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arielhopepeace · 1 year

Text

Part Two

Tw: sliiiight smut? 18+ only

Part one is here

Part three is here

5,300 words

It's finally the weekend, and you're inwardly celebrating as you wake up without a phone alarm blaring in your room. You flick your gaze over to your bedroom window that is draped shut, shielding you from the horror that is daylight. Well, the sunshine is beautiful, of course, but you just hate that damned sliver that sometimes cuts through and blinds you while trying to sleep.

Rolling out of your bed, you stretch, finally deciding to pull the curtains open to let the hot light spread onto your skin. As you peer out to the vacant street, you can't help but turn your head to the left a bit, seeing if Joel's truck is in the driveway.

You're reminded of last night and all the wonderful feelings he gave you. It was a dream being able to just spend time with him and not have anybody else around to shield you from interacting. That was the first time you hung out just the two of you, and you couldn't help but feel all the sparks the entire time.

Making your way into your kitchen, you decide to play some of your favorite music off of the small, but loud Bluetooth speaker that rests beside your stove. The beat captivates you as it always does, your mind in a trance as you sing along, knowing every lyric, every breath, every pause.

It adds a bit of rhythm to your routine as you prepare your morning coffee. Your finger grazes over the buttons on your Keurig, hearing it whir to life before spouting out the brown liquid that always gives you the extra pep for the day.

You're in a ridiculously giddy mood today, and you know it's because you can't get Joel's brown eyes out of your mind. The way he smiled at you when you joked, or the softened twinkle in his eye when he thanked you for giving Sarah the prize; both memories making you practically swoon.

There's a sharp, quick knock on the front door that makes your ears perk up over the music as you hurriedly turn it down. You've never gotten an unplanned visitor, so you can't help but to approach the door with slight trepidation.

Your eye meets the peephole, seeing something that has been dropped at your front door as the man in the blue uniform departs from the item. Letting out that anxious sigh of relief at not having to speak to anyone, you unlock the door, pulling it open to see a dainty, beautiful bouquet of zinnias that rest in a small wicker basket.

You pull the basket inside, carrying it to your dining room table with a cocked head of curiosity. There's a folded white note stuffed into the side, and you yank it out to read your name on the front of it. Your heart soars as you read the handwritten note inside the paper.

Y/n,

To repay the kindness of gifting Sarah the prize that I won for you last night. If it helps, you can name every single flower Joel in place of the monkey.

Thank you again.

Joel (not the monkey)

Your face aches as you read, giggling like a fool as your eyes scan the note after reading it a few more times. You can't help but find the messy scribbles of his handwriting to be endearing, and so incredibly romantic. The fact that he took the time out of his day to write this note and have flowers hand-delivered to your door is enough to make your head spin; way more than it did on the rides last night.

That doubt scratches its way up to the surface again, and you can't help but feel like this is purely a friendly thing, and not a romantic thing like you want it to be. Regardless of the meaning behind it, it means a lot to you, and you know that you have to thank him.

Pulling out your phone, you begin to text Joel.

10:30am

Just received some lovely flowers with an even lovelier note. Thank you. You didn't have to do that for me.

Joel

10:32am

I'm glad you got 'em. Ordered them as soon as I got home last night and was hoping they'd be delivered today. I wanted to get them for you. It was a thank you for Sarah, but also just a thank you for keeping me company last night. I had a lot of fun.

10:33am

I had fun, too. The most fun I've had in a long time, it seems. All I ever do is work.

Joel

10:34am

You and me both. We have the weekends at least, right?

10:35am

Thank god.

Setting your phone down, you rub your cheeks, the ache becoming almost unbearable at this point from grinning like an idiot. There's no time in your life where you can remember being this happy, maybe except for when you graduated high school. But even that didn't top the feeling that Joel gives you.

You decide to yourself that you're going to keep the favors going. He did end up paying for everything last night, and getting you a lovely bouquet just for giving away a stuffed animal is too nice. You're going to make him some chocolate chip cookies and pray he likes them.

Even though you've known Joel for most of your life, you haven't known him on a personal level. Of course you know about his late wife and Sarah. You know both of their birthdays, but that's the most intimate the details about either of them get. Truthfully, you know more about Sarah just from talking to her at your dad's barbecues all the time.

When Joel told you he's about to be forty last night, you didn't realize just how insane that sounds. What on earth are you doing crushing on a man that is sixteen years older than you? Are you really going to bake him cookies just as an excuse to see him again?

Yes. Yes, you are.

Him and Sarah have their birthdays next month, just two weeks apart from each other. Joel has never made a big deal about his birthday, but your dad has usually always done something for it. Whether that be take him out to a strip club, or even inviting him and Sarah over for dinner, he's done it.

It's a shame that your dad has showed up to more of Joel's birthdays than yours. The pain of him not showing up anymore has subsided as the years have gone on, but when you're younger, it leaves a void in your soul that takes a long time to fill with merely distractions and presents.

You don't really care whether or not he makes it anymore. You don't mind just spending it with your mom and a few friends just getting dinner and drinks together. Your mom really has made your dad's seemingly lack of care a lot easier to manage, and you love her extra for that reason.

There's a ding that sounds through the kitchen, letting you know that the cookies you made for your neighbor/dad's best friend/crush/man you can't stop thinking about, are finished baking.

You pull them out, the whole house smelling of sweet, freshly baked cookies making you want to steal one right off the tray, but you resist. Not only are these for Joel, but you know Sarah will like them, too, and you don't want to take away from what they'll share.

You've settled on only making a dozen, knowing that six cookies per person is probably enough. The metal spatula in your palm slides smoothly beneath the cookies, your hand carrying them steadily to a wire rack to cool a bit faster. You're more than a little excited to give these to him, and you just hope he's home in the next ten minutes to get them.

12:30pm

Hey, Joel. Are you home?

Joel

12:35pm

I am. Why? Is everything okay?

12:36pm

Yeah, everything's fine! Just was wondering if I could stop by for a minute.

Joel

12:37pm

Of course. I'll be here.

You find a big enough plastic container to store the cookies in, sealing them closed tightly after transferring the still warm treats to their little resting place.

For some reason, your heart is pounding out of your chest as you walk the ten feet to Joel's driveway, briefly admiring his shiny truck before you walk up to his front door. Your fist hovers above the reddened wood, a terrified lump forming in your overly-dry throat.

"Fuck," you curse, finally pushing your fist forward to knock gently.

The door swings open, and Joel is standing before you in a loose white t-shirt and sweatpants, your neck tensing a bit from how arid your throat has become.

With words failing you, you push the cookies forward with the biggest smile you can muster through your overactive nerves.

"What's this?" Joel grins, reaching one hand out to grab the container.

"Chocolate chip cookies," you finally push out. "As a thank you for yesterday and the flowers."

He smirks at you. "You're not supposed to reply to a 'thank you' with 'thank you'."

"Then these are 'you're welcome cookies'," you giggle, Joel following suit.

"Would you like to come in?" he asks, holding the door open a bit more.

You nod, thanking him as you step inside. His house smells of flowers, the scent instantly transporting you to a blooming field in the middle of nowhere with nothing distracting you from the nature that grazes your legs and fingertips.

"Where's Sarah?" you ask, following Joel into the kitchen.

"She's in her room. All she does is talk to her friends all day, but it's okay. It's summer."

You laugh. "Yup. Her teenage years are starting. Expect her to be on her phone a lot more than normal."

Joel rolls his eyes with a small chuckle. "It's an obsession." He opens the container, bringing it to that curved Greek god nose that you love so much. "Mmm, y/n, these smell amazing."

"I hope you like them."

His hands push the lid back down with a few snaps, his eyes fixed to yours. "I'm sure I will. Are you helping me maintain my hot dad bod?"

Instantaneous embarrassment and regret floods you, the results splashing up your cheeks in a climbing tsunami of intense heat. All you can do is laugh, and you don't know if it came off as awkward or playful, but you feel like you've began to sweat.

