#my lunch has been two (2) apples and that is just Not Enough
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Some of my favorite easy and fast foods/snacks for $5 or less that aren't ramen and spaghetti:
Couscous. You can get boxed couscous for like $3 and it's enough for 2-3 side dishes at least and takes literally 5 minutes and no extra ingredients. You can get large containers of it for like $5 at Walmart too so you can season however you want. A nice grain that's easy to digest and pairs well with almost anything.
Popcorn. Everyone's favorite healthy junk food that can satisfy most cravings. You can usually get a box for like $4 or a jar of kernels for like $6.
Oats. Whole oats. Extremely versatile. Put them in smoothies, make cookies, granola, snack bars/balls, brownies, oatmeal, etc. Truly the best bland fiber and filler out there. You can even easily make your own oatmilk for super cheap by blending them with water and straining!
Frozen veggies. Last for months in the freezer and usually under $2 a bag. Not great if you prefer raw veggies, but if you are fond of sautéed or roasted ones, save some money and just get them frozen.
Chocolate chips. Cheaper than chocolate bars and you get a lot more chocolate. Perfect for those cravings!
Powdered potatoes. I know I know but if you ignore the package directions and put some butter and milk and seasonings in it, you can't tell. Ready in like 2 minutes and you get a shit ton of mashed potatoes for like $2.
Vegan Mac and cheese. I'm lactose intolerant and so I will forever be thankful for the vegan movement of the early 2010s for making nondairy products easier to find and more affordable. Vegan Mac and cheese literally tastes the exact same and bakes so well. Annie's so far has been my favorite brand and they have other pastas with sauces too like squash which is so good.
Crepes. You can make your own batter for cheap but who likes all them dishes? You can find pre-made crepes for like $3 for 10.
Apples. You can find 2lb bags of these for $3 at a lot of places. I never knew they were so cheap and I go through phases where I'll eat like 4 a day.
Lunch meat. Packs of turkey cost like $4. I use turkey on so much. Bagels, omelets, salads, sandwiches, wraps, croissants, etc.
Ready to bake pastries. I'm not a big bread person but croissants ready to bake have my whole heart and cinnamon rolls can really help make a bad day a little better.
Pretzels. I'm an absolute whore for Pretzels and eat so many of these things. They're so easy to pack for snacks for class or anything really. I can't go two weeks without them.
Rice crisps. Rice cakes are great but they're big and crumbly and get stale if you don't close the bag JUST right. But little Rice crisps??? Elite. They come in so many flavors and are super crunchy and they're just super cute too and they're bogo a lot at publix.
Frozen potstickers. You can get them for so cheap and I have a giant bag of them in my freezer right now that I got for like $7. I usually get smaller portions for $4 or so though but decided to splurge and get 3lbs of them cus why not.
Frozen shrimp. A bag of extra small Frozen shrimp is about $5 at Walmart. Eat them thawed and cold or put them in pastas or rice or Soups. They're a staple in my house.
These are just a few I could think of off the top of my head. Please add to the list!
#study blog#student#student life#studyblr#productivity#school#study hard#studying#school advice#food mention#food and drink#foodie#food#groceries#cheap#save money#frugal#college student
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My Fallen Apple
Lucifer X Reader
Chapter 2
You end up staying in hell a bit longer. Wanting to get to know the real Lucifer better, even against his own pleading! He didn't want you to see how bad his kingdom really was, but you didn't care.
You wandered the halls of his palace and stopped in front of a painting. It had three very beautiful blondes in it. One was Lucifer himself, the other you guessed was his wife, a very beautiful demon of some kind given the horns. But who was the younger girl then?
“Who is that?” You asked, and he looked sad and sighed.
“My wife and daughter. Lilith and Charlie.” You look over at him, noticing the longing in his gaze.
“You said before she's been gone for seven years? What about your daughter?” You regret your words when more pain crosses his face. But he immediately tries to hide it with the fakest, biggest grin you've ever seen.
“Oh, hah! Char char is too busy to spend time with her old man these days! Busy with an important passion project of hers! I'm so proud of her.” The forced cheer was replaced with a note of something genuine in that last sentence. So you picked up that he did love his daughter, genuinely. But there seemed to be distance between them… you kept yourself from asking, you'd made him cry enough for one day.
“Well, do you have a passion project? Something that keeps you busy?” His eyes lit up genuinely, and it was breathtaking.
“Do you like ducks?” …
“I'm.. sorry?” You weren't sure you heard right. Did he really just say, “did you say Ducks?” He blushed and looked away.
“I uh, take that as a no then.”
“No! I mean, I do! I just wanted to make sure I heard you right. I think they're cute!” You couldn't bear hurting him again, you'd say anything to get that sparkle back! He looked back at you, a glimmer of hope hidden behind embarrassment.
“Really?” You nod vigorously!
“Really!” He smiles softly and holds out a hand.
“Then come with me. I'll show you my workshop.”
You take his hand, it's warm and comforting, fitting nicely into your own. He leads the way down a few halls before stopping in front of the door and unlocking it.
“No one's been in here with me since… Well, you're the first in a long while.” Suddenly, you feel a bit nervous. This feels… intimate in a way. A side of Lucifer possibly only seen by his wife and daughter. And now you, too.
He opened the door, and you're immediately overwhelmed by the color yellow! He confidently walks in and you follow close behind. You've never seen so many rubber ducks in all your life! Or death for that matter.
“I… so many…” You pick one up that has a tophat and cane, and it does a little dance in your hands. Lucifer watches, holding his breath to see your reaction. You smile wide and laugh, “oh my god, that's so cute!” He lets out his breath in one loud go, he's more relieved than you can imagine. He then puts on a more genuine grin.
“Well! Then you're gonna love the rest of my collection, they all do crazy shit! Oh, uh, avoid that pile over there though, those one breath fire and have knives and other dangerous things.” He pointed to the far corner. You make a note to avoid those ones and the two of you spend the next hour going over all the ducks he's made…
Except by the time you're halfway through one pile, you realize it's been way longer than an hour! The sun has set and the stars are coming out.
“Oh fuck, how long have I been here?! Everyone's gonna panic! I gotta get home to my friends.” Lucifer's face drops as you say this.
“O-oh… right, you don't belong here. You have a family to get back to… don't you?” He then tries to cheer up, “well hey, thanks for making my day! It's genuinely been the best one I've had in… a- a while.” You look at this sad little duck loving angel, how could heaven ever get rid of such a cutie?!
“I'll come back.” His face lights up with shock.
“Wha-”
“If you'll allow it, I'll sneak out and come visit once a week. We can organize the ducks and have lunch.” He looks at you like you're the answer to his prayers.
And hey, maybe prayers do make it out of hell after all…
“Yes! Please do! I'd- I'd love that! Oh wait, here!” He dove into a pile of ducks, digging around in the squeaking pile for a full minute before emerging with a single green duck with a turtle shell on its back. “For you. It's not perfect but…” You take it with a smile and hug him tight.
“It IS perfect. Just like you… thank you for such a fun day Lucifer. I'll see you in a week.”
He hugs back, and blushes. A week was going to feel like an eternity of waiting for both of you…
But, leave you must. He gives you his phone number and helps you get back up to heaven. Once there, you text all your friends that you're fine, and say you just spent the day alone at home because Adam was an asshole when being rejected, and you needed alone time afterwards. You hoped everyone would believe you and that he didn't tell anyone about what happened.
If they found out you spent the day in hell… Well, there'd definitely be consequences. Like not seeing Lucifer again! And you couldn't have that.
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Waking Lions 2
Find the series masterlist
Remember last chapter I warned you reader is bisexual? Yeah. Also due to her work, reader has multiple nicknames, and we see another nickname in this chapter.
This chapter may feel a little slower but we’re building up to good stuff, I promise!
Once again, speaking in italics is speaking in another language.
Warnings: Swearing, mentioned sexual activity, mentioned events from CoD:MW, spy shit.
Word count: 1.8k
After your business in Turkey was concluded, you hopped on a series of planes to Mexico to go visit another old friend. This one very rarely gave you any kind of intel, but she was fun. So it was worth the trip.
Besides, you were craving good Mexican food.
She even sent a few of her men to pick you up. One took your bags, another held the door open for you into the SUV.
The royal treatment.
The drive was long and quiet. You weren’t overly interested in talking to the underlings, and she had likely warned them to silence anyway. That was one of the reasons you so enjoyed her company. She was smart.
The car stopped, and you waited while one of the men hopped out and got your door for you. “This way,” he murmured in English. Your lips twitched but you followed him sedately.
This time, she’d brought you to a very nice home. Not modest. Three stories, with a good-sized car garage.
This one was new, and idly you wondered when she’d acquired this.
“It took you long enough,” she called in Spanish, walking down the stairs as you entered the house.
“You didn’t invite me for too long,” you shot back, smiling. As always, she was a vision, even dressed simply in a dark top and pants. “Valeria.”
“Marigold.” Valeria stepped down onto the entryway floor, walking up to you. “You changed your hair.”
You smiled. “Every so often,” you agreed. “Can’t let people get too used to one style.”
She chuckled, lifting one hand to trace one finger over the apple of your cheek. “When are you going to come work for me, hm? We both know I can make it worth your while.”
“Not today, Valeria.” This was an old game between the two of you, as old as her rise to power. You may have helped her along some. For the right price. Information helped win wars, after all.
She caught your chin between her thumb and forefinger, holding you steady, searching your gaze. Then she nodded once. “Come. Lunch is ready for us.”
You followed her, unashamedly looking around. “This is a nice place,” you hummed.
“I’m glad you like it, since you’ll be staying here.” She looked over her shoulder at you, amused. “For however long you want.”
“You are a temptress.”
She led you to a table outside, already set for the two of you. This part was easy - you both enjoyed eating and flirting, with nothing of real consequence being said. She always tried to pry just a little more out of you, and you always diverted and redirected. This had been the game for as long as you’d known her.
