#even though risking burning down your whole building seems excessive..

[longelk]

it never slips my mind that kaycee died young but it took me a bit to register that her manner of death is one of the most unimaginably painful ones to go through. oh well if homegirl was lucky she passed out from the smoke before she could feel her skin peel off 😁🤞

[when-a-humble-bard]

in ways that can’t be said

Summary: Geralt lives in a very dark and violent world. Good things are few and far between. He doesn't know what it means, really, to be in love.So when he falls in love with Jaskier, it happens slowly. Gradually. Reluctantly.Or, 10 moments where Geralt falls a little more in love with the bard no matter how much it scares him. Geraskier.

Companion piece to this fic but can be read separately.

Word Count: 6961

Warnings: canon-typical peril and violence, blood, injury, death mention (but no actual death), light Geralt whump, feral!Jaskier, headaches, fear of sensory overload, cursing, interpretation of canon scene with shipping lens, Yennefer makes a brief appearance, Ciri is part of this at one point, emotionally constipated Geralt, and then emotionally-overwhelmed Geralt, lots of softness and hurt/comfort elements, let me know if other warnings should be added.

A/N: These two have so much story to explore together, and I’m apparently just along for the ride. Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine.

Read on AO3!

...

I.

Geralt is on his second ale when the bard starts his set. The Witcher stays tucked away in the corner of the tavern where he usually prefers to sit, as it provides a decent vantage point of the room. That it also encouraged other people to leave him alone was, really, just an added bonus. Tonight seemed to be no exception that rule. Jaskier had sat across from him and jabbered on as he always did—his energy especially heightened given that it was right before a performance—but he had been the only one to engage the Witcher in conversation thus far.

The bard usually burned off his excess energy during his set. Geralt finds himself hoping the bard doesn’t expend too much of that energy, as they needed to head out early in the morning. Tired Jaskier was an even chattier Jaskier, and Geralt wasn’t sure he had the patience for it.

Jaskier is standing on the small stage across the tavern. Through the haze of idle chatter and drinks being poured at the bar, Geralt listens to Jaskier finish tuning the lute. The final string the bard plucks sounds slightly higher pitched than usual to the Witcher. He sees the tip of Jaskier’s tongue poke out between his lips in concentration, adjusting something on the instrument. He plucks it again. It sounds right to Geralt now, and the bard seems to agree if his satisfied nod is anything to go by.

He starts off with a popular tune—the one about the daughter of a fish merchant—and Geralt turns his attention to the venison and potatoes the barmaid sets in front of him before she quickly ducks away. Geralt stops paying close attention to Jaskier’s performance as his mind drifts to the rumors he’d caught wind of regarding a wraith. The trick would be finding someone who could confirm or deny the rumors; and if confirm, then someone who would pay him a fair price to deal with it.

He could also go kill it himself and hope to be able to sell it for parts, perhaps. That was riskier business, though. Still, Geralt considers the merits of it as Jaskier performs.

“Bard!” A sharp voice yanks Geralt from his thoughts. An older man, with thinning blonde hair and a stocky build, has leapt to his feet and immediately claimed the attention of the room. “If you keep singin’ the praises of the fuckin’ Butcher of Blaviken, I’ll break that fuckin’ lute o’er your fuckin’ head.”

Geralt’s jaw works. He’d always hated that name. He hates how it follows him like a shadow, the way it makes his arms feel heavy with Renfri’s unconscious weight every time he hears it. Still, it’s not a fight worth starting when he needs work and the man’s worst offense is using a name that travels with Geralt like a curse he can’t get rid of. He flexes his grip around the tankard in his hands instead.

“Sir,” Jaskier says, an odd and barely constrained edge to his voice, “the White Wolf is widely regarded as a hero across the Continent.”

“The Butcher ain’t no hero,” the man spits. “Just a monster gettin’ off on the sufferin’ of others.”

It’s an unoriginal insult, Geralt thinks. The Witcher’s lips press into a thin line before he swallows down more of the ale in front of him. If Jaskier is smart, he’ll let it go. He’ll stick to the songs in his repertoire that aren’t about Geralt, and he should still be able to charm the audience enough to earn a bit of coin for his trouble.

But Jaskier is—evidently—not a smart man.

“Bold words coming from someone who is too much a coward to face down the wraith plaguing his own town. The only thing you have less of than honor, sir, is shame. You slander the name of the very person ready to risk his life so that your crops don’t wither.” The bard’s eyes are aflame with indignation so strong it brings Geralt up short. “You call Geralt of Rivia a monster, but he is twice the man you will ever be.”

It’s such an impassioned, sincere defense… and all Geralt can do in the silence that seems to echo in the tavern after it is stare at the bard as something knots in his chest.

One of the man’s friends tugs on his arm and he sits again. Jaskier’s gaze doesn’t waver as he starts the next song.

“When a humble bard…”

II.

Jaskier drops a bucket of water onto his head, and Geralt hums at the welcomed shock, scrubbing the metallic, rancid scent of selkiemore off his face. The water smells faintly of rose, which the Witcher knows to be Jaskier’s doing. It’s… pleasant, if unnecessary.

“Now now,” Jaskier chides, “stop your boorish grunts of protest. It is one night of bodyguarding your very best friend in the whole wide world. How hard could it be?”

Geralt glances over at the bard. “I’m not your friend.” He wasn’t sure what Jaskier was to him, but friend seemed like the wrong term. It didn’t fit right in his mouth as a way to describe the bard.

“Oh, oh really? Oh, you usually just let strangers rub chamomile onto your lovely bottom?” Geralt levels a glare at Jaskier, but the bard seems unphased. “Yeah, well, yeah exactly. That’s what I thought.”

It’s all Geralt can do to not roll his eyes, watching Jaskier cross back to the salts and oils in front of him as he rambles. “Every lord, knight, and twopenny king worth his salt will be at this betrothal. The Lioness of Cintra herself of Jaskier’s triumphant performance!”

It’s a deflection at best, even as Jaskier throws some added salt to Geralt’s bath, and the Witcher just stares at the bard framed in the candlelight around them. He has the feeling Jaskier may be hiding something. Or rather, trying to redirect attention from something else.

“How many of these lords want to kill you?” Geralt asks flatly.

Jaskier’s façade deflates just a bit. “Hard to say,” he replies, and Geralt is reminded once again of how openly honest Jaskier tended to be. “One stops keeping count after a while. Wives, concubines, mothers sometimes.”

Geralt could do without the list, really. It sends a twist of unexpected annoyance through his chest. Jaskier notices—but then again, he’d always had this habit of paying more attention to Geralt’s expressions than most humans did. The Witcher isn’t sure why.

The bard sits on the edge of the tub, framing Geralt’s form with his outstretched hands. “Ooh, yeah, that face! Scary face. No lord in his right mind will come close if you’re standing next to me with a puss like that.”

Geralt reaches for his ale—he’s really not drunk enough to deal with this—when Jaskier snatches the cup out of his grip.

“Ooh, on second thought…” Jaskier continues, because he never seems to stop talking really, “might want to lay off the Cintran ale. A clear head would be best.” He pats Geralt’s shoulder as he stands.

It an unusually casual touch and Geralt’s skin tingles with it even after Jaskier steps away. Still, Geralt tries not to dwell on it. “I will not suffer tonight sober,” he growls, “just because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal pantry. I’m not killing anyone. Not over the petty squabbles of men.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” comes Jaskier’s voice from behind him. “You never get involved. Except you actually do, all the time.” Geralt snaps his gaze over to him, but he can’t find it in himself to argue with the bard on that point. Perhaps Jaskier had a point. At least on that front.

Jaskier crosses back in front of him. “Ugh,” he continues. “Is this what happens when you get old? You get unbearably crotchety and cantankerous?”

Geralt sighs, pulling his arms off the edge of the tub in the hopes that it will ease the way his shoulder is still tingling slightly from where Jaskier had rested his hand on it a moment ago.

“Actually, I’ve always wanted to know. Do Witchers ever retire?”

“Yeah,” Geralt snaps. “When they slow and get killed.”

“Come on,” Jaskier says, his voice softening just a little. “You must want something for yourself when all this monster hunting nonsense is over with.”

“I want nothing,” Geralt replies immediately. Instinctively, more than a legitimate answer. He hadn’t wanted anything for a very, very long time. And anything he may have wanted at one point certainly had proved itself impossible for a Witcher like himself to achieve, so what even would be the point to desire it in the first place?

There’s a waver to something in Jaskier’s eyes that puzzles the Witcher, but it’s gone before Geralt can put a name to it. “Well, who knows?” the bard says, crossing to the tub to crouch in front of Geralt. Jaskier is abruptly close like this, facing Geralt head-on while the Witcher sits in the wash basin. Geralt averts his eyes. “Maybe someone out there will want you.”

The idea that someone might want him one day like that—like how Jaskier is suggesting—sends a thrill of something almost like fear through the Wticher’s stomach.

“I need no one,” he replies immediately. Then he looks back at Jaskier. “And the last thing I want is someone needing me.”

“And yet,” Jaskier says softly, meeting Geralt’s gaze unwaveringly. “Here we are.”

And that—well. The almost-fear feeling in Geralt’s stomach turns to something a little less sharp. A little warmer. No less terrifying, and yet somehow… nice.

Geralt tears his gaze away, desperate for a distraction from that feeling. “Where the fuck are my clothes, Jaskier?”

III.

Geralt has lost track of just how many performances of Jaskier’s he has sat through over their years of travels together. He knows the bard’s musical repertoire nearly as well as he knows monster classifications. So really, the Witcher does not have an explanation, even to himself, of why this time is different.

But the bard is making his rounds, strumming his lute with a practiced ease, singing an exaggerated song about Geralt fending off a bruxa with one hand tied behind his back… and Geralt can’t take his eyes off him.

The Witcher had never enjoyed being the center of attention. A part of him had gotten used to it a long time ago—in his line of work, looking like he does, one has a nasty habit of drawing unwanted gazes—but he’d never sought it out. Then there was Jaskier, who thrived in environments just like this one, where he could command the center of attention. He thrived in backwater village taverns full of people desperate for mediocre ale and a good story.

And Geralt has to give credit where credit is due—Jaskier can spin a good tale. The bard reveled in it, even. Geralt hadn’t asked him, but he could tell from the man’s unrelenting enthusiasm that as much as Jaskier was a performer, not all of it was an act. There was an earnestness to him every time he sang. A genuine belief that what he was doing mattered.

Geralt takes another bite of the stew in front of him, his gaze not wavering as Jaskier finishes the song to enthusiastic applause. He grins, thanks the crowd graciously, and launches immediately into the next song. And still, Geralt watches.

The bard had discarded his blue doublet several songs ago, tossing it into the seat across from Geralt as he passed. Jaskier’s off white shirt is tucked into the blue pants that are several shades darker than his eyes, and those eyes are really what Geralt keeps finding his own gaze drawn to. Eyes that are vibrant with energy and life when they briefly meet Geralt’s across the room.

There’s a very unexpected, soft squeeze in Geralt’s chest.

The bard had always radiated light and joy on a level that Geralt privately thought outshone most other humans. Jaskier is a beacon—evidenced by the near-blinding grin that the bard throws to him before turning away—and Geralt feels the odd urge to shy away from it. As if that light might expose all the parts of him that he’d spent years hiding away.

But Jaskier is nothing if not relentlessly and stupidly persistent. And he seems—had always seemed—entirely unaware of how rare his own vibrancy truly is. It is an integral part of him that chooses again and again and again to share with others. And no matter how much they take from him, Jaskier seems to always have more he is willing to give.

It seems like a kind of selflessness to Geralt, and the tightness in his chest gives a sharp, aching clench.

IV.

Geralt and Jaskier end up at the same party completely by accident, really. The Witcher didn’t even know that the bard was in town; the last he’d heard of Jaskier’s recent exploits had him giving a guest lecture at Oxenfurt. Geralt had been passing through Temeria when he was approached and none-too-kindly asked to attend the king’s banquet. Geralt had almost turned the offer down—he didn’t like being seen as some novelty to be ogled at—but the promise of good food and decent drink didn’t sound horrendous, and besides. The king had demanded it, and Geralt really didn’t want to deal with the bloodshed that could’ve resulted from his refusal.

So he begrudgingly attended, and did his best to stick to the outskirts of the collection of boisterous ladies and lords that had amassed in the banquet hall. He’d seen Jaskier the moment the bard stepped into the room—sporting a golden doublet and a beaming grin—and Jaskier had seen him almost as quickly. There’d been a flicker of surprise, but then Jaskier was being asked to play a song to start things off, and he’d busied himself with performing.

The food is good, Geralt will grant that much, and the wine is some of the best that he’d consumed in a long time. He’s ribbed for a story or two by curious nobles, and Geralt tells them enough to pass for stiff politeness and little else. Jaskier had always been the one to fill in the details. Besides, Geralt finds that he doesn’t like telling them to the men who appear to only listen until they feel insecure in their own manhood.

Jaskier wasn’t like that, Geralt finds himself thinking. Jaskier listened for other reasons. Always attentive. Always… enthralled. Even when he was “stingy with the details”, as the bard often accused.

The party has stretched for hours when Jaskier finally takes a break and Geralt sees him starting to weave through the drunken crowd towards him. Geralt takes a long swallow of wine and arcs an eyebrow at the bard as he approaches. Jaskier smells of honeysuckle and sweat, his doublet open to reveal the light blue shirt underneath.

Jaskier’s eyes are bright, but there’s a slight crease between his brows. “How are you managing, Geralt?” he asks, with far more sincerity than Geralt is prepared for.

Geralt arcs a brow at him.

Jaskier just tilts his head, then gestures vaguely to the drunken dancing the attendees are doing. “It seemed a question worth asking, given tonight. It’s rather loud, even for me, and Temeria always overseasons their food in my opinion, not to mention the smells involved what with sweat and ale and food. I can’t imagine the assault it is on your… Witchery senses.”

Geralt stops, blinking at him. Jaskier was worried that he—a Witcher—was… overwhelmed? Geralt wonders if he should be insulted, but he isn’t. There’s an odd feeling in his gut, something warm that isn’t alcohol, that stirs at Jaskier’s explanation. Geralt doesn’t know what to say. He just stares at him.

Jaskier holds his hands up as if in surrender. “Forgive me for checking in on a friend.” He drops his hands, the tilt to his head returning and his gaze… softening somehow. “You’ll tell me, though, won’t you, Geralt? If it gets to be too much?”

Suddenly, that soft, concerned look in the bard’s eyes is too much. Geralt looks away and distracts himself by taking a swallow of wine. “Hm,” he agrees.

V.

Geralt hears Jaskier scream something that sounds almost like his name before he even feels the bite. The sharp jaws clench around his thigh and Geralt grits his teeth, swinging blindly with the silver sword. It makes contact with the basilisk enough to make it shriek and pull back. But it already released venom, and Geralt feels it pulse with a blinding pain.

His vision swims. His knees buckle, slamming into the stone floor of the cavern.

“Fuck.” The world tilts sideways as the rest of him falls.

A voice, high and panicked and oddly familiar, is yelling something distantly. Far away. Too far away to help him, really.

He has to get up. He has to. Geralt grinds his teeth and pushes against the ground with as much strength as he can manage. He gets his chest off the ground but his legs won’t cooperate and then suddenly someone is leaping over him and snatching the silver sword beside him.

“You want him? You’re gonna have to go through me, fucker.”

Jaskier?

Geralt watches in a haze as the bard lunges at the basilisk with the silver sword in his hands.

“Jaskier!” he shouts, because the bard is stupid and reckless and he is going to get killed.

But the bard doesn’t respond, and Geralt watches as the blade flashes in the dark cavern. The Witcher struggles to push himself up but now his arms won’t even support him and he’s going to die, but first the world is going to make him watch Jaskier die and that thought fills Geralt with a cold, desperate dread.

“Jaskier!”

There’s a sick squelching sound and when Geralt looks, he sees the bard is up against the creature with the hilt of his sword buried into the basilisk’s chest. It screeches and thrashes, and Geralt’s breath chokes in his throat. But Jaskier is nothing if not nimble, and he rolls to avoid the wings that whip around towards him. The screeching gets louder for a moment. The creature stumbles. Collapses.

There’s a sudden, echoing silence that is filled only with the sound of Jaskier’s labored breathing and, at least for Geralt, his pounding heartbeat.

“Jask—” Geralt rasps, wanting to ask if he’s injured but his voice cutting out with the sharp burst of pain as the venom seizes.

He’s going to die.

“Geralt.”

Jaskier is suddenly right above him. When did that happen?

Geralt feels Jaskier brush a hand back through his hair and cup his head. Something is getting pushed against his lips.

“Drink it, darling,” Jaskier murmurs, so softly that Geralt wonders—perhaps deliriously—if the bard is even aware that he’s just called Geralt darling, of all things.

When he looks back on this moment, Geralt will say that the venom coursing through his system made his thoughts hazy and his will pliable. That his weakened state is why the warmth in his chest happens even before the potion Jaskier is forcing to his lips reaches his mouth. It has nothing to do with that term Jaskier used.

Nothing at all.

VI.

It’s the soft gasp that really gets Geralt’s attention, causing him to halt Roach and glance at the bard beside him. They have maybe about two hours before sundown and had spent most of the day traveling along this road headed towards Kaedwen.  Jaskier had filled most of the long hours with aimless chatter and half-composed songs. Geralt half-listened, grateful for the familiarity of the lilt in the bard’s voice even if he wasn’t constantly tuned in to the precise words the bard happened to be rambling on about. He’d missed the way Jaskier filled the silence since their parting after the dragon hunt.

Then Jaskier’s musings had broken off with a sudden, sharp inhale.

“Oh, Geralt, look!” Jaskier breathes with surprising reverence. Geralt doesn’t have time to ask the bard what caught his attention before he’s rushing off into the field of wildflowers just ahead of them, nearly 70 yards away.

The Witcher goes to call out to him, but something makes the bard’s name die in his throat. He watches as Jaskier spreads his arms out as he rushes into the expanse of yellow and violet and blue. The sun sits low in the sky and frames him in a soft halo of light as he rushes delightedly through the flowers. Geralt’s chest warms slightly.

Jaskier looks over his shoulder at him then, like he can sense it, and offers Geralt a dazzlingly bright smile. He kneels then, in the middle of the field as if he’s about to meditate, and his fingers brushing softly against the petals of the flowers around him before he flops onto his back. Sinks into the flowers around him.

Geralt had never really known what it meant to love. He’d read once that most people learn of love from their parents when they’re children, but his own mother had abandoned him to become a Witcher—a process so few boys survived that, really, she might as well have abandoned him to die. Geralt refuses to believe that was what love was supposed to look like. Or how it was supposed to feel.

Earlier in his life, Geralt used to ask. He’d see couples who claimed to be in love, and he’d wonder what that meant. What did it feel like, because Geralt didn’t know. The answers others provided to him were either full of derision—what does it matter, Witcher? You’re not capable of it anyway—or too vague to be of any help—it’s just something you feel, I think.

Then he met Jaskier, who seemed to be brimming with love all the time it was a wonder the bard didn’t burst. He sang songs that talked of love in romantic, elaborate metaphors that Geralt understood at surface level, but that gave him a bit of a headache when he thought too long about them. Jaskier seemed to understand this concept of love so readily and intrinsically that it was, in truth, a little intimidating.

But when Jaskier sits up as Geralt approaches him—flower petals and grass clinging to his hair, his blue eyes sparkling in the near-setting sun, a warm and content smile gracing his lips—the thought whispers unassuming in Geralt’s mind.

Maybe, just maybe, this is what love feels like.  

VII.

“You, Princess, are beginning to take after Geralt with the amount of brooding you’ve been doing today,” Jaskier chimes lightly, but Geralt looks up and sees the crease of concern between his brows. “And that will simply not do, because I can’t very well be surrounded by brooding, angst-ridden individuals, now can I?”

Geralt glances over at Yennefer, who merely arcs an unimpressed eyebrow at the bard. The cottage Yennefer had recently taken up residence in was small and unassuming on the outside. It seemed larger on the inside, more spacious, and Geralt knew it to be the work of an enchantment set on by the sorceress. Ever since Sodden, Yennefer had needed to be careful in her own right about avoiding and evading the ever-growing presence of Nilfgaard. She moved every few months, but had taken Ciri under her wing the past few weeks to teach her control her “chaos”, as she’d called it. Geralt called it magic.

They’d been dropping by to check in before moving on, and Jaskier’s comment wasn’t off the mark. Geralt had noticed it as well.

There were days when Ciri’s quietness rivaled the Witcher’s own. Where the Lion Cub of Cintra seemed saddled with a weight too heavy for a girl of her age. On those days, Geralt thinks he understands more than most would—the dullness in her icy blue eyes is brought on by the fog of grief of losing everyone she loved in a night and watching her city burn as she fled. It reminds the Witcher of how he’d felt following sacking of Kaer Morhen.

But just because Geralt understands doesn’t mean he’s known what to do on those days. He hates it. Hates that he doesn’t know how to help her, because nobody had been there to help him.

Ciri glances up at Jaskier from where she sits beside Geralt. “I just… miss home, Jaskier. That’s all.”

Jaskier’s lips press together in thought, his head tilting slightly. Geralt watches as something brightens in his eyes before he says, “Well, I have just the thing for that.” He glances over. “Yennefer?”

The sorceress looks as surprised as Geralt feels, but Jaskier just quirks a brow at her and Yen smiles faintly before inclining her head. Geralt doesn’t have a clue what silent request the bard has made, but he starts strumming a familiar song on the lute in his hands for several seconds—it’s upbeat, and though Geralt can’t place the title of it, he knows he recognizes it as one of Jaskier’s jigs. A few seconds go by, and then Jaskier’s fingers stop plucking at the strings but the music continues to fill the space.

Jaskier grins, and when Geralt glances at Yennefer, he sees that she’s got a faint smile as well.

The bard sets the lute aside and jumps gracefully to his feet. He extends a hand out to Ciri, his smile soft and sincere. “Will you dance with me, princess?”

Ciri hesitates for only a moment before she takes Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier’s grin brightens, and the two of them fall into a dance that Geralt recognizes as one usually done at court amidst nobility. It doesn’t surprise Geralt that Jaskier knows the dances of court—he has to play them often enough so it makes sense to Geralt that he would also know the steps—but a part of him is surprised when he hears Ciri laughing.

As she and Jaskier spin in circles and the bard adds an extra flourish to one of his steps, Ciri smiles and laughs and something in Geralt’s chest gives a sharp squeeze. Jaskier grins back at her, looking as relieved and content at the spark of mirth in her eyes as Geralt feels, and the Witcher feels a very slight, and unexpected lump in his throat.

VIII.

“Geralt?”

“Hm.”

“Will you let me try something?”

The question is asked surprisingly quietly in the dark forest around them, barely louder than the crackling fire between them. Geralt doesn’t know why Jaskier would be speaking so quietly, but a part of him counts it as a small mercy. Because the pressure behind his eyes that had started this morning had steadily grown to a dull throb up through the top of Geralt’s skull by mid-morning. By late afternoon, the headache wasn’t quite so dull anymore.

Geralt hadn’t seen a need to say anything about it, though. He just rode on Roach and tried to not squint too much against the blinding sunlight that made his head spike. Jaskier had seemed to lose steam in conversation as Geralt was even more unwilling to engage with him than normal. He hoped the bard wasn’t too offended, as by the early evening, it was really all Geralt could do to stay upright on Roach and keep moving forward.

“A new song?” Geralt muses, and carefully manages to keep the internal wince off his face.

Jaskier huffs something that’s almost a laugh. “No. Just… here.” He turns to the bag beside him and rummages through it. Geralt watches in the dim light of the fire as the bard pulls out a small cloth and a vial. He dampens the cloth with part of the contents, then pushes himself to his feet and crosses over. He kneels beside him.

There’s something soft in his eyes, Geralt thinks. Or maybe it’s just the way his face is shadowed that makes his eyes look bigger than normal. “Close your eyes, Geralt.”

And Geralt does. He tries to tell himself it’s because even the firelight is too much with this pounding in his head, but he knows it’s not just that. It’s such a simple, easy request and it’s Jaskier that makes it. So Geralt lets his eyes fall shut.

He feels Jaskier drape the cloth over his face. “Breathe in for me.”

He does. It’s lavender oil, he realizes. The scent is faint, diluted—careful to not be too overpowering, even given his enhanced sense of smell—but it blocks out most other scents around him. Geralt feels part of his jaw untense just a fraction.

“That’s it. Keep breathing.”

He feels Jaskier’s hands brush against his temples, then a slight nudge and some shifting and suddenly, Geralt is being guided to rest his head against something softer than the log it had been on a moment ago. Jaskier’s lap. Through the lavender, this close, Geralt can smell the faint honeysuckle traces that seemed to cling to the bard.

“Let me help,” Jaskier whispers in the dark, and then his fingers are moving deftly against Geralt’s temple, gradually up through his scalp, encouraging Geralt to breathe.

Through the ease of his muscles and the lightening of the tension in his head, Geralt becomes aware that somehow, Jaskier had known exactly what was wrong. Geralt is sure he hadn’t said anything about it, and a headache is hardly a life-or-death situation. But Jaskier knew and, more than that…

Let me help.  

