter out of the house. I could tell, just by looking at the scene, that things were tense and something was clearly wrong. But it was none of my business, so I wasn't going to push for answers, just as long as Lisa was okay.

"Hey." I walked over to lean on the kitchen bench by Lisa. "So, I met Ben. Cool kid."

"Yeah." She nodded, but here attention was still on the other mother.

"You know, I couldn't help but notice that he's turning eight," I hinted. But when she just looked confused, I went on. "You and me. You know..."

She laughed, moving to check the oven. "You're not trying to ask me if he's yours?"

Seeing her reaction, I quickly tried to reassure her. "No, no, of course not." But I knew that not knowing would kill me, so I had to ask, "He's not, is he?"

Slamming the oven closed, she turned to me. "What? No." By the look on her face, I wasn't sure if that was the truth or if she was keeping the truth from me.

But I knew better than to push, so I simply nodded. "Right." Changing the subject, I gestured to where the mum and daughter form before had left. "Something wrong with your friend?"

"She's been through a lot. Her ex just died in this horrible accident."

Pushing off the bench, I wondered if this accident was the same one that Sam and I were meant to be looking into. "Didn't I read about that? The power saw?"

"Yep." She nodded, voice soft, clearly upset. "I guess there's been a lot of bad luck in the neighbourhood lately."

This caught my attention. "What kind of bad luck?"

SPOV

I sat at a diner, on my own, researching, again. I was in my own little world until someone came to stand by my table. Looking up, I found it was the woman who'd saved me the other week.

She sat on the chair across from me, smiling. "Hello, Sam."

"You've been following me since Lincoln," I noted, tensing up, getting ready for anything. I didn't know or trust this girl, despite the fact she'd saved my life.

She closed my laptop. "Not much gets by you, huh?" Reaching over, she grabbed one of my fries and took a bite out of it. "Mm," she groaned in pleasure. "These are amazing. It's like deep-fried crack. Try some."

Ignoring the fry talk, I looked around to make sure no one was listening before leaning forward and speaking in a low voice. "That knife you had, you can kill demons with that thing?"

"Sure comes in handy when I have to swoop in and save the damsel in distress." She grabbed the small plate the coffee mug had sat on, then grabbed the ketchup.

"Where'd you get it?"

"Skymail," she answered, squeezing a ridiculous amount of sauce onto the plate.

"Why are you following me?"

She smiled, finally giving me an answer I could believe and work with. "I'm interested in you."

"Why?"

"Because you're tall." Dunking the fry in the sauce, she then took another bite and continued to answer my question, "I love a tall man. And then there's the whole antichrist thing."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, generation of psychic kids. Yellow-Eyed Demon rounds you up, Celebrity Deathmatch ensues, and you're the sole survivor."

"Elizabeth survived as well," I countered. "She's still alive, and can actually use her powers. I can't. Besides, how do you know about all that?"

"I'm a good hunter." She shrugged, grabbing another fry. "And I'm not here for Elizabeth. Yellow Eyes had big plans for you."

"Had being the key word."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah." She nodded. "That's right. Ding-dong, the Demon's dead. Good job with that. But it doesn't change the fact that you're special. In that Anthony-Michael-Hell ESP-vision kind of way."

"Nope. None of that stuffs happening anymore. Not since Yellow Eyes died." It was the truth.

Actually, I thought that would be the case for Lizzie too, but when I saw her use her abilities the other week, I'd wondered if it was because of Meg's blood. She was the only one of our kind to have a recent dosage…

"I'm thinking you're still a pretty big deal." The woman shrugged. "I mean, after all that business with you mum."

Anyone saying anything about my family got my attention and made me put up my defences. But to hear this strange woman speak as if she knew some kind of secret, that had me on edge.

"What about my mum?"

"You know, what happened to her friends." She noticed when I tensed my jaw, having no idea what she was talking about but also getting pissed that she knew something I didn't. "You don't know. You've got a little bit of catching up to do, my friend." Reaching over, she grabbed my hand and pen before she began to write on my palm. "So why don't you look into your mum's pals, and then give me a call and we'll talk again." She finished writing and stood up, smiling at me.

I looked down at my palm, reading the phone number she'd written down.

"And by the way, you do know there's a job in this town, right?" she told me before turning around and leaving.

Just as she left my phone began to ring.

"Hello?" I answered it.

"Dude." It was Dean. "There is a job here."

I looked over to the door where the woman had left, wondering how she would have known that and why should told me instead of doing it herself. "Really?"

"Yeah. You know that one freak accident we read in the paper? Turns out there's four more that never even made the paper. All in this Morning Hill gated community. People falling off ladders, drowning in Jacuzzis all over the neighbourhood."

"That is weird."

"Yeah, something's up. Something these nice big gates can't protect them from. Oh, and guess who's already working the job?"

EPOV

I sat outside in the backyard of one of Lisa's friend's house. She'd lost her husband recently. He'd fallen off a ladder in their back yard while changing one of the outdoor light bulbs. Being the babysitter for one of the friendlier mums meant getting people to trust and talk to me was pretty easy.

Karen- the mum- walked out of the house, having just answered the front door. The person who'd been out the front was right behind her. The person being Sam, dressed in a suit, undercover.

"Once again, I'm very sorry to disturb you. We just wanna expedite that life-insurance policy," he told Karen.

"Of course." She nodded as she turned to me. "Uh, Lizzie, you don't mind do, you? I'll just be a moment."

Offering a kind smile, I shook my head. "It's fine."

Sam looked over to me for a moment, an understanding passing between the two of us. He knew I was on the job just like him. He also knew that I would know more than he did. I could tell, he wanted to work together, just like the good ol' days. Chances were, I'd go with it too. I'd always had a hard time saying no to Sam.

Karen- oblivious to the silent message sent between Sam and I- showed him to the ladder where he husband had fallen. "This is where he fell."

"I see." Sam moved closer to the ladder. "Now, how exactly did he...?"

"He was just inside, changing a light bulb. Must've lost his balance."

"Were you here when this happened?" Sam asked.

"No, I was out," she answered. "The only one here was our daughter, Dakota."

I watched Sam as he did a scan of what he could see of the house. His eyes landed on the same thing I'd noticed the moment I arrived. Some kind of red mark was under one of the windows. It appeared to be blood, but we couldn't be sure.

Standing in that window now was Dakota. She watched Sam and I with a look in her eyes as if she wanted nothing more than for us to go, and she was willing to do whatever it took. It honestly scared the crap out of me.

"Okay, well, I think that's all I need." Turning back to Karen, Sam got back to business. "I'll get out of your way now."

She nodded. "Thank you." Turning around, she went to walk off when Sam noticed something on the back of her neck.

I'd seen it as well, when I first got here. It was some kind of bite, but all so a bruise like something had sucked on the skin. I had no idea what it was, but it was a clue.

Sam looked to me again, yet another silent message being passed between us.

Understanding, I got to my feet and smiled at Karen. "Look, I should probably head off, too. Maybe we can catch up later?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, of course." She rested a hand on my arm. "Thanks for coming by to check on us, Lizzie. You're too sweet."

"Please, anything for a friend of Lisa's." I then gestured to Sam. "I'll show him out. You go make sure Dakota's okay."

"That'll be great, thanks." She gave me a small smile as she then walked off.

Sam and I headed for the front door to leave. We didn't say a word until we were on the front porch, heading to my car.

"You get a taxi here?"

"Dean had the car," he answered.

"You staying at Cicero Pines Motel?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yep." I pulled my keys out. "Got nothing better to do, so why don't I drop you off? Then I'll get back to work."

He laughed lightly then. "Dean told me you're a babysitter. Also told me the kid has a crush on you. And that he thinks the kid might be his."

"Wait..." I came to a stop. "What?"

"Yeah." Sam stopped as well, going on, clearly not seeing my confused face. "He hooked up with Lisa eight or so years back. They spent an entire weekend together. That's why we're here. Because, you know, the deal."

I just rolled my eyes. "Right. The deal." Sighing, I continued for the car.

If I was being completely honest, now that I thought about it, Ben could be Dean's. There were so many similarities between the two of them. I'd even say Ben was practically a mini Dean. The way he dressed, spoke, even ate. All his likes and dislikes...

Oh my God...

DPOV

I was heading for my car when I noticed Ben sitting on a bench in the park alone. I thought about leaving, but when I saw how upset he looked, I found myself walking over to him.

"Hey, Ben."

He looked up at me. "Hey. Dean, right?"

"Yeah." I nodded, moving to sit next to him. "So, where's your mum? Or Liz?"

"Mum's busy cleaning up the house. Liz is getting ice-cream," he answered, looking down at a leather pouch he held in his hands that sat on his lap.

"Everything okay? Something wrong?" I asked, but he simply shrugged. I looked to the pouch and then around the park, seeing a group of four kids crowded together as one played on some kind of game. "That your game they're playing with?"

Ben answered, but didn't look up as he spoke. "Ryan Humphrey borrowed it. And now he won't give it back."

I shifted to get up. "You want me to go-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he grabbed my arm to stop me from going. "No. Don't go over there. Only bitches send a grownup."

I was surprised, amused and impressed by the kid. "You're not wrong."

"And I'm not a bitch," he assured me, letting go of my arm.

I laughed. "Is that Humphrey? The one who needs to lay off the burgers?" Ben grinned and nodded at my question. "Hmm... well, here's what you gotta do."

