#in a confined space with an extremely bored individual who wants to not be there

[catto-ohno]

Safety~

♡

[spiritualviolation]

HEADCANON FREE SPACE - GRIAN

from the response to this post

hi hello!! this post is a free space for people to come by and share their headcanons about a specific mcyt character, and this post is for grian!

grian is like. one of those chars that are just headcanon central, so i thought it be appropriate to start with him

not-exactly-rules but some guidelines + my own headcanons under the cut!

- GO ABSOLUTELY NUTS!! share as MANY as you like, i literally don’t mind if you’re going to make a ten page essay about your headcanons. just go wild, just as long as it sticks to the character of this post! bc if it i do multiple characters on one post it might get overwhelming and messy

- you can either do it in the tags or you can just reblog and add to this, i don’t mind as long as it’s convenient for you! you can add to other people’s rbs but i do think it would be better if you rb it straight off this post, but that depends on you!!

- if you want to reblog with your design as well so you can explain your hcs, go ahead! i would absolutely love to see how people design the characters individually!!

i will probably make a masterpost for this but for now we’ll start humble, but i’m aiming to release one post per week, but maybe would speed it up if my schedule allows me!

so yea, go wild!

i will probably start with the life series peeps first but i am thinking of maybe doing qsmp peeps as well after!

my grian headcanons cause i wrote a whole thing in my notes app:

- in my hc, the forms of watchers are dream-like and amorphous, basically visual mindfucks in appearance. grian who was fairly new to the watchers still kept his regular human form, but those who have been watchers for a very long time eventually would lose their individual human identity, and is assimilated into the collective that are the watchers. grian, if give or take maybe a century, the same thing would have eventually happened to him.

- his wings, gifted to him when he was ‘taken’, are generally amorphous and shifting, and you can never focus what shape they’re supposed to be (they can give you a headache the longer you try to look at their genuine form), but he can disguise them in any shape he wants (bird wings, dragon wings, etc.) so it doesn’t hurt to look at them.

- grian cut off his association with them just several months after he was taken, joining hermitcraft not long after, estranging themselves from them.

- he can still use his powers (which include astral projection, and etc.), but because of his cut ties they’re significantly weaker than the average watcher. for example, watchers can ‘watch’ over an entire server, but grian can only ‘watch’ one person at a time.

- his reasons for not wanting to be assimilated into the watchers is that he knows what it’s like to have been pushed and forced to take up a role against his will (ahem high school ahem), and it’s hurt him and he won’t want to let it hurt him again. aside from that, he finds that the watchers are extremely boring, considering all they do is observing passively from the sidelines and all that, which is the complete opposite of how grian likes to operate. he finds it extremely restrictive and prevents him from actively participating in things. not wanting to be confined to that, he cut ties with them.

- however he still uses his powers for troublemaking and mischief, and also to help others when they need it. he doesn’t consider himself affiliated with the watchers because he thinks it’s merely some godly title and also because he wouldn’t want anyone to think him differently, so he doesn’t really hide it.

- as he denied his watcher status very early into joining them, he still has the physicality (stamina, energy and such) of a regular human. only his wings are amorphous instead of his entire form since his wings were given to him when he joined them.

- made the life smp as a fun game for his friends, but in my hc, they did a test run before starting 3rd life. it was during that test run when the watchers seized control over the server.

- during 3rd life, he put admin restrictions on himself to remove his wings so he couldn’t fly and it was fair game for the rest.

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 18: E Pluribus Unum

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x female!Henderson!reader

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: The horrid night at the hospital brought up many worries about you, especially for Jonathan. With the party’s advice, Nancy and Jonathan devise a plan to hopefully get you back to normal.

Word Count: 3720

Warnings: pretty angsty, a little fluff, language, violence, gore, discussions of possession and lack of autonomy, mentions of death, different perspective in italics

A/N: We’re getting close to the end of season 3! I’m thinking I’m gonna space these episode rewrites between some extra scenes I couldn’t fit into the story and some individual one shots, but let me know what you think! As always, my in box and tag lists and requests are all open! Love you!