“I do have work for you, if you’re interested.” Her gaze was heavy-lidded, sweeping over you slowly, warm and familiar.
“Mm?” You leaned back in your chair, folding your hands loosely over your tummy.
“I need to know what the Americans are up to.”
You scoffed a derisive laugh. “The Americans don’t know what the Americans are up to,” you grumbled, waving one hand. “I’ll need something more specific to get you any good intel.”
She leaned forward, hands on the table, chin tipped to hold your gaze. “I need to know how distracted they are.”
You mulled that request over slowly, carefully. You knew her business. She’d known you long enough to give you free reign. Much like Laswell, Valeria knew you gave her solid intel. “Is there a specific department?” you asked cautiously. “Or a specific distraction?”
“I don’t want them to have so much time they begin sniffing around my operations.”
And that, well, that made sense. Didn’t necessarily make things easy, but it made sense. “I’ll need a few days.”
“Standard rules?”
“Of course.”
Valeria smiled. “Well then. Since you’ll be here for a few days…” She stood and took your hand, tugging gently until you stood as well. “I should show you to your room.” Her voice dipped, low and sultry.
“You should,” you agreed, lips curving in an inviting smile.
Valeria tugged your hand, leading you away from the table.
This was one reason why you kept coming back. She just knew how to treat you right.
The fact that she could deliver mind-numbing orgasms was a definite plus, too.
Later, after Valeria left to do some business, you set up your computer. You’d promised to get her some information, after all, and that didn’t just drop into your lap.
Not without some prompting, anyway.
Sources appropriately prompted, you turned instead to the news. It was always good to keep up to date on what was happening - kept you from accidentally wandering into too much trouble. It also gave you time to decide where you wanted to go next, after you got Valeria her information.
The whole world was open to you, after all.
Your research paused for dinner, and then you went right back to it. It had been a while since you’d been to Greenland, and you wouldn’t mind a quieter couple weeks. Then again, Africa had many choices and potential for quiet as well… Decisions, decisions.
You blinked at your phone when it started ringing. Not that many people had your number.
“Yes?”
“Ace.” Laswell sounded stressed. Oh this could not be good. “I need a favor.”
“I don’t do favors,” was your immediate response. Because you didn’t. Mostly.
But Laswell pulled out the big guns. She pulled out your birth name, the one you’d left behind years ago, the one she’d scrubbed from every system.
You went rigid, swallowing hard. “Katie Kate.”
“I need a favor,” she repeated, softer, gentler.
You closed your eyes. Fuck. Fuck! “What do you need?”
“I need you to find someone for me. Cartel.”
“You know I don’t do names.”
“I don’t need a name, I need a location.” She paused and then pulled out her final trump card. “He’s working with Gray.”
You stopped. For a few moments, the world faded to nothing but a pair of gray eyes. Then you swallowed hard. “Should have led with that,” you muttered, hunching your shoulders. “Who am I finding?”
“Carlos Torres.”
“Fine. Am I calling you back with this?”
“No. I’ll have someone meet you.”
“No, not here. I’m not planning to be anywhere helpful to you for at least a week.”
Laswell sighed, short and sharp. “Fine. I’ll provide you with a number for a burner phone, but you won’t get me, so behave yourself.”
“One of these days, you’re going to rack up debt, and I’m going to call it in.”
“Not today.” Laswell hung up.
You let your phone drop to the bed, heart pounding. Twisting, you looked out the window, suddenly feeling exposed and uncertain. Valeria ran a tight ship. She wouldn’t allow unauthorized people here. Not here. It was just your paranoia, you just needed to work it out of your system.
A nice hot shower made you feel more settled in your skin. And screaming into your pillows helped.
Some.
By morning, you were back under control, skipping down the steps to join Valeria for breakfast. You had no idea when she’d gotten back, but she was as immaculately put together as ever, and even greeted you with a kiss to the cheek.
“Sleep well?” Her gaze lingered on your face.
“Oh yes, the bed is quite comfortable.” You smiled, helping yourself to food at her wave. “You really are trying to tempt me into a singular living.” Your grin showed teeth, but it was all in good fun.
“You already know that.” Her smile was a dangerous, glittering thing, a velvet-wrapped dagger. “How long will you be staying?” She switched to Spanish, pouring a drink for you.
You shrugged. “Likely a few more days, at least until I hear back,” you answered in kind.
She nodded once, looking thoughtful. “Do you need to be by your computer all day?”
You blinked, surprised. “No, I’m not expecting anything urgent today. Why?”
“I want to take you riding, see more of the area.”
You waggled your eyebrows playfully. “Riding, huh?” You switched back to English to load more suggestiveness into your tone.
She swatted your arm, light, playful. A teasing reprimand, but still a reprimand. “Well, if you’d prefer to be a brat about it…”
You held your hands up. “I apologize, you know I like to tease. I would love to go with you.”
Her smile had the distinct flavor of a woman who was used to getting her way, and was not surprised when she got it yet again. “After breakfast, then.”
Valeria kept you out all day, showing you around. Showing you off, subtly but definitively. Though she rarely introduced you, no fewer than a dozen of her men saw you with her.
You were a little irked by her gall. A little turned on, too, if you were honest with yourself.
But you still had mixed feelings when you saw that your people had gotten back to you with the information on the Americans. Laswell’s information hadn’t come through yet - if you didn’t hear back in the morning, you’d have to start leaning on people.
Valeria thanked you for the information with a wire transfer and another orgasm. She also somehow got you to promise to stick around for another two days.
You still weren’t sure how she’d gotten you to agree to that.
It took another day before you got a location on Carlos Torres. You waited until Valeria was out of the house again attending to business before you called the number Laswell had sent you.
“You have the information?”
You smiled slowly. “Well, hello again, Captain,” you purred. “What a pleasant surprise!”
He sighed, short and sharp, on the other end. “Do you have the information or not?”
“I do.” You pouted, just a little. “You sure know how to ruin a girl’s fun, Captain.”
The silence on the other end was pointed. Very pointed.
So you gave him the intel, including last known coordinates.
Captain grunted once. Apparently that counted as acknowledgement.
“And, Captain? You should hurry. He won’t stay there long.” You hung up without giving him a chance to reply. Sighing, you rubbed a hand over your face.
Sometimes you wondered if you were getting too comfortable. And sometimes you just wondered about your sanity.
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This kink has really unlocked something in me, because I don't write a lot of smut but this is the smuttiest stuffing I've ever written. Still unbeta'd, we die like Barb. 🫣🫣🫣
There's still a little bit more left to post after this, so stay tuned. I'll probably get antsy and put it up tomorrow.
🔞 Seven Christmases pt. 7
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Home pt. i (2790 words)
rated: T | cw: none | tags: chubby eddie, established relationship, weight gain, belly kink, stuffing, fluff, they’re in love, sugar cream pie, coming untouched
When Joyce offers to let them stay the night so they don’t have to drive home, Steve politely declines.
When Robbin offers her parents’ guest room, Steve shakes his head and says, “Nah, Eddie’s too loud.”
“Oh my god, dingus, I don’t need to know that!”
“Wha—Robbie, no,” he chokes out. “He snores, Jesus!”
Never mind that they are going to get up to things tonight that Eddie will be very loud about, but that genuinely wasn’t what he’d meant. There are still some things his platonic soulmate doesn’t need to know about, for all that he’s told her enough in the past that she can probably guess. (And the only thing she’d ever said on the subject was, “Well, at least with that EMT training you’ll know what to do if it’s ever really too far,” which. True.)
Jonathan helps him load their haul of presents into the car, because Eddie is still stuffed to capacity and laid out on the couch like a beached whale, oblivious to the party still going on around him. Not asleep yet, though it’s only a matter of time. He focuses blearily through the haze of the approaching food coma when Steve comes to get him, movements sluggish but willing, and between his efforts and Steve’s muscles they get him up and out and in and buckled.
Steve helps him crank the seat back so he still has room to breathe instead of being squashed by both the seat belt and his round gut, and takes a moment to admire the sight before him. Shallow breaths, interspersed with little groans and hiccups and burps, whining when anything jostles him even a little, Eddie is magnificent. With the apron slipped off and run quickly back into the house, the entire underside of his swollen belly is on display in a hard arc, both tight and soft as Steve, briefly, allows himself to touch.
Just to provide some relief! He doesn’t cup where Eddie’s underbelly covers his lap. Doesn’t trace his fingers over the red lines still lingering from where Eddie’s pants had cut into him all day, right up until just before the final feast, or where the bottom of his undershirt has ridden up to cling near the apex of his domed stomach, or where the sweater has rucked up even further to escape the swell. Doesn’t lean down to bite, like he wants to. No, he’s good, just offering a quick belly rub to help ease some of the pressure before they hit the road so that any bumps along the way won’t jar this precious cargo.
“Stevieee,” Eddie moans, low and quiet, arching into his hands.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” he murmurs back, distracted by the way his fingers don’t sink into his boyfriend’s fat like they usually can. Rubbing, feeling, massaging, not groping, not… not really.
“Wanna—hic—go home,” Eddie whines, and Steve relents with one final caress over stretch-mark littered skin. He can’t wait to count how many more there are with his tongue.
Eddie is asleep by the end of the driveway, oblivious to their assembled family all waving them a warm goodbye from the porch.
The thing is, while Steve hasn’t been stuffing himself like his (indeed loudly snoring) boyfriend, he’s still been to six holiday get-togethers today. He’s been eating light portions, not going back for seconds… But it was two heavy breakfasts, one heavy lunch, one bowl of leek soup with a limp side salad, and two dinners with two rounds of dessert. Not to mention cookies and candies in between, some peanut brittle, some fudge, some of those apple slices with caramel dip that Mrs. Buckley had sent over with them…
He gives in and unbuttons his own pants while sitting at the last red light out of Hawkins. It feels nice; he can only imagine what it feels like when Eddie does it, that little embodiment of a sigh of relief. After all they’ve been through he just loves that Eddie can have that.