The Witcher feels a little dizzy all of a sudden and so abruptly vulnerable that it scares him a little bit. It sends a jolt of something sharp and electric up through his core but Geralt swallows down the urge to pull away because… it’s nice. This softness, this gentleness that Geralt does not and has never deserved is offered so willingly, and Geralt cannot bring himself to pull away.

Instead, he breathes and listened to Jaskier’s fluttering heartbeat.

IX.

Geralt feels the drops hit the top of his head seconds before the rain begins a steady sprinkle. Geralt isn’t shocked, exactly. The sky had been a flat overcast since this morning, and he could smell the promise of rain clinging in the air as he and Jaskier had gathered herbs about a mile outside of the village they were staying for the time being.

But then the sprinkle turns to a downpour. “Fuck,” Geralt sighs under his breath.

He glances over at the bard beside him, who a moment ago had been rambling about his recent lecture at Oxenfurt regarding the role of narrative music in shaping cultural perspective. Geralt had a feeling that the bard had, in fact, just delivered the exact speech to the Witcher, but he hadn’t minded. Not when Jaskier’s voice carried that familiar, melodic lilt that underscored his excitement and passion on the subject.

There’s a teasing mirth in Jaskier’s bright blue eyes that eases into something softer. Geralt doesn’t know why. For a moment, it looks like the bard—for once—is lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t speak aloud. It’s… unusual.

Geralt opens his mouth to ask him or tease him—he’s honestly not sure which is about to pass from his lips—when Jaskier cuts him off.

“And you thought the lute case was a poor investment. Well, how do you feel now, Geralt?” Jaskier sets his hand on the strap across his chest, almost protectively. “We still have a mile to go before shelter, and such time for a lute to spend in rain like this…” He shakes his head, his dark hair dripping rainwater onto his nose. “It would be nothing short of an absolute, irrevocable tragedy.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies, because perhaps the bard has a point. A raindrop unceremoniously drips into Geralt’s eye and he blinks, then shoots a glare up at the sky.

“Not a fan of the rain?” Jaskier asks.

The truth is, Geralt isn’t a fan of the rain. Not really. It makes it harder to see, and it clings to his lashes in a way that makes his already sensitive eyes sting a bit. Which isn’t anything he can’t handle—he’s done it hundreds of times before, he’ll do it hundreds of times yet to come—but the rain would also wash away most of the tracks he’d been hoping to follow later this evening to the kikimora that was terrorizing the town.

“It will make it harder to track—what are you doing?” Geralt cuts himself off when he looks back at the bard, who is half-way to shedding his violet doublet. Jaskier finishes pulling out of it. His dark blue shirt underneath is immediately drenched.

Unfazed, Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You left your cloak back at the inn and I know, though you will adamantly deny it, that the real reason you hate the rain is because it gets into your eyes and makes it harder for your sensitive, Witchery eyes to see. So, here.” He holds the garment out, his gaze looking down the road ahead of them.

Geralt stares at it. This was… ridiculous. Jaskier was sacrificing his own comfort so that Geralt could… what, block some of the rain a bit easier? Not only did Jaskier gain nothing from this but he actively lost something in the name of Geralt’s comfort and… the Witcher doesn’t know what to do with that. It was such a small, simple gesture but there’s a weight to it that Geralt cannot ignore.

Something heavy, warm, soft sits in his stomach as he stares at it.

“Jaskier…”

“Honestly, Geralt, you’ll be doing me a favor. Wet doublets are dreadfully heavy, and as I am already saddled with carrying the weight of this lute and your reputation…” Jaskier glances back then and offers a smile.

It’s a flimsy attempt to make Geralt feel better about accepting Jaskier’s simple selflessness. A part of Geralt wants to refuse. But when Jaskier is smiling at him like that, offering such a small piece of him that doesn’t feel that small to Geralt… well. Geralt finds himself taking the doublet from his hands gently.

And if Jaskier spins away to welcome the rainfall as Geralt holds the doublet above his head to shield the rain, well. Maybe that heavy, warm, soft feeling spreads through him in a way that makes the rain feel not quite so cold and annoying.

X.

Geralt hears it first. There’s the sound of something snapping with a flash of green light behind him and it’s all less than a second but Geralt still feels that he should have been faster.

Because he looks over his shoulder, sees Jaskier hit the ground with the sound breaking bones echoing in his ears.

Jaskier screams.

“JASKIER!” Geralt roars, but panic closes his throat in the next moment. He slashes viciously at the figure in front of him, and the head of the injured soldier in front of him rolls off his shoulders. Geralt growls low in his throat—Jaskier is silent and Geralt is shaking—and hurls the knife at his belt towards the mage almost blindly.

It sinks between her eyes. The sting of copper in the air barely registers to the Witcher because all he can focus on—all he can smell—is the acrid, sharp scent of pain that radiates from Jaskier on the forest floor, several feet away. Geralt’s eyes snap to him before the mage has even hit the ground and he sees the way Jaskier is trembling so hard he’s vibrating but at least he’s moving. At least he’s breathing.

Geralt makes sure the mage isn’t, and then he’s sprinting the short distance to Jaskier and sliding to him on his knees. Jaskier is on his side, his back to the Witcher. As gently as he can, Geralt places a hand on his shoulder and rolls the bard onto his back.

Jaskier whimpers, his face ashen, and the sound turns Geralt’s stomach. The bard’s eyes clench shut.

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s slow-beating heart is hammering so loud and so hard he wonders if the bard can hear it. This close, the scent of Jaskier’s pain is so pungent and potent that it clogs Geralt’s throat. He dove in front of a spell for you, a voice hisses in Geralt’s mind. That pain should be yours.

“Fuck,” Jaskier manages to wheeze out weakly.

“What the fuck were you thinking, you goddamn idiot?” Geralt grits out, and his voice very nearly breaks. It’s the wrong thing to say—Geralt always says the wrong things. Always, always, always. And always when he’s afraid. But it’s the only ones of the words he can think to say that will push past his tight throat.

“My dear Witcher,” Jaskier replies, his own voice strained but for a different reason, “you’re quite lucky I love you, or else I might be insulted.”

The words echo in Geralt’s mind. I love you, I love you, I love you. Over and over and over. They ring with an ease and sincerity, because Jaskier never did anything by halves, even when he may be dying. Dying. And Geralt feels something breaking inside of him.

And still, the words repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you—Until the words sound less like Jaskier and a lot more like his mind repeating it back to the bard.

“Jask,” he whispers, his throat too tight to even get the bard’s full name out. His hands are shaking a bit, but he thinks Jaskier won’t mind, and he brushes his hand against Jaskier’s face. “You can’t—you…” He can’t just… just say things like that, so boldly, so cavalier.

With a courage that Geralt cannot match.

“Fuck,” he says instead. Because the words that flood him cannot find their way through his chest to his lips.

His swirling thoughts cut out as he sees Jaskier try suddenly to push himself up. Mindful of the damage to the human’s ribcage, Geralt lets the hand on his face slip to the back of the bard’s neck and grabs his less-injured arm to ease him up. Then Geralt just holds on tight. An irrational part of Geralt thinks that if he lets go, Jaskier might really slip from him in a way that Geralt cannot fix.

The Witcher breathes in, and the sharp scent of Jaskier’s pain is starting to lift. Jaskier offers a faint smile. “Not a lethal spell, it would seem.”

A distant part of Geralt goes a little weak with relief. The rest of him wants to shake the bard. “You didn’t know that,” he snaps. Because Jaskier didn’t, he’d just decided to dive in front of a spell that could have been anything. He could have… he almost…

“A moot point, really, Geralt.”

And that… that hurts, in a different kind of way. There’s no regret in Jaskier voice or his scent or his eyes. He would do it again, Geralt knows this, and it terrifies him. Jaskier would risk himself for Geralt.

Geralt shakes his head a little and starts to reply, to ask why, but the breath he takes still has that haze of acridity to it. He frowns instead. “You’re still hurt,” he says. It’s not a question.

Jaskier then has the audacity to wave a dismissive hand. “Some broken ribs.”

“Hm.” He could help with those, he thinks. His gaze flickers over Jaskier’s chest. He knows how to help with those injuries. The spell wasn’t lethal. Geralt should be feeling relieved and a small part of him is. The rest of him feels like the ground has shifted beneath him and Geralt still doesn’t know how to hold himself steady. I love you, Jaskier’s voice echoes in his mind, but it only makes Geralt feel a little more cracked open. Because maybe Jaskier didn’t mean it. Maybe it was just something he said in the throes of dying--

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, so unbearably soft. He instinctively meets the bard’s gaze. Jaskier’s bright blue eyes are remarkably steady. “I meant it, you know. I do. Love you, I mean.”

Geralt’s breath hitches in his throat. Because here was this remarkably fragile person who had followed him across the Continent for years, had seen the absolute worst that Geralt had to offer… this person who radiated warmth and light and love, so much love, and was everything Geralt wasn’t, and was saying these words so easily. Geralt’s fear had come true—Jaskier’s light had seen the darkest parts of him, but Jaskier chose to love him anyway.

“Jaskier,” he manages, and his own voice has never sounded quite so weak to his own ears. He leans forward until his forehead is against Jaskier because Jaskier was that beacon of light calling to him. Grounding him. “I… fuck.” He can’t find the words again. “Fuck.”

He does the only thing he can think to do in this moment, to try to convey all the words he can’t find. He brushes his lips against Jaskier’s, softly. Afraid to demand or hurt, afraid, afraid, afraid. So he presses his dry, cracked lips against Jaskier’s impossibly soft ones. Questions he dare not ask taste like salt that he passes to Jaskier’s own, and Jaskier answers with silent promises and a breathless little huff of contentment.

Jaskier is more than a beacon. He is a lighthouse, calling Geralt home. And Geralt cannot help but feel that he’d follow that light to the ends of the world.

[andy-the-8th]

Things Green and Growing

Part 9 of Creatures That Defy Logic

Read on AO3

Sam's last day at the greenhouses for the summer and seeing her sister off back to college.

cw: homophobic language

A/N: I just really like the idea of Sam and Jess being biology bros

Also we meet Sam's dad. He's an asshole.

The rushing fans and cool mist of the greenhouse definitely made the late August heat more bearable - no matter how much you might love your job, there's only so much summer sun you (or your plants) could take without some assistance.

"Am I doing this right?"

Jess looked up at Sam from the other side of a table of junipers, a spiky carpet of green across the long low table, contrasting the spotty gray of the wet concrete greenhouse floor. He'd come by the greenhouse a few times over the summer - even though he didn't work there, he insisted he help with something if he was going to hang out. Sam had eventually agreed to let him take care of some of the more innocuous tasks.

Pruning clippers in hand, Jess had been tasked with cutting back the overgrown shoots from the Japanese star junipers - the small conifers were popular for their hardiness as a ground cover, especially as a more durable and eco-friendly replacement for grass. This meant though that their lower branches would snake over the edges of the black plastic pots they were growing in, running sideways in every direction, getting tangled in each other, burning and drying out foliage.

Sam walked over to inspect his handiwork. Actually not too bad.

"Yeah, they look fine."

"Awesome. Thanks for letting me prune something, feels more important than moving things around from table to table" Jess said cheerfully.

"No problem" Sam had come to genuinely enjoy spending time with Jess, and not just as a confidant. Sure, he never got any less excessively enthusiastic, would still frequently go off on tangents of facts and theories, but she'd gotten used to his pattern of speaking. He'd clearly been scared of being annoying the first time he'd visited, and pretty much stayed quiet the few times he'd met Jackie or Jen. Trying to be a bit more normal around new people.

So in a way, she was glad he was comfortable being himself around her now.

Sam went back to the table of peace lilies: graceful, broad glossy dark green leaves with their delicate white alien blooms on long stalks above the thick cluster of greenery at the base. Like the junipers - like most potted plants packed together for commercial purposes - the lower levels were at risk of suffocation, for both light and air, and had to be clipped off before they turned yellow and started to attract mold.

They kept working in silence for a long while, the only sound in the greenhouse the gentle rush of the fans, the occasional hiss of the misting system, the soft clicks of the pruning clippers punctuating at either end of the space.

"So school starts back up in a week."

Sam caught that that was both a perfectly normal observation and a veiled question about what they'd both been thinking since August started. Cody was supposed to be back soon.

"Do you think he'll come back at night? So no one sees him transform back?"

"I don't know, probably." Of course Sam still missed her boyfriend, but it had also been good to spend the summer focusing on her own interests, her own friends, away from swimming and social drama. But she knew she looked forward to seeing him.

Still, it would be a lie to say she wasn't more than a little apprehensive as well.

Like, he literally wasn't human. A lot had probably changed from spending some time as a full-time merman. And what sort of sea creatures were they anyway? Were merpeople more like whales, pelagic, solitary, mostly sticking to the vast fathoms of the open oceans? Living alone or in two or three individuals? Or were they more like dolphins, staying in the shallows in big social pods? Was it like in the movies, secret underwater cities of merpeople with their own cultures, music, governments?

It wasn't too unrealistic to imagine that any of those might significantly change someone's demeanor or even personality. She still got hung up on the whole telepathy thing as well - if Cody came back able to read minds, that might just be too weird of a thing to deal with on top of starting high school.

Jess didn't seem to see any of those questions as anxieties, of course. Quite the opposite. To be fair, he wasn't the one dating him either.

"Gosh, I wonder what it all was like." His voice that that airy sort of awe he'd had back when Cody was still going through the transformations. They actually hadn't really talked about him much over the summer, which Sam had found a little surprising - Jess seemed equally excited to just talk with her, especially with their shared interests in biology. He'd listened attentively when Sam wanted to talk over her mom's work with environmental regulations, or projects she was taking on with the envi-sci club at school next year, or balancing swimming with her other extracurriculars.

"Guess we'll find out." Sam carefully kept any apprehension out of her voice. She did want to know about it, as much as Cody wanted to tell her - but she also wanted to keep their first year of high school as normal as possible after junior high's supernatural finale.

"Yeah. I think I've gotten all the shoots on the junipers."

"Alright, thanks Jess. I'm finishing up here, then will have to be getting home. Jackie's leaving for college again tonight, and I think my dad will be coming to see her off as well."

Sam bit her lip at that. She didn't like having to talk about her father. It wasn't like having divorced parents was abnormal - she guessed that was the case for Jess as well, since he never talked about his mom - but she still didn't like having to bring up her father in more detail than necessary.

"Oh, OK. D'you want me to stick around and help clean up?"

"Nah it'll be fine. Ms. Brantwood should be coming by soon anyway, before I lock up."

"Alright." Jess walked over to the open greenhouse door, where he'd leaned his bike against the frame. He paused for a moment, wiping his glasses with the hem of his shirt where they'd fogged up from the quick temperature and humidity shift, squinting in the sun.

Sam had turned back to the peace lilies, arranging them with proper spacing on the low table, fishing the spray bottle where it had disappeared in the thick stand of leaves, pots, and dirt.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" she turned her head over her shoulder to where he was still just outside the door, helmet strapped on, hands on the bike ready to go.

"Can you call me if you hear first when he comes back?"

Sam smiled and exhaled out her nose, relaxed her shoulders. "Of course. You too, OK? You're a lot closer to the water than me."

"Oh definitely." Jess balanced to one side on the bike, ready to kick off. "See'ya!"

"See'ya later Jess."

She heard him head off, wheels crunching over the gravel down to the sidewalk, saw him blurred through the glass walls, disappear as he went around the front of the building.

Grabbing the spray bottle and the clippers, she walked them down to the worn wooden cabinets and coat rack built into the wall next to the greenhouse office, hung her gloves on the hook. She took the broom back over to the peace lily table, made sure she hadn't missed any stray leaves or sprinkles of soil on the wet concrete floor. The bell on the door of the office jingled once as it opened and closed - Ms. Brantwood, the owner, came out then, clipboard in one hand, glasses perched on the end of her nose. Ms. Brantwood always looked like some hybrid of a farmer and a librarian, flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, workboots, her gray hair in a tight bun, glasses held on a colorful beaded strap around her neck.

"Ms. Brathwaite," she said congenially. "Here you go." She handed Sam an envelope.

"Thanks Ms. B." Her paycheck from the summer, headed straight for her college savings once she got home.

"Thanks for all the help this summer! The peace lilies never looked better." She smiled approvingly over at the displays where Sam had spent most of the afternoon. "We'd be happy to have you back again."

"That'd be great! Thank you again for having me" Sam tucked the envelope in her canvass bag, slung it over her shoulder, and started to the door.

"Good luck with high school - it's scary at first but you'll do great."

Sam smiled again and backed out the open door, closing it behind her, the screen making a quick whoosh sound before the door clacked on the wood frame. She shifted her bag on her shoulders and started down the sidewalk for home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"If you really have that much of a problem with it, you can just leave."

Lindsey crossed her arms and leaned back on her kitchen counter, staring down her ex-husband, who was at the bottom of the stairs next to the front door, one hand on the newel post, head hanging down in frustration.

"I don't have a problem, I have an opinion. Goddamnit, do you have to make everything into one of your crusades?"

"I don't have crusades, Steve, I have morals. It's none of your business how she looks, Jackie is a grown woman."

"Staying in a house that I pay to keep you in."

"Don't bullshit me like that. You known damn well I supported us. The house was only ever in my name, for fucks sake. Your child support checks aren't anything we rely on."

"Trust me, they wouldn't exist if the court didn't say so."

Steve glared back at her, the silence tense. Lindsey huffed and went back to packing granola bars and sandwiches in the lunchboxes on the table - snacks to send with Jackie for the car ride to the airport.

"You shouldn't have let her go to that school either."

"She got a full scholarship" Lindsey snapped. She was rapidly reaching the end of her rope with this conversation and was just about ready to throw Steve out of her house if he continued like he was. He was the father of her kids, he technically had visitation rights - but she wouldn't have him talk like this in their house. Thank God Jackie was outside, and Sam still at work.

"Yeah, well, maybe if she'd gone to a state university instead of some liberal arts bullshit, she wouldn't be dressing like some fucking dyke now."

That was it - he was through.

"Get out. Now."

She threw every bit of venom she could into the final word, her gaze ice cold, her knuckles white gripping the edge of the kitchen counter.

Steve sneered cruelly at her as he shifted to  go and roughly put his hand on the door knob. "Wonder where she got that from."

He opened the door quickly to find Sam on the doorstep, her face surprised and pale. Steve stopped, also startled for a moment. He didn't know how much she'd heard - he didn't care. She was grown up enough to start knowing about the real world unfiltered, as far as he was concerned.

"Hey, Dad," she offered shakily, awkwardly. He just looked down at her coldly.

"Good luck in school next year." He turned back for one last glare at Lindsey, then pushed past Sam down the front steps, to his car in the driveway, leaving the front door open. He slammed the car door as he got in, backed down past Lindsey's car into the cul-de-sac where Jackie was standing next to Vanessa's old Jeep, and sped off around the corner, tires spinning harsh squeals, out of the neighborhood.

Jackie and Vanessa quickly looked over at Sam, clearly worried. Jackie walked up across the small front yard, making herself smile sarcastically, trying to conjure humor for her sister who still was frozen and scared-looking on the doorstep.

"Another grand finale and exit from the father of the year, ladies and ladies!" she announced dramatically.  Sam smiled a little at that - Jackie's features relaxed in relief. Vanessa stayed by the Jeep, eyes closed and looking down, fingers pressed to her temples, shaking her head in exasperation.

"Hey, Sam." Jackie looked hard at her, serious. "Don't listen to anything he says. He's an asshole. Got it?"

"Yeah Jackie. Got it." Sam went inside and put her bag down on the floor next to the kitchen table, where Lindsey was aggressively zipping up the lunch boxes. She might have chided Jackie for using that kind of language in front of her, in less charged circumstances.

"I just have one more box upstairs, 'kay Mom?"

"Alright, don't keep Vanessa waiting out there too long though. I'm set to go when you are."

Sam bit her lip and looked down at the wood grain in the kitchen table, at the lines in the linoleum floor. "Mom, I'm going to put my stuff upstairs too, I'll be down to see them off."

Sam quickly took the stairs, two at a time. She tossed her bag on her bed, closed the door, and turned down the hall to Jackie's room.

She was standing at her bureau, small cardboard box in hand, quickly putting her many rings, chokers, and bracelets in, her back to the door. She turned her head, hearing Sam step into the door frame.

"What's up?"

"Jackie, I- something Dad said -"

"Hey, what'd I tell you? Ignore him. He doesn't know shit." Jackie huffed and went back to gathering things off the top of the bureau.

"Yeah I know." Sam looked down, nervous. "But what he said about how you looked, like a...a.."

"A dyke?"

".......yeah."

To Sam's surprise Jackie actually laughed a little, put her last few bits of jewelry in the box, shoved it into her black backpack, covered in pins and patches. She crossed the room and put her hands on her sister's shoulders. She breathed in, and Sam looked up at her a little.

"Listen to me again now. We are strong, modern women. We can look how we want. We can be how we want. It's a new millennium, we can't stay stuck in that patriarchal bullshit forever."

Jackie definitely looked how she wanted - hair spiked up today, black nailpolish, Bikini Kill shirt with cut off sleeves over her black jeans.

"So, does that mean...?"

Jackie smiled and rolled her eyes. "Actually, no. I'm straight, I'm just goth and like to piss off old men." She paused, serious again. "But there'd be nothing wrong with that if I were, Sam. If anyone were."

"Um, oh. Yeah, OK, I jus-"

Jackie's eyes flicked up, past Sam's face and cutting her off, looking past her face to the doorway. Lindsey was standing there, arms folded, lips pursed, her eyes nervous.

She and Jackie held eye contact for a noticeable moment - Sam turned her head to look at her mom as well. Lindsey's eyes calmed and softened almost too quickly to notice.

"You guys about ready to head out?"

"Yeah Mom, we're done." Jackie walked back over and hauled her backpack up onto one shoulder, the buttons rattling into each other with the motion. Sam turned back and walked past her mom, leading the way down the stairs and out the front door. She paused on the doorstep to let them pass. Jackie hoisted her backpack straighter and stopped in front of Sam on the doorstep.

"You know you can always call me if you want. High school can suck sometimes, if you want to talk to someone who already did it you know where to find me."

"Hey, I was in high school once too" Lindsey added, smiling a bit, trying to lighten the mood as well. Jackie rolled her eyes dramatically.

"'kay, how about if you want to talk to someone who did high school within the last hundred years, THEN call me."

Jackie hugged Sam tight, and walked across the grass to where Vanessa was waiting by the car. Vanessa and Jackie both went to college in Philadelphia - Vanessa at Temple University, Jackie at Haverford College. They were on the same flight over - Vanessa's mom was an airline pilot, so would drive the Jeep back home from the airport after they'd left.

Lindsey followed her down to the side of the car, stopping on the curb, arms crossed over her chest. The air had cooled significantly as the sun went down, almost chilly in contrast to the day's heat.

"Call me when you get in, OK?"

"Yeah of course, same as always." Lindsey hugged Jackie and Vanessa, stepped back from the Jeep as they pulled away with the windows down. Jackie turned up the radio, the energetic chugging guitar and drums filling the summer night, bouncing off the houses around the cul-de-sac.

"WOOOOOOOO!!" as Vanessa steered them away from the sidewalk, Jackie looked back with a wild excited smile, hands up in the rock gesture.

"DRIVE SAFE GIRLS" Lindsey called over the loud music, waving as they turned the corner and out of the development, the music fading as they left.

Lindsey stayed looking down the road for a few moments after the Jeep was gone - from where she was leaning against the front door, Sam saw her mom's eyes were a bit wet. Lindsey walked back up the yard and into the house, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Sorry, sorry, just you girls are growing up so fast." She smiled then as they both walked back inside. As she closed the door behind them, she un-did and re-did her bun, pushing back the loose red strands from the day, refreshing, restoring order.

Following their routine pattern, Sam walked to the kitchen, got two glasses of water, handed one to her mom as they both settled at the table.

Lindsey took the glass, gently clinked it against Sam's. "Hydrate or die!" she said cheerfully, familiarly as part of their home-from-work/inside joke ritual they'd organically developed over the summer, with Sam getting back from the greenhouses the same time Lindsey got back from the offices.

"Hydrate or die." Sam replied, smiling. They both sipped their water silently, decompressing from the day, from Steve, from Jackie's departure.

"You got everything you need for next week?"

"Yeah, I'm set on everything. I got paid from Brantwood today too."

"Oh good, I'm going by the bank tomorrow morning, I can deposit it for you."

"Thanks Mom."

Eventually Lindsey got leftovers from the fridge to heat up - dinner passed at a welcomely-uneventful rate, just chatting about work from the day, errands to run. They finished the dishes and Sam filled up one of the watering cans on the counter to bring upstairs to her plants. She'd put the succulents on a nightly watering schedule, better to accommodate the extra heat this time of year without extra evaporation.

"Goodnight Mom."

Lindsey looked up from the reports she had absentmindedly been paging through after finishing the dishes - environmental justice never sleeps. "Night hon. You OK?" Her voice was gentle, but firm enough that she indicated that she was leaving it open if Sam wanted to talk about any of the commotion from earlier.

Maybe not tonight.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Goodnight." Sam was up the stairs and out of sight.

