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my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years ago

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Branding - Floyd

Whumptober: Day 14

I think the title really says all, here. About 2800 words, so this is decently lengthy. Very excited to have it done!!

Content warnings: branding, burns and general presence of fire, creepy whumper, fairly possessive here, noncon touching and kiss (nonsexual and only one kiss to the forehead)

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“I find it very important to mark what belongs to me, you know.”

Floyd swallowed hard and nodded, his eyes locked on the glowing metal in Percival’s hands as it pressed against a barrel lid. Flames flared up and elicited a hissing sound as it burned. He only held it for a few seconds before lifting up again, revealing the dark brand now impressed in the wood’s surface.

The metal was smoking when Percival laid it back down in Floyd’s hands, and he scrambled to bring flames back to his fingertips before it could scorch him. Each repetition took even more effort and energy, but he’d been able to consistently please Percival so far... except for his lethargy and subsequent punishment right after waking up, that was. His split lip wasn’t making it easy to forget.

“Getting tired?” Percival smiled over the branding iron, his eyes not unlike the glowing ones resting in his palms. The end of the iron was a curved figure eight, fluctuating in thickness, with two thin rods vertically splitting each half. The symbol of infinity, he mused, inhabited by the eyes of a serpent. Fitting.

“N-no, I’m sorry,” he said.

“Pay more attention. You’re doing such a good job so far, and I’d hate to see those hands of yours ruined by ignorance,” he chastised, and Floyd felt conflicting instincts of pride and shame rise in him. He felt worse for letting those words make him feel anything at all.

He nodded, watching the iron simmer in the flames for a minute or so before removing it and choosing the next barrel. Since some old ones were rotting through, he’d recently found new ones. Whether they were stolen or actually purchased, Floyd really couldn’t care less.

Percival had enlisted his help in lugging them out to the deck earlier, far too early in the day for his malnourished body to do such hard work. That’s what had earned him the punishment in the first place, and the dented end of the next barrel was further physical proof of his laziness.

The cool morning mist still permeated the air around them and made it even more difficult to call upon his magic. It clung to his skin along with the sweat when the brand swung back into his hands.

There didn’t seem to be a set reason for Floyd to participate in this anyway, other than to hone his skills. Percival told him he was convenient, but he found that hard to believe when even a small, steady fire could have been doing this job more effectively. He’d tried to bring that up before, but it only ever got him a slap to the face on a bad day or a patronizing chuckle on a good one. He didn’t argue very much against Percival anymore.

He didn’t do very much of anything against Percival anymore, come to think of it. Obedience was like second nature to him. It ran through the core of his very being, and whether or not that was beneficial for him became less clear every day. Following orders kept him alive safe. Being subservient allowed him more basic rights privileges. Playing his part let him bide his time until he made it out of this hell. But there were too many days where Floyd felt he wasn’t just putting up a front anymore.

“Benedict.”

He flinched, blinking.

“What did I just tell you?”

The end of the branding iron hovered just over his fingertips, the heat so close it nearly singed them. Floyd scrambled to call his magic back, sending sparks flying in his panic. Percival’s frown deepened when one hit his coat, glowing and sparkling before it went out. He let the full weight of the iron rest on his captive’s hands, watching them shake with adrenaline and exhaustion.

“Do it again and I won’t hesitate-”

“I understand, I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he insisted, not wanting to hear whatever threat Percival had to offer this time.

“...don’t interrupt me,” Percival sighed, shaking his head. “I was just considering rewarding you, too.”

Floyd hated how he perked up at that. He focused hard through the last few brands, even as his magic weakened and failed him. The small burns on his hands stung as the last brand was finished.

“Very nice work,” Percival smiled, setting the brand aside to replace the lid on each barrel. “I think these can stay out here for now.”

Floyd breathed a sigh of relief at that. He was shaking all over already and couldn’t possibly lift one of those barrels, let alone the five he’d been forced to carry out.

Percival got to his feet, took the branding iron in one hand, and nudged Floyd with the toe of his shoe, indicating that he should stand as well. He did so slowly, legs trembling and threatening to send him tumbling back to the deck. His captor grabbed his upper arm to guide him, having forgone the leash that morning since most of the crew was still asleep, and those who weren’t were busy keeping the ship afloat. It seemed to be more for show than anything else, lately.

Floyd leaned into his support as they walked, grateful for simply being allowed on his feet. Too often after a hard session he was pushed to his knees and forced to ‘crawl if he’s so tired.’

“You’ve been doing so well lately, darling,”

“I... thank you,” he breathed. Percival didn’t just say things like that without a reason. It set him on edge and he felt his pulse jump.

“I mean it,” Percival insisted, “I really am proud of you. You’ve come so far.”

Floyd swallowed back the disgust that pooled tears in the corners of his eyes, nodding along with the words, fearing the cracks in his voice should he try to speak.

He’d come so far. He’d come so far from who he was working up to be, who he almost felt confident as, and now he was breaking in a different way... but it was the same, wasn’t it? Always keyed in to follow instructions, push himself until he physically couldn’t bear the strain, endure a punishment anyway, and crumble. He’d felt himself slip before and he could feel it again, but this time was so much worse.

“There’s one more thing I want you to do for me now. Then you can rest.” Percival opened the door to his room, and Floyd looked back nervously as he shuffled in.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Take off your shirt.”

He froze, eyes locking on Percival’s face, seeing the sincerity there, and slowly trailing down to the branding iron, still glowing faintly in his hand. No. He… he couldn’t be serious. “Why-”

“I told you to take off your shirt, darling.” The warning in his tone was clear.

Floyd reluctantly slipped the light linen over his head, folding it and setting it beside him.

“Good. Now, go lay down on the table.”

His heart pounded in his chest. That was it. That was the only answer, wasn’t it? He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. Despair and panic overcame him and he met Percival’s eyes.

“No- no, you’re… you’re not seriously-”

“I did say I find it important to mark what belongs to me, didn’t I?” Percival smiled, then, and oh fuck this was really going to happen.

Floyd clapped a hand over his mouth to hold in a desperate sob, but he couldn’t breathe. The mere thought of the brand pulled his chest tight with terror. Tiny gasping breaths fought to get past his throat as tears bubbled up and spilled.

“Please, please don’t- oh god- pl-lease!” Floyd choked on his pleas when Percival advanced on him, reaching for his collar. Without a second thought, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head. “A-anything else, please, please I can’t- I can’t- fuck-”

He squeezed his eyes shut so he didn’t have to see his tormentor approach, to try to hold back the tears spilling over something that hadn’t even happened yet--that couldn’t happen, he couldn’t handle this--and to pretend he was, dear god, anywhere else for even a moment. His arms flew up around his neck, around the collar so he couldn’t be grabbed there, and he hunched over his knees.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Percival bent down and ran a hand through Floyd’s hair, not grabbing or pulling just yet. His tone almost sounded sympathetic over the amused laugh bubbling up from his chest. “You know there’s no way out of this. Honestly, I’ve had my heart set on keeping you since I first figured out what you were, but I thought you might need a little adjustment period before you were ready to accept that. They always do.”

Floyd shuddered, tears welling up and slipping out despite his best efforts. He’d seen the marks left on the barrels. He knew what that amount of heat would do to his skin. His side itched, the slight, nearly invisible scarring there a permanent reminder of that. But scalding water couldn’t hold a candle to red hot metal.

“Don’t be difficult,” Percival chided, reaching a hand to his chin and pushing it up. A guide. A warning. Floyd turned his head, pointing resolutely down to the ground.

“I’m-” he started roughly, swallowing tears and pride, ”I know that. I already know I’m- I’m yours. So, you don’t have to- to mark me to make me understand.”

He didn’t have to look up to know that Percival was beaming. Floyd’s skin tinged red with shame.

“Oh, that’s- I’m flattered, buttercup,” he breathed, practically glowing as pure ecstasy flowed through him. “If I’d known this is what it would take to make you good… but even then, if you accept that you really are mine, then you should have no problem letting this happen. You should be honored that I adore you so, Benedict.”

He bit his lip. This time when Percival reached for his chin, Floyd raised his head.

“Open your eyes.” They peeled open slowly, drying tears sticking to his lashes. The fond smile shining down on him made him want to close his eyes and never open them again.

“Get up.” Thin fingers pushed between arms he hadn’t even realized he’d loosened, hooking into the loop at the front of his collar. Either he got up, or Percival forced him to anyway. There wasn’t a choice. There had been none to begin with. He’d known that from the moment he refused, hadn’t he?

“Walk.” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t willfully submit himself to this. To bear the mark of his captor that would surely never fade for as long as he lived. How long…

Floyd planted his feet, even as he was pulled forward by the hand on his collar. The metal rod of the branding iron swung, smacking hard into the small of his back, pushing him forward with a strangled gasp. He walked, then, unsteady and shaking on his feet.

“Get on the table.” He rested a trembling hand on the wood, feeling the ridges underneath his fingers as he tried to convince himself to follow the command. It would be easier if he did what he was told. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. But he knew the mental burden would never ease.

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch, gather his fading strength, and heave himself up to sit on the edge. The hands guided him to sit fully on the table, a palm on his chest pushing until he laid on his back, shaking against the hard surface. Percival reached under his collar to clip it to a small loop in the wood. When his hands were guided over his head, he only held them resolutely by his sides until he saw the iron raised, poised to strike.

Floyd’s throat tightened with the straps that fastened around his wrists, squirming against their hold and breathing in whistling, whining breaths. Straps held his ankles and he twisted against them when another looped over his abdomen. They were too tight, but anything holding him still at all was too much to stand by then.

Percival stood over him, and Floyd saw excitement blazing in his eyes. A sense of deja vu washed over him, the same feeling of overwhelming fear and vulnerability as when he was first laid out on this table: the first time he felt his magic as Percival’s forcefully tore it out of dormancy.

“Now…” Percival had both hands on the branding iron as he raised it up, hovering the end over Floyd’s hands, just close enough to brush them with the slowly cooling metal. It took him a moment to remember what it meant, but Floyd gasped and sobbed when he realized.

“No, no I won’t, you can’t make-”

“Oh, but I can,” Percival grinned. “Go ahead and do what you need to, or I’ll make you.”

Floyd couldn’t tell if it was the exhaustion of having spent so much of his energy doing it over and over again or if he simply couldn’t force himself to heat his own brand, but no fire sprang to his fingertips. Percival sighed, reaching a hand out to skim over his skin and press in on the underside of his right arm.

Power shot between them, painfully so, and Floyd shouted as his palms sparked, blazing hot with raw magic. He clenched up, instinctively resisting the invasion, but couldn’t stop it no matter how hard he tried. It was wrong, and an unnatural coolness ran deep to his core, but he could do nothing to stop its path to the carefully crafted metal.

Seconds blurred into minutes and it felt as his body was taken from him. More of Percival’s magic ran through him than his own and everything it reached was foreign in a way that it had never been before. His magic wasn’t his own, nor had it ever really been. It was all so violating until it was simply numb and chilling.

Finally, it stopped, but the sensation lingered. Floyd was almost relieved until he remembered what came next.

“No…” he whispered, heart seizing up in his chest when he saw the brand glowing even hotter than he had heated it before. The orange was so bright it was nearly white in some areas, and when he blinked it still lingered in his vision, flashing in the darkness. Permanent. Permanent.

“Hold still unless you want to mess it up and go through this all over again,” Percival warned, tracing a figure eight over his chest with one finger and drawing a shiver from him as he cried. That’s where it would go. That’s where it would always be. His mind raced, trying to find any way to get out of it. Maybe…

Floyd focused and gathered what magic he had left, attempting to push it towards where Percival had traced, to use his power to combat the flames. It wasn’t much but- he froze when he felt the hand slide up to his collar, the unmistakable sensation of the restrictor turning on, leeching his magic, and leaving him empty.

“Oh, Benedict, you shouldn’t have even tried.” Percival clicked his tongue, wretched, condescending, false sympathy dripping from his lips.

Both of his hands gripped the handle of the branding iron, positioning it straight above Floyd. He willed his breathing to slow, for his chest not to heave and bring him even closer to the fate slowly closing in on him, but it didn’t matter in the end.

No unending second or stuttered heartbeat lasted lasted long enough to stop the iron from finding his skin, pressing down, tearing a startled scream from his throat that opened into a wail at the pain that seared into his chest, radiated out through everything around it- he ran out of air but he couldn’t breathe in, every breath choked out in a desperate whine.

His eyes were wide and unseeing, and everything reeked of fire and ash and his own burning skin, and oh, oh fuck, and why wasn’t it gone why was the iron still there, still digging in still burning still burning-

Floyd gasped when it pulled away, screaming and pleading with every breath he heaved in for relief that wouldn’t come, coughing and shuddering and crying outright, writhing against the bonds even as the brand flared with pain.

“Shhh, it’s over now, shhhh,” Percival carded a hand through Floyd’s hair, slick with sweat, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Floyd turned his head away, struggling even harder against the straps still tethering him to the table.

“No, don’t move just yet. I’ll let you see how it looks before we bandage it up, I promise. It’s… you’re just... stunning,” Percival smiles. He smiles, staring at the burned emblem on Floyd’s chest, and it’s a smile of pure, unrestricted joy. He could have sworn he’d seen tears glittering in Percival’s eyes before he blinked them away. “You’re mine. And now everybody else will know it too.”

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Tag list, ask to be added or removed!

@whump-tr0pes, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @doitforthewhump, @shameless-whumper, @endless-whump, @theycomeinthrees, @faewhump, @lonesome--hunter, @insanitywishes, @ohmywhump, @deluxewhump, @galaxywhump, @liliability

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denqis · 5 years ago

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bruises ㅡ kaminari denki x reader

summary: the reader gets abused by her dad, whose quirk is mind-reading and who's utterly obsessed with keeping her only for herself.

warning: graphic discrisption of domestic violence and abuse ; cursing ; angst ; fluff

word count: 1622

"hey, y/n, wanna join us at the karaoke bar?"

mina shot you a smile, but it faded quickly, when you just walked past her, head down and earphones plugged in.

a sigh left the girls lips. what was wrong with you?

the whole class had gotten a lot closer ever since moving to the dorms, you noticed that too. you would love to join them, wherever really.

but you couldn't. your dad would have your head in no time if you wouldn't come home right after school.

he doesn't let you go anywhere, let alone move out of the flat.

t-10 minutes

"y/n, hey. wait up! whatcha listening to?"

you stopped in your tracks, kaminari suddenly appearing in front of you. you stared at the blonde, his golden eyes sparkling.

"who cares."

you retort, before quickly stepping away.

"i obviously do. i just asked. come on, loosen up a little. i'm your classmate not some random stranger."

his hand slowly lifted up, moving towards your ear.

your heart rate sped up, vision going blurry and dark.

"don't!"

you yelled out, arms flying up to shield your face.

you trembled, as his arm fell along with his smile.

"y/n.."

he breathed, catching a tiny glimpse of your bruised, scarred arms.

"i-i have to go."

t-7 minutes

you sped up, soon bursting into tears as you took a left, reaching your flat completely out of breath.

you wiped your tears and straightened your blazer, face wiped clean from emotions.

"you're late."

his empty voice called, your lock screen confirmed his statement.

t+3 minutes

"i-i'm sorry. i forgot something at school, so i had to go back."

you lied, feeling dizzy. you knew he'd know the truth in a few seconds. and that he would punish you, not for lying but for...

"you talked to a boy again, huh? how many times do i have to tell you?! are you that dense? no talking to boys, no wasting time, no sleeping around."

"i'm not-"

you couldn't even finish your sentence before his fist hit your cheek, a pulsating pain shooting through your whole skull. you could feel blood trickling down your face.

"shut up, i can almost smell his stench on you! you're a little slut aren't you? but with that bruised little face of yours no boy will want you. you know what to do."

he instructed, you nodded, before walking into the kitchen and getting out a mallet, letting it smash down onto your left arm. you were used to the pain by now, it didn't sting anymore.

"that's a good girl. and no stopping until i say so, got it?"

a lifeless nod followed his instruction.

'kaminari...'

your mind flew to his smile and eyes, his laugh that made even your darkest days brighter.

"think about this boy again and i'll make you pay. my little girl belongs to only me."

he took the mallet from your hands, turned you towards him and slapped you across your face, once, twice. after the sixth time you fell to the floor, shaking and spitting blood. the salty and metallic taste in your mouth making you sick.

"what was his name again? kaminari? how about we remind you of how much hurt he's caused you?"

"n-no. dad please. i'm sorry, i'll never think about him again. i'll be good, i promise."

blood, snot and tears ran down your face, but you knew it was no use.

"give me your arm. now."

you shakily lifted your limb, seeing the blade flash once, before penetrating your skin.

"be good at school. and don't even think about covering your arm. if you do, you'll regret it. since you were such a brat yesterday, you'll be home 5 minutes after class ends. understand?"

he knew you wouldn't be able to make it in 5 minutes. he didn't care. he also didn't care that you'd get scolded for not wearing your school blazer and he knew that the swelling, cuts and bruises from yesterday would cause worry.

"good morning class, y/n where is your blazer?"

aizawa asked, eyes piercing through you. the whole class turned to you, gasping at the way you looked. it wasn't unusual for you to have bruises, you had always just brushed them off as battle wounds from kickboxing. but today you looked extra beat up.

"i forgot it at home, i'm sorry."

you stood up and bowed, arms behind your back, showing the backs of forearms to the person behind you, who, unfortunately, was the denki kaminari himself.

the carved, bloody letters that spelled out his name on your arm made him feel sick to his stomach.

once you took your seat again, his hand laid down on your shoulder.

"y/n what's all this about?"

your head began spinning, his hand felt like fire on your body. you longed for his touch, but your whole mind and body ached from your dad's abuse.

"answer me, damn it!"

he suddenly yelped, voice full of desperation, turning all the attention on the two of you.

"y/n, please. answer me.. why? why did you-"

your head hung low, body shaking, tears streaming down your face. you were helpless. you wanted to tell him, hug him and confess just what you really felt, but you couldn't. your dad would kill you.

"fine, don't talk to me at all then. fucking weirdo."

it felt as though a dagger had pierced through your heart and was now being twisted around. the blurry veil in front of your eyes grew thicker and soon you couldn't see anything. your breathing grew erratic, as your constantly forcefully suppressed whimpers and sobs grew louder and louder. your mind was raging, your skull felt like it was going to explode.

"y/n, come with me."

aizawa spoke, as he helped you from your seat, supporting your body that was violently shaken by tremors.

"we're going to help you. we're going to get you out of there, okay? kaminari is just as worried as all of us, if not more."

you looked up at him, his heart sank. never had he seen such a broken soul.

"i'm so sorry. we let this go on for too long."

"my dad.. he will kill me. i love kaminari, i love him so much. he's the only reason i hold on, but now that he hates me, i don't have a reason to stay alive."

you finally spoke, voice quiet and coarse.