The button from Eddie’s pants still burns a hole in his pocket all through the long drive, the gift tag off his Christmas present, signed to Steve with love.
A hand on Eddie’s (which has drifted to rest on the shelf of his stomach as he slept) rouses him to a sleep-stale taste on his tongue. He rolls it around in his mouth, smacks his lips, trying to clear the funk before he’s even gotten around to opening his eyes.
“Eds, baby, wake up. We’re home.”
Then something bumps against his bottom lip. And because he recognizes Steve’s voice and would trust him with his life (has, in fact, more than once), he opens. Smiles when he recognizes the texture of a sugar cookie from one of the mostly empty tins, and flutters his eyes open. His sweetheart knows that he likes to wake up to something sweet.
“There he is,” Steve murmurs from where he’s leaning into the passenger side, a small grin widening across his handsome face. What a dork, Eddie thinks fondly. He finishes guiding the cookie into Eddie’s mouth and cups his cheek, thumb brushing away some stray crumbs while he chews. “Think you can get up for me?”
Eddie chews and hums an affirmative. For Steve, he can make anything happen.
There’s just… one more thing he wants though, tonight.
He swallows, clears his throat. Lets his hands drift over himself slowly, sensually, testing, and notices Steve’s eyes follow them up and down. “Mm. The thing is, Steve, I’ve gotten pretty full today, just not all the way. Not quite. But it wouldn’t take much.” He draws a slow circle around his half-exposed navel. “Do you have anything else I could eat?”
The words are barely out of his mouth when Steve blurts, red faced, “Yeah, I have something.”
“Of course you do, sweetheart,” Eddie coos happily, patting his belly. His eyes dip down, and there’s an additional flare of heat through his core to see that Steve’s pants are undone as well and, hmm… He hasn’t given much thought to it before, but a little softness suits Steve too. Doesn’t have to be as much as he’s packed on himself, but it’s nice. “Okay then, big boy—help me up?”
Steve practically trips over his own feet getting out of the car and around to Eddie’s side to get the door for him.
What Steve has waiting for him almost makes Eddie tear up, it’s so thoughtful.
Twice a year (Christmas and for Eddie’s birthday), Wayne always made him a sugar cream pie. Eddie knows it’s because the recipe is easy and the ingredients are pretty simple—but he also knows it’s the only thing Wayne ever baked, and he did that for him. Everything else he’d eaten today had been great, but this… this is meaningful.
“I asked Wayne what your favorite dessert is,” Steve explains shyly. “I, uh. I hope I made it right.”
Eddie is already comfortable on the bed, except for the straining clothes he’s still wearing. He leans forward in anticipation with his eyes fixed on the first slice pie and his mouth watering. “Steve, it’s perfect. You’re perfect, my fucking… baking Adonis. Wanna taste it.”
So Steve hands him the plate.
And the first bite is heaven. The familiar flavor, the familiar texture, spreading over his tongue and down his throat and into his already packed stomach. He actually moans at how good it all is, and Steve settles reverently next to him on the mattress, unable to tear his eyes away.
Throughout the first slice, Steve just watches and offers him sips from a cold glass of milk. Eddie pauses here and there to tell him how it tastes, how he used just the right amount of cinnamon sugar on top, how he would happily smear the filling over Steve’s body and greedily lick it all off again. He squirms as he says the last one, trying halfheartedly to get out of his pants without needing to free up his hands, or at least get some friction on his dick. It doesn’t really work, only makes him more desperate, which drives him to scoop bigger bites into his mouth at a time. If he can’t wiggle out, he can settle for bursting some seams.
The second slice goes much the same, only Steve settles a palm on the near side of Eddie’s belly a few bites in. Eddie just hums, accepts another drink of milk, and keeps going, so Steve keeps touching. Follows the curve of it across the tight, churning top, hand slowly alternating between big circles and long ones, until he’s reaching fully across Eddie’s widened frame. The first tentative touch of fingertips against hot bare skin makes Eddie groan with his mouth full. The first full press, Steve’s entire hand on his exposed belly, kneading where he still manages to be soft, elicits a much more lewd, extended moan that ends in a belch.
“Oooh yeah, there baby…”
During the third, Steve moves to kneel before him on the bed and give both sides the same treatment. Eddie sits there, eyes sliding closed as he burps his way through. He just basks in it, concentrating too hard on eating to bother stretching out like a lazy cat the way he kind of wants to under Steve’s touch, feels so loved and worshiped. The piece of pie goes down faster in the face of that devotion (and the space it frees up).
Partway into the fourth, Steve slides the tips of his fingers under Eddie’s stretched-out undershirt. Inches it up slowly, leaning forward to kiss pale, scarred, tatted up skin as it’s revealed, until both sweater and shirt are bunched up almost to his armpits. It gets Eddie to open his eyes and look down at himself with a hiccuping groan, at the way there is so much of him now.
God, he’d been skinny his entire life all the way through high school, all six fucking years of it, living off cheap shit and not much of it. Whenever he’d gone over to a friend’s house for dinner he’d eaten everything he could without being outright rude, shoveled it in like it was a matter of survival because it was.
It’s not anymore. His appetite has grown into a beast of a thing, one he never really bothers to rein in, but today he’s left even that in the dust. His stomach feels so tight and his entire world has narrowed to just this, just Steve rubbing his belly and the next mouthful, the bite sliding between his plump lips.
Before he knows it, the fourth slice is gone and he’s on to the fifth.
As Eddie starts to slow down, to truly and definitely fill up, he tries to squirm and resettle only to find himself pinned. His belly grumbles and aches and completely covers the throbbing hard-on trapped in his pants, hiding the way his zipper still splays open long-hidden under his own bulk. He has never been this full, never pushed himself this hard, but it’s been all day and he’s so close, almost there…
“You’re doing so good, Eds,” Steve murmurs when prompted with a whine. He’s still touching, pressing, kneading, holding the soft underside of Eddie’s belly in both hands and hefting experimentally before carefully easing it back to his lap, careful not to let it bounce just now. “What do you need, babe? Tell me what you need.”
The question, and how full he is, makes Eddie’s breath hitch. It’s all he can do to keep chewing, the ache in his belly taking up more and more of his attention and he’s so close, Jesus H. Christ, if he could just—
“Feed me,” he gasps. “F-finish it, St—hic—Steve, I—”
The plate is already out of his hands. Steve doesn’t even bother putting another slice on it, just takes the fork and grabs the pie pan. Sweet filling smears across Eddie’s lips as he accepts a bite, and there’s another right there and waiting before he’s even swallowed. He can’t resist (doesn’t want to), taking that too and feeling his cheeks bulge until he manages to swallow it all with a moan. All the while he’s doing what company has prevented him from doing all day: rub at his belly as he eats, soothing and massaging to try and make just a little bit more room.
Steve nudges the next bite against his mouth, biting his own lip when Eddie’s wrap around the fork and he drags slowly back with the offering on it now missing. “I can’t believe you’re still eating, Eds,” Steve whispers in awe. “You’re so…” His hips are starting to rock, Eddie can feel the motion against his gut and padded thigh. Just a little, like he can’t help it.
Mouth too full to respond, Eddie reaches down to paw at his own buried waistband and try to shove it down, at least wriggle his ass out to give his cock more room to breathe, still can’t—
He remembers being in the bathroom a few hours ago, thinking that he could come in these pants and no one would be able to see the sticky wetness he’d be left sitting in because of his belly. Accepting yet another mouthful, his eyes roll back briefly in his head but he doesn’t come, just moans and drools and gets more pre-come on the inside of his boxers.
There’s pie filling on his chest and he mourns each fleck of it that escapes, but it’s so hard to swallow and he can’t budge these pants.
“Eddie?” Steve pauses, putting the pie down even though Eddie whimpers at the loss. “Here, let me…”
And, okay, letting Steve eases him back and just about peel the pants and underwear off his lower half gives Eddie time to clear his mouth and gasp for breath. “Ohfuck, Stevie—” as Steve plants open-mouthed kisses on his belly, on his splayed thighs, on the insides of his dimpled fucking knees as he pulls the clothes off over his still-socked feet “—don’t stop, keep, I can’t—urp—if I stop I won’t be able to finish.”
Steve nods, but gets him another drink of milk first and presses gently against his tender stomach until another series of wet, hiccupy burps come out, and then soothes a hand over the taut skin. “There,” he murmurs, eyes almost unfocused as his gaze roves in a way that makes Eddie feel not just seen but memorized. Another soft pat. “More room.” Then he reaches for the pie again.
And now it’s not even the fork anymore. Steve delivers bites to Eddie’s eager mouth with his fingers, whimpering whenever Eddie sucks on them. He starts kissing Eddie between bites, licking up the food that his desperate maw missed and feeding them back to him on his own tongue.
And Eddie is begging for it, broken little pleas and whines and burps and helpless hiccups that escape through his perpetually full mouth, the most common words being “Steve” and “please” and “more” and “more” and “more.” He keeps accepting more almost faster than he can swallow it all but whimpers whenever Steve tries to slow down. Chewing and swallowing and working his fingers against a cramp because he’s so fucking close—
“Last bite,” Steve whispers, awed, and Eddie opens his eyes a sliver. (When had he closed them?) He can’t do more than that, can barely move from where he’s sitting bare-assed on the bed with his belly hanging out, cock throbbing like a brand against his underbelly. So close, so close…
The last morsel breaches his sticky lips and his eyes roll back in his head knowing that he’d already eaten himself to sleep once before and yet just finished an entire pie all by himself. And it’s perfect, because the last bite feels heavy and slow traveling down his throat, but it goes, and it squeezes just as heavily into his abused stomach and that’s it. No more room, absolute maximum capacity. Anything else, even a single drop more milk, and he’ll burst.