Joel turns and bends down into his refrigerator, grabbing two bottles of water, sliding one to you. You thank him, gulping down a few relaxing sips. The drinking allows you a moment to think on how to respond.

"Well—" you begin, being interrupted by the soft, sweet voice of Sarah.

"Hi, y/n!" she gives you a quick, excited hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I made you guys some cookies. Make sure you tell your dad to leave enough for you, okay?"

Sarah scoffs, crossing her arms. "If he doesn't, I'll be sure to let you know. Will you make more if he eats them all?"

"Of course," you giggle as you nod. Your face turns to Joel. "Well, I'm gonna get going. Thank you for the water."

He smiles, nodding his head slightly. "Of course. Let me walk you out."

"Bye, Sarah," you wave, the little girl not making eye contact as she waves goodbye with her other hand opening up the container of cookies.

Joel walks you back to your door, his hands going into his blue and white striped pajama bottoms. "Well, how am I supposed to thank you for your thank you?"

"You're just supposed to say you're welcome."

He chuckles, peering down at you with a shadow creeping down his eyes from his brows. "How about dinner? I can either cook or take you somewhere, you tell me."

Your body freezes, feeling as if you've been pushed into wet cement. Did Joel Miller just ask you out on a date?

"What? Really?" you can't feign your surprise.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Why not? We can do it tomorrow or tonight. Whenever and wherever you choose. Just let me know."

"And how am I supposed to one-up you for having dinner with me?"

Joel laughs, his head thrown back a bit, exposing his strong, veined throat. "It's a competition now, is it?"

"Damn right. You can't out-nice me, Joel."

He chuckles, his gaze settling onto yours. "Fine, then. I'll pick where to take you just to out-nice you on purpose. Pick you up at six-thirty?"

Giggling, you nod your head. "What's the attire?"

Joel taps his bearded chin with his first finger. "Something—nice?"

"Nice. Okay, I got it."

"See you later, y/n."

"Bye."

You step into your house, doing a short celebratory jig at just technically being asked out by Joel. Nothing could've prepared you for this day, but you're elated regardless. You know that he means this as a strictly friendly thing, and that thought will always sting any time you think of it, but right now you don't care. You get to spend another night with Joel.

It's nearly six-thirty, and you've done your makeup to the best of your ability, feeling more nervous than when you went to prom practically alone. You've put on your favorite dress that has always accentuated your figure, complimenting its delicate femininity.

You're not one that has a ton of confidence, but tonight, you feel beautiful. The thought of what Joel could be wearing sends your racing mind into a whirlwind of emotions. Being this nervous, excited, confident, happy and timid all at the same time has to be illegal. You've never experienced so many complex yet different feelings at once.

A rapping knock comes to your front door, your heart leaping out of your mouth and down to the window like a barking dog. You feel like it takes eons just to reach the doorknob, your wrist finally twisting and pulling it open to see a dapper-looking Joel.

He's sporting a plain navy button-up shirt with one button undone at the top, as well as fitted black slacks that the loose fabric of his shirt is tucked into. You can't recall a time where you've seen him look so well-groomed. Even his hair has been slightly slicked back, and his beard is more tamed and less lumberjack looking.

"Hi," Joel gives you a smile. "You look nice."

You chuckle, stepping out of your house to turn and lock the door behind you. "I don't think you've ever dressed so fancy."

"Hey," he feigns offense, "I can clean up some. I'm just more comfortable the other way."

"Well, forgive me for forcing you to be uncomfortable," you tease.

Joel laughs. "It was my idea."

He opens the passenger door to his truck, allowing you to hop in. Your eyes follow him as he walks around the front, stepping in to the driver's seat.

"No Sarah?" you ask as you turn to see an empty backseat.

Joel clears his throat as he begins to drive. "I asked her, but she wasn't interested in where we're going."

Your heart sinks a bit at the fact that he asked Sarah to join. This is definitely just a friend thing.

"And where is that?"

"Do you really want to know, or would you rather be surprised?"

You giggle, dramatically tossing your eyes back with a massive sigh. "I guess I'll wait."

Joel chuckles, leaning forward to turn on the radio. Music plays gently through the speakers, and you watch as Joel bops his head along. All you can do is laugh, admiring his boyish charm.

"What, you don't know this?" he asks as he turns it up a little.

You shake your head as your face begins to ache once again. "No."

"C'mon, it's Grateful Dead!" Joel sings off-pitch and very loudly, but it doesn't make you love it any less.

Your eyes never leave him as you laugh, the entertainment of the night being the handsome man beside you, serenading you in an over-exaggerated, theatrical manner. The entire time you are cracking up, the song fading off and Joel joins in with your laughter.

"Okay, I'm a shit singer," he says dramatically with a grin.

"No!" you beam, "I loved it."

His head turns to look at you with a gentle smile, melting you from the inside out with just a simple look. God, how does he manage to do that?

Joel pulls up to a nice Japanese restaurant, and you grin from ear-to-ear.

"Hibachi and sushi," he says to you. "I honestly don't really know if you like sushi."

"I do," you nod. "This place is expensive, Joel. You didn't have to take me here."

His chocolatey eyes soften, his brows lowering gently with them. "But I wanted to."

He walks around and opens your door, holding out a hand to help you step down from the truck. To your disappointment, he releases your palm from his, that pang of sadness tunneling through your stomach.

Joel holds the restaurant door ajar for you, and you thank him as you walk in. He quickly joins you, letting the hostess know that he made a reservation under Miller.

"Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Follow me." The hostess walks away with two menus tucked into her arm, but you're still lingering on the sentence that just left her lips.

You are desperately praying that Joel briefly blacked out and didn't hear her say that, but you know he did. At least she didn't think you were his daughter, right?

The hostess drops off the menus at a small, secluded table, away from the large hibachi grills that rage with fire and heat. Your eyes are fixed onto the menu, trying to get the Mr. and Mrs. Miller thing out of your head as best as you can.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why she said that," Joel says awkwardly, his eyes suddenly on yours.

It's like he can read your mind and sense the shift in your demeanor.

"Oh, please. It's fine. I don't care," you shrug it off, playing as cool as possible.

"Well, have you decided if you'd like sushi or the hibachi?"

He's changing the subject. Clearly he's uncomfortable with the idea of you two ever being more than friends. God, why must you hang on to every word he says and read into everything?

"I'm cool with sushi. The hibachi is—loud," you chuckle. "What about you?"

"Honestly, I've been craving some sushi. I'm glad you said that," he laughs wryly.

Your server comes over, taking your drink orders. Joel orders himself a beer, so you decide on some red wine for yourself.

"Just so you know, the sushi love boat is on special tonight if you two were interested in that. You'd each get your own choice of two rolls, including the sashimi and nigiri that comes with the boat."

You can't help but laugh, Joel giving you an apologetic, yet humored smile.

"I'm fine with it if you are," you say with a giggle.

Joel looks to the server. "We'll just decide what rolls we want by the time you get back."

"Of course. No problem." The young man leaves with a quick spin.

"God, y/n, why is the world trying to make this uncomfortable?" Joel eyes the menu with a grin.

"Because that's life," you laugh. "You have dinner with a friend and everybody tries to make it seem like it's more than that."

That same dark weight of melancholy settles into your chest, setting up its own tent for the night. You've just implied that you want this to be nothing more, only to ease Joel's mind.

"Which rolls have you settled on?" he asks, his eyes still scanning the menu.

"Definitely the spider roll and the spicy tuna."

"Ooo," he coos, "that sounds amazing. I'm really hoping that your next nice thing you do for our competition is let me try your rolls."

You giggle. "Only if I can try yours, too."

Once the boat of sushi is brought out, you notice that the rolls in the center are shaped into a heart. Your skin puts little effort into hiding the heat that is practically shining from your cheeks. Joel thanks the server, ordering himself his second beer, as you ask for a second wine.