Tags: @just-my-fandom​ @nightbu-g​ @neemonroe​

As Nancy and Jonathan watched the creature shift form and trickle through the vents in the door, panic flooded through their veins.

Jonathan contemplated running back to you and waking you up, to beg for you to take control of that thing and save Nancy. But as he thought about it, the image of your panicked face flashed in front of his eyes. He saw how fearful you were that you were losing control, that you might put everyone at risk.

Ultimately, he decided that you being asleep was for the better, but that didn’t make this situation any easier.

He heard a thud from inside the room as he gripped onto an oxygen tank and began to ram it into the door handle to try and break it off. After that proved fruitless, he shifted his efforts to the glass window in the door, watching the webbing cracks grow longer and longer but the glass still didn’t cave.

The creature let out a blood-curdling roar as a herd of footsteps approached Jonathan. Defeatedly, he stumbled back and tried to heave in a few breaths as Eleven stepped up to the door and tore it from its hinges. As the door crashed to the ground, the creature turned to screech at the group that was herded in the doorway.

“Jesus,” Mike gasped as Max hissed out a hushed “what the fuck” under her breath.

The creature rushed towards El, who was now a few steps inside the room, and she quickly swung her hand to the side, effortlessly tossing the creature against the wall. Then another wall. And then the ceiling.

Screams fell from El’s lips and the monster’s pincer-like jaws as it collided with the floor, though it quickly gained its composure and scrambled to its legs. It began to crawl forward with a vengeance, but Eleven threw her hands forward and sent the creature flying out the window.

As soon as they heard the splat of the creature hitting the pavement, Jonathan rushed into the room to check on Nancy while the party rushed down the stairs. Once she gave Jonathan a reassuring nod that she was, in fact, okay, they followed the party down the stairs and out to the parking lot where the creature laid.

The creature dissolved into that strange coagulation of guts and gore once more before inching over to a storm drain and dripping down into the tunnels.

Once there was to remnants of the creature lingering on the asphalt, Jonathan’s worry shifted to you, who was still on the abandoned floor of the hospital.

“Y/N,” he spoke, quickly turning on his heel and heading back inside.

“She’s in there?” Max asked incredulously, her eyes tracking Jonathan as he nodded quickly before disappearing behind the hospital doors.

His footsteps echoed throughout the stairwell as he rushed up the stairs two at a time, pushing through the door to the third floor. Panic was clouding his brain, hoping that you were still there and you hadn’t slipped away before he could try and help you. God, he just wanted to make you okay again. Make you you again.

As he rounded the corner to the room where you laid, he could barely even feel his feet from how overused they were. Nevertheless, he pushed forward, calling your name as he entered the room.

Luckily, you were still on the floor, and the inky veins seemed to have faded from your skin. You were so still, so motionless, though, as you laid on the cold linoleum that it worried Jonathan.

He gently knelt beside you and rolled you onto your back, one hand cupping your cheek while the other felt for a pulse on your neck. Once he felt the stead thrumming under his fingertips, he let out a sigh of relief. His hand left your cheek to brush a few strands of hair away from your face, letting his eyes soak in your relaxed features for only a moment before pulling you into his arms and lifting you off of the floor.

***

Your eyes began to flutter open from the movement, a small sigh falling from your parted lips. “Jonathan?” you whispered, panic beginning to seep into your veins.

He glanced down at you as he walked, each limping step making your head loll slightly. “Hey, it’s okay,” he hummed, clearly sensing the anxiety that had took hold. 

Your gaze flickered over every bruise that marred his face. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I couldn’t take control. I couldn’t stop it.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. We’re gonna get this thing out of you.”

You shook your head fervently, gripping onto his shirt. “Jonathan, you can’t. I’m gonna hurt you. I don’t have enough energy to keep the flayer at bay.” To say that you didn’t have enough energy was a sever understatement, though. You felt as though you’d been awake for days and had just run a marathon. Your body was screaming for sleep, your eyelids already beginning to droop.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“Jonathan, I don’t want to hurt you. Please.”

As he stepped out of the stairwell and through the exit of the hospital, he softly shushed you. Your mouth opened to argue, to beg for him to leave you and protect himself, but it fell shut along with your eyelids as the gentle rocking of his steps and his voice lulled you to sleep.