The little voice in the back of his head whispering more more MORE finally is drowned out by another moaning full full FULL. His eyes roll back in his head while his teeth are still clamped wantonly around Steve’s fingers, and he comes so hard his vision whites out and the all-consuming ache of his fullness turns to fizzing hot pleasure that reaches every extremity and nerve. He comes with the entirety of his overflowing body, clutching at himself, wholly consumed by the pleasure and the excess and the fact that it is Steve feeding him, loving him, to completion.
Part 8
#wg steddie#chubby eddie munson#feeder steve harrington#feedee eddie munson#scoops words#scoops - do not unwrap fic#belly stuffing smut#the exciting almost-conclusion
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A Battle Of Ideals 2
Part 2.
Pairing: Chris O' Doyle( Free Fire) x female OC
Warnings: graphic description of blood, wounds, some violence, swearing cause that's all they did in that movie, enemies to lovers kinda?, h/c, English is not my first language, and I do not have any medical knowledge.
Word Count: 2476
Chris didn't wake up early enough to watch the sunrise, he didn't even get to share Amara's lunch with her, burned bread with butter and the cheapest cheese she could find. At noon he finally opened his eyes, regretting immediately that subconscious decision. His whole body felt filled with lead, wrapped in needles, his head hammered. His eyes were too heavy to open, still, he flinched when a hand came resting on his forehead.
"You're completely cool", Amara said satisfied. "Well done to you Chris".
She earned a loud groan in response.
"Are you hungry"?
Another grunt, considered to be a 'yes', led her to the kitchen. Shortly after, Amara came back with two fried eggs, and a small, peeled apple.
I'll have to get him to sit, she thought with a sight of boredom, and through groans and grunts she pulled him somewhat upright.
Chris faced her with a defiant look as she held the plate for him, holding the fork in front of his mouth.
"You can't eat with one arm and half a leg you proud idiot. Eat your damn food so you can go back to sleep", Amara said harshly-perhaps she had too little patience for the job.
Chris's eyes never left hers, wide open, and ironic, and that ridiculously deep hue of blue in them, and so Amara did him the favor, alright. She dropped the tray on Chris' lap, hearing him groan in satisfaction, before she put the fork next to him on the mattress with a sarcastic grin.
Chris' hand shook as he lifted it up, and the piece of apple fell on his lap, but he clenched his teeth and tried again.
He tilted his head down so as to meet the fork halfway, and scraped his mouth against the metal clumsily. It was that last sound of pain that made Amara grab the fork from him in a swift motion.
"For fuck's sake, god damnit", she growled and shoved the next piece of egg onto his mouth.
She'd never fed a baby before, but she imagined it would've been much, much easier. Babies don't feel so fucking mortified of being taken care of, do they? So defiant. And if he was defiant about her doing such a simple thing as feeding him, how the hell was she supposed to convince him to abandon his cause?
The phone in the kitchen rang just as she was about to wipe egg and apple juice off of his ridiculous mustache, so he stayed undignified for a moment.
Chris focused his hardest on listening to the conversation in the other room, but his head was so dizzy he only caught a few stray words.
"Alive" and "Of course he made it, isn't that why I was sent here"?
"Not yet", she then said in a different tone. "He's not ready yet. No, I will tell him when he is better, and ready to listen to me. He has no choice, does he? I will, I will. Yes, I know the stakes, that's why I'm treating him like the idiot that he is. And now excuse, I have to wipe the shit out of his ugly face".
Amara returned to the bedroom more furious than she had left, swiped some paper across his face and then, full of joy and cockiness, unfolded a wheelchair in front of him.
"A wheelchair? Really?", Chris complained, eyebrows intensely raised.
"Would you prefer a coffin? I can arrange one if you want. I'll cut the bed frame in 4 to fit you".
"No", Chris rasped out, serious this time. "I'll live to see my home country united. I'll go back".
"Back home"?, Amara asked and blamed the wounded man for the emotion her voice carried.
"Yes".
"You've got anyone waiting for you there"?
"I have my people".
"Calm down Gandhi".
Chris's eyes lit up by a sincere intensity despite the fact that he couldn't keep his head up for more than a minute. He half opened his mouth so as to say more, but knowing she wouldn't, couldn't understand, he decided to save his strength.
"You"?, he asked instead, tilting his head on the side like a curious puppy.
"Nah. We've kinda grown apart, you know? I had a sister once…she died. Too young. But now's not the time for sad stories", Amara said and took a pill out of her pocket.
"You drink that as a good boy, will you"?
"Fuck you-how old are you eh? Can't be older than 26, what the hell are you doing here"?
"What are you doing here Chris"?
"Trying to save my country, girl".
What about the innocent lives you take in the process?, she wanted to shout but instead put the pill in his hand.
"Don't drop that too", she said and left for the kitchen.
Damn it! She had to think. She had to. What the hell was she doing? Chit chat and shit, hI cHriS yOu hAve AnyOne wAitInG foR yOu baCk homE? How do you like your eggs? Fuck.
She'd planned on sleeping in the kitchen that night, she'd even brought pillows and blankets. And now her heart clenched enough to crash her chest just thinking about leaving him alone.
Him. Him of all people.
He's helpless, compassion argued, and before she got more angry at herself, she got pissed off at Chris, Chris who was so helpless he couldn't take a piss on his own, but, oh well…
"Did you take your pill"?, she barked as she entered and Chris flinched.
"Yes for Christ's sake".
"Great".
With long strides she reached his side, grabbed his shoulders and threw him on the wheelchair with surprising strength. Chris was all grunts and muffled curses, but he insisted on going to the bathroom by himself.
Silence fell over the room, and Amara tensed. She checked her watch. It'd been 10 minutes.
"Chris are you alive in there"?
She knocked on the door.
"Chrissyyyy"?
Grunt if you're alive, she sighed and opened the door. Chris had never actually made it to the toilet, he was splayed in the wheelchair, head hanging low, face pale.
"God's sake", Amara murmured despite herself and rushed to him. She instinctively knew he'd be too much of a jerk to answer a question, so she brushed his wounded leg with the heel of her shoe. Relief run n
through her upon hearing the familiar sounds of pain.
Chris half opened his eyes, remaining silent as she slid his underwear down, helping him sit in the toilet. She so much as had to keep him from falling on the side, had to stay there, mortify him. Between glimpses of bitterness, and another feeling, one Amara could not pinpoint, he managed to clean himself up a bit, before being led to bed again.
He looked like a corpse, pale and stiff -and yet he was burning hot. Amara struggled to realize they, him and her, were in the same place, at the same moment. She was left untouched by the mayhem in the warehouse- had let the others do the job, she thought with dismissal.
Her jaw clenched, eyes tentative, she reached for his forehead. The 679th time this day.
"You've got a fever again, goddamn it".
"Yeah, you don't say"?
Yeah yeah, speak while you can, cause you’ll start whining in a little while.
"Do…would you like me, perhaps, to stay here"?, she heard herself say. "-To keep an eye on you I mean".
Chris scoffed, with an exhale that would've been a laugh if he wasn't so weak, eyes locked at her face again.
"I'll take that as a no", she murmured and banged the door behind her. If the bastard needed help, he'd have to scream for her to hear him. Should hurt his ribs enough.
It suffocated him, hurt while he was breathing,his whole body spasming beyond any control. The room was spinning, a bone-deep ache flooded him and he was alone.
It’s probably the shock, damn you, just try to relax, he thought and focused on his breathing. But as the hours passed, the trembles running through his body became more severe, made him jolt in pain and grunt and curse, until all he could think of was the need for it to stop. To relax, and sleep, and fucking heal, if possible. It didn’t seem possible at that moment.
He called Amara, a few times over actually, until he realized no voice was coming out of his mouth. It was all in his mind, and he’d have to make his muscles cooperate in order for her to hear him. But how would he open his mouth, how would he keep his teeth from clutching?
In all his years he never had to face problems like these, so human, so humiliating.
So goddamned weak because of a deal gone wrong.
“Amara”? The word was full of regret as it left his lips. “Amara”?
She’d closed the door. Why had she closed the fucking door?
“Amara”? Please just come here, please.
Had she heard him? Was she deep in sleep or just pissed off by his attitude?
You’re a grown man, not a little child. She won’t come at all, his conscious whispered and the panic made him yell her name louder.
The woman rose to her feet immediately as she heard him, opened the door quietly. Even in complete darkness, Amara could feel Chris’s eyes pinned on her.
“Are you okay, what’s wrong? Chris”?
“I don’t know…It just won’t stop”, he whispered hoarsely.
“It’s okay, don’t worry”, Amara smiled, and disappeared from the room.
“Don’t go”, Chris uttered, too low for her to hear him. He kept begging she’d return, silently, despite himself, his instinct, his principle.
When he saw her silhouette again he released the first shaky breath of gratitude in what seemed like a decade.
“Don’t worry, I’d only gone to bring the painkillers with me”, she said softly and placed a dump cloth on his forehead.
“ ‘M cold”, Chris whined. “It doesn’t stop”.
“It’s because your fever is rising again, Chrissy. Drink that”, she said and helped him swallow down another aspirin.
Their eyes met at that moment, filled with pain and desperation, Amara’s melting under his silent plea.
Her fingers brushed his wet forehead and Chris closed his eyes, her palm warm and steady against his skin.
“It will pass. Soon. You’ll sleep, don’t worry, okay”?
The sadness in her voice made Chris indulge into that physical ache. He dared move his body, only a tiny bit, towards her.
“Please”, he said, more like a muffled breath.
A pathetic whine escaped him as her touch became firmer, brushing his hair back. He tilted his head towards her-a little more to the right and he would reach the spot she sat on on the bed, and he would feel her close.
