#celebrity nutritionist

[professor-lawyer]

🌺2025 కి స్వాగతం పలుకుతూ, నా స్నేహితులు, సహోద్యోగులు, బంధువులు మరియు ప్రియమైన విద్యార్థులకు నా హృదయపూర్వక శుభాకాంక్షలు తెలియజేస్తున్నాను.

🎯ఈ సంవత్సరం మీ అందరికీ ఆనందం, ఆరోగ్యం మరియు విజయాల వర్ణ చిత్రము గా ఉండనివ్వండి.

🙏మిత్రులారా, మరిన్ని జ్ఞాపకాలను ఏర్పరచుకుందాం;

🤩సహోద్యోగులారా, కలిసి నూతన ఆవిష్కరణలు చేద్దాం మరియు మంచి పలితాలను సాధించుకుందాం ;

🙏బంధువులారా , మన బంధాలు మరింతగా బల��రుచుకుందాము ;

🧚విద్యార్థులారా, మీ అభ్యాస ప్రయాణం ఉత్తేజకరమైనది మరియు ఫలవంతమైనది గా మలుచుకుందాం.

🎯కొత్త అవకాశాలు, సవాళ్లు మరియు వృద్ధితో కూడిన సంవత్సరం ఇది. విశాల హృదయాలతో మరియు మనస్సులతో దీనిని స్వీకరించుకుందాం.

🙏2025 నూతన సంవత్సర శుభాకాంక్షలు! ఇది ప్రేమ, సంతోషం మరియు అద్భుతమైన అన్ని విషయాలతో నిండి ఉండనివ్వండి.

👍రాబోయే అద్భుతమైన 2025 సంవత్సరానికి శుభాకాంక్షలు! Always Yours-

Puttu Guru Prasad & Lakshmi Latha, VIVA-VVIT, Nambur, Guntur, Amaravathi, A.P, India.

[truwellth]

Dietitian in Thane, Mumbai

Rajashree Gadgil is the best Dietitian in Thane, Mumbai. Comes under the list of Top 10 Nutritionist in Mumbai. Best Dietician in Mumbai. Best Nutritionist in Thane. Best Dietician in Thane West.

[ur-mag]

Barcelona star Robert Lewandowski’s bizarre ‘backwards eating diet’ revealed and it’s inspired by nutritionist wife Anna | In Trend Today

Barcelona star Robert Lewandowski’s bizarre ‘backwards eating diet’ revealed and it’s inspired by nutritionist wife Anna Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[suchananewsblog]

Manisha Koirala Hopes To "Keep Up" With Having Only Salad For Lunch

It isn’t at all times straightforward to stay to a nutritious diet, particularly in case you are a foodie. But if we wish to be match, we’ve got to make sacrifices and follow dietary self-discipline. We are taking our cue from actress Manisha Koirala, who appears to know our plight. On her Insta tales, Manisha just lately posted a photograph of a wholesome veggie salad, with lettuce, cucumber and…

[paddockletters]

media day | franco colapinto

pairing: franco colapinto x reader summary: During media day, you accidentally gets asked for an interview, mistaken for a new member of the team. author’s note: first fic with franco kinda short but I have been willing to write for him and this was funny and I enjoyed writing it! Hope you like it!

The energy of media day buzzed around you, and while Franco darted from one interview to the next, you decided to keep a low profile and watch from the sidelines. But as you lingered, a reporter mistook you for someone on his team and approached, microphone in hand.

“Excuse me, could we get a quick interview with you?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off, then, spotting Franco’s bemused expression in the background, you decided to play along.

“Of course,” you said, fighting a smile.

“Great! So, could you tell us a bit about your role with the team?”

You glanced over to Franco, who was watching with barely hidden laughter. He mouthed, “Inventá algo” (make up something) giving you a mischievous wink.

“Oh, um, I’m… Franco’s diet coordinator?” you improvised.

Franco nearly choked trying to keep his composure, and you went on, sounding as official as possible.

“I’m responsible for overseeing every single thing he eats on race weekends. It’s a delicate balance of nutrition and… well, superstition.”

“Really?” The reporter looked intrigued, jotting down notes. “What’s an example of a typical race day meal?”

Franco slipped behind the reporter, out of her view, and whispered, “decile empanadas y alfajores.” (say empanadas and alfajores)

“Oh, well, there are specific requirements. For breakfast, it’s usually a light protein shake, and closer to the race, it’s… empanadas and alfajores for energy.” You said, fighting a grin.