You both dive in with your chopsticks, adding only a small dip of soy sauce to your piece before pushing it between your lips. You groan, your stomach's low growling reminding you of just how empty it is.

"Did you happen to have one of the cookies yet?" you ask, dipping your next piece of sushi into the salty brown sauce.

"I did. They're amazing, y/n, seriously. I'm a pretty shit cook. You gotta teach me how to make cookies that good."

A giggle escapes your throat. "I'd love to."

You're feeling less anxious now that you've had a full glass of wine, the alcohol simmering all of those racing thoughts and negative feelings a bit. Of course there's still that echo of sadness in your chest, but you're just happy to be sitting across from the fun, wonderful man who brought you here.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to come to your dad's barbecue?" Joel asks with perfectly innocent begging eyes.

"Oh, stop with that look," you laugh. "You're not guilting me into this one."

"I promise you won't be alone. I'll be there! Shit, I'd probably end up talking to you the whole time anyway."

"I don't think my dad would like that," you smirk. "He'd want you all to himself as usual."

"Well, too bad. He can entertain himself more this time."

"I don't know. I'll think about it," you smile softly. "Did he invite your brother Tommy?"

"He did, but he's not coming. He's having a rough time with his wife right now."

Your brows furrow with concern. "Oh, no. I'm so sorry to hear that."

Joel chuckles quietly, finishing the piece of sushi that's in his mouth. "You're sweet, y/n. Maybe some cookies would cheer him up."

"I'd definitely make some if he wanted them!"

He laughs, wiping at his mustache with the thick cloth napkin. "I know you would."

You're halfway through your second wine, and you think you've finally built up enough liquid courage to ask him a question that's been nagging at your brain since yesterday night at the fair.

"Can I ask you something without you thinking I'm weird?"

Joel looks to you with raised brows and a small, curious smirk on his glistening lips. "No promises there, but you can ask me anything."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Shut up. I just wanted to ask you how you think my dad would feel about us hanging out."

He's quiet for a moment, as if thinking of the correct thing to say. "I'm not sure. I don't see why it should be a problem. We're just friends—right?"

"No, I know. My dad can just be, well, my dad."

He chuckles, nodding his head. "I get what you mean. Truthfully, you're just a hell of a lot of fun and I enjoy being around you."

His words send a warm caress through your nervous system, your body lining with goosebumps.

"I enjoy being around you, too. Last night was the best fair experience I've ever had," you let out a laugh. "Every other time has been subpar at best."

"I completely agree! Seriously haven't had fun at a fair like that since I was a teenager. And that was when I could handle the rides much better."

"Oh, stop. You act like you're about to croak."

Joel laughs loudly. "It feels like it! Everything cracks and aches all the time. I'm a dad to an almost thirteen year old girl. Jesus."

"My body pops and hurts too. You're not special, Joel."

You both join together in laughing, your lips pressed to your wine glass to finish it.

"I don't have a daughter, though. You've got me there," you continue with a small giggle.

"Are kids something you want for your future?" he asks, downing the rest of his beer.

You nod. "Yeah, I'd like to think so. Being a mom scares me, but also holding a tiny version of yourself that you created with someone you love seems so magical."

Joel smiles fondly. "It is. One of the best feelings in the world."

The server drops off the check, and Joel quickly snatches it before you can even move your hand to grab it.

"I saw that gaze, y/n. This was my treat, not yours," he scolds playfully.

You roll your eyes. "Now I have to think of something nice again. Maybe I'll have to go to my dad's barbecue after all."

He chuckles. "Seems like a fair trade to me."

After you leave, Joel drives you back home and parks in your driveway, getting out to help you down from the truck again.

He walks you to your door, grinning down at you. "I had a wonderful time, y/n. Thank you."

"No, thank you. Dinner was delicious," you smile wide. Your eyes flick to your door, suddenly feeling courageous enough to ask, "Would you like to come in for a drink?"

Joel shifts the weight to his other foot, his expression unreadable. "Uh—I don't know if Sarah is waiting up for me or not."

"That's okay," you grin. "Another time."

He looks to the right at his house, then back to you. "You know what? She's probably just on her phone anyway. I could have a drink."

Your chest tightens with excitement, that giddy rush zipping through your bones. You unlock the front door, hanging your purse behind it on the coat rack. Joel follows you to the kitchen, and you bend down into your fridge.

"Okay, I don't have any beer since I'm not much of a beer drinker, but I have some very delicious gas station white wine that gets me through my lonely days."

Joel guffaws. "That's fine with me."

You retrieve two glasses from your cabinet, pouring the both of you a decent amount of wine into your cups. Before sipping, you give a light tap to the rim of his glass.

Joel quickly downs all of it, your eyes widening.

"Thirsty?" you ask with humor twisted into your words.

"Apparently," he laughs, pushing his glass towards you for some more.

You oblige, watching as he sips the alcohol this time. For some reason, you get the sense that Joel is uneasy, and you aren't sure why. Is he uncomfortable being in your house? Or is he worried about Sarah?

"Hey, if you're worried about Sarah, you can go home. It's okay, Joel, really."

His eyes meet yours as a gentle smile spreads onto his face. "No, she's okay."

Your hand stretches out to rest on his arm. "Then what's wrong?"

Joel's brows furrow together, his eyes seemingly filled with a worry that you're unsure of what its cause is. "I just don't know what to do."

"About what?"

You notice that Joel's body has grown closer to yours, and you can smell the fresh cologne that's been sprayed onto his chest and neck. He tucks your hair behind your ear, sending a bolt of electricity through your entire body.

In an instant, he's pressing his soft lips against yours, his hand cupped to your left cheek. You can't help but gasp at the unexpected contact, your pulse at an intense, dizzying rate. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, and it isn't nearly as timid as the initial kiss.

You move your hands to his hair, feeling the bit of gel he put in it before dinner tonight. Your body presses tightly to his, the moment intensifying as Joel pushes you against the closed refrigerator. A few magnets fall and tumble onto the floor, but you don't care. You're too busy with the hottest man alive on your mouth. He's a skilled and talented kisser, his tongue sliding against yours with such expertise, that you can't help but let out a moan of satisfaction.

Joel chuckles, both of his hands now on your hips, pulling you towards the erection that begs to be let out of the prison that is his slacks. Your body is ablaze, your hand traveling down to squeeze his thick length through the fabric.

He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes closed as he lets out a groan of approval. You can't believe how the night has turned. Also having you in disbelief, is the sheer size of his cock. Your hand isn't even long enough to cover him from the hilt to the tip.

"Joel," you whisper, panting from the intense arousal you feel. "Touch me."

Your breasts are rising and falling heavily, begging for his hands to reach out and grope them. His eyes fall to your chest as your hand continues to stroke him, a slight glaze of arousal setting over the whites of his eyes.

"Fuck, y/n. You're so beautiful."

Absolute music to your ears. The words you've craved to hear pass his skilled lips for so long are finally said. Joel squeezes his eyes shut briefly, his hands still on your hips. He quickly backs up, your hand reaching out to follow, but he gently stops you.

"What's wrong?" you ask breathlessly.

Joel briefly puts his hands on his hips as he shakes his head. "I can't, I'm sorry." He strides across the house, quickly making his way to the front door.

"Joel, wait—"

Before you're able to stop him, he's out of the house, closing the door firmly behind himself. You feel consumed by perplexity, unsure of what you did that caused him to leave. The ghost of his lips on yours still lingers there, like a whisper that can hardly be heard. Nothing confirms that this isn't a dream like the intense throb between your thighs.

You want to text him and ask him what went wrong, but truthfully you're too terrified. You've gone and ruined a perfectly good friendship all because you can't resist anything about him. The magnitude in which you crave him is unlike any desire you've ever had in your life. He's captivating in every sense of the word, and he's left you weak in the knees with dampened panties all from a steamy kiss.

The feeling of his weighty cock in your hand makes you bite your lip at the memory, another rush of arousal making your entrance flex tightly around absolutely nothing.