Amara held his hand steady, feeling herself the trembles that shook him. ,
The same thoughts as every night came to her mind as she layed on her makeshift bed. What the hell was she doing with a half dead man in this shit hole in Massachusetts, hm? And since she was with him, why hadn't she shot him yet?!
You don't know if it's him. It could have been someone else.
Yeah, as if it would make a difference. They're all the same, aren't they?
"If you know what you believe in, then you're truly free", their father used to say, his phrase followed up by some snarky comments about the government, or society, or that mess of a world they lived in, in general.
And she was floating now.
Between uncertainty, fear, and her ever strengthening code of ideals.
If you don't know what you believe in, how can you keep going in life like that?
At least Chris is lucky in that part, she thought through her new wave of melancholy.
But he wasn't lucky in anything else. The fully closed curtain left no light to the room, his eyes seeing figures and shadows as if he were a child. His head felt tight, as if someone was crushing it with a hammer. Continuously.
And the trembles wouldn't stop. It made him suffocate.
“It will pass, I promise. Just you wait”.
Chris’s breath itched, in fear she’d leave again. He tagged her weakly towards him. He needed her, needed her to hold him, to feel her warmth, her calm strength.
“Come here”, he breathed out, and at that very moment, he lost all hold of himself. The tension was too much to bear, his eyes started watering, a sob got caught in his throat.
“I’m sorry. For all of this”, Amara muttered as she slid underneath the blanket. He was too battered to hug him, only so few places she could touch him, but Chris felt he would completely unravel if he lost the closeness. He rested his head on her chest, as her hand petted his harsh features, while the other one in his stomach tried to steady him against the fever, and the wounds, and the fear.
“That’s it, try to relax”, Amara whispered with a softness she didn’t know she could have towards him, as his muscles relaxed ever so slightly.
“I can’t”.
The only sound in the room was his shaky, tortured breaths, and the gentle scratch of her hand on his hair. The rest of the world had faded away, distant and unimportant.
Chris continued to shake, elbows and sharp hip-bones poking into her flesh. The tears ran all the way down to his naked torso, making him crave for her warm touch in every part of him.
Please don’t die, okay? Don’t die on me, Amara thought and soon she found herself kissing him everywhere, his brows, his eyelids, his temples, and when she realized what she was doing, it was already too late for her to stop. Cause Chris had finally found something else to focus on, rather than the pain, and he began to still, and relax, even though the low whines continued.
“I know, it’s okay. Ten more minutes and you’ll be fast asleep, I promise. Your temperature is lower now”, she whispered, her lips brushing against his temple.
The first morning light came to represent the beginning of an easier time, for both of them. His body stayed almost lifeless on the mattress, his eyes fell close. Chris could feel Amara’s heartbeat, steady, and fast. The sobs were replaced by tears, the tension turned into a bone-deep weariness that seemed would haunt him forever.
Amara turned her head slightly towards the window, as noises came from the neighbors.
“Don’t leave me now girl”, he whispered with all the strength he had remaining.
Her hand on his forehead became heavier, holding him down firmly against her chest.
“Sleep, Chris. It’s going to be fine
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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 111]
I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.
My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53
Going to work on this story. It will probably not be too many rounds before I grab lunch. I might do some later tonight though too.
Chapter 54 (Patton)
“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.
“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.
“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”
Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apples’ saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.
With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risking being kicked, had become his de facto tutor.
Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.
Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with his rider.
“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.
“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.
Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”
“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”
Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.
“I hear you’re going to go riding today,” King Thomas said.
Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.
“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.
“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”
“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”
“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”
He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.
“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.
Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”
“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”
“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.
“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”
Well, that was fair.
“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.
“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”
“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if Virgil let slip he was an assassin somehow.”
“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”
“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.
Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”
Patton bit his lip.
“What?” Logan asked.
“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.
Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”
“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.
“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”
Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.
“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.
Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.
The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.
Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.
However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.
He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).
Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.
He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.
“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.
“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.
“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.
“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.
“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”
“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.
“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.
“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.
Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.
“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”
“Why?”
This seemed to stump the king momentarily, but he still answered after thinking for a bit. “Doves existed before people got to them,” the king explained. “People caught and trained some of them, but there was no way to catch all of them. So, some stayed in the wild and continued with their lives like they had been before humans. Plus, sometimes domesticated doves fly off and never come back. Sometimes they might die, but other times they may have just gotten lost and had to build a new life somewhere far away. Or maybe they even decided that being a trained dove working for humans wasn’t for them, so they decided to go off on their own.”
“You let them do that?” Virgil asked.
“We can’t really stop them in the end,” the king said. “People can try, but it never ends up working as long as they can fly.”
Virgil thought about this. “I still don’t understand,” he said, “but okay.”
“We should take you to the cliffs,” the king suggested.
“What are the cliffs?”
“The castle grounds were built for defense,” King Thomas explained. “The edge of the grounds to the North is a large river and overlooking it is a huge cliff. It’s a good place for picnics and for birdwatching. It’s a bit of a trip, but now would be a good time of year to go.”
He glanced over his shoulder back at Logan and Patton. “What do you boys think about going to the cliffs sometime? Maybe in about a week?”
Logan squinted at his father suspiciously. It wasn’t so much the fact that the king was asking them to go to the cliffs. They did that every so often. However, this time, it only supported Logan’s claims that the king was hanging out with them a lot recently.
“Sure,” Logan said, after a moment.
“Sounds fun!” Patton said cheerily right after, trying to cover for the lack of enthusiasm in Logan’s voice with his own. Judging by King Thomas’s expression and Logan’s tight-lipped scowl, he may have overcompensated.
“Great,” the king said. “”I’ll make sure to make arrangements when we get back to the castle.”
Chapter 55 (Logan)
Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.
Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.
Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce impressively quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.
“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.
“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.
Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.
The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.
After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.
“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.
“What?” Logan asked.
“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”
“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.
“For what?”
Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”
“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.
Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”
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Day 16: Mill Creek to Findley Park
Distance Covered: 84.48 miles
Total Time (including rests): 7:52 (8:01am-3:53pm)
Time spent riding: 6:56
Average Speed: 12.2 mph
Apples Eaten: 4 (fuji - 7/10, fuji - 5.5/10, fuji - 6/10, fuji - 6/10)
Today's ride was fine. I don't really know how else to describe it. It was another long one, one that I tried to take a little slow. Almost all the ride was on state roads, except a little bit on a rail trail called the Freedom Trail. That trail was really nice, with good pavement and flat ground. However, I was only on it for a few miles.
Most of the ride was rather flat, with only a few hills here and there. Even when there were hills, the inclines were usually rather gradual, making them a lot easier to ride on than on previous days. Overall, today kinda felt like a nothing day. There wasn't much of interest along the ride, but I still spent most of the time focusing on riding.
I ended up taking 2 breaks, at about 1/3 and 2/3 of the way through the ride. First one was a snack break at Kent State. It was actually a great place to stop, cause I could actually use the wifi there, so I could check a few things I hadn't been able to in the last couple of days. The other stop was under some random tree in the shade in the middle of nowhere, where I had lunch.
Probably the most interesting part of the ride apart from the Freedom Trail was the last 20 miles of the ride. Those last 20 miles were all on a single long straight road, with almost no hills, just cutting across rural Ohio. It perfectly encompassed how I felt about the entire ride today.
After getting to my campsite and getting set up, I took my bike for a short ride (without any of my luggage) to a nearby grocery store to refill on bread and apples, as I was beginning to run out. I should now have enough to last me through arriving in Ann Arbor in 2 days' time.
Small Notes:
Water bottle - I kept the bottled water I got yesterday and have been keeping filled and in my front bag. It's been helpful in allowing me to make the additional push I sometimes need to get to a proper resting spot to refill my water
Croc - I carry Crocs on the back of my bike to wear when I'm not riding (you might've seen them in a pic or two). I'm sorry to say that the strap on one of them has broken. I can still wear them and walk around, but it's now going to be harder putting them in my bike, because I don't have an easy way to loop a bungee cord through that croc (I'll figure something out, though)
Design Notes
It's the return of design notes! Today I actually had something that came to mind naturally that I spent a lot of time thinking about, so I don't feel awkward and like I'm pushing myself to think of something to write about.
Procedural Generation
I'm gonna talk a bit about procedural generation, and specifically about how I like using it in cases other than map-making. This thought came to mind because I was thinking about Time Loop, and how the Assistance App in that game might decide what events should occur and why. For example, I don't want too many events that do similar things to occur, and you also want the threat of events to grow realistically over time. I don't know quite yet how I'd do this Proc-Gen, but I do have two other theoretical cases I've thought about before that will probably help me:
Proc-Gen in Dominion: For those who do not know, Dominion is a tabletop deckbuilder card game, where players are given a random assortment of cards which they can buy 1 or more copies of throughout the game, and they make use od those cards ro gain Victory Points. And also, it's probably my favorite game of all time. The base game of Dominion has about 25 different cards which can be in the Supply or shop, and you play with 10 each game. But then, you add in expansions, and the number of possible card combinations becomes near limitless. I mentioned earlier that you pick cards for the shop randomly, but that's not quite true. You can do that, but that will often lead to unbalanced or unfun game setups. Instead, there are generally a few heuristic rules you follow when selecting cards, such as not having too many or too little of any cost of card, or not having multiple different cards whose effects are too similar. With that in mind, I've thought in the past about coding a program that selects a set of 10 cards, such that cards are selected randomly yet it minimizes the possibility of poor setups. How I think I'd do it is by giving each card various tags/attributes, such as their cost and generalities about their effects (such as "trashers" or "villages"). Then, the first card would be picked completely randomly. However, whatever card that is will change the weight of other cards in the pool such that you're more likely to pick a wider variety of cards. Of course, the system as it is has a few problems, such as the fact that it may lead to certain cards being picked too often or almost never, just because of what attributes they have. It could also still lead to situations where you have too many or too few cards of certain costs, because it doesn't account for that.