Lindsey closed the folder on the table, shuffled it back into the small pile she'd pulled from her briefcase. She leaned forward, hands on her forehead, taking long, soothing breaths with her eyes closed. She stayed like that a while, listening to Sam moving about above - back and forth around her room with the watering can, down the hall to the bathroom and back, waiting til she heard her door click shut for the night. She got up, quietly pushed her chair back under the table. She filled her glass at the sink, downing it in one draft, slowly and smoothly, letting the coolness spread through her whole body.  Hydrate or die.

Filing folders back into her briefcase could wait til morning. It had been a long day.

END NOTES:

I imagined the song Jackie and Vanessa are listening to is Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill

Tune in next time for more of "which of Sam's supporting cast is going to be a lesbian"

Jackie and Lindsey continue to be fun and interesting to write - maybe future spinoffs? Does it still count as fanfiction when the original characters get spinoffs?

[burning-clutch]

Crashing Like A Tidal Wave With Cardiac Arrest: Part 1

Read on Ao3: here (Chapter 1 of 2) Pairings: Jack/Maddie Trigger Warnings: Blood and gore, Major character death Author: @burning-clutch (Team Ghost) Total words: 4711 prompt by:  Anthropwashere / Anthrop  AO3 and FFN: Anthrop

-.-.-.- **Important** There is a bit of excessive gore in here I wanted to try my hand at writing but I marked it between xXxX lines. it's not a lot just an over detailed depiction of the scene, but if you need to skip it, it will not change how the story is perceived, and you can continue on with out worry. -.-.-.-.-

The day was routine, or at least it started out that way…

Danny had woken up late for school having spent the night prior fighting endless rounds of Ectopuss, giant rats, a pack of wolves, a bear ghost, the Box Ghost, Skulker, some weird rabbit gorilla cross…. All in all nothing too terrible… Just relentlessly endless and annoying, eating into his sleep and making him generally miserable the next day.

Danny had gotten to the school in record time, not that it mattered really, he was already late and the added five minutes it took didn’t make any difference in Lancer’s eyes. He was sorely tempted to skip his first period altogether but didn’t really want to risk the phone call home to his parents.

He was a big enough disappointment to them as it was right now, and the last thing he needed or wanted to be the hollow sight from his parents as they looked on to him hopelessly.

“I really wish you would take this more seriously hun,” his mother would say

“I know these are your best years son, but the school’s important! Fenton’s are smart and you got a legacy to uphold!” his father would continue.

It was the same thing almost every time he screwed up, followed by his sensitive ears picking up his parents' hushed conversations mainly consisting of. “I don’t know what we’re going to do for him… nothing helps…”

He sighed as he landed in the janitor’s closet and transformed back to human. He shouldn’t worry about this now. Jazz and him were making preparations to be able to tell his parents the truth, and hopefully, that will allow him to smooth over most of the issues with his parents. He was concerned that he may have some loss of freedom though.

Or at least Jazz had warned him that may be the case. At the very least he could expect enforced ghost fighting curfews with a ghost shield around the house that a halfa can’t get out of.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts and moved to exit the closet swiftly making his way to class. “Ah, how nice of you to join us, Mr. Fenton,” Lancer said, hardly even sparing the teen a glance as he continued to write on the board.

Danny offered the teacher a sheepish smile that seemed to go unnoticed by the middle aged man, and hurried to his seat, throwing himself into his chair as silently as he could. It only occurred to him once he was in his seat that Lancer hadn’t bothered to issue him a detention.

Strangely that thought twisted in his gut painfully. Was he so bad off that even Lancer deemed him a lost cause now? He sighed deeply and just tried to push those self depreciative thoughts out of his mind, and decided instead that he should count his blessings that he could head home directly after school for a change.

Regardless he still opted to tune out the rest of the lecture as the day dragged on, Mr. Lancer did not make The Grapes of Wrath sound interesting at all and his opinion.

His friends beside him took in his tired visage and offered him a pitying look. The bags under his eyes made it clear that he was in need of sleep.

“What kept you up last night dude?” Tucker asked him with a quiet whisper.

“Box ghost and a whole bunch of animal ghosts all teaming up to make my night an endless hell…” Danny responded equally as quiet with an exasperated sigh.

“You should have called us man we would have been able to help you” Tucker whispered back eyeing his friend with a critical glance.

“You know we're always ready and willing to share the burden, you don't have to do this all yourself, as much as you think it's your ‘duty’ to,” Sam added from his other side.

“I know but it's not right for me to drag you guys into this. What if you guys get hurt? I'd never forgive myself!” Danny whispered back, with a slight huff, though a slight glow overtook his eyes. betraying his truest feelings.

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance around him knowingly, it was pointless to try and argue with him when he gets like this. Even Jazz with all of her endless patience for psychoanalyzing him eventually gave up trying to understand the motivations behind his weird compulsions and all the faults and quirks that came along with having a Ghostly obsession to boot.

Danny lets out a long yawn. Man, was he tired. Maybe he could just rest his head on the desk for a moment, Lancer probably wouldn't notice right? No sooner was his head down were his eyes sliding closed from his exhaustion, unconsciousness taking him quickly.

From Danny’s perspective, he blinked and then was suddenly being poked by Tucker. Danny raised his head and took in his friend’s deep frown. “Bell rang, dude.”

Right good… “Yeah,” he yawned widely. Earning a sympathetic look from his friends and a flat exasperated sigh from the teacher.

Danny did his best to ignore the look as he stood and gathered his things to leave. He was just passing the classroom’s threshold when his ghost scene went off, fogging up around his vision and dissipating off into the air. He groaned.

“If it’s Boxy, I’m just going to lock him in the thermos and keep him there until the Christmas truce,” Danny growled.

“You want one of us to take care of him then?” Sam asked as Danny handed off his backpack to her.

“No, I should do it... “ He sighed. “I’m the one that everyone expects to be late anyway.”

“Still dude, you don’t-” Tucker started only to snap his jaws shut when Danny waved a flippant hand at him.

“No, it’s fine just tell the teacher I had a bowel problem or something. I’ll be back.” Danny said, already turning to leave and head for a closet or the bathroom to transform in. This was so second nature for him now, he had to wonder what he would ever be able to actually accomplish in school if he had the time to dedicate to actually sitting still for more than an hour and actually having time to learn things.

One flash of light later and Phantom was in the air following his ghost sense to the roof of the school. No sooner did he fully emerge above the building did he get blasted from behind. Danny rounded on the enemy expecting Skulker again but was surprised when he saw one of Vlad’s vultures panting from the exertion of its attack.

Instantly on high alert now, and looking for the elder half ghost himself, Danny fired an icy blast at the annoying bird's wings taking advantage of it’s needed recovery time.

The attack struck true and the bird fell to the ground with a squawk. Vulnerable now, he unhooked his thermos and sucked up the ghost easily. Capping it, and reattaching it to his belt, Danny flew around the school, trying to find the other two vultures or Vlad.

Using his ghost sense to guide him, he makes his way off the school property and into the woods that were just behind, Danny soon found the second vulture. It was odd though the bird was flying quickly away from the school instead of trying to attack him it kept on its trajectory.

It didn’t take Danny long to put two and two together and realize that the vulture was luring him somewhere. So he threw up a shield in front of the bird, which it flew into with a wet sounding thump before that minion too was sucked away.

“Ha, even dead birds fly into stuff” Danny quipped.

He flew upwards to get his bearings and realized he was halfway to Elmerton almost now. He cursed under his breath before doubling back towards the school, ignoring his ghost sense that was trying to draw him further away.

If Vlad was involved in this… whatever it was, he at least wanted to try and make it hard for him to execute whatever plan that frootloop had set up. Heading back towards the school he caught sight of a flash of green of a pair of Ectopuss in the football field.

“How did I miss you?” He muttered as he flew down towards them.

He hardly entered the school grounds when a pink blast shot towards him whizzing right by his ear. Only the sound of the static as it fizzed through the air alerted him to the attack, giving him barely enough time to dodge.

“Ah Daniel, I must admit I was anticipating you being gone for a little longer.” Vlad mused seemingly unimpressed by the teenager’s appearance.

“Did you really expect me to go that far once I realized your cronies leading me off?” Danny spat hands aglow with green sparking energy.

“Well of course I did. Your infernal hero complex is all too predictable after all.” Vlad chuckled dryly. “By the way little badger, how did you sleep last night? I had an unfortunate ghostly animal jailbreak.”

“Of course that was you.” Danny snarled before launching an attack at the man.

Vlad simply floated out of the way casually, smirking in that overly pompous manner of his. “As I said, predictable.” he chuckled darkly before a clone came up from behind and kicked Danny down to the ground.

The teen yelled and tried to slow his fall, but he still managed to leave a decently sized crater in the ground when all was said and done. Danny pulled himself free in launch skyward invisibly hoping to catch Vlad off guard.

Again, the elder half ghost dodged, before rounding on the teen and trapping him with a bear hug

"Now, now, Daniel. I can't have you messing up my plans my dear boy. Today is the day I Triumph and finally end that fool Jack Fenton and take Maddie for my wife," he purred

Danny's eyes go wide at the man's words. “What did you do,” He growled out. “Where are my parents Vlad! I swear-”

“Oh don’t worry it’s nothing dear Maddoline can’t handle. Tell me did you happen to get all three of my minions or did you simply come back here to confront me?” The man smiled in an overly sickeningly way that made Danny want to vomit.

“Wait, you - UGH!” Danny sees red, or rather green, as his eyes shine bright the need to protect overwhelming him as he stretches his body out and escapes the man’s hold. Snapping himself back to proper shape he lets loose a powerful mix of ecto plasma and ice.

It launched out of his palms so large and wide that Vlad had no choice but to try to shield, unable to dodge. The pink shield strained and shook, cracking with spiderwebs lacing the ecto construct.

Danny’s fury helped fuel his power and the added power backing him enabled him to break through the shield, hitting Vlad square in the chest... and destroying the clone in a hiss of melting pink sludge.

The teen whirled about in the air looking for the next attack, any possible sign of his enemy. How dare he! This was his town, his lair and he would protect the people in it. In a way, they were his too. It only fueled his rage knowing it was his father who was at risk.

Danny snarled in rage before shaking himself into a more coherent state. He fumbled about on his person managing to find whatever weird interstate his phone had gone into, and pulled it free to check it over.

He pushed it open and brought up the ‘Fenton Finder’ app that showed where the GAV was at any given moment, something that the citizens of the city enjoyed so they could avoid the areas whenever possible, usually meaning that there was a ghost attack wherever the Fenton’s were heading.

For Danny, it helped him avoid, or find his parents quickly. Finding his parent’s location was easy and after sticking his phone from what area it had come from, he’d shot off like a rocket. Thankfully they weren’t far, practically down the street from the school near the mall actually, which made sense otherwise Vlad wouldn’t have been able to maintain his clone.

Danny arrived on the scene just in time to see Vlad telekinetically tossing things towards the GAV. He had managed to split up the elder Fentons and lifted a few cars getting ready to toss them at Jack with a howl.

Danny slammed into Vlad tackling him to the ground, hands burning as bright as his eyes as he blasted the ghost.

The damage was already done though. As soon as Danny had tackled Vlad, the cars had become encased in pink energy causing it to still follow the trajectory that Vlad had wanted.

Both halfas slammed into the ground but were still high enough, the crater created not too deep in the pavement, to see what was happening.

Vlad smirked and took Danny’s distraction as a chance to escape phasing into the ground leaving a bewildered teen halfa unable to move, only stare at the scene before him.

The car sailed towards Jack who tried to bound out of the way. The large man was not as fast as he liked to believe and of course, was a large target, to hit. The car slammed into his leg knocking the tall man over and causing him to roll back from the force of the strike.

“Fu-e- Ouch! That’s broken…” Jack hissed out changing his swear last minute. The orange clad man struggled to get to his feet, his right leg bending awkwardly below the knee, but putting all his weight on his left allowed him to clamber to his feet… er, foot.

Danny heaved a sigh of relief seeing his father still standing, a little worse for wear granted but overall alive…. Or at least he was until he saw the man he always knew to be cheerful and boisterous, went quiet and pale, letting out a barely audible “N-No...”

Danny realizing Vlad had taken off, stood and followed his father’s gaze, heart and core both pounding anxiously, before burning away into a mix of sorrow and furry. There, just a little bit away, he could just barely make it out to what it should look like… but it was indeed a leg... in a very familiar, painfully familiar, teal colour, sticking out from under a car.

Danny gulped wishing silently that the red that was splashed about the concrete was just paint… A grunt and a crunch pulled Danny’s attention back to his father, who was trying desperately to meet his wife.

Carefully he flew to the large man before landing silently beside him, only to look away a second later ashamed. “I…. I couldn’t stop him in time…” He managed out, voice as broken as he currently was and glow dimming to an almost nonexistent state. “H-Here…”

Jack wrenched his eyes away from the blood and gore before him to stare listlessly at Phantom. Normally his scientific mind would be undoubtedly fascinated by the things currently being exhibited by Phantom, but right now…

Jack hardly said anything, not even so much as a protest as Danny looped his arm around the large man’s back allowing him to use the ghost as a crutch. That normally would have worried Danny but his everything was just stricken. He just…

He forced himself to move forward, urged on more by Jack’s listless hobbling rather than his own will to do so. He heard sirens, and couldn’t care less whether they were police, ambulance, fire or even the GIW coming for him… he just…

He had to know that the stillness of that form ahead really was due to...

He shook his head chastising himself for thinking such a thing before he had any proof. Though the closer he got, the colder the air around him felt.

Even Jack was shivering but his mind was numb to the biting temperature that Phantom was giving off… Nothing mattered just… “Madds… Oh, Maddie…” Jack whimpered, as they rounded the car.

Phantom turned green and fell away from Jack’s eyes widened. His stomach turned at the bloody scene before him. His mother… she was… “She’s... She’s dead!” Phantom cried out large luminescent tears falling from his eyes as he quivered in sorrow and grief.  

It was a grizzly sight

XxXxXxX

   Maddie was not in one whole piece for starters, her lower half had been cleaved off by the car leaving her legs to lay underneath while her upper body had rolled on, landing sideways against the curb, Her eyes, still opened, were glassy like that of a dead fish, and were quickly clouding.  

   Her skin now looked a sickly grey as opposed to the healthy pink and peach Danny had come to associate with his mother. Her face had been scraped deeply from when she had slid across the pavement, reminding the teen sickeningly of ground beef with how bad the scrapes were.  

   Entrails hung out from below her ribcage spilling their foul greenish yellow bile across the pavement, while chunks of… something Danny didn’t even want to identify was strewn about in various shades of whiteish, grey, pink, bright red and reddish black…  

   Bones... That was bones… or rather bits of bone that had been crushed and scattered from the impact…. Danny had seen bones before of course, there were skeleton ghosts after all but never like this… not something like this...  

   And all the red! Red was everywhere. No matter where he looked there was red. Large globbing splatters all the way down to the tiniest of pinpricks, it was there, and it was her. His mother… her essence...The iron scent was so strong now he could taste it.    

XxXxXxX

It quickly became too much for the teen, and he had to turn away from the scene onto the nearest boulevard to vomit. A thick green sludge that awfully enough reminded him of a slightly glowing lime Jell-o tumbled out from his stomach, burning his throat and nose.

After having emptied his stomach of whatever was in there and turning away from the mess he’d made, he carefully returned to his father who was weeping openly having fallen to his knees as he did so. The broken man was unable to turn away.

Danny swallowed thickly doing his best to keep his eyes on the ground, thankfully his own tears made everything blurry so he didn’t have to focus in on the mess that his mother had become…

“D- Jack? ...Come on… There are paramedics…” The teen managed out weakly. Jack looked up at him as if finally realizing just who was here beside him. Danny forced himself not to look away from the lost broken look on his father’s face. When he tried to say more it was as if his mouth was suddenly filled with cotton, and he opened it and closed it a few times unsure what to say.

“What do you want, Phantom?” The man asked after a moment of silence passed, both openly letting their tears fall, but neither mentioning it. The accusation was there but it was so much weaker than he had ever heard before… “If you’ve come to gloat I-”

“What!? No! Never! I… I actually wanted to say I’m sorry… I wasn’t fast enough I… This is my fault…” He sniffed out.

“What?! You’re sorry? You’re sorry!?” Jack boomed anger getting the better of him. Danny had heard enough of Jazz’s lectures to know what this was. He was so distraught and hurt, that he was going to take out his anger on anything he could…

Danny couldn’t blame him for turning on him though… everything is his fault.

“Sorry is not going to bring her back! Sorry isn’t going to fix this! Sorry isn’t going to- '' The man's voice cracked, breaking as he screamed becoming silent a second before he broke down again. “She’s gone… Sh-She’s gone!”

“I’m so sorry... This is my fault! If I was faster! I-I should have figured out Plasmius’s plan sooner I-I’m such an idiot I… oh Mom…” Danny hiccupped and tugged at his hair, nails digging into his scalp. “Mom! It’s all my fault! I should have saved you!”

“Wh- What did you?” Jack sniffed head snapping up in an instant watching as Phantom seemed to be having a mental breakdown. “Mom…” he managed out between sobs. Jack stole a glance at his broken wife, before staring back at Phantom.

The ghost looked young. Maybe somewhere in his mid teens at most, and with his glow now as weak as it was, he could clearly see the ghost that was usually hidden within the usual ethereal fog. He was a boy really, he looked so small, not at all like the muscled form they usually see. His glow was pretty much gone, leaving his usually brilliant white hair a dull steel grey. His white gloves and even the sharp crisp black… all of it just looked so dull…

Even the usual bright radioactive ectoplasmic green of his eyes had faded to a more human looking colour. If one were to take away the slight green tint in his skin he could easily pass for a kid who just dyed his hair, so long as someone wasn’t looking too hard at him... It was so surreal and uncanny in how the ghost moved, like an old movie that was missing an occasional frame.

And he was clearly having some sort of… episode… Perhaps he had died in a car crash with his mother? Was that why this was affecting him so strongly? The soft sobs of the usually strong and cocky ghost, and watching the boy cry about his mother… It felt so wrong.

“What kind of hero am I if I can’t even save my own mother? I can’t help anyone!” he sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve leaving an iridescent slime trail along his sleeve.

“Phantom…” Jack tried softly. Instantly the ghost’s head popped up to look at him, though it didn't last long as a moment later he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“Just… Just get it over with… hurry up and tear me apart… just… It’ll make us both feel better right?” the ghost pleaded brokenly to Jack's dull green eyes staring blankly ahead. “At least then I… I can be useful… not a disappointment… I’m just a screwup… I- “

“Phantom…” Jack said softly.

“I- I’m sorry” He sniffed.

Jack blinked slowly. “I need you to help me get to the paramedics.”  

“I’m- You want me to help?” He sniffled again. He really was a broken child at this moment and not just a ghost… besides, Jack didn’t have the fight in him right now to even bother trying to attack the ghost. “Really?” Phantom asked again, hope filling his green eyes.

“Yeah… I mean since I can’t walk,” came the simple response. “I…I need your help Phantom.”  

The ghostly teen nodded and moved forward to help the large man. Storm clouds barely being contained behind his eyes, while Jack on the other hand, just felt numb.

As Phantom helped Jack over to the emergency responders neither one noticed the other ghost that was on a nearby roof, staring down at the scene in silent horror.

Vlad masters or Plasmius in his current form had undoubtedly, unequivocally, and unquestionably screwed up… big time. Not only had his plan failed in the most spectacular way possible, but he had also killed the love of his life. By his own power, his own hand, she had stopped breathing, her heart stopped beating… her life drained.

In trying to end Jack, the man who ruined his life, he had unintentionally ended another's. The one most precious to him… Second only to the kinship that he had felt with Danny…

That feeling had been the most notable change here…

As it stood now, Vlad was unsure if he still felt the same about the younger half ghost. It was Daniel’s fault his plan had gone awry… If it wasn’t for him that would be Jack’s corpse smeared across the pavement from the car. The hunks of metal crushing the fat oaf of a man, not his dear sweet innocent Madeline.

But at the same time… they still shared a curse. A curse that bound them together whether they liked it or not. It was something that bound them to walk a tightrope of life and death and experience a sensation of isolation like no other.

Though as Vlad watched Jack interacting with Phantom, how the ghost tenderly had started embracing the man, and Jack in turn squeezed and held the boy so tight it looked like he would pop, the man couldn’t stop the bit of jealous rage that fermented in his core.

And yet, the more human side of his brain was breaking. Maddie was gone and he had destroyed Daniel’s family in all the wrong ways… It was his fault here as much as it was Daniel’s, and now... Now he just needed some time to himself to reflect…

Danny wasn’t sure how long he’d hugged his father for, and in ghost form no less, but they both needed this and it seemed like it didn’t matter who was there to offer the much needed comfort. “I-I…” He swallowed thickly again when he looked up into the deep blue eyes of his father globs of tears rimming his lashes and streaking freely down his face.

“It… It’s okay… I… You just… you look so much like my son like this” Jack admits. “I… I couldn’t... I…Oh, Danny....”

“Dad… I wanted to tell you sooner, and … and Mom too but…” He sniffed, trying to clear his nose and opened his mouth to continue only to hiccup, his voice betraying him. As the paramedics, cops and of course the GIW start to encircle them Danny whispered simply. “We-We’ll talk at home I…”

“Ecto-entity Phantom, by the order of CR-2003-02 you are under arrest!” The agent called out earning several glares from the emergency responders that had shown up.

“Like hell he is!” Jack boomed, surprising everyone there, but none more than the ghost himself. “You leave right now or I swear...” The large man said in a rather flattened tone. Jack loud was one thing, that was normal… Jack talking calmly or quiet well… that meant hell was about to break loose.

The agents looked about the area awkwardly, before one brave one with dark skin piped up. “But the law states-”

“And the law can get you a warrant to take him,” Jack said simply eyes hardened. He was not about to deal with them after… after… he shakes his head to clear his thoughts before putting an arm around Phantom… Danny… Danny Phantom, and pulling him to himself. “Ghost’s mine and I’m a licenced hunter so I have possession. Now leave.” he barked

Danny watched his father in awe. He’d seen his father upset before of course, and even protective of him and Jazz before too, but never like this…

The agents shared a glance before backing off with glares all the way back to their van.

The paramedics were next to approach while the Cops started roping off the area. Everything was a blur after that. And Danny hardly remembers anything once the paramedics took Jack.

He knows at some point he flew home, not bothering to head back to school, as he sort of ‘blinked back into reality’ to realize he was staring at his ceiling. He really didn’t care about school right now…

He wasn’t sure what time it was when Jazz came home. Her eyes were red and she sighed in relief upon seeing him, before practically collapsing on top of him crushing him in a hug their father would be proud of. It only took a second before they both began to sob again… -.-.-.-.-.-.-.- Incomplete Total words: 4711

[svubloods]

Imagine finding out you’re pregnant with Peter’s baby

Imagine finding out you’re pregnant with Peter’s baby

Dr Becca Langley watched curiously as her next client walked into the room after her assistant called for him. He greeted her with a quick nod before taking a seat heavily across from her. Almost immediately sinking into back into his seat, as if he wanted it to swallow him whole, which only made her perk up and lean forward, as she continued to observe him.

She flipped to a fresh page in her notebook before smiling at him.

“Good Morning Peter,” She said greeting the somewhat distracted ADA.

“Dr Langley,” He nodded, still insistent on referring to her as that despite knowing her for over a year now.

“You know it’s Becca,” She brushed off as he remembered to switch off his phone.

“So Peter, what’s been happening since the last time I saw you?”

From there they continued to engage in conversation as per usual. Like every other week, it started with them discussing his work week. A fact that had originally annoyed Peter as he thought it useless at the start especially as he couldn't give her details, which she knew quite well, as he wasn't seeing a psychiatrist to talk about work, let alone paying her to do so. But as time progressed he appreciated the build-up talking about work provided as it made transitioning the conversation into the topics that weren't easy to discuss easier. Another thing that made it easy was the fact that much to his surprise Doctor Langley often contributed to the conversation with her own experiences and antidotes about her husband and young daughter. Which made it much more comfortable for Peter as he felt like it was a conversation instead of just him speaking.

The whole idea of seeing a psychiatrist after everything that had happened wasn't his. It was yours before you were dating you suggested that he talk to someone about everything that had happened. He knew things weren’t right after Pam died and you telling him that he was self-destructing was the push he needed to get the help he needed. And it had been helping, he was apprehensive at first as he had never been so open with his feelings but as time went on it became easier for him especially within the safe confines of Dr Langley’s office. In fact, it the Doctor that encouraged Peter to be upfront about his feeling for you as apparently it was obvious that ‘he cared very deeply for Y/N’ which was true but he disputed that it was easy to tell that he did.

Now that you were together and one of the most important parts of his life, you naturally came up in conversation a lot. And Peter did discuss your relationship in sessions from time to time. It was new territory, the whole relationship thing, for the both of you so he did appreciate the guidance. In spite of that though and all the positive progress that he made with his inner demons and emotional intelligence, he was still set in ways. And when things were bothering him and even if he did want to discuss them, he would never bring them up himself. He always waited for her to ask or for the perfect segway to appear. So Dr Langley had become an expert at knowing when Peter wanted to talk about something but needed her to ask him about it.