"your dad won't do shit, y/n! i'll kill him if he ever lays a single finger on you again."

your head turned to the classroom door, that stood open and showed everyone, faces warped in anger and sadness.

"t-thank you, bakugo.."

you mumbled, he wasn't there with them. of course he wasn't. why would he try and help a weirdo.

you tried to stand up, but your legs failed you. you felt weak and dizzy.

"mr. aizawa, i don't feel too well. i think-"

you had gone days without food, only water found its way into your system every now and again. even your quirk was severely affected.

you thought you saw his blonde hair appear before your face, but before you knew, everything went black.

"her cheek bone is broken, she has several bruises, cuts and scars all over her body, she's malnourished. god what did this man do to his own daughter? he should be locked up."

recovery girl's voice slowly seeped into your consciousness, along with a strong grip around your hand.

"i think she's waking up!"

your heart skipped a beat, the electrocardiogram attached to you exposing your true feelings. he was here, by your side.

"k-kami-"

you tried to speak, but he interrupted you immediately.

"it's denki to you."

your heavy lids lifted, feasting upon his face and smug grin, trying to cover up the deep worry in his eyes.

"denki.."

you were about to sit up, when he leaned down to your bandaged face.

"you know, i just changed my mind. i think i'd prefer you calling me your boyfriend."

your heart raced, was he being serious?

"woah there, calm down. your poor heart. so that's the effect i have on you, huh? good to know."

he giggled, before softly lifting his hand to your face.

"i won't hurt you, i promise."

he purred, before carefully caressing your face, the thumb on his other hand starting to draw circles onto the back of your hand.

"damn, i really wanna kiss you right about now."

that's when your dad's words echoed in your mind

you're a little slut ... with that bruised little face of yours no boy will want you ... how about we remind you of how much hurt he's caused you ...

he was wrong, denki wanted you, no matter what.

"you're crying again? stop it, i can't stand seeing you cry."

his fingers wiped your tears slowly and carefully as he smiled down at you.

"about that kiss.."

you began, his face lighting up, leaning in once again.

"i'll take it slow, don't worry."

"young kaminari! get out right now, the poor girl is close to a heart attack because of you. only i am allowed to kiss people in this room. now, go and next time you visit, bring her flowers, it looks so empty and cold in here without them."

recovery girl ushered the blonde out of the room, before turning to you.

"people who go through a lot, get to call dibs on the best men. that one's a keeper, you better prepare yourself to get spoilt rotten."

she laughed and returned to her work, leaving you a blushing mess, electrocardiograph about to explode.

#kaminari denki #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #bnha #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #midoriya izuku #deku midoriya #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #kaminari x you #bakubro #bakusquad #mha hanta sero #sero hanta #mina ashido #oneshot #my hero academia ochako

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razorblade180 · 6 years ago

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Say goodbye

[Argus Apartment]

*knock knock knock*

Weiss:*opens door* Is that my husba-

Whitley:Nope, just me your- wow....

Weiss:What?

Whitley:I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with short hair. You look good.

Weiss:Had to cut it because I have two little monsters now. *points behind her*

*Nicholas and Summer asleep on cots.*

Weiss:So, what brings you here? Not that I don’t mind you coming over but I’m the new CEO of the family company is busy.

Whitley:It’s related to that actually. It’s father; he’s requested to see you. The kids as well.

Weiss:......No *closing door*

Whitley:*catches it* Wait, just hold on a second.

Weiss:I don’t know why you even bothered coming here; you knew my answer. He doesn’t call once ever since he all but removed me from the family. No wedding, child birth, birthday, or anything. Why would I possibly see him n/

Whitley:He’s on his death bed....

Weiss:.....What?

Whitley:He’s been sick and unable to work for months. Every day is a coin flip at this point; I would be surprised if he lasted another night.

Weiss:.....*looks down*

Whitley:Listen, I get it. We all get it; he’s done none of us any favors. Even still, Winter has come to visit him. I’ve already made my peace with him way before it got this serious. I just think you should go.

Weiss:Why, to ridicule me one more time?

Whitley:To say anything left you have to say. I know you, holding on to hate isn’t you. Don’t make a mistake that you won’t be able to fix Weiss; see him one more time.

Weiss:......Help me with the kids.

[Schnee Manor]

Weiss:*looking around* Everything still looks the same. Where’s Klein?

Whitley:*smiles* We’re grown Weiss, Klein is happily retired. Satisfied with his work.

Winter:*walking down the hall* As he should be; he helped raised some good kids.

Weiss:Winter! *notices her eyes are red* Hey are you ok?

Winter:I’m....I’m fine. It’s been a crazy day. *looks at the kids* but yours is probably crazier.

Weiss:You get used to it. So, is he...?

Winter:His room, I’ll walk you down.

Whitley:We all will.

Weiss:Thanks....

[Jacques Room]

*nothing too special about it. Just a decent sized room with a big bed, covered with navy blue sheets and a night stand littered with pills*

Whitley:*opens the door* Father? She’s here.

Jacques: *pale white skin and sunken eyes. He looks almost malnourished* Good, send her in.

Weiss:*steps in, twins in both arms* Hello father, you’ve seen better days.

Jacques:As have you; your hair looks a bit frazzled and you look tired. Motherhood no doubt, but it looks like it’s agreeing with you. I’m guessing those two are my grandchildren?

Weiss:You would’ve known about Summer and Nicholas sooner if you bothered to ever call.

*there’s a very obvious chill in the room*

Weiss:Can you two please take them out the room? I want to speak with him alone.

* Whitley and Winter grab the twins and leave*

Weiss:There’s a reason you wanted to see me so out with it already.

Jacques:*stares at her* I just wanted to tell you goodbye. The life I gave you was full of pleasantries. However, as I lay here I can’t help but think of the countless flaws I made when I thought I’ve given you everything. For that, I’m so-

Weiss:Don’t you even say it! *breahes heavily* I don’t care if you are on your death bed; it’s too late for apologies. Do you have any idea what your so called “flaws” were?

Jacques:*just takes all of this rant*

Weiss:You had us crushed under your thumb so much it was unbearable. Mother drunk herself to any early grave because you! Pitted Whitley against us, kicking me out the family, and for what? To establish your name in this household forever!? My life felt like prison for so long and I’m not gonna let you get away with saying sorry. I hate you! *huff* *huff*

Jacques:....You’re right, I’ve caused you nothing pain as I threw nothing but obstacles in your way. I spent so much time trying to secure the family legacy that I didn’t bother to look at who actually has to continue with it. Even if you won’t accept it, I am truly sorry for that.

Weiss:*trembling*......

Jacques:I’ll admit that I’m impressed, with all of you. I put you three in a house basically devoid of love but it never stopped you from being able to find it; to have it. A wife with two kids and a husband, I couldn’t be prouder. *smiles weakly*

Weiss:Is....is there anything else you wanted me here for?

Jacques:I’ve said what I wanted to. From here on out it’s all you. If there’s anything left you want from then now is the time to ask.

Weiss:*walks up to his bed side* Open your arms.

Jacques:*follows orders* what’s this abou-

Weiss:*hugging him* You’re the worst you know that? It took dying for this to happen. *keeping herself together* Goodbye father.

Jacques:*hugging her back* Goodbye Weiss.

*two days later*

Siblings:*staring at his grave*

Weiss:He was never a good father, not the best man, and he had so many flaws. *tearing up*

Whitley:Yet here we stand, *crying* weeping for him. What the hell is wrong with us?

Winter:We saw what we knew he could’ve given all those years ago in just a few days. At the end of it all, he was a father. *wiping her eyes* and a part of us will miss that I suppose.

Weiss:Such is the unconditional love of a child. It’s....*tears run down her face*

*siblings hug her*

Weiss:It’s not fair.....

[apartment]

Weiss:I’m back...

Jaune:Hey, are you okay?

Weiss:I don’t know, it’s hard to really tell right now. I think I need sleep.

Jaune:You think you can handle one more surprise? *holds a letter with her symbol on it*

Weiss....*opens it* “Have the chance to make the family you always wanted. As of today your-” *drops letter*

Jaune:Weiss?

Weiss:My account, he unfroze it. I’ve been reinstated as part of family again. That means...

Jaune:Looks like paying rent and bills is no longer an issue. You’re rich again.

Weiss:*stares at her kids* No, we’re rich again.

#rwby #weiss schnee #whitley schnee #winter schnee #jacques schnee #jaune arc #rwby whiteknight #rwby twin snowflakes

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talesfromthesnogbox · 5 years ago

Text

Open and Honest

I’m a sucker for Mike/Hopper heart to hearts so here we are. Spoiler warning for Season 3 of Stranger Things! Anyways, I just wanted to write something! (ps what the fuck happened to that line thingy I used to use literally all the time)

Summary: It's been two years, but Hopper suddenly feels that he should continue his talk about boundaries... but this time, he wants to get it right.

Rating: General Audiences

aO3

~~~

Three hundred and seventy two days. It had been just over a full year that Hopper was detained in that hellhole in Russia, but now, he was home.

Well, not home per se. He was only a little bit surprised to hear that Joyce had gone through with her plans of moving to Maine, but it warmed his heart to know that she’d taken El with her.

It took months for Hopper to get back on his feet. Severely malnourished and exhausted beyond belief was the state that he was brought home in, and Joyce had done everything in her power to make it better. He wanted to be strong, he wanted to get better quickly, but it was a hard journey. Eventually, he did; as the months passed, the Hopper-Byers household witnessed him transform back into the reliable, loving, although sometimes misguided, man he’d been before he left.

He’d finally gotten that date with Joyce (although, not at Enzo’s), and though it had been a long time coming, the two made it official over Christmas. Not long after that (with some hesitation from Joyce), the family had agreed on moving back to Hawkins.

Nearly two years had passed since the initial move, and everyone was excited to have the party back together again, especially El. All she’d talked about the whole time they packed was how Lucas was going to teach her his favourite arcade games, Max was going to take her shopping, Dustin was going to take her to some movie called Spaceballs, but Mike… Mike was always the main topic of conversation.

Hopper wasn’t surprised to hear that his daughter was still with the scrawny kid who’d found her in the woods all those years ago. She’d always been entranced with him, so he thought it was puppy love, but now, they’d just turned sixteen, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but think that maybe it had turned into something more serious.

El had practically begged Hopper to let him come stay for the night last month for her sixteenth birthday. He didn’t want to give in to her, but he did, and boy had that boy ever changed.

Mike was tall. Like, really tall. Hopper hadn’t expected to almost be eye-level with the kid. He was still awkward and lanky as ever, but he’d grown into his features, and still looked at El like she’d hung the moon. The two were not kids anymore, but that didn’t mean that Hop had to like it.

“Remember the three inch rule!” He’d yelled as El dragged Mike up to her bedroom and rolled her eyes.

“Jim, lay off them a bit, it’s her birthday, she’s sixteen now.” Joyce spoke softly, dragging him away from the stairs.

“I will not lay off them, I remember exactly what my girlfriend and I were doing on my sixteenth birthday, and I do not wish to know my daughter and her boyfriend are following in my footsteps.”

“They’re good kids, Jim, and they’re not like that. El talks to me about this kind of stuff; her and Mike… they aren’t there yet.”

Hopper sighs, collapsing on the couch. Realization washes over him as he replays Joyce’s words in his head. She was right, they’re both good kids, a little mouthy, but he knew Mike respected him, and El. They’d been apart for so many months, maybe a few hours together alone wasn’t the worst.

“Fuck, I’m such an asshole.” He whispered, feeling ashamed with himself for being so hard on them.

“You’re a dad, you don’t want to see your little girl get hurt.” Joyce sat beside him and rubbed his arm lightly. “Sure, you can kinda be an asshole when it comes to Mike, but… we were friends in high school, I can see why you’re so protective of her around him.”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well… you had quite the reputation of a heartbreaker.”

Hop had no rebuttal; he knew Joyce was right. Mike wasn’t him, and he would never intentionally hurt El.

He started to get up, but Joyce stopped him. “Where are you going?”

“I did a bad thing, I scared the shit outta him, and it made them break up after that little boundaries talk. I need to go talk to him about it, tell the kid I don’t hate him.”

“Wait, right now? Hop, that was two years ago. If you go up there, they’re gonna think you’re trying to stop them from whatever’s going on.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Why, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, that’s my point. Give them their space, Hop. This is their time together.”

He reluctantly sat back down beside her, but he knew this conversation had to happen.

~~~

The move back to Hawkins went as smooth as a move possibly could have gone. Within a few weeks, the patchwork family was in their new home, and it only took a few days of being back for all the kids to settle back into their old routines.

It was the summer of 1987, and much like two years prior, Mike Wheeler made a daily appearance at the Hopper household.

“Come on Hop, what happened to the big apology speech you were going to give them a few months ago?” Joyce teased.

“That was before I had to see his smug little face every day, knowing he’s up there defiling my daughter.”

Joyce smacked him across the arm. “He’s not defiling her Jim, what they’re doing is perfectly innocent. And what exactly were you were doing in high school?”

“I wasn’t! I was… I was… oh shut up.”

“That’s what I thought. This is important, Jim, it’s only going to get worse from here if he thinks you don’t like him. Don’t give them a reason to have to sneak around behind your back, just be open and honest with them.”

“Open and honest, got it.”

The two teens in question chose that exact moment to come bolting down the stairs.

“I’m just walking Mike out, I’ll be right back!” El shouted from the front door.

Hop looked towards Joyce, her eyebrows rising, and he knew now was a better time than ever. He sighed, and followed the two teens to the front porch.

Of course they were kissing when he opened the door. “Oh god, um El, can—can you give us a few minutes?”

El looked at him questioningly, but it was Mike that spoke. “S-sure, I was just leaving. I’ll call you when I get home El, okay?”

The girl nodded and kissed her boyfriend chastely once more before disappearing inside.

“Wh—is something the matter Chief?”

“It’s… it’s um…” He tried to remember any bit of the speech he and Joyce had written, but that was a whole two years ago, he would have to go off books for this. “Have a seat kid.”

“Mike sat beside him on the small porch. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

“No, no you’re not in any trouble Mike. It’s just… um… I want to apologize.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I follow.” Mike replied after a moment.

“I… I know it was like two years ago at this point, and I don’t even know if you remember, but you were right, I was a lying piece of shit.”

Mike paled, remembering the conversation well. “Oh… well I was being a complete asshole to you too, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Hopper chuckled and put his hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Yeah kid, you kind of were. But that’s beside the point; I’m sorry, I was uncomfortable with how close you and El had gotten, I felt you were too young to be together like that all the time, and I was being a little too protective of El. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that on you, and I shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to lie to El because of it.” That wasn’t so hard, was it.

“Th-thanks Chief, but why are you saying all this now?”

“Because I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, and I don’t want you or El to feel like you have to sneak around behind my back; that’s the last thing I want, trust me, I used to do a lot of sneaking around at your age.” He sighed and wiped his face. “Look Mike, you’re a good kid, and I know you and El love each other. I don’t want you to hate me, and I don’t want to hate you. In fact… I actually kinda like you; you’ve been real good for her. I—I was locked up for a little over a year, and I had a whole lot of time to think about whether or not my daughter hated me for splitting you two up. You two are going to be a permanent fixture around here by the looks of things, so I want you to feel comfortable coming into my home.”

Mike smiled. “Thanks Chief.”

“But that being said, there does need to be some boundaries. I don’t know if you’ve got a curfew, but she does. Eleven thirty on the dot, you’re outta here, and don’t even think about sneaking in through her window. Tried that once when I was your age, her parents didn’t appreciate having to bring me to the ER for a broken ankle at two in the morning.”

Mike spit out a laugh, but swallowed it as soon as Hopper hit him with a glare.

“Three inch rule still applies until further notice. I know you guys think you’re all old and mature now that you’re sixteen, but you’re still kids, and still under my roof, and still following my rules. And I swear to god Wheeler, if I find out you’ve pressured her, or forced her into doing something she’s not comfortable with—”

“Wow, wow, hold on,” Mike interjected, “I love her and I would never… I always make sure we’re on the same page whenever—”

“Whenever what?”

Mike flushed. “It’s—it’s not like that yet. We’re not like that. But, when the time comes in… in a couple of years, I promise you I’ll ask her if it’s okay.”

“Good answer.”

He nodded, and the two fell into a comfortable silence. “Thank you Hopper, you’re a good dad, and we’re all happy you’re home.”

Jim knew how strained a relationship Mike and Ted had, so it meant a lot for him to say that. “Welcome, kid. I’m glad I’m back too. Missed you guys, all of you.” He bumped Mike with his shoulder, shooting him a friendly smile. “Alright, I better get in there before my daughter thinks I’m burying your body.”

Mike smiled and walked towards his bike. “See you tomorrow, Hop.”

“Yep, I sure will.” And for once, just once, he really didn’t mind it.

#mileven #mileven fic #stranger things fic #jopper #jopper fic #stranger things 3 spoilers #my writing

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pocketsizedsamwinchester · 5 years ago

Text

Mistakes Happen Part Two

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Talks of not wanting a baby.

Beta: @shay67ss

Danneel spent the night with you. You sobbed in her arms uncontrollably until you dozed off. When you woke up the next morning, a sick feeling came over you that made you want to throw up. You jumped up out of bed, startling Danneel awake and rushed to the washroom. After finishing throwing up your guts, you wiped your mouth and gargled water. Before you had gotten pregnant, the last time you had thrown up was when you were in middle school.

Weeks had passed and you felt as if you couldn’t even get out of bed. Your bump had grown and was now protruding outside of your pyjamas shirt as you refused to buy maternity clothes. Maybe if you didn’t acknowledge the pregnancy it would just… go away. You missed your last two appointments with Dr. Statem and you hadn’t been to work in a week. You were evading everyone’s calls, even Danneel’s calls and she was your only friend, at the moment. A knock on the main door of your apartment shook the entire room and startled you.

“Y/N!” The voice called out to you. “Please open up.”

It took you a moment to realize who it was.

Jared.

When you didn’t answer, the hallway went quiet. You figured (and prayed) that he had left. But before you knew it, there was jostling at your door. You heard it creak open.

“Thank you.” You heard Jared say to the person with the key who opened your door.

Your bedroom door, which was left open a crack, was pushed even further open to reveal a panicked looking Jared.

“Y/N are you okay?” He rushed over to your side and took a seat on the bed.

You nodded yes and looked away from him. Even just thinking about Jared brought back the memories of how hurt he looked when you weren’t going to tell him he was the father of your baby and how hurt Genevieve was when he told her.

“God, you look so sick, Y/N, have you been eating? Have you even been getting out of bed?” Jared gulped.

“Why are you here?” You grumbled.

“Your doctor called. You missed two appointments. You also haven’t been to work in a week. Whe-When I showed up here today and you didn’t answer… God, Y/N, I thought the worse.” Jared explained.

“Well… I-I’m fine. S-so you can go.” Your voice quivered.