“Alfajores and empanadas… interesting, it’s an Argentinian food?” the reporter remarked, clearly surprised.

“Yep, and don’t forget the Fernet with cola—that’s for the post-race celebration.” Franco jumped in, trying to keep a straight face.

You barely held it together but nodded solemnly.

“It’s all about balance.”

Once the reporter moved on, you turned to Franco, who was in stitches.

“¿Vos sos boludo o qué? empanadas y fernet?” (Are you dumb or what? empanadas and fernet?)

“Eh, tenías que decirle algo que me representara ¿no?” (Hey, you had to tell her something that represented me, right?) he replied with a grin.

“If she writes an article saying your race diet is alfajores, I’m never letting you live it down.” You nudged him, still laughing.

“No pasa nada, mi reina” (No problem, my queen) he said wrapping an arm around your shoulders and smirking. “Maybe you just scored me a few more argentinean fans!”

“Oh, great. Now I’m the ‘nutritionist’ who approves empanadas for a Formula 1 driver” you replied with a playful roll of your eyes and Franco just laughed, pulling you closer.

"Although I still don’t know how she didn’t figure out I have nothing to do with the team. I mean, I’m not even wearing the team kit" you said, still wrapped in his arms.

"Well, maybe she assumed because you had your phone and my cap in hand. Either way, that was fun, but I don’t think there’ll be a second time" Franco replied with a grin from ear to ear. With this prank, especially if it aired on TV, fans would love Franco even more.

alfajores: soft cookies sandwiched with dulce de leche (a caramel-like spread) and often coated in chocolate or rolled in coconut. empanadas: savory pastries filled with ingredients like beef, chicken, or cheese and seasoned uniquely in each region. fernet: a bitter, herbal spirit, famously mixed with coca cola (“fernet con coca”) and served over ice.

[trainedbyphil]

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[puckinghischier]

celebrations with luke though after the game. like i don't even care even just cuddles i feel like he'd be so happy especially if you were there to witness the goal, he'd have looked for you in the stands to see you cheering and he'd just be so happy. ugh.

you’d rush out of there as fast as you could, already on the phone ordering all kinds of snacks and goodies to surprise him with after the game. you’d know you have a little extra time, considering he’d be held up with media for a good while after they hit the locker room.

you’re stopping by several stores on the way back to your apartment. bakeries, grocery stores, restaurants, and even a little party store for silly hats and confetti poppers. you text jack to make sure luke is distracted and unable to leave until you send him a green light text, not wanting him to walk in on the middle of you arranging his celebration.

you let jack know you were almost ready, putting the final touches on the junk food spread. you have just enough time to throw a red party hat on your head and grab a confetti popper before you hear the door opening, ready to celebrate his goal and their win.

the second he rounds the corner into the kitchen, you pull the string on the popper and watch his small jump backwards, red confetti falling all over his damp curls.

“surprise!!! congratulations lukey!!!” you exclaim, running towards him and slamming your small frame into his large one. he laughs at your enthusiasm, hugging you back just as tightly, picking you up just enough that your feet aren’t touching the floor before sitting you back down.

you pull back, looking up at him with a proud, toothy grin. he returns your lovey look, smiling just as wide as he looks down at you. “proud of you, lucas,” you tell him, using the full name that isn’t really his own, simply because you know it irks him. he rolls his eyes at the name, but his smile never falters.

“thanks, you big dork,” he responds, flicking the paper hat on your head, his cheeks only slightly red from all the attention you’re giving him. he moves his face down to give you a short, but sweet, kiss.

the second his lips detach from yours, you step back from him, preventing yourself from getting too distracted and lost in his kisses. “so, let me show you tonight’s gourmet meal,” you grab his hand, leading him to the island that’s covered in every single one of his favorite treats.

you have cookies from his favorite bakery, brownies from his favorite cafe, several pizzas from his favorite pizza place, all of his favorite kinds of chips and snacks, and in the freezer you have a carton of every single ice cream flavor he likes. it looks like a kids birthday party gone wild, but you didn’t care. he scored his first goal of the season tonight. he deserves junk food and tacky hats.

“oh my god, coach is gonna kill me if he finds out this is what i ate after a game,” were the first words out of his mouth, eyes taking in all the greasy food and sugary treats.