Bamby

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youngwidowofbrooklyn · 7 years

Text

I have no clever title for this one.

Okay, so, perhaps it’s not surprising that I’m writing this evening. And I’m sure you won’t raise an eyebrow upon learning that I’ve already had a few glasses of wine and just poured myself a double vodka cocktail. Perhaps this is all an inevitable sequence of events. But let me assure you, I’ve been outlining this post long before the drinks began flowing this evening. Maybe the drinks just limber my fingers up a bit.

My first “official” Valentine’s Day (meaning: one where I actually had a boyfriend) came when I was 20 years old. I was so excited to finally be admitted into the exclusive club of adults who celebrated (and flaunted) their romantic love on a special day every year that I had an older co-worker at the dry cleaners where I worked buy a six pack of Heineken for me. I didn’t (and don’t really) drink beer, and all I knew was that Heineken sounded (and was priced) like a fancy beer. I ordered a pizza....either from Pizza Hut or Domino’s....and rented a serious indie film from Blockbuster and headed home to my 3 bedroom mobile home, in a trailer park on the edge of town, and excitedly waited to surprise my boyfriend with my romantic Valentine’s Day offerings.

I waited. And waited. And when he finally showed up, he was distraught. His older brother had been found. Dead. Suicide. Engine running, garage door shut. Bam.

That was the beginning and end of my excitement over this stupid fucking Hallmark-created holiday.

My husband was not a romantic, by nature. We never made a big deal out of this day, and it was always okay. We were happy. It was enough. But Jesus fucking Christ, try as I might, I can’t recall a single Valentine, a single gift, not one memory of some small gesture made on this date in years past. And somehow, that’s making me sadder than I’ve been in a while.

My mistake, I think, was in thinking that things are getting “better,” when, in fact, I know that they don’t. They change. They get duller around the edges, but even as time stretches on, there are still new, sharp and unexpected patches to be found.

It’s possible that I’m feeling hypersensitive as I’m now on Day 5 of hanging out with a sick child. Sniffly and coughy all weekend. Then, a mere 3 hours after I sent him off to preschool Monday morning, and possibly as a punishment for feeling so ecstatic to have him out of the house and some time to myself, I got the call that he’d thrown up and I needed to get him. Once I got him home, he threw up again, all over himself, a blanket, and our new couch. The rancid smell of chocolate, bile and kidsick stuck in his hair, on my clothes....every fucking where.

Stir crazy as we were today, I drove us around town, going from meaningless errand to time-wasting activity. All through the city I saw vans filled with floral and balloon arrangements, men carrying roses and candies, stuffed animals, couples holding hands. And every fucking one made me feel angrier and lonelier.

Or perhaps it has something to do with the fact that this week another acquaintance of mine got inducted into this horrible fucking club that I belong to. Different circumstances. Someone I know from the playground circuit. Little girl, a bit older than my boy, but one I was always thankful to see because I knew this child would grab my son by the hand and look after him at the park with the care of a doting older sister and give me a few minutes to think and breathe on my own. Her mother, not a friend, exactly, but a comrade in some ways. Faced with a tough decision. A father I’d seen around, but didn’t know. Not so young as to be shocking, but not so old as to be outside of the general “hip dad” category. Another family of three, strike one, family of two. Fucking shit.

Or maybe there’s something about this day that makes me wish that I would have gotten at least one with the man who fathered my child - ONE - where we booked a sitter and went out on Valentine’s Day, not because we were so excited to celebrate, but because it was an excuse to break up the monotony of being parents. ONE where we sat at a restaurant, exhausted from our week and really just wanting to crawl into bed, not for sex but for sleep, but instead we sit and we talk about unromantic things like what are we going to do about how defiant our son has gotten? Can you believe how good he is at math and spelling? Should we have another baby? Should we get dessert? What time do you have to get up tomorrow?

One. I would’ve just liked to have one of those boring, completely forgettable Valentine’s Day dinners.

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ideahood58-blog · 5 years

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Catherine Lowe from ‘The Bachelor’ used to be a vegan food blogger

When Catherine Giudici saw Sean Lowe on Emily Maynard’s season of “The Bachelorette” via her TV, she was smitten. A year later, the Seattle native landed a spot on “The Bachelor” as a contestant competing for Sean’s heart. For her introduction, producers wanted her to ride in on a unicycle. Instead, she exited the limo, walked up to the man of her dreams and said, “Meet me inside for a dance” — something she now finds embarrassing considering nobody’s dancing in the California mansion.

10 Reasons Married People Live Longer

“My first impression of her was, she’s super cute and kind of giggly,” Sean told The Daily Meal during a recent press opportunity as part of an upcoming Subway promotion. “She had this energy about her where I knew I wanted to spend more time with her. I want to hang out with this girl. I don’t know much about her, but I want to hang out with her.”

The Lowes have been happily married for five years now, living in Dallas with their two sons, 2-year-old Samuel and 8-month-old Isaiah. While the baby’s primarily eating pasta (because it fills him up, which makes him sleep longer), Samuel has an appetite for whatever’s on the menu for Mom and Dad. Catherine commandeers the kitchen though, while Sean promises a trade-off of doing the dishes.

“I love to experiment with anything we have in our pantry or in our fridge,” Catherine said. “I’m always trying to think of, like, how to make it into something. So I always have to find a protein, a carb that goes with it and then a vegetable.”

Filipino, Italian and Thai foods made from scratch are just a few of her culinary specialties. Prior to her career as a graphic designer, the now 32-year-old worked in a Thai restaurant and blogged about vegan fare for the The Seattlite.

“Really any food is so exciting to me because the seasoning is so different for every cuisine and it just gets me so excited,” she said. “I love talking about food, I love making food and he [Sean] loves eating food.”

What he doesn’t love is picking up all the sticky rice Samuel spills on the floor, he says with a laugh. Every Saturday morning, the father-son duo have a sweet tradition of walking down the street to Top Pot for apple fritters and chocolate and blueberry cake doughnuts. Coincidentally, the bakery launched in Catherine’s hometown of Seattle before expanding to Dallas.

As far as date night goes, the couple enjoys going out for casual Tex-Mex or a nice dinner at a steakhouse. They both like their meat cooked medium-rare. Anything above that “is a sin,” Sean jokes. Ideally, the meal would end with a warm chocolate chip cookie baked in a skillet with ice cream on top.

When they’re just relaxing at home — watching murder documentaries or the Smithsonian Channel, depending on who has the remote — takeout options typically include pad thai or pizza.

“We’re so embarrassing with pizza,” Catherine says, to which Sean reveals, “We order Dominos a lot. I think Dominos is great. Their pan pizza is awesome.”

So what’s on top? For Catherine, it’s mushrooms and olives. Sean is aware his order is slightly controversial. The 35-year-old says, “A lot of people have a hard stance on pineapples, but I’ll do Hawaiian.”

Apart from risky pizza toppings and the fact that they met and fell in love on TV, the Lowes are refreshingly normal. He calls her Gaya (a nickname given by her family) and Mama, and she calls him Daddy — “in a sweet way, not a creepy way,” she insists, because of their kids. The only complaint Sean has about his wife is that if she tries on 10 shirts, instead of hanging them up, they’ll all go on the floor. Girl problems, right? And Sean’s bad habit is that he… uses too many Q-Tips?

“People tell me it’s bad, but I don’t care. I have to use a Q-Tip on my ears every time I get out of the shower. Every time,” he said. “Because I can kind of feel the water in there if I don’t. People always tell me how terrible Q-Tips are, but I love them.”

“How many people are you getting out of the shower with to tell you that Q-Tips are terrible?” Catherine asked, to which Sean replied, “I’ve had a few tweets about my love for Q-Tips and inevitably, people tell me they’re awful.”

Another bad habit, he adds, is that he just won’t let up with the super-cheesy dad jokes, “especially if I can tell it’s just starting to aggravate her. It’s a lot of puns. I think dads enjoy puns, but sometimes I think it just starts to get under her skin.”

Funny enough, Catherine’s familiar with pun usage, too. On Sean’s season of “The Bachelor,” she famously slipped him a note that said, “I’m vegan but I like the beef.” Now, she uses similar sayings on cards made by her stationary brand, Lowe Co.

Anyone who has ever been in a relationship knows that those aren’t real problems. But that doesn’t go without saying there weren’t challenges to overcome after stepping out from in front of the camera.

“She had to give up her life in Seattle, move away from friends, family, work,” Sean said. “Any time you meet in an unorthodox way and you’re kind of melding two lives together, it’s going to bring its own set of challenges, so in the beginning there was a learning curve.”

Piggybacking off of that, Catherine said that after moving from Seattle to Dallas, “you don’t know the people you’re hanging out with, you don’t have a lot of friends in your new city, so there are definitely a lot of factors that can bring about conflict in relationships. That’s why it’s so hard to keep a relationship from the show because you really don’t have anything going for you except your own love, and maybe that’s enhanced because of the circumstances. You’re thrust into this real-life situation and are like, ‘OK, figure it out,’ and you don’t have the assistance that hopefully you would’ve thought you might have. It’s really just about committing, and that’s why we’re together still — because we decided we would be together and that was just the end of it.”