“You don’t look fine, Y/N.” Jared sniffed.

“Does Gen know you’re here?”

“Gen isn’t my boss. And if you had shown up for work, you would’ve known that Gen and I are separated until she can decide if she wants to be with me or not.” Jared’s demeanour changed.

Clearly, Gen was a touchy subject at the moment for the both of you.

“You don’t need to be here.” You groaned, pulling yourself up to rest your back against the headboard.

Jared looked you up and down. He was nearly in tears.

“You gotta see a doctor, Y/N. You don’t even look like you anymore.”

“That’s because fat because I’m pregnant with your shouldn’t have been baby.” You grumbled.

“No. Y/N, you’re skin over bones. You look like a ghost. It smells like you haven’t showered since you last came to work and don’t call our baby that.”

You sighed and rested a hand on your bump. You pulled yourself over to the end of the bed and swung your feet over the side, letting them rest against the cool floor.

“You can go now, Jared. I don’t need your help.” You grumbled, pushing yourself up off the bed.

You took a step forward and immediately felt light headed. With another half step forward, you face planted into the floor and the last thing you remembered was darkness. You woke up to a steady, rhythmic beating. You looked around and grimaced when you tried to move your weak muscles to see what was taped onto your hand.

“Oh Good.” Dr. Monroe’s soft voice sounded at your bedside in the emergency room. “You’re awake. You had me worried there for a while.”

“Why am I here?” You rubbed your eyes.

“You collapsed, Y/N. You’re very ill- very dehydrated and very malnourished. Your baby’s heartbeat is very weak and you’ve got a very worried baby daddy pacing grooves in the hospital floor out there.” Dr. Monroe pointed to Jared.

“When can I go home?” You grumbled, watching Jared in the hallway.

“Not until you are in much better health than you are right now. You’re a very lucky woman, Y/N. Without that man out there, you would be without a baby in your uterus and probably without a heartbeat in your chest. I’m serious, not eating the proper meals and not getting the proper exercise will kill you.” Dr. Monroe warned.

“At this point, I could care less.” You grumbled.

“You don’t mean that, Y/N. Just imagine giving birth to your baby, getting to cuddle and love him or her. You’re going to love being a mom and you’re gonna be a great one.” Dr. Monroe promised.

You looked away from dr. Monroe and out the window as you felt tears streaming down your face. As much as you figured you’d be better off dead, dr. Monroe's speech made you realize that you could be a good mom if you started taking much better care of yourself. Comprehending the fact that you needed help from your friends made you cringe a little bit. But if that’s what it will take to have a happy and healthy baby? Then that’s what you were going to do. Jared began to stay with you, feeling the need to be close to one of his baby mommas. You worried that receiving so much help from Jared would drive him and Gen apart. You worried that he was spending too much time and attention on you and your baby, rather than his wife and her baby.

“Okay… I guess you’re right.” You sniffed, wiping away your tears.

“Of course I am. I’m your doctor- I know what’s best for you.” Dr. Monroe half smiled. “Can I let the father of your baby in? He’s really worried about you.”

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed.

Jared came in and took a seat by your bed. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at you, just sat and sniffed, wiping his nose into the arm of his jacket.

“Okay, you’ve got to say something.” You begged. “Anything.”

“Why?” His voice quivered.

“Why what, Jared? Why’d I let you get me into this mess? Why did I even tell you the baby was yours? Why is the sky blue? Why is a very open-ended question, Jared.” You hissed.

“Why did you do this to yourself- to our baby?” Jared looked at the ground then to you.

“I-I don’t know.”

“There must’ve been a reason.” Jared was starting to get frustrated now. “You don’t just wake up one morning and say ‘oh hey! My baby was a mistake so I’m going to kill it today by starving myself and possibly kill myself while I’m at it.”

“Jared the baby was a mistake!” You exclaimed.

“So?” Jared retorted. “That doesn’t mean you kill it! That’s wrong, Y/N. That makes you a murderer.”

You looked down to the foot of the bed where you were twisting your feet in circles and watched as the blankets moved up and then down as your eyes welled up with tears again.

“I’m just scared!” You sobbed. “I’m going to be a bad mom and I’m afraid that no one is going to love me- not even my own baby. Nobody is on my side right now and I just can’t live with knowing that I ruined your marriage and our friendship and my friendship with your wife- ex-wife - wife- whatever she is to you right now!”

This was only the second time that you referred to the baby as your own baby. You had always thought that if you didn’t acknowledge the baby as being yours, it would just go away. But problems never really go away by just ignoring them right?

“I’m on your side, Y/N. I’m always on your side. I was your friend before all this happened and now with our baby on the way, I intend on keeping it that way. I-I don’t know what’s going to happen between Gen and I but I know that I’m going to be there for her too.” Jared ran his hands through his hair. “I’m scared, Y/N. I was the one who cheated on my wife- you never forced me to do anything. I made that decision and it’s important that you know that. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what I did, okay? Just let me into your life and let me help you.”

Weeks had passed after the scare that landed you in the hospital. You reached out to Genevieve on multiple occasions- to settle things between you and her- but each time, Gen conveniently had something that prevented her from grabbing lunch with you.

“She hates me.” You frowned, piling a fork full of wound up spaghetti into your mouth.

“Join the club,” Jared grumbled. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Why? You don’t have to be… this was just as much my fault as it was yours.”

“No, I know, but Gen’s pissed that I moved in here to help you out. As if it wasn’t enough that she kicked me out of my own house and broke off the marriage.” He sighed.

“Are you two getting a divorce?” You asked curiously.

“Ummm… I don’t know. We’re on a break… she hasn’t said that she wants a divorce but it’s clear that she doesn’t want me right now.” Jared replied to your question.

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Okay, I think that’s enough for me.”

You pushed the plate away from you. You felt guilty- it was still half full and Jared was working overtime to make sure you were getting all the right nutrients from all four food groups.

“Are you sure? You only ate like… half.”

“I’m sure, Jared. I-I feel sick.”

“Okay. I’m not going to force you.” He half smiled.

Jared instinctively reached over to press a kiss against your cheek and you immediately pulled away.

“Let’s not make this some Ross and Rachel ordeal, okay? You’re still married- on a break or not. I’m not making that mistake again.” You warned.

“Right.” Jared frowned. “I'm sorry.”

You forgave Jared for nearly kissing you, but you had the right to refuse. His just being there with you was putting a strain on his already screwed up marriage. You were almost seven months into your pregnancy when Jared filed for divorce from Gen.

“Please Y/N, we’ve grown really close and I’ve been living here for months now,” Jared begged.

“Jared you’re not even divorced yet. You’re just separated.” You shrugged. “It’s still almost like cheating.”

“Except it’s not, Y/N. It’s not cheating, please, nothing has to happen until after I’m divorced but let me take you out on a date.”

You hemmed and hawed. It was a lot to think about. If you were being honest, you’ve waited for this moment for a while. Gen was right when she blew up at you-you didn’t love Jared, but you sure did like him. If you weren’t so damn stubborn, you could’ve had him before Gen even came into the picture.

“Okay, let’s go on a date.”

You agreed to let Jared take you out for a date and you did not regret it one bit. Jared definitely surprised you and you couldn’t wait until your next date. Being separated from Gen would have to be good enough. You wouldn’t dare sleep with him until after his divorce was finalized but all the other couple-y things were fair game. After your date when Jared kissed you, there were butterflies in your stomach- it kind of felt like when the baby first started kicking. Jared always liked to tease you when you got that butterfly feeling in your belly by saying that it was the baby farting and burping.

“That was… amazing.” You gulped, kissing him a second time.

“You’re amazing- thank you for letting me take you out tonight.” Jared smiled, pressing the third kiss against your lips.

The baby came on the 18th of March- it was Danneel’s birthday and she was so excited to have her niece born on her birthday. You and Gen had both went into labour on the 17th, she started having contractions in the morning and you started having them in the night. Your baby came the next day. You expected Gen to soon follow and have her little boy or girl the same day. Nonetheless, that stubborn little Padalecki refused to come out. Gen was a whole other day in labour before her little boy decided to come into the world.

“Y/N?” Gen whispered as she watched her little boy squirm in her arms.

It was just you and her in the room.

“Yeah?” You looked up from your nameless little girl to Gen.

“I’m sorry… for a lot of stuff. There were things that I said to you throughout our pregnancies that I really regret. What happened between you and Jared- it hurt a lot and I’m never gonna forget it, but I’m going to move on… for us and for the kiddos. They are brother and sister and they are going to be spending a lot of time together- I suspect so will we.”

“Yeah.” You quietly chuckled. “I-i never meant to hurt you, Gen. You were one of my best friends. I know we’ll probably never get back to where we were before all of this happened, I want us to be friends again. No matter which one of us is with Jared- I want us to be friends.”

“Agreed.” Gen ran her thumb over her baby’s cheek. “Let’s not let Jared get between us again.”

“What are you going to name him?” You asked curiously.

“Thomas Colton Cortese-Padalecki. Have you decided on a name for little miss yet?”

“No, and she’s not that little seven pounds eleven ounces.”

“Try nine pounds two ounces.” Gen retorted, giggling.

“Holy crap.” You let out a giggle. “I think I’m going to name her Delphine Geneva Padalecki. After her two non-biological but just as real aunties.”

“It’s beautiful.” Gen agreed. “Congratulations, momma.”

“Congratulations to you too, momma.” You grinned, playing with Delphine’s hair.

After nine long months of being pregnant and estranged from your best friend, everything worked out. You gave birth to a beautiful healthy little girl, you got the man of your dreams and you are now friends with Gen again. You couldn’t have asked for anything more than you already had at this present day.

Tags (for those of you who showed a great interest in part two:)):

@becs-bunker @sofreddie @squirrelnotsam @moosekateer13 @shay67ss

#Jared Padalecki #supernatural #supernatural imagines #supernatural pregnancy #supernatural imagine #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #danneel ackles #Gen Padalecki #Genevieve Padalecki #thomas padalecki #shepherd padalecki #odette padalecki #zeppelin ackles #arrow ackles #jj ackles #justice jay ackles #Sam Winchester #dean winchester

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letswritebangtan · 6 years ago

Note

Hii can i get a namjoon angst drabble with a fluff ending with 5, 14, and 40? Idk if youre going to be able to make it but thank you anyways 💜💚 (idkifmygrammarwasrightplsdontminditjtiridjgj)

wow ur so creative honestly it just makes writing even more fun!!

also dude, ur grammar…better than Shakespeare so i don’t see an issue

Prompts: “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

“Take. It. Off.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

“Where do you want to hang the ribbons, y/n?” your best friend Jimin asked you as he held up the violet coloured string against the wall, checking to see if it fit.

You shrugged, “Wherever you want.”

You didn’t mean to seem uncaring but you were just exhausted. You were getting married this weekend to your other half, Namjoon. You loved that boy with your entire heart and you couldn’t wait to tie the knot with him, but wedding planning wasn’t the most enlightening activity. People were always asking you questions, there were so many decisions to make, so many things to arrange, and the list just goes on and on. However, there was one thing that really concerned you, and that was your weight. by the wAy you really shouldn’t be because you’re absolutely damn beautiful ok? end of discussion.

You had found a perfect dress a few months ago, and you felt blessed to find a dress that complimented you beautifully. But, you did feel like the dress squeezed a little too hard at the wrong places, and you were very conscious about whether your stomach protruded the front of the dress, or whether your arms looked too flabby being held by the sleeves. When you said those things, your family was like r u dumb? but in a sort of nicer way, you know what I mean? They told you that it was nonsense and you looked stunning, which you did by the way, but sometimes those thoughts linger at the back of your mind and come out in the worst of times. Like now.

“Okay, I get it. Wedding planning taking a toll on you, huh? Well that’s not a problem, my friend, know why? Because your best friend in the whole entire world is going to take you out for some tea and cakes. What do you say?” Jimin asked as he extended his hand out toward you.

You smiled weakly at him, “You sound super British like that. Tea and cakes? Seriously?”

He chuckled, “Hey it sounds fancy, okay?”

You nodded and then sighed softly, “Yeah, thanks, Jimin, but I’m not really hungry.”

“You don’t have to be hungry to have tea,” he tried to reason.

You shook your head, “I’m just not feeling it, Jimin.”

He frowned slightly and let his shoulders drop. He nodded understandingly and then took your hands, pulling you up.

“Okay, then how about we take a walk by the river? Then have some ice cream?” he suggested.

“No, no ice cream,” you groaned.

“Alright, alright! Just a walk then?” he pleaded.

“Okay, a walk sounds nice,” you said thankfully, and let Jimin lead you out of the hall.

You’ve been watching what you ate lately. You really wanted to lose every inch of extra fat that you had so that you could look nice in your dress. But you overdid it. You starved yourself too much, that you constantly felt weak and sometimes even dizzy. You felt so dead inside, like there was no energy to keep you going. ya obviously bc ur not eating, god dammit y/n, ur fam was right, u dumb but u also beautiful as hell woman.

Jimin noticed your change in behaviour, in fact, most people did. Even Namjoon could sense that something was bothering you, but every time anyone asked you about it, you’d just shrug them off. You were determined to look good in that dress, and so you ate nothing but a few slices of fruit and some water everyday. Most of the time you’d skip breakfast, and by the time lunch came around you were practically starving, but you didn’t want to eat. how stubborn tsk tsk.

Whenever people offered you food, you’d decline, not wanting any extra calories entering your system. The thought of eating put you off, and you got annoyed and irritated with people when they’d tried to get you to eat something.

“y/n, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look well,” Jimin asked concerned.

“I’m fine, I just need to sleep it off,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think you’re tired, y/n. I mean, it’s not the tiredness that’s causing this. It’s something else. You look terribly unwell,” Jimin said seriously.

You huffed, “Jimin, I’m fine, really-”

“You’re not eating, y/n,” he cut you off.

You shot him a stare, a very angry and disappointed one.

“Just leave it alone, Jimin.”

The two of you didn’t say another word to each other as Jimin walked you home. You felt bad for arguing with him, he was just looking out for you. You reached the entrance of the apartment building and turned to Jimin to thank him for walking you home. He just nodded and gave you a small awkward smile, and then left. You groaned inwardly at how mean and stupid you were being. You made it a point to make it up to him tomorrow. As you walked into the building, you saw Namjoon waiting at the lobby. He turned to you and smiled, and you grinned back at him, walking over so that he could pull you into his arms.

“Hi, baby. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” Namjoon said as he kissed the top of your head.

“I was feeling a little tired, so I thought I’d leave the decorating for tomorrow,” you sighed and looked up at him. He was at least a head taller than you.

Then you looked over and saw him carrying a white bag. You frowned in confusion and pointed to it, “What’s that?”

Namjoon glanced at the bag and then back to you. “Oh, I brought us dinner. It’s been a long time since we sat down and ate together, just the two of us, so I bought some of your favourites. I thought we could catch up on your favourite shows and munch on these.”

The mentioning of food made you feel slightly sick.

“Oh, Joon, why didn’t you tell me you were getting dinner? I’m not really that hungry, I don’t think I could eat anything right now,” you said slightly panicked.

He frowned, “But it’s only seven. And all you ate for lunch were some apples, right? Did you have anything after that?”

“I, um, no I didn’t, but I’m really quite full,” you tried to reason.

He shook his head, “No, y/n, you need to eat. Plus I already bought all this food, I can’t let it go to waste. Just eat some of it, at least. Please, babe?”

You sighed in defeat. You had already fought with Jimin, you didn’t want to upset Namjoon too. Maybe you’d eat like five grains of rice and a little bit of soup. That didn’t sound too bad. five grains of rice??????? wtfdjskddjs

Once inside the apartment, Namjoon went to prepare the plates and scooped some food onto yours before bringing it back to the sofa where you were trying to find something nice to watch. He handed you the plate and your stomach churned just looking at that pile of calories. You took the plate from him hesitantly and mumbled a small ‘thanks’ and he sat down next to you with his own food. The two of you watched the movie as you ate, but you had hardly eaten a spoonful of anything. Namjoon was already finished with his food when he saw that the food on your plate was untouched.

“Everything okay, y/n?” he asked concerned.

You looked at him and smiled, “Yeah, all good.”

He nodded back at you and then went to the kitchen to do the dishes. From the kitchen, Namjoon saw that you were picking apart grains of rice on your plate, and pushing some meat aside, but you weren’t actually eating anything. Then he took in your figure. You were so damn skinny, you felt like a pile of bones. He felt how weak you were when he hugged you earlier, and your face just wasn’t as bright anymore. It was dull, weakened, you looked starved. Namjoon thought back to these past few months, and he realised that he never saw you eat a proper meal, not even once. Your excuses were that you weren’t hungry, or that you had already eaten, but Namjoon wasn’t with you 24/7 to observe what you ate everyday. Since the wedding was coming up, the two of you had to run around and sort out different things, so Namjoon would always call to ask if you’ve eaten and you would always say yes but who’s to say that you actually did?

It saddened him very much, to see his soon to be wife look almost malnourished. He figured he’d have to ask you about it now, and this time he wasn’t going to let you shrug it off so easily. So he marched back into the living room, and turned off the television before sitting next to you.

“Hey, what was that for?” you asked.

“y/n,” he sighed, “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

You paused for a moment, looking down at your plate, and then faced him again.

“Nothing’s wrong, Joon. I’m just not hungry,” you said calmly.

“Well why aren’t you hungry, y/n?” he asked in a more serious tone.

You took a deep breath and then exhaled loudly, placing your plate on the coffee table.

“If this is about wasting the food then-”

“y/n, this is not about the food. It’s about you. Why aren’t you eating?”

You huffed, “What is it with people forcing me to eat all the time? I’ll eat when I want to!”

“You’re starving yourself,” he snapped.

You looked at him angrily, “Am not!”

“Yes, you are, y/n! I haven’t seen you eat a proper meal in months. Whenever people offer you food, you reject it. Whenever someone asks you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, whatever it may be, if it involves food, you don’t want it. Why? Why is that, y/n? What the hell are you up to?” he argued.

That’s when you let a tear fall. You stood up and began to walk towards the stairs but Namjoon held your hand tightly and pulled you back.

“I won’t let you walk away from it this time, y/n. You have to tell me what’s going on. I’m really worried about you, we all are! Just look at you y/n, you look so fragile as if me just holding you could shatter you into pieces. This is extremely bad for you,” he said holding you tightly.

You exhaled shakily and let out a small sob. “Namjoon, let me go.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he said sympathetically.

You let your head fall onto Namjoon’s shoulder and he held you firmly, caressing the back of your head. You cried and cried while he rubbed your back, soothing you. You let everything out, all your pent up anger and sadness, all your pain, all the frustrations you felt towards yourself, you cried it all out.

“You’re right,” you wailed. “Oh god, you’re so right. I’m sorry, Joon, I really am.”

He sighed, “Baby, don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

“I wanted to look nice in the dress,” you cried, struggling to breathe properly.

