#best Calorie Counting Apps

[sk1nnysuccubus]

walked around and moved quite a bit today, just now having my second meal. just barely over 100 cal :)

still need to do my 30 minute walk/general exercise later, so im gonna have a bit of pork tonight for dinner. just a bit!! it's shockingly less calories than i expected

[autobahnmp3]

well I'm meal planning so I don't have to decide what to eat and also so I'll have like.... nutritious meals lol

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Like You Mean It: A Nikprice Mafia AU

John is invalided out of the military and is struggling to adjust to civilian life, stuck in a cycle of poor coping mechanisms and denial. He gets sent to Chester by his younger sister to service a client that has scared all her other employees. Little does he know that the appointment will change the trajectory of his life forever.

cw: post-traumatic stress disorder, extremely poor attitude to his own disability, toxic coping mechanisms.

“How is the new hobby going? Painting, isn't it?”

Price frowned at the table in front of him, counting the rings of coffee stains. Four. “It didn't work out.”

“Oh, that's a shame. What happened?”

Price swallowed, his fingers twitching on his knees. He could tell the truth: that the inane, witless conversations had bored him to death, or that one of the women had started flirting with him and it had made him uncomfortable, or that the paintbrush had felt unwieldy and small in his hands, that it looked wrong there, or that he had lost his temper, overwhelmed by something he couldn't put his finger on, and thrown the canvas to the floor before limping out, or…

“It jus’ didn't hold my interest. ‘M sure I'll find somethin’.”

The therapist tapped her notepad with the end of the biro and studied him closely. She was one of the best, Mac had said. Worked with all the old boys that invalided out after a lifetime in the service. She helped them get back on their feet, navigate civilian life, and finally put to bed some of the ghosts they dragged behind them. Price had to give her a chance to help, which meant opening up some of those wounds he’d let heal badly over the years. Sally was nice enough, and he was trying not to let his own internal battles influence how he regarded her. Sometimes, she made that hard.

“How are the nightmares? Any better?”

“Yeah, they… uh, they don' happen as regularly.”

“When was the last one?”

Last night. “Coupla weeks ago, I reckon.”

She wrote that down. Price tapped his knees again and glanced at the watch on the table. She made him take his off because he had spent the first two sessions glancing at it. The compromise had been that she would set an alarm on hers. It was a brand new smartwatch, she said, it tracked her calories, her heart rate, had GPS. The kind of thing his watches had been doing for years, except his watches could call in an air strike and track enemy combatants across the field of battle.

The old one, that is. His new one just told the time.

Her husband had bought it for her, so Price had said it looked very posh.

“Have you given any more thought to the dating app we talked about?”

The watch beeped. Thank fuck.

“Whelp.” He clapped his hands together before rolling to his feet with a quiet groan, a combination of actions that he knew made him appear ten years older than he actually was. “I'll see ya next week then, Sally.”

She handed him back his watch and he slipped it over his wrist, before she placed the notes down on the table. Given that his eyesight was still sharp, he caught the words, ‘denial’, ‘withdrawn’ and ‘isolated’ amongst the scrawl. His jaw twitched and he averted his gaze. This was one assessment he didn't seem to be passing in flying colours. She gave no indication she had realised he'd seen. “Companionship, John. Even a friend that has nothing to do with the service. It will do wonders.”

“Right. I’ll… work on that.”

It was raining when he stepped outside, grey clouds stretching across the skyline in a dark, homogenous blanket. He almost skidded on a drain, his uneven gait prone proving more of a liability in the wet, as he walked across the car park, and he swallowed the resulting grimace even though there was no one around to see. He did it more out of habit than anything else; show no weakness.

When he slumped into the seat of his old Honda Civic, he sat in the mute silence for a moment, watching the raindrops tumble down the windscreen. His leg throbbed, the tight scar tissue pulling, tendons creaking under tension, and he looked down at his knee with a scowl.

It had been a building falling on him that had done him in the end, trapping his leg for seven hours while his task force dug him out. Ghost had dragged him out by his bitch strap, and then carried him to casevac, with Soap doing his best not to look at the mangled state of his captain's leg as he covered the rear. A miracle that he hadn't lost it, they said. That he hadn't been crushed completely.

A miracle.

So, now, he got to rot away slowly in a small, one-bedroom flat in Liverpool, with TV dinners and Coronation Street. He walked through the world numbly, like he was observing it from afar, through frosted glass. The only brief glimpses of feeling he got was when one of the 141 messaged him. Sometimes a picture, other times a text. They were few and far between. It wasn't that they didn't care. They were busy. He knew the demands more than anyone. The world didn't stop turning because Bravo Six had left the game.

That didn't stop him checking his phone every few hours, just in case he had missed a notification. Checking his watch so he could tell himself where in their routine they would be.

He did it now.

1400, Tuesday.

If they weren’t on mission, Simon would have the experienced operators running drills with the trainees. It was autumn, which meant the start of bad weather and low visibility environs. It was likely he would do a jump in a few weeks with full kit to test the development of their survival skills.

He glanced at his phone. Nothing.

With a deep sigh through his nose, Price jammed his keys into the ignition and turned. The old car choked into life, the engine ragged in the cold, and he clicked it into ‘Drive’. He was grateful for the bloody thing, really. Those first few months of riding around on the bus had nearly been enough to send him to an asylum, with screaming kids and the constant smell of piss from seemingly every person that sat down. When his GP had approved him to drive an automatic, he'd almost dropped to his knees to fellate the bastard in gratitude.

He didn't really track his drive home. Stopping at reds, giving way, flicking down the indicator as he turned corners. The streets, houses and people of Liverpool passed by in a colourless smudge until he was pulling into his car parking space and staggering out in the rain. It happened a lot; the disappearing into his own head. Like his brain was giving up without stimulus and switching into standby mode.

The lift was still out of order despite his numerous phone calls on behalf of the residents, so he turned into the stairwell and began the arduous climb to the third floor. Gone were the days when a phone call from John Price moved literal armies. Now he couldn't even get fuckin’ Bill from maintenance out with a screwdriver to fix the fuckin’ lift so Jenny, eighty years old and wheelchair bound, could leave to do her groceries.

By the time Price reached the top of the first flight, his leg was burning; by the second, he was breathless from pain, and by the third, his eyes were welling with tears. The pain from his leg seemed to burn through his entire body, clutching his chest in a vice, bile and nausea building in the back of his throat, and he was having to stifle the sounds punching from his chest by biting on his knuckles.

His hands shook as he extracted his front door key, and continued to do so as he tipped more than a single dose of his strongest painkillers into his palm, the kettle hissing behind him on the countertop as he slid to the floor. He didn't wait for the tea to brew, but necked the pills dry, crunching them down in between huffing deep breaths through his nose.

There had been a time after his injury that he had believed he would recover and return to the field. A small part of him still did sometimes, but all it took was a set of stairs to truly humble him, leaving him whimpering and shaking on his kitchen floor. Pathetic, weak. How far he had fallen. He turned his face into his palms and pressed the heels hard into his eyes.

When he looked up again, the room was dark.

Price latched a hand on the edge of the countertop and pulled. His bad leg was stiff, seized with cold and aching, and his right one was numb from where he'd been sitting on it. His stumbling efforts would have made for a great Benny Hill sketch, he thought bitterly.

Once he had set the kettle reboiling and a frozen TV dinner in the microwave, Price checked his phone. One message. From his sister.

Carol (16:00): How did the appointment go?

Price glanced at the clock. 1900. Bollocks.

Price (19:00): Good.

Carol (19:01): Three hours to write that. Nice one, John.

He sighed, smacking the top of the phone into his forehead in frustration, before typing out a response.

Price (19:04): We talked about the painting thing, some old missions, and she asked me about the dating app.

Carol (19:05): did you make the profile yet?

Price (19:06): what the fuck do you think?

Carol (19:07): stop being a miserable cunt and do it

Price (19:07): No one wants to date a cripple.

He didn't send that one. It read far too much like self pity and that just turned his fucking stomach.

Price (19:07): If I wanted someone nagging me 24-7 I'd move in with you.

Carol (19:08): Prick.