You despise how bewildered you feel, but even more-so frustrated by the unsatisfied tension in your body. The heat that Joel stirred within you is going to be left untouched by him, and it makes you scrunch your eyebrows in disapproval.

Getting ready for bed, you finally cave and decide to send Joel a text. It's maddening at this point, and your mind keeps replaying the moment over and over again.

10:30pm

I'm not sure what happened. Did I do something wrong?

You expect a text from him right away since he usually responds to you quickly, but you don't get one.

As you settle beneath your comforter, you lay awake, listening to the unfamiliar noises in your house that somehow seem louder tonight. You clutch the fabric of your bedsheets in your palms, praying that your phone will vibrate from your nightstand with an explanation from Joel.

But it never does.

****

#pedro pascal #javier pena fic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou fic #pedro pascal smut #yn fanfic #smut

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blue-blugs · 3 months

Text

head canons for born into the stars, chapter 4

I think Silco probably has a bunch of black catfish in a huge aquarium because he's a freak like that

Silco lives in a poorer part of town, near where Vi tutors later in life

Silco does not cook Vi and Powder dinner ever, they kind of exist solely off of microwavable meals. Because of this, it's really comforting to Vi whenever Vander or Caitlyn cooks for her.

Caitlyn's fancy espresso machine pisses Vi off more than anything but Caitlyn refuses to buy/use the instant Folger's coffee that Vi is used to, so in the mornings Caitlyn just makes enough coffee for the both of them with her steel beast of a machine

The morning routine between them is as follows: (1) vi: what's shakin' bacon (2) caitlyn: good morning vi (monotone, from behind her work computer), (3) they figure out what they want to do after work/school

I think Vi also weight trains, not just boxes, but she doesn't do the weight training until a different point in the day. Our girl is ripped. Also really tired

Caitlyn probably went to the bathroom or something at 4 am one morning and saw Vi leaving their apartment and was like "what the fuck" and then started to wonder what mentally ill shit Vi was up to

Also the bags under Vi's eyes were getting really bad and Caitlyn got concerned

I would like to think that to this day, Powder still gives Vi drawings of them as sisters

Powder and Vi can't call each other while Vi is in juvie, but Vander brings Powder to visiting hours often

Vi is hot but she's too busy/tired to date very much when she gets out of juvie. Caitlyn is the first person she considers in a really long time, but the desire waxes and wanes over the years due to her Issues

Caitlyn has been fucking down bad for Vi since she first laid eyes on that low-life sump-rat at work, but what was she to do? They're only coworkers, Caitlyn is awkward and weird as fuck, and Vi has no idea who Caitlyn is. She's ecstatic to find an excuse to talk to Vi about the Keurig hot chocolate lmao

Speaking of which, Caitlyn always reads in the break room when she and Vi work the same shifts bc she knows Vi always gets some sort of drink before teaching and Caitlyn is gay and thirsty as fuck

She just has no idea what to say to Vi before that interaction

Caitlyn considered dating Vi for a really long time when they first met. But then she got the vibe that Vi wasn't emotionally in a place to do it (esp. after finding out her Lore) and tried to ease into the idea of "just friends".

It didn't work

Caitlyn, our valiant goddess with a savior complex, upon finding out how traumatized Vi is: i could fix her

(and she could)

This is not plot-relevant but Vi is dyslexic in this universe and Vander did a Very Good Job helping her read when he adopted her

#arcane #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #headcanons #my fic

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casspurrjoybellbittner · 2 months

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Wreckless - Sweet Suite

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

A suite... sure... try the fanciest suite in town.

"Are you kidding me?" I ask as we go in.

There's a kitchen, and entire living room with huge double doors looking over the water, a balcony, and of course an amazing bedroom and bathroom.

"There wasn't much available, Emmett."

I'm not sure whether he means he wanted a nicer place or one a little bit more normal and I'm afraid to ask.

Instead I go out onto the balcony and that's when I lose my damn mind.

'Seriously? How? Huh?'

Is that a jacuzzi?

I walk out onto the deck because it's too damn big to be a balcony even if we are on the top floor and look at the view.

Only random vowels come out of my mouth so I give up and plop onto the lounge chair.

"I'll sleep out here, you can have the rest of the room."

I tell Finnegan when he sits in the chair next to me.

"Nope, not happening but we can lay out here all afternoon if you really want to."

"I want. Very much."

A nap is calling my name but I'm also starving.

"Need some food first."

"I'll get the menu."

Hot damn, we don't even have to leave this room.

Honestly, I don't feel the need to but I will take Finnegan to the beach if he wants to go.

Maybe we'll go out for dinner afterwards.

Whatever he wants, I'm really here for the ride.

This is what he wanted and needs and I'm gonna let him lead.

"I want a cheese plate and their house salad, please."

He holds the menu out to me and I take it but I only understand about three quarters of the words.

'What's an aoili? A tapenade?'

Well, it's hard to ruin crab cakes so I'm gonna order them anyway.

He's inside unpacking when I finish the call.

"Twenty minutes, darling."

"Great, thank you."

He looks a little bit lost or overwhelmed and I am too but I'm sure it's for different reasons.

He decides to try out the bed and lies down.

"Oh nice, this will do."

"Want a nap? You can get one after you eat and then we can do whatever you want."

"That sounds really good but I think I'll make some coffee instead. I don't want to sleep the weekend away."

Coffee it is.

There's a fancy Keurig type machine here so two cups of coffee is easy.

I pour mine over ice and sip it until lunch arrives.

Apparently those fancy things are a sauce and some sort of spread.

I'm not sure which is which but they're both delicious on my crab cakes.

Finnegan has been quiet but I'm not pushing the conversation because he may just need time to decompress.

I really don't know what's best at this point.

"I know you want to chill on the deck but can we go to the beach later? At least for a walk?"

"Of course darling, we can go now. We can swim, build a castle, whatever."

"But the deck?"

"It'll be here when we get back."

Might be a good way to spend an hour or two after dinner.

"Thanks Emmett. I appreciate you coming with me, especially last minute. Work is just... Well I don't want to think about it until Monday. I feel like everything is going wrong since we left here two weeks ago and maybe part of me thinks it'll be better now that we're back."

I've felt that way too but he had a much harder time with the burglary than I did and I don't want to imagine what's going on at work.

I tell myself that it can't be too bad or he wouldn't be able get away.

I have no doubt he's busy but nothing is on fire and that's probably as good as it'll get for a while longer.

"I'm going to change."

That's when I realize that I didn't answer him.

"Finnegan? Sorry, I was in dream land. Things back in Baltimore will get better but I understand what you mean, this is a safe space for you and heck, for me too a little bit and I'm glad we're back."

I give him a minute but I need to change too and it's nothing I haven't seen before.

He's standing in front of the dresser holding his rainbow trunks in one hand and his sharks in the other.

I hate that I feel so awkward.

Am I allowed to say anything?

To help him decide?

He tosses the sharks down, then picks them back up again.

"I'm being ridiculous. This is not an important decision."

He puts them both on top of the dresser, spins them around and mixes them up and then picks one.

Ah, his eyes are closed.

He's so funny.

"Rainbow it is."

"Never a bad choice in Rehoboth."

We have matching red trunks that we bought last time and I put mine on.

They're a bit shorter than I would usually choose but Finnegan had been fairly insistent.

"Damn, those are nice on you, Emmett."

"Thanks. I'm glad you approve. We need to get you some sunscreen. I brought the sand toys, should we bring them?"

"You did?"

"Of course. Is that a 'yes'?"

Finally, a smile.

A quick nod and then he's off, dashing into the living room.

It's taking him longer than I expected but I'm pretty sure that 'Little Finn's going to make an appearance.

Maybe we can have a lesson tonight, it's been awhile.

Damn, that sounds really good.

Really really good.

I think I need to be in 'Dom-mode' as much as he needs to be 'Little Finn'.