“You mean the wedding dress?” he asked in confusion.

You nodded, sniffling.

“y/n, what are you talking about? That dress looked gorgeous on you, so much that it appalled everyone. Do you know how much I wish I was there to see it?”

“B-but it shows my stomach, a-and it makes me look big-”

“y/n,” he stopped you. “Who told you those things, hm?”

You sighed, “No one.”

“Did anyone ever tell you how insanely beautiful you are? Inside, and out?” he asked as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“N-no,” you faltered.

He tutted, “Are you sure?”

You looked up at him and he was smiling softly down at you. He was cupping your cheeks in his big hands, wiping the tears running down your face.

You laughed softly, “You. You did.”

He nodded, “That’s right, baby.”

“There is nothing wrong with you, y/n. Absolutely nothing. There should never be a reason for you to do such a thing to yourself. I love you so, so much, and only because you’re you. You are everything that I could possibly want, and I’m honestly so lucky to have you. So don’t even think about changing yourself in any way because I love this,” he paused to pinch the sides of your hips, making you squeal.

“And this,” he continued, and then moved his hands down to squeeze your ass, making you laugh wholeheartedly.

“And this,” he said moving his hands to your breasts but you were quick to stop him, making the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

Then he moved his hands to your face, squeezing your cheeks, “Also this,” he murmured, and then moved forward to kiss your lips.

“I love all of this. I’m in love with all of you, y/n,” he breathed out finally.

You looked up at your fiancé with so much adoration, and let out another small cry.

“Baby, no, why are you crying now?” he asked concerned, quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“I just, I love you so much, Joon. I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sniffled.

He smiled softly at you, and kissed you again, pouring all of his love and lust into the kiss. Soon the two of you were kissing each other feverishly, hands everywhere. Namjoon pulled away first, gasping for air.

“y/n, I want to see you,” he said breathily.

You gasped and looked at him eyes half closed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, baby. If I can, that is?” he asked carefully.

“Of course you can,” you groaned and kissed him again.

Namjoon pulled your shirt off of your body, and then moved to unclasp your bra, but um, he was taking too long.

“Take. It. Off.” you groaned impatiently.

“It’s not my fault these things are so complicated,” he whined.

You loved your sweet and silly fiancé.

ok joon. we get it

I hope this was okayy I tried my best. thank you so much for requesting! do help to like and reblog pretty please

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elena2 · 5 years ago

Text

Cleaning up my closet (end of the decade recap)

I started this decade today we’re leaving behind by being involved on a serious car crash where a drunk driver changed the path of my life forever. I got severely injured by it physically and emotionally. I took me a decade to get fully recovered physically and mentally. But the will to live guided me every step of the way and even though nobody wants to be involved in extremely hurtful things, I learned and grew a lot because of it.

I started this decade by leaving an abusive boyfriend behind. I started on a journey of self-love and self-worth.

This decade I buried three of my most beloved pets, Conxi, Kaoru and Mini.

This decade I said my final goodbyes to my great aunt who fought Alzheimer’s and my grandpa who lost his battle to cancer and never got to see me in full bloom before his departure.

This decade I said goodbye to the big city and a great job for a more simple lifestyle on my journey to recovery.

This decade I welcomed my first and only nephew and I’m happy to see the little man he’s becoming and see the results of the good influences I have exposed him to.

This decade I found a man (my doc) who in a way became my family. Even when I wanted to give up he never let me, even when I didn’t believe that I would be able to he’d push me further. Doctors, for professional reasons can’t get too involved in their patients lives. But he saw I was there, in need, and he would call to check on me in between visits and kept on pushing so hard on me that he guided me out of the whole I had fallen into. I will never be able to thank him enough for having been there every step of the way. You might think it’s corny but have you seen ‘The Horse Whisperer’?

I was Pilgrim and he was Tom Booker. And he single-handedly managed to do that with me.

I will be forever grateful to that old, cranky and magnificent example of what a human being should be.

This decade I started volunteering at an animal shelter and I cannot even begin to explain how grateful I am for that.

This decade I got a certificate as a dog trainer, a thing that had nothing to do with my previous career path but slowly and surely came to realize was more me than my previous self.

This decade I did on stray, malnourished and abused dogs the same the doctor did on me and Buck Brannaman does on horses.

It takes a lot of empathy, something that it is innate in me, but a lot of dedication as well.

There is something about looking to a pair of eyes that have been shattered due to life circumstances and not pity on them but instead start to build a better future for them. It is something really hard and heartbreaking to see tho tiny eyes not even looking at you directly, scared for their life and on the edge of giving up on life and going every single day. show them that they can trust once again, that there is love, passion, compassion and care out there, restore their health, show them that there is trust and love and joy and there and that they are worthy.

Leaving some days with bite marks but returning the following day with the same dedication, love and determination up until those tiny eyes regain the sparkle, the trust, the joy and find a forever home for them and know that in a way, in my own tiny way, I give back what was given to me at some point.

i’ve cried heartbreaks with them and we’ve danced (yes, dancing with dogs) to the joyful times. I’ve been their therapist and they’ve been mine as well.

I’ve passed onto them the motto to never give up, because eventually, things turn the right way.

This decade I kissed goodbye to Foxy the first furry friend I promised to myself and her that I would adopt but had to let her go to a family that was more ready because I still needed to find my inner balance.

We said our final goodbyes to Xut, Flash, Thor, Lucky, Blanca… But we fought and stood tall up until the very last moment.

This decade I decided to let go of toxicity and by doing so, I said goodby to some friends and acquaintances that were not bringing light into my life.

This decade I read a lot.

This decade I discovered the real power of Law of Attraction (and the 12 Universal Laws for that matter) and discovered it truly works.

I discovered the power of mindset, that I had had in the past but never put a label on it because I didn’t know it even existed.

This decade I discovered that plenty of people use Law of Attraction but they very seldom speak about it because they don’t want to be labeled as daydreamers and what not. I realized this is a hidden message that it is included in songs, movies, books and it’s been with us ever since the break of dawn of humanity in some way, shape or form.

This decade I built a forever future for me only to discover I had taken a wrong route and had to start over once more.

But I didn’t take it as badly as I would have a decade ago. Some things are just not meant to be and if the shoe doesn’t fit, get yourself a shoe that does. Plain and simple.

This decade I teamed up with resilience and realism as one cannot even imagine.

This decade I learned to speak up when I need to, to cry when I needed to and to love myself for who I am as well as celebrate with joy the little victories.

This decade I learnt to say YES when I meant to and NO when I meant to.

I learned that it is OK to not be OK all of the time.

This decade I learned to learn from the not so great things we might come across in life and to cherish all the good ones that life bring to us.

I started out this decade being a completely noob in life and I feel it’s safe to say that by the end of the decade I graduated from chapter 2.

Because let’s face it, you always keep on learning, falling, standing back up and moving forward and the day you fully graduate from life is the day you leave for good and I don’t expect that to be any decade soon!

This decade I discovered myself even more and in more way I would ever have hadn’t I started the decade in a hospital bed.

But this has been a decade of growth of planting crops and water them and work the land of my soul.

What I wish for the next decade is to harvest everything that I so carefully planted. I wish for a decade of growth, settling down, finding a place and a face to call home, start a beautiful and loving family of my own. I wish to say more hello’s than goodbyes. I wish for a decade of plenty in the best way possible. Let’s all wave goodbye to this decade that is finally coming to an end and welcome in the best way possible this new not only decade but era altogether.

Happy 2020!

#antennahelena #2020 #decade #end of the decade #recap #growth #overcoming #adversity #new hope #new light #resilience #love

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monigheandonn1743 · 6 years ago

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The Diary

Sorry, I had intended this to be an update of Ceart, but I left the house today without my notebook with information I needed for the next chapter.

So I figured something was better than nothing, and wrote this instead 😘

Chapter 7

Jesus Christ what the hell am I doing?

He dropped the pen onto the bed and brought his shaking hands up to rub at his face. It had been almost an hour since the diary had reappeared, but he was still in shock. In the blink of an eye his whole life had changed. Everything he’d ever believed had suddenly been shot to shit and he was struggling to come to terms with it.

He’d read, and reread her words over and over again trying to let it sink in. They were real: she was real. But the truth was so fantastical that he just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The evidence was right there in front of him, but he didn’t know how to rationalise something like this.

How could he?

How could anyone?

Accepting something so extraordinary required a massive shift in his psyche, and it left him feeling like the world had just been ripped out from under his feet. He’d lived his whole life in black or white. Things were either possible or impossible, right or wrong, acceptable or unacceptable. There was no middle ground, he didn’t have the time or the patience to flounder in the grey areas.

But that was exactly where he found himself now.

Two of the greatest minds to have ever lived had believed that this very thing could happen. That an occurring event, or in this case an object, could be witnessed by different people at different times. But those events were meant to take place somewhere out in deep space, not in the middle of the Scottish fucking highlands.

Yet it was happening. Here, now…or then…almost three hundred years in the past.

Or both.

Shit.

It was a complete mind fuck.

He’d been on auto pilot when he’d rushed down to his car for a pen, and set himself up on the bed to write back to her. But as he sat, trying to decide what to say, his mind was suddenly flooded with what if’s and maybe’s. Even if he did just simply accept that he was witness to some divine event, or groundbreaking scientific discovery. If he wrote back, and she read his response, his actions could have untold consequences.

One wrong word from him, and like the preverbal flutter of a butterflies wings, the whole world could change. If she was his ancestor he could say something that could alter his whole life, or end it completely, as though he’d never even existed. Or he could be responsible for world war three, or some other catalytic event that destroyed humanity.

But on the other hand, maybe the world exists the way it does because he was supposed to reply and if he didn’t, the world could end tomorrow.

Shit. I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.

Reply or don’t reply?

If he replied, he’d have to really accept that she was a living, breathing woman. He couldn’t go in half arsed, constantly doubting her existence. It would be cruel to her, and he would eventually end up driving himself crazy.

But if he didn’t reply, then he needed to destroy the diary and never think of her again.

His stomach knotted at the though and he knew he had his answer. He had to respond, for himself and for her.

At this point he knew next to nothing about her, but what he did know was that, despite her obvious strength, she was also extremely fragile. She was living in poverty, close to starvation, and hiding from a man that had caused her harm.

She’d claimed to be unafraid of him, and if he hadn’t read the rest of her diary, he would have believed her. But he’d seen the false bravado in her last entry, and he knew that she was scared.

Christ, so was he.

But at least he had some idea of what was happening. She didn’t have a clue, and he had no idea how to explain it to her.

He hadn’t considered it before, but for a woman in the eighteenth century, she was surprisingly well educated. That she could read and write at all indicated that she must have been from an affluent family. But at least she stood a greater chance of understanding.

With a sigh, he reached for his pen again and brought the diary up to rest on his bent knees.

17th June

Firstly, allow me to apologise for defacing your diary with my untidy scrawl. Writing in somebody else’s diary isn’t something I’d normally do, but as it’s the only means I have to respond to your questions, I didn’t have much choice.

Actually, perhaps the first thing I should have apologised for, is reading your diary in the first place. It was wrong, but I hope that with time you’ll come to understand why I did it.

You ask me who am I, and where I am. Both are relatively easy questions to answer. But, without a doubt, they will only lead to more questions.

Questions that demand an open mind and a complete absence from reality.

My name is James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser, and I’m currently sat in the rear west bedroom, on the first floor of Lallybroch House.

Your bedroom.

My bedroom: for now at least.

You were right in your assumption that I’m not a ghost, in fact I’m very much alive, in my time at least. In yours I haven’t even been born, and I won’t be for another 235 years.

I have absolutely no idea how this is even possible. It shouldn’t be, and I’ll admit that after I saw you disappear from the garden, I questioned my sanity.

The last Laird, Robert Fraser, died three years ago and the estate was left to me. I’ve lived in Edinburgh most of my life, and until his lawyer contacted me two years ago, I had no idea that Lallybroch even existed. Work commitments kept me away until yesterday, and it was shortly after I arrived that I found your diary.

I was replacing the old mattress when it fell to the floor, and as the house had been empty for so long, it’s newness surprised me. That was the reason I opened it. I wanted to know who had been living in the house.

But I read it because you fascinated me.

It seems, that for whatever reason, the diary exists in both times simultaneously. The only time it seems to disappear from here, is when you’re writing in it. Twice now, it’s vanished completely, and the last time I actually saw it disappear from the windowsill, and reappear an hour later on the bedside table.

I’m not sure if it’s the same for you, but I imagine it is.

So, to answer your remaining questions.

No, Claire, I have no agenda. I’m not here to hurt or scare you. Jonathan hasn’t sent me, and I want nothing from you. But by my own admission, I am apparently a voyeur to your life.

I have no wish to invade your privacy, as I said, it was wrong of me to do so in the first place. So if you place it beneath your mattress, I promise that I will never look again. But if you do wish to respond, leave it on the windowsill in the evening, and I’ll be happy to read what you have to say.

I’ll leave by saying, that unfortunately you’ll find no satisfaction here in saying I told you so.

Your life is anything but dull.

I only wish there was something I could do to help you.

He read over his words twice, trying to imagine what her reaction would be, and failing miserably. With perfect recall, he could see her beautiful face, staring up at him in shock. He could see the fear and surprise in her dark eyes, and the slight parting to her full, rosy lips. But people of the eighteenth century were more open to the unexplainable. Especially in Scotland, where tales of water horses, fairy hills and witchcraft would still be running rampant.

She might just accept it easier than he had, or she could run for the fucking hills. But either way, he wouldn’t find out unless he put the diary down.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the book, and wrapped the leather laces securely around the cover, before leaning over and placing it carefully on the bedside table. It vanished almost instantly, as though, like him, she’d been sat waiting for it to reappear. His lips twitched, but the realisation that he might never see it again, kept a full smile from materialising.

There was so much more he wanted to say, hundreds of question he wanted to ask, and a thousand things he wished he could do to aid her. He’d never felt so helpless in his life. He had more money than he could spend in five life times. Easy access to medicine, food, and protection should he ever need it.

Yet there she was, with absolutely nothing. They were foraging for food in the wild, just to keep from starving to death. Children were sick and dying due to malnourishment. And at any moment, her husband, a man she had described as sick and twisted, could find her and cause her serious harm.

Yeah, he felt completely fucking helpless.

His head fell back against the bed and he closed his eyes. There had to be something he could do. Maybe he could send the things she’d need through the diary? If he could get hold of some old coins, he could enclose them in the pages.

Surely that would work?

Even if she didn’t want him to read it again, he could still slip them inside without breaking his promise. A promise that would be next to impossible to keep.

He didn’t really know anything about old coinage, so he dug his phone out of his pocket, and pulled up google. While he went through one website after another, checking the currency, converting it to modern values, and searching auction houses, his eyes constantly drifted to the bedside table.

The diary hadn’t turned back up, and although he was tempted to check under the mattress, he didn’t. It had only been half an hour, but he could already feel the disappointment creeping in and he wasn’t quite ready to deal with her rejection.

It was ridiculous, he didn’t really form emotional connections to anyone. His parents had all but destroyed that part of him as a child. But there was just something about her that had drawn him in. Even when he thought he was going crazy, he still hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind.

Maybe it was their unique situation, or maybe the fact that he’d seen into her private mind, or even a classic case of white knight syndrome. He wasn’t usually drawn to damsels in distress. He was more likely to have a fling with a professional, self assured woman. They were less needy and complicated, and like him, tended to have less time and inclination for a long term relationship.

But he was safe from that with Claire. Not only did she live almost three hundred years in the past, but she wasn’t a classic damsel. She needed help, desperately, but she was a fighter. He had a feeling that, if her husband did find her, she’d go down throwing punches.

And she could be his fucking grandmother.

It took him awhile to find what he was looking for. It seems that guinea’s from the first half of the eighteenth century were pretty rare…or he was shit at searching. But for just under seven grand, he found and purchased six.

One, five guinea coin, one, two guinea coin, and four, one guinea coins.

Apparently that was just over eleven pounds, the equivalent of one thousand three hundred pounds in today’s money. It wasn’t a massive amount, but until he knew whether it would work or not, it would be enough to put food on the table.

If there was any available to buy.

“Fucking hell!”

He slammed his head against the wood behind him, and scrubbed at his face. They were completely fucking isolated at Lallybroch, and every family in the highlands was suffering the same fate. There was no food to be had, so having money wouldn’t help.

It would most likely just get them in trouble with the scavenging redcoats.

Why the hell haven’t they left for the colonies already?

She’d mentioned that William had asked his cousin for passage in the spring. But that was months ago, why the hell were they still there? If it was because of lack of funds, he’d supply them with all they would need to make a new life in America.

If he could send them.

He rolled his head, and opened his eyes to look at the table, but it still wasn’t there. Sighing, he pushed to his feet, and quickly pulled his t-shirt up over his head. He was exhausted, and the lads would be back at seven in the morning.

After placing his t-shirt over the back of the chair, he kicked off his shoes, and unfastened his jeans. He was just about to push them down, when movement by the window caught his eye. His head span so fast, that pain shot down his neck and shoulder, and he grabbed at it as he stared at the place he’d swear to God he’d just seen her.

“Claire?” He called stupidly as his eyes darted from one end of the empty room to the other. There was no sign of her, but he’d definitely seen her, he knew he had. She’d been stood by the window, in a plain white nightdress, with her long wavy hair falling down her back.

With his heart lodged in his throat, he slowly walked toward the window, and with a huffed laugh and a shake of his head, he picked up the diary.

Believe me when I say, Mr Fraser, a disappearing diary is not the most astonishing thing I have ever witnessed. So if you wish to shock me, you must expand your imagination beyond your birth in the year of our lord 1982.

It did not escape my notice that you conveniently omitted the current year from your entry, so I am left to ponder when it is that you live, and of course, your age. I know you are not an old man, for I have seen you with my own two eyes, but it was hard to discern your precise age from such a distance.

From that one glimpse, I would presume that you are younger than William, who is now one and thirty. Your untidy scrawl notwithstanding, you write relatively well, but your use of contractions suggest a certain laziness that could be attributed to youth.

But what man below the age of eighteen would site work commitments as an excuse for neglecting his inheritance?

So, I would estimate that you now reside somewhere between the year 2000 and 2012. Am I close, Mr Fraser?

I will admit that pondering a time so far in the distance, does boggle my mind. What is it like? Has the world changed much? I would assume that as a man that can read and write, you must have had a tutor at some point. Did you study history with him? Do you know how things are for me?

I will also say that it offers me great comfort to know that Lallybroch is still standing, and still owned by the Fraser’s. William is working tirelessly to sow the lands, but if the harvest is as abysmal as it was last year, I was afraid that we would not survive here.

But enough of the doom and gloom.

You know a lot of my secrets, James Fraser, I think it only fair that you tell me yours.

If a time traveling diary is not enough to shock you, I honestly dread to think what it is that you’ve seen.