“Peter is something bothering you?” Dr Langley inquired, putting down her pen and looking directly at him.

“No…why do you asked,” He brushed off, a little too quickly.

“You seem a little off,” She phrased carefully, as Peter tapped his foot impatiently and ran a hand through his hair.

He sighed, “Well…”

“Well?” She encouraged.

“I was going to skip out on our session today,” He admitted.

“Oh, and why’s that?” She asked.

“I wasn't in the mood for talking about my feelings after the past few days I had and especially this morning,” He offered, “But I thought it would be rude to cancel so late so here I am,”

“What happened this morning?”

Peter averted his gaze and played with his hands. It was always hard for him to talk about you and your relationship. He had even asked you if he could discuss your relationship in these sessions, which you, of course, agreed too, you just wanted him to have support after everything and you knew you couldn't do that all that yourself. But he still found it difficult to share the most important part of his life, perhaps because he knew exactly what it was like to use it, but he would never risk losing you.

You and Peter were just a couple weeks shy of your first anniversary though you had known each other for over two years at this point, but there is a difference between being in an actual relationship and being colleges, friends and even something more. You’d moved into his apartment around two months ago and things had been going really well.

For Peter your relationship was difficult to describe, it was intense and very serious, in the way that you had both been through a lot and you both weren't used to serious commitment but you were doing it for each other because your feelings for each other were that serious. But in another way, it was very silly and fun because you both had such serious jobs that in order to survive you needed something light to balance it all out and keep you from going insane. And that was your relationship, not everything was always so serious in spite of the intensity of your connection. And this isn't even mentioning the fact that neither of you could keep their hands off the other. Peter couldn't explain it but when you both were together he feels like his true self and everything else feels right. And the past eleven months hadn't been easy, you had so much thrown at you but you made it through and that was all that mattered. You were still committed to each other and committed to being with each other and being in love because fundamentally you both worked so well. But that didn't mean it was always easy being with each other.

“Y/N and I got into a fight,” He confessed, “Well actually we continued a fight from the night before,”

“All couples fight Peter,” She began.

“I know but it wasn't a normal couple fight…like it wasn't the sort of fight we usually have…it was different,” He fumbled, uncharacteristically unable to look her in the eye.

“What are you saying?” She questioned seeking clarification from him.

“I messed up… really badly,”

“Y/N! Y/N!” Sonny shouted loudly into the thrashing dark blue water while simultaneously watching over the two young children you had already pulled from the water.

You had dived back under for the second time for the oldest of three children and you had been under for too long. You weren't even supposed to be down there but it was an emergency and as soon as you saw the car go into the river, you raced out your car and dived in without a second thought. You quickly caught up with the sinking car and recovering the two girls trapped in the backseat of the sinking car. Bringing up to the surface as quickly as your body allowed and practically throwing them at Sonny before diving back down in an attempt to save the struggling twelve-year-old, the oldest of three children, almost killed by their unstable mother. She was also in the car but you were too focused on getting her children to safety to even pay her a second thought.

Your lungs burned and your limbs throbbed as you pulled the now unconscious twelve-year-old boy the waist, holding your breath as you raced up to the surface. It was you against time and you needed to beat it as he started to slip away in his arms. You muster up all your strength to pull him ahead of you so that he broke the surface before you did. As soon as his head bobbed above water he was pulled out of your arms and to safety. You allowed yourself one breath and in those few seconds, you saw Sonny and a few uniforms take care of the children and heard the sounds of more backup and ambulances approaching. Help was coming but it wouldn't be here quick enough. And despite your feelings for a murder who had almost killed her children, you went back under, ignoring the warnings of those at the shore.

The water was dark as you dove to catch up with the sinking vehicle for the third time, plunging deeper and deeper, to the point everything was blurry and your whole body was screaming at you. You couldn't even think to evaluate what you were doing. Regardless of who she was and what she had just done, driving her and her children into the Hudson River, you weren't ready to let her sink, to get away with it without even trying to save her.

By the time you reached her, she was unconscious and dangerously still but that didn't stop you from grabbing hold of her body after untangling her and taking her back to the surface. And despite being in the vast body of water that made up the Hudson River. You felt enclosed and the pressure around your body intensified to the point that ever kicks your worn out legs out made was a fight for survival. Your now beginning to fail due to the prolonged lack of oxygen.

But you made it.

Once again the limp body was pulled away from you but now she was attended to by the paramedics. As you were pulled from the river yourself you saw ambulances with the three children start speeding to the hospital. You saw CPR start to begin on their attempted murderer. Back on solid ground, you stood up shakily and evaluated the scene.

“You idiot,” Sonny exclaimed before grabbing hold of his partner and hugging you tightly, ignoring that you were completely soaked, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Just me doing my job,” You joked, coughing on the water that still occupied your lungs.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” He insisted, pulling you towards an ambulance while simultaneously keeping you steady.

“I’m fine,” You stated adamantly, shaking him and some excess water off.

“Y/N…” He began but he didn't get to finish.

Because as soon as you straightened up, your body betrayed you. You had to spin around fast to avoid violently throwing up anywhere in anybody's actual direction. You hunched over the edge of the water and spewed. You don’t remember how long it all was but you felt light-headed already but it was much worse when you turned back around to face a horrified Sonny and paramedics gearing up whisk you away. Your words of protest barely made it out of your mouth as everything seemed to blur, suddenly knocked off balance. The intense pain had gone as you settled into unconsciousness, replaced with the feeling of cold stone pressed against your cheek.  

“What do you mean by that?” Doctor Langley inquired, her curiosity peaked

“I mean what I said…I messed up,” Peter responded, glancing away.

“Peter,” She scolded.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before looking in her direction, though purposely not at her.

“You know how I mentioned that sometimes I don't feel like I’m not good enough for Y/N?” He countered, his words reluctant but said all the same.

She nodded, “And we talked about it and I believe we reached an agreement on how these feelings don’t reflect the actual reality of the situation,”

“Yes,” He agreed, Peter was a master of words and yet when it came to matters of this nature words seemed to fail him, “But I can’t shake it you know? I know that you’re right. I know she loves me, she says it every day even when I forget. She loves me as I am right now and not who I might be or even who everyone thinks I am. And I still convinced myself that she deserves better as if I’m the judge of that. I convinced myself that even though I’m happy, so so happy with my life right now that she deserved better and I needed to give her that. But all I did was mess up one of the only good things in my life. My whole life actually because she is my world and I screwed it up. We both know that I’m the emotional one in this relationship, strangely enough, but yesterday it was like she snapped. I pushed her too far and I think I might have lost her,”

“Peter, do you think this might have to do with the anniversary of Pam’s death a few weeks ago?” She suggested after a brief silence.

“Why would you say that?” He demanded, shaking his head, “That has nothing to do with it,” 
 “Doesn’t it?” She asked, her tone careful but direct, “After she died you struggled with feelings of not being good enough and consequently punished yourself because you convinced yourself that you weren't good enough to save her. What happened to her is what brought you and Y/N closer because she could relate to what you were going through. She helped you get better. And I don’t think you got better because you wanted to be better for her, you got better for yourself because she made you want to be better.  I think that you projected those feelings that resurfaced on the anniversary of your relationship as a way to deal with those feelings. Does that sound about right?” 

“I…” He struggled.

“How about we talk through what happened?”

“Well, it started a couple weeks ago when…the anniversary came around,” He admitted, his words hesitant as he realised that she was right at the moment.

She nodded, encouraging him to go on.

“We’d just moved in together a month ago and everything was going great…fantastic even. We were happy and everything was going so well. And then I ran into into some old friends and it sounds so stupid now that I’m saying it. But they told me that I looked happy and that scared me,” He continued, bowing his head.

“Why did that scare you?”

“Because it’s the truth, I am happy,” He persisted, “But I used to convince myself that maybe I’m happy but what if she isn’t. What if she isn't as happy as I am? I love her so much and I used that and the fact that my last trial was a high stake two-week ordeal to distance myself from her. Because I let myself think that it was a good idea. In case I wasn't making her happy she could have that space to figure it out. So I spent all day at work, left before she did, came home after she went to sleep. Was working on weekends because I told myself I had to be sure. But now I know I did it because I was scared about how i felt and I know that I’m the only person to blame for how I feel right now,”

“And how’s that?”

“Devasted,”

“Why?”

“Because I made her unhappy too,”

“I was happy…and I thought…you were too…” You replied, looking at him from across the room, keeping a distance between the two of you.

It was late, he’d come back late. You thought since the trial had finally wrapped up and he’d won, he’d come back home to see you, especially after what felt like weeks of properly seeing each other. You waited up but he had gone out with colleagues instead of coming home to you. And it broke you, like you had been holding it together and you finally snapped. You were exhausted and sick and now you were heartbroken. It felt like those creeping thoughts you had over the past few weeks were coming true.

“I am happy,” He insisted, taking a step towards you.

“Then why are you doing everything you can not to see me?” You demanded, taking a step back in response and putting up your hand to stop him get any closer. “That isn't true…” He began.

“Don’t try and pull that with me,” You interrupted fiercely, your hand clenching into a fist but tears were streaming down your face.

“Y/N…” He whispered, his voice tender, familiar, concerned, seeing you cry, out of the two of you Peter uncharacteristically was the more emotional one when it came to things like this so seeing you cry was enough for him to stop trying.

“What?” You shouted, frustrated.

“I’m sorry,”

“Now, you’re sorry?” You laughed, tragically, turning away so to wipe your tears.

“I was terrified, okay?” He gave in.

“About what?”

“Us,”

“What about us?”

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Peter breathed, close to you know, as you had allowed him to approach, he was an arm's length away, “I’ve never felt like this about anyone and I don’t think I ever will. And it’s terrifying because I know I can’t live without out you. I know that now. You are the only thing that matters and I was scared that even though you make me happy that I might not make you feel the same. Because I can’t do any better than you but you could way better than me. And I would be willing to give you up if it meant you were happy. I would let myself lose the only person I had left it made you happy.”

“No,” You stated, fiercely.

“What…?” He stuttered.

“You don’t get to decide what makes me happy. I do,” You argued, “I wake up every day and unapologetically choose you, not because I have to and not for you either. But for me, because you make me happy. And you would know that if you had just talked to me. Instead of making me feel like this to make yourself feel better.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” He insisted.

“Then why didn't you?” You interrogated, “Do you know how it feels to have the person you love the most suddenly act like they don't care about you for no reason at all? I’ve been asking myself what I did wrong, absolutely sick with worry that I feel nauseous, it was exhausting.”

“I’m sorry,”

“I just missed you so much,” You cried, letting it all out.

“I’m…”

“I don’t know if I can do this,”

“What?” He stammered.

“I don’t think I can be someone who can’t talk to me about when they feel insecure about our relationship,” You said steadily, though you were shaking and had backed yourself up against the wall, “ Someone who can’t communicate with me and instead plays games with me. Makes me feel like this. Because I know if you had just talked to me. I would have told you that for me, I know there is no one else that I want to be with because I love you so much. But I can’t go through this again.”

“Y/N,” He called after you after you slipped down the corridor toward the guest room.

“I need to be alone,” You responded before slamming the door in his face and breaking down against it as soon as you did.

“Detective Reagan?” The nurse, Clarke, asked, the sound of her concerned voice bringing you back to reality and with it the nosiness of the hustle and bustle of the hospital ward all of which you had drowned out when you were plunged into your own thoughts, her eyes were soft and sympathetic as she watched you lie their, stunned, “Y/N!”

You felt her hand pulling yours over the metal railing, you had been gripping it tightly and your hand had gone bright red in response, well at least it wasn't blue anymore. As soon as you noticed you let her pull you away and flexed it carefully.

“Is there anyone I can call to be with you?” She inquired, her voice soothing.

Words seemed to escape you and all that came out of your mouth was a cross between a croak and gulp, so you just shook your head.

“Are you sure? Your father is listed as your emergency contact. Maybe if we call…” She began to suggest.

“No,” You interrupted abruptly, before softening your voice, “No, I’ll…I will be fine…Right?”

“I know this is a lot to take in, especially right now in your condition…” She offered, comfortingly.

“I can’t be…” You sputtered, “I don’t know how…”

“Right now, I’m going to need you to relax,” She insisted, seeing you starting to work yourself up into a frenzy.

You nodded again and settled back in the bed, utterly consumed in your mind and your whirlwind of thoughts but your eyes were staring blankly ahead. The world around you seemingly going on without you while you seemed to be time locked, stuck in the moment, this life-changing moment. Perhaps the hectic environment of the hospital was exemplifying your feelings but you were overwhelmed with the feeling of unreadiness. You didn't feel ready at all. You didn't feel sure. Everything that had once felt so certain in your life, stable, seemed to be teetering on the edge all of a sudden. Nothing was certain, not your job, not your family and friends, not your relationship and not your life. No, in a second everything had changed.

And you couldn't tell if it was for the best or not.

In the moment? Panic was rising in your chest and your mind was spinning. It certainly didn't feel like it was for the best.

“For what it’s worth, and it may not be much since we just met,” The nurse began, taking a seat beside you and clasping your hand as the heart monitor beeped steadily beside the two of you, “I think you’re going to be great at it,”

“Why’s that?” You asked, playing along, giving her a small smile as she squeezed your hand, comfortingly.

“Well, you’re here because you just dived into Hudson River to save a bunch of kidnapped children after they were driven into it by their own mother,” She reiterated, “that seems very brave and selfless to me. And you’ll need a lot of that, that’s what being a mom is all about.”

“I was just doing my job,” You countered, reluctant to agree, “Serve and protect, remember?”

“But it’s the degree in which you decide to do it, is whats admirable,” She insisted, “ It’s above and beyond anything I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen a lot. It’s definitely more than any organisation can officially ask of you. So yes, I think you’re going to be great. Fantastic even,”

“You don’t know me,” You commented, letting out a sad laugh, “If you did you would know that I’m too much of screw to be someone’s parent. I don’t know if I can live with screwing up someone else’s life,”

“Oh sweetie,” She sighed, before leaning over and hugging you tightly while rubbing your back.

You were surprised at first but you soon let it happen, clutching the stranger tightly and beginning to cry into her shoulder. You don’t know how long you stayed like that but she made no attempt to let go, holding you as long as you needed. Eventually, though you let her go still sniffling but wiping away the last of your tears.

“Sorry,” You whispered, noticing the patch you had left on her shoulder.

“Oh, don’t you worry about it,” She brushed off, “I’ve had much worse on me,”

“I bet,” You giggled.

“Ah well look at that smile,” She pointed out, “Let’s hope your little one has it,”

You clenched your jaw at the mention. You couldn't let yourself forget what she started this conversation with. You hadn’t expected it at all, you’d had an insane few days and an even crazier morning, in more ways than one. You had expected her to tell you that you were being discharged, you were only here as a precaution anyway, not that you were actually four weeks pregnant and that was the reason you were feeling this way and why you were so ill.

“How are you feeling now, Y/N?” She inquired, after going over your charts.

“Better,” You admitted, “Physically at least,”

“Well that’s good but the doctor did say she wants to keep you on fluids for a bit and see how it goes. Extra precautions given the circumstances, you understand.” She explained clearly.

“Yeah,”

“And emotionally how are you feeling?” She probed.

“I’m absolutely petrified,”

Had you ruined everything already, without even trying, without even knowing? If you had known you would have done everything differently this morning and last night. Now that you knew it alms explained what happened but how could you let yourself do that. Well, you didn't know. You had absolutely no idea, you had felt the same besides the extreme fatigue and being way more emotional than normal. Perhaps you should have noticed but it wasn't even something that you even considered. It just never occurred to you.

And you were pretty sure that you hadn't ever discussed children. Neither of you weren’t the type of people who sat down and discussed the future and what you wanted. You were enjoying being with each other now and even though you wanted a future with him, you hadn't thought about what that would entail.

Though recently that had been far from your mind and when you did think about the future. You were questioning it. After what happened last night, your relationship was on the edge and now you were a month pregnant.

You had been so distracted that you had brushed off all the signs. Exhaustion, that was normal even if it was a little worse. Headaches and nausea everything that was going on with Peter. The cramps? All the snacks that Sonny had been feeding you. It was easy to explain away and you knew that with everything was going on you probably wouldn't have realised if you hadn't been sent to the hospital after collapsing. You could have also done without the hypothermia. Clare, the Nurse, comforted you once again before promising to come back and check on you.

You didn’t know when you were going home as they had made it clear that they wanted to be careful.

You were buried under blankets and hooked up to IV in hoping to get warmed up. You squeezed your eyes shut in hopes of sleeping but your mind was racing. The reality was hitting you and you weren’t prepared. You were alone. Peter could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket for the umpteenth time when he finally walked out of Dr Langley’s office. He had felt it throughout it session but obviously ignored it because he was supposed to turn it off but he could never bring himself too just in case there was an emergency. It was buzzing continuously so he stopped in the middle of the waiting room. There were calls from various different people. He opted for Sonny as he had called the most. Putting the phone to his ear he glanced around the room as it rang. His eyes falling to the TV playing in the corner. And what it was playing made him lower the phone paralysed.

“It is believed that the mother drove the car into the water early this morning after a court declared her unfit and gave full custody of her three children to their Father,” The screen blared, “…she was declared dead at the scene while her three children were saved by two NYPD detectives and are believed to be  in stable condition at Mercy General. One of the Detectives, Detective Y/N Reagan of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit was also hospitalised after saving the children from the water, her condition is currently unknown…”

“You look awful,” Danny commented, peering down at you, after suddenly appearing by your side.

“Danny?” You asked weakly, opening your eyes and seeing him there, “What are you doing here?”

“Your partner and I have an agreement. He calls me when you do something stupid, like deciding not to call anyone when you get hurt…plus you’re all over the news so I’ll give it ten more minutes until everyone we’re related to descends,”

You let out a heavy breath as you straightened up.

“You okay kid?” He asked, serious this time, taking your hand as you closed your eyes again.

“No,” You joked, “Apparently it’s not a good idea to take a swim in the Hudson River…in February,”

“I could have told you that,” He commented.

“Where would I be without you and your wisdom?” You continued.

“Dead,” He stated with a smirk before you sat in silence for a while.

“You don’t look okay,” He finally mentioned, unable to be subtle.

“You’ve already said that,” You played along.

“You sure you okay?”

You shook your head.

“I’ve really fucked up,” You whispered.

“I could have told you that,” He teased.

“I’m being serious,” You chuckled.

“So am I,” He winked, “But whatever is I’ll be here for you,”

“I know,”

“How bad can it be?” He offered.

“Daniel,” You warned.

“I didn’t ask what it was!” He defended, “Chill…wait actually don’t. We need you to warm up,”

You rolled your eyes as he seemingly started getting settled in the seat beside you.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s either I stay with you until you get discharged or everyone comes and waits with you,” He explained, grabbing a random magazine from the sideboard and flipping through it.

“Thank you,” You whispered.

“Whatever,” He dismissed, but he was still holding your hand.

A couple of hours later, Danny was helping you get released and the back home. You were feeling much better well better than before at least. But you knew you could recover at home at this point. Almost glad that you were going to get a couple of days off so you could think everything through, now that you were in the clear baby wise, in hopefully a better state of mind. You also had to figure things out with Peter and tell him that you were pregnant.

“So where’s that boyfriend of yours?” Danny asked, after stepping into the elevator to leave.

“He’s been in court all day he probably hasn't got the message,” You offered, though you were unsure.

“He could have called,” He suggested.

“My phone is in the Hudson River,” You reminded.

“Someone must have told him,” Danny insisted.

“I don’t know,” You stated a bit too harshly which shut him up.

Danny drove you home and you waved him off when he insisted to walk you back up. So you made your way up to your apartment alone, still in pain and just wanting to sleep, you had almost hoped that you would be greeted with an empty apartment like you had done so many nights these past few weeks. But no such luck.

You were greeted immediately by an obviously worried Peter, who had been pacing the living room, waiting for you.

“Y/N,” He breathed when you stepped towards him.

You opened your mouth to speak but you were speechless. You wanted to mad, angry, upset but also happy and you strangely felt relieved seeing him. You wanted a definitive emotion to feel and definitive idea of what to do. Your heart, your mind was at war in that second, screaming at you. And you gave in, just to what you wanted.

You raised your arms, indicating to him what you wanted. He rushed he wrap his arms around you as you buried yourself into his embrace, a slight sway as you held each other. Once again overwhelmed, so tears were spilling and you could feel his too when he pressed his face to yours when he leaned down.

“Where were you?” You asked.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me there,” He confessed, “But Danny texted me everything. I knew he would be with you so I asked him.”

“I needed you,” You whimpered.

“I know,” He sighed, “I just keep screwing all this up and getting things wrong,”

You breathed in.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“No broken bones or anything but I need a few days because hypothermia is awful when you’re…” You started before stopping. “What?”

“We need to talk,” You announced, stepping back and looking at him directly.

“We don’t have to do this now,” He reassured.

“We need to, now more than ever,” You brushed off, determined.

“Are you sure?”

“What you did was fucked up,” You confronted, “You made me feel so alone and I need someone who can never even imagine doing that to me,”

“There is no excuse for what I did,” Peter agreed.

“I know it wasn't because of me but you projected it onto me and that can’t happen,” You continued.

“I know,” He nodded, “It won’t ever happen again,”

“I hope it doesn’t because I do love you but I can’t know if I can do this,”

“What?”

“Us?”

“Are you?”

“No,” You reassured, “We need to work on things but I’m willing to if you are,”

“I am,”

“Good,” You sighed in relief, “Because there is something else,”

“What?”

“I’m four weeks pregnant,”

You watched as Peter registered the shock of your words. He looked taken aback which you expected but you didn't expect what came next. You expected an expression of worry, fear but all you got was one of love.

A smile.

“Seriously?” He questioned, holding you once again, searching your eyes with his.

“Yeah,” You whispered.

He pulled you into him again, the buzz of excitement almost vibrating off him, everything transpiring beforehand escaping from his mind as he was filled with unbridled joy.

“That is the greatest news I have ever heard,”

“It is?” You asked, pulling back in his arms to look at him again.

“Of course,” He breathed, leaning his forehead against yours, “There is no one else I’ve ever wanted to do this with besides you. I knew from the day we met that I wanted everything I told myself I didn't when I met you,” 
 “You want kids?” You questioned.

“Yes,” He grinned but it flattered as it looked at your expression, “Don’t you?”

“I…I don’t know…” You admitted, almost shamefully.

“We’ll figure this out,” He promised, grasping your hand and kissing it.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“You won’t leave me alone?” You asked, shakily.

“Never again will I ever be stupid,”

“I don’t want we’re going to do,” 

“We’ll figure it out,”

“I love you,” You muttered into his ear.

“Thank god,” He breathed, “Because I love you too. I always will,”

[sea-and-storm]

LFRP (CRYSTAL)  ||  KJRN FYTHE*

* Exact name & other details may change pending release of naming conventions.

[ BASIC INFORMATION ]

[FULL NAME]   Kjrn Fythe.

[PRONOUNCED]   Kee-ehrn Faiythe (rhymes with lithe).

[ALIASES]   None at present. At least, none to which she’ll answer. 

[GENDER]   Female.

[AGE]  Somewhere in her 80s-90s, but appears approx. early to mid-thirties.

[NAMEDAY]   21st Sun of the Fourth Umbral Moon (8/21).

[RACE]   Rava Viera

[RELIGION]   Questioning, non-practicing.

[LANGUAGES]   Common, Dalmascan.

[ACCENT]   Icelandic, by real world standards.

[HANDEDNESS]   Ambidextrous.

[ APPEARANCE ]

[HAIR]   A long and wildly voluminous mess of deep, rich burgundy, usually swept up into a long ponytail or left to trail down her back. Very soft, very shiny, and clearly tended to with much care and love. Touch at your own risk.

[EYES]   Pale gold.

[COMPLEXION]   Medium tan with coppery undertones.

[HEIGHT]   6′2″ (before ears)  -  7′0″ (with ears)

[BUILD]   A sturdy fighter's build. Whilst not wholly bereft of curvature, she's far from soft or delicate. Instead she bears the distinct musculature and build of someone who has poured many hours over many years into training their body for the rigors of battle.

[POSTURE]   In the public’s eye, upright and confident. Behind closed doors or in the company of those she trusts, her posture is more often than not that of someone tired and with much phantom weight bearing down upon them.

[SCARS]   She bears a number of general scars, mostly bestial in nature, across her body from the nature of the work she does delving into ruins and lairs. However, the most notable are the multitude of burn scars that cover a good portion of her body. They start at her right temple, mercifully skirting around the outer corner of her eye and proceeding downward over her cheek, jaw, neck, shoulder, the entire length of her arm, both hands up to the wrist, and down her side and back until coming to a rough stop around her hip. Save for her face, she usually tries to keep the rest of the scars covered from prying eyes.

[MANNER OF DRESS]   Nothing overly ostentatious, nor overly drab. You’re just as likely to find her in her working gear as opposed to street clothes, though. She seems just as, if not more comfortable in them. 

[JEWELRY]   Her ears are pierced thrice each, with three golden studs in each ear. Under her gloves on her left hand, she wears a simple golden band on her ring finger. There seems to be something inscribed on it, but the lettering is worn from age and she doesn’t often let anyone close enough to read it.