In addition to being committed and overcoming the obstacles that come with great change, both Catherine and Sean are aware of and grateful for how loving and compassionate they are. Sean’s favorite quality about his wife is not her shiny hair, her pretty face or perfect lashes. It’s how big her heart is.

“When she cares about someone or something, she really cares about it on such a deep, intense level,” he said. “I don’t have that, personally. I would say most people, 99.99 percent, do not have the ability to love as deeply as she loves. So that’s a testament to her love, not a knock against me. It’s really, really impressive.”

Similarly, Catherine points to her husband as a genuinely caring person. When they were filming “The Bachelor” together, she took note of how Sean knew the entire production crew by name.

“He knew everybody’s names and was very respectful of them,” she said. “Knowing that’s how a person treats other people — it’s so sweet and it’s like, I look up to that in him. You see that in a partner and you’re like, ‘Wow, you’re a good person.’”

For anyone who’s thinking about sending in an application for an upcoming season of “The Bachelor” or “The Bachelorette,” Catherine says it’s important that it be a supplement to your life instead of banking everything you have on the opportunity.

“You can tell when people want to be famous and when they want all these perks from the show. They might get voted off the first night, then you’re going to be really humble after that,” she said. “So the way I thought of it is, I have a great life. This is just a really fun experience that I’m getting to have and to kind of think of it as a supplement and not as your only way of living.”

Sean’s advice? Just have fun.

“Back when we were on it [the show], Instagram wasn’t nearly as big of a thing as it is now. So people weren’t doing it to make money on Instagram ads after the show, so it’s probably a different beast now,” he said. “But it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You might be able to travel the world and do a lot of cool things you wouldn’t experience otherwise, so just have fun.”

If you are single, but the limelight (and potential drama) isn’t quite for you, don’t sweat it. Sean says to “be patient and try to enjoy the chapter of life that you’re in. Marriage is awesome and it’s fantastic and so rewarding and things like that, but being single has its advantages. I can look back on my 20s when I was single, and I spent a lot of time with friends and it’s just a different chapter and that chapter’s also fun. Don’t be in a hurry to rush to the next chapter. Enjoy the chapter you’re in.”

“Enjoy your family while you can and doing things on your own time, because now, you have to think about the other person, you have to think about your children, and of course that’s amazing, but go be selfish and go travel and experience life,” Catherine added. “It’s so much fun when you get to do things by yourself and have something a little more to bring into a relationship like more worldly experiences and a different outlook.”

To experience one of “The Bachelor” franchise’s most beloved couples in real life, fans can feel the love on February 14 when the pair will appear at Subway’s Ultimate Valentine’s Day Experience from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. at the Omni Hotel in Dallas, Texas. Tickets are currently sold out, but there’s an option to sign up for the wait list for free. The event serves to promote the chain’s Meatball Marinara and Ultimate Spicy Italian sandwiches on cheesy garlic bread.

After the event, the couple literally has no other plans to celebrate the commercial holiday. They just really love food, so the timing and nature of the partnership works. If you want to treat your sweetie to a nice dinner at a chain restaurant, give it all you’ve got with these 20 places offering dope V-Day Deals.

Source: https://www.thedailymeal.com/entertain/sean-catherine-lowe-subway/021219

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bojk87 · 6 years

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Day 1 - Journey before destination

Journey before destination. It is a line I read in a book recently and it certainly rings true for me. So much goes into a trip, all the planning, preparation, packing and effort before getting away from your world and entering another. In this scenario, the other world for us will be the tropical island of Vanuatu, where the sun, sea and cocktails call to us with their enchanting and relaxing vibes.

The alarm rang much as it would any other Monday morning, but instead of being met with the usual eye rolls and grunts of disapproval, this morning met with smiles and nervous excitement. It was the typical rush of getting ready in the morning with a good measure of packing, repacking, checking things and repacking again that took place at our house before we were able to bid our place goodbye for a few days and set off on our adventures.

We squeezed ourselves onto a fairly packed train, me with my packed carry on bag and Michelle with what felt like an entire house worth of contents squeezed into a suitcase. This time though, we were going in the opposite direction to all those other poor suckers out there headed to a sunny yet cold day of drudgery, which made the squeezing onto the train like a sardine all the better.

We got to the airport, found our check in terminal and made our way through the crowds lined up at customs. I have said it before, and I will say it again, there is something truly magical about airports. They are the gates to work and holidays and adventures and many worlds out there, which is why I feel like a young kid every time I go there with a smile on my face and an extra spring in my step! Who can ever know what awaits for them on their worldly adventures?

Typical travellers, after getting through customs and Michelle being stopped for a random bomb check, we proceeded to devour every aspect of duty free and everything it had to offer. I tried on expensive watches that I one day hope to buy, Michelle spritzed herself with expensive perfume and I tasted some brand new whiskeys from Macallan all before 8am had ticked over. Next stop was to make use of some free lounge passes that AMEX was giving out a while back, and who am I to say no to a freebie. With Michelle’s boarding pass stamped to proceed to the lavish lifestyle that an airport lounge offers, I was the next in the queue. She looked at my free pass and said that they do not honour those at this particular lounge, so it was only by the grace and generosity of my partner who sacrificed her other free pass, that I was saved from being denied entry to the higher eschelons of society.

The lounge proved to be better than expected and definitely a far better way to prepare for a flight compared to my usual queueing and milling around for a few hours. I had some questionable looking and watery eggs, deliciously crispy bacon, a small chicken sausage, badly toasted bread from an ancient toaster and what felt like my entire body weight of surprisingly nice baby croissants and all manner of pastries. Not to be outdone by the others in the lounge we had a fair go at some tea, a cold drip coffee which actually wasn’t bad and a few glasses of sparkling white wine because why not!

After consulting with some doctors a few weeks ago it turns out that Vanuatu has malaria, zika and dengue as active diseases, so being super cautious travellers and not wanting to take any chances, we popped some malaria tablets yesterday and now today. Turns out you have to take these bad boys a few days before your trip begins, everyday during the trip and for a week afterwards, so cheers to the next fortnight of having tablets every morning at 10am!

Feeling full, safe and drugged up on protection drugs we took a long walk to our departure area which felt like it was on the other side of the world! Quick phone call to Mum and dad and we were off on our first international adventure together! A very quick three and a half hours of flying was broken up by having the usual mish mash of aeroplane food that pretended to be some kind of beef, a nice lager style beer from Vanuatu called Tusker, and a scrumptious little white chocolate and raspberry cookie before nodding off for most of the trip while listening to some music.

We land in Vanuatu on the tarmac and are greeted by that true and tried tropical island heat and humidity, where the air itself feels like it is trying to make sure that you don’t need a shirt. The trip to immigration is pretty quick, and the time taken to collect Michelle’s bag seems to drag on for about ten minutes before we are able to leave and get the transport to our accomodation. The transport in this case is an old van that has barely enough power to get up a hill when fully loaded, and is actually trying to compete for the world title of loudest yet least effective air conditioning unit.

There are a few other couples in the van with us, and I think we are all slightly taken aback by the sights around us. The road from the airport to the resorts is certainly much more from the developing world than I was expecting with unsealed and incomplete roads, all with a solid disregard for any form of road rules. What really puzzled me was just how many people there were walking around town, seemingly without anywhere to go, or others just sitting by a tree on the side of the road looking at the traffic go past.

After almost an hour of dropping other people off, we finally arrived at our destination which is Breakas Beach Resort. Upon arrival we are given a welcome drink which was a delicious and refreshingly cold mix of guava and other tropical fruits. It was exactly what the doctor had ordered, so we had those as we explored our accomodation. A very high ceiling, thatched roof cottage that has a large bed and some seating is what greeted us in the first room, while the bathroom was on the other side of the cottage and was complete with an outdoor shower. While basic, the overall accomodation seemed nice.

After a quick freshen up, we headed to the resort bar for a few pre dinner drinks and to really welcome in the holiday. Having glanced at the drinks the others were having, we realised that the cocktails were made with ice, which is the silent holiday killer in places like this for those of us with weak stomachs. An executive decision was made to stick to beer, so we ordered up some of those and got the night started. Looking around we were somewhat surprised that the place wasn’t very busy, and that we were among the youngest people staying there, but luckily this is an adults only resort, so there was no chance there was going to be screaming kids running around.

Live and relaxing music started playing while we were having a drink which definitely added to the whole island vibe. We very quickly picked up on a concept called “island time”, which means that nothing is ever done in a rush and happens in due course. Not a bad life mantra, but certainly not the greatest way to run a bar and restaurant. Starving by this stage, we relocated a couple of steps to the restaurant and ordered up some food which in this instance was some bruschetta, a local chicken dish and a tandoori pizza, all to be washed down with some South Australian red wine. The thing that struck me is that the prices of food and alcohol were no different to ones back home, probably because most things would have to be transported here for consumption. Very quickly, what also became apparent was that while the food and drinks were priced the same as back home, the quality of cooking was a step below, which meant that once again I would be glad to eat when I got back home to Sydney.

With dinner and a bottle of wine done, it was time to call it a night after the start of our holiday. Putting the mosquito net on and squeezing in under it certainly proved an annoying task, but thankfully sleep came on really quickly after that. With day one done, let’s see what day two holds in store.