Price (19:08): Yeah, tthat'd be a fine thing.

Carol (19:09): omg 😭

Carol (19:11): Gary says you never text back about games night. Kimmy wants to see you.

Gary was Carol’s “gay bff”—her words. He’d been a godsend when her bottom feeder of a husband had finally pushed the old bill too far and got himself nicked for possession with intent to sell and GBH. Price owed the bloke a lot, because he’d picked up the slack where a big brother should have been. He was pretty sure Carol had tried to set them up once, which would have gone about as well as trying to get a Labrador to date a Persian cat. Gary would have shredded Price with his kitten claws in minutes.

Price (19:12): Depends on my shifts, boss.

Carol (19:13): Ok.

Carol (19:13): Don't give up on us.

Carol had saved him enough already. She had been the one to force him to retrain at college so he could work at her salon. Physical therapy and massage. Something to do with his hands that wasn’t killing people, she’d said. Besides, she wanted to attract more male clientele and his machismo would make them feel less emasculated about seeking support. He felt like there had been a hidden barb there, but hadn’t pressed. Price swallowed the lump in his throat and stared into his dark kitchen for a moment before he replied.

Price (19:14): trying

Carol (19:15): I know

Carol (19:15): love you big bro

Price (19:16): love you too, love to Kimmy.

He shoved his phone into his pocket as he poured his tea, taking it black despite the presence of milk in the fridge. That was at the other end of the kitchen and the pain killers hadn’t yet kicked in properly. His microwave meal seemed more or less cooked through, the steam searing his fingertips as he tugged off the plastic lid, so grabbed a fork and headed into the dark sanctity of his living room.

His flat had always been sparse, with basic furniture, a handful of books and family photographs. None of the ‘homely’ touches you’d expect of a home. In all fairness, he had never spent a lot of time here—only a few days leave if he’d been at a loose end. But even then he had preferred sleeping in Carol’s spare room, doing the school run in the mornings so she could have a less hectic start to the day, and making sure the house was clean, that there was something edible on the table in the evenings. Fat chance of that now. She didn’t need another deadbeat arsehole on her couch twenty-four hours a day. She’d done her time with that bullshit. So Price had only visited a handful of times since being discharged; once to take a look at a leak under the kitchen sink, and then to check the weird noise her car had been making when the temperature dropped.

Price slumped into the permanent dip of the right hand sofa cushion and took a moment to bask in the relief, tea and dinner hovering over his lap. Some days, he wanted to stay on the damn sofa and rot into it, but the stubborn streak that had managed to survive the last few months wouldn’t let him. He had to be doing something—anything—even if that was hobbling about the supermarket for Jenny while the lift was out of action. A last, defiant stand against the listless void left behind when they had taken the service from him.

He dug the clicker from where it had fallen down the side of the cushion and turned over just in time for the opening credits of Coronation Street, blowing over the heap of white rice and tasteless curry in front of his mouth. His mind faded out into white noise as he ate mechanically and knocked back his tea to wash the taste away. The episode hadn’t even finished before he was pulling the fleece blanket from the other cushion over his lap, eyes drooping closed. He checked his phone once more before he placed it on the lamp table for the final time.

The storm outside picked up a notch and Price felt it tremour through the old building, and he watched the rain lash against the balcony windows as fitful sleep dragged him under.

—

“This is Bravo Six in the blind; Watcher—ahh, Watcher, do you c-copy?”

Static.

”Kate… Kate, please… fuh-ck, Watcher, this S-six in—“

The rubble above his head moved. He held his breath. There was nowhere for him to move. Nowhere for him to run. It had taken an eternity to wrestle his arm free enough to get to his radio. If the rubble shifted now, it would crush him.

The pain was blinding. Like white hot pokers stabbing through every muscle. If he hadn’t been able to move his arm, he would have assumed his spine or neck were broken. Maybe both. He could feel his right leg, but not his left. Couldn’t even see it.

”Watcher, do you copy?”

Static.

”Kate, please… don’t let me die down here, don’t… please…”

His pleas were soaked up by the oppressive silence. The muffled, muted space that seemed to swallow his voice.

Suffocating nothingness.

Static.

He couldn’t move. Not an inch. His trap was closing in. Crushing him. Several tons of concrete and steel pressing down on his ribs, his legs. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t breathe.

—

Waking up felt like he was having to claw himself out from beneath that rubble himself, chest heaving, the neck of his t-shirt stained dark as he fought his way back to the surface. Early morning light was leaking through the balcony door, the spots of rain still clinging to the glass making the living room glitter like a disco ball hung from the ceiling. He lifted a shaking hand from beneath the fleece and smoothed his damp hair back over his head, mentally counting through the grounding exercises Sally had taught him.

Feel, see, hear, touch.

Like he’d been run over by a Challenger—his ceiling—phone alarm—blanket.

Price threw out a hand and managed to swipe his damn phone off the table. Cussing and snarling, he slumped onto the floor, fishing it out from beneath the lamp stand. He didn’t have enough energy to climb his way back onto the sofa, so he sat there once he’d switched the alarm off, staring into space. The world slowly filtered back in, his senses spreading out through the room, latching onto anything that connected him to the reality outside his head. Unfortunately, that also brought with it the constant dull throb of pain in his left side.

That last mission had been the final crack in a dam he hadn’t even been aware of. Over twenty years of difficult operations in the most inhospitable environs and his mind had soldiered through, unbroken, robust. Colleagues and friends had fallen before him, so he knew what post-traumatic stress disorder looked like, but it was something that happened to other people. Not him. Not in a million fuckin’ years.

But leave him trapped under some rubble for a few hours and suddenly every difficult experience, every interrogation, every period spent trapped behind enemy lines at their mercy, every close call, every fallen soldier, they all came flooding back like vengeful demons that had been caged in the pits of hell to tear off their pound of flesh.

The nightmares weren’t always the same. Sometimes, his subconscious decided to dredge up an experience from over a decade ago to torture him with. A few nights ago, it had been the interrogation that had left him with burn scars over his lower back. A month spent in an Al Qatala detention facility before Mac had extracted him. He hadn’t broken—had given them bloody nothing—and had passed the psych eval after that one with flying colours. Even the psychologist had been a little suspicious—impressed, but suspicious. Turned out all he’d done was squash it all so far down that it was invisible to a prying eye, and then managed to trick himself that he was just made of stronger stuff than average.

He was good at that though: keeping secrets. Pretending, manipulation, getting what he wanted out of people. Out of himself. It was no surprise that he’d got so good at it over the years that he had managed to dupe even himself into believing what he needed to get the job done. Stupid wanker.

Price scowled as he rolled to his feet, wobbling unsteadily at first as he regained his balance, before limping into his bedroom. He had a quick shower to wash the sweat off and threw on his gym kit. Just because his lower half was useless, that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep the rest of him in shape. The physio had told him to keep it light, that everything in his body was connected and his nervous system needed time to adjust, and he had nodded along.

Truth was, he liked the burn of it. It felt like punishment. A punishment that he could control. It was both proof that he was still, physically, worth something and a way to chastise the parts of himself that weren’t as strong as they used to be. John left the house just as his morning alarm went off.

He ignored the sideways glances from the reception staff as he limped through the automatic barriers, his car parked in the second row back because he couldn’t quite bring himself to use the damn blue badge the council had given him when Carol had completed the forms on his behalf.

This early in the morning, the gym was more or less empty. There were a few night shifters getting their end of day workout in at the squat racks, so Price dumped his gym bag by a bench in front of the dumbbells. The powerlifter to the right glanced at him as he grabbed 26kg for a warm up set, and from that point on he let his mind go blank. All that existed as he worked his way through his ‘push day’ was the burn in his shoulders, his chest, down his spine. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was in the gym in Credenhill, with Ghost grunting on his right and Soap pausing to take yet another selfie on his left…

His phone trilled.

He dropped the dumbbells to the floor at his feet and snatched it from his bag. He hated himself for feeling disappointment when he saw his sister’s name.

“Wotcha, love, everyfin’ ok?” He slumped back on the bench, spare arm dangling between his legs as the burn of the lift faded.