God I'm turned on, maybe he'll be willing to get off before we head out.

I want to tell him to come suck my cock but we're not there right now.

I also don't want to ask because treating him like Finnegan is gonna hold him back.

I take a deep breath and blow it slowly out of my mouth.

Watching him prance around in just shorts all afternoon is going to kill me... Kill.

"Emmett?"

"Yeah darling?"

"You okay?"

Him noticing sort of jolts me out of my head and I walk over and grab my backpack.

"Of course. You ready?"

"Yeah."

He takes my hand as soon as we're in the hallway and I give his a squeeze.

"We have to buy some sunscreen first and then we'll hit the beach, okay?"

"I know, stupid sun. Can we hurry?"

"It won't take long, I'm sure the hotel gift shop has some."

As fancy as this place is, we could probably request someone spritz us.

"Okay."

It's going to be okay.

This is just what we needed.

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cynicalrecoverysociety · 3 years

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Weekend Eating: A Post Mortem

This past weekend (my weekend, Mon-Wed) was not a great eating weekend for me. This is pretty common for me to do well during the work week and just go ham in the weekends. Imma break down this past weekend and see what I can do to help this trend.

First, my fasting habits were wack. My SO has a significantly different approach to IF and on the weekends I tend to try to adjust to meet whatever he is doing. We had a long discussion about this, and long story short, he acknowledged the way he eats on weekends works for him but not me and both of us trying to eat like the other just throws us both of. So we will be not trying to get the other person involved in our meals if we know they are still fasting. I have learned that consistency and discipline are the only way I succeed and for him that is a recipe for disaster. So we are going to be more mindful of that going forward.

Another thing is my mom. She brings us food constantly. Or I should say she offers at least. Basically every single day she will try to deliver something. So every single day I have to turn down delivered free fast food. I usually do. On Monday she offered us a free ham. We accepted but I knew it would be more than ham and it was. She also brought fruit (great!), chips, and chocolate. God I hated it. I haven't bought that shit in months and she brings it to me when I accept something else. I know this is how she shows love but as a food addict I cannot put myself in that situation again. Therefore I will now be rejecting every offer of food delivery going forward. I might no longer get free meats but I'm also not getting the sweets, chips and sodas that are literally killing me. I also tossed the remaining chips and candy. I'm proud of that even if I gave in and ate most of the candy before it left. I thought about talking with her about what she brings but in the past she got really into it and got me all the normal range of chips and sweets just shit that says "diet" or "100 calorie packs" or whatever which is not healthier just a different kind of garbage I can't keep in my house as an addict. 100 calorie pack just means I'll eat the whole thing in one sitting with 10x as much packaging. No thanks. So I'm just eliminating that. No reason to put that shit in my life.

I think those are the biggies. I have next to no self control, and I know studies show that people who succeed do not have iron willpower but take steps to avoid the temptation all together. My favorite example is if you are trying to quit coffee you don't go right into the break room and make eye contact with the Keurig until it has no power over you. You just don't go near the Keurig so the smells and sights aren't even an issue. I need to take the same approach with my food addiction. I think if this works out I will be in a really good place for consistency!

#fitspo #fitspiration #fat to fit #fitblr #fitfam #fitness #healthy

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non-stop-imagines · 5 years

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The New Recruit

Pairing: Quentin Beck x Black!Reader

Word Count: About 3k

Summary: Quentin falls for the new Stark Industries recruit hard and fast.

Warnings: A curse word, Quentin gets mad, not sure if its a FFH spoiler or not, but if you haven't seen it, it might not click; also gets a little steamy at the end

A/N: Okay, so I wrote this in half a day after fervently thinking of the plot at 3am. I can say that this was fun to write and I'm excited to add to the still low collection of Mysterio/Quentin Beck works. Hope you guys like it. Love y'all!💖💛💖💛💖💛

UNIVESAL TAGS LIST: @avc212 @beautifulwisdom2001 @iamzion-therealhabesha @cheychey10142 @jetaimeamore @thottio

Masterlist

_____

"Y/N, can you rush these documents to Frank down the hall, please?" Your supervisor asks, nose deep in her innovation, preparing it to be tested at the Stark Expo that was to take place in less than 3 hours.

"Of course. Would you like me to bring you back anything? Coffee or something?" You stand from where you sat at a workbench and take the file from her hand.

"No thank you. If you want you can get something for yourself, though." She looks up from her machine and smiles. You smile back and nod, leaving the room and being sure to close the door behind you. You begin to quickly make your way down the hallway, flipping through the pages in the file, lightly skimming them. It doesn't take long for you to reach the other scientists office, and after you hand off the files, you decide to make your way to the break room to get coffee. You pull your phone from your back pocket and begin to answer emails on it as you walk to the break room, taking small intermediate glances in front of you to be sure you wouldn't run into anyone. Unfortunately, just as you were getting ready to turn into the room, you bumped fairly hard into another person trying to make their way into the break room, making you both take a few steps back to keep from falling.

"Oh, I am so sorry. I should have been paying attention to where I was going." The guy takes a step towards you and hovers his hand over your shoulders. You look up into his fairly large bright blue eyes which displayed only concern for how you were.

"Oh, no. It was my fault I should have waited to answer these." You wave your phone and giggle a little, nervously fluffing your frohawk. "Are you going in?" You begin to reach for the door knob but the guy beats you to it.

"Yeah. Uh-here." He twists the knob and pushes it open letting you in first then following behind you. You make your way to the Keurig machine while he walks over to the vending machine in the corner. "I'm a Quentin, by the way." He turns back to you after vending a snack. You push down the top of the machine then turn back to look at him, wide eyed.

"Like, Quentin Beck? The creator of the headlining technology being showcased tonight?" You took steps towards where he sat at a table that increased in tempo with every movement forward. You sit down in the chair next to him but turn it so your able to face him.

"Yeah, that's me." He grins, cocky and flattered. He rub his stuble a bit while his ego quickly dulled as he admired your starstruck expression. The way your eyes lit up and widend, how your lips looked turned up in your wide grin, and the way you subconsciously twisted a curl from your frohawk around your finger.

"The work that your doing with augmented reality is amazing! I've been following your work for a couple of years now actually." You gush, startled when you hear the gurgle from the Keurig. You get up from your seat and make your way over to it, unnecessarily adjusting your cup.

"Well, thank you hun. I'm flattered, uh…" His face scrunches and eyebrows furrow as he tries to go back in his brain to figure out if you already told him your name.

"Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. Sorry, I just realized I didn't introduce myself." You turn around to lean against the counter.

"No need to be sorry." He quietly repeats your name to himself, rubbing his bottom lip. He soon stops and points at you, tilting his head, squinting his eyes and letting a small grin tug at the sides of his thin lips. "You're the new one. The one that got recruited to come to Stark Industries right after college."

"Oh, uh-yeah. A proud accomplishment of mine." You giggle and turn around to finish making your coffee, pouring in a hefty amount of creamer and sugar.

"So, how's it been, new recruit?" Quentin opens his bag of chips and pulls out a chip, eating it in one bite.

"Fine. Nothing all that great." You move over to the fridge and pull out the milk and pour some in, then finally place the top on the cup.

"Hmm… you workin on anything special?" He takes another chip than offers you one by nudging the bag towards you as you make you way back over to the table and sit. You accept the offer and grab a chip.

"No one has kept me on their team long enough for me to really work on something. I've just been passed from project to project. It's actually kinda annoying." You take a bite of the chip, eating it then chasing it with a swing of coffee. You look up to see Quentin's worried face, so you continue your words. "But I mean, I guess I'm pretty lucky to receive a position like this right out of college. It could be worse." You finish the chip and take a swing of coffee, taking another chip as Quentin tips the bag towards you again.

"You shouldn't settle though. From what I heard about you, anyone would be lucky to have you on their team." You nervously avert your eyes but smile to yourself as you eat your chip. "How about this," he lowers his head so he could make eye contact with you again. "You accompany me backstage today during the expo when Stark unveils my tech. And then after we'll talk about you joining my team." His lips grow into what seems to be his signature charming grin.