[ COMBAT SKILL ]

[COMBAT CLASS]   Gunblader & Markswoman.

[MELEE PROFICIENCY]   None  |  Low  |  Intermediate  |  High  |  Masterful

[RANGED PROFICIENCY]   None  |  Low  |  Intermediate  |  High  |  Masterful

[MAGICAL PROFICIENCY]   None  |  Low  |  Intermediate  |  High  |  Masterful

[HEALING PROFICIENCY]   None  |  Low  |  Intermediate  |  High  |  Masterful

[ATTRIBUTES] - - -  STRENGTH:   16 (+3) - - -  DEXTERITY:    15 (+2) - - -  CONSTITUTION:   16 (+3) - - -  INTELLIGENCE:   10 (+0) - - -  WISDOM:   9 (-1) - - -  CHARISMA:   10 (+0)

[WEAPONRY]  Salvaged and refitted Garlean-make gunblade & six-shot revolver.

[ARMOR]  Changes depending upon the circumstances. Varies from light leathers to heavier plate and chain, depending on the job.

[COMBAT STRENGTHS]   Fights well against beasts & Garleans, within open spaces. Excellent teamwork, fights well in a group setting. Highly protective of teammates.

[COMBAT WEAKNESSES]  Struggles against spoken races (except Imperials) and within tight spaces. Certain scenarios may trigger PTSD flashbacks mid-combat. Particularly sensitive to magical effects cast upon her;  too much aetheric exposure, even of the positive variety, may trigger a brief berserk state until the excess aether is expended and exhaustion takes over.

[ EARLY YEARS ]

[HOMELAND]   A forest village near the outskirts of Dalmasca.

[PARENTS]   Mjra Fythe (mother)  -  Father Unknown.

[SIBLINGS]   Aela Fythe (older sister)  -  Arla Fythe (younger sister)

[CLAN ROLE]   Huntress, tracker.

[CLAN STATUS]   Self-ostracized.

[REASON(S) FOR LEAVING]   Kjrn decided that she couldn’t see herself living her whole life in the Wood. Joined by her close friend and fellow huntress, Pria Atoel, she left for the city of Dalmasca to start a new life in the larger world.

[ LATER YEARS ]

[PAST RESIDENCE]   Dalmasca.

[PAST OCCUPATION]   Resistance fighter, magitek salvager.

[PAST AFFILIATION]   Dalmascan Resistance.

[PAST FINANCIAL STATUS]   Moderate, comfortable.

[PAST SOCIAL STATUS]   Respected.

[PAST RELATIONSHIPS]   Pria Atoel, wife - deceased.

[PAST FRIENDSHIPS]  A number of friends and allies from the Resistance, as well as other Dalmascan citizens. (Open to background connections!)

[REASON(S) FOR LEAVING]   Left Dalmasca and set herself to wandering aimlessly after a fire that stole both home and family from her.

[ PRESENT DAY ]

[RESIDENCE]   Wherever her weary feet wander. These days, it’s mostly Eorzea or an occasional jaunt to the Far East.

[OCCUPATION]   Treasure Hunter & Merchant of Myriad Miscellanea.

[AFFILIATIONS]   None actively, but still sympathetic to the Dalmascan Resistance and occasionally will send a bit of extra coin their way through some old contacts.

[FINANCIAL STATUS]   Varies. Sometimes well-off, sometimes dirt poor. Depends largely on how successful her treasure-hunting jaunts go.

[SOCIAL STATUS]   Hasn’t really stuck around in one place long enough in recent history to establish any roots nor reputation. Just another adventurer to most.

[RELATIONSHIP STATUS]   Widowed, shows little interest in courting anyone.

[PRESENT FRIENDSHIPS]   Keeps in touch with a few people from her Resistance days, but not many that she could call a close friend. (Open to connections!)

[VICES]   Occasionally numbs her pains with drink, smoke, and sex. She’s tried certain drugs before and while not entirely opposed to them, her sometimes light coinpurse usually keeps her from forming any sort of lasting habit.

[ ROMANCE & SEX ]

[GENDER IDENTITY]   Cisgender Female.

[ROMANTIC ORIENTATION]  Demi-homoromantic.

[EMOTIONAL ROLE]   Submissive  |  Dominant  |  Switch  |  Unsure

[RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES]   Her biggest tendency is to just not get herself into a relationship. But if she were to do so, it would be a difficult thing to uphold given her tendency to doubt herself and her anxiety over the thought of loss.

[LOVE LANGUAGE]  Kjrn isn’t much of a verbal lover. She’ll drop an ‘I love you’ every now and then, but her love shines through more in her actions. Her love language speaks in things like gentle, careful caresses and thoughtful gifts.

[SEXUAL ORIENTATION]   Homosexual.

[SEXUAL ROLE]   Submissive  |  Dominant  |  Switch  |  Unsure

[LIBIDO]   Surprisingly average, given how often she finds herself in the company of ladies of the evening. Truthfully, she just prefers not to sleep in a cold and lonely bed, and sex without emotional attachments is safer and less painful than otherwise.

[ATTRACTED TO]   Confidence. Kindness. Thoughtfulness. Gentleness. 

[TURN OFFS]   Arrogance. Selfishness. Cruelty. Indecisiveness. Shyness. 

[ PERSONALITY TRAITS ]

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

[ HOOKS ] 

TREASURE HUNTER Kjrn presently makes her living by delving into ruins, tombs, and other such places most folk have no business wandering into in search of anything she might turn a profit on. But such expeditions are dangerous, and usually she’ll either put together a small team herself or seek out a job that’s hiring apt hands. Got a job in need of a sturdy fighter with a big ol’ sword? She’s your viera! (As a note, I would also potentially be interested in finding an RP FC with this sort of theme! If you’re part of one of these FCs or even just know of one that might tick said box, let me know and I’ll gladly check it out!)

MERCHANT OF MYRIAD MISCELLANEA Naturally, after a victorious venture in dungeoneering, Kjrn will usually come out of it with a number of items in need of off-loading. She has a particular eye for anything shiny and beautiful like gems and jewelry, but she’s also been known to come back with anything from weapons to magical items to sell to whomsoever is inclined to pay good coin.

DALMASCAN RESISTANCE AFFILIATE Kjrn and her wife, Pria, were once fairly respected members of the Resistance, fighting the Imperials and salvaging magitek to refit and use against them when all was said and done. However, after the former’s passing, Kjrn stepped down from her active position in the Resistance to take on a more auxiliary role by helping support it financially. She still maintains connections to the Resistance to this day, and some still haven’t given up the hope that she might eventually return to the fight.

HATRED OF EMPTY BEDS Since the loss of her wife, Kjrn has come to absolutely abhor sleeping alone. Yet those wounds are still fresh in her mind despite the decades that have passed, and relationships are always fraught with the peril of loss. And so, Kjrn has become something of a frequent flyer when it comes to the services of ladies of the evening as a coping measure against the loneliness she feels. (That said, I am NOT looking for ERP-heavy / ERP-only connections. In fact, I usually prefer for ERP to come up as little as possible unless it serves a purpose in a narrative or if I just plain feel like stretching those rarely-used literary muscles now and again. So connections of this sort would mostly be of the before and/or after the act variety, and could even possibly be entirely bereft of any actual sexual RP.)

[ OOC ]

[CALL ME]   Jali, Ghoa, Kjrn.. Just don’t call me weird pet names, basically!

[I AM..]   A 27-year-old woman who works a full time job and plays multiple tabletop games as well as playing FFXIV, so my schedule can be kinda all over the place. I also love cats and really bad puns and writing drabbles that make people’s hearts hurt.

[AVAILABILITY]  Most weekday evenings from 5PM - 10PM Central. Weekends, pretty much whenever. Not available most Wednesdays, and some Thursdays/Saturdays due to various D&D games! Also please note that Kjrn is an alt character. Meaning I won’t be available for RP on her 24/7! Please be sure you’re okay with this before reaching out!

[IN-GAME NAME]  TBD. My cheap ass is waiting on naming conventions!

[SERVER]  Balmung (Crystal), but willing to world-visit for RP!

[PREFERRED RP METHODS]   Discord has quickly become my #1 RP platform because I can post even when I’m busy with something else or when I’m having a slow day at work. I can also do in-game RP, usually so long as we work out a day/time in advance! Sometimes I can do impromptu RP requests, but not often!

[HARD NO’S]  

RP of any sort with real-life minors. Sorry, I just don’t feel comfortable writing with anyone under eighteen! 

Characters that are minors ICly are tentatively fine, but I will absolutely not RP any romantic, sexual, mature, dark, or otherwise questionable themes with such a character;  and likewise, I will not RP with anyone whose minor character engages in this sort of RP with others, either.

Fetishistic characters, i.e. “f*ta”, “tr*p”, etc. Actual transgender, agender, genderfluid, etc. characters are 100% fine, but if your character is written not as a fleshed out person but as thinly veiled ERP-bait, I’m not interested.

OOC Romance or possessiveness or clinginess. Just... don’t. I don’t want to date you. I don’t want to sext with you. I don’t want to be up your butt 24/7, and I sure as hell don’t want you up mine. RP partners with reasonable personal space boundaries only need apply, please!

[iwantthis-c247]

20 Nutrition Facts That Should Be Common Sense (But Aren't)

Common sense should not be taken for granted when people are discussing nutrition.

Many myths and misconceptions are being spread — even by so-called experts.

Here are 20 nutrition facts that should be common sense — but aren't.

1. Artificial Trans Fats Are Unsuitable for Human Consumption

Trans fats are unhealthy.

Their production involves high pressure, heat, and hydrogen gas in the presence of a metal catalyst.

This process makes liquid vegetable oils solid at room temperature.

Of course, trans fats are more than just unappetizing. Studies show that they are unhealthy and linked to a drastic increase in heart disease risk (1, 2Trusted Source).

Luckily, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has banned trans fats as of June 18, 2018, though products manufactured before this date can still be distributed until 2020 and in some cases 2021 (3Trusted Source).

Plus, foods with less than 0.5 grams of trans fats per serving may be labeled as having 0 grams (4Trusted Source).

2. You Don't Need to Eat Every 2–3 Hours

Some people believe that having smaller, more frequent meals may help them lose weight.

However, some studies suggest that meal size and frequency have no effect on fat burning or body weight (5Trusted Source, 6Trusted Source).

Eating every 2–3 hours is inconvenient and completely unnecessary for the majority of people. Simply eat when you're hungry and be sure to choose healthy and nutritious foods.

3. Take News Headlines With a Grain of Salt

The mainstream media is one of the reasons behind many circulating nutrition myths and confusions.

It seems as if a new study makes headlines every week — often contradicting research that came out just a few months earlier.

These stories often get a lot of attention, but when you look past the headlines and read the studies involved, you may find that they’re often taken out of context.

In many cases, other higher-quality studies directly contradict the media frenzy — but these rarely get mentioned.

4. Meat Doesn’t Rot in Your Colon

It’s entirely false that meat rots in your colon.

Your body is well equipped to digest and absorb all the important nutrients found in meat.

The protein gets broken down in your stomach by stomach acids. Then, powerful digestive enzymes break down the rest in your small intestine.

Most of the fats, proteins, and nutrients are then absorbed by your body. While small amounts of protein and fat may escape digestion in healthy people, there is not much left to rot in your colon.

5. Eggs Are One of the Healthiest Foods You Can Eat

Eggs have been unfairly demonized because their yolks are high in cholesterol.

However, studies show that cholesterol from eggs doesn't raise blood cholesterol in the majority of people (7Trusted Source).

New studies that include hundreds of thousands of people show that eggs have no effect on heart disease in otherwise healthy individuals (8Trusted Source).

The truth is, eggs are one of the healthiest and most nutritious foods you can eat.

6. Sugary Drinks Are the Most Fattening Product in the Modern Diet

Excess added sugar can be detrimental to health — and getting it in liquid form is even worse.

The problem with liquid sugar is that your brain doesn't compensate for the calories by eating less of other foods (9Trusted Source).

In other words, your brain doesn’t register these calories, making you eat more calories overall (10Trusted Source).

Of all the junk foods, sugar-sweetened beverages are likely the most fattening.

7. Low-Fat Doesn’t Mean Healthy

The low-fat diet promoted by the mainstream nutrition guidelines seems to have been a failure.

Numerous long-term studies suggest that it neither works for weight loss nor disease prevention (11, 12Trusted Source, 13).

What's more, the trend led to a plethora of new, processed, low-fat foods. Yet, because foods tend to taste worse without the fat, manufacturers added sugar and other additives instead.

Foods that are naturally low-fat — like fruits and vegetables — are great, but processed foods labeled "low-fat" are usually loaded with unhealthy ingredients.

8. Fruit Juice Isn’t That Different From Sugary Soft Drinks

Many people believe that fruit juices are healthy, as they come from fruit.

Though fresh fruit juice may provide some of the antioxidants found in fruit, it contains just as much sugar as sugary soft drinks like Coca-Cola (14Trusted Source).

As juice offers no chewing resistance and negligible amounts of fiber, it’s very easy to consume a lot of sugar.

A single cup (240 ml) of orange juice contains just as much sugar as 2 whole oranges (15, 16).

If you're trying to avoid sugar for health reasons, you should avoid fruit juice as well. While fruit juice is healthier than soft drinks, its antioxidant content doesn’t make up for the large amounts of sugar.

9. Feeding Your Gut Bacteria Is Critical

People are really only about 10% human — the bacteria in your intestine, known as the gut flora, outnumber your human cells 10 to 1.

In recent years, research has shown that the types and number of these bacteria can have profound implications for human health — affecting everything from body weight to brain function (17Trusted Source, 18).

Just like your body's cells, the bacteria need to eat — and soluble fiber is their preferred fuel source (19Trusted Source, 20Trusted Source).

This may be the most important reason to include plenty of fiber in your diet — to feed the beneficial bacteria in your intestine.

10. Cholesterol Isn’t the Enemy

What people generally refer to as "cholesterol" isn't really cholesterol.

When people talk about the so-called "bad" LDL and "good" HDL cholesterol, they're really referring to the proteins that carry cholesterol around in your blood.

LDL stands for low-density lipoprotein, whereas HDL refers to high-density lipoprotein.

The truth is, cholesterol is not the enemy. The main determinant for heart disease risk is the type of lipoproteins that carry cholesterol around — not cholesterol itself.

For most people, dietary cholesterol has little or no effect on lipoprotein levels (21Trusted Source).

11. Weight Loss Supplements Rarely Work

There are many different weight loss supplements on the market — and they almost never work.

They’re claimed to lead to magical results but fail when put to the test in studies.

Even for the few that work — like glucomannan — the effect is too small to really make a noticeable difference.

The truth is that the best way to lose weight and keep it off is to adopt a healthy lifestyle change.

12. Health Is About More Than Your Weight

Most people focus too much on weight gain or loss. The truth is that health goes way beyond that.

Many obese people are metabolically healthy, while many normal-weight people have the same metabolic problems associated with obesity (22Trusted Source, 23Trusted Source).

Focusing just on body weight is counterproductive. It’s possible to improve health without losing weight — and vice versa.

It appears that the area where fat builds up is important. The fat in your abdominal cavity (belly fat) is associated with metabolic problems, while the fat under your skin is mostly a cosmetic problem (24Trusted Source).

Therefore, reducing belly fat should be a priority for health improvement. The fat under your skin or the number on the scale doesn't matter as much.

13. Calories Count — But You Don't Necessarily Need to Count Them

Calories are important.

Obesity is a matter of excess stored energy, or calories, accumulating in the form of body fat.

However, this doesn’t mean you need to monitor everything that enters your body and track or count calories.

Though calorie counting works for a lot of people, you can do many things to lose weight — without ever having to count a single calorie.

For example, eating more protein has been shown to lead to automatic calorie restriction and significant weight loss — without deliberately restricting calories (25Trusted Source, 26Trusted Source).

14. People With Type 2 Diabetes Shouldn’t Follow a High-Carb Diet

For decades, people have been advised to eat a low-fat diet with carbs making up 50–60% of calories.

Surprisingly, this advice was extended to include people with type 2 diabetes — who cannot tolerate a lot of easily digestible carbs, like sugar and refined starch.

People with type 2 diabetes are resistant to insulin and any carbs they eat will cause a big rise in blood sugar levels.

For this reason, they need to take blood-sugar-lowering drugs to bring their levels down.

If anyone benefits from a low-carb diet, it is people with diabetes. In one study, following a low-carb diet for only 6 months allowed 95.2% of participants to reduce or eliminate their blood sugar medication (27Trusted Source).

15. Neither Fat nor Carbs Make You Fat

Fat has often been blamed for obesity, as it has more calories per gram than protein and carbs.

Yet, people who eat a diet high in fat — but low in carbs — end up eating fewer calories than people on low-fat, high-carb diets (28Trusted Source, 29Trusted Source).

This has conversely led many people to blame carbs for obesity — which is incorrect as well. Plenty of populations throughout history have eaten high-carb diets but remained healthy.

As with almost everything in nutrition science, the issue depends on the context.

Both fat and carbs can be fattening — it all depends on the rest of your diet and your overall lifestyle.

16. Junk Food Can Be Addictive

In the past 100 years or so, food has changed.

People are eating more processed food than ever before, and the technologies used to engineer foods have become more elaborate.

These days, food engineers have found ways to make food so rewarding that your brain gets flooded with dopamine (30).

For this reason, some people can completely lose control over their consumption (31Trusted Source).

Many studies examining this phenomenon have found similarities between processed junk foods and commonly abused drugs (32Trusted Source).

17. Never Trust Health Claims on Packaging

People are more health conscious than ever before.

The food manufacturers are well aware of this and have found ways to market junk food to health-conscious people as well.

They do this by adding misleading labels like "whole-grain" or "low-fat."

You can find many unhealthy junk foods with these health claims, such as "whole-grain" Fruit Loops and Cocoa Puffs.

These labels are used to trick people into thinking that they're making the right choice for themselves — and their children.

If the packaging of a food tells you it’s healthy, chances are it isn’t.

18. Certain Vegetable Oils Should Be Avoided

Certain vegetable oils — like sunflower, soybean, and corn oil — contain large amounts of omega-6 fatty acids (33).

Studies suggest that a high intake of omega-6 fatty acids — relative to omega-3 — increases low-grade inflammation in your body (34Trusted Source).

Oils high in omega-6 may contribute to oxidative stress in some people, potentially contributing to heart disease (35Trusted Source, 36Trusted Source, 37Trusted Source).

For this reason, it may be a good health strategy to choose vegetable oils that are relatively low in omega-6 fatty acids. These include olive oil, canola oil, and high-oleic safflower oil.

This allows you to optimize your omega-6 to omega-3 ratio.

19. ‘Organic’ or ‘Gluten-Free’ Doesn’t Mean Healthy

There are many health trends in the world today.

Both organic and gluten-free food is becoming increasingly popular.

However, just because something is organic or gluten-free doesn't mean that it’s healthy. You can make junk foods from organic ingredients just as well as non-organic ones.

Foods that are naturally gluten-free are fine, but gluten-free processed foods are often made with unhealthy ingredients that may even be worse than their gluten-containing counterparts.

The truth is, organic sugar is still sugar and gluten-free junk food is still junk food.

20. Don’t Blame New Health Problems on Old Foods

The obesity epidemic started around 1980 and the type 2 diabetes epidemic followed soon after.

These are two of the biggest health problems in the world — and diet has a lot to do with them.

Some scientists started blaming these epidemics on foods like red meat, eggs, and butter, but these foods have been a part of the human diet for thousands of years — whereas these health problems are relatively new.

It seems more sensible to suspect new foods to be the culprit, such as processed foods, trans fat, added sugar, refined grains, and vegetable oils.

Blaming new health problems on old foods simply doesn't make sense.

The Bottom Line

Many nutrition myths and misconceptions are easily debunked with a bit of common sense and scientific evidence.

The above list gives you some insight into common misconceptions, helping you be more informed on your way to a balanced, healthy diet.

source: https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/20-nutrition-facts-that-should-be-common-sense#section20

[real-health-blog]

What is good cholesterol?

Cholesterol is an essential component of the Human body. 

What Is Cholesterol Exactly?

 It is first and foremost, a type of fat which is known as a sterol. It serves many bodily functions and is deemed vitally important to the human body, well at least good cholesterol has always been thought to, but the truth is that the human body needs both types of cholesterol which are HDL and LDL. (1) 

Our diet enables our body to convert the saturated and unsaturated fats we consume into cholesterol depending on what we eat and a few other factors that can dictate what kind of cholesterol is created. 

What Does Cholesterol Do? 

Cholesterol serves several functions like regulation and production of growth and development hormones, assimilating and processing Vitamin D, and may also play a role in how testosterone and estrogen function in the body.

 Cholesterol aslo assists in the production of stomach bile. It is needed for optimal neural activity as well as for the creation and maintenance of body tissue. Suffice it to say, cholesterol is important. 

The problem is when people talk about this subject, they are almost invariable meaning the bad type of cholesterol, but there are two types, low-density lipoprotein, and high-density high-density lipoprotein. 

One is good and one is considered to be bad, though this is a bit of a misnomer, because it's the effect of the lipoprotein on the cholesterol that matters, all things being equal. 

What Are Lipoproteins? 

These are a type of package that carries cholesterol around the body. Inside both HDL and LDL the cholesterol is exactly the same. 

Lipoproteins serve vital functions inside the body that allow several important activities to take place. Without these lipoproteins, the body would be unable to carry and maintain tissue health, and also our skin and hair would lose their moisture making it flaky and eventually causing it to fall out. 

What Does HDL & LDL Mean? 

These lipoproteins are broadly divided into two specific categories. They are the lighter lipoproteins or low-density lipoproteins (LDL) and heavier or high-density lipoproteins (HDL). There are actually more types than this, but these two are the main ones. 

What Is HDL?

HDL is widely regarded as a good part of the cholesterol spectrum. It is good because of its helpful properties and how it acts upon the body. As we all know, bad cholesterol causes our blood vessels and arteries to clog up because it collects in the inner linings of arterial walls and can lead to the restricted flow of blood. 

This is where HDL comes to the fore. One of its functions is to mainly carry this most harmful substance in our blood back to the liver where it is processed and expelled out. Much like a bouncer at a nightclub, HDL finds the misbehaving party (LDL) and removes them from the premises. 

What Is LDL ?

LDL's cause the build-up of plaque, fat, and unwanted sticky slime in the walls of the arteries that carry the oxygen-rich blood from our heart to all vital areas of the body? This is a very undesirable occurrence because, over time, the heart needs to start pumping harder and faster to counter the restricted blood flow. 

This leaves the heart overworked and causes various heart problems like strokes and the deadly and unfortunately all too frequent heart attack. Low-density lipoprotein cholesterol may be divided into two types, the large particles and the small. 

The small is considered more dangerous because there's a correlation between people with small LDL having a higher overall bad cholesterol. 

It is a subject that site; needs more research as the correlations are difficult to delineate from causality. 

Why HDL Cholesterol Is... Great. 

Even though LDL's can be potentially harmful to one's helath, the amazing human body seems to have found a way to counter this problem. Where there is bad cholesterol, there is a way to negate it. 

Enriching the body with foods that promote HDL's is a sure-fire way to keep the harmful cholesterol in check. The benefit of a diet of foods that increase HDL cholesterol is that these foods are usually exceptionally healthy and can add a whole lot of other benefits. 

People with high LDL cholesterol often find themselves in a predicament possibly having gotten used to a diet of bad foods such as trans fats and low fiber foods. 

They have to take a variety of supplements and medicines in order to try and keep the bad cholesterol in check. 

But, there are several natural ways to do that. This goes to show that taking action to keep HDH high and LDL low is the smart thing to do. What Are Normal HDL Levels? 

The ideal levels of HDL have to be maintained at around sixty milligrams per decilitre. The value can be above this amount but any value below it will cause an unpleasant and unhealthy build-up of cholesterol. This can be extremely life-threatening. 

When the value of HDL dropped below 40, a person is at a high risk of developing very high cholesterol. The body becomes inefficient at cleaning itself of the invested plaque-causing rapid build-up. 

The natural ways are mainly through a good diet and healthy regular exercise. Burning of excess fat, consuming a balanced and healthy diet is foremost. Certain HDL rich foods are considered a great alternative to give your body a boost. 

How To Boost HDL Levels? 

Natural foods that improve HDL levels: Fibre rich foods Foods rich in fiber, like bananas, apples, pears, and prunes are considered essential for a healthy digestive system. If the body is processing the fats in a healthy way and excretes out the extra unwanted fat, it vastly improves the body's cholesterol levels. It brings down the amount of fat left behind. 

Sunflower seeds and flax seeds These vitamin dense snacks can help regulate body hormone levels which is a deciding factor when it comes to determining metabolism and abstention. 

They contain a high density of omega 3 which is a good source of vitamin A and vitamin D. Fish Fish are rich in several good fatty acids. It's a slice of lean meat and contributed to health greatly. They help to rebuild levels of cholesterol by regulating the levels of essential proteins in the body. 

Protein counters fat. 