I know it’s ya day off, but I need a favour…

”Right…”

We’ve got a regular in Chester who needs a home visit.

”Oh yeah, cheshire set, is he?”

Nah, he’s… a foreign national. Scary bloke, actually. And that’s the problem, all the girls are refusin’ t’ go.

”Did he touch one’uv‘em?”

No, no. Nothin’ like that. He’s just… scary. Lives in one of those big detached houses, and he has loads of… well, they called ‘em henchmen. Said it’s like walkin’ int’ mafia film, John.

”If he’s so bloody terrifyin’, why not jog ‘im on?”

It’s… not tha’ simple, la.

Price’s hackles went up instantly. Not that simple could mean a hundred different things, but all the dots were joining up in a way that made Price want to load his M1911 before he drove over. “Why?”

Look, I… if ya can’t do, ‘ll go meself, but…

”Don’t you bloody dare,” Price growled. “I’ll go. Send me the time, the address, what his usual is.”

He heard her breathe a sigh of relief down the phone.

Cheers, John. I… I owe y’bevvy, yeah?

“Stop tryin’ to set me up with Gary, and we’ll call it even.”

Oi, I was jus’—okay, fine. Gary is off the Price menu.

”Carol, I swear t’…” He glanced over his shoulder as the grunting behind him had gone conspicuously silent and the brief moment of eye contact was enough to make him drop his voice. “Right. Forward me the intel, and—“

She chuckled.

”Wot?”

I will forward ya the intel, big brother. Love ya, see ya later.

Price stared at the phone in his hand long after it had gone black. The heat under his skin was adrenalin. He’d recognise the bubbling rush of it anywhere; the heavy drum of his heart, the tightness in his chest. Excitement.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, get a grip,” Price mumbled as he chucked his phone into his bag and returned the weights. It was probably some sweaty billionaire who fancied himself the bloody Godfather. Normal people—people who hadn’t spent their entire adult lives fighting real mobsters, crooks and war criminals—saw a grim face and a sharp suit and were easily intimidated. Price would scope the place out and gather some more information on whatever the fuck this arsehole had on Carol, and then he would fix the problem. He was good at that. Fixing other people’s problems. It let him ignore his own for a bit longer.

[heartkaji]

lose it !

(n) — suo hayato only eats numbers

tw: ed ! please read comments !

you unlock suo hayato’s phone in aim of finding messages from other women; pictures from other girls or maybe even men.

instead you find a calorie app & the notes of a dead man walking.

suo hayato eats eight hundred calories a day.

for breakfast he logs coffee, black. no sugar or milk or anything because what is he, an animal ? lunch is rice cakes & hot sauce & cucumber as a snack but dinner is empty because it’s already 7pm & only fatties eat beyond seven so suo must wait till 12pm tomorrow before food can find his throat again.

suo hayato only eats numbers.

your heart breaks a little more as your fingers scroll further through his notes & logged meals. tuesday reads ‘no lunch, make up for extra cals from donuts with sakura’ & wednesday is empty because ‘water fast’. suo hayato is a disciplined boy but every log ends with ‘resist or regret’ but fuck this is unhealthy & why does suo resist himself an essence to live ?

“love, have you seen my phone ?”

you don’t realize your eyes are hot with tears until suo cups your cheeks in cold palms, eyes almond & scanning your own as if they’ve just seen a ghost. you press your body against his own & god he is so frail, you have never realized it before but now it’s so apparent & fuck if you let your mind wander any further you might become a woman half dead too.

“suo, i don’t want you to die,”

& suo hayato only sighs, because if only you knew he’d died a long time ago.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, edit, translate or reupload

a/n : this is a serious topic, so please forgive me for this serious message.

my heart goes out to all the wintergirls & boys out there. the ones who go to bed fantasizing about what they’ll eat tomorrow & get moody when their one meal a day doesn’t hit the way it’s meant to. my heart goes out to all the girls & boys who watch mukbangs & cooking shows in order to drown out the growling in their stomach. the ones who flip their chip bags to the back on instinct & would rather die than eat a plate of waffles & syrup. my heart goes out to everyone who exercises all they eat, who sleeps & drinks away their hunger & ties their hair & clenches their throat every time they step in the bathroom after a meal. recovery is a bitter pill but you can only heal when all the pills have been swallowed. it is worth it. eating disorders kill & no you don’t have to be underweight or anorexic or ‘atypical’ anything because just a few months of calorie counting kills your mind & after long enough it will kill you too.

your body is worth so much more than coke zero & greek yoghurt & sugar free jello. recovery is real & it may take years before you are full of it, but everyday gets at least a little better when you are not eating yourself to the brink of death.

i am not the best at these kinds of messages, but i hope some winter girl or boy reads this message & thinks to themself, i am enough, not because you are under 110 pounds but simply because you are. your body is so much more than stretch marks & loose skin or arm fat & the likes. your body is yours & you are enough.

my heart beats for all of you because if you are not careful, it will not be able to beat for itself. i beg of you, choose to recover & please choose it today. why follow wonyoung & monster high diets when you are already so heart-achingly beautiful ? recovery is never easy, but it is worth it & so are you.

ps: so sorry for writing such a serious topic for such an unserious anime, but someone might need to hear this & that someone might be you. yes yes im aware suo is only on a diet because he’s a monk or something, but i know his little eating habits can be so triggering to watch to some & i just wanted to let you all know that it will be okay.

gosh why do i feel like such a monster for writing this

[luvanamia]

are there any pro-ana sites you reccomend?

Losertown.org is literally the best to calculate how much weight are you planning to loose, it’s just soo effective. Then to count calories I use Fat secret (it’s an app) it just lets you to lower your daily calories as much as you want without it telling you that it is unhealthy wich is great. And lastly to count how many calories I burn every day I use de IPhone fitness app and the Running with Adidas app.

Xoxo

[castrian-amore]

Just want you to feel something

Ch 2/? | Word Count: 5125

Trigger Warnings Implied trauma, implied depersonalization

Chapter 2: Savor every moment, even hungover

The phone was ringing and his head was pounding and he felt like at any moment in time his head could just split open. He groaned, reaching to answer his phone. He had already notified the office he wouldn’t be in today. He was the one in charge and never took off days normally anyways, he deserved this. A drunken haze last night and barely any memory of what had transpired filling his brain. Nope. Nothing. 

He puts the phone to his ear after he swipes. 

“Tim Drake speaking,”he answers flawlessly. 

“Oh my god you’re so fucked!”Stephanie’s voice rang over the phone. 

“What are you talking about Steph, and speak quieter please,”He covers his eyes as he turns down the volume on his phone. 

“Ohhohoho you were shitfaced last night weren’t you?” She was giddy. Tim didn’t know what for. 

“Maybe…” 

“Be over in 15 minutes, do not leave your apartment bitch boy,”She threatens cackling on the other end of the phone. 

“Okay sure. Don’t care. Bring me coffee and we’ll call it even.” 

“You paying?”She mused. 

“Yeah sure, I don’t care.” He groans. “Just come in. I do not want to fuck with the doormen right now.” 

“Ha! Yeah, I sure can guess you don’t you Hungover baby.” She is laughing before hanging up the phone. Tim Drake had a lot on his shoulders so what if he got drunk one night? Stephanie was a good friend. Her father wasn’t the best to her and during his younger days of sneaking out to take photos around Gotham they’d become really good friends, even dating for a little while. The dating was a short lived thing realizing that while they both found they were bisexual… they also both had a tendency to leave towards their own genders. It was a fun experience and he was very glad they could remain extremely good friends after it. He still loved her just in a very platonic sense, but even with the mutual past breakup it didn’t stop the occasional tabloid trying to talk up some stupid story about their relationship. 

Especially when Steph joined a dance team and they got really good. Booking gigs with famous artists and producing their own shows and things. Tim was glad she was getting the recognition for her work but it was still concerning nonetheless. Mostly in how the media saw them. The media weren’t exactly the most kind people especially to those in the limelight. Unfortunately for him because he was CEO and a nepo baby of a company most people assumed he was a pompous asshole. He was an asshole but a pompous one? He only was like that to blend into the crowds at the fancy stupid galas and things.