"I guess I could do that." You giggle. He just nods at your confirmation, leaving you both sitting there mesmerized by one another. At one point something told him to check his watch.

"Oh, we've been here for a while. Almost 20 minutes." He gets up from his spot, but doesn't move until you're up too. Once you guys get to the door he opens it for you, in which you nod your thanks and then he follows you out.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later. It was nice meeting you." You smile, fluffing your frohawk again.

"It was nice meeting you, too." He nods, then turns to walk away but abruptly stops and turns back around. "And, uh, I'll meet you at the backstage entrance, okay?" You nod your confirmation, allowing him to turn back around to head to his office. You nod once more to yourself then turn on your heels to quickly make it back to your supervisor's office.

_____

You move as quick as you possibly could in your simple black heels and surprisingly tight black skinny jeans to the backstage door, quietly opening it and looking around for Quentin.

"Hey," his sudden whisper startled you, causing you to let go of the door to cover your mouth, but then quickly recover in order to grab the door in time to quietly guide it shut. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" He whispers, trying not to laugh loud. All you could do was quietly chuckle with him. He looks you up and down loving how your mandatory all black outfit looked on your, you heels and jeans and you flowy chiffon blouse.

"It's fine. I'm just naturally very jumpy." You quietly giggle. You let your eyes roam up and down him once, first appreciating the way he looked in his black turtleneck, then chuckling a bit at how the size and color of his eyes makes them seem as though they glow in the dark.

"Come on, he just started." Quentin grabs your hand and pulls you over to stage right. He makes sure that you have a good view of the stage, grasping your hand a bit tighter in excitement as you two get settled. Your eyes flash between the stage and Quetin as the presentation presses on. You watch as a Tony walks across the stage, appearance altered by the device. Once everything disappears, he goes on to explain the therapeutic implications the device could be used for, which causes Quentin's grip to tighten. More time goes by and Tony soon gets to the title he decided to give the device: Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, more easily known as B.A.R.F. This causes Quentin's grip to tighten even more, and you receive sudden pull once the laughs and applause began.

"Quentin…" you strain to whisper, pain starting to shoot through your hand.

"Are you hungry?" The way he asked was stern but caring as he lightened his grip when he began to feel you wiggling your fingers to gain back feeling.

"Uhh- I guess-" You were pulled again out the backstage door to the hallway. "Okay, I dare you to pull me again."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry. Um, let's go get something to eat." His eyes seemed darker and he is obviously flustered.

"Ok. I just need to go get my things." You turn to go, but are stopped by Quentin's hand on your wrist.

"Thank you." Was all he could muster. You grin and nod the go to get your things.

____

"I just can't believe this technology that I have devoted the past two and a half years to perfect has basically been showcased as a play thing. And he FUCKING NAMES IT BARF, REALLY!!!" Quentin slams his hand down on the table, making you and the few people that still sat in the diner jump. You reach for his hand, grasping it with both of your hands and begin to rub his fingers. You can feel his hand physically lose tension as he continues. "He made a mockery of my work, Y/N." His head was lowered on the table right in front of his plate of food so his words were muffled but still audible.

"I mean, sure. B.A.R.F was a bit much, but what Tony wants to do with the tech is actually quite remarkable." You continue to rub. "Using it as a therapeutic device would allow people to go back in their mind and attempt to face their trauma head on if they wanted to." You finally remove your hands from his, adjust your blouse, and pick up a couple of fries to dip in your dipping sauce and eat.

"Well when you put it that way…" He groans and rubs his eyebrows, then grasps his BLT to take a bite. "I guess it's just… in the abstract of the research I had to do, it clearly states the intended purpose-"

"The purpose was just altered in a way that seemed to better suit the device in Tony's eyes." You dip a chicken strip in your ranch, taking a bite and giving yourself time to think. "Listen, from what is shown about Tony, I can tell that he can be an ass sometimes, but I know there's some good in him somewhere. Maybe this was a first step towards that better Tony or something." You shrug and take a sip of your lemonade. Quentin just looks down, purses his lips, and hums, then takes another bite of his sandwich. After a moment, he looks back up at you, grinning and bright blue eyes sparkling.

"How did you do that?" He chuckles.

"Do what?" You wipe your hands with a napkin and reach up to play with your hair a bit.

"Calm me down so fast. I'm typically a hot head." He furrows and lifts his eyebrows as his charming grin morphs to a questioning one.

"Oh, I have a naturally calm disposition, I guess." You say confidently, over exaggerating your facial expression and puffing out your chest, but jumping at the sound of the front door bell as someone enters. Quentin tries to bite back his laugh but couldn't do it and bursts out laughing, and you couldn't help but join in.

"Sure you do, hun." You heart skips at his pet name for you as you finish laughing. You pull your phone from your pocket and check the time. It was close to midnight. Quentin does the same and check the time on his watch. "Oh, it's almost midnight. Umm… I guess, you know if you don't mind, once we're done eating, I could walk you home." He shrugs and avoids eye contact, pursing his lips again, and grabbing a few fries to eat. You think for a moment, realizing that you still only met him today. You examine his body language, realizing that he's preparing for your rejection which you still consider. After a minute of pondering you decide to go against your better judgment.

"I guess that wouldn't be too bad." You giggle, finishing a chicken strip as Quentin looks back up at you.

"Great." He responds quickly, giving you a bright smile.

_____

You and Quentin walk out the elevator down the hall to your apartment hand in hand. You were practically skipping, swinging his arm with yours with each bound as he watches you, grinning at you like you were the moon and stars. You do this until you get to your door.

"Welp, this is my place," You turn to face him, but keep your grip on his hand.

"Thank you again, I probably would be in a bigger funk if you weren't there to calm me." He pulls you closer to him and then brings his arms around your torso, your first instinct to this motion was to bring your hands to his chest.

"Well, I'm glad I could help." You voice ended in a whisper as you looked deeper into his eyes. You guys maintain the closeness for a while, wishing you could stay like this forever, but knowing you couldn't. Quentin takes and extra moment to bring his face to your hair, inhaling.

"I should go." He mumbles, pulling you closer.

"I guess." You breath, closing your eyes as you feel his lips connect with your forehead. Once the feeling is lost you look up at him, backing away as he did, holding hands for a moment then fully pulling away.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He turns and slowly walks toward the elevator, but turns back around. "And we'll see if we can get that team change." There was that charming smile once again slowly disappearing as he turns toward the elevator again. You watched him, not wanting to leave. You thought quick, thumbing through ideas until-

"Quentin!" You call after him. He swiftly turns back around but stays where he stood down the hall. "I-uh-there's -um- something that I need your help moving. In my apartment." Your heart rate increased with every step he took back toward you, so you combat it by taking deep breaths.

"I guess I should help you then, huh?" The mischievous glint that appeared in his eye hypnotized you, but you visibly shook yourself out of it and turned to unlock the door, earning a low chuckle from him. You open the door and step inside, feeling Quentin close behind you. You hear the door close behind him and, after taking one last deep breath, you turn to look at him, fiddling with you bag's strap. You watch as his eyes lead from your shoulder to the floor, subliminally signaling you to drop you bag. You do so and then fiddle with your fingers.

Quentin's eyes darken again, but this time they seemed lust filled as he licks his lips, loving the way your brown skin looked under the light of the dull, lone lamp. Not even a moment later, he pulls you in by your belt loops and dips down his head to capture your lips. The pace of the kiss quickened immediately, the lustful tension that grew between you two finally being released. You pull him closer to you by placing an arm around his neck, lacing your hand through his hair as your other hand perched on his jaw, thumb running over his stubble. He moves his hand, running them up your shirt, loving the feeling of your bare skin on his hands. The kiss deepens as the battle between tongues begin, but you were no match for his as he dominated the entire time. You did attempt to take control by pushing him back into the door, removing your hand from his jaw to up his shirt, stepping forward a little so his thigh was in-between your legs. He pulls away leaving both of you panting.