Characters Inc: Two years ago, I made a game called Characters, Inc. for a programming class, where you are given randomly generated characters, and have to equip them with items and send them on quests in order to make enough money to survive. Unfortunately, I never got to do one of the things I wanted to with that game, which was to have a system that procedurally generates items with stat bonuses and effects, as selected from a random list. Instead, I just had a list of possible items, and they would just be randomly picked. However, the idea stuck in my mind, so I had some thoughts on how it would work. What's important to know as a precursor to this is that Characters Inc is a rather simplistic game when it comes to characters and their items: you just send them on a quest, and depending on their stats, they come back with a certain amount of loot and damage taken. Because of that, it was really easy to design equipment that basically all just had conditional stat changes and related effects (for example, a Bloodied item would give a basic stat increase, but would give a larger stat increase if the character carrying it started the quest already damaged). Thus, most item effects could be represented as quantitative values. My idea for the Proc-Gen for this would be the following steps: (1) randomly select the level of the item, as this would determine how powerful it is. With that, you get a quantitative power level in the bank (2) randomly select an ability for the item to have, and increase or decrease the power level in the bank according to that ability (positive abilities would spend power, while negative would gain it). (3) decide whether the item should have another ability. If yes, return to step (2). If not, (4) randomly assign the item basic stat bonuses, spending the rest of the power in the bank. (5) decide what type of item it is, partially based on the stats it provides (e.g. defense-granting items are more likely to be shields or armor).
Both of those examples are ones which could serve as good inspirations if I decide to actually work on Time Loop, as they are more about generating a realistic creation from a list, rather than creating a picture or map.
This is all for tonight. There won't be any pictures tonight, partially because I didn't take any, and partially because the service is so bad at my campsite I don't think I'd be able to share them. Tomorrow's another long one, and it's just a straight shot West across Ohio. Luckily, at the moment it looks like I'll have a Northeast wind, but I don't know if that'll hold true.
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Journal 8/15/22
I woke up a bit slow this morning with about 6.5 hours of actual sleep. Took me about half an hour to fall asleep, which is my usual. I’ve been trying out some new sleep hygiene tactics, particularly not forcing myself to stay in bed and “try to sleep” if I’m not feeling READY to sleep. Instead, I’m trying out planning at that time to help reduce my anxiety about the morning. I think it’s helping somewhat, but I’m still going to bed pretty late. I was talking with Husband about my sleep and how difficult it is to find a good time to workout now, and I think I may try to workout at night if I’m not too exhausted to drive to the gym.
For breakfast I had some protein cereal with a banana. I use the Darigold Fit 2% milk, which is my favorite because it’s so creamy and doesn’t upset my stomach at all.
I had to work today, just 10-2, but of course I needed coffee because of how tired I was. Work sucked less than normal because the doctor I was working for did over half the notes herself 🙃 I don’t actually mind because… I’m leaving in less than two months!!! I think I have 8 weeks left!! So it is coming up!
After work, Husband and I had our last marriage therapy session. Husband feels like we got what we needed out of it as a couple and has been checked out the last idk maybe 2 months; I’m still going to maintain biweekly sessions for myself though as I have a lot of anxiety that we could work through, and as I submit my applications, I’m worried about how we will handle the potential move. I like knowing that we can transition to a couple’s session if we need it.
Anyway, after therapy I had lunch, which was a turkey and provolone sandwich with plenty of red leaf lettuce and tomatoes. Blueberries added for color today. Look at that cross section! I know it’s not much/fancy, but I love sandwich cross sections.
I had to go drop off my Apple Watch today too. I had one for about a year, as I bought it as a graduation gift to myself. The EKG app stopped working in November, which was concerning because that’s when I passed out at my husband’s surgical center in his recovery room and the nurse thought it looked like a seizure. I was using the app to reassure me of my heart heath since I was worried that my syncope was cardiogenic. Anyway, I decided not to pursue repair because I didn’t want to be without my watch, but a week ago Husband gave me a new one (he bought one and then decided he didn’t want it anymore), so I decided to give my old watch to my sister… but I wanted to fix it. I had to discuss with Apple Support who made me drive 150 miles to our nearest apple support place (literally just a Best Buy’s geek squad)… only to have the employee/tech tell me it’s a hardware issue and I would need to send it in. Literally I spoke to him for 5 minutes.
On my way home I picked up Oreo from daycare. He’s a goofy little guy.
I did started some laundry, received my fourth (and final) LOR, and then Husband decided he wanted dinner. I left my dinner plans pretty open because it’s usually our only social meal, if we decide to eat together that day, but he wanted to just make himself a leftover wrap and eat himself. BUT, he also made a salad (spring mix, cucumber, green onion, and some cheddar cheese), and he made extra for me too.
Obviously, a basic green salad wasn’t enough for dinner, but it had only been 3 hours since lunch so I wasn’t too hungry. I cooked a Tofurky Italian sausage and added in some Italian dressing to make it more substantial, though if I had been hungrier I would’ve needed some additional carb. Note: photo taken halfway through.
Because my dinner was so light though, I did get hungry a couple hours later and wasn’t sure what I wanted..
And so when Husband pulled out the turkey jerky I forgot about, I had some turkey jerky and cantaloupe.
I’m now almost done in the tub listening to some podcasts and finishing up my digital planner for tomorrow. I’m hoping this will reduce my anxiety tonight and help me sleep better!
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Tofu Spinach Salad
To incorporate more vegetables into my diet (and fewer carbohydrates), I’ve recently incorporated salads into my regular meal rotation. I’ll be the first to admit that for the longest time, I didn’t consider salads to be a real meal and just saw them as a side. On the rare occasion I did eat a salad during college it was simply because there was nothing else I was willing to eat. In other words, salads were my absolute last resort. And while I still don’t exactly crave salads, I’ve genuinely been enjoying eating this tofu spinach salad for lunch. The crispy tofu serves as a source of protein and also sort of acts like croutons. While a recipe isn’t really necessary for such a simple meal, I’ve been having fun trying to document my meals and meal planning in this way.
Speaking of meal planning, I make this salad four times a week. And that’s an exact number because part of my whole meal planning thing is all about preventing food waste and knowing exactly how each purchased ingredient will be used before buying it. In the case of this salad, one package of tofu is enough for four salads, the red peppers I buy come in a pack of two, and the blue cheese is enough for the four salads with a little extra. As for the spinach, two bags is significantly more than I need, but that does force me to make another two meals per week with spinach. Still developing the recipe, but one meal I’ve been using extra spinach for has been a spinach omelet. Sidenote, but even with predominantly organic ingredients, each salad costs me less than $3 to make. I didn’t do a price breakdown for the vinaigrette or the tofu ingredients, but the other ingredients total $2.46 (see price breakdown at the bottom of this post).
Ingredients:
2 ounces baby spinach
½ red bell peppers
1 ounce blue cheese
For Crispy Tofu (4 Servings):
14 ounces extra firm tofu
1 tablespoon cooking oil (canola, olive, or avocado)
1 tablespoon tamari
1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil
For Apple Cider Vinaigrette:
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1/4 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/4 teaspoon maple syrup
Preparation:
Make the Crispy Tofu:
Drain the tofu and press out excess moisture with paper towels.
Cut the tofu into small cubes. (As shown in the photo below, sixths in the x-direction, eighths in the y-direction, and quarters in the z-direction).
Add the cooking oil, tamari, and tofu cubes directly to a quarter-sheet pan. Move the tofu around to coat each side with the oil/tamari and then spread it into a single layer.
Broil the tofu on high for 20 minutes stirring every five minutes. Before the final five minutes, drizzle over the sesame oil.
Prep the Rest of the Salad:
While the tofu cooks, you can prepare the rest of the salad.
Cut the red pepper into thin strips and then quarters.
Combine the vinaigrette ingredients in a small leakproof container.
Add spinach.
Crumble the blue cheese over the top of the spinach.
Top with a quarter of the cooled tofu.
Ingredient Price Breakdown:
Organic baby spinach, $1.99 for a six-ounce bag at Trader Joe’s
Organic red peppers, $3.49 for a pack of two at Trader Joe’s
Organic extra firm tofu, $1.69 for a 14-ounce package at Whole Foods
Blue cheese, $7.99 per pound at Trader Joe’s
Calculation: $1.99/3 + $3.49/4 + $1.69/4 + $7.99/16 = ~$2.46
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Banting dinner day 2!
Hey ho, let's go. This little tiny boxed wine is exactly three glasses of cabernet, La Croix, mediocre Starkist tuna salad and crackers, gyro meat, and mangos.
There's vegetables in tuna salad, right? That counts as a vegetable if ketchup does (does it still?)
No urgent errands to run this afternoon that can't wait 3 hours so yes, it's 3:30pm, and I'm nervous but gonna drink three glasses of wine with dinner for science.
Did you ever notice that Aldi tuna salad is 100x better than the name brand? But I own it, and it must have some nutrients in it, even if it is filled with polyunsaturated fat (boo, if you're not sure why this is a bad thing, it's because the more unsaturated a fat is, the more free radicals it forms in your body. Free radicals are why people say you need to eat antioxidants. It's why more and more processed food manufacturers are switching to "high oleic" aka more saturated varieties of oils...but that doesn't fix the root issue. Even palm oil, which is very saturated and stable, does this. But that's a discussion for another day!). Still, I'm hungry, and it tastes better than I remember, just has a bitter aftertaste.
This wine is definitely more acidic than Coppola's Claret but it does pair well with the gyro meat.
This is not the Indian mango I was expecting. It has a weird aftertaste, like melons and cucumbers do, it's too fibrous, and it makes my mouth itch a little. I have what is known as an "oral pollen allergy" which is another reason I almost never eat fresh fruits and veg. My body basically is telling me "You don't need to eat these things to be healthy." Or at least cook them first. Hard pass. I can always freeze it and then try baking it later.