Because it shocked the shi heck out of me.

But having said that, people are more sceptical of the unknown in 2018. They look to science for an explanation, and myths and legends are nothing more than stories told to children. So perhaps it’s modern advancement that would shock you, rather than a divine intervention.

You mentioned that William was arranging for you to sail to the colonies. I’d like to know why you haven’t gone. Yes, the voyage would be dangerous, but you’d be safe there, away from your husband, and well fed.

Speaking of the voyage, you may be interested to know, that if I left Lallybroch now, I could travel to Glasgow, and from there to America (the colonies) in less than twelve hours.

I’ll let you ponder the possibility of that one.

The world has changed a great deal, and I will try to explain one of our advancements with each entry. I’ll start with cars as we are on the subject of travel.

A car is a metal carriage, run on its own power, without the need of horses. (Horses are really only ridden for pleasure now). They can travel at high speeds over long distances, which is why it only took me four hours to get to Lallybroch from Edinburgh.

Does that count as one of my secrets?

No?

I do have many, Miss Beauchamp, I’m not a man to share my thoughts with others, and my feelings are hidden even from myself. But you’re right, fairs fair, and I can pair one in with your reference to Lallybroch.

I’m an architect and I’ve devoted my life to designing, building, and renovating properties. I also own a lot of land in Scotland and northern England, and spend what free time I have working to restore the highland culture. But both jobs can be stressful, and I’ve nearly worked myself to death.

I was mist sick as a child, and unbeknown to anyone, the sickness left my heart vulnerable, and the stress has made it worse. Three weeks ago, I suffered a heart attack, (apoplexy I think you call it) and landed myself in the hospital. I will admit to no-one but you, a veritable stranger, that it terrified me. To actually feel my heart stop beating, was the single most horrifying experience of my life.

And like you, I’ve had a few.

It made me extremely aware of my own mortality, and I still feel the cold fingers of death gripping me.

It was that which brought me to Lallybroch.

I needed to escape from my life, and this was the perfect place. The old laird had let the house fall in to disrepair. So I came here to begin the renovations. As it turns out, my employees won’t let me complete the work alone, and I now have a team of fifteen working with me. We dismantled the ground floor today, and will start on this floor tomorrow.

That’s why I requested that you leave your diary on the windowsill. There will be no furniture in here after tomorrow. So if you place it on the bedside table, or under your mattress, I won’t be able to find it.

But enough about me. With your initial reprimand, you haven’t written about your day, and as your official voyeur, I would like to know what you have been doing.

If you have suffered a heart seizure, and miraculously survived, should you not be confined to your bed? Continuing to work will surely only exasperate the problem. It seems to me as though it is a good thing that you have help, although I do not think you should be working at all.

Consider that a new reprimand.

To answer your question with regards to our passage to the colonies. You will know, of course, voyeur that you are, that we lost young Rabbie in March. Mary is still understandable devastated, as are we all, and as yet, she is unable to bring herself to leave her son behind. William has attempted to make her see reason, but she refuses to go, and he will not travel without her.

Maybe if the journey was as little as twelve hours, he might have had more luck. How is that possible? Not by car surely, for if it takes four hours to get to Edinburgh, it would take much more than twelve to travel across the ocean.

And I have yet to see a carriage that can sail.

I will admit, you have shocked and stumped me, Mr Fraser.

I too have felt the icy fingers of death, and I feel them closer still each time that Jonathan returns to the area. I do not know why he suspects that I am here, I have no previous ties to Lallybroch, I was just fortunate enough to find shelter with the family.

But I know that he knows, and I fear for William as much as I do myself. He has a short temper, and Janet informed me that he was very close to being carted off to Fort William at their last encounter. The English are extremely hostile toward the Scots, and a redcoat needs no excuse to run a highlander through.

Jonathan needs less than most.

But you ask about my day. Janet, Mary and I have been about the most ladylike task of dying wool. We chose red today, and for the life of me, I can not get the stain, or the scent of urine, out of my hands.

I look as though I have slaughtered a pig.

But such is the work of a woman.

I am sorry to hear that Lallybroch has fallen into such a state of disrepair, that it now requires dismantling, and I can only hope that you do not mean the whole house itself. But I can not regret it, for without its mismanagement, you may never have come.

And for that I would be very sorry indeed.

Which is strange, is it not?

I should be terrified, and suspicious of your claims of being from 2018. Yet no fear or distrust resides within me. I do not know you at all, and you know me only a little more. Yet, since the moment I saw you standing in my window, I have been drawn to you in a way that I cannot explain. I have read your words but twice, but I feel as though I have known you forever.

And I cannot remove you from my thoughts.

Why is that do you think?

I should not feel as comfortable as I do, being so forward and sharing my secrets with an unknown man. Just as I should be mortified at asking for yours, but I do not.

It is just the opposite in fact.

I long to know everything about you, and for you to know all of me. But with so much to say, and so few pages left to write on, I fear we will run out of time before I am ready to say goodbye.

There is always a way.

He scribbled the last on the corner of an envelope, ripped it off and placed it within the pages of the diary. Then he stepped back and waited. But she had either given up for the night, or something had gone wrong.

As the diary didn’t vanish. It stayed exactly where he had placed it on the windowsill.

#outlander #jamieandclaire #outlanderfanfiction #thediary

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carnistcervine · 6 years ago

Text

A Beating Heart

Nines gets a kitty. c: This was honestly inspired by a picture of a injured(damaged?) RK900 holding a kitten.

~x~

It was a chilly Detroit night as RK900 made it's way home after completing it's latest mission. While the crime scene had initially looked to be a break in and missing person's case, it had turned out to be nothing more than an accident while playing hide and go seek. The baby sitter had slipped on a toy and crashed into a bookshelf and glass table. While her injuries were serious, she would likely make a full recovery. The child had been frightened by the noise and remained in their surprisingly good hiding place. If the android didn't have it's bio-sensors the child would have likely not been found. Naturally, Nines had been the one to solve the case as Gavin hung out in a corner being useless and hurling insults at it. Insults so petty that even if Nines had feelings to be hurt, it still would have been rolling it's optical components. Once the case had been solved, Gavin took off without the RK900, leaving it to walk home. It didn't mind though, it didn't feel cold nor did it have emotions to be impacted by Gavin's callousness.

The android suddenly paused, it's LED flickering yellow in contemplation. It had heard something. The noise was very faint, and indeed only barely registered in it's auditory processor, but it was a noise all the same. While RK900 did not experience curiosity, it's investigative protocols seemed to kick in from the noise. It supposed that it wouldn't hurt to see what the cause was, after all it could be a crime in progress or a person that needs help. As an officer of the law, it's main mission is to protect and serve the people.

The closer that Nines got to the sound, the more it determined that the sound was most definitely not human. It went into an abandoned alleyway, sensors on high alert in case this was meant to be a trap. Anti-android traps weren't exactly uncommon. They were completely illegal though. RK900 knelt down in front of a small box, one hand on it's gun and the other carefully reaching into the desecrated cardboard stack. There was definitely something in there, and Nines' bio-scanner could only detect faint signs from one source. The inside of the box. It removed it's hand from it's gun and gently pulled the critter from the box to get a better look at it.

"Mew!" A tiny orange tabby greeted the android. The kitten wiggled around, and Nines kept a gentle, but steady grip on the furry critter. It let out quiet, but steady mews and the android looked it over. First thing of note, the kitten seemed to be only about two weeks old, female, and possibly orphaned. Nines looked around and back at the cold and malnourished kitten. Definitely orphaned. Also of note, the kitten's internal temperature was dangerously low. She will die soon if RK900 doesn't help her. Of course, caring for animals, baby animals especially was not in it's programming. It didn't go against it, but it wasn't within the parameters of what was expected from it. And yet, despite this, Nines found itself tucking the small, chatty thing into it's jacket. Androids didn't produce heat like mammals do, while it was true that the electrical conduction happening in their processors and inner workings did give off heat, the thirium that fueled them also acted as a coolant. It meant that androids were almost always room temperature or cooler. It was one of the things that made them distinguishable from humans. But in that moment, the only thing preventing a cold death for that poor kitten was the climate inappropriate fabric making up the android's jacket. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

With the kitten secured, Nines made it's way to the nearest animal shelter. The local municipal shelter was thankfully still open, even if Nines had only managed to come in a few minutes before they closed for the night. Being a public shelter, they would have to take the tiny tabby in. The squirrely young man at the counter was cleaning up when he saw RK900 approaching. He immediately stiffened once he caught sight of the android. He was obviously intimidated, but RK900 didn't care. The android approached the man.

"I found this-" the human flinched as RK900 reached into it's jacket, only to relax when it pulled the kitten out. "In a box outside. It's hypothermic, malnourished, dehydrated, and likely abandoned." The young man's eyes softened as he grasped the small kitten.

"Poor baby..." He cooed softly, cradling the infant tabby to his chest. He gave Nines a grave look. "We don't have any volunteers available to care for this kitten, unfortunately. So, if you are unable to take her, we'll have to euthanize her." RK900 remained stoic, and the man cast his gaze to the side. "However, if you'd be willing to keep the kitten, I'll feed her and give her some treatment right now and I could give you some supplies to care for her."

RK900 was a machine, it ran off protocols and functions. It did not feel, it could not feel. And unlike it's predecessor, it did not go deviant and start simulating human emotions. Even the steady thrum of the thirium pump in it's chest was only a utility meant to keep it functional. It wasn't like a beating heart. And yet still, the RK900 found itself accepting the young man's offer foster the squirmy furball. He seemed surprised that Nines had decided to keep the kitten. Even RK900 itself couldn't explain what was driving it to put so much effort into trying to save one insignificant animal. It knew that the kitten's chances of survival were low, but it was trying to help it anyway.

Once the kitten had been re-hydrated, warmed, and fed, the squirrely young man gave RK900 some kitten meal replacement formula, a small bed with a blanket, a heating pad, and a bottle. Along with instructions on caring for kittens. When it got home, the android set up the small bed and heating pad for the kitten next to it's work desk. As for Nines' apartment, it was basically an empty apartment with a desk and a single shelving unit. Some called it weird, others called it minimalistic, Nines called it an apartment. It looked over at the teeny tabby curled up on the small cat bed next to it's work desk. Without even considering why, Nines got down and sat next to the kitten, gently running his fingertips on the kitty's head. The kitten purred and leaned into the touch, even going as far as to start kneading it's blanket. Nines couldn't explain it's behavior. It couldn't feel the kitten's fur under it's fingertips, but it assumed that it was warm and soft. Even if it had no real concept of what warm and soft really are, it could define them as adjective words, but had no real reference of what they really felt like. RK900 paused, fingers on either side of the kitten's neck. There was no real reason for it to care for this small creature. After all, she served no purpose in accomplishing it's set task. And it didn't feel anything. It wouldn't be sad or heartbroken if the kitten were to die. In fact... RK900 added minor pressure to the kitten's neck. ...It could probably kill the thing and feel nothing at all.

...

Nines removed it's fingers from the kitten's neck. It felt absolutely nothing for this kitten, but still couldn't bring itself to kill her. It wondered why, it couldn't comprehend the reasons for keeping the thing alive. The kitten served no purpose and was only a use of RK900's time and a potential distraction. Though, it supposed that maybe one of it's co-workers would be open to taking in the kitten. As for now, RK900 was more than capable of caring for a simple kitten. She needed to be fed every few hours, but since androids don't require rest, that really isn't a problem.

As the time to start work for the next day drifted closer, Nines found that the newly fed kitten was nestling against and kneading (or rather, attempting to knead) it's chest. The kitten likely felt the vibrations from it's thirium pump and must have assumed that the biocomponant was it's mother's heart. Rather than remove the kitten, Nines gently stroked the tabby's head and went back to contemplating why it didn't leave the kitten to die. But no matter which point it attempted to address the question from, it could find no answer. It didn't know why it decided to save the kitten's life. It just did. There was also another problem to consider. It wondered if it should give the kitten a name of some sort. Nines couldn’t keep calling her “kitten.”

Ultimately it decided that naming the cat was too deviant.

At the precinct, the kitten got loads of positive attention. Plenty of "awwws" and "so cutes" from the other officers as she wiggled around in her pet carrier. Unfortunately, no one offered to take her. As soon as Gavin spotted RK900, he sauntered over, likely prepping another one of his speeches about how humans are better than androids or whatever. However the smirk fell from his face once he heard a tiny mew emanating from the carrier.

"Hey Nines, you got a cat?" Gavin was reaching into the carrier and gently stroking the little kitten with a finger. She responded by purring and rubbing against his hand. "Aww, soft kitter. Smol kitter..." Gavin purred.

"...Kitter?" That's an interesting term for a cat. "I found her abandoned in a cardboard box at approximately 11:24 last night."

"So what did you name her?" Gavin held in an ugly laugh. "Cat?"

"I didn't." Nines didn't even look at his co-worker, he had been done with this conversation before it had begun. "I plan on giving her to someone else. I have no intentions of adopting this cat."

"Really now?" Gavin's smirk was a little less malicious than usual. "They all say that."

"I am not adopting this animal." RK900's stoic face and monotone voice held. Gavin shrugged. "Well detective Reed, you're quite fond of domestic felines. Why don't you take her?" Gavin laughed, hard.

"I have three cats already, Nines. This little pumpkin," Gavin gestured towards the kitten that was now napping. "Is your responsibility." He laughed as he walked away and RK900 went back to working at it's terminal.

Later on, RK900 found itself being bothered by it's predecessor.

"You adopted a kitten?" There was a hint of surprise to the RK800's tone. It was looking into the pet carrier, head tilted slightly.

"I found her."

"Really?" Connor smiled slightly. "Well, RK900, I didn't peg you as the type to do animal rescue. What are you naming her?"

"I'm not, my plan is to give her to someone else."

"Oh." The android deflated slightly. "I'd take her, but Sumo might not get along with her." Of course Connor would offer to help, as it was known to simulate empathy. However, introducing a new animal into a household that already has pets is not an easy thing to do. Cats and dogs don't always get along, and a small kitten wouldn't stand a chance if Sumo decided that he didn't want to share his home. That end result would be... less than ideal.

[^Software Instability]

Nines casually ignored the warning in his peripheral and went back to work.

It wasn't until late, when RK900 was about to return home when LT Anderson approached it.

"So I heard you were looking for someone to give your little kitten to."

"Yes I was, did you happen to know someone who-"

"Look," Hanks eyes and voice were firm, commanding even. "Don't pawn that poor kitten off to someone else if you can take care of it. It's bad enough the poor little guy lost it's momma. It doesn't need to be abandoned again." Hank was about to go when he suddenly turned back around to face RK900. "Oh and give the poor thing a name for fucks sake."

Hank's words had an effect on Nines, as he carefully considered what the old man had said to him. He told him in no uncertain terms to adopt the cat. Of course, RK900 didn't take orders from him, so he had no obligation to listen. There really wasn't anything stopping him from dropping the kitten off at some shelter and going about it's existence. However, instead Nines found itself walking back into it's apartment and preparing some food for the kitten. It had no explanation for why it had decided to keep the kitten. It just did.

Once the kitten was nice and fed and slipped out of Nine's grasp and wiggled up to his pump regulator. The kitten rubbed against the area and started to purr.

[^Software Instability]

Nines didn't truly comprehend what it was experiencing in that moment, but it seemed pleasant. It gently rested it's hand on the kitten and began stroking her softly. Pumpkin Spice. Nines would name the kitten Pumpkin Spice. The kitten mewed softly as the android cradled her against it's chest. Unlike Pumpkin Spice, Nines didn't have a beating heart in it's chest. Only the cold, steady thrum of a thirium pump to keep it going.

But for Pumpkin Spice, that would do.

#DBH #detroit become human #RK900 #dbh connor #dbh fanfic #Detroit: BH #Nines adopts a kitten #Gavin's only redeming quality is that he likes cats #Did it for the fluff #CarnistCervineWrites

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mensbodybuildingtips · 6 years ago

Text

Use Sodium to Look Full, Vascular and Ripped

If I had a dollar for every time I have actually heard bodybuilders tell me they use Mrs. Dashboard throughout their reducing stage, I would certainly have a few grand in my pocket.

I always look at them as well as ask why they would certainly enjoy their salt while weight loss, and the typical feedback is, "I'm attempting to obtain lean and also do not wish to hold water." My reaction is, " Salt will certainly not inhibit your development in getting lean, as well as holding some water while diet programs is in fact beneficial." Then, naturally, I lecture them for an additional 20 mins and soothe them down as I inform them I desire them to start eating four pickles a day to obtain their bodies made use of to high salt intake.

If you are just one of those individuals that fear sodium as a result of its water-retentive reputation, please maintain reading, as I will certainly clarify to you why not having high salt intake is disadvantageous to looking your best.

When starting a diet programs stage for a bodybuilding competition or a special event where you have to look your best with minimal apparel, you will have to plan ahead. I always advise that, no matter your current problem or body fat, you begin a dieting stage at the very least 16 weeks out. If you genuinely are under 10% body fat, after that 12 weeks is the minimum.

Right of the bat, I tell individuals to start consuming alcohol a consistent 1 1⁄2 -2 gallons of water a day, together with getting utilized to a high salt in-take. Basically, add salt to all your dishes-- or, if you hate salt, after that eat pickles. Initially you will preserve fluid as a result of the quick water intake integrated with the high salt consumption. The mineralocorticoid steroid hormone aldosterone will be enhanced only momentarily, till homeostasis cancel your sodium-to-water ratio. After a week you must not be holding obvious fluid, and need to be eliminating salt and water with pee consistently, which now keeps aldosterone suppressed.

The crucial determinant in keeping aldosterone levels low is seeing to it to keep both your sodium intake and water usage high. When both water and also sodium levels drop, aldosterone increases, vasopressin is launched, as well as water plus salt reabsorption takes place with the distal tubules of the kidneys. Vasopressin, or anti-diuretic hormonal agent (ADH), is a peptide hormonal agent that is released when dehydration or reduced water and also salt consumption take place. Vasopressin is primarily the body's defense mechanism that begins when imbalances take place in the blood relating to water, sodium, and also glucose.

The Facts About Aldosterone

As you start to obtain leaner and also leaner via the program of the diet plan, you will certainly recognize just how important high salt intake really is. Normally around five weeks out of a bodybuilding contest, your body fat should be really low (5-6%) as well as your carb consumption need to be minuscule.

When carbohydrates are extremely low, you shed also much more water, since each gram of glycogen binds approximately 2.7 g of water. Lessened carbohydrate degrees could trigger a host of side impacts if sodium degrees are inadequate. Muscular tissue cramping as well as muscle mass tears prevail. A decreased blood quantity, which reduces vascularity and also muscle mass fullness, is now existing. The treatment to such problems is having high salt consumption. High degrees of salt will certainly maintain you appropriately hydrated for healthy and balanced muscle tightenings, and aid prevent cramping as well as injury.