He peeled himself out of bed feeling the upright motions destroy his stomach as he bolts to the bathroom retching over the toilet with a groan. Fuck the cold felt so good. Maybe he had been a little more fucked up than he thought last night. He laid there on the floor for a little bit. Oh there was still definitely alcohol in his system, oh yeah this was gonna suck. He doesn’t know how long he lays there in his boxers on the bathroom floor. He does remember Stephanie is coming over and gets himself off the floor slowly to get himself at least semi-dressed. Wearing a long sleeve cozy sweater with pajama pants and some slippers in the shapes of ducks. He forces himself to take some ibuprofen and tylenol for his killer headache debating on something stronger. He takes his usual medicine he needs for the day and grabs some water figuring he wasn’t that stupid. 

He knew he needed to get something to eat too. He was already opening the app for doordash and figuring he could order steph and him some greasy ass food. She needed the calories for dancing, that was how that worked right? He ordered the food and took a few steps before his body revolted against him and he bolted towards the bathroom retching up again. Fuck man. He sat there for another moment closing the lid as he lay his head on it. He hears the front door open and he really can’t bother himself to get up. 

“Timbers!”Steph’s voice calls out as the smell of coffee drifts from the living room. 

“In here.”He calls out trying to pick himself off the floor, nope, a bad idea. When he finishes emptying the contents of his stomach a third time he gets up giving a small wave to her laughing in the doorway. 

“What the fuck Tim, if you’re gunna go drinking like that, bring someone with you!” She laughs but there was the undertones of her being more serious about what she’s talking about. Tim ignores them. Her hands are empty which means she probably just ditched the coffee in the room over. 

“I’m fine,"he mumbles, going to rinse his mouth out and brush his teeth. 

“Yeah sure you are,”she laughs and pulls out her phone. “Have you been on your phone yet?” 

“Huh? No, why?” She hands over her own phone and Tim takes it. He pauses. Feeling his face pale. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Plastered on the page was a photo of a very heated kiss between him and another man. That in of itself isn’t the concerning part. Right? Maybe scandalous he was seen with a man but the title? 

“CEO of Drake Enterprises Timothy Drake dating lead singer of YJ?!?” 

Tim wants to cry reading it. The leader of YJ, Young Justice? THE Young Justice. Number one band in the charts for 5 weeks straight for their hit single “You Were a dream?”. Tim admittedly did not recognize the man from the photo but maybe it was the angle or the fact they were both so intimately kissing. Tim had a grip on his shirt and the others hands were resting around his waist pulling them way too close together. 

“This is wrong. They can’t--” 

“They did,”Steph confirms.

“Fuck me,”Tim groans. Well that sobered him up quick as he sat on the toilet seat. Steph rubbing his back a little bit. 

“I know this is awful but also… this is so fucking funny,”Steph can’t help but laugh. “Tim Drake dating a rockstar?!? Gasp! What a crime!” He laughs after her. It was a little funny. 

“Steph, this is serious.”He tries to gain his composure. 

“What did he even do to seduce you like that? You were so obviously shit faced,”she’s laughing again. “Did he-- did he do the whole..” She pauses to dramatically and sensually run a hand through her long blonde hair and bite her lip ‘seductively’. “Did he do that?” She grins.

“Fuck I don’t know Steph. I don’t even remember this happening!”Tim’s face in his hands holding back laughter. 

“Oh so then all he had to do was the whole,”She leans against the wall and she does the douche-iest pose. One hand on the wall the other on her hip. “Sup baby?’ Tim laughs again. 

“Steph, this is serious!”He tries again. 

“And it happened!”She retaliates. “You were drunk! Drunk people do stupid shit all the time!” 

“Drunk people who are not in charge of whole corporations whose sales could collapse under the weight of a bad reputation!” He counters. She kneels in front of him, peeling his hands from his face. 

“Come on. We’re grabbing the coffee and water and getting blankets.We’re gonna have a movie day,”She smirks.”And talk about the problem but like movie day first and foremost.” 

“You wanna mooch off my fancy popcorn,”he retaliates. She mimics a gasp. 

“What? Moi? Never!” She dramatically flips her hair and stalks out the room dragging Tim with her. Tim’s mind is already reeling about what to do. There were so many options. Too many options, none of them good.

“I already ordered us doordash.”He admits as they sit down and Steph moves to drape a blanket sitting on the couch over him grabbing him a glass of water and the coffee. 

“Oh how I wish I could marry you for your money,”She sighs wistfully and Tim snorts. 

“If only. You act like you’re not a famous dancer?” She does a fake gasp. 

“Are you saying I’m rich Mr. Drake?” 

“I’m saying you’re pretty well off as far as careers go.”Tim replies never have been happier to have sipped his coffee borderline moaning at the taste. 

“Yeah well at least I spent my money on fun stuff. You don’t! Your apartment barely looks lived in Tim. It’s white and grey and so fucking boring,”she dramatically drapes herself over him. He barely had time to move his coffee so she didn’t knock it out of his hand. 

Tim wished he could say his place was incredibly personalized but the fact of the matter was that Steph complained about how impersonal it was constantly. She wasn’t wrong? He had some photos of when he was younger blown up and put in frames on the walls but in terms of personality of the house most of it was a sleek modern look with minimal decorations. He did have some color. His bed sheets and accent pieces were a beautiful crimson red and sometimes golden designed pieces. 

“Send me that article,”Tim says, changing the pace again. 

“It’s some desperate new years bullshit Tim, you know that!” 

“But the people don’t Steph! I need to do damage control before—“he cuts himself off panic already threatening at the edge of his voice and she goes quiet. Lips pursed quietly. 

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” She crosses her arms almost pouting. Not exactly pouting. Tim knew that look. He knew she was hiding a simmering anger underneath her cross expression. If it wasn’t her mutual respect for Tim then she would have long ago betrayed his trust and done something about it. They were two peas in a pod. Tim had to make his parents proud after all and a scandal would do him no good when his parents returned for a late holiday with him at their manor. He went out of the city quite frequently to see them. Tim lived in New York and they lived in Gotham. It wasn’t a great drive but since he didn’t have to make the drive himself it made things a little easier. 

“CEO of Drake Enterprises Timothy Drake dating lead singer of YJ?!?”  By Vicki Vale “Last night as the New Year’s parties raged it seems other things were happening as well. The current co-head of Drake Enterprises was seen in his current resident city of New York attending a party hosted by the infamous Lex Luthor. Our own Gotham born Timothy Jackson Drake has been the most eligible bachelor for quite some time now only rivaled by Bruce Wayne’s son Richard Greyson, and Bruce himself,  is it time for Timothy to finally be entering the dating pool yet again?  The photo shows Kon, head of the band Young Justice(also known more commonly as YJ), engaging Tim in a fiery kiss on the balcony of the establishment just as the ball dropped. So are the two of them in an established relationship? Or are the two simply reaching for the nearest scandal to push their mutual careers into further spotlight?  Neither have come out with a comment yet, but we expect a statement soon. So how do you feel Gothamites? Are you here for Tim getting into a relationship with the lead singer of a rock band? Or do you think this is a scandal waiting to happen?”

The photo is painfully good quality. He hates it. They look good, but he hates it. He also knows it’s likely not the only one. The only reason he was at that party was because of Lex Luthor and his stupid insistence on getting Tim to work for him. Hence the invitation to one of the most exclusive high society events. An event filled with too many drugs, too much alcohol and lots of sex and rock n roll. There were other bands there too, Tim was just one to prefer rock over any other genre of music. He occasionally went to shows but mostly not. Too many chances for things to go awry. Tim admittedly did not like to get drunk that often, mostly because he refuses to become as bad as his father. Not to say his family was bad at all but their relationship was a rather formal one. He didn’t mind that much, rather focusing on work anyways. They always were understanding of his love of his work. 