“well, he can get over it. you deserve it tonight. i went through all this trouble to get your favorites, so just indulge me and eat them, yeah?” you scold him slightly as you take the cone-shaped hat off of your head, not caring about what the coach or team nutritionist has to say about it. it’s not like he won’t have a chance to work it all off in the next couple of days anyways.

you hand him a plate and watch him load it up with as much food as it can hold, making his way over to the couch where you have his favorite movie queued up and ready to play.

“the secretariat? oh you really do know how to make a guy feel special, huh?” he half jokes, a hint of genuine excitement in his voice.

you join him on the couch and shush him while you press play, your own plate of treats sat in front of you. the two of you snack and watch, eventually finding your way on top of him to lay on his chest as he lays on his back, head turned just enough to still see the tv. his hand drags lazily up and down your back as yours traces light shapes on his clothed pectoral muscle.

the two of you had been quiet for some time, enjoying each others company and watching the movie, but luke’s voice breaks the marathon of silence.

“you know, m’glad you were there to see it. felt nice being able to look up and see you cheering for me after i scored,” he tells you, not taking his eyes off of the tv screen.

“of course i was cheering for you. are you crazy? i’ve been planning this for weeks, just waiting for the moment to finally happen. you’ve been trying so hard to get your first goal, everyone could see it,” you move to rest your chin on his chest, loving the relaxed look on his face. “but i’m glad i could be there, too. was so scared you were gonna score on the road and i was gonna miss it. well, miss it in person anyways. i’m always watching.”

he turns to look at you, not being able to keep his lips from stretching into another smile. it’s a common occurrence, he realizes. he can hardly look at you without smiling anymore, always filled with so much love and adoration for you he doesn’t know what else to do.

“know you are. can feel it every night,” he reaches up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, letting his hand linger on the ends of it, twirling it around his fingers.

“i am super proud of you, y’know that, right? not saying it just because. i meant it when i said everyone can see how hard you’ve been trying, and it’s a well deserved goal,” you tell him again, never missing a chance to let him know just how proud of him you really are.

he legitimately blushes this time, always being one to shy away from praise. you reach a hand up to tap the tip of his nose, smiling when he scrunches it and turns his head in protest. “stop booping my nose, you’re gonna ruin my reputation one of these days,” he swats your hand away, dropping the strand of hair.

“luke…what reputation? everyone knows you’re a big softie,” you deadpan, causing a pout to form on his lips. “plus, there’s no one here except me and you right now.”

“i’m supposed to be a big scary hockey player, i can’t have my girlfriend booping my nose all the time,” he argues, whining through his pout.

“aww, baby,” you fake sympathy, “you are a big scary hockey player, don’t worry. you showed that net and that goalie who was boss tonight.” you reach up to pat his cheek.

he huffs, not appreciating the little laugh you let out after your sentence.

you stop your chuckles, easing yourself back into the previous conversation. “i’m just kidding. but really, luke, i’m proud of you. and so is jack. glad he was the one who got the assist and you could experience this with him,” you tell him earnestly, loving the moment the brothers shared on the ice after the goal. “your whole team is proud of you, too. you’ve been playing so well lately. you deserve to be celebrated every night, but especially tonight.”

he leans in for another kiss, ignoring the awkward angle of his neck, bringing his hands down to push you up his body by your ass, bringing your face closer to his. the kiss is soft and slow, no rush, just raw emotions conveyed through it.

once the two of you pull back to catch your breath, you rest your forehead against his.

“proud to have you by my side through all this too, you know? couldn’t do it without you,” luke whispers into the small space between your lips. “mean it. you do so much for me, and i wouldn’t want to come home to anyone else tonight. or any night. you’re more than my good luck charm, y/n, you’re my rock. my calm in a storm. my steady hands on a sloppy goal attempt,” his words cause your own blush to paint your cheeks. “just glad i landed this shot, most of all. don’t know where i’d be if i hadn’t.”

you can feel the tears prick at your eyes, not wanting to be a blubbering mess on what’s supposed to be his night.

“alright you big sap, this is your night, you can’t make me cry before we even get eat all the ice cream i bought,” you sniffle, bringing a hand up to dab at the corners of your eyes with a wet laugh.

luke’s eyes widen, face suddenly brighter than it had been all night. “wait, you bought ice cream!?” is all you hear as you’re being lifted off his chest and dropped onto the couch while he slips out from under you, rushing to the the freezer, your sentimental moment long forgotten at the promise of a frozen treat.