Your traveller and his partner in crime,

Boj and Michelle

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kidsviral-blog · 6 years

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I'm Mending My Broken Relationship With Food

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/im-mending-my-broken-relationship-with-food/

I'm Mending My Broken Relationship With Food

After a lifetime struggling with disordered eating, I’m still figuring out how to have a healthy relationship with my body and what I feed it.

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Justine Zwiebel / BuzzFeed

It’s a late night in winter, and I am standing over my gas stove heating a metal spoon. I hold the handle gently in my fingers, carefully rotating the bowl over the tips of the indigo flames as the pale yellow pat of Smart Balance butter inside begins to liquefy. The sleeves of my oversized sweatshirt graze the middle of my palms and I step on the hem of my baggy sweatpants as, slowly, I pull the spoon away. A tiny drop of hot liquid falls on my toes as I tip its contents over the edge of a plain white bowl filled with sugar. I add flour, some milk, a few drops of vanilla, and a handful of chocolate chips. I stir. I taste.

I take the bowl to the couch, balance it precariously on the edge, and lie down on my side, my fingers the only utensil, pinching stray sugary flecks off the velvet dark gray fabric as The Real Housewives of New Jersey blares on the TV. It’s been nearly three years since a therapist told me I’m a disordered eater. Yet, after one personal trainer, over two years of therapy, three juice cleanses, four gym memberships, 20 pounds lost, 30 pounds gained back, and thousands of dollars spent on healthy groceries and high-end cookware, I am 24 years old and spending another night, like so many nights before, eating a bowl of last-minute, mediocre cookie dough alone in my apartment at 11 p.m. And I hate myself for it.

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Justine Zwiebel / BuzzFeed

I’ve been overweight — or bordering on it — nearly my entire life, at least since my family moved to the U.S. when I was 4. When I was a child, a routine fight between my Hungarian mother and me was over how much I ate for dinner. Propping my elbows on our scratched dining table, I’d watch her petite, pale hands hovering above me, ladling spoon upon spoon of rice on my father’s plate. “NO FAIR, DAD GOT THE BIGGER ONE,” I’d cry out when my own would finally land, unable to grasp why a 5-foot-10-inch, 200-plus-pound Nigerian man would need to eat more than I did. Seconds, for me, were a must. Thirds weren’t unusual.

Growing up in a white, affluent neighborhood in Lubbock, Texas, I was the only Anita in a sea of Amandas, Brittanys, and Tiffanys. I was biracial, brown and round, with a puffy ball of hair that sat squarely banded in the middle in my head. The boys called it a “burnt marshmallow” and “tumor.” Isolated and othered, I began using food as a coping mechanism around middle school, when my parents began letting me walk home (across the street) alone. I’d spend the two hours until my mom got off work by myself. My best friends had “boyfriends” in the way suburban preteens can — notes, stuffed animals, dates at the roller rink on school skate night. I had a gallon of Edy’s chocolate chip waiting in the freezer for me each day.

Eventually, my mom realized I was sneaking food and she started hiding sweets in the kitchen in hopes of curbing my steady weight gain. Instead, I became an expert at climbing on countertops, calculating how much I could eat of something before she would notice, and burying wrappers in the trash. Often, I’d throw away the balanced, nutritious lunches she’d pack me — whole wheat wraps and sandwiches, fruits, veggies, hard-boiled eggs — in favor of pizza and curly fries. “You ate your lunch today, right?” she’d ask cautiously, waiting for the “yes” we both knew was a lie. She was careful not to tie my weight to my worth, but rather reminded me constantly that what I was doing wasn’t healthy. Looking back, I can’t blame her, but at the time I felt betrayed. Though I couldn’t articulate it then, taking those foods away from me was taking away the one thing that made me feel like I wasn’t alone. I was already the chubby black girl; I didn’t want to be the chubby black girl on a diet.

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Justine Zwiebel / BuzzFeed

As I grew older, I prided myself on being good. I volunteered. I got straight A’s. I didn’t drink, smoke, have sex, or do drugs. But I ate.

What had begun as a way of burying my insecurities morphed into a way of self-medicating full-blown depression and anxiety. Food was my salve and my secret. By the time I was a high schooler in Arkansas, where we had moved when I was 14, I was regularly driving through the local Chinese restaurant, eating crab rangoon alone in my car in the parking lot of an abandoned strip mall. Overwhelmed by a laundry list of extracurriculars that I hoped would get me into the “right college” — student council, cheerleading, theatre, National Honor Society, Key Club, jazz, tap, ballet — I ate until I was too full to worry. When I was cast in my senior musical, I ran to my car after last bell and sped up the highway to Sonic to buy Cinnasnacks (think mini-cinnamon rolls, but more gross) and a cherry limeade in the half hour before first rehearsal. I realized what was happening wasn’t normal when I thought more about what I’d eat when I got to my friends’ houses than the time I’d spend with them.

At the time, I tried to figure out what was wrong with me the same way I tried to find solutions to all of my problems as a teen: magazines. Yet, in article upon article, all I saw were stock images of thin white girls with whom I seemed to have nothing in common. I was obviously not anorexic. I never could throw up after eating, though god knows I tried, so bulimia was out. And while my habits were definitely in line with bingeing, which wasn’t recognized as its own disorder until 2013, I never felt like I ate quite enough to qualify. I had a tendency to buy a lot of things on impulse, take a few bites, then throw them away. I once read somewhere that Lindsay Lohan poured water on her food after she was full so she’d stop eating; I’d subsequently watched many half-eaten tubs of ice cream swirl down the drain.

I hoped going to my dream college would somehow absolve me of my lack of self-worth and, with that, my eating habits. Instead, I spent much of my freshman and sophomore years at Brown feeling like a fraud and making full use of my unlimited meal plan by stuffing to-go containers and eating alone in my dorm room.

Eventually, I began seeing a therapist, who diagnosed me with dysthymia — a low-grade, chronic form of depression — and generalized anxiety disorder. I also began seeing a personal trainer. By senior year, my body finally felt like it fit my 5-foot-2-inch frame. I spoke in class like what I had to say actually mattered. Instead of ruminating alone and in doubt, I opened up to friends and socialized. I went on spring break in Florida and took pictures in a bikini for the first time ever. I felt more in control of my life than I ever thought I could. I was finally, finally, happy.

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Justine Zwiebel / BuzzFeed

But, despite my progress, there was one hurdle for which I couldn’t shake my anxiety: finding a job. An aspiring journalist, I had carefully checked off all the necessary boxes — writing courses, writing and editing for campus publications, three internships — but was terrified of rejection. So instead, I joined Teach for America after graduating in 2012, rationalizing it as a necessary experience to one day write about social justice issues. After a few months teaching third grade at a charter school north of Providence, I was miserable. Inexperienced and ill-equipped to handle the needs of my students, I began yo-yoing between jars of baby food that I’d eat as meals and cartons of Chinese food and quickly gained back half the weight I’d previously lost.

So, I finally sought out a second therapist who specialized in weight and body issues.

“The only reason you felt happy your senior year is because you were thin,” she told me during one of our first sessions. It was then when I learned the name for what I’d been struggling with my entire life: disordered eating, in my case chronic enough that it was periodically a full-blown, though unspecified, eating disorder (the distinction between the two is the frequency and severity of patterns). My therapist coaxed me to recognize how my entire identity and self-esteem seemed dependent on what was on my plate at any given moment. She pointed out that even when I had felt my best, I was undercounting calories, considering a couple dozen spears of asparagus or a couple of eggs to be adequate dinners, despite running regular 5Ks at the time. Instead of becoming healthier during college, I had swung from one extreme to the other. Now I was bouncing back and forth between the two.

Yet, as thankful as I was to have a more concrete understanding of what was going on with me, I rejected her theory. After all, I thought, much more had changed that year than just my weight and diet. The real problem was my job. The real problem was Rhode Island. So, I quit and I left. And, like a bad movie on loop, within a few months in New York I was juice cleansing and takeout bingeing, with a job at a fashion magazine where I was thankful for a cubicle so that that no one could see me inhale the finest Midtown’s hot buffet delis had to offer. Then, for a host of reasons, I quit that job after half a year and spent my “funemployment” obsessively looking for another one, watching all of Breaking Bad, and ordering Seamless at midnight.

Pause. Play. Rewind. Repeat.

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Justine Zwiebel / BuzzFeed

I’m now nearing the end of my second year in New York, and by and large my life has begun to stabilize. I’ve moved out of a claustrophobic apartment I shared with roommates when I first got to the city into one of my own, and have both a job and a boyfriend I love. I cook more and, overall, eat much better, often Instagramming the meals I’m most proud to have made.

And yet — two weekends ago, I visited my parents in Arkansas, and it went badly: My boyfriend and I were fighting, the flights were changed because of bad weather. Exhausted, I spent much of my airport layover on the way back to NYC agonizing over what to eat, wanting nothing more than to drown myself in a combo plate at the King Wah Express, yet ultimately settling on a sensible salad from the glaringly obvious sensible salad place (“green to greens…” “earth fresh…”). The canned salmon was too pale, the dressing too much like something out of a Kraft bottle, and I was too aware of being the overweight woman eating a salad. I pushed it over to the side and grabbed my wallet. After another lap around the food court, I was back in front of King Wah Express.

“How much is just a side of lo mein?” I asked the woman behind the counter.

“$4.99.”

It wasn’t a lot, but I was frustrated that I’d already spent $13 on something that was going in the trash. I changed course.