Either way, he needed to get a hold of this scandal before things got too out of hand. He looks at his phone seeing a text from the head of his PR team. Normally Tim did all his PR but he did pay one of the girls in HR who also had a degree in it to double check his methods and help make sure he was on top of staying relevant for the company, magazines, interviews, etc. Madi was a sweet girl and he was glad he could give her extra cash for it. It was an official part of her duties. She was considered part time HR and part time PR. His parents paid for a whole PR team for the company as a whole but as he was the head and wanted their influence on his image to be a bit more limited he paid her out of his own pocket rather than the companies. He felt bad trying to use money that could be given back to the employees just to make himself look good. 

Madi 

You realize how bad this is going to look right?

Tim

I know please do not remind me. I’ve seen it. 

… 

Any ideas?

Madi

Damage control and reaching out to his PR person. See if they’ve reached out to you, but I’ll do the same on my end. We gotta get a wrap on this quick Mr. Drake.

Tim

For the millionth time please call me Tim, I swear Madi. 

Madi

You still hungover?

Tim

The news helped sober me up but Stephanie is over here helping me out

Madi

Good, don’t go outside. Most of the paparazzi are pricks and while they might not have a true interest in you as a CEO they do have an interest in you giving them a story on you and Kon.

Tim

Yeah Steph mentioned me staying inside. I ordered doordash so neither of us have to go out. Maybe I should just go and work from home for a few days.

Madi

Not a bad idea. I would stay relatively close though, Kon likely will be in town for a bit longer especially if he’s also interested in fixing this PR disaster.

Tim

I was about to say it’s not that bad… but yes it is

Madi

Honestly, it’s less bad for him than it is for you. You’re young but you’re highly respected. I don’t want you losing the bare respect you forced out the other higher ups. Just because the younger ones like you, we both know those board members are vying to get you out and get you father back.

Tim

Tell me about it. The shit I get from the board and the shareholders is insane. 

Madi

Anyways, keep an eye on your email. I’ll get a plan together and send it to you

Tim

You’re the best Mads

Madi

I know

“Madi have any idea yet?”Steph is peaking over his shoulder. 

“She just says to keep an eye on my email because since she’s not incredibly publicly my PR person they’re more likely to reach out to me directly,”He groans as he turns and flops his head on her lap. 

“Steph I have never been more thankful to have planned to be at that Pride event a while ago,”He mumbles. “Or else this would be so much worse.” She snorts, running her hands through his hair. 

“Oh yeah it would be so so much worse if you weren’t already toeing that fine line of being gay but also not!” She teased with a little malice in her voice, but the malice was obviously not directed at him. More than likely aimed at the other board members who would not-so-discreetly sling slurs and other words in his direction under their breath. Tim was smart though, he liked to think at the very least he was. He tried his best to make everyone happy and the board members could hardly be upset with him over the last few years TIm had been in charge. He was sure they were upset because of how young Tim was and he knew that. They had spent their whole lives getting to this point and Tim had finished his college degree by the time he was out of high school and got put into the position after he outsmarted some people and manipulated his way to the top. Tim was aware though, for a nepo baby. 

As someone born and raised in Gotham and all too painfully aware of the messed up systems of that place he was aware of how broken the world was. He knew about the rampant police corruption and the concerns over the safety and wellbeing of the city with one of the highest crime rates in the United States. He had seen what had happened to those in the system and went out of his way to help and volunteer. His parents praised him for the good PR he was giving them but all he could think about was that he could do something to help people with the money he was given. 

His parents weren’t exactly around enough to enforce what he did with his own money. He teamed up with the Wayne foundation to host charity events, fundraisers, galas, etc to give back to the community. 

Reminded him of his connections. Maybe he should meet with Bruce for lunch or his next free day… see just how the other could help him. Bruce had immense experience with bad press. He was notoriously good at splitting the story and diffusing the situations. He closed his eyes so thankful he had Steph with him right now. 

“Thanks Steph.”He said a bit more genuinely. 

“Don’t thank me yet hoe,”she retaliated. 

“You literally came over to check on me,”He retaliated, opening his eyes to look up at her. 

“Me? Never. How could I not save your bitch ass,”She had a grin across her face. “Plus you always buy me food, it's a win-win situation.”

“Aww Steph you care that much about me,”He began to tease.

“You are in a  perfect smothering position--”

“Are you going to admit that you love me next?”He continued. “Because I love you too and--” She jokingly shoved a pillow over his face and the two began to get into a fight as he rolled off her lap and she practically pounced on top of him hitting him with the pillow. 

“Stop being cheesy!”She yelled as he was laughing incredibly hard. 

“But you wove me! And Care about me! And you’re my best fwiend!” He has his arms up trying to stop her from hitting him. She is snickering and grabs his arm moving to pin it behind his back. 

“Ah fuck--”he hisses out as she smirks. 

“Say uncle and I’ll let go!”She exclaims wearing a shit eating grin. 

“Gah!- Fucking hell Steph.” She pulls back on his arm, applying more force. “Shit-uncle!” She lays down next to him on the floor as he rolls onto his back. The two of them were breathing heavily for a moment before looking at each other and laughing brightly. They stay like that for a moment after Stephanie's hand finds his. She was the shit head type, not one for sentimentality which is part of why Tim enjoys her company so much.  She can make light of any situation and can and will call him out on his bullshit as long as she is under the impression she’ll do the same for her. 

“You should come with me to rehearsal one day. Or like just to the studio. Get you back to working out more.”She comments. 

‘I work out just fine!” 

“Yeah but what about your dreams? You can take some pictures of me and then join me for a little bit!”She beams, sitting up a little bit to look down at him. “We both know you have a killer camera and some wild skills. Use them. You always talk about wanting more photos of me dancing.” 

“Yeah but--” 

“Nah nope you don’t get to give some sort of bullshit excuse,”she shakes her head. 

“Steph, I haven't stepped foot in a dance studio since I was 16, and that was just a way for me to get exercise. My parents thought they were formal ballroom classes.” He comments. Tim only ever danced casually. Even then he had never been as good as Steph but there was a freeingness to it. It was fun! He could never do it publicly. The corporate scene would absolutely obliterate him if they ever found out he used to dance hop hop. Formal ballroom dancing was something he also had training in and also was looked highly upon. 

“If you pick up dancing it will help you get back on a board~”She teased. 

“How!”

“Hand and Eye coordination,”she teased, standing up and offering him her hand. He took it standing up. It was still almost too much and he holds out his hand thinking he’s gonna throw up. He stops and waves that he’s good. 

“You just want to watch me fail horribly,”He rolls his eyes. 

“Just dress cool, wear a hat and mask and you’re good no one will know!”Steph insists. “Like what you do when you go skateboarding.” 

“I don’t skateboard anymore Steph.” 

“Just like you don’t dance anymore!!! Look you--”she stops as there was a knock at his door and grumbles something under her breath before going to answer. She comes back in with the food as Tim joins her at the breakfast bar and sits down next to her as they pull out the food separating it between them. She’s already shoving her face as she continues. 

“As I was saying--”She begins shoving lo mein into her mouth. He nods, raising an eyebrow as she speaks with her mouth full.” You don’t do anything you like anymore. It’s just all work!” 

“Because work is important!”

“You’re twenty-fucking-two Tim! Live a little for the love of god! You’re young and yet you so rarely go to parties! You can do both. You don’t even have the problems most corporate people have. Most of them have drug or alcohol addictions or go skiing and have lavish vacations. YOU DON’T DO THAT TIM!”She exclaims the second her mouth is no longer full. He groans. 

“I just think you need some dick honestly,”he almost chokes on his food as she says that. 

“What????”He looks at her wide eyed. She smirks looking at him leaning in real close. 

“I said I think you need some dick. Timothy, you’re still a fucking virgin aren’t you?” 

“I-I no what- why would you think that?!”His face is a bright red immediately showing more interest in his food than her. 

“HAH I WAS RIGHT!” 

“Can you please not yell,”he begs. 

“Sorry,”She still is wearing that familiar grin. 

“So what if you’re right! I can’t just go out and like, sleep with people and shit! Yeah brb let me go and print out an NDA for you to sign so we can sleep together real quick,”he rolls his eyes looking at her. “Besides… I want it to be something special. Love? I don’t know. I just--” 

“Okay I’ve made a decision. You’re not getting a choice now. We’re finding you a hobby. An actual hobby. You’re coming to the studio with me and I’ll reteach you some stuff. See how much you remember. Get you out of this stuffy apartment and your stuffy office.” 