[muzaktomyears]

Yoko’s life revolved around her acquisitions, but her most valuable acquisition was John. By marrying Lennon she had established herself as a celebrity and financial power to be reckoned with. It was the process of acquisition – not the object itself – that kept Yoko going. Antiques were routinely delivered, examined, and carted off to Apartment 71 or to the basement for storage. Clothes were bought and hung up, never to be worn. Once she had acquired something, Yoko lost interest in it. She lost interest in John after they were reunited and she lost interest in Sean after he was born. She treated them both with an icy reserve bordering on contempt.

Life became complicated for Yoko because John was not an inanimate object, but a human being – one with an active imagination, a strong sex drive, boundless energy, and a terrible temper. Indeed, Yoko lived in fear of John’s occasional outbursts of anger and frustration. Although he remained quietly behind closed doors most of the time, she knew well that John’s passive and self-absorbed behavior masked an overwhelming restlessness. Like an old lion, he could turn and bite your head off when you least expected it. Whenever John got a little stir-crazy upstairs and threatened to become “difficult”, Yoko attempted frantically to appease him with vague promises, or she would scare him with ominous psychic predictions and mystical mumbo jumbo. Usually, Yoko could keep John in line with a few carefully chosen words. One of her favorite ploys for controlling him was to tell him that the planet Mercury was going retrograde, a perilous astrological period during which accidents were likely to happen. When I asked John what Mercury being retrograde meant, he explained that it was an astrological period when the planet Mercury, “the messenger”, appeared to move backward against the sun, causing massive disruptions in communications and generally creating “chaos in the cosmos”. Yoko was always to tell me that we had to keep John isolated for his own good. Once in a while, John would try to circumvent Yoko’s strict rules, but he would often regret it soon afterward. For instance, one day John was listening to radio station WBAI when he heard a very eloquent, urgent plea for contributions. New subscribers were to receive a copy of a book titled The Devil Was a Woman. John wanted the book, and as WBAI was one of the radio stations he frequently listened to – he was particularly interested in nutritionist Gary Null’s health show – he impulsively ordered me to call up and contribute one thousand dollars on his behalf. Immediately, the station announced the contribution. When Yoko heard about it, she read me the riot act. She reminded me angrily that whenever John acted impulsively, I was to bring his behavior to her attention before following his orders. I was to consult her about all matters involving John and “human relations”, or his having dealings with the outside world. “After all,” explained Yoko, “I’m here to protect him.” I assured her I understood perfectly. Yoko had the key to John Lennon, and she used it to make John her sole possession by taking him out of public circulation. The old lion had pulled in his claws eagerly and agreed to give up rock and roll and its deleterious lifestyle. Because of his self-destructive behavior when he was on his own, John believed that the only sane alternative was to isolate himself. Moreover, Yoko had offered him the opportunity to try parenthood all over again. When she managed to give birth to Sean against all odds, John took it as a sign of divine intervention. He told me that both he and Sean were “riding on Mother’s good luck”. His childlike dependence on Yoko was so great that he dreaded the thought of Yoko dying before he did. “I hope I go first,” John had told me, “because if Mother died before me I wouldn’t be able to face life on my own.” He had resigned himself completely to the proposition that he could not survive without Yoko. Thus, John willingly sacrificed his freedom for the illusion of safety. And it was part of Yoko’s Faustian pact that she had to keep John, for better or for worse, and remain an appendage to John’s fame and to the pervasive Beatles legend, no matter how much she craved independence and personal fame. It was no wonder that she bitterly resented John, even as she was constantly conscious of the need to retain his loyalty. Without John Lennon, Yoko Ono was just an eccentric lady with no money and no power – and for this she would never forgive him.

John Lennon: Living on Borrowed Time, Frederic Seaman (1991)

[vivwritesfics]

Well, the time has come for a Lando GP win story where he meets reader or Carlos after his win! Please write one, I absolutely love your writing!

I would love a Carlando fic, but reader is alright too! Whatever is your mood❤️

Ok this is nothing against this nonnie, but you guys have got to realise I only write reader inserts, right? Like, I have never written something that is just driver x driver and I never will

He was gonna party is fucking ass off. Why wouldn't he? He'd won in Miami and he was, and I quote, gonna get lit.

Max (Verstappen) dragged him out to the club. He'd achieved so many wins himself that celebrating his own achievements was going to wreck his liver. But, for little Lando Norris, first time race winner? Max would risk his liver.