I must look up which fruits and veg were widely available during different seasons in Banting era England. I'm tempted to fry bananas or plantains and consume that as my fruit, or I can eat baby food, but I might have to stick to things like baked apples because I know most fruits were less sweet and smaller 161 years ago and they definitely couldn't waltz into Whole Foods and get watermelon in January. Someone call a historian! I want my diet to be as historically accurate as possible.
Also, I'm curious now: I'm happy to not drink during the middle of the day, it does feel a bit like a hassle, but are there any cultures left in the world where it is still culturally acceptable to drink like Mad Men and have a three martini lunch? I'm not endorsing it, I will not be drinking before or during working hours even if I work from home, but I'm just curious. There must be, right? My best guess would be somewhere in Eastern Europe, although I'd find it hard to believe if Russians didn't at least proclaim to deem that unacceptable these days.
Although one time during the pandemic this guy from a legit healthcare company called me drunk as hell to see if I would take a survey about my insurance. He pronounced the "Dr." in my address as "Doctor" dead serious and stood by it without apology. He only mildly slurred but did have enough lag time and silly mistakes and even a giggle or two which informed me he was almost certainly not dyslexic or something similar but crunk. I looked up his employer for remote jobs because I figured it would be a sweet gig if he hadn't been fired yet but sadly they required cross country travel for training which wasn't feasible at the time.
Update: Ugh, this tuna salad sucks, I can't finish it. Trying to finish gyro meat, it's fine but technically a few days past expiration, but it's hard to just eat a pile of meat, bruh, even when it's moist and spiced so nice.
And it's almost as hard to drink this much wine, but at least it goes down without chewing. I gotta re-read his pamphlet, it's been a few years, but I don't remember him drinking much water? I could not drink this much wine without water. Oof. It's heavy.
Did my most valiant but could not choke down the last slice of gyro meat. Back in the fridge it goes.
#bantingdinner#banting#williambanting#modifiedketo#lowcarb#gyro meat#crackers#tuna salad#cabernet sauvignon#lacroix#thegreatbantinglikewilliamexperiment#thegreatbantingexperiment
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Day 5 of 90 - Gotta Fuel Up
I ended up rolling out my legs yesterday using a large rolling pin, of all things, because that’s what I had on hand. And I think it helped! This morning my legs definitely felt used, but they didn’t feel nearly as sore as they did yesterday morning. My abs, on the other hand, feel as sore as ever. Is there a way to roll out ab muscles? 😅
FOOD (again)
I realized that I do actually need to come up with a food plan. Apparently, the way I was eating before was fine for the amount of energy I was expending, but now that I’m working out for about an hour every day, I really need to consume more calories in order to keep my energy levels up. But I don’t want to just eat more unhealthy snacks, like chips and cookies (which is what I currently have on hand). So, I’m going to need to do some research to find some healthy, nutritious snacks that I can grab throughout the day that will help keep me energized. Because I’m really more of a snack-er than a 3-full-meals-and-that’s-it kind of person. I usually don’t eat all that much in one sitting, so I like to graze. Which will be fine if I have nutritious foods that are fueling me to graze on.
For example, yesterday we had run out of eggs, and I hadn't made myself the chicken wing dish yet that I was planning to, so for breakfast and lunch I ate a ham and cheese sandwich without the bread (as in... just slices of ham and sliced of cheese). My thought regarding the bread was white bread = empty carbs, so white bread =/= healthy eating. So that's why I omitted it, since I'm trying to be more conscious about what I'm using to fuel my body. But it turns out that if I remove a carb from my diet, then I need to replace it with another carb - even if it is a healthier carb. Because I basically just didn't really eat any carbs for most of the day yesterday, and then felt exhausted in the afternoon. So yeah... I need to come up with a plan.
Healthy, quick foods that I am more likely to eat (getting ideas from this article):
Fruit
Mixed nuts
Eggs
Milk
Oatmeal
Green smoothie (I need to buy some spinach that I can have on hand to blend into my smoothies to get some more nutrients into my diet.)
Plain greek yogurt (to go in the smoothie - will add protein to my food intake)
Apple with peanut butter
Bananas
Chocolate milk (for post-workout recovery)
More ideas here in the Blogilates 90-day meal plan
Yeah... after doing some research, and especially reading this article, I think it's likely that the fatigue I've been experiencing over the past few days has been a result of low blood sugar and not eating / drinking enough. But now I know, and I will work on building up healthier habits in that arena. I don't want to impede my body's progress toward health and wellness by not giving it the proper fuel it needs.
Also, I'm recalling the fact that I didn't have a period for the three months that I did my last 90 day journey, back in 2019. At the time, I remember thinking, "huh, that's weird" and just chalking it up to something I heard about female athletes sometimes not getting a period when they were in an intense training phase. I figured my body was just confused about how much I was working out. But I'm realizing now that I think it was actually more serious than that. This article has more info, but basically, losing your period "can be a sign of exercise-induced anorexia related to energy deprivation from not eating enough, from exercising too much, or from a combination of the two," and has some pretty serious side effects, including loss in bone density and loss in muscle mass. Oof. I guess I really should have paid more attention. Also, it seems like I wasn't eating enough even back then, if my body was reacting this way.
So, new plan:
Hydrate well before and after working out
Eat a snack or meal with complex carbs and protein pre-workout (either a snack 30 mins before the workout session, or a full meal 2-3 hours before)
Eat three full meals + 3 carb-rich snacks each day
Eat within 30 to 60 minutes post-workout. Post-workout meals should be high in carbs and protein. (examples include sandwich _ fruit, bagel with peanut butter + chocolate milk, energy bar + yogurt with granola, salad and fruit, spaghetti with meatballs, etc.) If I can't eat a full meal right away, then eat a snack immediately and then a full meal later.
Consume enough calcium every day (sources include milk, yogurt, cheese, leafy greens, and calcium-fortified orange juice)
EXERCISE SESSION
Today's session was fairly brief, as I just didn't have the spoons to do a longer session. It was only about 20 minutes, but I'm proud of myself for still working out instead of having an "all-or-nothing" mindset.
20 minutes, abs-focused pilates:
Beautiful abs
10 minute lower ab workout
MEASUREMENTS
I know I said I wasn’t gonna do this, but I was curious, so I weighed myself this morning before I had eaten anything. It came up 152.2 lbs, so I guess my baseline is more like 152. Good to know. NOW I’m putting away the scale for at least another week or so.
Also, my measurements aren't changing day-to-day (as to be expected), so I'm going to stop measuring every day and move to weekly measuring.
#blogilates#90 day journey#fitness#clean eating#90 day challenge#journey to healthy living#90 day fitness journey#fitness journey
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Saturday Weigh-in
124.4 lbs.
Aaaand welcome to PMS week.
So. I didn’t end up relaxing any of my dietary “rules” this week, and I kind of ended up regretting it. Yesterday was another 500 calorie day- and while I felt fine during my 10-hour nursing shift, it all kind of fell apart for me when I got home and found out we had company and I would need to figure out how to avoid dinner without it becoming “a thing.”
My fiancé is an evening eater, which places him in the comfortable majority. He can go most of the day without eating anything substantive- then demolish an entire pizza by himself, chase it with a full bowel of nuts and raisins, chase that with an apple and almond butter/whatever chocolate we have lying around, and wash it all down with a few Old Fashioned cocktails. All within a two-three hour period, usually after work and before bedtime.
My typical eating window has been falling between 9 am and 2 pm- since, I reason, I’m most physically active earlier in the day. But it means that if I ever want us to eat together- something he has made it clear that he would like- I need to make a point of preparing breakfast or lunch for us both. (Or pushing my fasting hours significantly out to accommodate dinner.)
It’s made me self-conscious and frustrated.
I overheard him tell our company (his brother) “She doesn’t eat dinner” last night, as they tucked into some chicken and broccoli. As if I hadn’t prepared us both dinner the other night. As if we hadn’t all enjoyed dinner out with friends that past weekend, at my recommendation.
“Ah, okay,” came my future brother-in-law’s too-breezy response.
I felt like an absurdity. I also felt a pang of annoyance.
Like, sorry. I’m sorry I’m not the carefree, mashed potato-loving woman you fell for. That woman was 20 lbs heavier, and it sucked.
Also. Sidebar. I don’t really understand why dinner seems to be the most socially revered of all mealtimes- and almost always the heaviest? The average person eats dinner and is engaged in a completely sedentary activity until bedtime. (Except for like, evening body builders, I guess?)
If food is “fuel,” then why fill the car all the way up just for it to sit in the garage?
I don’t know. I’m just feeling defensive and crappy about it all. Now that I hit goal weight, I felt comfortable enough to make a bunch of adjustments for him this week. But I keep getting put in these situations where I can feel attention being drawn to my eating habits. And I don’t like it.
Anyway.
Damn the scale. No 500 calorie days this upcoming week. I was so mentally and physically exhausted last night, I passed out at 8 pm.
Maybe I’ll just reserve those days for if my cravings/hunger get out of control again, as a kind of “reset.”
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A Different Kind Of Joy (SKZ Female Member) Chapter 24
CEO JYP’s POV
“What?! You all can’t find the one that added Retinol into my idol’s apple juice?!”
I looked at the officers in shock when they revealed to me what has been investigated.
“We can’t really find anybody suspicious of the person who added the Retinol into Miss Bae’s drink.” The main officer, Yang, tells us.
“That’s why we need to ask you if you know of Miss Bae’s history.” The other, officer Ho adds on.
“I only know her brother took her away from the United States at a young age, took full custody of her and she trained 3 years with Pledis before coming to my company.” I scratched my head telling them the brief I’ve learned of Joy from the girl herself
“Anything you know of her parents?” Ho asks me. “I only know they haven’t seen Joy ever since her brother took full custody.” I said.
“So I guess the parents is out of the picture.” Ho says. “Has Joy said anything about her time in Pledis?” Yang then asks me.