I directly observe that when I am depleted of carbs, yet have my sodium consumption high, my muscular tissues appear very complete, difficult, and vascular, which are words many times made use of to explain being "carbohydrate packed."

When your body-fat levels are really reduced and also both water and sodium levels are skies- high, you ought to appear definitely weird looking, with road-map blood vessels all over your body from sodium-induced vasodilation. Having yourself in unbelievable condition three weeks of your muscle building competition or unique occasion makes the final couple of days of "drying" simple to manage. As perhaps a few of you know, that final few days prior to a bodybuilding contest can make or break a rival, as trying out out-of-date carb/sodium/water protocols could spoil 16 weeks of training and stringent dieting.

The discombobulated body builder will certainly employ insane strategies entailing serious water as well as salt constraint and crazy quantities of carbs. Such hazardous and destructive procedures are typically advised by so-called contest-prep "masters" who merely go far on their own on the sole basis of their "magical" drug suggestions. This path is very attractive to the malnourished body builder that isn't believing very reasonably and desires a side at any type of cost.

The Finishing Touches!

When coming close to the final few days before your contest or unique event, there are a few things that you can do to look also better. The initial thing I have people do 6 days out is enhance their currently high water intake by 1⁄4 -1 ⁄ 2 gallon, as well as include one more pickle or a few trembles of salt to their diet. If they still have 50-100g of carbohydrates in their diet plan, I bring them down by 25g each day till they reach 0g of carbohydrates a few days before the event.

Water and salt consumption constantly increases by 1⁄4 -1 ⁄ 2 gallon each successive day till eventually prior to the occasion, when salt stops being added to dishes. You consume exactly what is naturally taking place in your healthy protein resources. Water gets quickly reduced of at some time a day before the occasion. Generally water obtains shut of at night around 6-10 p.m. Most individuals are eating upward of 3 to 5 gallons of water by eventually out as well as will certainly be urinating every 15 mins. By ramping up water and also sodium consumption much more the final six days, we raise diuresis, which substantially reduces adolsterone as well as maintains your body in a "flushing state." When we eliminated added sodium one day prior and maintain water intake overpriced, we raise diuresis much more. Now when we abruptly cut of water intake as well as do not TAPER water like misinformed "masters" supporter, the body will "overshoot," since it is made use of to getting high water and also salt. Around 11 p.m. the night before your contest, you will certainly be urinating as well as drying out like crazy. By the time you awaken the early morning of your contest or event, you will certainly be bone dry. It is critical the early morning of your contest or occasion to manage the reintroduction of salt and water. I constantly have my clients consume a passionate breakfast 8 hours after water has actually been closed of. The morning meal will certainly include steak, eggs, bacon, and salute, as I make every effort to have salt, carbs, and fats in wealth. Your body is like a dry sponge, all set to absorb sugar, water, salt, and also fat into the muscle mass cells, because muscular tissue cells will was initially priority for replenishment.

You need to avoid fluids at this point, as liquid could make you hold water in such a delicate state. Having excess-sodium-laden foods without water intake will really make you appear harder, drier, and also fuller.

Remember that water complies with salt, so any type of remaining subcutaneous water that hasn't already been eliminated will be sucked up when sodium is consumed, creating the popular "shrink-wrapped" look. After prejudging mores than, or you are finishing your day at the coastline or photo shoot, gradually reestablish water in 2- to four-ounce increments. You will more than likely see yourself fill in right before your eyes and boost your conditioning a lot more. Just make sure to have discipline and also self-discipline and do not overdo it with fluid, because you remain in such a dehydrated state.

Once the competition or event mores than, please make certain to go back to homeostasis as promptly as possible by taking in Pedialyte, Gatorade, and also water to recover important electrolytes and minerals. You will certainly experience a temporary rebound of excessive bloating as well as water retention, yet if you keep the liquid intake high, signs will certainly dissipate within a few days.

So, following time you are carefully diet programs for a competition or event needing you to look your finest on a details day, please embrace the terrific mineral salt and leave your competition in the dust.

Note: The salt as well as carbs reintroduced the morning of the contest/special event are not determined or measured. Once in a completely dry, dried state you can consume sufficient amounts of salt and also carbohydrates without concern of "spilling over" or maintaining water. This is why it is crucial to NOT reestablish water throughout this time.

#bodybuilding #bodybuilding diet #weight

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adangerousbond · 6 years ago

Text

The Garden can Break the Greenhouse

I think this will be about 2 chapters all up, I have a few other stories I have been trying to work on and start but there are very few stories for Reade/Zapata, so I needed to write my own in the mini break.

Read below or at FF.net // AO3

Enjoy!

There had been multiple times throughout this mission that she had been unsure if she would succeed; the moment she had realised just how hard it would be to walk away from everyone, when she had watched the entire room around her fall to the ground, unsure if she was going to be next, confronting Reade in his apartment and more recently when she had been kidnapped and interrogated by fake CIA agents, all because Madeline got a little unsure of her, but this time felt different, because at least if she had not survived, she had won.

Slumping down against a crate, she closed her eyes for a moment in an attempt to make the dizziness disappear, her fingers sticky and wet from the blood seeping through her shirt and her ears pounding as she breathed through the pain. She had left Madeline in a room that she knew her team would find her, having had gone after the last of the older woman's helpers, knowing full well that it would take her away from the possible route out of the building that had been rigged to blow in a time frame that was too short for her to do much.

Opening her eyes, Tasha glanced towards the doorway she had come through, the pool of blood from the man she had shot a lot larger than when she had last looked and the realisation that she had been down longer than she had realised kicked in, her limited time was disappearing quicker than she could think.

Pressing as firmly as she could into the wound on her side, she ignored her body's complaints and forced herself up, she had come to far and given up too much to not at least try to get out. Her vision was blurring more with each step she took but she continued towards what she believed was the opposite direction of where the bomb had been placed; Madeline's last line of defence, if all else was lost the woman would get some solace in bringing everyone else down with her too.

Rounding a corner, she heard what sounded like footsteps coming closer to the room she was now in, unsure if it was her mind playing tricks or not, she paused to listen, her answer coming as the door opened and a gun pointed through. Raising her gun shakily towards the approaching figure, with a sudden hint of survival kicking in to cover the lack of strength, her brain barely registering the friendly face as they lowered their weapon and rushed towards her.

"Tasha?!" Reade breathed a sigh of relief, concern quickly taking over as he saw she was struggling to stand. Wrapping an arm around her, he took her weight as he led them back out the way he had come in, his other hand holding his gun tight ready to protect them.

Leaning against him, she actually felt safe for a moment, as she focused on keeping up the quick pace he was making them go, both knowing full well that they needed to be out of the building already. A hint of hope rose in the back of her mind, hope that she might actually get out of this mission alive, but it was quickly replaced by the fear that she might get them both killed.

The answer to her question came moments later as he pushed them through a door a few moments later and the bright sunlight hit her face. He continued his path towards an ambulance in the distance, as she glanced over to her former team, locking eyes with Madeline for a moment and nearly stumbling at the ice in her stare, breaking away she caught the mixture of questioning and disapproving looks from the team, even in her state she could tell Reade was ignoring the same looks, something that she tucked away and hoped she would remember later.

As they close enough to the ambulance that the paramedics saw her, she was quickly surrounded by people ready to help but Reade seemed focused on getting her to the vehicles stretcher before he let her go. The distinct sound of the building exploding ripping through the relief that had fallen over then the moment they had made it to the vehicle, Reade holding its back door in a manner to shield them from any debris from the building as they watched it crumble from the force.

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

She barely remembered the ride to the hospital, waking a while later to the beeping, busy noise and sickly clean smell that could only be one place. Opening her eyes, she glanced around the white room, attempting to sit up without getting caught up in the cords connected to her body, her actions catching the eye of a nurse walking by, who smiled quickly at her before hurrying off, most likely to fetch someone to talk to her.

Her suspicions of the nurse were right when a man and woman in doctor's coats entered, followed by a blank Reade. She was surprised to see him there and it made her wonder if it was to take her into custody once given the all clear, he had made it clear that she was simply an asset and her only usefulness was catching Madeline, which she had done; she didn't have Keaton to get her out of a black site anymore, so CIA or FBI; it didn't make much of a difference to her.

"Miss Zapata, I am glad to see you are awake." The male doctor spoke, the way he seemed to be keeping his distance off her bed not lost on her and she had to wonder if they thought she was law enforcement or the enemy.

"Guess I lived." She stated nonchalantly, making eye contact with Reade for a moment before picking up the cup in front of her as an excuse to look away.

"Are you happy for us to update you with Agent Reade in the room? We can do this more privately if you prefer." The doctor spoke again softer than before, noticing the interaction between the two.

"It's fine." She stated, placing the cup back on the tray in front of her, as she wondered if the fact she wasn't handcuffed was a good sign.

"You had a small gunshot wound to the abdomen, not much more than a graze that we patched up, along with a couple other cuts and bruises that you'll need to keep an eye on, we stitched up the more serious ones. The bigger issue is that you were dehydrated and malnourished, which was making your wounds make you weaker than they should, but we have you on an IV full of much needed nutrients and your hydration levels are much better." He rattled off the basics of her injuries to her as she watched him hold himself back, clearly wanting to ask questions but knowing better than too.

"I would also like you to have a chat with our counsellor before you go." The female doctor spoke up, clearly going against a decision the two of them had decided upon before coming into her room.

"Why?" She asked a lack of anything to her tone that she then realised probably didn't help her situation.

"Well, your displaying clear symptoms of being held against your will and of being tortured, pretty seriously by what I've seen, so I would like you to at least have a quick chat with them first." The concern about her welfare evident on the doctor's voice, but Tasha couldn't help but feel it would dissipate if she knew the things she had done.

"When am I leaving, by the way you two talk it sounds as if I am being discharged pretty soon?" Tasha questioned, ignoring the statement and any questions it brought with it as she glanced at the small group at the end of her bed.

"We have a plane waiting to go back to New York." Reade spoke authoritively and his reason for being there dawned on her, he was only there to escort her to the ride home; or to a dark hole, she still wasn't sure which it would be.

"I would prefer if you stayed a little while longer, at least to keep an eye on your wounds." The other woman spoke, dropping her other issue for now. "But we cannot force you to stay."

"If you choose to leave, we will give you some medication for the pain and to try to stop infection, and some supplies to change the bandages if needed, but I would highly suggest going into a hospital as soon as your stateside." The male doctor explained further, the appearance of her having a choice nearly making her laugh, if only they knew the whole story.

"I'll be fine, changed a few bandages in my time." She stated, pretending to have made the decision all on her own, but they were right and the bruises on her wrists would really hurt if the handcuffs went back on.

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

Stepping out of the room a little while later having changed into the now clean clothes that she had come in with, bar her shirt that they had cut open, but having been given one of the hospitals light green scrub shirts to wear instead, she definitely felt more refreshed than she had in the last few weeks.

"Ready?" Reade spoke coldly, as if he was here for a job and that was it; which she supposed he was.

Tasha nodded in response, handing the clipboard she was holding to a nurse at the nurses' station as they started their way to the elevator. The coldness between them hurting, but she pushed it down, knowing she had hurt him more and it had been her choice, so she didn't deserve anything but.

Their silence continued in the drive to the airport, only interrupted by a call coming through midway there, the silence returning as quickly as the call ended. As they approached the hanger, she wasn't sure if she should be worried or thankful that they had a private jet waiting for them, the unanswered question about her fate slowly eating away at her.

Following behind him quietly, at the very least she knew that was all she could do at the moment, choosing that it was safer to prepare for the worst than to hold on to the slither of hope. She took the stairs to the plane slowly, ignoring the way he waited at the top as to ensure she didn't try to run and hated that she couldn't read if he was impatient or concerned as she past him and made her way to a seat.

Curling in against herself, she sat in a seat next to a window silently, letting the other members of a team she was once a part of move around the plane, only stopping what they were doing as the plane moved towards the runway and then took off, soaring towards its destination and potentially towards her hell.

"How are you feeling?" Patterson asked as she sat opposite her, breaking her train of thought as the concern from her once close friend brought a tinge of hope.

"Been better." She responded with a weak smile, turning to face her and watching as Rich sat next to her, the two looking as if they were about to start an interrogation of their own kind.

"We got Madeline red handed, HCI Global won't come back from this." The blonde stated getting down to business.

"Good." At least it hadn't ended up all being for nothing, that was something she could hold on to where ever she ended up.

"Why?" Her old friend asked, her question drawing the other occupant to the conversation, as Reade made his way over, having no choice but to sit on the spare seat next to her.

"Why?" Tasha questioned the question, not sure which part of it the why referred to.

"Why did you agree to it?" Rich brought up the first question the group seemed to have for her.

"It's not like he had anyone else lining up to do it, I couldn't exactly turn it down." She tried to explain, but this group was FBI through and through, they had never understood why she had gone CIA and so she couldn't expect them to understand why she had been prepared to give up everything, including her job at the CIA for it.

"Was it because we weren't talking and you two were barely talking?" Patterson got right to the question that had been eating at her, wanting to understand her mindset.

"I won't lie," She started, her comment gaining a huff from the man next to her, "It helped me agree to it in the first place, but when it started, us all being friends again made walking away the hardest thing I have ever done."

"Yet you did it anyway. You left without a word and joined forces with our enemy." The blonde argued, the hurt that she had and was still feeling evident in her tone.

"Even to my standards, that's not right." Rich spoke up, trying to cut through with tension that was filling up the small plane quickly.

"You could have just told us." Reade near repeated the words he had told her when he had her in the FBI just over a week prior.

"I couldn't risk it." Tasha told him sadly, knowing how the words sounded the moment she said them.

"Risk what, we were your team." The were in his sentence cutting the deepest, she knew they weren't a team anymore, but it still hurt to be reminded.

"I had to go deep Reade, I couldn't have any outs, it was all or nothing." She tried explaining from a different angle, she knew they all had their own thoughts as to why she had done it the way that she had and that they were all still hurt by those reasons.

"All you needed to do was tell us enough that we would have known you weren't betraying us, we wouldn't have sold you out." He fired back, bringing trust back into it, because if there was anything that this team had survived on it was trust.

"If I told you and anything went wrong, if I failed I wouldn't have forgiven myself. I couldn't risk anything, and if I succeeded and you guys didn't forgive me that was a something I would have to live with." She told him softly, knowing he had every right to feel the way he did but she hadn't had the choice, after everything she had done, this mission had been the very least she could offer, no matter the cost.

"And if it went wrong, what, we would have just never known the truth?" Patterson asked, anger flaring up in her tone as she listened to the reasoning and knew that it had been a very real possibility.

"Keaton promised he would tell the team the truth if it went bad." The brunette responded, the sentence sinking in as the group realised that it was an outcome that she had not only understood but had had a plan for as well.

"Then why come to me that night." Reade broke the silence, all eyes flying to him the moment he spoke. Looking around the group she knew the other two had at least some understanding that they had crossed a line, but they hadn't quite known how far over the line they had gone and the other two was just as surprised as she was that he was bringing it up now.

"I know I shouldn't have, it was selfish, but like I told you, I thought I would never see you again." She stared him down like she had in the interrogation room, needing him to know that as much as she had lied and hurt him, that her feelings were real and that she hated hurting him.

"You also told me that you always loved me, but I guess just not enough to tell me the truth." He threw her words back at her, both of them ignoring the way Rich was watching them as he was watching a day time soap show.

"You and I both know I would have ruined us anyway." She sighed, a lone tear escaping as she droped his eye contact as and wishing he would drop the topic for a time more private, but also glad that he was somewhat prepared to talk to her and that he had clearly confided in Patterson, who was watching the two with a sad expression, having had conversations with both, she understood that they were both in pain.

"How is it you keep making that choice for me?" Reade used a previous conversation against her once more and like before, not really expecting her to answer that statement.

"How about we stop there before someone says something they can't take back?" Rich spoke up, starting to get a touch uncomfortable, confrontations; especially those in a confined space, were not at the top of his list for enjoyable situations.

"Oh, we have said way worse to each other." Tasha couldn't help but joke, her words dropping the group back into silence.

"Where's Jane and Weller, are they okay?" Tasha asked after a while, feeling comfortable enough in the group to start asking her own questions.

"Chasing up a lead for Jane." Rich responded without thinking, his answer drawing an inquisitive look from the brunette and a sharp glare from the man opposite him. "And I've said to much."

She knew better than to push her luck on the subject, clearly there was going to be things that she would miss and they all barely seemed to tolerate her, let alone trust her with information on the two main members of the team, but it still hurt. Watching Rich get up and head towards the planes far corner where his laptop lay waiting, Tasha realised that he was distancing himself before he said anything further.

"Wait." She spoke up as Reade moved to stand as well, her request gaining a glare, but he remained seated none the less, as she got the courage to ask the question haunting her the most. "What's going to happen to me?"

"I'm not handing you over to the CIA if that's what you're worried about." His words didn't answer her question fully, but they gave her a glimmer of hope, something that was quite dangerous to her right now.

"What then?" She pushed further, she mightn't have the right to push about anything else, but she knew this was the one topic that no one could blame her for wanting an answer to.

"Well they are going to want to debrief you and as Keaton is still unconscious and though Claudia backed you up to me, she might not be so forthcoming with them, but for the mean time you'll remain in FBI custody, might even set you up in a safe house if it comes down to it." He explained, trying to sound as if he was talking to any other informant but the three of them knew that he was bending his power as deputy director.

"Really?" Tasha asked, hope slipping into her tone for the first time in a long time and she couldn't stop the small smile crossing her features.

"Well the end result was beneficial to the FBI, least we can do is make sure you don't get thrown into some dark hole." He reasoned to everyone, including himself, as he looked down to give himself a chance to school his features.

"Thanks." She responded, relief pushing aside her pain for a moment as she suppressed the urge to hug him, knowing that that action would not be well received.

"We should probably go over some key points before they get a chance to brief you though, like for starters, were the doctors correct when they said that you had been tortured recently?" He switched back to a line of conversation that he was in control of.

"Yes." She answered too coolly, the only sign that the question even bothered her was the way that she pulled her legs a bit closer, even though the action would cause her pain.

"Who?" Patterson spoke up for the first time in a while, the news surprising and concerning her, she knew it hadn't been an easy mission, but this was something else.

"They grabbed me when I was supposed to meet Del Toro, pretended to be CIA or were CIA working for Madeline, but they tried to get me to admit that I was undercover, all I knew was that if I told either option the truth they would have killed me." Tasha started explaining calmly as if it was not her story she was telling.

"Guess you held out." Reade responded coldly but watching her closely non the less.

"Reade!" Rich's voice rang out from over his laptop screen, clearly requesting his presence with what he had been working on.

"We will pick this up later." Reade stated as he rose and walked away from them, Patterson following closely behind, only pausing at another seat to grab a blanket which she then passed it to Tasha.