And they really did party their asses off. Lando ended u2p DJ-ing for all of twenty minutes, sunglasses upside down on his face.

How many girls had he made out with? He wasn't sure, but he'd spotted the one he wanted to take home with him.

He walked up to her, but she spoke to him first, finger stretched out, pointed to where Max was doing that one dance move he has where he sort of moves his arm. And then she leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "Your friend told me to call you no wins," she shouted over the thumping bass of the music.

He let out his typical giggle, the one that was a sort of shriek as well, tongue poking between his teeth. "He told you to call me no wins?" He echoed.

She nodded her head. "What does it mean?"

"Nothing now!"

Lando danced with her for the rest of the night. He snogged her in the middle of the dance floor and held her hand as he walked her out of the club, to the taxi that was going to take him back to his hotel room.

He slept with her, sure, but that isn't the important bit.

Waking up beside her was. Lando opened his eyes to see her beside him, still sleeping. He let out a groan and stretched his body up, accidentally moving the blankets away from her.

That woke her up.

Lando was in that stage of his life where hook ups never really stayed until breakfast. He wanted her to do the same, but how was he meant to ask her? But then she woke up and started talking to him.

Maybe it was because she called him no wins the entire time. Maybe it was because she had Lando doing that shrieking giggle. But he invited her to stay for breakfast.

Lando's breakfast was normally pre-prepared by his nutritionist. Thank God he was in a hotel room; he couldn't imagine anything worse than her watching him run around his kitchen as he searched for something for her to eat.

Luckily, he didn't have to think about that. He threw her clothes from the club at her, let her borrow a jumper, and took her out for breakfast. There wasn't long before Lando was supposed to fly back to Monaco, but he made the most of every moment with her.

Before he left, he gave her his number, put it in her phone.

"You're gonna come back to Miami, right, no wins?" She'd asked him.

He promised that he would.

[professor-lawyer]

#Citation for the First Anniversary Celebration of the Grand Reception😍

😍On this joyous occasion, we gather to commemorate the first anniversary of the magnificent reception of Ranjit Guru Darshan and Ramya, held at the prestigious Venkatesh Grand Hotel, Guntur. This memorable event brought together family, friends, and well-wishers to celebrate the union of two beautiful souls, marking the beginning of a lifelong journey of love, trust, and companionship.

🥰As we reflect on the past year, we celebrate the milestones and cherish the memories created by this young couple. Their unwavering commitment, mutual respect, and love for one another inspire us all.

🤩We extend our heartfelt blessings and wishes for their future on this special day. May their lives be filled with endless happiness, good health, and abundant prosperity. May they continue to grow together, supporting and uplifting each other through every phase of life.

👏Here’s to a bright and successful future for Ranjit Guru Darshan and Ramya, and may their bond only strengthen with time. Happy First Anniversary!

🧚‍♀️With love and blessings,

👫Puttu Guru Prasad & Lakshmi Latha, Guntur

[truwellth]

Diabetes Dietitian in Thane Mumbai

Rajashree Gadgil is the best Diabetes Dietitian in Thane Mumbai. Top Diabetic Diet Counselling Doctor in Mumbai. Diabetic Dietitian in Mumbai. Best Dietician in Thane West. Best Dietician in Mumbai.

[ur-mag]

Barcelona star Robert Lewandowski’s bizarre ‘backwards eating diet’ revealed and it’s inspired by nutritionist wife Anna | In Trend Today

Barcelona star Robert Lewandowski’s bizarre ‘backwards eating diet’ revealed and it’s inspired by nutritionist wife Anna Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[o-sachi]

Do a Somersalt ! ‧₊˚ ⋅ Blue Lock Chars. (Request)

ଳ how would the blue lock boys react to a gymnast s/o who is muscular? ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, reo mikage, chigiri hyoma, michael kaiser, shidou ryusei ଳ tags; floof, afab reader, no y/n

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi

"You're going to the gym? Can I come too?"

The man is absolutely mesmerized by you. The way you look alone never fails to amaze him. But when you're in your element? He's definitely somewhere—melting into a puddle after witnessing your moves.

An absolute sucker for your muscles, especially the thighs. He'll poke at 'em, squish 'em, and lay his head on 'em.

He will always always always ask to watch your competitions. It's only fair that he provide moral support for you since you do the same for his football games. Hell—even if it's just practice, he'll try to come and watch you anyway.