“I’ll take two crab rangoon, please.”

I sat back down and ate them my usual way: crispy corners first, then soft, squishy middle full of filling. As I dribbled duck sauce out of individual packets and wiped grease off my fingers, I wondered, like so many times before, if my eating habits will — can — ever really sustainably change. I pulled up the waistband of my leggings, aware of the strings already unraveling at the seams in the thigh and that I’d just bought them a little over a month ago. Packing for this trip was easy; I am at the heaviest I’ve ever been and most of my clothes didn’t fit anyway.

The last time I ate crab rangoon, it was 2013 and I was still living in Rhode Island. After failing to go to the YMCA that was across the street from my apartment, I had purchased a membership at a discount gym in a small town 10 minutes away because, somehow, that seemed like a better motivator than a building I could literally stare at out of my bedroom window. I can count the number of times I went to that gym on two hands and have few memories of it, but I do remember the Chinese buffet that was in the shopping center next door. I went to it twice: one time to eat inside, in a pleather booth near a couple and their annoying kids, the other to eat takeout, in a red plastic Ikea chair in my kitchen.

I can’t believe I am fucking here. Again. I thought, as I thumbed crumbs off the airport table.

But that was two weeks ago.

I’ve come to realize I eat the same way I hit my snooze button every morning: just a little bit more. Tired when I should feel energized, so empty despite being so full. Food is still the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to bed. I still spend much of my time trying to hide just how much I eat it. After nine months in my own place, I’ve yet to buy my own microwave, hoping the lack of ease with which I can heat things will keep me from eating myself out of control. I’ve also yet to find a therapist in the city, an endeavor I’ve embarked on most weeks since I moved here and feel wholly overwhelmed by. However, I’m slowly, finally, acknowledging that my disordered eating — though inextricably intertwined with other issues — is also its own source of unhappiness, rather than a symptom of it.

And now I’m trying a new routine. Today was my fourth day starting my morning curled on my couch, sipping a cup of tea before I reach for the handle of the fridge. Before I leave my apartment, I pack lunch — a proper serving of “pad thai” made with spaghetti squash and shrimp, which I relished making earlier in the week, plus blueberries — in a plastic teal bento box with dorky handles. I feel equal parts embarrassed and ecstatic about carrying it on the subway and into my office, mindful of what my co-workers might think of such a marked departure from the spread of constant, countless snacks I’ve carted to my desk, but knowing after I’ve finished what’s inside, I’ll feel better somehow. This time, I won’t throw it away.

Resources

If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, here are some organizations that have trained support staff available by phone:

National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders Helpline: 1-630-577-1330

Binge Eating Disorder Association Helpline: 1-855-855-BEDA

National Eating Disorder Association Helpline: 1-800-931-2237

Read more: http://www.buzzfeed.com/anitabadejo/confessions-of-a-disordered-eater

#Body Image #eating disorder #essay

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invinciblebutterfly3 · 6 years

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Beautiful Venice! This was our second stop during our 3 Week Trip To Europe. You may be asking, is two days in Venice enough? The answer to that is, Yes! We arrived here determined to discover the most authentic Venice we could, in only two days. And that’s exactly what we did.

Now, when booking your train to get to Venice, make sure that you purchase it for the right stop. There are two train stations in Venice. The first one on the main land (Venice Mestre) and the other is on the island (Santa Lucia). If you are staying on the island, or want to visit, the second one is the one you should book it for.

Once you arrive at the train station, you are at the Grand Canal. I have to say, finally seeing the dream-like canals of Venice was a dream come true. There are tons of taxi boat options that can take you close to your stop, or you could walk. However, if you have heavy bags, this may not be the best options. We were that group with the big bags, but thankfully our hotel was right next to the stop and we didn’t have to walk much.

We arrived at the hotel very early, so we left our bags there and went out to explore the island. Google maps was our best friend during our stay. So make sure you have a phone carrier that will allow you to have unlimited internet connection. But don’t be afraid to get lost here. Just grab a gelato when you do and find a place where you can restore your connection and route.

Day 1

So like I mentioned earlier, we arrived pretty early to Venice from Paris, which allowed us to start our exploring time the same day. We walked around looking for some lunch, so we stopped for a quick pizza. Right across the street we found some gelato. Don’t worry about looking up the best spots, at least we didn’t, because you will find Pizza and Gelato everywhere.

We chose to leave this as a free day to just explore, so we walked around the allies. Some of them may lead to a dead-end, the canal, or some pretty nice boutiques. Take this time to purchase any souvenirs.

Our first day in Venice was actually my dad’s birthday, so we decided to go back to the hotel to change for a nice dinner. We had an amazing dinner at Trattoria Bar Pontini. The food was delicious, of course. After this, you could walk around to find local bars for some tapas and wine.

Day 2

On our second day, it was go time. We woke up ready to walk and explore. We started our morning with breakfast at the hotel. Most restaurants do not offer breakfast, so we were thankful that our hotel included it.

Our first stop for the day was the Basilica Dei Frari. There was a service going on at the time, therefore we couldn’t walk in.

We continued walking and found ourselves at the Ponte dell’ Accademia. The views from here were breathtaking. Take your time walking around and enjoy the free galleries and boutiques.

Then our route took us to the Piazza San Marco. This is the main square in Venice. The area is extremely crowded during the summer, but it was perfect for the time we visited. This place is magical though. Here you will find live bands and tons of restaurants. As for the Basilica, it is free to go in but you may find a long line during peak season. Again, since we went in November, there wasn’t a long line for us. You will need to be dressed appropriately to be able to walk in. Pictures are not allowed inside. At the Piazza, we decided to sit down and eat our quick lunch that we had prepared earlier.

After walking to the Rialto Bridge, we decided to take a Gondola ride. The prices area bit expensive, but how can you go to Venice and not get on a Gondola? Tons of people opt to not do it and decide to take a taxi boat which also takes you around the whole island. But again, how can you not get on a Gondola? lol.

Once we got back to the Bridge, we decided to just continue getting lost walking through the galleries and stores. We waited until it was dinner time and headed to Rossopomodoro. This is said to be one of the best Pizzas of Venice. Needless to say, it was delicious. We then headed back to our hotel to prepare our bags because we had an early train to Rome.

Watch this video of my trip, it includes a few more clips from the visit.

What you should know about your visit to Venice:

Tip # 1: Visit during slow season. We were able to enjoy a lot because we didn’t have to wait in long lines to go into these places. We visited in November, which was a bit colder than expected, but I hear that late September/October, or late March/April are great times to visit as well, less traffic and good weather. Also, keep in mind that things may cost you more when you go during summer time.

Tip # 2: Do not squeeze too many things in. Venice is a great place to get lost in, walking around through the alleys and enjoying the views.

Tip # 3: Prepare snacks. We bought tons of coffee and hot chocolate during our walks because it was super cold, but they were so delicious that we didn’t mind the extra expenses. However, do prepare some snacks and water for when you are out. This will save you tons because it will help you avoid buying something to eat in every corner. Do enjoy the local food, of course. We tried to always get a hotel that included breakfast, and prepared something for lunch, so that all we had to really sit down for was dinner. We also waited to ask the locals what they recommended for us to eat, instead of looking for restaurants online.

Tip # 4: Like I mentioned at the beginning, look for a place to stay that is close to the train station. Get familiar with the map of the area you’ll be staying in and places you’ll be visiting.

Tip # 5: It is also recommended that you contact your Bank before leaving, to let them know that you will be making purchases in a different country so that they don’t block your card. Also, ask if they charge you for using your card, if they have any fees, to see if its more convenient to only use cash. You should still carry a certain amount in cash.

Tip # 6: Try to purchase your tickets early, and when I say early, I really mean early. We bought our plane tickets almost a year ahead of time, and the train tickets we purchased months in advanced. Trust me, this will help you save A LOT.

Tip # 7: The TripAdvisor app was a big help before and during our trip. In finding where to stay, where to eat, and even the places to visit. Also, we purchased a lot of the things we needed for our trip, like our Travel Power Adapter, through Amazon.

Tip # 8: Lastly, be aware of pickpockets, or people asking you to sign anything, to look at something. Keep your bags tight while walking or taking the train or escalators.

There is always more to see, so just do some more research and see what else you would be interested in. But take your time to enjoy Venice. Since we went during fall/winter time, it was a bit cold and foggy. However, the views were still breathtaking. If you go when it is a little warmer, you will be able to enjoy the beautiful colors on the buildings.

I’m not sure if it is necessary to even add that by the end of our visit we had fallen in love with this historic city. From the beautiful canals, the warm locals and incredible food, everything was amazing. It was a short stay, but it was great. Venice was actually one of my favorite destinations on the trip.

Well, I hope that this itinerary and tips for Venice help you during your next visit. And if you do follow it, or take any tips from here, please write me. I want to know how it went for you. Don’t forget to read my Europe Trip post to read more about my whole trip and the other places we visited in Europe. Who knows, maybe you follow our same 3 week route.

So get ready for lots and lots of walking, going up and down a few stairs for the bridges, tons of gelato, pizza, and of course, amazing views.