"Honey, honey, wait. Are you sure you want to do this? Cause if we start this, there is a very small chance that we'll stop." He was out of breath, but his cocky smirk still held a great amount of power. You watched his face as his expression softened, waiting for your answer. You reach up and cup his face with both hands, pulling his face down and placing a deep kiss on his lips. He syncs the movement of his lips with your and brings his hands back down to your hips. The kiss stayed lustful, even with the absence of tongue, until you finally pulled away.

"I guess you're right again, Beck." You, stroke his cheek one more time then back away, pulling your phone from your back pocket. "Here. Put your number in." You hand him the phone then turn around to place you bag next to the table you see upon entering your place. You turn back around and receive your phone from him, looking at the new contact on your phone then up at him. "I'll text you my current supervisor's email so we can get the team switch situated." You voice was cocky as you stepped closer to him.

"Y/N, you really are something." He smirks, then bends down to give you one last deep kiss. He pulls away and reaches back to open the door. "I'll see you tomorrow." He grins, eyes smiling more than he was.

"See ya tomorrow." You grin back, biting back the wide smile you wanted to show. He waves one last time the turns to get to the elevator. You close your door and press your back against it, sliding down to the ground and dreamily sighing.

#black reader #marvel imagine #marvel #spiderman: ffh #spiderman: far from home #quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck x black reader #mysterio x reader #mysterio x black reader #mysterio #quentin beck imagine #mysterio imagine

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sunderedazem · 5 years

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If You're Not Eating, But Need To:

So, I've recently been going through a pretty long depressive episode, and one of my biggest problems (besides the obvious) is that I tend to avoid eating when I'm experiencing this. Obviously, this is kinda not a good thing, so if you're going through something similar, I put together some of the tips I've been using to help myself out - in the hope I can help someone else.

General Tips!

Keep snacks on hand. Small snacks, like granola bars or a pack of trail mix. Munch when you have a spare moment

Keep food close by - if you can't get out if bed some days, keep a stocked cooler or a box of non-perishables in your bedroom

For the days you can get out of bed - easy food. Microwaveables, five-minute dinners, sandwiches, finger food. Boxed mixes work well for this, or prepackaged meals that you can heat up

If you're feeling good one day - take the time to make a few extra lunches for the future. Use things that won't spoil easily.

Keep favorite foods on hand. For me, that's hot cocoa and Funyuns. Is it healthy? Hell no. Is it better than nothing? Hell yes.

Reward yourself for eating a full meal, especially if it's well-balanced. If you sit down and eat, treat yourself to a sweet afterward. (Dark chocolate, in my case)

Eating food > healthy choices. First, get the hang of putting food in your body regularly, then you can start worrying about what it is.

College Tricks!

Keep food in your dorm room for when the cafeteria is too far away. Ramen is unhealthy, but it's easy to make with a friend's Keurig.

Oatmeal also works really well for this purpose, and is my personal favorite.

Ask a friend/roommate to bring something back for you if you can't get out of bed

Better yet, schedule a mandatory dinner/lunch meet-up with a friend or roommate every week, if you can.

If you can, put aside a few bucks a week when you're feeling okay, so you can have a little stash when/if you need to order food.

Keep a schedule. Know when you're going to be close to the cafeteria for your classes, and schedule in mealtimes. Work homework and etc around them

Starting Again (after a period of not eating)

The nausea is real, and it gets me really hard after I have to try and start eating again, so here's what helps me there.

Start with liquids - not water, something with calories. For me, that's Gatorade or juice. If it's too sweet, cut it with water.

Bland foods work best. Saltine crackers/soda crackers are a good choice. So is plain bread or toast with butter.

Also, soup. Anything with a chicken-broth base usually works well for me (and yes, this can include ramen). Cream-based soups are heavier - I avoid them at first.

Applesauce is another that works for me. Fresh fruit in general works for me, in small amounts. Especially apples, for whatever reason.

Plain pasta. With butter or olive oil, usually, and in small quantities.

If you're craving something (for me, usually olives or pickles, probably because the salt) indulge. Not too much, just in case, but eat it.

Smoothies. I do use protein powder, because I don't eat much meat. Usually I toss a banana, rice milk, ice, and my protein powder in a blender and drink that slowly.

Milk and soymilk are heavy liquids, in my opinion - rice milk isn't. I'm lucky that my school has rice milk, but otherwise try to avoid dairy.

Sorbet over ice cream. It has the added bonus of you rewarding yourself for eating!

Again, for right now- Eating food > Eating healthy. Eat your favorite foods and use them to coax yourself back onto a routine. Once you get a routine down, you can start injecting healthier options

Anyway, this is just some stuff that's helped me in the past and recently, so I thought I'd share! Feel free to add things I've missed.

(note: this isn't about anorexia - it's about me not having the energy to force myself to eat, even when I'm hungry. I have no idea if this will work for folks with eating disorders, though I hope that it might be able to)

#solaspeaks #depression #depressive episode #eating tips #tw depression #tips #depression tips #college tips #strategies & tips #for dealing with forgetting to/avoiding eating #personal #...yeah #I've been very guilty of this recently #but here's what's been helping me

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bibliosexxual · 7 years

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Hey so i read one of your works on Ao3 and it was super adorable and i loved it, it was about stiles and derek sharing a broom closet of an apartment in nyc and cuddling thier way through their issues with eachother and then you wrote a hashtag epilogue, and i can't stop thinking about how much i wanted the epilogue to be another story so i figured i'd ask, my names scarletwaters on Ao3, ok bye and thank you if you decide to write it :)

little spoon

I had given absolutely ZERO thought to writing a sequel to this, and then I read your message and the ideas started flooding in. Go figure.

also on ao3

Being Derek’s boyfriend goes surprisingly well for a whole year. They move out of the tiny “apartment” into a slightly less tiny apartment. They continue to spoon; they become spooning masters; they are the gods of spooning. Stiles gets the best sleep of his life, and so does Derek. The non-sleeping aspect of the whole dating thing takes a bit more time to iron out, sure, but they get there. Slowly but surely, they figure out how to hold hands on the couch while watching Netflix without getting weird about it. They figure out, to their mutual relief, that endearments weird them both out, but there are other little things they both like even if they’d never admit it on pain of death, such as forehead kisses. They figure out how to do the whole shower sex thing without serious injury. Stiles also finds out Derek is awesome at cooking, when he can be assed to do it. Stiles figures out a lot of very creative ways to motivate him.

All in all, awesome.

Then…. well, then It happens.

It’s been about a year and three months when, one day, Stiles happens to see Derek coming out of a jewelry store.

He wasn’t following Derek or anything, he wants the record to be very clear on that; it’s just, they were going to meet up at the Chinese restaurant on the corner for dinner, and Stiles got there early. Usually Stiles doesn’t arrive early anywhere ever, but this time one of his classes got canceled at the last minute and he suddenly had all this spare time, and so he went ahead and snagged them a table at the restaurant.

That’s where he is when it happens, just people-watching out the window and contemplatively sipping his oolong. That’s when the door to the jewelry store across the street opens and Derek comes out, head down, busy tucking a suspicious little black box into his inner jacket pocket, and Stiles spits out his tea all over the table because what the fuck.

Why would a dude who doesn’t wear jewelry, and who’s dating another dude who doesn’t wear jewelry, be in a jewelry store?

He’s not, like, out buying diamonds for his mistress. He’s not cheating on Stiles. Stiles doesn’t even contemplate that for a second. But he’s not buying something for his mom or his sisters, either. Stiles doesn’t think that’s likely, anyway. Derek saves all his money for rent and school and treating Stiles to the fancy pizza he likes to get on weekends. Last year he gave his mom a book—hardcover, but still—and his sisters each got a scarf. (Stiles got a cheap but competent little keurig and, later in private, a very memorable night in bed.) Besides which, it’s not even close to Christmas or any of Derek’s female relatives’ birthdays, and as far as Stiles knows, there’s no need for any apology presents; he hasn’t mortally offended any family members recently.