“I’m really good at Golf?”he offers. 

“No, you just pretend like you are so you can go golfing with your coworkers. We both know you hate that sport…” 

“It’s so boring steph,”he finally caves. “I don’t even think I have any dance clothes anymore Steph!” 

“I’ll lend you some of mine. You never did grow,”she smirks. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,”he groans going for his phone and opening it up absentmindedly going to sort his emails.  He swipes to delete a bunch going in and flagging the ones related to work things so he could go back in and check them. 

He pauses. 

“Oh fuck--” 

“What?” Steph leans over on her stool before laughing. “Well that was fast.” 

“Such is the problem of social media,”he groans out opening the email as he shoves more of his own lo mein into his mouth. He quiets as he reads through it. 

“Dear Mr. Timothy Drake, 

My name is Cissie King-Jones, I am the head of PR for the band YJ(Young Justice), and as I am sure you are aware, you and my client, Kon, shared a kiss on New Years Eve last night. We could not locate a particular PR team to reach out to, to discuss his issue. We will be in town for another two weeks due to Kon visiting his father and the rest of the band wishing for a small break. Is there a potential time outside of your work hours that we could meet to discuss the events of the past and how to potentially move forwards without damaging either of your careers? Looking forward to a response.  

Best Regards, 

Cissie King-Jones

Head of PR”

He groans and Steph is laughing so hard and Tim, without looking, pushes her off the stool. She yelps but continues to laugh long after she’s fallen off the stool. 

“Are you enjoying my misery?” 

“Yes,”she gasps out. He flips her off. 

“Fuck I should respond to this.” 

“Yeah you should,”she wiggles her eyebrows, finally getting up from the floor and dusting herself off. 

Tim

Got the email, are you free tomorrow for an extended lunch?

Madi

Well technically I’m busy but if you CEO requests my presence then no one can say anything

Tim

Emailing your supervisor right now, we’re going to go to have a meeting with Kon and their PR head Cissie King.

Madi

Where are we going to have it? Your work seems too blatant. 

Tim

I don’t know yet but how about I forward you her email so you can reach out. I have a few ideas myself but I hate the ideas….

Madi

Well spill then

“Yeah spill Tim..”Steph smirks, reading over his shoulder, again. He pushes her away playfully. 

Tim

No thanks, I’m sure you’ve already thought of it anyways and I’d really rather keep it as a last resort.

Madi

Send me that email Tim ;P

Tim

On it

Tim did as he was told as he forwards her the email. 

“Where do u want to meet?”Steph instead asks. “It needs to be a neutral location somewhere the paparazzi won’t freak out about you going.”  He groans thinking. 

“I have a few ideas,”he admits. 

“Oh?”She leans her arm on the other’s shoulder. “Do tell.” 

“Lex is Kon’s biological dad…” 

“Oh dammit,”She groans. “But he’s so unsettling.” 

“You’re not even going to be there!” Tim exclaims. 

“Yeah but I am going to be there in spirit once you meet me at the studio after the meeting,”She flicks his cheeks and he gives an exasperated sigh. 

“Look, it won’t look weird for me to go there and it’s Kon’s dad's work so like it won’t be awful. I’m there for a meeting, nothing else! Plus Luthor values his security of his building over anything else. He would riot if someone else could get into his systems.” 

“Someone else?”Steph raises her eyebrow at him. 

“He said something stupid…”Tim begins.

“DID YOU--”She remembered his headache. “Did you hack Lex corp?!?!?!”

“When I was 18 yeah, why do you think he’s been trying to get me to ditch my parents,”he snorts. “Him and the Al Ghul's.” 

“And the Waynes,”Steph reminds but Tim could only roll his eyes at that one. 

“Yeah, as if. Bruce sees me as a friend. He’s my mentor, nothing else.” 

“Just saying… if the Drake’s need to go there are several companies you can sell it off too.” 

“Yeah let me just sell the Drake family name underneath my parents name,”sarcasm is dripping from his voice as he finishes his food. He texts Madi the idea and she agrees it’s probably for the best. 

“You could,”Steph reminds.

“But I won’t~”He purrs out. “If I agree to go to the studio with you after will you leave me alone about it?” 

“Yes!” 

“Then fine just bring some clothes by the office and I’ll change before we leave.”he nods. 

“Fuck yeah!”She exclaims. “None of the windows lead to the street level too!”

“Wonderful.” 

“So when will the meeting be? I need to text to see when the next free space is?” Tim shrugs. 

“I left it up to Madi.” 

“You giving that girl so much of your public image power is terrifying for a control freak like you,”She scoffs, going to toss her trash and fishing a soda from his fridge. The particular kind only being in there because of her penchant to just stop by when he’s out of town and what not.  

“Let’s just put on a movie please,”Tim begs quietly and she leaves him alone for a little while as they crowd on the couch cuddled close to each other. “I’m grateful you’re my friend steph.” 

His head is on her shoulder tucked under the covers and she playfully lays her head on his a little aggressively. 

“Right back at you Timbo,’she smiles. It’s as they get halfway into the second movie when he gets a text from Madi. 

Madi

Tomorrow at 1pm Lex Corp headquarters

Tim

Gotcha

He shows Steph the phone and she nods. 

God he can’t wait to have this meeting and let the scandal be over with. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[thatadhdfeel]

hi, i'm sorry to bother, specially because this is a heavy subject and i understand if you don't feel comfortable talking about it, so please feel free to ignore this ask.

recently, i've realized that i might be at risk of developing or have already developed and eating disorder, and i've seen that this is common for people with adhd, both because we can often forget to eat or rely on food for comfort and dopamine (i think), both things i do sometimes and feel extremely guilty afterwards. i'm already talking about this to my therapist, but i also wanted to know if you have some advice or something about this subject.

thank you for reading this, and sorry for coming to you with such a complicated and heavy subject. i really hope i don't cause any triggers or anything, and i'm really sorry if i did. thank you again, i hope you have a nice day!

hey, no worries about this being too heavy. i struggled with anorexia as a teenager and somewhat into college.

honestly the best advice i can give is harm reduction. we can’t always help ourselves so i think it’s much better to start with smaller steps to recovery rather than jump right into it (unless one feels ready for that!)

for if you undereat —

safe foods — not in the way pro-ed communities define them, but as in; foods that don’t make you feel as bad for eating, that you enjoy. doesn’t matter if they’re “healthy” or “unhealthy”, it’s more important to get some substance in you.

DELETE THE CALORIE COUNTING APPS if you’re using them. ik a lot of us do/did. same w journals etc. try to avoid counting in your head if you can.

stay away from pro-ed spaces. even if you’re just curious. seriously stay tf away that shit is SO dangerous.

remember that you deserve food no matter what.

for if you overeat —

often causes nausea, so some ginger tea on hand is good. but drink slowly!

“safe foods” also work here

if you can predict/feel you are going to overeat, eating more fiber may help fill you up faster and help with that. but talk to your doctor about this first.

look into some new hobbies! it’ll help fill the burning need for dopamine we have lol

and again … you deserve food no matter what. whether you’re binging or restricting.

and most importantly — try to forgive yourself. it’s okay to struggle. it’s okay to have worse days. there is ALWAYS tomorrow. i believe in you and hope this helps a bit❤️

[neathdarkwcters]

academic weapon 🗡 day 0

holding myself accountable for sawc by using this day to list some of my tools & planned routines & establishing my emoji code so posts can be quick & easy!

sleep💤

i'll be using my wyze watch to track my sleep as closely as possible and recording it in the app how we feel. i expect to be awake about 6am every morning, so i'd like to be in bed by 9pm.

routine⏰

☀️ wake up by 6am -> make my bed -> have a breakfast (doesn't matter what) ☁️ make sure i have a lunch -> an hour of fitness 🌙 academic reading -> dinner -> fun reading / video game / documentary hour -> tea time at 8 -> pack for the next day -> skincare -> bed by 9 i'm using finch to track some of these habits, namely tea time and fitness. homework can be done at any time between afternoon and evening, especially with my really boring office job. weekends are my cleaning days so as long as homework and chores are done that's a win on routine for me.