Here are the recommended Itineraries for my trip:

3 Day Trip to Paris France – Tips and What to do

2 Day Trip to Venice – Tips and What to do

2 Day Trip to Rome – Tips and What to do

1 Day Trip to Naples – Tips and What to do

1 Day Trip to Amalfi Coast – Tips and What to do

2 Day Trip to Florence – Tips and What to do

1 Day Trip to Pisa – Tips and What to do

1 Day Trip to Cinque Terre – Tips and What to do

1 Day Trip to Nice, France – Tips and What to do

2 Day Trip to Barcelona – Tips and What to do

My trip to Venice, Italy (2 day visit) – Tips and what to do. Beautiful Venice! This was our second stop during our 3 Week Trip To Europe. You may be asking, is two days in Venice enough?

#2 day itinerary in venice #explore #first time in italy #first time in venice #italy #things to do in venice #tips for your trip to venice #Travel #travel tips #traveling #traveling tips #venezia #venice #venice in 2 days #venice italy

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aventuramexicana · 7 years

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Semana Santa (Parents Visit)

I am quite fortunate in many aspects of my life. For example, I have a great deal of supportive family and friends. Sometimes those people are also fortunate to have me in their lives, as an excuse to go on vacation 😉

Point is: my parents came to visit me for Semana Santa.

April 11 (Tuesday)- My parents and I met up at the Mexico City Airport and all caught a flight to Oaxaca City together.

Once we landed, we caught a colectivo to Villa Maria, where Maria was anxiously awaiting our arrival. It was really cool to be able to introduce my parents to her. Maria had already told me several times that she was so excited to meet them, and she was very warm and affectionate toward me, as always. I really had missed her quite a lot. She’s such a little (approximately 4’10”) fireball, and I love it.

Anyway, once Maria had given us a tour of the apartment where we would be staying (a two-bedroom, unlike the one-bedroom I previously rented), we set out to get some food. As the one leading the charge, I took us directly to Expendio Tradición. After all, it’s my favorite and I was craving their esquite soup.

April 12 (Wednesday)-

We all went to Pan Am for brunch, and I thoroughly enjoyed my vegetarian sandwich on ciabatta. I have no idea what my parents ate, my attention was strictly on my own plate. Next up, we ambled over to Plaza Santa Domingo, took a photo with the Oaxaca sign, and did some shopping. The sign itself actually stirred up a bit of controversy within the city, mostly among locals who think it’s an eyesore, particularly as it sits in front of such a beautiful building with religious and historical significance. Honestly, I don’t know exactly where I fall in that debate. Sure, it kinda takes away from the majesty of Templo de Santo Domingo, but as an atheist I’m not overly inclined to swoon over religious structures.

In the evening we ate dinner at Zandunga, where I ordered enmoladas, and my dad tried Mezcal for the first time. The waiter brought over salt and fruit and things to accompany the mezcal, probably anticipating that my dad would need something to cut the flavor. I found it charming but my dad’s reaction seemed to suggest that he found it a little patronizing. Like maybe the waiter thought he’d never tried hard alcohol before or something.

April 13 (Thursday)- I accompanied my parents on the same all-day tour that I had taken with Sarah and Julia when they were in town. I hope that my parents enjoyed it. Honestly, it wasn’t such a good day for me, because in the process of switching my things from one purse to another I managed to leave my migraine medication behind. That alone would be concerning, but I felt a hormone-induced migraine coming on before we’d even really made it out of town. Anyway, the first stop on the trip was Arbol de Tulé again, which, as we have discussed before, I find to be fairly overrated. Next stop: the mezcal factory. This stop was another that did little for me, as a non-drinker, and someone who’d already learned how mezcal was made. But it was fine, and maybe even sorta fun for my parents. At least I got to take a photo with a couple of new friends.

Then we were on to the rug making factory which, while repetitive to me, is one part of the tour that I really enjoyed. But then of course I did; I love shopping even when I don’t buy anything.

From there we went to Mitla, which was a zoo. Not an actual zoo with animals, no. I’m still talking about the archeological site, however, given that it was Semana Santa, the whole place was crawling with people. It was a little disappointing because it’s hard to really enjoy or even get a sense of how impressive it must have once been, when your mind is preoccupied with thoughts about overpopulation. Finally, it was lunch time, and I didn’t waste any time loading up my plate with quesadillas, rice, and mole negro. It was delicious and would have been even more delightful if not for my brain feeling like it was in a vice. Now, I admit, recently a few people have told me that going vegan helped with their migraines. So perhaps I shouldn’t have been loading up my plate with quesadillas, but you know what? When you’re in that much pain, you want to eat whatever makes your stomach feel happy. It might not make sense to you, hypothetical person who is not afflicted with migraines, but it doesn’t have to.

Last stop was Hierve el Agua. Fortunately, I had remembered to pack Dramamine, so I popped one of those and slept on the ride up to there. Once we arrived I put on a happy face and set out to take the perfect photo. And guess what? More bullshit. They had emptied the second/lower pool. I think my parents mostly enjoyed it, but it made me really sad that they didn’t get to see it in all of its glory, the way I had seen it with Sarah and Julia. Still, we got a couple of cute photos, mostly due to my mom’s patience and positive attitude about the whole thing.

April 14 (Good Friday)-

In the morning my parents went out in search of coffee while I set out to go to the immigration office, in the hopes of recovering some information that I might need to get a replacement temporary residency visa card. Silly me didn’t even think through that I was trying to do this on Good Friday, in a Catholic country, no less. The office was closed. I headed back to Villa Maria, and packed up a bunch of my things and panicked over how much I would or wouldn’t be able to bring back with me to Oaxaca. In the process of looking for one of the staff members to offer him some stuff, I ran into my former neighbor. She’s great and offered me the number of a local lawyer who often helps out with immigration issues. Which was great. It was such a relief to me to feel like I had some sort of lead. I met up with my parents for lunch at Pan Am (again), and once I’d communicated briefly with the lawyer via WhatsApp, I was largely able to put my stress aside. It was a relief to be able to let that go and enjoy wandering around the city with my parents until my dad grew tired of all of the stops that we were making to look at clothes, and it was back to shopping with my mom.

We got this one really cute photo of my mom posed with a giant statue called El Pescador (The Fisherman). I’ll include the one of myself with the statue to, but my mom’s photo is way cuter.

It was our last day there so in the evening I took my parents to Biznaga, which was a couple of my neighbors’ favorite restaurant, and the one that they took me to when we all said goodbye. There was a bit of a wait because the city was packed with people, but we finally got to sit and eat in their big beautiful courtyard, and it was really lovely.

April 15 (Saturday)-

In the morning we flew to Mexico City and then went to Belmondo for brunch. I had french toast, which was super delicious. I’m obsessed with handicrafts and artisanal work so I follow some artists on Instagram and knew that there was a bazaar in the neighborhood. After brunch, we all went to check that out, and my dad quickly bailed on the activity. Understandably. I did not get my shopping gene from him.

For dinner, we went to Soul La Roma. I had a “veggie” burger, except that the pattie was made primarily of platano. I don’t know quite how to describe it, except to say that it’s delicious. Then for dessert, we shared three flavors of ice cream: vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate.

April 16 (Easter Sunday)- My mom and I went back to that same bazaar so that she could get herself a jacket similar to the one that she had generously bought for me on Saturday. After admiring it for a while she decided she just needed to get one for herself. And of course, I’m not the person you want around if you’re hoping to be talked out of buying something. Especially something like that. I’m bound to say, “It’s art! Where would you find that in the States!? Even if you did, it would cost three times as much!”

We went back to Belmondo, since it was so conveniently located in relation to both my parents’ hotel and the bazaar, and we had lunch this time. My mom and I both ordered the same thing: a grilled cheese sandwich with grilled onions. It was glorious, and my dad could hardly stand to watch us eat because he is so repulsed by cheese. HA.

I showed my parents where I live, which I think is cute, but isn’t really much to show. I’m in a hostel and my room is technically on the roof. We have a shared rooftop patio and from my room, I have my own door to a small balcony. I told my parents that there wouldn’t be much for them to see but they were insistent. I don’t know, maybe they just wanted to be sure I wasn’t living in a crack den.

Anyway, I was really tired from staying up late hanging out with my neighbors the night before, so I called it a day with my parents. They headed back to their hotel, and I had a lazy evening, eating pizza and watching the newest season of Sherlock.

April 17 (Monday)- It was the last full day of my parents' visit, and we’d been hoping to go to the Museo Nacional de Antropologia, but I was clearly not in-the-know, and hadn’t picked up on the fact that most museums are closed on Mondays. Shucks.

So instead my parents and I went on quite a significant walk to Parque México and around Condesa, looking at all of the pretty buildings and things. I read somewhere that Condesa is the "Paris of Mexico". Which is a title that mostly grosses me out, in the sense that I think Mexico is beautiful in its own right and doesn’t need to be compared to anywhere in Europe, but it does help to paint a picture.

We ate at Cafebrería, which is exactly what it sounds like: combination cafe and librería (book store). I’d been there once before with a friend so I was familiar with the place, but my sense of direction is pathetic, and things aren’t always updated clearly online, so I admit that it took some doing to find it. Afterward, I had a headache coming on so I went home to take a nap and rest. Which was a bummer, considering it was my parents’ last day.

In the evening, I met up with my parents at their hotel and we talked about the results of the Boston Marathon as I walked with them over to Pan Comido. I felt like out of all of the places that we had stopped in Mexico City, this was the best reflection of what my life is usually like here. The restaurant is really tiny, generally pretty busy but with a calm atmosphere, and it’s one of my favorite places to go. Not to mention the cookie spot next door. I could eat those lime cookies every day for the rest of my life and never tire of them.