Was Derek… Was Derek looking at engagement rings?

No.

It doesn’t make sense.

All Stiles can think is that it must be an engagement ring. But it can’t be. Can it?

That’s about as far as Stiles gets before Derek arrives. Stiles’ heart seems to think that’s an emergency situation, because he can feel the jolt of adrenaline. He takes a huge gulp of tea, eyes watering, and decides he officially didn’t see anything. Nope. No jewelry store visits here. Just a nice dinner with his boyfriend, yep.

Stiles keeps thinking about it.

Sure, it turns out they’re stupidly awesome together. They just work. Their old bickering has turned into fun snark and teasing and affection, and it’s pretty great. But Stiles is only twenty years old. This is only his second relationship ever, and his first serious one, and his first one with a dude, and it still feels kind of new, and no way is he ready to put a ring on it.

He still gets these moments of Whoa, what even is my life sometimes when he thinks about the fact that he and Derek are dating now and not in their weird hate/UST feud anymore. He still pauses sometimes in the middle of telling someone Derek is his boyfriend, like, Whoa, he IS my boyfriend now, isn’t he. Wow.

He’s still adjusting, is what he’s getting at here.

They skipped a few relationship steps when they went from semi-hating each other to boning and dating and living together all at once, and it’s kind of a miracle it’s worked. Several of their friends and Derek’s big sister and Scott actually had a bet going at first about how many days it would take before they’d break up. Scott was the only one who bet they wouldn’t break up at all. There were a few close calls in the first few months, close enough that Stiles could practically hear the rustle of money preparing to change hands, but they fixed it. They figured it out. They learned.

By now they’re actually getting good at this whole boyfriends thing.

They’re enjoying it.

They’re having fun.

They’re not even remotely ready to get married.

“SOS, I think Derek is going to propose,” Stiles tells Scott in a whisper the next time they’re on the phone. He has to tell someone.

“Propose what?” Scott says, sounding distracted. This is what Stiles gets for calling him at his internship at the vet’s. He’s probably sticking a thermometer up a cat’s butt right now or something.

Stiles thumps his head on the refrigerator door a few times. “Propose what? What do you think? Marriage, Scott.”

On the other end of the line, Scott makes an unidentifiable noise reminiscent of a cat with a hairball. Or maybe that actually is a cat with a hairball.

“I’m serious,” Stiles persists. “I think I saw him buy a ring. I don’t know what to do.”

“Why do you think I know what to do?” Scott says, which… good point. “But, uh, congratulations, that’s awesome. Hey, now we can be brothers for real! Are you going to be Stilinski-Hales or Hale-Stilinskis? Are you gonna have a party?”

“Wh— Scott, I’m not gonna say yes.”

“Oh,” Scott says. He sounds disappointed. There’s a pause, and then he says, quiet, sounding incredulous, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh. Okay, then… I dunno, bro. Google it? And I can send you some cute animal pictures when I get off work.”

“Thanks,” Stiles sighs. He has a bad feeling about this.

Stiles feels like a spy, and not in a good way, erasing his browser search history:

how to find out if your boyfriend bought a ring

how to tell if your boyfriend is about to propose

afraid of commitment

afraid of commitment just a little bit

how to turn down proposal

how to tell your boyfriend no when he asks you to marry him

how to say no without crushing your boyfriend’s hopes and dreams

does saying no to a proposal ruin a relationship forever

am i about to tank my relationship with my boyfriend

HELP ME

Stiles gets a little… on edge. Like:

Derek appears in the bathroom doorway one night while Stiles is brushing his teeth. “So I was thinking,” he says. He has his serious eyebrows on, and Stiles immediately thinks about wedding rings and chokes on his toothpaste.

It turns out Derek wasn’t trying to propose. He was going to ask Stiles if he wanted to try flavored lube. Stiles feels like an idiot.

Still, it feels like they’re sitting on a ticking time bomb. Any moment they’re together, Derek could pop the question, and Stiles has no idea when. Is Derek going to plan it, like, is Stiles going to come home one night to rose petals and mood music? Or is Derek going to impulse-ask when they’re in the middle of doing it in the shower? When?!

The possibility is in the back of Stiles’ mind all the time. He’s freaking out, and it’s making Derek freak out, and for the first time in forever neither of them can fall asleep while spooning, and… yeah, it’s basically a disaster.

“Okay, stop,” Derek says one night. Stiles is straddling him on the couch, shirtless. They’ve been making out ever since the movie ended and Derek leaned over and started nuzzling his neck. Stiles isn’t sure what’s gone wrong; he’s honestly been going on autopilot for the last few minutes, wondering where Derek hid the ring box. It’s not in his sock drawer because Stiles checked there yesterday.

Stiles pulls back a little. “What?”

Derek nudges his hips up pointedly against Stiles’, against where Stiles is not even a little bit aroused, and Stiles winces.

“Yeah, okay. I was kind of thinking about, um. Something else.”

“You’ve been thinking about something else for weeks,” Derek says, rubbing his thumb a little sadly on Stiles’ hipbone.

“Yeah, I have,” Stiles sighs. Might as well not deny it.

Derek frowns and drops his hand away.

Sometimes Stiles has the absolute worst timing in the world, and the next moment proves it, because just as Derek looks up at him, mournful, and asks, “Do you want to break up with me?” Stiles demands, “Do you want to marry me?”

There’s a moment of utter, utter silence, except for the dishwasher running in the other room. Stiles’ hands spasm on Derek’s shoulders. Derek’s eyes look like they’re about to bug out of his head. Stiles really, really wants to disappear into the floorboards.

“Stiles, I, uh,” Derek flounders after a moment. “You…”

Stiles decides that’s a good moment to stop sitting on Derek’s lap, and maybe also put his shirt on again.

When that’s done, he just stands there by the TV, hugging his arms to his chest. Derek just continues sitting there on the couch, staring at him. In the kitchen, the dishwasher finally cuts off. Now the apartment really is silent.

“On the bright side, I don’t want to break up with you,” Stiles offers.

“Yeah, I got that,” Derek says. His hands clench and unclench in his lap. He takes a deep breath. “Stiles, listen, I’m flattered—I’m honored—that you want to marry me, but I just don’t think we, um, I don’t think it’s really the right—”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says faintly, and then, louder: “Oh my god, no. I’m not proposing, oh my god—” Before he knows it, he’s laughing, doubled over, tears coming out of his eyes. He can’t stop. It’s probably the nail in the coffin of this fiasco of a conversation, but it’s just such a relief.

“Stiles?” Derek says, tentative.

With great effort, Stiles gets himself under control. “I don’t want to marry you. You’re the one who wants to marry me.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, I know, but. But you’re the one who bought a ring!”

Derek scratches his head. “But I didn’t buy a ring.”

“I saw you! At the jewelry store! The night we went out for Chinese food.”

Derek groans. “Stiles, I was buying a present for Cora. It’s her high school graduation in a month.”

“Oh,” Stiles says. Why didn’t he think of that?

“Yeah. I wanted to get her something special. I’ve been saving up for it. I’m definitely not about to propose to you. No offense.”

Stiles comes back around the coffee table and sits down on the couch again, head on Derek’s shoulder. “Thank fucking god.”

Derek smiles and reaches out, takes Stiles’ hand. “I don’t mean this in a bad way, but I think being married to you would be a little bit terrifying.”

When Stiles laughs, it’s in pure relief. “Same, man. Same.”

Joke’s on them, because three years later Derek does propose, and this time Stiles says yes.

(end)

#scarletwaters #my fic #little spoon #should i put this on ao3 y/n?#like as a ch.2 to little spoon?#EDIT: i put it on ao3 #thank you guys for the feedback

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