deep focus🍅

in addition to an hour of focus deep study, i'm going to also be aiming for is a half hour of mindfulness. sometimes in yoga - sometimes not. i'm going to allow myself body doubling for the study focus as well with my best friend.. samsung modes & routines yet again helping with this one, i'm on do not disturb in class and social apps are blocked if i'm at work. i'm going to make a study mode as well where i can only get emergency messages. i'll also be making note of what study methods i'm using - whether note rewriting or active revision. i have to learn what works best because i've kinddddd of only ever done note rewriting!

body⚙️

daily fitness is already a thing for me but i'm also going to be making sure i'm hitting my calorie goals as i'm a chronic "forgot to eat" person 🥲 i'm using myfitnesspal to track this. also going to be making sure i go to doctor's appointments! using my default calendar and notion reminders. i'm also going to make a point of wearing makeup as much as possible because i have SO MUCH and i want it GONE but not thrown out, you know? having some fun with colours and looking at my face for a couple minutes every morning might do me some good, anyways. also taking my vitamins <3

reading📚

fanfiction doesn't count for this, though i do want to read all the stuff in my ao3 saves, haha. aiming for at least an hour of fun reading or two of fun listening for audio books. tracking this on finch & using libby/hoopla to find my audio books. tracking my reads & how much i like them on notion.

reflection📝

reflections are going to be in my personal journal, and of course i'll be using the challenge template for a quick daily post.

[recoverywithgh0ul]

-home for lost thoughts-

Things that helped my recovery, and things that definitely didn’t. Obviously recovery is a very personal experience, and things that work for others, may not work for you, and vice versa. I’m just sharing what works for me, so maybe people can either see a different perspective, relate, or find inspiration. General TW for this whole post it will touch on uncensored topics such as calorie counting apps, weight checking, and fear foods. If that’s a lot for you, I’d suggest you skip this post, but i wish you well in your recovery <3

I’m going to start off with the things that absolutely did not help, and if anything, sent me into a complete spiral. Why? Gotta start somewhere, and it’s best always to end on a good note~

———————————————————-

Weight checks- I feel like this is probably a no brainer, but these are probably the worst for me. Even if it was good news it was the eventual “when will i ruin it?” Thought, which would giving up, and lead to a binge, and the whole cycle. Looking back, to avoid this, just shifting my perspective to not going to the all or nothing place honestly would’ve helped a lot. Which is what I’m working on now thankfully :>

Free eating- as I’ve mentioned a lot, i don’t understand what a healthy portion looks like, i was never taught. So going into adulthood like that, really negatively impacted me because when i wanted to get healthy even when i tried i still had no idea what i was doing. Something has countered this, but it’ll be in the next section.

Calorie counter apps- never helped me, they’ve always encouraged obsessive behavior, and also caused shame, especially if i had gone over a few calories. I can see the appeal, but for me- they’ve always done more harm than good.

Feeling like i can’t have certain foods because I’ll lose control- this in the long run as never helped, because then these foods feel forbidden, and when i finally allow myself them- I’ll eat them until I’m sick, but if I incorporate them into a healthy diet, I’ve noticed i actually crave them less. So I’m slowly regaining back my control. And so can you~

Those are the main ones for me. Let’s end this on a good note, and move onto the positive :>

—————————————————————-

Portion plates- it might sound silly or restrictive, but the really do help me, especially if I’m feeling a craving to clean my plate, there’s only so much metaphorical ‘damage’ i can do. For me it works, for everyone, it definitely will not. You should always do what works for you and your body~

Adding in foods I’m craving in moderation, or making healthier dupes- so, just like it says, craving chips? Have a bit, just add something to it. Like some cucumber and hummus, or carrots and cottage cheese. Want cookies? Eat it with some Greek yogurt and fruit. (All suggestions not medical advice) you can have what you’re craving just add something with some bulk so it fills you up~ so you’re satisfying a craving, but also feeling satiated.

Combating limiting beliefs with positive self talk- instead of punishing myself for having a bad thought, or getting mad I’m not ‘fully healed’ trying to practice patience, and self positivity and give myself that mental comfort to heal myself like i know I’m worthy of. Seeking outside validation can only help to a point, because if even you don’t believe it, it’s not going to benefit you. Recovery is a journey healing not only your relationship with food, but your relationship with yourself. And you deserve to finally be healed~

Therapy or coaching sessions- again self explanatory, but super beneficial, especially when you feel hopeless and can’t do it alone. Sometimes even finding resources online, like quick videos on YouTube just to understand things more, or to gain insight or advice. For me personally, the more i understand something, the easier it is for me to tackle it. There are so many great food therapists on instagram especially that share such great advice, that i urge you just to watch a few reels. Help is attainable, i promise it’s not impossible.

That’s all i can really think of for this post, as always, good luck on your journey! Remember you are worth it <3 until next time~

[toobigforeverything]

I have begun to count cals, WTF a "normal" breakfast has 1000 calories, what the fuck have I eaten my whole life. I thought healthy foods were that, but ohh nooooooo, but alone a portion of scrambled eggs has 400 kcal.

How the fuck have I thought eggs just have like 20 or 30.

I will start to document everything now. My mind is just so confused...

Now I need help. What are the best apps to count kcal, give them to me pls I need them.

[ultimate-fck-up]

GETTING BACK ON TRACK 🦇

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Starting this diet today to get back on track after winter break + doing my workout routine which I'll detail below. Fml, I can't believe I lost control like that and for so so long. I'm back at college now and am basically able to do whatever I want, thank god. I'm going to do this diet and then switch to another one, after that I should be back on track enough to not need one. ALSO ALSO ASLO I want to make a calorie-tracking calender for January just for added accountability (gotta start the new year consistently.) My weight goal is 120 for 2025… but lower is better obvi. I'm so tired of being a fat ass.

Things I miss/ motivation to 🌟ve

Not being afraid to look in mirrors.

Not having a gut to suck in.

Being able to throw anything ANYTHING in my closet on and it looking good because being thin is the best accessory.

The rythmatic beating of my heart in my lower stomach.

Not feeling like a failure when I open this app.

Fitting my boyfriends clothes.

Not being anxious and feeling gross about myself during intimacy.

Going to bed feeling so unwell/ not knowing if I was going to wake up.

Feeling my collar bones/ seeing them poke through at all times.

Not having my period (wtffff I’m still upset about this one.)

One binge not ruining EVERYTHING, because I haven't eaten in so long.

Finally having a jawline.

Not getting frustrated when people around me eat less than me without even trying.

Feeling pretty for once in my life.

My ribs (I MISS THEM.)

Workout plan (once every day + burn off all excess!!)

50 sit ups

https://youtu.be/nO3fVMzvDrs?si=i2Yg_LfLvYLOXXIb. (Abs)

https://youtu.be/gWmSLJ39cFg?si=lMi-IwSeUhRz4eNu (thighs)

1 minute plank

Stretching (as needed)

(This is the diet I’m doing ⬇️)

Additional rules for myself!!

Fast one whole day before I see someone + up until we meet. (Accounts for forced eating/ social eating).

If I go over the diet: I will throw 🆙 + exercise until the entirety of the excess is burnt off.

No buying snacks to have in my dorm.

No skipping workout unless I have fasted two days in a row.

Water is fine + doesn’t count. (Am aiming for 1L a day.)

No eating anything that doesn’t have a nutrition facts label / can’t be logged with 100% certainty.

If I go over 800cal I fast the next day indefinitely.

I think that’s all! Lemme know if you have any additional ideas for things I can do to lose more faster. I’m trying to give myself a little grace because I’ll also be working + starting a new quarter at university (and I’m sick right now). I try to tell myself grades come before all of this but idkkk anymore tbh.