He loves the way you look, but a small part of him wants to be more muscular as well because he thinks he'd embarrass you if he wasn't as lean as you :(

"Hey, what would you think if I were more muscular?" / "Hmm, I'd be pretty proud, but you look great as you are." / "Be for real." / "I am being for real though?"

Doesn't really dwell on that thought. It's more of a fleeting one if anything. He's more preoccupied about admiring you anyway.

ᯓ Bachira Meguru

"How the fuck did you flip like that? I wanna do it too."

Expect him to hound you about teaching him all your "cool" moves. He'll ask about the complicated ones even though both of you know that he won't be doing that with just an explanation, a demo, and a prayer.

Bachira's quite flexible though, so you do manage to teach him some stuff. He was SO ecstatic the first time he was able to do a move that you two had been going over for an hour.

"Babe, I think I'm ready to do a double back salto tucked with a triple twist." / "Okay, first of all, even I can't do that... and two, how do you know that?" / "There's this little thing called 'the internet'?"

He's not really one to be too observant of what body type his s/o has, but he'll always compliment your muscles.

The way his face lights up when both of you find out you can lift him up like a baby is priceless. It may or may not be the reason why he loves your muscles so much...

ᯓ Nagi Seishiro

"Ah... can you carry me back? What? I'm not that heavy..."

Nagi loves your muscles. They're firm, but they make good pillows. He says he falls asleep faster when he's in your arms or when his head is resting on your lap.

Another reason is because you can give him piggyback rides. Sure, he's more than 6 feet tall and still weighs more than you, but you suck it up and try to lift him anyway.

He's so in awe of all the moves that you do on the bars or on the floor. If he's watching you compete, he's most likely thinking about how much of a hassle those moves are.

"Don't you get tired of swinging around like that? Looks tough." / "You know that football matches are 90 minutes long, right?" / "...I know and I hate running for that long."

After both of your trainings, he'll invite you to take a long ass nap in the ac and under the comfiest blanket ever. It's impossible to say no to him.

ᯓ Reo Mikage

"Hey, your video got 500 likes already—as expected."

He pretty much has documented your entire career with how many pictures and videos he has taken of you training or performing. He has his own archive for your competitions too.

"Baby, there is no such thing as too much when it comes to you." / "Um... actually—" / "Shhh... shh..."

You two have the same trainer, nutritionist, manager—everything. He'll introduce you to his team that keeps him in tip-top shape for football so that you can be your best self in gymnastics too.

If he's unable to attend a competition of yours, he'll send someone to watch and record it for him.

Of course, he'll make it up by throwing an epic celebration for you regardless if you won or not. Reo will shower you with endless praise.

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma

"The judges don't know what the fuck they're doing, honestly."

He's like... such a mom when he comes to watch your competitions. He'll be sitting in the audience—both amazed and a bit worried when you do risky moves.

When the judges score lower than what he expects, he'll start muttering under his breath about how stupid they are and that you deserve WAAAY higher.

The biggest hype man ever. It doesn't matter if you won or lost—he'll always express his admiration for you. If you did win, he'll celebrate the heck out of it with you. But if you lost, he'll reassure you and still celebrate for the effort you put in.

He likes choosing your leotard and hairstyle for you. When you give him the liberty to do so, the biggest smile appears on his face.

"Hmm... this purple one looks good, but I like the red one too." / "Hyoma, you know I'm only going to practice, right?" / "I know, I know."

ᯓ Michael Kaiser

"I only got into it because of you, y'know?"

He will shamelessly ogle your muscles. It's one thing that they look great. But it's another to know that you put in tons of hard work and discipline into building that kind of body. And he respects that quite a lot.

His knowledge of gymnastics when you first started dating was little to none. But suddenly he's so into it now. He watches other gymnasts' routines and learns the common moves and rules in competitions.

Mihya acts lowkey about it, but he feels a sense of pride seeing you happy when the two of you get to talk about the thing you love the most. It'll start of with him initiating the topic, then you'll just rant until you're tired. He won't complain though.

He felt like his heart was sucked right out of his chest when he saw your outfit for a certain competition. It was a black and blue leotard with blue roses on it. You swore his eyes watered a bit, but apparently it was just the wind...

"Well... you look great." / "Are you crying?" / "Huh? Crying? Psh. You're literally seeing things." / "Okay, Gaslighter3000."

ᯓ Shidou Ryusei

"Heh, wanna bet who can do more flips in a minute?"