After dinner, we said goodbye, which of course was a little sad, but I know that at least my mom will be coming back before long. She cannot be kept away 😉

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beautyandbraiiiiins · 7 years

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All about me

1. Name: Jackie 2. Birthplace: Chicago 3. Ancestry: Puerto Rican? 4. Zodiac Sign: Leo 5. Biggest fear: getting sick, snakes, balloons lol 6. Strength/Weakness: organized and I work hard at what I love & weakness, not very artistic like my drawings suck lmao 7. Worst habit: biting my nails 8. Favorite holiday: 4th of July and Halloween 9. Ever been in a car crash: yes 10. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher:no 11. What do you do as soon as you walk in the house: Take off my shoes and jacket(if it's winter) 12. Age at first kiss: 14 13. When did you fall in love for the first time: 16 14. Who Is Your Longest Friend & How Long: Samantha & 8 years 15. Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: lose weight and gain confidence, learn to love myself 16. What were you doing at midnight last night: homework :( 17. When was the last time you laughed hard: yesterday 18. Who was the last person that told you they love you: momma bear 19. What was the first thing you thought when you woke up yesterday morning: fuck school 20. Where did you go for your first date and who was it with: I think Red Robin lmao 21. Who’s wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen: my cousin Melissa 22. Who did you see in concert first: Beyoncé and destinys child 23. Who was your favorite teacher: mr gates 24. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day: mom and sister 25. Who do you think about most: my family and Ava and my man 26. Is your ideal occupation? Pharmacist 27. Beer, wine, or liquor? Wine 28. Favourite restaurant? Chick fil a if that qualifies lmao otherwise chillis 29. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Vanilla or nutty coconut from baskin robins 30. McDonlads or Burger King? McDonald's def 31. Fantasy dinner guest(s)? Ryan Reynolds 32. Have you ever been drunk? When was the last time? Yes and shit a while back I'm not a drinker 33. What is the most embarrassing thing you have done drunk? Pee in an alley.... 34. Wonder Woman or Cat Woman? Cat woman she sexy 35. How many pets do you have? 3 36. What would be the first thing you bought if you won the lottery? My momma a house 37. When was the first time you smoked? Like 16/17 lol 38. Who last sent you a text? Coworker 39. Who did you last send a text to? Mom 40. What 4 things would you take to a desert island? Family obviously, makeup, internet, clothes 41. Name the 3 most important people in your life? Mom, Sara and Ava 42. Favorite song? Rn.. clash by alesso 43. Favorite movie? Transformers 44. When did you last cuddle someone? Today 45. When did you last have sex? Yesterday 46. If you woke up tomorrow with no fear, what would you do first? Get drunk and go on a roller coaster 47. What was your biggest worry five years ago, do you still feel the same about it at this minute? getting sick & yes 48. If you could change one law of your country, what would it be? No guns. Period. 49. What relationships have ended? But you can’t let go? Friendships with girls in highs school 50. Where would you take a road trip? Cali 51. How do Mondays feel for you? Ehh they ight 52. If you could spend ten minutes with your ‘hero’ alive or dead what would you ask them? How do you do it mom? 53. Do your practice ‘self love’ or ‘self loathing’? Self love 54. What’s your greatest achievement to date? Getting into pharmacy school 55. What scares you about your future? Not making it or having a family or getting over my fears 56. Why does pizza come in a square box? Why is the sky blue? 57. What would happen if you knew you could not fail? I'd never stop trying 58. How does it feel to be photographed? Awkward kinda 59. If you could erase an event from your mind, which one would you choose? My grandmas wake :/ 60. Do you want your children (if you have any) to be ‘just like you’? Some aspects of me, yes 61. Do you stand for what you believe in or are you pleasing others? Stand for what I believe in 62. If money were no concern, what would you do for the rest of your life? Make sure my family is happy and healthy 63. What are you thankful for, this moment? Being able to pay all my bills and having an amazing family as a support system 64. Do you have same sex fantasies?no 65. If you have had sex in a public place, where? In the garage? In a car ? 66. Have you ever cried during/after sex? Yes lmao 67. Who is the oldest person you’ve had sex with? 21 68. Who is the youngest person you’ve had sex with? 20 69. Would you rather be in a relationship with a totally submissive partner or a totally dominant partner? Dominant 70. How tall are you? 5'1 71. How much do you weigh? 130 72. What color is your hair naturally? Light brown 73. What size jeans do you wear? 7 74. What is your favorite color to wear? Black, nudes, army green, mauve shades 75. Do you have any piercings? Yes 76. Do you have any tattoos? Yes 77. Do you care how other people see you? Yes 78. Do you like sports? Yes 79. How do you feel about age differences in relationships? Not too old but love is love 80. How do you feel about race differences in relationships? Love it 81. Do you believe in karma or fate? Karma 82. Do you keep a journal? No 83. Describe the last dream you remember: my bf cheated on me with Fiona from shameless 84. Describe your favorite dream: winning the lottery 85. Where are some places you would like to visit? Paris, Italy, London and bora bora and Turks and Caicos 86. Any upcoming concerts you want to attend? Lolla and samf 87. What music do you listen to when you are happy? Rap & r&b 88. What music do you listen to when you are mad? Dubstep 89. Do you like to burn candles or incense? Candles 90. What was the last alcoholic beverage you consumed? Beer 91. What are your favorite alcoholic beverages? Margarita or moscato lmao typical 92. Do you smoke cigarettes or cigars? What about marijuana? Cigs sometimes like socially and weed barely once in a blue moon if that 93. Who is your number 1 friend and why is he or she there? Sam bc she's awesome and can keep a secret 94. Has anyone ever mistaken you for a family member? Yes 95. Is there anyone of your friends that you would ever consider having sex with? No 96. Would you ever have sex in the shower or the bath? Yes 97. Have you ever kissed or had sex with someone of the same sex? No 98. Do you think your last ex still wants to be with you? Ehhhh maybe 99. Ever wondered what it would be like dating the same gender as you? Not really 100. What are your outlooks on gay/bisexual people? Don't care 101. How often do you brush your teeth? 2 times a day morning and night 102. How often do you shower? When was the last time you had a shower? Daily and today 103. How often do you shave your legs? Once a week. Not a hairy person lmao 104. Political affiliation? Democratic? Lmao 105. Opinion on abortion? Woman's body, her choice, for it 106. Opinion on immigrants/ immigration reform? Don't wanna get into that 107. Should prostitution be legalized? Fuck no 108. How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? 18 109. If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don’t like and like so many things we don’t do? Bc we have to.. like work 110. What is the one thing you’d most like to change about the world? Judge mental ppl 111. If happiness was the national currency, what kind of work would make you rich? Giving advice and support 112. Would you break the law to save a loved one? Yes 113. If you had to move to a state or country besides the one you currently live in, where would you move and why? Florida bc my dad lives there 114. Why are you the person you are? Bc of my personal experiences and knowledge 115. Have you been the kind of friend you want as a friend? Always 116. Why do religions that support love cause so many wars? Bc they want you to convert? 117. What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you? Do whatever I please 118. Were you happy when you woke up today? Yes 119. What’s a fact about the last person who text messaged you? He's a sweetheart 120. Want someone back in your life? Yes 121. What are you excited for? The weekend 122. Are you scared to fall in love? Sometimss 123. When is your next road trip? Idk 124. What was the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? Homework 125. Do you like to cuddle? Love it 126. Have you ever kissed more than one person in 24 hours? Yes lol... 127. Plans for tomorrow? School and chilllax lmao 128. Do you care too much/not at all/just enough? Too much 129. How is life going for you right now? Pretty decent 130. If you were offered a shot of whiskey right this second, would you accept? No 131. This time last year, can you remember who you liked? Billy 132. Could you stay in the same relationship for over a year? Yes of course 133. If you could have one super power what would it be? Read pls minds when I wanted to tho 134. Background on your cell phone? A lion 135. What are you thinking about right this second? Not wanting to go back to work from break 136. Last book you read? How was it? Milk and honey & super good 137. What is the last thing you bought? Chocolate covered raisins 138. Do you live with your parents? Yes 139. Have you ever been caught sneaking out? No 140. Have you ever met a celebrity? Yes 141. What are you like when you’re drunk? fun and crazy the good kind 142. What are you like when you’re high? Giggles and relaxed 143. Do you want children? One day 144. Do you want a church wedding?yes 145. How many pillows do you sleep with?3 146. Have you ever been scuba diving? No 147. Who was your first real crush? Omgggg this polish guy named prezemek lmao 148. What are you allergic to? Bullshit 149. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? Not ready lmao 150. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? Girl 151. How did you get your name? Charlie's angels, jaclyn smith 152. Name one thing about your body you love? My ass lmao 153. What is your biggest goal in life? To be happy 154. Do you still have feelings for your ex? Ehh somewhat 155. Do you think aliens are real? No 156. What age did you start drinking? 19 157. What do you think of President Obama? Love him miss him and want him back 158. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? Maybe who knows 159. Describe your dream girl/guy? Honest, loyal, creative, easy to talk to 160. Story of your first kiss? In front of my middle school and cried when I got home 161. Story of the first time you made out with someone? It was awkward 162. Story of the first time you had sex? Friends basement -.- horrible but I loved the guy 163. When did you first have sex? Summer 2012 164. First time you gave/ received oral sex? Summer 2012 165. Do you still talk to the person you lost your virginity to? No he's a nut job 167. Favorite fictional character (movie, book, tv show)? Chuck bass 168. How many followers do you have on tumblr? 15,800 What about twitter/ instagram? 1,344 twitter and ig: 2,500 169. Are you friend with your parents on Facebook? Yes 170. First time you thought you were in love? When did you realize that you weren’t actually in love with that person? High school 171. Do you talk to yourself? To remind my self of stuff yes 172. How old will you be on your next birthday? Twenty fun!!!! 173. How did you meet the last person you kissed? Work lmao 174. Do you have any hickies? No 175. Turn ons? Neck kisses 176. Turn offs? Smelly breath 177. What qualities did you get from your mom? Her body lmao 178. What qualities did you get from your dad? His personality 179. How many siblings do you have? 1 180. Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity? Yes lmao