***

The drive to Hopper’s cabin was tense and silent, everyone in shock of what had just occurred. That, and the fact that they were harboring the leader of the flayer, the creature that was on a mission to kill.

Jonathan had volunteered to sit in the back of Nancy’s car with you on the ride there so that he could keep an eye on you, and though Nancy gave him a look of worry, he proceeded with his plan. 

He sat with your limp body leaning against him, your head resting against his shoulder and your open mouth fanning your warm breath on his neck. With his girlfriend in the driver’s seat, his mind wandered back to the night before when your lips were pressed against his. He thought about the many times he had woken up with you in his bed, when both of you had fallen asleep to a mixtape that was still in the tape deck by morning. When the sunshine fell perfectly on your face that had a ghost of a smile lingering on it. When your legs were tangled with his and your head was resting on his chest, warm huffs of air falling from your lips and mingling with his breath due to the close proximity.

He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt at ridding himself of the thoughts, though all he could see was that rare glimpse of peace that he’d witness when you slept.

With a huff, he looked down at your sleeping form and watched your shoulders rise and fall with steady breaths.

He wished he could see the flutter of your eyelids as you dreamt, but they were hidden behind a scrap of fabric as a precaution in case you had awoken.

Once Nancy parked in front of the cabin, Mike assisted Jonathan in carrying you out of the car and into the house. Gently, the two boys laid you on the bed of the spare bedroom that was tucked away in the very back corner of the cabin.

As Jonathan slowly closed the door behind him and locked it, Mike gave him a look. “What?” Jonathan whispered, tucking the key into his back pocket.

“You should probably tone down the heart eyes a little bit,” Mike advised, arching a brow at Jonathan.

Jonathan’s brows furrowed in bewilderment, glancing around quickly before stepping close to Mike and lowering his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Dude, are you that oblivious?” Jonathan shrugged, and Mike let out a sigh. “It’s super obvious that you’re in love with Y/N-”

“I am not!”

Mike stared at him silently with a look of extreme doubt, and Jonathan’s shoulders slumped. “Just try to tone it down a bit, dude. For Nancy.”

Guilt washed over Jonathan’s features at the mention of Nancy. “I just... I don’t know what to do.”

Mike gave him a look of sympathy. “Whatever you do, just don’t hurt either of them.”

Jonathan nodded silently and the two boys parted ways.

***

You woke with a start, searching around the room with wide eyes and a racing heart. You shoved the heavy comforter off of your body and scrambled to the carpeted floor. “Hello?” you called out as you balled your fingers into fists.

The floor creaked with each step, but everything else was silent. “Hello? Where the fuck am I?” you called out once more, stepping up to the door and trying the doorknob. The door didn’t budge, and your breath new fell from your lips in short bursts as panic took over your body. 

Your fists collided with the door a few times, letting out a scream of frustration when the wood didn’t give. “Goddammit, let me out!” You threw your body against the door, but the door still held strong. “What the fuck are you going to do with me! Let me out, you son of a bitch!”

***

On the other side of the door, everyone who had fell asleep in the living room woke up from the pounding and the screams. Each person glanced to someone else in the room, silently communicating their panic from the adverse reaction you were displaying to being confined into an unfamiliar room.

Jonathan and Nancy quickly rose from their spot on the couch, Jonathan signaling at everyone to stay quiet while Nancy grabbed onto the rope that they had found the night before. Silently, both teens approached the door with caution and light footsteps.

*** Your outburst easily tired you, and you stumbled back onto the bed with a huff, your gaze fixed in a glare on the door. 

It seemed to be only moments later that the door creaked shut, two figures slipping through the opening before slamming it shut once more. The two people slipped into the crack of sunlight that shone through the blinds, revealing themselves to be Nancy and Jonathan.

“Get away from me,” you hissed, shuffling back into the furthest corner of the bed. The two exchanged a look before Jonathan turned his back and headed over to the desk in the room that was accompanied by a wooden chair.