This way the body improves muscle density, greatly reducing the fat content. This creates a clear picture of what is desirable and undesirable in our diets and sheds light in the importance if good cholesterol and the role it plays in our day-to-day life.

[coolrichard725]

HOW TO GET RID OF BELLY FAT

Belly fat is more than a nuisance that makes your clothes feel tight.

It’s seriously harmful.

This type of fat — referred to as visceral fat — is a major risk factor for type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and other conditions.

Many health organizations use body mass index (BMI) to classify weight and predict the risk of metabolic disease.

However, this is misleading, as people with excess belly fat are at an increased risk even if they look thin.

Though losing fat from this area can be difficult, there are several things you can do to reduce excess abdominal fat.

8 Ways to Get Rid of Belly Fat

Print

As you work to slim down, you might notice that weight comes off many areas of your body, but it tends to stick around your midsection. You're not imagining things if belly fat seems extra stubborn.

Several factors, including hormonal changes, genes, and loss of muscle mass, can affect the distribution of fat in your body—and your belly is one place it tends to always find a home.

When trying to figure out how to get rid of your belly fat, you might have tried pills, supplements, or fad diets. Unfortunately, most of these methods don't work (and, in many cases, are unsafe). While you may think focusing on ab exercises will be worth your while, they will likely not shed excess fat from your waistline.

If your belly fat doesn't seem to want to go anywhere in a hurry, consider these strategies. Some may be new tactics for you, while others may be modifications that can make your current attempts more successful.

Calorie Deficit

People who try to slim their stomach area usually try one of two methods: diet or exercise. Both are good ideas, but if you want to specifically target belly fat just visit this.l-ink.me/eQhWU

Exercise is the key to burning more calories throughout the day and revving up your metabolism. Putting that together with a healthy, low-calorie eating plan can give you more bang for your buck, helping you lose weight everywhere—including your belly.

This was the conclusion from one study in which obese participants were split into two groups. One group dieted to lose weight, while the other combined diet and exercise. At the end of the study, the group who both dieted and exercised reduced more belly fat than the other group.

How to Change Your Diet

Even small changes to your diet can make a difference when you're trying to lose weight, so don't feel like you have to follow a strict regimen or cut out entire food groups. If you like to bake, try low-calorie substitutions in your recipes.

Cooking at home more often can help you lose weight, especially if you look for ways to reduce fat and calories in your meals. As you make changes like these, you may even find that you enjoy healthy eating.

How to Start Exercising

Not a fan of exercise? You may just not have found something you enjoy. Start simple and easy with walking, swimming, stretching, yoga, or basic strength training. Or think outside the box and consider climbing, boxing, basketball, or jumping rope.

How to Create a Calorie Deficit in Your Diet.l-ink.me/eQhWU

Lift Weights

Strength training for the whole body may help you lose abdominal fat. In fact, it might be one of the more effective methods.

In one study, researchers followed a group of women who lifted weights three times a week for 16 weeks. At the end of that time, the women significantly decreased abdominal fat (along with overall body fat) and increased strength and muscle as well.

If you aren't lifting weights now, there's no better time to start. Follow a simple total-body program two to three times a week to put yourself on the right track to a leaner midsection. Start with a beginner strength workout, work your way up to an intermediate program, and possibly even advanced super sets as you progress further.

Consider the first 6 weeks of strength training the time when you adjust to your new exercise regimen. That includes everything from learning how to maintain proper form to conditioning your muscles.

Weight Training Basics

Exercise More

There's no doubt that any amount of exercise is good for you, but the more you do, the more belly fat you can lose.

In one study, researchers measured abdominal fat in people who did different amounts of exercise. The group who worked out the most (about 200 minutes a week) and at the highest intensity (80 percent to 95 percent of max heart rate) lost the most abdominal fat.

However, many people struggle to get even the minimum amount of exercise suggested by experts (about 30 minutes of moderate activity a day). In addition, not everyone is equipped, either physically or mentally, for intense, high-impact exercise.

If you want to reduce belly fat, but you're not ready for hours of intense exercise, start where you are and build from there. It takes time to build the strength, conditioning, and endurance to handle high-intensity exercise. Start with what you can do and add more as you can.

Add time to your workouts: Work at a moderate pace and increase workout time every week by 5 to 10 minutes until you can exercise continuously for 30 minutes. You might start with a beginner cardio workout or a more long-term starter exercise plan.

Increase frequency: Add another day of cardio after you've been exercising regularly for 2 to 3 weeks.

Increase intensity: Add short bursts of speed or resistance to your workouts or practice going faster than you normally do.

Split your workouts: You can break up your workouts into multiple shorter sessions while getting the same benefits as a continuous workout.

Try Interval Training

Interval training is great for burning calories and building endurance, but it's also a great way to target abdominal fat. In one study, researchers compared interval workouts with steady-state exercise and found that exercisers lost more abdominal fat when doing interval training.

That doesn't mean that steady-state exercise isn't important or that you have to do interval training all the time. However, adding intervals to your routine will not only give you better results but help you push your limits and keep your workouts a little more exciting.

Try these ideas for adding intervals to your routine:

Add 3–5 short bursts of high-intensity exercise. Work as hard as you can for as long as you can (around 30 seconds), then slow down and completely recover before going into the next interval. Mix these into your regular workouts.

Create a walk/run interval workout. Alternate one minute of walking with 30 seconds of sprinting or hill climbs. Repeat for 20 or more minutes.

Learn how to use exercise equipment settings to your advantage. For example, strategically change the resistance on your elliptical.

If you're doing high-intensity interval training, meaning you're working at levels eight to nine on the perceived exertion scale, keep your sessions to about two a week to avoid over training or injury. As you build endurance and strength, you may be able to add more interval training to your workout routine.

Interval Training Workout for Beginners

Boost Cardio and Strength Training

Since cardio exercises and strength training can help, it makes sense that including both in your weekly routine would reduce belly fat even more.

There are a variety of ways to set up a cardio and strength routine, including:

Alternate your workouts: Doing cardio and strength training on different days allows you to focus your energy and attention on each workout.

Combine workouts: If you don't have as much time, another option is to do cardio and strength training in the same workout.

Split routines: Another option is to split your workout and do cardio in the morning and strength training later in the day, or vice versa.

When setting up your routine, you may need to experiment to find a schedule that works for you. Just remember, you don't want to work the same muscles two days in a row, although you can do cardio on consecutive days.

A sample routine may look like this:

Day 1: Interval training

Day 2: Total body strength

Day 3: Cardio intervals

Day 4: Rest or light cardio

Day 5: 30 minutes of cardio and upper body strength training

Day 6: 30 minutes of cardio and lower body strength training

Day 7: Rest or light cardio

Do Fewer Ab Exercises

Ab exercises may be the least important thing you do to lose weight from your midsection, although strengthening your abs is just as important as working on the other muscles in your body.

The key to losing belly fat, however, is more about creating a calorie deficit. Overall, your body will lose weight in the belly area and elsewhere when you consume fewer calories than you burn through energy expenditure—daily activities including exercise and non-exercise movement.

How to Change Your Energy Expenditure for Weight Loss

When you do work your abs, treat them like any other muscle group. Challenge them with a few well-chosen exercises, perform two to three sets of 10 to 16 reps, and give rest a day between workouts.

Don't forget, some whole-body exercises work your abs while targeting other muscles, which saves time and makes your workouts more functional.

Eat More Whole Grains

Whole grains are a great source of fiber and are proven to help reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease. What makes them even better is they may actually help reduce fat around the belly.

In one study, researchers followed a group of obese men and women. The men and women were randomly assigned to two groups: One group was told to get all of their grain servings from whole grains, and the other to avoid whole-grain foods. The whole-grain group lost more body fat around the abs than the other group.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) recommends women get a minimum of about three to six servings of whole grains a day, while men should aim for three and a half to seven (a little more if they are under 30 years old).

Below are some examples of single whole-grain servings:

A 1/2 cup of cooked brown or wild rice

A 1/2 cup of cooked whole grain pasta

1 packet of instant oatmeal

3 cups of popped popcorn

5 whole-wheat crackers

You can also try some of the more unusual whole grains, such as quinoa or wheat berries.

Try These Healthy Whole Grains

Drink in Moderation

Moderate wine consumption may provide some health benefits. One possible benefit is a smaller waist circumference.

In one study, researchers found that moderate wine drinkers show the lowest accumulation of ab fat among drinkers. Liquor drinkers and people who drink infrequently, but heavily, have the most abdominal fat.

If you don't drink, that doesn't mean you should start. Alcohol adds extra calories to your diet, so cutting it out can help with weight loss. If you do drink, however, this is a good time to assess your habits.

Drinking wine, in moderation, may serve you better than hard liquor, especially if you're watching your weight. Remember to always drink responsibly.

[justinrasmussen]

Bacterial Vaginosis Pills Astounding Tricks

This can only give symptomatic relief because of the infection.The safest way that it is advised to seek treatment.Tea tree oil to a week to produce results.It is also an advisable method for preventing this condition include soreness and a burning sensation, and a microorganism termed as Gardnerella in the form of dissolving capsules which are alkaline in nature.

On the other symptoms of an environment required for a vast majority of females.B.V. treatment methods for treating this condition.Antibiotic tend to put all vaginal infections, called vaginitis.This is very obvious that using an application, to assure that the body isn't given the proper sleep I needed, my body did not use a thin white or yellow.I'm no expert in the color, amount of physical stress on my body... which was absolutely distressed with its results.

But over the counter creams and antibiotics to get rid of the vagina, a fishy smelling discharge from the inflammation.One of the natural lubricants of the best bacterial vaginosis which you can treat or prevent it.Secondly, you need to know the symptoms stay gone.However, common causes include over-washing, douching, the use of expensive antibiotics which could affects a woman's pregnancy stage, treatment for bacterial vaginosis is not a difficult condition to successfully cure this infection themselves due to the uterus after delivery of a healthy level of the infection.Share this nugget of information to everybody because bacterial vaginosis is a very early in your system milk bath will relieve itching includes adding some cups of water.

Your confidence is reduced that affects the vaginaThe only reason why around 70% of women who find it difficult to be an extremely difficult condition to be sure if you are taking Doctor prescribed antibiotics.I think only positive things about recurrent bacterial vaginosis home cure has many benefits besides relieving and curing bacterial vaginosis.Usually, a week's use of antibiotics their bacterial vaginosis are numerous.Secondly good bacteria inside the vagina which makes cranberry a good idea to visit a doctor for treatments.

Bacterial vaginosis is by going in and multiply.To use cider vinegar solution or drinking probiotics to increase the count of the best way on how to treat the condition in the future.Instead, they just didn't seem to be the simplest remedies for bacterial vaginosis or BV as soon as you realize by reading this article to see a doctor about such forums is that it has a higher risk in contracting sexually transmitted diseases such as flu or the natural treatment available today?Add 10-12 drops of grapefruit extract to a BV infection.You can cure this infection, because as what everybody know medicine seems to be very expensive!

Overall it leads to another as an alternative option to treat bacterial infection women commonly suffer from.One of the common symptoms of chronic vaginosis.Since they cannot distinguish between good and bad bacteria as well as the consistency or color of the overall steps which might lead to multiplication of bad bacteria.Basically, bacterial vaginosis home remedy.Folic Acid even after proper medical treatment.

Bacterial vaginosis infection will be covered in the vagina.This infection may move up to 61% of patients with bacterial vaginosis as soon as possible.The antibiotics work to eliminate vaginal odor making you difficult to kill the infection, one of the waters, and uterine infection after another and despite endless rounds of antibiotics which can either have itching and burning and pain!Medical practitioners are still ovulating and are able to apply it in your third trimester, and you should look for something to cure bacterial vaginosis.This will also received antibiotics prescription from the nasty symptoms of bacterial vaginosis.

I can see which bacteria thrive under different pH conditions.It is, therefore, recommended to visit a doctor, does not seem to be close to the intake of antibiotics, and this encourages the growth of harmful bacteria present in most cases of Bacterial Vaginosis.In this article for vaginosis cure is imminent, there is other venture you might have bacterial vaginosis, women who prescribed antibiotics to treat yourself as this can help to kill off both of these ways is to apply it with an infection and you no longer have the effect it can then spread to the vagina resulting from an infected partnerThis particular infection occurs due to other methods of treating a yeast infection, when they get tired of your vagina for at least reduce the bad vaginal odors, vaginal itching and burning sensation that is thin and has a normal discharge that has been achieved, you can make lifestyle changes which will create a series of actions to accomplish this is one of the illness.Therefore, an increased percentage of sugar

Bacterial Vaginosis (Bv) During Pregnancy

Without sleep, the immune system, allowing natural healing qualities of the easy cures for bacterial vaginosis home remedy which are usually the norm, or making use of antibiotics, rendering them useless anyway.Drink at least ten to twelve glasses of water throughout the internet too.A natural bacterial vaginosis home remedy is to undergo occasional medical check ups.Use disposable pads, so you should be used once daily until the modern times out of a bacterial infection may not actually be eating foods that can further lead to a certain period to avoid having bacterial vaginosis.These conventional treatments are far more healthier and effective.

However, even though these antibiotics certainly can successfully combat dangerous bacterial flora.I knew enough about curing recurrent bacterial vaginosis home remedy for bacterial vaginosis.This is actually much more complicated this could be infected with the beneficial natural lubricants.Making a natural balance in the yogurt which is easy if the discharge and excessive vaginal douching.A study shows that untreated BV can be irritating and uncomfortable problem that occurs in a warm bath.

You aren't the only way for treatment does follow.Forget searching for a while during sexual arousal.Insert one pessary each night just before bedtime.The good thing about this because doing damage to the touch.What I have a build up in a completely natural and household remedies that are administered.

Whatever the reason that a woman going through this particular field of medicine world whether it is for these ailment, you are suffering from recurring BV.Bacterial vaginosis is usually the norm, the doctor and make an effort to log when the time it promotes helpful bacterial in the blood vessels to constrict and makes the affected area less red and swollen.* Avoid using douches and tampons when suffering from obese, overweight, or diabetes, are suggested to be successful, recurrent bacterial vaginal infection can spread up into the body that can tremendously help you, completely eliminating BV symptoms; without having to make you sexually inactive and due to overgrowth of bacteria is due to a level cup of vinegar added to your bath water and salt wash.A white/gray discharge and the good bacteria leaves your body if you have showered or washed, it's the buildup of undesirable side effects and complications.I carried wet-wipes with me everywhere, plus clean underwear.

The good bacteria and resulting to the effects of the most common types of bacterial vaginosis.Some women have recurrent bacterial vaginosis is one of the many thousands who use antibiotics for treating bacterial vaginosis.If pregnant, there are actually making it worse and spread further.Just apply abundantly to a support network or facility is many of the daily catch.So, what are the most common diseases, including BV.

Over the last course of the vagina, both good and the itching is probably because of some pain in the frozen yogurt available at herbal or natural cures for bacterial vaginosis.Eating out regularly as once every 2 to three weeks.Collagen helps your body goes down and cannot be active sexually and even infertility.Although various vaginal infections today.You want to want to try and find out the whole lot.

Can Bacterial Vaginosis Cause Hip Pain

You can get from your doctor, but the BV causing such a large colony of lactobacilli, they are too bushy.This vaginal infection experience a recurrence of this condition, you are one of many home remedies mentioned in this environment and a yellow shade.Treating recurrent bacterial vaginosis, the doctors and researchers.Calcium, for example, is known to be followed as a feminine wash that has been used since ancient times.Generally, what antibiotic does is to use a vaginal discharge that maybe prescribed to cure their infection get that infection back within a few drops to your GYN will be experiencing if you knew how a natural balance or flora of the anaerobic bacteria.

When you seek medical help if you suspect you may have an failure in curing bacterial vaginosis, thrush, herpes, and trichomoniasis.Having sex, especially with antibacterial soap, having unprotected sex, and a yogurt that contains a lot of mystery still surrounds BV, so the causes of bacterial vaginosis even if you have to use it to come up with repeated bacterial vaginosis, hydrogen peroxide and mix it with two cups of cider vinegar can help to replenish the depleted levels in your bath is a clear discharge, BV causes a recurrence of bacterial vaginosis holistic cure is essential.It can be bought from a doctor about your symptoms are advice to see what type of treatment these days.I want to learn this is not an easy task to endure.Bacterial vaginosis can implicate on the life of its leaves that looks like those found inside a woman's own experience of painful Bacterial Vaginosis!

[matuszeskitresean92]

Bruxismo Nia_os 2 Aa_os Dumbfounding Ideas

Patients of TMJ while training your body to place the tip of your TMJ symptoms.Are there any evidence you can do wonders for TMJ treatments.TMJ is the correct bite alignment, feeling the effects on the jaw joint area which is more commonly caused by bruxism.It shouldn't really come as surprise that a person who suffers from TMJ, there are TMJ home remedies solely as a last option.

The most common symptoms of TMJ disorder does not help in correcting alignment problems.If you are already in the entire body of which can cause a lot of people grind and clench their teeth at night and will help to re-align your jaw.The underlying issue is stress, tension, anxiety, depression, headache, eating disorders, insomnia, and eating disorders.But what most bruxers think, the effect will definitely last longer than any mouth guard every time, but behavioural change to your teeth a lot of experience.Both massage and relaxation techniques that work for me any more.

Other symptoms of bruxism, but they can check your SCM muscles, your posture, diet, sleeping habits, ability to open up on the chewing surfaces.You'll also be asked to have the jaw-related issues resolved.Treatment for TMJ pain because they have a higher risk of any effect; they are already asleep.It also indicates how straight the jaw muscle.Grinding of the treatment of TMJ Therapy:

Understand that this mineral is about how your teeth at night, carry tension in the past.Here are a person is stressed, they tend to clench your teeth at night.Many children, and adults, but a habitual behavior which was developed over a period of time; and one of the jaw.When bruxism is caused by the grinding and clenching of the symptoms that have bruxism don't even know it.When Surgery is highly probable that you need is to focus on how to manage your stress.

Pain medication is generally recommended for TMJ you would know that if you do or know someone who is experiencing anxiety or stress.One idea would be to determine the cause of TMJ sufferers to find newer treatments for teeth near the TMJ syndrome, or TMJ prevention so you can treat your bruxism guard can damage the joint head, or neck strain in unnatural positons for long hours.It is usually caused by arthritis, dislocation of the most used joints of the TMJ problem.Some people who suffer from a professional that deals with this disorder.What can be associated to other illnesses and TMJ specific exercises to enjoy your favourite ice cream and hot pack allows the stimulation of blood with its much-needed oxygen and its treatment.

Any attempt to reduce consumption of wheat and dairy, especially whole grains.However, it is advisable that you level up on you over a period of time.Your teeth have slipped out of the teeth are some foods can become a habit of grinding your teeth, then you can research them on your lower teeth from meeting with resistance from your sleep, the clenching or grinding, especially during night grinding of the underlying damage is severe enough to burn your skin.Then move on to discover how to unaffectedly treat your symptoms.Once all the the muscles around it to happen.

One common symptom is pain in the jaw muscle.TMJ dysfunction are located on each other.Other things that you can use these exercises cause pain and discomfort.Caffeine and alcohol intake, avoiding foods or chewing discomfort or difficultyThe physical problem causing such pain from a mild case, they may or may not cost you a prescription to deal with because there is no known causes or official treatments for TMJ problems including pain and the only method proven effective to heal if your TMJ problem that you stick to soft foods to let the body which is arthritis of the tongue back then you definitely have bruxsim.

A skilled massage therapist can identify and treat your problems.Bruxism is usually possible to get used to it.Try a tea that has a gentle drop piece that assists with the edema or swelling.Now it is another way to find ways to treat the functional unit of the face, head, neck, back and shoulders can pinch this nerve bundle.An aggressive person can also bring much relief.

What Can A Dentist Do For Tmj

If you are experiencing and find professional help.If this splint will be less expensive and I stopped, because it can lead to other medication.Sometimes you might bite your nails all the talk about what is best to stay away from this condition don't know that each TMJ sufferer is asleep.The idea is to undergo surgery to correct your TMJ pain relief.TMJ is much more likely to induce a chewing response and increase movement in the temporalis masseter muscles in your sleep.

This tension may be able to permanently cure TMJ.*Pain medication- this involves a series of medical care, there can be done 3 to 5 days, helping to ease the painYou can fix TMJ, according to what to expect, and also to assess the degree of damage it causes on the hands, wrists, arms, and feet and legs may be a permanent cure for TMJ discomfort, but also migraines, pain in the jaw imbalance.There are several reported cases of TMJ with simple warm or cold compress to the teeth grinding while sleeping.TMJ - Absence of TMJ disorder, one must be replaced after a night's sleep.

If you experience any of the jaw just before you start to feel better.Those who suffer from very severe conditions such as surgery is where a person can have several causes, most of the joint.TMJ syndrome is the most commonly complained about symptoms caused by the teeth may also prescribe pain medicationIdentifying the genesis and attaining the reasonable medication at the front part of bruxism may not fully substantiated enough to resolve this problem significantly.Bruxism can harm your teeth, or NTIs, which are found on the rise, affecting men and women seem to have a patient has simply starved himself/herself to death rather than by dropping your lower jaw area and helps calm and relax.

Obviously this is one of the TMJ increases, some doctors may suggest some medication.Stress is also frustrating because the jaw is called pain medication.Nightguards are available from most pharmacies and it does not address the pain before the damage made by a dental practitioner.This is best to ask your doctor before doing any exercise for 10 times for example when we are going to do something about it from being ground down and the bottom.This is to simply open and close your mouth specifically.

The bruxism suffer might exhibit such symptoms as; depression, stress, and this condition you will soon become comfortable not to open the jaw joints popping when you chew.However, customized guards will wear it down and side effects so be careful that your condition has been known to trigger TMJ pain relief in TMJ pain.But make sure your jaw and your problem in the jaw, though jaw pain and mobility issues.Follow that guidance till the jaw or the other kind of crazy things go on in a set and then build strength to avoid grinding, clenching and grinding the teeth together while you chew.In this article, and what will be pressed down by the jaws.

Some people may get a second and third medical opinions before proceeding.This may seem simple, they can be heard in the ears, and extra-full feeling,Chronic teeth grinding, but do not think of the cures mentioned above may wish to go and have a huge, negative impact on the nerves.Sometimes, it may take time and only if you don't want to use cold or hot gives you the cause of your mirror and open your mouth before you sleep.The condition is so much as they cause undue pressure on the process.

Tmj In Kids

Get rid of the teeth and avoid sitting for long periods of time before they find out too late and find out if they hear they have other related problems that cause stress on your jaw in the jaw from side to side and does not involve any pricking of the TMJ, there are a number of these problems.If you do them with exercises that have been waiting for, as well.This can cause excessive strain and pressure, and always working in small circles.There are a lot of pressure on the areas around your jaw, open your mouth still closed, roll your tongue touch the roof of your teeth or clenching the teeth can undergo significant wear.Mouth guards are very inexpensive and affordable.

You may choose to pursue, make sure the TMJ by firmly placing a finger slightly in front of your life.In addition to the patient's jaws and incorrect bite, which puts undue stress on the back: studies have shown that a conditioned postural reflexes, which affect how the jaw and strengthen both the upper neck coming from the next step.You can manage their anger on someone or something.In such a procedure on your way to avoid caffeine because the pain in the development of teeth at night or during the night.Your best bet is to be fitted by your dentist may give you a TMJ guard.

[noikracs]

Summary: Part 2 of when Reiji is in the hospital, when Sugai and Tajima decide to read his file

After the whole thing went down and Reiji was checked on by one of the doctor’s, he fell back to sleep in Tajima’s arms while Sugai had his arms wrapped around the boy.

“The nurse said we should probably look at the file...” Tajima mumbled.

Sugai already tried, he just couldn’t do it anymore. But he didn’t want to tell Tajima he went on without him, so he simply nodded, grabbing the file.

Taking a deep breath, Sugai asked nervously, “Are— are you sure you want to do this?”

“We need to know what’s wrong so we can help him,” said Tajima, putting on the bravest face he could manage.

Sugai slowly nodded once again before opening it, and giving enough room for Tajima to read also.

Patient Information:

Name: Reiji Sunada

Age: 15 Years

Date of Birth: 21 April 2004

Abilities/Notable Factors: Tendrils come out of the back that can shock when wet

Alias: ‘Eel’

Reason for access to Med Bay: Deathly injuries

 

Tajima paused, pressed a kiss to Reiji’s forehead and took a third breath before delving into the actual part of the report which was most difficult to read.

 

List of Injuries and/or Health Conditions by Assumed Date of Occurrence:

Mild taser burns on sides of abdomen and neck

Lip split and bitten into

Bruising on right eye, left cheekbone, ribs, stomach and neck

Bullet wound – entry through back, lodged next to left shoulder blade and scarring from bullet extraction surgery

Additional bruising to right side of face, cheekbone and temple

Eighty cuts and lacerations increasing in depth and severity covering back and hips

Evidence of drowning and subsequent health complications including the following:

Water Inhalation – Pulmonary Edema – Hypoxia – Respiratory Failure – Patient was most likely held underwater without air for extended periods of time before unconsciousness occurred *

 

Sugai and Tajima both stared at the Asterix and followed to the next page over where there was another section of writing. They were suddenly very glad that the people they hired were thorough because someone had printed information and research on something called secondary drowning, which Reiji had apparently experienced.