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superfitbabe · 7 years

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Not a single day has passed by with the vision of myself as a junk food vegan prior to my dietary changes. Until now. Me, the most headstrong, discipline and will-powered individual that I personally know, one who lost more than thirty pounds, survived a juice cleanse and exercises 99% of the year, became a junk food vegan. If it happened to me, then it happens to nearly every single vegan newcomer.

The question is, why did it happen to me? The answer is relatively easy, actually! First of all, being introduced to the college lifestyle ignited me to avoid the Freshman 15 at all costs. No Waffle Wednesdays. No free pizza. No late-night beer. No Red bull. And avoiding all of that was darn easy, not just because they weren’t vegan, but because even if vegan options were offered, I couldn’t afford to let myself go at such a time.

My diet was based off of completely whole foods. Lots of vegetables, sweet potatoes, beans, tofu, whole grains, leafy greens, nut and seed products, and some vegan treats that were used as condiments rather than snacks or desserts. My college town in itself has a limited handful of vegan restaurants and options that my schedule never allowed me to visit. Studies kept me on my toes, completely occupied from even thinking about visiting the newest vegan hotspot in town. This path undoubtedly led me to success. However, the anticipation for returning home, the city of vegan abundance, could not be stopped.

Stepping off of the train and feeling my feet touch the concrete of Los Angeles felt like the equivalent of dipping my feet in a warm fish pedicure bath where the garra rufas eat the dead skin, tickling away and away. Nothing felt more amazing. Finally, vegan heaven, I have returned. I instantaneously pulled out my restaurant bucket list and set eyes on the most practical destination.

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Restaurant hopping began the next morning. I drove straight to one of my favorite vegan-friendly Indian buffets and stuffed my belly with the most delicious soy chicken tikka masala, chana masalas and eggplant curry–three times in a row. Inevitably, I dragged myself into food baby mania and got stuck with a Buddha belly for several days. One restaurant off the list, complete.

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The preceding two days were a little better because I ate more fresh vegetables, sweet potatoes and home-cooked meals. However, right after, I hopped back on the fast food wagon and ordered vegan Chinese takeout, which by the way, is always covered in heaps and heaps of salt and oil. Indulging in vegan kung pao chicken was already incredible, but the veggie “chicken” drumsticks was a completely separate sensation in itself. The thickness, chewiness and umami qualities of the “meat” felt so satisfying to bite into and I yearned for more.

Of course, I had to annihilate the rest of the drumsticks for dinner the same evening!

And it doesn’t stop there. I had vegan soy pumpkin-flavored frozen yogurt the same day. Nothing sugar free, fat free, or carb free. Totally full fat, sugar-laden, calorie dense, soy ice cream based froyo with The Lion’s Pack edible cookie dough, dark chocolate gingerbread Bark Thins and Trader Joe’s pecan praline granola. Still regretted nothing.

And let’s not forget my visit to Cafe Gratitude, shall we? If you haven’t read or recalled the recap, I heartily enjoyed the restaurant’s Serene cinnamon roll for my pre-brunch treat. Sure, I could release some off the guilt because I split it with my sister and we had leftovers to take home, plus the brunch components themselves were quite healthy being full of plant-based whole foods. But I could have easily passed.

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Drumroll, if you please, for the grand platter that landed me the title of a junk food vegan: Vinh Loi Tofu‘s vegan nuggets and tofu french fries! As much as I wish they did, the tomato and butter lettuce could not cancel out the oily deep-fried coating of the nuggets as well as the corn syrup from the ketchup. Driving in the windy cold to purchase my food was indeed quite the hike, but after first bite, I had no regrets whatsoever. The nuggets tasted miles and miles better than any other chicken nugget I’ve ever had in my life, plus the tofu fries yielded the perfect texture and flavor with the ketchup and Sriracha sauces, especially when wrapped in the butter lettuce! Any McNugget had NOTHING on these bad boys. I mean, I could say that this meal was packed with protein, but it was also packed with a crazy amount of oil and added salts!

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Wait a minute. The Beyond Burger counts as a healthy meal if you take off the bun, right? Cancels out the Follow Your Heart American cheese, house made sauce and sweet potato fries that I pulled from my dad’s plate, right? No? Well then, that still doesn’t change the fact that upon slicing into the Beyond Burger patty, I was absolutely shocked that the texture resembled the meaty tenderness of actual beef, not to mention that the taste and the flavor scared me out of my pants silly because I thought that I was being fed the REAL DEAL. Same story with the American cheese too!

What prompted me to stop bouncing off the streets of Los Angeles, might you ask? Well, for one, my parents bought groceries that needed to be eaten. But for the other, my taste palette became more and more desensitized as I consumed stronger-tasting and heavily refined foods. What I thought was sweet became duller and I needed more Stevia to feel satiated. My usual level of saltiness experienced the same decline as I upped my salt intake by storm. But most of all, the aftermath of eating such unhealthy dishes gradually hit me blow after blow, whether it was an uncomfortable wrench in my gut or a food coma that lasted for hours.

Yes, I admit that I went a little crazy, maybe a whole lot of crazy. Yes, I admit that I regret going after all of the restaurant food at such a fast pace. Yes, I didn’t like that I started breaking out on my face and holding extra water weight. Yes, I felt quite sick and sluggish after the heavily-oily meals. But no, I didn’t suddenly view myself as a failure of a vegan, let alone a fit and healthy person. I have no qualifications of identifying myself as the “perfect” fit girl or health nut, and I’m about to break a major misconception: health nuts crave junk food too! Heck, most vegans, a ton of which identify themselves as raw foodists, fruitarians, juice-cleanse regulars and whole foods plant-based vegans, still crave junk food! I think anyone would have to be awfully special to have never desired a not-so-healthy meal at least once in their whole lifetime.

Here’s a common question that non-vegans and even fellow vegans ask each other: why do we even crave junk food? Well here’s the deal. All human-beings alike evolved from our Paleolithic ancestors, who obviously did not have the same diet as we currently do today. Everything was primarily based off of whatever they could find in the wild, whether it be berries, nuts, seeds, herbs, fruits or vegetables along with trace amounts of meat and insects. With the agricultural era came the evolution of growing crops, domesticating animals and attempting to produce food for a larger population. Eventually, we hit the Industrial Revolution, which prompted the need for convenient, quick, easy and cheap food, thereby initiating the birth of functional and processed foods, widening the food production scale, increasing the use of quick-working factories, and stretching the consumer’s knowledge of where his/her food comes from.

Despite this dramatic evolution, we humans have retained the primal instinct and sensitivities to hunger as well as the need to satiate that hunger for survival. However, a hunter-gatherer reaching for a piece of fruit in the wild will not experience the same post-meal sensations as an office job-worker reaching for a candy bar. Clearly, one of them will gain a wide array of health benefits and the other a sugar spike. But with convenience and cheapness by our sides, how could we resist a $1 chocolate bar while organic strawberries can cost up to $8?

To put it, I never knew was that one day, I’d become addicted to trying new unhealthy junk foods. Alternatively, the abundance of creative vegan meals in Los Angeles, especially at restaurants, always enticed me to go restaurant hopping every weekend. I couldn’t resist everything: sweet potato fries. Vegan chicken sandwiches on wheat buns. Raw vegan pizza. Dairy free ice cream with sprinkles and caramel sauces. Cheeseless macaroni and cheese. Silky coconut milk ice cream. Pad thai noodles with loads of hot sauce and peanuts on top. All of my old naughty favorites that sounded so good I’d want to cry.

At the end of the day, I, along with many other junk food fanatics, am aware of what I put into my body. On the other hand, I personally have enough knowledge about my health and well-being, and have lived too rigid of a routine full of exercising religiously, stuffing greens in my stomach like squirrels collect acorns in trees for the winter, and have been too deprived of time from studying and working to miss out on anything. By the beginning of my winter quarter, I’ll be back to square one. Hit the gym every other morning. Eat salads and sweet potatoes. Sneak in +20K steps a day. Shove my fist in the air and say: I fucking killed it.

Ever been guilty of falling off the health wagon? What was the most indulgent restaurant dish you’ve ever eaten?

Confessions of a (temporarily) Junk Food Vegan Not a single day has passed by with the vision of myself as a junk food vegan prior to my dietary changes.

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