Thx and happy new year x3

-j

[buttonloops]

I have something to say and it might be upsetting but

I'm really tired of this narrative that any attempt to deliberately lose weight is fatphobic and disordered

that counting calories or tracking macros or removing foods from your diet is automatically unhealthy and an eating disorder

I spent half a decade genuinely believing that "it's impossible to lose weight" and that "diets don't work" and steadily getting fatter. it made my life worse but I thought it was inevitable and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought that any attempt to examine my nutritional habits would be dangerous and so I just kept eating whatever I felt like eating or whatever seemed easiest and I kept feeling terrible and I kept gaining weight.

this spring something snapped in me and I decided I couldn't keep going on like this anymore. I was scared that I was doing something Wrong by attempting to lose weight, and I wasn't sure it was even possible but guess what, it totally is.

I started weighing myself regularly again and logging it on a graph.

I started writing down what I was eating in an app and looking at the patterns. I drifted back into a low-carb pattern of eating, as that's always been where my body feels best. For me, that looks like 50-80g of carbs most days, sometimes hovering closer to 20g/day or 100g/day for a week at a time.

If I genuinely want something, I eat it. But I discovered that sugar and sweets and pastries and even many complex carbs don't satiate me, but leave me wanting more and more until I feel physically stuffed but somehow still hungry and unsatisfied.

I also discovered that I don't actually need to force myself to eat if I'm not hungry. Spent years ignoring my hunger when I WAS hungry because I didn't want to put in the effort to get myself food, but also forcing myself to eat on days I WASN'T hungry because I thought skipping meals was bad and dangerous. Turns out my body is more resilient than I was giving it credit for. I have a whole lot of stored energy available, and I'm not going to starve if I'm genuinely uninterested in food and skip a meal.

I've gotten reacquainted with how hunger feels, and the ways meals tastes so much better when I'm a little hungry for them, and when they're the right macro balance that my body craves. Also it's incredible to not feel bloated and sleepy after every meal! I can eat enough to be energetic and refreshed but not feel lethargic and weighed down!

I've discovered that some foods I've been eating for years actually disagree with me quite strongly (looking at you, eggs).

I've lost almost forty pounds since May. I was obese class II and now I'm almost back down to only overweight. (Before you come at me about the BMI scale being flawed, the latest findings are apparently that it *underestimates* the number of people with unhealthy amounts of fat!)

I feel better in my skin. I feel lighter on my feet. I have more energy. I'm eating foods I like and that leave me feeling good. And yet every day on this accursed internet I see people saying that diets don't work and that trying to lose weight is fatphobic and that counting calories or weighing yourself is disordered.

I wish I hadn't listened to that for so long. It's probably going to take me another year to get back down to a healthy weight for my size, where I used to be. I wish I'd figured some of this out before I got so far away from that.

[mrsterlingeverything]

I recommend push/pull/leg split and writing stuff down so you can track progress. Been doing this for years and it’s the best so far. Also remember to eat well and get your calories and macros in.

Okay yess PPL. I finally cracked the weight gain part i just need to count calories every day but yeah im trying to focus more on exercise now. Any app recs orr

[whentherewerebicycles]

processing some weight gain stuff under the cut

okay. in 18 weeks of pregnancy I have gained 15 pounds, which according to the guidelines I was given is a LOT more than I’m supposed to have gained at this stage. based on my starting weight I am only supposed to gain 15-25 lbs total across the entire pregnancy, which idk people seem to be mixed on whether that’s actually realistic but that is what the doctor says. in the last two weeks I went up 4 lbs, and that was with a terrible cold that totally killed my appetite and made it very easy to not indulge in holiday food (I couldn’t taste anything). I am exercising a little less (30-45 min daily walks instead of 45-75) but not like, SO much less yknow? and I have also been tracking my caloric intake on an app to make sure I’m not going over (although I think my real motivation there is if a doctor gives me a hard time about weight gain I’m going to be like yeah well here’s 15+ weeks of data on my eating habits so you tell ME what’s going on).

the point is that based on a calories in calories out model I shouldn’t be gaining this much weight this fast but I am. that’s just what seems to be happening! so I think I just have to LET GO and accept that my body is going to do whatever it thinks is best to support the pregnancy. I can still make good choices but I need to decouple the choices from the outcomes. or like, I need to accept that my good choices will produce good outcomes (I’ll be eating nourishing food and moving my body regularly!) but those outcomes will probably not include weight loss or a slowing of weight gain. here is what I will continue doing:

meal plan every week—I might want to start thinking about meal planning snacks too esp as I am feeling hungrier during the day

eat lots of fruits and vegetables every day

eat very limited amounts of processed foods and watch out for added sugars

walk briskly for 30-45 min a day

go to this hourlong weights class at least 2x a week (ideally 3x) and tack on 20-25 min of cardio on the bike after

I could also try going to the gym more often to do low-impact cardio—like trying to work in a couple days a week where I do 45 min on the elliptical while watching an episode of TV. I do find that in the past doing a lot of that mindless low effort activity seems to help with weight maintenance and is pretty easy to sustain because I’m just like, as long as I’m moving it counts! I don’t have to be pushing myself super hard! this is probably most doable for me on the weekends (and if I’m at the gym already it increases the chances that I might decide to run too).

ok so here’s a rough plan:

sat & sun: walk dogs (30-45 min x 2) + try to do 30 min x 2 of extra cardio while watching TV at the gym (or when liz is feeling better I can see if she wants to go together or do pregnancy workout videos)

mon & tues: weights class one of those days depending on work schedule + 20 min extra cardio one day + 30-45 min walk both days

wed: 30-45 min walk

thurs: this is my busy/long day with work stuff and rehearsal, but I can usually squeeze in a 20 min dog walk and could try parking far away and walking into work on days when it isn’t raining to get another 20+ min in

fri: weights class + 30-45 min walk

and I gotta remember I can make the walks less boring by 1) driving to a random neighborhood and walking from there and 2) talking to friends on the phone instead of just listening to stuff.

OKAY. the takeaway is: I DO NOT NEED TO FEEL GUILT OR SHAME ABOUT THE FACT THAT I AM PUTTING ON A LOT OF WEIGHT. I AM FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS PREGNANT! THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT MY BODY IS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING! I ALSO REFUSE TO LET DOCTORS OR THE INTERNET MAKE ME FEEL GUILTY ABOUT MY WEIGHT, BECAUSE I KNOW I AM MAKING HEALTHY CHOICES THAT ARE GOOD FOR MY BODY, MY BABY, AND MY MENTAL HEALTH. I ALSO WANT TO GENTLY DECOUPLE GOOD/HEALTHY CHOICES FROM SPECIFIC OUTCOMES. EATING WELL AND STAYING ACTIVE THROUGH MY PREGNANCY MAY NOT KEEP ME FROM GAINING “EXCESS” WEIGHT. BUT IT WILL MAKE ME FEEL BETTER IN MY BODY/SELF. IT WILL ENSURE THAT MY BABY IS GETTING LOTS OF GOOD NUTRIENTS. IT WILL HELP ME SLEEP BETTER AND FOCUS MORE AT WORK. IT WILL HOPEFULLY MAKE LABOR AND RECOVERY A LITTLE BIT EASIER TOO! I AM DOING ALL THE RIGHT THINGS AND IT IS OKAY THAT MY BODY IS NOT CONFORMING TO THE PRESCRIBED NORM. I TRUST MY BODY AND ASSUME IT HAS ITS REASONS!!!!!!!!!!!

[hoeforbillieeilish]

i see people online saying that even when they were at their lowest weight, they still weren't happy. well it's the opposite for me. i was thriving. i lived every day in a pink bubble thinking that this is my best life. i didn't have my period for a year, my nails were breaking, i distanced myself from my friends, had emotional outbursts. i was a nightmare for my parents. but then, naturally, the restriction got to a point where i couldn't hold it anymore and the cup spilled. i binged every single night, and gained 10 kgs in the span of a year. big events happened to me that year, but i can only remember the food part of it. when i would eat so much at my cousin's wedding that i purged like 4 times that night, or the afternoon before my prom i ate so much that i was so bloated in my dress that i was sobbing while getting ready. i don't remember having fun tho. i went from my family being concerned for my well being to being "cheaper to dress than to feed".

i miss that girl. it was her, her calorie counting app and a scale againts the world, and she was unstoppable.

[gonnabe-thatgirl]

Which app is best for calorie counting Guys????