Nancy gripped onto your ankles and pulled you out of the corner, dragging you against the sheets and causing them to bunch up underneath you. You let out a growl and kicked with all your might, but she had already tied a quick knot around your legs. With another harsh tug, she yanked you off of the bed and onto the floor. You let out a gasp of pain, feeling all of the air escape your lungs and leave you winded.

Jonathan pulled the chair away from the desk and set it behind you and Nancy before rushing over to Nancy and assisting her in lugging you onto the chair. With your free hands, you gripped onto Jonathan’s shirt and tugged with all your might in an attempt to pull him to the ground, but to no avail.

The two sat you in the chair, and Nancy quickly freed Jonathan’s shirt from your grip. A huff left your lips as Nancy yanked your arms behind your back, tying them together before knotting it to the chair. “Let me go,” you said simply, showing no emotion whatsoever. Jonathan clenched his jaw, handing Nancy the other set of ropes for your legs. “Oh, I’m getting the silent treatment now?” You shook your head, leaning forward as much as your binds allowed you. “I said. Let. Me. Go.”

“Just ignore her, Jonathan. It isn’t her,” Nancy said, finishing up the binds on your legs before pushing herself to her feet. “I’m gonna get the heaters.” With that, she left.

“Isn’t her? Hell, I’m just voicing her concerns, her needs. And what she needs is for you to let her go. You don’t wanna break her heart, do you, Johnny? Not like all the other times you had?”

“Shut up,” he hissed through his teeth, eyes trained on the blank wall behind you.

“Oh, he speaks!” You flashed him a sinister smirk. “And why exactly should I shut up? I’m just speaking the truth-”

“You don’t know the truth-”

“Oh, but I do. I have access to her thoughts, her memories, everything. Like I said, I am her. And god, did you hurt her. When you saved Nancy from the Upsidedown but not her. When you ditched her for Nancy all those times, so you could ‘help Nancy,’ when little miss Y/N was the one needing help all along.”

He gulped, clenching his fists.

“All the times she let you run off to do god-knows-what with Nancy while she watched the kids. Watched your own brother.”

“I said, shut up-”

“You know she wished she died that night, in the tunnels. She didn’t want to be the sad damsel in distress anymore, didn’t want to be saved.”

Tears began to cloud his vision, and he turned on his heel to face the opposite wall.

“She wished she was with you. Wished she was in Nancy’s spot, helping you and your brother. But no, she had to go with the kids and Steve, had to be on the brink of death. She had to wait for you to help her, the thing she dreaded the most. You seeing her weak.”

“You’re lying. S-She doesn’t feel that way-”

“Then why do you feel so guilty? It’s tangible, I can almost taste it.” You leaned back, eyes trained on the back of his head. “And then you got a job at the Post with little Miss Nancy, leaving Y/N to work at the public pool with Billy. Leaving her to get possessed by the flayer. By me. Can’t you see, Johnny boy? This is all because of you. All her pain, her aching, because of you.” You chuckled softly, a sinister sound that reverberated in your chest. “Because of you, she was left vulnerable, open to being taken by me. I could tell, no matter how many times she cried for you, for anyone to help her, she needed this. She needed this little… Boost of confidence, let’s say. A lack of a filter.”

He sniffled, shaking his head softly. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“You don’t have to, but I know you do. Because you know it’s all true.” You wiggled your fingers and toes, trying to get some circulation back into them. “You know that saying, sober thoughts are drunk actions? Think of me as the alcohol. I take her over, get rid of her filter, and let the truth run wild.”

He spun back around and stepped towards you, crouching down so he was eye-level with your face.

“That’s it. Look at what you did to her. Look at the scars.” You pursed your lips, smirking slightly. “She scares people. She doesn’t want to go outside, doesn’t want to be a spectacle, a walking freak show.”

“She’s not-”

“Did she ever tell you that she has to wear glasses because of her eye?” He shook his head. “She’s too scared to wear them around you. Doesn’t want to seem weird. She has constant headaches because of it, because she can barely see out of her one eye without them.”

His lower lip quivered slightly, his hand inching up to cup your face.

“She can hear you, Johnny. She can see you.” Another bone-chilling laugh. “She’s begging me to stop, but what’s the fun in that?”