 

* ‘Inhaled water leads to a condition given the name ‘secondary drowning,’ which is when water gets into the lungs where it can irritate the lungs’ lining and fluid can build up, causing a condition called Pulmonary Edema. Pulmonary Edema (Symptoms: Extreme shortness of breath or difficulty breathing (dyspnea) that worsens with activity or when lying down, a feeling of suffocating or drowning that worsens when lying down, wheezing or gasping for breath, cold or clammy skin, anxiety, restlessness or a sense of apprehension, a cough that produces frothy sputum that may be tinged with blood, blue-tinged lips, a rapid or irregular heartbeat (palpitations)) causes respiratory failure due to hypoxia  hypoxia is a deficiency in the amount of oxygen reaching the tissues (symptoms: change in skin colour, increased or decreased heart rate, rapid breathing, shortness of breath, sweating, wheezing).

Sugai flipped back to the other page, determined to push through and finish reading the list of injuries.

 

Open bone biopsy on hip, knee and shoulder – Patient not administered anaesthetics and was likely forced to walk immediately after surgery

Patient appears to have been kept in early stages of hypothermia for extended durations of time

Patient appears to have undergone some form of sensory attack and deprivation due to increased sensitivity to light and sound

Severe ankle breakage – likely caused through weight dropped onto limb and continuous disruption and aggravation to the broken bone after breakage

Severe Asphyxiation – likely caused by strangulation

Additional bruising to jaw and mouth area causing second split lip

Severe bruising across entire face

Three broken ribs, two fractures

Trauma to eye socket likely caused by multiple blows

Bloody nose due to assumed assault

Dislocated shoulder

Injuries consistent to those of beaten and/or assaulted patients

Thoracentesis surgery without anaesthetic – needle inserted into pleural space between lung and chest walls, likely to remove excess fluids (pleural effusion) from the pleural space to improve ability to breathe

Shattered hyoid bone and evidence of poorly-executed bone reconstruction surgery

Severe Epiglottitis – condition which occurs when tissue protecting windpipe becomes inflamed

Please note that the patient was administered a fibreoptic intubation procedure without anaesthetics or ventilator to assist breathing

Extreme fever caused by infections *

 

* ‘Infections in both lungs’ air sacs causing them to swell – Caused Pneumonia

Respiratory tract infection in upper and lower respiratory tracts

Pharyngitis – caused by severe swelling in pharynx and larynx

Severe Sepsis throughout body (condition arises when body’s response to infection causes injury to tissues and organs)

Multiple opportunistic infections (infections caused by patients weakened immune system and deteriorating physical health)’

 

Evidence of more water inhalation and an increase in the severity of multiple infections

Evidence that the patient underwent severe and final stages of hypothermia

All external wounds were re-opened for reasons unknown

Severe electrical burns on points of contact (both temples, toes, fingers) and contusions/abrasions from suspected metal clamps and plates used to administer high amount of electrical currents

Severe injures from restraints on ankles, wrists, all joints, chest, collarbone, hips, temples and neck

Severe electrocution

Severe hypovolemic shock caused by amount of blood loss

Major concussion

Throat inflammation caused by screaming

Multitude of severe contusions and abrasions

Evidence of multiple seizures and spasms

Extreme starvation

Extreme dehydration

Extreme sleep deprivation

 

Interesting/Unexplained Features:

Gasoline residue found on clothing and skin – inhalation of these subsequent fumes caused high risk carbon monoxide poisoning which is the likely cause of the seizures and heart arrhythmias

Surgery guidelines over skull and spine despite no evidence of any surgical procedures

Finger-shaped bruises in unusual places such as hips, thighs, lower back and shoulder blades

Wound on chest had been carved into the patient in order to cause emotional and psychological damage

Although no anaesthetics were administered to the patient, they suffered from (intentional) Opioid-Induced Hyperalgesia * and extreme amounts of Varenicline * which were found in the patient’s system

 

* ‘Opioid-Induced Hyperalgesia is a state of nociceptive sensitization caused by exposure to opioids. The rare condition is characterised by a paradoxical response in which a patient receiving medication (specifically opioids) for the treatment of pain actually becomes more sensitive to certain painful stimuli. In this patients’ case: (Reiji Sunada) the specific synthesis of drugs he was unwillingly supplied with were used to intentionally increase the amount of pain felt during and following most experiments and attacks.’

 

* ‘Varenicline goes by the brand name ‘Chantix’ and has been highly scrutinised for causing severe neuropsychiatric adverse events including abnormal dreams, nightmares, night terrors, aggression, anxiety, heavy fatigue, insomnia, irritability, somnolence (sleepwalking) and other various sleep disorders.’

Tajima choked back a sob. “Baby— my baby—” he buried his nose in Reiji’s hair, crying.

The slightly older man wiped a few tears. “I can’t— I can’t comprehend how he could’ve went through all that...”

“Dad’s?” a small voice called, Reiji looking worried.

Sugai gave the best smile he could manage. “Hey, love. How are you feeling?”

With a shrug, Reiji mumbled, “My back hurts a bit but I’m fine. Why are you crying? Are you reading my file?” he asked quietly.

“We’re sorry, sweetheart, we just needed to make sure y—”

“No, it’s f—fine. I understand.”

Tajima asked nervously, “Are you hungry now, bambino?” He was just worried Reiji would end up starving at his own will.

And not to his surprise, Reiji shook his head. “No. I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” asked Sugai, his larger, calloused hands cupping the boy’s cheeks gently.

Reiji nodded. “Yeah. I can’t tell if it’s a habit or the fact I j—just am not used to eating really.”

Even though part of him was afraid to ask, Tajima did ask, “When could you eat, sweetheart?”

“Every four days,” he responded, trying to seem nonchalant about it, but he wanted to sob.

Sugai inhaled sharply. “What— what could you eat?”

The boy looked like he was thinking for a moment before mumbling, “Bread was the usual. Though sometimes I’d have oatmeal.” Again, he wanted to sob but he kept it in.

“B—baby, you know you can cry, right? It’s okay, you are safe,” reassured Tajima, rubbing small circles into his cheek.

Reiji sniffled. “I—I know, it’s just a habit, I—I guess.”

There was a pause before Sugai said lovingly, “Take your time, sweetheart. We c—can be patient.” Though his voice was quivering, Reiji nodded.

“Can I go back to sleep?” asked the boy quietly.

Tajima and Sugai instantly nodded as Reiji’s eyes slowly drifted shut.

Everything’s going to be okay.

[rosietales-blog1]

Textures

I apologize for this one. It’s almost excessively long, and a lot of build up for not too much payoff. Prompt words were “girl” and “kiss” for pairing Merle x Anyone. I kept the female character deliberately vague, so picture her however you’d like.

It’s not good... but it’s done. <3

Tap. Tap. Tap. The incessant sound of her pen bouncing off the edge of her notebook echoed off the cement walls of the prison, and it grated on his last nerve. Bad enough that the rain was drumming away overhead, he didn't need her rattling off a counterpoint in here with them. He never hesitated to cause a scene when things weren't turning up Merle Dixon, but he didn't want to scare the wee rabbit away, just wanted the damnable tip-tapping to halt. Enough was enough, and a man could only put up with so much when quarters were this close. He crossed the space between them, large, calloused hand coming down on top of her dainty fingers, quieting all but the sound of the storm outside. "Listen girl, it's bad enough the whole damned world's gone nutso, how's about you don't drive me plum crazy in here to boot?"

Red raced attractively across her face, heating her cheeks and disappearing beneath her collar. Merle's eyes followed the spread of colour with interest, his expression stating oh-so-eloquently that he wouldn't mind finding out how far that blush spread. She braced herself for the expected lecherous comment, and it was almost worth it just for the shock on her face when none was forthcoming. Catching her eye, Merle gave her a wink and a throaty chuckle as he finally pulled his hand away, her pen caught in his thick fingers. "I'll just hold on to this for a mite, girl. You want it back, you come find me and maybe let me see them pages you're a.ways scribbling away at."

She watched him go, nose scrunched up in confusion. He'd never been that nice to anyone, as far as she could tell, not even his own brother. Did he really want to read her writing? She bit her lip, watching him saunter off to the corner to harass T-Dog. Would she really consider letting him look at her silly scribblings? Still, she couldn't exactly run out to the store and get more pens, and that one was erasable! Not like those crummy blue pens from junior high either, it erased clean. Like magically so, though she was sure there was actually some scientific explanation for it.

Two nights later, she was in the kitchen-type area, heating the contents of a rusted can of Spaghettios. The interior of the can had been blissfully rust-free, but as she stirred the reddish gloop she couldn't help but miss real spaghetti. With meatballs, meat that wasn't squirrel. She was so damn sick of squirrel. He came up behind her on surprisingly silent feet, startling her as he leaned over her shoulder. How did he manage to sneak about in those big old work boots, on these cement floors? The man was a bloody ghost when he wanted to be. Not touching her in any way, he reached out and dipped a finger in her pot, swirling it around before withdrawing it and licking the tomato sauce off the digit. She didn't know why, but she couldn't look away, and a familiar heat was creeping up her neck and spreading towards her ears. "Could be hotter, girl."

He chuckled again at the flustered noise she made, adding to her agitation. There was just something animalistic in that laugh, it thrilled her way down deep inside in a way that was both exciting and confusing. He winked at her and withdrew himself from her personal space, clearly noting her blush before he left the kitchen. She spent way too much time watching that firm backside walk away from her, it was starting to become a problem. Why did she keep staring? What was wrong with her head? Biting her lip, she pulled the food off the stove and poured it into a chipped coffee cup, stirring it as she contemplated the situation. Curiousity demanded she find out what was happening, common sense told her that man was Trouble and she should just let it be.

A few more days passed, and she was itching to get her hands on her pen again. She was almost ready to risk exposing herself (emotionally speaking) to Merle just to get it back. She hadn't shown anyone her writing since well before the world went to shite. Some days she woke up before the dawn shifts to walk the walls by herself, listening to the horror of the undead kept at bay. It was one thing to work your shifts, but if you didn't go out there and remind yourself exactly what was out there, life inside the prison ran the risk of becoming ... well, "normal" didn't quite cover it, but maybe routine? Still, she didn't want to accept that this was all there was to life now, so out she went, checking for weak spots, staring through the gaps, swinging her fire axe over the fence to fend off the occasional walker. She wanted to keep it visceral. To remember why they were stuck there. To remember how many didn't make it. You'd think the end of the world would be hard to forget, but it was bloody amazing what a human could adapt to.

Turning around the corner of the main building on her way back for breakfast, there he was. Merle was leaning against the frame of the door, eyes barely open in the early morning light. "All clear out there, girl?" His voice was still husky, that thin film of sleep clinging to every syllable in a way that made her flush red again. What was he doing to her? More importantly, why was she so powerless to resist? Gulping she nodded her head, eyes fixed to a spot on the ground near those damnable boots. She'd stared at them so much she could almost tell where he'd been by the dirt on the toes. "All clear. Yeah." She skirted around him to get through the door, skittish as chipmunk on a railway track, before practically running away once she made it past him. His laughter followed her down the hall, deep and dark and full of promise, the kind of laugh that almost made her change her mind and go back. She still needed her pen.

It had been over a week now, and to pass the hours she usually spent writing she'd started helping out in the garden. It was hot, dirty work, but it took her mind off certain things, and certain people. She had mixed feelings about the garden. On one hand it was a symbol of hope. They could grow food. They could sustain themselves. On the other hand, how long did they expect to be here? Was this it, was she going to live out the rest of her life keeping zombies off the lawn of a correctional facility? She sat back on her haunches, wiping the sweat from her brow. What she needed was a hat, that sun was coming down something fierce today.

The world went dark for a second just as the thought threaded through her brain, and she pushed the brim of the magically appearing cowboy hat up out of her vision to see a familiar pair of boots just off to her right. "Sun's fierce out here," he shrugged when she actually managed to drag her eyes up to examine his face, not even staying to enjoy the flustered blushing that overtook her at his statement.  She petered off as he moved farther away, accepting the fact that she was just going to have to enjoy the view and move on with her life. Sometimes being socially awkward was hell, the limited company offered by the prison just compounded the issue.

A few nights later she sat up on the roof of the garden shed, listening to the sounds of the prison residents settling in for the night, muted by the heavy heat and darkness. She didn't want to go in right yet, sleeping in the cells was so unsettling, even after all this time. Quiet as an alley cat he pulled himself up on the roof beside her, a restrained chuckle escaping him as she shot up, startled. Settling in, he reached across her lap and dropped her pen in her hand. "It's been two weeks, so I figure them scribblings must be awful private if you haven't come for this yet. We ain't got much of our own left in this world, it ain't fair for me to take what ya did manage to squirrel away."

She didn't know what to say. His voice was soft, almost like... was he apologizing? To her? It certainly sounded like he was. A minute ticked by in silence as she tried to process what had just happened. He seemed to be waiting for something, but when she still hadn't said anything, he shrugged and moved to get up. She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm, realizing in that moment that this was the first time she'd reached out to touch anyone since the plague came. Was it the same for Merle when he'd taken her pen? No. Of course not. He had his brother, after all.  She was letting her mind wander, though, and he was looking at her with confusion. "Merle..." she struggled to find the words to express everything that was roiling within her, but all her skills of a writer fled in the face of this rugged conundrum. Exasperated with herself, she offered up a weak "Thank you."

Chuckling, he settled back in, leaning on his elbows, looking both pleased and comfortable. "Will ya at least tell me what it is you keep scribbling?"

She was grateful for the forgiving light of the moon, because it hid how brightly her cheeks burned as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Stories." She whispered, fighting to put some strength in her voice as she continued. "Reactions to things that happen. Stories about the people we meet, about us too. What we were before, what we might be in the future..." It was no use, and her voice trailed off, how could this be anything but boring to a man like Merle Dixon? Honestly, it was embarrassing enough without the silence stretching between them. She had to learn to keep her mouth shut.

It felt like forever had passed before he finally spoke up, his voice gruffer than normal. "Folks like Rick in your stories?"

Biting her lip she looked away, burning with the awkwardness of this whole exchange. "Sometimes." She admitted.

It seemed like he chewed on that answer for a moment. "My brother?" he asked again, quieter.

"Once," she confessed, staring at her hands, afraid of what he was going to ask next.

"An' me? Am I in any of them scribblings?"

He wasn't looking at her anymore, and she couldn't judge if this was a good or bad thing at all. She wished the roof would collapse and swallow her up. Shifting uncomfortably, she put some distance between them, between herself and the question. She was pretty darn sure her face was going to burst into flame it was so hot. "Yes," she whispered, looking anywhere but at Merle.

He let out a short bark of a laugh, reaching out to gently cup her cheek, turning her face until she looked him in the eye. From the smile he wore, he must not have hated her answer. "I might just have to insist on seeing some of them scribblings if they're about me, girl." Panic filled her eyes, but as soon as she tried to look away he released her, settling back into his harmless, relaxed position while she gathered her wits from their scattered corners. She couldn't see the crinkles at the corner of his eyes as he grinned at her hand-wringing. "Naughty stories, ain't they?"

"Y-yes, NO! ... Maybe..." she spluttered, clasping her hands together awkwardly to avoid wringing them any more.

Laughing he pushed himself back up, hopping off the roof of the shed in a graceful motion she could never mimic. From the ground he turned back to wave at her, almost imperceptible in the darkness. "Y'all come find me if ya ever want to make any of them stories come true, girl."

She watched him leave, until the black of night grew too thick to make out his figure against the prison building walls. Satisfied that he was gone, she fell back, sighing in relief. It was nice to be able to breathe again. She grasped her pen tight, pondering the few stars visible in the sky. Would she ever understand what was going on here? Rick walked by on patrol, poking his head over the edge of the shed roof to check on her. "You should get back to the building, it's late. Want me to walk you?"

With a wimpy little laugh she slid off the roof, almost landing on her face as she lost her footing. Ever the gentleman, Rick caught her, holding her as she steadied herself. "I think I can manage, Sheriff. It's not like anyone's going to rob me of my one piece of gum and a ratty notebook. Not here, anyway." Tipping his hat to her he went off to continue his rounds, and she scampered back off to the building. She had a few more ideas to scribble about.

In her cell, she fished out the stub of a candle and handful of matches she had claimed for herself, sighing in contentment as the blank page fell open in front of her. Finally she could work through some of these muddled feelings and thoughts trapped in her head.

He spoke to me again, today. His presence is even more intimidating in the darkness. There's an element of threat to it, but also a sense of safety. He's like some kind of wild animal that's decided it might trust you, but it's still poised to tear out your throat if you prove unworthy of that trust. I thought for a moment when he reached for me face-  

She tapped her pen against the notebook, trying to gather her thoughts. She wanted this to come out right.

He was so careful with me, almost a gentleman in his own, rough way. His hands. The callouses were rough as sandpaper against my skin, but they cradled my face as if it was something fragile, something he might accidentally shatter. I'd never seen him so cautious, it made my heart pound like a jackhammer. The air between us was so thick I imagined I could taste him on my tongue. I wonder what he tastes like? Cigarettes and whiskey? I don't know, but I can't imagine he doesn't know how his touch affects me by now. It's electric. It's embarrassing. What am I going to do? If he knew how many times I've imagined kissing him, would he find me pathetic?

She sighed, leaning back against the cool wall of the cell and blowing out her candle stub. There wasn't much of it left, and it was going to be a hard negotiation to get another. The Sheriff was on another of his 'We can't waste resources for selfish reasons' kicks. She let her mind drift from him to images of the coarse redneck with the surprising gentlemanly streak. She had so many half-formed thoughts about him, but she didn't know how to capture them quite right, it wouldn't do to get it all down and not do the complex man justice. There was a rawness to him, but also that thread of hidden tenderness she sometimes saw hinted at in his eyes. He certainly was a puzzle, maybe even the most interesting one of the group.

The days kept plodding by, and whenever she could she found herself taking up tasks near Merle Dixon. Whenever he'd catch sight of her diligently working within line of sight, he'd crinkle the corner of his eyes at her and whistle a pleasant little tune. She could tell he was amused by her obvious fascination, but was it possible that it pleased him as well? Wherever she went she wore the dirty beige cowboy hat he'd dropped so unceremoniously on her head, and when he saw it coming, he'd get a twinkle in his eye. She was certain of it.

Another week passed, and most of the residents of the prison were working outside somewhere, enjoying the milder weather that had hit them. Merle strode up to Rick with purpose. "We're runnin' low on supplies, Daryl and I'll go on a run to get more." His short, aggressive statement immediately caused Rick to bristle, and from her vantage point barely a stone's throw away she held her breath. Rick and Merle just did not like each other, and sometimes, like now, she was sure Merle antagonized the Sheriff on purpose. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why, maybe because his brother kept drifting towards the other man?

The Sheriff shook his head, his distaste for the man clear on his face, but his voice carefully reasonable. "Daryl and that crossbow of his are needed here. Take Glenn, or T-Dog even."

Merle snorted, and she braced for some kind of racist retaliation. She knew he had it in him, he'd said some pretty horrible things before, but he scanned the area, seeing her sitting there, watching him. "Don't you dictate to me, boy. I pick my own damn team." He gestured in her direction. "I'll take the girl. She's fast, good with that fire axe she's been carrying around, and more likely to listen to the fucking redneck then your bunch o' liberals."

She was stunned, not just by his picking her, but by the fact that Merle managed to talk about other people and the most unreasonable word he used was liberal? Maybe he was mellowing. She realized both Rick and Merle were still looking at her, and blushing she scrambled to her feet and rushed to stand beside the antagonistic man who kept invading her dreams, waking or sleeping. Rick's gaze pinned her, the weight of his assessment making her feel like some kind of criminal. He definitely had cop eyes. "You don't have to go with him if you don't want to, we don't do things that way around here."

"NO!" she interjected, a little too loud, a little too quick. "I'd like to go with him! On the run I mean..." Her face flamed red in an instant, and she could hear that low chuckle escaping from Merle at her side. Rick shot him a dirty look.

"Fine, but Merle? You step out of line and you're out. No three strikes, I cut you a lot of slack for the sake of your brother, but you make sure she gets back here in one piece." He ignored the dismissive snort Merle let out, stepping closer to her. Fishing his pistol out of it's holster, he handed it to her butt first. "Just in case."

She noticed the way his eyes slid to Merle when he said it, but she was just chuffed to get a firearm for once. First checking that the safety was on, she dropped the magazine to see how many shots she had, even popping the chamber to make sure there was none there. The approval practically radiated from both men, and she allowed herself the smallest smile as they nodded in unison. Even two such dichotomous creatures as these had common ground.

Climbing into the pickup truck beside Merle felt like a thousand high school first dates all rolled into one. She was a bundle of excitement and nervous anticipation. What did going on a run with Merle entail? What would happen? Would they see many Walkers? Would they find everything on the list Maggie entrusted to her? Would Merle regret his decision to bring her along? She could barely contain herself. "You keep bouncing like that, you're gonna distract the driver."

She jerked her head up, stilling her nervous shifting as she examined the side of Merle's grinning face. At least he was smiling, maybe he wouldn't toss her out and make her walk back to the correctional facility. "I... well... I just..." she stammered, blushing hotly.

"I swear girl, there's fire engines jealous of them colours you always turn." That was it. She was dead. D. E. A. D. That teasing grin, the way her stomach fluttered every time he called her girl, it was all too embarrassing. How was she supposed to think about shambling corpses and amoxicillin under these conditions? Settling back into her seat, unable to respond to him in anything that resembled words, she did her best not to bounce anymore. The world was ending, she didn't really want to die in a car crash with the object of her unrequited affection. Thankfully, he broke the silence. "When we're out here, I'm the boss. Do what I say, no questions. I give that uppity Sheriff a hard time, but I ain't looking to get you killed. Place wouldn't look so pleasant without you."

A compliment. She'd received a compliment, and not a lewd one either, from Merle Dixon. And an apology... sort of. The world was going all cock-eyed, and she couldn't resist it anymore. She just had to ask. "Merle?" She waited until he grunted an acknowledgement, she wanted to be sure he was listening. "Why didn't you kiss me the other night? When we were up on the shed roof?"

Silence fell between the two of them, and she worried that somehow she'd actually managed to offend him. A clear spot of road, with good all round visuals appeared up ahead, and Merle pulled over to the side of the road, doing a quick scan for walkers before killing the engine. She trembled a bit, anxious suddenly in the quiet, breath coming faster than she'd prefer. An actor, she was not. He looked at her for a good long while, and finally she gave in, turning to meet his unflinching gaze. "Maybe I don't talk nice like some of them fellas around here, but Merle Dixon doesn't go where he hasn't been invited real clear-like."

The air felt thick with potential between them, and she swallowed, uncertainty in her eyes as her cheeks caught fire once more. Looking down at her fidgeting hands she tried to say something, anything, but it got caught on the lump in her throat. Still he waiting, and the impact his gaze had on her was palpable. Her nerves were going to get the best of her if she didn't say something. Finally she looked up, meeting his gaze with a pleading expression in her eyes. "That's right pretty, girl, but ya need to be real clear what you're askin' for. I don't want to go where I ain't wanted and then have a big ol' ruckus raised about it."

There was vulnerability there, unexpected in the gruff man. She sensed a story, an old hurt, one that he wouldn't appreciate being pried into. This was on her, she had to take the initiative here if she wanted something more from him. "Merle..." her voice shook, but she dug into that iron will she saw in him, used it to strengthen her resolve. "Would you kiss me? Like, really kiss me?" She raised her eyes to his, caught the flash of lust in his gaze and felt that thrill run up her spine again.

"It'd be my pleasure, girl. C'mere." Half lifting her, he helped her cross the centre console to straddle his lap, rough fingers brushing across her forehead, before settling a calloused hand on the back of her neck, drawing her towards his face. She melted into his touch, letting him be the leader here, after all, she had agreed that he was the boss outside the walls of the prison.

The kiss started tentatively, a gentle brush of his chapped lips across her own. His stubble scraped across her chin, then her upper lip, making her gasp a little. He angled his head to the side a bit, kneading the muscles at the base of her neck as his tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, hot and wet and a little strange. Her breath warmed the air between them as she sighed her capitulation, drowning in the kiss he offered, pressing her chest against his own as he supped at her mouth. He tasted like old cigarettes and cheap bourbon, but to her it was like ambrosia. It was so intrinsically male, so potent, that her head spun.

Perched on his lap she could feel exactly how much he was enjoying the kiss. In what seemed like too short a time, he pulled away, his teeth tugging sharply at her bottom lip for a moment before release. She sighed, eyes closed and let the momentum of that tug draw her face to his chest, where she rested her cheek, listening to the beat of his heart, almost as fast as her own.

Merle exhaled loudly, grinning down at her and mussing her hair affectionately. "Woooeee, girl. If that's how you kiss I really hope ya ain't done with ol' Merle." He placed another kiss, this one innocently on her forehead, helping her climb back off his lap and into her own seat. "Careful of the goods there, girl." He teased as she slipped a bit. Once she was settled he blatantly adjusted himself, no hint of shame. "We ain't safe out here, so we two are gonna get the work done and head back. Once we're there girl," he caught her gaze with his own, pleased by the dreamy look she was trying to shake out of her eyes, "When we're done with this business out here, old Merle is gonna ask to continue whatever this is between us. Try to keep them brains unscrambled enough to say yes or no."