Folding the blanket into a makeshift pillow, she placed it on the window, figuring she might as well attempt to sleep or at the very least pretend to, to allow her a quiet flight as she knew that they would all leave her alone if rest and right she had to process the last couple of days. She just wished that she could be 100% certain that they would be able to protect her from the CIA, Keaton had been the only one who would have been able to talk them down and even though her mission had succeed, she knew that the CIA would be unhappy with the way she had dragged their name through the mud.

#blindspot #tasha x reade #zapata x reade #tasha zapata #edgar reade #my fic #why do I always start new fics instead of finishing old ones #sorry

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drlaurynlax · 6 years ago

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14 Best Ways to Gain Weight (Without Harmful Effects) 

Gain Weight Without Making Yourself Sick

Move over “GOMAD” (Gallon of Milk A Day) and searching Dr. Google for the answers “how to gain weight fast”…Let these 14 essentials light the way.

So you want to gain weight, but you “can’t.”

Some people call it a “hard gainer,” others call it “genetics,” others call it “not eating enough” or “working out too much,” and others wish they had your problem.

No matter what your theory is behind why you CAN’T seem to gain weight…it sucks.

While the majority of America is seemingly hyper focused on weight loss with 1 in 3 Americans overweight (1) (and more than 85% of all people overweight by 2030 if trends continue, 2), for those who struggle with putting weight on (or keeping it on), it can feel equally disheartening. Being underweight can affect your body image, strength and often times even health.

I get it.

“I’m a Hard Gainer” (Story of my LIFE)

For most of my life I’ve struggled with my weight.

Early Bloomer

My pre-teens were characterized by being a healthy “early bloomer”—one of the tallest in my class, the first to shave my legs and wear a sports bra by age 9, and ranking in the top percentile on the BMI charts for my height and weight.

Chronic Dieting

By age 10, I forcefully put a dramatic halt to this—wanting nothing to do with womanhood, and more than anything, wanting to be considered thin, pretty and popular. My adolescence, teens and early 20’s were spent battling my weight and destroying my metabolism through malnourishment, subsisting on fat free yogurt, baby carrots, apples and deli turkey. I counted calories and fat grams as if it were my job, and there was a time I even feared water.

Force Feeding Weight Gain: Hypermetabolic

Doctors sent me in and out of treatment centers and hosptials, like I was on vacation, and my weight forcefully yo-yoed, as protocols forced me to sit on a couch for 3-9 months at a time, eating Egg McMuffins, Ensure shakes and Pop-tarts to put weight on and keep me alive.

My nutritionists were always “shocked” at how my body would respond to the “absurd” amount of calories and large meal plans they’d put me on, telling me I was “hypermetabolic” due to the years of starvation and metabolic disruption to my system.

Eating a Michael Phelps’ Olympic Diet

Come age 24, when I chose to recover from my 15 years of anorexia and orthorexia, this once more meant fluctuations in my weight—rebounding up from death’s doorstep at 79 pounds and feeling like the walking dead, to a “healthier place” where my body could do things a normal 24-year-old body should do (like menstruate, think clearly,and sweat in yoga class).

Nevertheless, as I once more began the classic re-feeding “weight gain” diet, my body still struggled. At the time, I was in eating disorder treatment, and being fed the equivalent of what Michael Phelps ate to win his dozens of Olympic Medals—from takeout pizza, to milkshakes, ice cream, Snickers bars, peanut butter crackers, bagels and waffles—without burning a calorie or swimming a stroke my metabolism was super fast, and yet the my gain weight process was SUPER SLOW.

For almost a year, constipation and bloating were my daily nemesis, I rarely saw a green vegetable of any sort, and no one cared that I was both lactose intolerant and gluten intolerant, with underlying autoimmune diseases that wreak havoc on the body when fed inflammatory foods. However, as forceful and painful as it felt, I did gain weight, and everyone else (but myself) were happy with the number on the scale.

Confused: Health vs. Unhealthy Weight Gain

Despite wanting to be healthy and also restore healthy weight myself, inside I felt awful. Why did “getting healthy” and having a “healthy body” have to be such a painful, forced process? Why did my body have such a hard time to gain weight? Not once did anyone talk to me about the real reasons why my body struggled so much to put healthy weight on—and be in a healthy place for my body.

Redefining a Healthy Body & Weight for ME

After I got out of treatment and back to the real world, in my new 40+ pound heavier body, I felt like I was Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz— not in Kansas anymore. In my new skin, and world of new opportunity before me (instead of standing face to face with death), I knew I had one of two choices—move forward or go back to my old ways.

I had no idea what “maintaining” my weight looked like—since for the past 15 years, my world had seemingly revolved around others wanting me to gain weight, and me fearing it so much…but I knew I did NOT want to go back down the road I had traveled.

In my new skin, I did my best to accept myself just as I was, with a few more rolls and much fuller face, without letting the old diet mentality slip back in—making me fear every morsel I put into my mouth.

Thankfully, at this time, I found an amazing CrossFit community that showed me the beauty of being strong, self-confident, and eating real whole foods. I decided to finish my Doctorate in Occupational Therapy and later furthered my education in Nutrition—both of which gave me realistic insight and truth about what holistic health is all about. And my faith and belief in the fact that I am truly fearfully and wonderfully made and here for a greater purpose than my body helped me stand firm.

Weight was seemingly no longer my issue!

Weight Issues Strike Again

Fast forward to age 28-30, my freedom from body image and the never ending struggle to gain weight came back with vengeance. This time, not in the form of an eating disorder, but a little something something known as IBS and SIBO—small intestinal bacterial overgrowth—gut dysfunctions where I could not keep food and nutrients in my body, no matter how much I ate or how healthy I ate. While I was no longer eating a steady diet of baby carrots or the opposite treatment extremes (fast food) at the time, everything I put into my mouth, ended right back up—in the toilet.

Bloating, gas, loose and watery stools and chronic diarrhea struck and lingered for a good 6-months until I really realized something was up beyond “bad digestion.”

In that time, I lost a good 10 to 15 pounds of redefined healthy muscle and feel-good body image I’d begun to find post-treatment and anti-eating disorder.

I felt horrible—inside and out—and self conscious, like people who looked at me, and knew my back story of my eating disorder, saw me right back “there”—at square one in the thick of “ED.”

Several people commented, “You should put on weight.” Others talked about me behind my back, “Lauryn has no right being on a stage talking about her eating disorder past. She doesn’t look healthy and she’s obviously still struggling.” And still others told me straight to my face, “Lauryn, if you’d put more weight on, your words and work you do to help others heal from their own food and body struggles would have more weight.”

An “angel investor” wanted to give me $100,000 to drive my bigger vision forward of helping people on a global scale and opening up a functional medicine center in the heart of Texas…until he met me face to face. He knew my back story—my recovery from a death gripping eating disorder and had seen my news feature on CBS—but after meeting me, he said he’d only fund my business on one condition—I gain about 15-20 pounds.

Will I ALWAYS Struggle with Weight?!

This set me over the edge—frustrated with my body and my weight.

Once I really realized that the SIBO and IBS had taken a toll on my body, I went to work on gaining weight…like it was my full time job.

More than anything, I wanted to help others and see my vision through, and if the only thing I had to do was put on 15-20 pounds….I could do anything right?

Buzz.

Weight gain proved to be harder than ever. No matter how much I ate—upwards of 3000 calories—the weight would not go on. And more and more came out.

About this same time is when I began to get more serious about the practice and art of functional medicine, and I threw myself into both self and formal study—training under some of the top leaders in medicine and the evolving functional medicine field.

Functional medicine is ALL about helping people get to the root of the health struggles, understanding what is going on “under the hood” or what is holding them back from being the healthy, vibrant person they want to be.

And as I began studying to help others…I also began learning and studying and discovering the answers to also helping myself…

Long story short, I discovered several reasons—real reasons—my body has struggled to gain weight for a LONG TIME…and several reasons why your body probably also struggles with weight issues too—both weight gain or weight loss.

You DON’T Have to Struggle with Weight Forever

No matter your personal history and relationship with your body and your weight; and whether you want to gain weight or lose weight, you don’t have to struggle forever—especially when you better understand the root causes driving weight dysfunction for you in the first place.

While I am not 100% where I want to be yet, I am getting there—up almost 8 pounds—and gradually healing the underlying mechanisms that have kept my body from being the optimal healthiest version of myself for YEARS.

If you’re tired of fighting your weight, here are 14 REAL reasons you can’t gain weight (beyond just being a “hard gainer”) and 14 essentials to reverse your struggle.

14 REAL REASONS YOU CAN’T GAIN WEIGHT + 14 ESSENTIALS TO GAIN WEIGHT THE HEALTHY WAY

1. Your Gut Microbiome is Unhealthy

The gut is the gateway to health (healthy weight included). Your gut is home to trillions of gut bacteria (100 trillion to be exact). Your gut bacteria and digestive system as a whole are responsible for: helping your body digest and absorb every single nutrient you eat, using every vitamin and mineral in your food, detoxifying every single toxin that comes in contact with your body, boosting your immune system, telling your neurotransmitters how to “think,” and governing how fast, slow and healthy your metabolism and hormones function.

Gut bacteria can be “good” (healthy), “bad” (pathogenic, infectious) or “commensal” (neither good nor bad. In the case of the weight gain dilemma, if you have a chronic gut infection (like parasites or unhealthy bacteria), bacterial overgrowth (SIBO), yeast or fungal overgrowth, or other “gut problems” (like low stomach acid, IBS, “leaky gut”), then weight gain will be an uphill battle.

Poor gut health is related to malabsorption, nutrient deficiencies, cortisol imbalances (i.e. stress) and a super slow or, in your case, a super fast metabolism.

While most studies around gut bacteria and weight tend to show the healthier your gut bacteria, the healthier your weight is (particularly for those who are overweight and obese), clinical and empirical practice also shows the opposite to be true: the more unhealthy your gut bacteria, the less healthy your body composition and weight (3).

If you are genetically predisposed to be a “hard gainer” already, you can bet your bottom dollar that you will struggle more with your weight if your gut is not healthy in the first place.

Weight Gain Essential: Boost Your Gut Health

Boost your gut health in your daily life with these steps:

Take a daily soil based probiotic and prebiotic

Take 1-2 digestive enzymes with meals

Add apple cider vinegar to water to boost stomach acid, and eat 1-2 spoonfuls of sauerkraut or fermented foods with each day

Consume natural herbs and compounds that boost gut function and heal leaky gut such as: ginger, cilantro, oregano, raw Manuka honey, peppermint, collagen, colostrum, and L-Glutamine powder to add to water.

Eat home cooked meals as much as possible, chew your food

Test, don’t guess. Work with a functional medicine practitioner to look into underlying gut dysfunctions holding you back from being in the healthy body you want to be. This may include stool testing, organic acids urine testing, SIBO breath testing, blood work or a mix of testing essentials.

2. You’re Not Maximizing Your Meals

Eating to gain weight can leave you stuffed—wondering how you can fit more “in”—especially when it seems like your weight is not budging. Everyone has their “sweet spot”—the right amount of foods that their body is able to utilize towards gaining weight, and it can be easy to undershoot this when it seems like you’re already eating all the time.

Your solution? Just suck it up and eat it! When I’ve hit this point, I find that instead of trying to fit in a whole other meal or snack, I instead look to maximize the meals I am already eating—and gradually add just a little bit more, so that my body and gut doesn’t feel overwhelmed.

Weight Gain Essential: Add Just a Little Bit Extra

Boost or maximize the meals you are already eating. Add:

An extra tablespoon of coconut oil to your veggies

A quarter of a cup more of sweet potatoes or squash

An extra ounce of protein

5-6 more raw nuts

A tablespoon of raw honey to your bedtime tea,

Or (my personal fave), a heaping spoonful of Keto-friendly ice cream or homemade coconut ice cream after dinner. Little things can make a big difference.

3. You’re Counting Quantity (Not Quality)

Calories and macros are only half the weight gain battle. Most blogs and articles on weight gain, and even personal trainers, will tell you to focus on “eating more,” “eating big,” “carbing up,” “getting lots of protein,” and healthy fats, but rarely do they talk about the quality of the foods you are eating. You can eat all the Tyson (hormone and antibiotic) raised chicken, pesticide-laden broccoli, and carb-rich rice or pasta in the world, but if the food sources are poor quality foods, you may as well be eating, but starving (at a cellular level).

Perfection and 100% organic foods are not the goal here, but a nutrient-dense diet is. For instance, the time broccoli makes it from the farm to the grocery store shelf, it has already lost well over 70% of its nutrients (4).

What this means for you in your weight gain journey? The less nutrient dense your diet, the less vitamins and minerals your body is able to use to “build on” towards your metabolic goals, at a cellular level, and the less likely your body is to absorb that food in the first place.

Weight Gain Essential: Aim for Quality Nutrients

Choose the best quality foods you can afford and vary up the foods within your diet often. (Eating the same things leaves your body and metabolism starving for certain nutrients—even if you are hitting your calorie or macro goals). Nutrient dense foods include:

Proteins

Pasture-raised poultry

Grass-fed meats

Wild caught fish

Organ Meats

Bone Broth

Vegetables

Organic “Dirty Dozen” at least

Consume veggies within 1-3 days of buying, if possible

Cooked and sautéed veggies (digest best)

Dark leafy greens

Prebiotic fiber rich veggies & tubers (cooked and cooled potatoes/sweet potatoes, cooked and cooled white rice, green plantains, asparagus, onion, garlic, jicama, rutabaga, fennel)

Fresh Fruits

Especially antioxidant rich and digestive boosting fruits like:

Bananas (green tipped)

Blackberry

Blueberries

Cranberries

Cherries

Kiwi

Strawberries

Pineapple

Papaya

Plum

Healthy Fats

Avocado (1 small, 1/2 Medium, 1/3 Large=serving)

Avocado Oil

Beef Tallow

Coconut Butter

Coconut Flakes Unsweetened

Coconut Milk (additive-free; organic caned best)

Coconut Oil

Coconut Yogurt

Duck Fat

Egg Yolks (pasture raised, organic)

Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Fatty Cold Water Fish (Salmon, Sardines, Cod, Halibut)

Fatty Cuts of Meat (grass-fed, organic, pasture raised)

Flax Oil

Ghee

Goat’s Milk Butter

Grass-fed Butter

Grass-Fed Dairy* (Yogurt, Cream; No sugar, no additives, full-fat, plain; Limit amounts)

Grass-fed Goat’s Milk

Lard, Non-hydrogenated

Mayonnaise (Avoid brands with canola oil or sugar)

Olives

Palm Oil, Red Palm Oil

Palm Shortening (for baking)

Fermented Foods

1-2 condiment sized servings per day

Fermented/Pickled Veggies

Fermented Condiments (Mustard, Ketchup, Relish, Horseradish, Salsas, etc.)

Kefir (Water, Coconut)

Kimchi

Kombucha (low sugar like Health Ade brand—only 2 grams of sugar, or make your own)

Kvass (Beet Kvass)

Miso & Natto (fermented varieties, no-additives)

Sauerkraut

Tempeh

Yogurt (Coconut Yogurt; full-fat grass-fed dairy with “live and active cultures only)

4. You’re Eating Foods You’re Intolerant To

Food intolerances can go undiagnosed for years. Unlike allergies where you get a direct reactive “histamine” response (wheezing, sneezing, watery eyes), food intolerances are less overt—manifesting as other signs and symptoms like malabsorption, bacterial overgrowth, fatigue, chronic stress, skin breakouts, lowered immunity, and metabolic disturbances, including difficulty gaining or losing weight).

Even “healthy” foods can be “trigger foods” for food intolerances if you’re immunity or gut function is not able to handle them. For instance, eggs, nuts, grains, tomatoes, sweet potatoes and even broccoli (FODMAP) are common irritants to individuals with underlying gut issues.

In addition, while foods like gluten get a “bad rep” and many people have chosen to avoid it (because it seems “healthier” all around), there are dozens of other foods with high cross-reactivity to gluten, such as: instant coffee, dairy, rice, buckwheat, tapioca and quinoa (in fact, many of these ingredients are often found in gluten free products).

Weight Gain Essential: Experiment with Foods that Work for Your Body

If you are struggling to put on weight and tend to eat the same things most days, experiment with food variety or eliminating questionable trigger foods for you to see how your body (and weight) respond. The top gut irritating foods many people find they are intolerant to include:

Nuts/Nutbutters

Peanuts/Soy

Grains

Dairy (especially conventional dairy)

Artificial Sweeteners Note: Don’t forget that “cutting out” doesn’t mean “restricting.” Instead replace these foods with other foods, such as tigernuts, pumpkin seeds, sunbutter, and coconut butter for nuts and nut butter; starchy tubers (like butternut squash, sweet potatoes or plantains) for grains; raw honey, xylitol, or pure maple syrup in place of most commercial sweeteners (in protein powders), and coconut milk/yogurt or full fat grassfed kefir and yogurt in place of conventional dairy.

5. You’re Forgetting Vegetables

Just because you’re in “weight gain” mode doesn’t mean that veggies have to go off the table. Vegetables provide your body (and gut) with essential fibers and prebiotics for digesting your food in the first place, as well as help ease digestion (and prevent bloating and constipation). Many people neglect veggies, especially on a weight gain diet, thinking that carrots and greens means eating like a bird. However, the opposite is true. Without veggies in your diet, your body does eat like a bird (not getting the well rounded nutrients you need to build into your cellular function and metabolic processes).

Weight Gain Essential: Taste the Rainbow

Aim for 1-3 veggies with each meal—especially dark leafy greens, prebiotic and soluble fibers (like cooked and cooled potatoes/sweet potatoes, roasted squash, carrots, beets). Preferably cook, sautee, steam or roast your veggies to enhance digestion (and prevent over fullness from raw veggies).

6. You Have a “Hollow Leg” (or Metabolic/Thyroid Imbalance or Mitochondrial Dysfunction)

Do you ever feel like your have a hollow leg—like no matter what you eat or how much you eats, your food goes nowhere? Although this is a funny expression that Uncle Joey used to joke with you about over Thanksgiving turkey, it may not be too far off if you have something else going on “under the hood.”

We briefly discussed the importance of gut health in point #1, but beyond the gut, an underlying dysfunction in your thyroid (metabolic mothership) or mitochondria (cells and cellular processes) can also challenge your weight gain efforts—especially if your body has ever been subjected to chronic stress. Stress wreaks havoc on your body as a whole—from circadian rhythm dysfunction, lack of sleep, poor quality foods, eating the same things every day, overtraining or under-training, antibiotic use, long-term medication use, a history of disordered eating and toxic chemical exposure.

For instance, in a study of individuals in recovery from chronic eating disorders (i.e. individuals with long term stress on their bodies), the subjects’ resting metabolic rate increased upwards of 20% for their height and weight—some needing upwards of 5,000 calories to gain and maintain their weight (5, 6).