Suddenly, a flashback came into my mind, shortly before Joy joined the group, the secretary and I wanted to have lunch at her brother’s when we heard a conversation between Joy’s brother Mike and his wife Judith.
~FLASHBACK~
“Pledis has underestimated us and spread rumours about us. I just want Joy away from that company cause they’ve hurt her enough. I don’t need additional problems.”
~•••~
“Mr Park?”
Yang calls me back and I just nod my head. “Thinking of something?” He asks me.
I think for a bit for telling them the flashback I have, I’m not shocked when I learned in return, Mike did told them about Pledis as well.
“Looks like we will have to conduct an investigation on Pledis Entertainment.” Ho tells Yang.
“Add more security to the group, anybody from Pledis to be checked more thoroughly.” Yang then passes his order to his team. “Yes sir!” Everybody else said yes to the order.
After a few more questions, they’ve left and I sat back on my chair scratching my head at what happened.
“Do you think that will help catch the culprit sooner or later?” My secretary asks me. “I’m sure this will help get the culprit soon or later.” I respond before continuing whatever I needed to do
Joy’s POV
I don’t know what’s with everybody up to but seems I’m with every member every 2 days.
After Seungmin and Lee Know, I’m with Woojin. “Come Joy, we have to go to the doctor.” Woojin says as it was the day I have to do the reviews after I was discharged
I can’t think of apple juice now. Not after I almost died from drinking it with poison.
“The poison is about 40% removed, she still has a long way to go. Just continue making sure she drink lots of water and rest more along with continuing taking the medication to dispel it.” The doctor says to WooJin about my blood test
“Thank you doctor,” We thanked the doctor before leaving the room. WooJin then gives me my water bottle. “Thanks” I thanked him.
“No worries” He smiles as I drink. We soon just paid for the consultation and headed back to the dorms.
“I will reheat your porridge then you take your meds, get lots of rest. How’s that sounds?” Woojin asks me and I nodded my head.
He does so and I did finish up the porridge and took my medication. He then makes me drink up two big cups of water that I ran rounds and rounds of toilet for.
“Feeling better now?” He asks me. “Should be after going rounds” I said.
“Then you better get some rest.” He pats my head before I just go to my room
He pulls the blankets over me. “Get some sleep” He pinch my nose saying. I just smile a little before hugging the bolster under the blankets and get some sleep.
Woojin’s POV
I was playing some games on my phone while the others got back. “Joy’s asleep” I tell them so they can be quiet without waking Joy up.
“So what did the doctor say?” Chan asks me. “The poison is only about 40% removed, she has to continue what is advised to have the poison completely removed.” I told them all.
“That bad? She has been following everything to a tee?” Lee Know scratches his head confused.
“Maybe she takes a longer time recovering, after all hadnt we realise in time, she would be in a lots of trouble.” Hyunjin explains.
“The fact that the culprit hasn’t been caught yet is scary.” I said. “As long as the culprit hasn’t been caught, for all I know, we can’t keep our guard down.” Seungmin says.
The rest of us nod our heads agreeing to what Seungmin has said. “Let’s not risk when the culprit is at loose after all” Changbin says throwing Jeongin the remote control.
“Hey since when did you control the remote control?” Lee asks Changbin that got Kim smacking him at the back of the head.
“Sorry” Lee apologised to us all as Jeongin picks a movie while we enjoy a couple of watermelons.
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#god I'm so fucking tired#I've been working my ass off for the past two days and I still have more work to do#I spent my free two hours between classes working on a paper#my lunch has been two (2) apples and that is just Not Enough#I wanna take a nap and eat lunch but class doesn't end for another hour and a half#uggggggghhhhhhhhhh#casual convo
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season 3 predictions
(all of which are likely to be made completely redundant by 2x12 but HEY HO LET’S GO)
Sam. I think the opportunity offered to him by Edwin is too great to pass up but I just can’t imagine the show and the Richmond team without Toheeb Jimoh. Given that the writers have said they’ve planned these arcs in advance I don’t think he’d be written out for the sake of a new acting gig. Therefore because I’m selfish and desperately hoping he stars in season 3 (and could hardly pop back as a recurring character while on Edwin’s team) I could see him doing a Leslie Knope from Parks and Rec: ‘I want to leave Richmond better than when I joined it’. After what I hope will be a promotion for the team I could potentially see him asking Edwin for a year’s grace to help Richmond win the Premier League, and then he’ll happily take him up on his offer.
I’m also hoping like hell that this would be the push Rebecca needs to see there’s not going to be a future in the relationship with Sam. It’s interesting that although Bill Lawrence has openly agreed that the employee/age difference is concerning, there’s been little acknowledgement of that in the show, so I wonder if there’s going to be fallout in episode 12 in some fashion. Regardless, I think it’s time to say goodbye to Sambecca.
Keeley and Roy. I am firmly of the opinion that they ain’t breaking up any time soon. There’s no way in hell Roy has knelt down in front of Keeley so many times without it meaning something, so I am certain that next season will be the planning of the Kent-Jones wedding.
I also have a sneaking suspicion that Keeley might end up being the next opening-shot of the season. After episode after episode of her working as Roy/Rebecca/Jamie’s emotional support, we got a tantalising glimpse into her psyche last episode: both with her uncertainties around being featured in Vanity Fair and her ambitions being shaped by her mother’s history. I love Keeley but quite frankly we haven’t had enough of her as plot - I really think/hope she might come to the fore next season.
Nate. I fully believe there’s no way in hell Nate will still be working at Richmond come the end of the season, though I can imagine him walking away in a fit of pique rather than Rebecca firing him. (Frankly, I can’t see Ted letting Rebecca do that.) I think he’ll end up joining another team - possibly with or without Darth Mannion’s help - and, although a lot of people here want this to be a devastatingly humiliating/humbling experience for Nate, I’d love to see this as an opportunity for him to genuinely grow outside the confines of Richmond (which forms way too much of his identity - and let’s be honest, can’t always hold good memories for Nate when he was literally asking his teammates not to physically harass him on a daily basis). I can definitely see someone - HigginsHigginsHiggins - giving him Sharon’s number to call before he leaves, and I like the idea that in the season break Nate could be dealing with some of his issues and returning to the Nate the Great we know and love.
However, I then think Nate will somehow end up back at Richmond. While you could argue that it would be better for Nate to make a clean break, it would honestly be a waste of Nick Mohammed’s bloody sterling acting talents to keep him away from Nelson Road for too long in season 3. I have no idea how a redemption arc here might look, but it would have to be good, and if there’s forgiveness to be offered, it should take more than the space of an episode - although I hope they don’t stretch it out too long. Rebecca and Jamie were forgiven relatively quickly; it would be a shame and a bad look if Nate’s own forgiveness journey was too disproportionately drawn out.
I’d also love to see Jamie, Colin and Isaac apologise for their season 1 bullying of Nate. Much as the bullying Nate suffered doesn’t excuse his shoddy behaviour, Nate’s own bullshit doesn’t excuse what our beloved trio pulled in season 1 - and crucially, we never saw them apologise to Nate or try to make amends. I really love apology scenes and I’d love to see Nate with some friends beyond Ted and Keeley - and that li’l scene in the Liverpool karaoke bar with Isaac, Colin and Nate doing shots together means I want more of this friendship.
Some sort of Jamie/Nate commiseration over shit dads and over-compensating for the emotional wounds they give us? Please?
More Higgins. In many ways Higgins is the emotional rock for our beloved Richmond: he’s the only one not suffering from some sort of untold trauma or struggles, and is able to live with a relationship with an imperfect father and yet be a fantastic father himself. I’d love to see a storyline where Higgins isn’t on the periphery but straight in the heart of the action, potentially adopting a Richmond boy or two along the way.
By saying this, I mean Jamie. If we get a scene where Jamie is invited around to the Higginses for Sunday lunch I will cry. Much like Nate needs space apart from Richmond to grow and heal, Jamie needs close relationships with people who aren’t Keeley for security - mature familial relationships, and quite frankly the Higginses are the stable family dynamic Jamie needs right now.
Why the fuck does Colin feel the need to remind himself he is not a piece of shit? Enquiring minds need to know. We’ve had episode storylines that focus on Dani, Sam, Jamie and Isaac; I just want one with Colin where I’m not emotionally devastated by the end of it, thank you Headspace.
This isn’t so much a prediction as a plea, but an entire episode where the Richmond boys are the focus. A night out in Richmond, that long-promised pillow fight, them finally taking Colin to go clothes shopping for something that isn’t a button-up polo shirt - I honestly don’t care, I just need as much of their antics as Apple TV allows.
On a slightly more realistic note, the Himbos Greyhounds content rose significantly from season 1 to season 2, so I can see the writers carrying on with that arc.
Ted. Fuck knows. At this point I can’t trust myself to predict Ted’s actions - I do think Nate’s going to be leaving Richmond, and so I can’t see Ted leaving as well. It would be amazing if Ted used the dubiously-written expose (c’mon Trent, you couldn’t have given Ted a head’s up or asked for a quote before the article was put online? forget dubious journalism ethics that just...seems inefficient not to approach him for a comment while you were writing the piece) as an excuse to talk more about mental health in sport. I definitely think episode 12 is going to have Richmond rally around Ted, and so I do hope the article isn’t going to drive Ted further into hiding and that he’ll be at Richmond by the time season 3 comes around.
Ted and Rebecca. I can’t have been the only one that caught that little look by Ted when Rebecca left his office in 2x11, right? Certainly the show has set up a whopper of a truth bomb for season 3, when there’s another heart to heart in Ted’s office, and though it could be anything, my little shipper heart is screaming some sort of romantic confession of love. I don’t know, it just feels like there is a...a something between Ted and Rebecca that’s going to happen in 2x12, and I can’t help but think it’s going to lay the foundations for whatever happens in season 3 big time.
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