He's actually glad that you're strong and muscular because it means he doesn't have to hold back as much. Also, he's just into the whole muscle mommy thing. Yes, he's that guy.

Shidou knows you can do pretty amazing things which, of course, leads to the most bizarre hypotheticals and bets ever.

"Babe, do you think you could flip off of that ledge?" / "Seriously. Look at it. It's like twice your height and it's all cement." / "Oh so then you're lame? I bet I could do that."

As much as you'd love to bring him to competitions... he just gets too excited (not that kind of excited). He'll start shouting and cheering you to the point that everyone will be looking at him.

His phone's storage is like 70% videos of you performing moves or you training. He finds it adorable when you're putting in work and doing things that can blow people away.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[gyllenhaalstories]

ELWOOD DALTON DRABBLE

trope: fake dating

warnings: violence, death, pr relationship. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 800

photo credit: iheartjake / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: thank you to @sizzlingcloudmentality for the spin the wheel activity and for encouraging me to post my results as actual little drabbles. 🥰 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

This follows the events of that one infamous fight that ultimately ended Dalton's UFC career. Dalton had yet to decide whether this would put his career to rest for good or not. He still had fights in him, he knew it. He knew he could go for the belt again, but the world certainly did not want him to. His team was desperate to improve the public's opinion of Dalton, so people saw him as more than a murderer, so people stopped talking about how he killed Harris in the octagon that night. Many ideas were thrown around: visit an animal shelter and take photos with a funky looking dog, leak a bunch of nudes and make it seem accidental, say he's going to a rehab facility for God knows what. The rehab one hit a sensitive nerve. Maybe he did not need rehab, but Dalton started to understand he might need help. There was something in him, a fire, that terrified him. He killed his opponent on accident, how far could he go? His team was searching for some miracle. Anything, they considered anything. Brands had ended their contracts with him abruptly, trainers abandoned him, most friends (within and outside of the UFC) left him behind... No one wanted to be around him. No one except you.

Perhaps you were a long-time friend who knew him before he became a notorious fighter, perhaps you were someone who worked with him (assistant? social media manager? nutritionist? a massage therapist? skilled trainer who could kick him across the room? professional ice bath provider? you choose). You stayed by his side and watched everyone ditch him in the dirt. His manager (or whatever replacement they got to handle the crisis since his actual representative left as soon as shit hit the fan, typical) came up with this great idea. A new relationship. A new image. After Dalton the fearless fighter, Dalton the rage-filled killer, the world could discover Dalton the loving boyfriend. Dalton could not be more against it, he refuses to drag you into his mess. Your reputation has been affected already just by existing in his vicinity, he can't let things get worse. He does not want any of this fake-dating story either. But you... You know it would help him. You want to help him.

So Dalton gives in and you guys start to date. Photos are staged so you have content to post on your social media, pretending you had been going on several dates with the former fighter. All these dates happened within the same week and lasted barely long enough to capture a cute picture. Cute captions, cuter anniversary stories to celebrate months spent together and different milestones in the relationship. Appearances to random events, mostly parties or brand deals when they warm up to Dalton again as they see the traction he is receiving online. There are some paid and planned pap walks too, to catch Dalton as he walks in and out of the gym to give the impression he is getting back on track. He slipped, but it does not mean he fell. Everything happens in a hurry. You become his arm candy. You can't lie, you appreciate the luxurious treatment and you enjoy to share these memories with someone you appreciate. However, you hate that it makes Dalton so uncomfortable. You knew this fake and extremely public relationship would help him...

But did Dalton want to be helped at all? The two of you share a real, heartfelt conversation and you are hit with the realization. The relationship eventually ends with a photograph of the two of you looking your best. No harm. No bitterness. A mutual agreement your relationship has lived its time. Dalton and you share a moment together alone again, far away from cameras and people's nosiness. He tells you that he wants to disappear. No. That he needs to disappear. He has spent so many years of his life in the public eye, he craved anonymity. He wanted more than ever to be in control of his life. You understand he is chasing for something greater than you and let him choose his fate now that the world sees him as nothing but a furious animal. Despite all the efforts, despite the fake relationship.

You let him go. Dalton disappears out of your life and you don't hear from him for a long time. Dalton travels the country, taking bus ride after bus ride going nowhere. He gets lost in the different cities he visits, he gets lost in the thoughts that haunt him at night. Maybe, eventually, he realizes that letting go of his career was the right thing to do. Maybe, eventually, he realizes that he made a mistake when he let you go too.