This is significant since eating disorders are highly associated with chronic stress, thyroid and mitochondrial disturbances (3). Another example: toxic burden from overexposure to the 85,000+ unregulated chemicals in our plastics, cleaning and hygiene chemicals, toxic beauty products, heavy metals, mold, medications, tap water and pesticides can also wreak havoc on your body at a cellular level if you’ve had your fair share (7).

What this means for your metabolism? If the “balance” of your body’s processes is thrown off, then the last thing your body may want to do is “build” or gain weight. In fact, for some thyroid disturbances or mitochondrial dysfunction can lead to skeletal muscle breakdown, nutrient deficiencies and even unwanted weight loss, as your cells and hormones can become starved at a cellular level.

Weight Gain Essential: Get a Complete Blood Panel Run + Additional Testing (if Needed)

Look under the hood. Work with a practitioner to assess your metabolic health. Get blood work completed, including a complete thyroid panel, as well as complete iron panel (since iron overload and deficiencies can also influence metabolism). Your practitioner should be able to guide you for any further testing as well for things like: mold, autoimmunity, organic acids, and heavy metals if warranted.

Here are the ideal ranges for thyroid markers:

TSH 1-2 UIU/ML or lower (Armour or compounded T3 can artificially suppress TSH) Free T4 >1.1 NG/DL Free T3 > 3.2 PG/ML Reverse T3 less than a 10:1 ratio RT3:FT3 Thyroid Peroxidase Antibodies (TPOAb) & Thyroglobulin Antibodies (TgAb) < 4 IU/ML or negative

Here are ideal ranges for iron markers, depending on the season of life you’re in:

Serum Iron Men: 40–135 μg/dL Pre-menopausal Women: 40–135 μg/dL Post-menopausal Women: 40–135 μg/dL

Serum Ferritin Men: 30–200 ng/dL Pre-menopausal women: 30–100 ng/dL Post-menopausal Women: 30–100 ng/dL

Transferrin Saturation Men: 17–45% Pre-menopausal Women: 17–45% Post-menopausal Women: 17–45%

TIBC Men: 275–425 μg/dL Pre-menopausal Women: 275–425 μg/dL Post-menopausal Women: 275–425μg/dL

UIBC Men: 175–350 μg/dL Pre-menopausal Women: 175–350 μg/dL Post-menopausal Women: 175–350 μg/dL

Soluble Transferrin Receptor Men: 14.5–25 nmol/L Pre-menopausal Women: 13–25 nmol/L Post-menopausal Women: 14.5–25 nmol/L

Reticulocyte Hemoglobin Content (CHr) Men: 24.5–31.8 pg Pre-menopausal Women: 24.5–31.8 pg Post-menopausal Women: 24.5–31.8 pg

7. You’re Eating on the Go

Optimal digestion happens in a “parasympathetic state” (rest and digest). Eating on the go, in addition to standing up while eating, distracted eating (watching TV, checking your phone) or eating out at restaurants, (more than eating in) is stressful for the body’s digestive system.Often coupled with this is also the dilemma of not chewing your food enough. The result? Poorly digested and poorly absorbed foods…and lack of weight gain.

Weight Gain Essential : Rest & Digest

Slow down at meal times. Eat your meals seated and preferably not on the go. Cook and prepare your foods as much as possible. Chew your food (really well), and mindfully enjoy your meals (i.e. refrain from distracted eating).

8. You’re Meal Timing is Off

The human body loves balance—especially circadian rhythm balance. Every human has an internal biological clock that operates in tandem with the sun—ideally, we have more energy in the morning as the sun rises, plenty of gusto and energy during the day, then a bell curve dip in the evening, ready to “tuck in” and wind down as the sun goes down. However, if we disturb this circadian function—including our meal timing, then our body and metabolism can get off as well. While there is no perfect time to eat, there are general guidelines and hours during which your body is able to digest best. Eating at the “wrong” time windows also affects your metabolism.

In one study, aimed at determining if time of day affected weight loss in mice, researchers from UT Southwestern Medical Center found: Mice on a reduced calorie plan that ate only during their normal feeding/active cycle were the only ones among five groups to lose weight, despite consuming the same amount as another group fed during their rest time in daylight (8).

Weight Gain Essential: Eat with Your Circadian Rhythms

Eat in tune with your circadian rhythms to maximize the fuel you eat.

Here’s a general guide:

6-8 Breakfast/First Meal

10-11 Mid-Morning Snack (if you eat a snack)

12-2 Lunch

3-5 Afternoon Snack (if you snack)

6-8 Dinner

9-10 Bedtime Snack (if you snack)

These guidelines fall in line with the way your body metabolizes food thought the day.

9. Your Body is in “Catabolic Mode”

Catabolism stands for “break down.” Anabolism is exactly the opposite: building up or weight gain. Together, catabolism and anabolism are integral and opposite parts of the metabolic cycle that require ideal balance to maintain a strong body, healthy weight, and muscle mass. If these activities are not in balance, the body can be in a catabolic state. The culprits to balance? Chronic stress, overtraining, prolonged fasting or restrictive diets, chronic infection, such as Lyme disease or H. Pylori, poor quality food intake, major surgery, burning a candle at both ends, lack of sleep, lack of water (dehydration), and beyond.

Excessive or prolonged stress, resulting in catabolism (without adequate compensating anabolism or recovery) has negative consequences for your weight gain goals.

Muscle tissue along and essential body fat throughout the body can become depleted. Without the sufficient anabolic process, the process of growing and repairing tissue doesn’t happen, sending the body into a net negative energy state, defined by gradual weight loss, reduction of muscle mass and healthy body fat.

If not reversed early on, chronic catabolism happens—making you a “hard gainer” with your body constantly trying to catch up and locking your metabolic cycle into a deficit with low energy, failure to gain weight despite excessive caloric intake, unexplained weight loss, hypoglycemia, shortness of breath and inability to take deep respiration, and more.Translation? Adrenal fatigue or “HPA Axis Dysfunction.”

Is this you?

Weight Gain Essential: Don’t Push Your Body

When your body is in a catabolic state, typical measures for weight gain, health and nutrition are not always tolerated. Your body is highly sensitive and may not be able to accept BOTH natural or synthetic anabolic compounds or hacks that have stimulating properties. This may mean taking a step back from high calorie loads, inflammatory foods (dairy, grains, nuts), hard workout sessions and nutritional supplements—all of which can be a “good thing” but cause more stress than good in the catabolic state.

A common error of trying to use more calories or more supplements to reverse the catabolic cycle prematurely (when the body is still in catabolism and yet to stabilize), is that programs that focus primarily on aggressive tactics often fail. In catabolic mode or “adrenal fatigue,: the body is trying to slow down in order to conserve energy because it perceives danger and a threat to survival.

Forcing more food into the body requires the body to use more energy for digestion and metabolite breakdown. And even though nutritional supplements may seem harmless to” boost your adrenals” or immunity, if your body is in “break down mode,” these measures can trigger adrenal crashes. Instead of trying to push your body out of catabolism, here’s how to approach restoring your body to a place where it’s ready to be “pushed” towards health instead:

Step 1: Prevent Catabolism from Worsening

Use basic whole foods nutrition, juiced vegetables, basic movement (walking, yoga), rest and cutting out unnecessary commitments and obligations.

Step 2: Focus on Essential Nutrition

Let food be thy medicine. Before pushing forward into high caloric meal plans once you have a stable foundation, the goal of step 2 is still gradual restoration of total health and function. This is best accomplished by focusing on eating micronutrients through nutrient dense foods (fresh vegetables and fruits, organ meats, fatty fish, grass-fed and pastured proteins, essential fatty acids), and customizing the exact nutrients to your needs. A one size fits all dietary plan is not possible here because of great individual variance. Consider working with a nutritionist to build a balanced, restorative meal plan for you.

Step 3: Proper Supplementation

Once a baseline of health and function is restored and the catabolic state has slowed, supplements may gradually be integrated to boost overall function. Some helpful supports may include: adaptogenic herbs (like ashwaganda, rhodiola, cordyceps or reishi mushroom), essential fatty acids (like cod liver oil), immune-boosting supports (Vitamin C, liposomal curcumin, glutathione and resveratrol). Work with a functional medicine practitioner on this one.

10. You’re Not Recovering Properly

Perhaps you are not all the way into catabolic mode…but you’re heading that way fast if stress (and lack of recovery) are your “norms.” You can eat all the sweet potatoes and ice cream in the world, but if your body is in “stressed out mode,” then you won’t see the labors of your high calorie intake work like they should. Beyond calories, quality sleep, hydration and workout habits are essential for a balanced bod (that can readily accept weight gain). If you under sleep, don’t hydrate or overtrain, then you won’t get anywhere (fast).

Weight Gain Essential:

Aim for 7-9 hours of sleep each night

Drink half your bodyweight in ounces of filtered water each day (bonus: add lemon)

Balance your workouts: Daily movement is not a bad thing, aim for 3-5 days of strength training, 1-2 days of power (HIIT), yoga or flexibility training, and

11. You’re Trying to Be Arnold

Your body is your body. Arnold’s body is his body. Cindy Crawford’s body is her body. Every BODY is different, and one of the biggest “get ups” in the weight gain game is keeping your eyes everywhere else, but on your own “ball.” The more we look to others’ bodies and characteristics as our own ideal (instead of determining our own), the further from our goals we will continue to be (because we will never fully get there).

Weight Gain Essential: Clearly Define Who Thriving YOU Is

Who is thriving, healthy, body confident you? What does he or she look like, act like, feel like, think like? If you could be the best version of you—not someone else, who would that be and qualities would you possess? Get a clear picture of that girl or that guy. Bullet point your top qualities of who you want to be in your healthy body and healthy mindset, then… put on the “as if” mindset in your own weight gain journey. The “as if” mindset is like putting on a superhero cape or princess dress as a kid and believing you were totally Superman or Belle from :Beauty and the Best.” So as we think therefore we become.

12. You’re on the Wrong Supplements

The supplement industry is a black hole with everything from protein powders to weight gainers, adrenal supports, multi-vitamins, probiotics and beyond. However, not all supplements are created equal, and most all supplements are unregulated—leaving those who are unfamiliar with the differences in strains, types, potencies, company reputations and overall quality of supplements in the dark about the “best” supplements for you.

Hate to break it to you, but many sups are nothing more than placebo effect, overheated during processing and manufacturing, not potent enough to make a difference and/or half-baked marketing lies.

For instance, it’s been estimated that upwards of 90% of probiotics on shelves do not contain the probiotics they claim.While supplements can be beneficial for getting in extra micronutrients you don’t get in your diet, or supporting underlying deficiencies or dysfunctions (such as poor gut health, poor thyroid or metabolic function, “adrenal fatigue,” etc.), it’s best not to go too crazy or depend on supplements too much as the “answer” for your weight gain success.

Weight Gain Essential: Invest in Quality Supps & Get a Plan for You

Less is more, and here are my top 5 weight gain supportive supplements most people can benefit from:

Soil Based Probiotic: Megaspore Biotic (use code “THRIVE” to be able to check out under the Register Tab as a patient)

Prebiotic: Sunfiber (helps digest your probiotic)

Digestive Enzymes: Transformation Enzymes Digest

Quality MultiVitamin: Metabolic Synergy by Designs for Health (use code LAURYNLAX at checkout to have access to check out)

Clean Protein Powder: Equip Foods Prime Protein , Vital Protein CollagenConsult with your healthcare practitioner or get a custom supplement and nutrition plan for you

13. You’re Stressing Out (About Your Weight)

Did we mention stress is the number one culprit working against your weight gain efforts? It is.

Weight Gain Essential: Enjoy the Journey

Health is about the journey—not the destination. Along your weight gain restoration, enjoy the journey of building into your healthy lifestyle, body and mindset. You will get there. Focus on one day and one positive action step at a time.

RESOURCES

https://www.niddk.nih.gov/health-information/health-statistics/overweight-obesity

https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/de06/e7525826f407cbbce56f14ba037f9b190218.pdf

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4839080/

http://ucce.ucdavis.edu/files/datastore/234-779.pdf

https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyt.2018.00199/full

https://academic.oup.com/jcem/article/96/2/333/2709494

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3693132/

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/07/170718091542.htm

The post 14 Best Ways to Gain Weight (Without Harmful Effects)  appeared first on Meet Dr. Lauryn.

Source/Repost=> https://drlauryn.com/hormones-metabolism/14-best-ways-to-gain-weight-without-harmful-effects%e2%80%a8/ ** Dr. Lauryn Lax __Nutrition. Therapy. Functional Medicine ** https://drlauryn.com/

#Holistic #Nutrition #Therapy #Recovery #Functional #Medicine #Dr. Lauryn Lax #Dr.Lauryn

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belladonnaandulriched · 4 years ago

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beautiful tragedy | chapter thirteen: welcome to hollywood

Joey’s point of view

The sun shines down on my face and my head. The smell of the salt from the ocean hangs over me like it’s a butcher block. Salted fresh meat ready to slice, but i don’t believe for one second that the meat on my bones is enough to feed a single person much less a whole entire neighborhood of Los Angeles.

Lars is right next to me, and he looks as though he has seen hell on earth. I can only imagine where that fire was in proximity to his house. We have made our way outside to the gray fog as it’s burning away from the midday sun—

Okay, I’ll stop waxing poetic now, as if I even know how to do such a thing in the first place. California is precious to me, much like how New York will always be precious to me. Coast to coast, that’s what I think about.

I’ll say this, too: the amount of gauze on his wrist at the moment is something to write home about. There’s also a little dark blood stain on the thigh of his jeans that’s in the shape of the freeway surrounding Syracuse.

He’s also looking at me with some serious intent.

My stomach aches and my body feels as though it’s about to collapse right on the sidewalk. I feel my knees quiver and shake about. I miss the comfort of my bed and the softness of Millie right next to me. I watch him adjust the gauze on his wrist and then he turns to me with his eyes squinted from the hazy afternoon sun.

“Home sweet home,” I say to him.

“For me, for sure,” he replies with a sly smirk upon his face. And then he turns serious again.

“I want to give you something to eat.”

“Me?” I ask him, stunned.

“Yes.” He clears his throat and shakes his wrist.

“You must eat, Joey,” he encourages me in a gentle but firm tone. “You look gaunt—emaciated, even. Surely you must be starving to death at the moment.”

My stomach twists and aches some more within me. I still have the resistance inside me, to stop myself from eating because of everything that’s happened so far. It aches me so much that it almost feels like I’m carsick. But I’m here in California—I need to get away from myself for a little while.

He clutches his wrist and grimaces at the feeling.

“When my parents and I first moved here from Denmark, one place we went to for lunch often, down in Hollywood.”

“So you wanna take me down to Hollywood,” I smirk at him.

“We will take the one thing that you and I both know more than anything and the one thing that almost killed me.”

“Pretty daring of you, Mr. Lars,” I tease him.

“Everyone knows that to heal means to face it straight on.”

He leads me to the curb, where we’re soon met by a big lumbering blue transit bus. Lucky for me, Lars is kind enough to pay the little fare for the both of us, and we take the first couple of plush dark blue seats near the front, right behind the driver. I’m nestled down next to the window and he’s pressed right next to me. He’s silent for a moment and then he turns to me with a grave look on his face.

“I have no idea if I will even have a house,” he confesses to me, “or a girlfriend.”

“I don’t know if I’ll even have a place to live, either,” I say to him, “or money, for that matter.”

“Once again, you and I are both fucked up.”

“Fucked up and in need of each other’s company—“

My stomach lets out this low guttural rumble that sends a sharp pain down my belly. I press my hands there to comfort it, but it’s useless. He nibbles on his bottom lip.

“Yeah, you need something to eat,” he declares.

“Lars, you could be cleaned out today,” I point out.

“Yes, but you need it more than I do. I’m getting you so much food when we’re there—and I will force it down your gullet if I must.”

The bus doors squeak shut next to us and we begin to roll forward.

“Force feed me, Lars?”

“Yes! I will make you eat the whole restaurant if push comes to shove. Absolutely fill that poor malnourished belly of yours.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have to do that if ya mind tellin’ me what you did to your wrist again.”

“I shall tell you over lunch.”

“And make me lose my appetite? I don’t think so.”

“You won’t, I promise.”

“Unless it’s gruesome.”

“It was—kind of bloody.”

“Kinda?”

“Kind of, yes.”

“Care explaining to me the blood on your pants then?”

“...nosebleed.”

“Nosebleed?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Lars.”

Another sharp shot of pain shoots across my belly again and it forces me to bring my knees up to my chest. I bow my head and grimace from the awful feeling.

“Shit, man, you really are in dire straits now...” His voice trails off; I lift my head to see him adjusting the gauze yet again.

“And so are you,” I groan out.

“Okay. You want me to tell you the truth?”

“Please.”

He sighs through his nose and leans in closer to me so I can hear him over the roar of the bus.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” he says in a low voice.

“You couldn’t take it anymore? Couldn’t take what?”

“Fear. The fear of waking up burnt to a crisp. The fear of not being able to say goodbye to Debbie.”

“So you—“

He nods before I can finish.

“Joey, it was an utter bloodbath. That little bloodstain on my pants here is just a little pinhead sized bit of the carnage. So much blood for such a small little slit...” He shakes his head.

“You know there was a cat that stayed with me for a little bit,” I start without moving out of the position.

“What’d you name her?” He knits his eyebrows together.

“Millie. And it was funny—it was like she knew.”

“She knew what?”

“That I’m in dire straits and a slave to my own stomach.”

“She wanted you to live on, Joey. She wanted you to eat and then come here with me.”

“What’s even weirder is she left literally right before I left for the airplane,” I recall. “Again, it’s was like she knew.”

“I cut and bleed to feel away the fear, and you starve and pinch to feel away the fear, too. My fiancée is not here and yet a four legged friend knew more about you in a couple of days. I am in pain and you are drying in the cold California sun—“ He stops dead in his tracks.

“Wha?”

“Look over there.” He gestures out the bus window next to me. I turn my head to behold the sight of the Hollywood sign emerging from behind the hillside. We’re going to be right underneath it!

“I am going to nurse you and take care of you today,” he tells me, “and you are going to let loose for a while. We need this, Joey. You and me both. What do you say?”

He juts out his pinky finger for me. We’re here for a reason, and I don’t want to feel like this. I want to feel rich and full, even if it’s just for a single day. One more show before my stomach collapses into itself and my skin and hair dry out with the Santa Ana winds, and one more show before his blood spills on the valley floor and he, too, withers and dries up before he falls into the ocean. I hook my pinky around his.

“Welcome to Hollywood,” he says.

“Welcome to Hollywood,” I repeat it.

#beautiful tragedy #beautiful tragedy fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #metallica fanfic #anthrax fanfic #metallica #anthrax #chapter 13 #joey belladonna #joey belladonna fanfic #at land's end #at land’s end series #also on ao3 #writing #fan writing #text

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