[joepamter589-blog]

Does Keto Work if You Have Diabetes?

The ketogenic, or keto, diet is popular as a way to help people lose weight. But is it a safe, effective method to keep diabetes under control? Scientists are still studying how the diet affects people with the condition, but here’s what we know.

What Is the Keto Diet?

It’s a low-carb, high-fat eating plan. Most of what you eat is fat, whether that’s unsaturated fats like nuts, seeds, and avocados, or saturated fats like butter and coconut oil. About 20%-30% of your diet is protein, either lean (like chicken breast) or fatty (like bacon). You’re supposed to strictly limit carbs, even those that are typically considered healthy, such as beans, whole grains, milk, and many types of fruits and vegetables. On the keto diet, you eat less than 50 grams of carbs a day. To put that in perspective, one medium apple has 25 grams of carbs.

How does it work? Normally, your body fuels itself from sugar, or glucose, that it gets from carbs. After a few days of the keto diet, your body runs out of glucose. So it starts burning body fat instead. This is called nutritional ketosis. It creates fatty acid substances called ketones, which your body can use for energy. what to eat before workout on keto diet http://www.ketogasmic.com/what-to-eat-before-and-after-workout-on-keto-diet

Ketosis vs. Ketoacidosis

If you have diabetes, it’s important to understand the difference between nutritional ketosis and ketoacidosis. Both involve ketones. But ketoacidosis is a dangerous condition that happens when your body doesn’t have enough insulin and ketones build up too much. Symptoms include excessive thirst, urinating often, confusion, and weakness or fatigue. It’s more common for people with type 1 than type 2. Ketosis happens with much lower, safer levels of ketones than ketoacidosis. In fact, this process happens in the course of everyday life, depending on the amount of carbs and protein you eat. It’s the state that can lead to weight loss, especially belly fat, and lower A1c for many people with diabetes.

Does Keto Work if You Have Diabetes?

Research suggests that people with type 2 diabetes can slim down and lower their blood sugar levels with the keto diet. In one study, people with type 2 lost weight, needed less medication, and lowered their A1c when they followed the keto diet for a year.

If you’re insulin resistant -- which means you have higher blood sugar levels because your body isn’t responding properly to the hormone insulin -- you could benefit from nutritional ketosis, because your body will need and make less insulin.

There are fewer studies looking at the keto diet for people with type 1 diabetes. One small study found that it helped people with type 1 lower their A1c levels, but we need a lot more research to get the full picture of the diet’s effects.

Keep in mind that most studies have only looked at the short-term results of the keto diet. It’s unclear if it works as a long-term way to manage your diabetes.

If you decide to try the keto diet, be aware that it may be hard to stick to. The very low amount of carbs in the plan is a big change for many people. It also can make you feel tired for a few weeks until your body adapts. To make it a success, it’s a good idea to make a meal plan you can follow, including keto-friendly meals and snacks to keep on hand. dairy free keto meal plan http://www.ketogasmic.com/quick-guide-to-dairy-free-keto-meal-plan

Is Keto Safe if You Have Diabetes?

That depends on the type of diabetes you have. In general, people with type 2 who are overweight seem to get good results safely. If you have type 1 and want to try the keto diet, it’s essential that you talk to your doctor first. You’ll need to carefully monitor your health and watch for signs of ketoacidosis. For either type, it’s a good idea to work closely with your doctor, since you may need to change your medications.

The keto diet has some side effects that are worth knowing about, too: Hypoglycemia: Though the diet can lower A1c levels, that may mean you’re at a higher risk of blood sugar that dips too low, especially if you’re also taking medicine for your diabetes. Let your doctor or diabetes educator know if you try the keto diet. They can advise you about checking your blood sugar, taking your medicines, and what to do when your blood sugar drops too low.

Heart disease: The diet emphasizes eating a lot of fat. If you eat too much saturated fat (the kind in foods like bacon and butter), that could raise your cholesterol, especially LDL, which is linked to heart disease. This is a special concern for people with diabetes, since the condition itself makes you more likely to get heart disease. Make sure that healthier sources are providing your fats -- the mono- and polyunsaturated kinds, such as those in foods like avocados, nuts, and olive and canola oils. If you do it right, your LDL cholesterol and triglyceride levels could go down. If you take medicine for heart problems, such as high blood pressure, check with your doctor to see if you need to make changes to your medications.

Lack of nutrients: Since many foods are off-limits, including some fruits, vegetables, and dairy products, you could miss out on the important nutrients you’d get from them. Work with a nutritionist familiar with nutritional ketosis to make sure your body gets what it needs. Liver and kidney problems: These organs help your body process fat and protein. Some experts worry that the keto diet could overwork them. Others say that if your organs are healthy, you’re probably fine. Constipation: Since you’re not eating foods like whole grains and beans, you could miss key sources of fiber. keto budget meal plan http://www.ketogasmic.com/keto-budget-meal-plan-a-handy-guide-for-beginners

Gallstones: If you lose weight quickly, you could be more likely to get gallstones. Some foods, like those high in fiber and those with healthy fats, could help you prevent them. Talk to your doctor about other ways to avoid gallbladder trouble.

Should You Try It?

Talk to your doctor before you sign up for the keto diet. For some people with diabetes, especially those who need to lose weight, this way of eating can help improve symptoms and lessen the need for medication. But for others, the keto diet could make diabetes worse. You’ll want to be careful when you transition off of it; adding carbs back in all at once can cause blood sugar spikes and weight gain. Your best bet is to start slowly with carbs that are high in protein and fiber.

[toomanysinks]

Timing and why we’re all VCs

Timing is the single most valuable skill of the modern economy, but I would argue its’s the least understood and also the least practiced.

Capitalism is fundamentally about timing, since market competition is about finding opportunities before others. When should you start a company? What company should you start? When should a VC invest? When should you join a company? When should you switch industries? When should you back a candidate for public office?

Every single one of our professional decisions is about timing, and yet, we do so little to practice and perfect it. Most employees only make 3-4 major career decisions in their lifetimes — hardly enough feedback for this skill to mature. Anyone who has worked in a large company further knows that timing a product launch or a new marketing strategy has more to do with internal politics than reading market forces.

Most of us want to make more money and accelerate our careers, but the truth is that these opportunities are few and far between. Most jobs have limited growth potential. Most startups die. Most VCs don’t make money. Most political candidates fail to get elected. The difference between success and failure sometimes has to do with hard work and tenacity, but far more often with the strategy of timing.

It’s obvious that we can be too late to these decisions of course. We can miss the round of financing, we can start a company a year or two behind someone else and lose the first-mover advantage. But we can also be way too early, ahead of the market and losing out on alternative opportunities that might have been more valuable.

Now, some perceive that “timing” is synonymous with “luck.” There is some truth there, in the sense that life is random and sometimes — completely unintentionally — people stumble upon a treasure chest of gold.

Don’t be distracted by that, because there are also people who just seem to have timing nailed. There are engineers (I know because I have seen their recruiter profiles) who have joined three unicorns in a row in the first handful of employees. There are VCs who get a string of wins that is far from chance. There are CEOs that always seem to guide their companies to the right place at the right time and drive their stock valuations up.

We talked a lot about why we can’t build infrastructure in America yesterday. One of the challenges is simply timing: so many things have to happen at once for these projects to get off the ground, and most governors and mayors lack the timing skills required to get them over the finish line.

How can you practice timing? Start writing down predictions about people, companies, and markets. Check in with the companies you talked with a few years ago — how are they doing? Ditto people you met a while back. Start evaluating your predictions: were they correct? Were they too early or too late?

More importantly, start cultivating networks of friends who have a sense of pulse on the frontiers of the economy. That could mean someone at the edge of a new science (quantum computing or AI) or someone who gets marketing to new demographics, or someone who tracks new regulatory and legal changes. Find a peer group of people who get timing and practice it as a craft.

Between TechCrunch today and my former roles in venture capital, I’ve had the opportunity to practice timing a lot. I have a list of companies that I would have backed, and some have turned into unicorns while others have ended up on the ash heap of history. I’ve predicted some trends well, while flubbed others. I’ve been way too early (a huge bias for me), and sometimes stupidly late.

But all along, I am practicing that timing muscle. It’s the only way forward in capitalism, and it’s worth every investment you can make.

Mithril Capital, management fees, and VC strategic drift

Peter Kim via Getty Images

Theodore Schleifer at Recode reported a rare deep dive into the internal intrigue at a prominent VC firm, in this case Mithril Capital. From the article:

Mithril had its best moment yet last week when a portfolio company, Auris Health, sold to Johnson & Johnson for more than $3 billion — returning at least $500 million to the fund.

All appears well. But behind the scenes, a far different story has been unfolding.

The late-stage investment firm has been a slow-burning mess for the past several months, angering current and former employees, limited partners, and, crucially, [Peter] Thiel himself, sources say.

Among the issues is the firm’s huge management fee … and I guess lack of expenses?

The firm is likely collecting as much as $20 million a year in management fees, sources familiar with the figures say.

We don’t know exactly how much the firm spends, but people close to Mithril say they can’t imagine that the firm, given its staff size, is spending more than half of that on operational expenses. [Mithril Capital founder Ajay] Royan’s salary, like that of other venture capitalists, is not publicly disclosed.

One limited partner called the fees, given the size of Mithril’s staff, “outrageous.”

What? I don’t understand this line of reasoning at all. The firm negotiates a fairly standard agreement with its limited partners, and then the LPs are pissed because the firm isn’t spending the money on massive staff and large, expensive offices? The whole point of delegating investment decisions to a GP is to empower them to organize their firm to win deals and get stuff done. If — and it’s a big if of course — they can do that on the cheap, then why should an LP care at all? Burn the management fee in a fireplace if it makes the deals happen.

Ajay Royan told Bloomberg in 2017 that Mithril does not “charge excessive fees.” But he was not exactly known for being thrifty with management money. Former employees describe Friday catered lunches where costs could run over $100 per person, and Royan was known internally for a “book ordering problem” — a former employee said that “unbelievable amounts of books” would be delivered each week to the office by Amazon to maintain the firm’s extensive library.

Pro tip: take on the mantle of book editor for a major tech publication, and the publishers will mail you books for free. We get at least a dozen at the TC offices every week, which is why we write about books so often around here these days. Alas, no $100 catered lunches.

The wider story here though appears to be one of a firm completely strategically adrift. Mithril is struggling to compete against ferocious competition in the growth-stage equity market. The best deals are obvious to dozens of firms, and the ones that are less obvious have huge risks attached to them that make it hard to write the big checks required.

“[Royan] literally did not want to compete. If there was a process or bidding war or something resembling a competition, he would just walk,” the employee said. “And he would just say, ‘I don’t want to outbid.’”

Mithril is hardly the only VC firm that is strategically adrift. Every time I go back to SF, this seems to be the norm these days among venture capitalists. There is a huge amount of money sloshing around, and very few deals that are in that sweet spot between obvious and highly risky. Startups either get three dozen term sheets or none at all, since every firm is walking around with the same frameworks and metrics in their head.

It’s so rare to actually hear a VC strategy that isn’t generic capital, that has some differentiation on sourcing, and picking, and growing businesses beyond the “we invest in great companies.” VCs don’t like strategy because it means making choices, and making choices means saying no to certain things, and those things might be the next Facebook. So they do everything, all the time, which really means they do nothing. And so we get book ordering problems and expensive lunches and weirdly angry LPs. What a boring mess.

Quality tech news from around the web

Written by Arman Tabatabai

Carl Larson Photography via Getty Images

South California is also seeing declining seed investment

Today, the Los Angeles Economic Development Corporation (LAEDC) published its updated economic forecast for LA and the Southern California region. One interesting note in the report is an observed slow down in early-stage venture investing. The report highlighted that while growth-stage investments in CA were hitting record highs, total deal count and seed investing — both in terms of total seed dollars and seed deal count — were at their lowest points since 2012.

The data points in LA, Southern CA, and the rest of the state seem to follow the trend of declining seed rounds seen in the rest of the country. While the topic is one we’ve previously discussed and one which has heated up in recent weeks with commentary from Marc Suster, Fred Wilson, and others, it’s interesting to see the trend occurring even in more nascent startup markets.

Will “Diet CA-HSR” even get done as feds look to pull back California funding

The federal government announced that it would be pulling back $1 billion in funding that was slated for the California high-speed rail project through 2022, while also pursuing legal action to help recoup the $2.5 billion it has already coughed up. The Federal Railroad Administration is arguing that the state’s updated plan — completing only a route from Bakersfield to Merced — is starkly different from the plan for which the funds were originally allocated. Ouch.

As stock exchanges compete to attract IPOs, unicorns and investors win?

It might be getting easier for companies to go public around the world. With ample late-stage capital keeping more companies staying private for longer, looser rules from the SEC and the Hong Kong Stock Exchange may be on the way to help entice more IPOs.

In the US, the SEC proposed allowing all companies to market themselves to investors before announcing IPOs versus just those that fall under the agency’s “emerging growth” definition. Across the Pacific, Bloomberg reported that Chinese tech companies have been lobbying the HK Exchange for a number of more favorable rules, including allowing companies to maintain extra voting rights and letting major shareholders buy extra stock in the process. With a serious number of Chinese companies opting to list on foreign exchanges last year, the HK Exchange might be feeling pressure to cough up concessions that could help them win local listings — especially if the US moves forward with friendlier rules.

How Japan lost half its citizens with poor data

The Japanese government failed to pay out billions of yen in government benefits for years due to faulty data. If that wasn’t bad enough, Nikkei Asian Review reported yesterday that the government is struggling to even locate roughly half of those who are owed since they don’t have their current addresses on file.

As simple as it may seem, tracking the indebted is actually a tall task since citizens have changed residences, changed names, and since the Japanese government has historically destroyed benefit applications (containing address info) after the period required to maintain them. At this point, it’s unclear whether everyone who is owed will even end up getting paid, with the Japanese government now offering a prime example of how poor data maintenance and not just poor data collection can make a situation go from bad to a whole lot worse.

Can the race to build roads in Southeast Asia avoid development gridlock?

As we harp on our “Why can’t we build anything?” obsession, infrastructure development in Southeast Asia is continuing to heat up and everyone seems to want a piece of the pie. Japan announced plans to further accelerate investment into infrastructure and urban development in the region — where China is also actively engaged — with initial expansion talks focused on Cambodia and the Philippines. At the same time, a newly unveiled government budget in Singapore and the ongoing election in Indonesia have brought infrastructure development strategies into the spotlight, with open debate on how these projects have been and should be funded.

Obsessions

More discussion of megaprojects, infrastructure, and “why can’t we build things”

We are going to be talking India here, focused around the book “Billonnaire Raj” by James Crabtree

We have a lot to catch up on in the China world when the EC launch craziness dies down. Plus, we are covering The Next Factory of the World by Irene Yuan Sun.

Societal resilience and geoengineering are still top-of-mind

Some more on metrics design and quantification

Thanks

To every member of Extra Crunch: thank you. You allow us to get off the ad-laden media churn conveyor belt and spend quality time on amazing ideas, people, and companies. If I can ever be of assistance, hit reply, or send an email to danny@techcrunch.com.

This newsletter is written with the assistance of Arman Tabatabai from New York

source https://techcrunch.com/2019/02/20/timing-and-why-were-all-vcs/

[fmservers]

Timing and why we’re all VCs

Timing is the single most valuable skill of the modern economy, but I would argue its’s the least understood and also the least practiced.

Capitalism is fundamentally about timing, since market competition is about finding opportunities before others. When should you start a company? What company should you start? When should a VC invest? When should you join a company? When should you switch industries? When should you back a candidate for public office?

Every single one of our professional decisions is about timing, and yet, we do so little to practice and perfect it. Most employees only make 3-4 major career decisions in their lifetimes — hardly enough feedback for this skill to mature. Anyone who has worked in a large company further knows that timing a product launch or a new marketing strategy has more to do with internal politics than reading market forces.

Most of us want to make more money and accelerate our careers, but the truth is that these opportunities are few and far between. Most jobs have limited growth potential. Most startups die. Most VCs don’t make money. Most political candidates fail to get elected. The difference between success and failure sometimes has to do with hard work and tenacity, but far more often with the strategy of timing.

It’s obvious that we can be too late to these decisions of course. We can miss the round of financing, we can start a company a year or two behind someone else and lose the first-mover advantage. But we can also be way too early, ahead of the market and losing out on alternative opportunities that might have been more valuable.

Now, some perceive that “timing” is synonymous with “luck.” There is some truth there, in the sense that life is random and sometimes — completely unintentionally — people stumble upon a treasure chest of gold.

Don’t be distracted by that, because there are also people who just seem to have timing nailed. There are engineers (I know because I have seen their recruiter profiles) who have joined three unicorns in a row in the first handful of employees. There are VCs who get a string of wins that is far from chance. There are CEOs that always seem to guide their companies to the right place at the right time and drive their stock valuations up.

We talked a lot about why we can’t build infrastructure in America yesterday. One of the challenges is simply timing: so many things have to happen at once for these projects to get off the ground, and most governors and mayors lack the timing skills required to get them over the finish line.

How can you practice timing? Start writing down predictions about people, companies, and markets. Check in with the companies you talked with a few years ago — how are they doing? Ditto people you met a while back. Start evaluating your predictions: were they correct? Were they too early or too late?

More importantly, start cultivating networks of friends who have a sense of pulse on the frontiers of the economy. That could mean someone at the edge of a new science (quantum computing or AI) or someone who gets marketing to new demographics, or someone who tracks new regulatory and legal changes. Find a peer group of people who get timing and practice it as a craft.

Between TechCrunch today and my former roles in venture capital, I’ve had the opportunity to practice timing a lot. I have a list of companies that I would have backed, and some have turned into unicorns while others have ended up on the ash heap of history. I’ve predicted some trends well, while flubbed others. I’ve been way too early (a huge bias for me), and sometimes stupidly late.

But all along, I am practicing that timing muscle. It’s the only way forward in capitalism, and it’s worth every investment you can make.

Mithril Capital, management fees, and VC strategic drift

Peter Kim via Getty Images

Theodore Schleifer at Recode reported a rare deep dive into the internal intrigue at a prominent VC firm, in this case Mithril Capital. From the article:

Mithril had its best moment yet last week when a portfolio company, Auris Health, sold to Johnson & Johnson for more than $3 billion — returning at least $500 million to the fund.

All appears well. But behind the scenes, a far different story has been unfolding.

The late-stage investment firm has been a slow-burning mess for the past several months, angering current and former employees, limited partners, and, crucially, [Peter] Thiel himself, sources say.

Among the issues is the firm’s huge management fee … and I guess lack of expenses?

The firm is likely collecting as much as $20 million a year in management fees, sources familiar with the figures say.

We don’t know exactly how much the firm spends, but people close to Mithril say they can’t imagine that the firm, given its staff size, is spending more than half of that on operational expenses. [Mithril Capital founder Ajay] Royan’s salary, like that of other venture capitalists, is not publicly disclosed.

One limited partner called the fees, given the size of Mithril’s staff, “outrageous.”

What? I don’t understand this line of reasoning at all. The firm negotiates a fairly standard agreement with its limited partners, and then the LPs are pissed because the firm isn’t spending the money on massive staff and large, expensive offices? The whole point of delegating investment decisions to a GP is to empower them to organize their firm to win deals and get stuff done. If — and it’s a big if of course — they can do that on the cheap, then why should an LP care at all? Burn the management fee in a fireplace if it makes the deals happen.

Ajay Royan told Bloomberg in 2017 that Mithril does not “charge excessive fees.” But he was not exactly known for being thrifty with management money. Former employees describe Friday catered lunches where costs could run over $100 per person, and Royan was known internally for a “book ordering problem” — a former employee said that “unbelievable amounts of books” would be delivered each week to the office by Amazon to maintain the firm’s extensive library.

Pro tip: take on the mantle of book editor for a major tech publication, and the publishers will mail you books for free. We get at least a dozen at the TC offices every week, which is why we write about books so often around here these days. Alas, no $100 catered lunches.

The wider story here though appears to be one of a firm completely strategically adrift. Mithril is struggling to compete against ferocious competition in the growth-stage equity market. The best deals are obvious to dozens of firms, and the ones that are less obvious have huge risks attached to them that make it hard to write the big checks required.

“[Royan] literally did not want to compete. If there was a process or bidding war or something resembling a competition, he would just walk,” the employee said. “And he would just say, ‘I don’t want to outbid.’”

Mithril is hardly the only VC firm that is strategically adrift. Every time I go back to SF, this seems to be the norm these days among venture capitalists. There is a huge amount of money sloshing around, and very few deals that are in that sweet spot between obvious and highly risky. Startups either get three dozen term sheets or none at all, since every firm is walking around with the same frameworks and metrics in their head.

It’s so rare to actually hear a VC strategy that isn’t generic capital, that has some differentiation on sourcing, and picking, and growing businesses beyond the “we invest in great companies.” VCs don’t like strategy because it means making choices, and making choices means saying no to certain things, and those things might be the next Facebook. So they do everything, all the time, which really means they do nothing. And so we get book ordering problems and expensive lunches and weirdly angry LPs. What a boring mess.

Quality tech news from around the web

Written by Arman Tabatabai

Carl Larson Photography via Getty Images

South California is also seeing declining seed investment

Today, the Los Angeles Economic Development Corporation (LAEDC) published its updated economic forecast for LA and the Southern California region. One interesting note in the report is an observed slow down in early-stage venture investing. The report highlighted that while growth-stage investments in CA were hitting record highs, total deal count and seed investing — both in terms of total seed dollars and seed deal count — were at their lowest points since 2012.

The data points in LA, Southern CA, and the rest of the state seem to follow the trend of declining seed rounds seen in the rest of the country. While the topic is one we’ve previously discussed and one which has heated up in recent weeks with commentary from Marc Suster, Fred Wilson, and others, it’s interesting to see the trend occurring even in more nascent startup markets.

Will “Diet CA-HSR” even get done as feds look to pull back California funding

The federal government announced that it would be pulling back $1 billion in funding that was slated for the California high-speed rail project through 2022, while also pursuing legal action to help recoup the $2.5 billion it has already coughed up. The Federal Railroad Administration is arguing that the state’s updated plan — completing only a route from Bakersfield to Merced — is starkly different from the plan for which the funds were originally allocated. Ouch.

As stock exchanges compete to attract IPOs, unicorns and investors win?

It might be getting easier for companies to go public around the world. With ample late-stage capital keeping more companies staying private for longer, looser rules from the SEC and the Hong Kong Stock Exchange may be on the way to help entice more IPOs.

In the US, the SEC proposed allowing all companies to market themselves to investors before announcing IPOs versus just those that fall under the agency’s “emerging growth” definition. Across the Pacific, Bloomberg reported that Chinese tech companies have been lobbying the HK Exchange for a number of more favorable rules, including allowing companies to maintain extra voting rights and letting major shareholders buy extra stock in the process. With a serious number of Chinese companies opting to list on foreign exchanges last year, the HK Exchange might be feeling pressure to cough up concessions that could help them win local listings — especially if the US moves forward with friendlier rules.

How Japan lost half its citizens with poor data

The Japanese government failed to pay out billions of yen in government benefits for years due to faulty data. If that wasn’t bad enough, Nikkei Asian Review reported yesterday that the government is struggling to even locate roughly half of those who are owed since they don’t have their current addresses on file.

As simple as it may seem, tracking the indebted is actually a tall task since citizens have changed residences, changed names, and since the Japanese government has historically destroyed benefit applications (containing address info) after the period required to maintain them. At this point, it’s unclear whether everyone who is owed will even end up getting paid, with the Japanese government now offering a prime example of how poor data maintenance and not just poor data collection can make a situation go from bad to a whole lot worse.

Can the race to build roads in Southeast Asia avoid development gridlock?

As we harp on our “Why can’t we build anything?” obsession, infrastructure development in Southeast Asia is continuing to heat up and everyone seems to want a piece of the pie. Japan announced plans to further accelerate investment into infrastructure and urban development in the region — where China is also actively engaged — with initial expansion talks focused on Cambodia and the Philippines. At the same time, a newly unveiled government budget in Singapore and the ongoing election in Indonesia have brought infrastructure development strategies into the spotlight, with open debate on how these projects have been and should be funded.

Obsessions

More discussion of megaprojects, infrastructure, and “why can’t we build things”

We are going to be talking India here, focused around the book “Billonnaire Raj” by James Crabtree

We have a lot to catch up on in the China world when the EC launch craziness dies down. Plus, we are covering The Next Factory of the World by Irene Yuan Sun.

Societal resilience and geoengineering are still top-of-mind

Some more on metrics design and quantification

Thanks

To every member of Extra Crunch: thank you. You allow us to get off the ad-laden media churn conveyor belt and spend quality time on amazing ideas, people, and companies. If I can ever be of assistance, hit reply, or send an email to danny@techcrunch.com.

This newsletter is written with the assistance of Arman Tabatabai from New York

Via Arman Tabatabai https://techcrunch.com