“Screw you.”

The door squeaked open and shut, Nancy stepping in with a couple more heaters. “Sorry it took so long, I had to dig them out,” she explained, stopping when she took notice of the odd scene in front of her.

“Good. Let’s get this out of her,” He sighed, standing up straight and helping Nancy plug everything in.

You sat silently, a near-pout on your face as the pair worked on plugging in the multitude of heaters that Nancy had found. “I didn’t know you wanted me gone so badly,” you sighed, giving Jonathan a puppy-dog-eye look as he risked a glance at you. 

The room already began to feel at least ten degrees warmer as all of the heaters got to work, and you glanced down in disdain at the sweater and jeans you wore. Nancy and Jonathan took a seat on the bed, their eyes trained on you as if you were a caged animal.

“So what did you guys do the last time you watched someone get exorcised?” you hummed, that fake smile settling on your lips once more. “Did you makeout, maybe sneak off to do god-knows-what together? It seems that that’s what you both are best at when people need your help.”

Nancy’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What?” she whispered, clearly bewildered by your bold statement.

You cocked your head to the side, feigning innocence. “Don’t you remember? Last year, you and Jonathan had gone off and disappeared while little Will was basically on his deathbed. All he needed was an older sibling, someone to comfort him, and Y/N, had to take up that role because you two were too busy.”

“We were trying to get justice for Barb-”

“And as a result you almost got everyone killed.”

“Shut up!” she screamed as she shot up from her seat and leaned close to you, close enough for you to see the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. “If you say another word, I’m duct taping your mouth shut.”

You clenched your jaw and stared her in the eye, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. Jonathan reached forward and gripped onto Nancy’s forearm, prompting her to look back at him. They exchanged a glance and she contemplated their silent conversation for a moment before settling back down onto the bed.

The room grew warmer and warmer and the tension grew thicker and thicker. Everyone had stayed silent during that time, but that didn’t mean that you were shooting glares at the pair the whole time.

But that heat definitely began to worm its way between you and the flayer, acting like a knife between flesh and meat as it slowly cut away the flayer’s vicelike grip on you. However, as the flayer’s hold on you began to slip away, the days of sleep you’ve missed started to catch up with you.

Your eyelids drooped as sweat trickled down your face, your breaths ragged and hitched from the dry heat and lack of water. “Jonathan, Nancy, please just let me go,” you cried, weakly wiggling your hands and feet in their restraints. 

“Y/N, you know we can’t,” Nancy answered, looking away from you so she wouldn’t feel guilt from the state you were in. 

Nancy and Jonathan were suffering too, sweat making their clothes cling to them like a second skin. But they knew that if you were stuck in this miserable heat, they had to be too. They had to save you, no matter what it took.

Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a tired cry of frustration. “Please! I-I can take control of the mind flayer again and I can keep it from you guys! I can kill it! Please, just let me go!”

Nancy could tell that Jonathan was weighing the outcomes of each option, clearly caving in from the guilt and the heat. “Y/N, we need to get this thing out of you,” Nancy spoke up. “You only have so much control. We can help you.”

“You can’t help me!” you screamed, startling the pair and making them recoil slightly. “Just let me go! Let me go, you sons of bitches!” You began to violently thrash in the chair, prompting the two to get up and try to hold you down. Your screams grew louder when the attempted to restrain you, and they shared a horrified look when those familiar inky veins began to snake up into your skin. 

Your strength grew as the flayer slowly slipped into power as a last ditch effort to continue inhabiting its host, and with one quick yank of your arm, the binds snapped from your wrist. Nancy scrambled to pin your wrist down, but once your other hand freed itself from its confines, both Nancy and Jonathan knew that their efforts were fruitless.

Jonathan rushed to help Nancy, both of them wrestling to keep you restrained while you fought against them with all your might. Your sweat-slicked skin seemed to prove advantageous as you quickly slipped from their grip, yanking the binds around your ankles and breaking them free.

The pair shared a panicked glance as you rose from the chair and shoved them both off of you. “Leave me alone,” you growled, your voice uncharacteristically deep as those black veins protruded from your skin. “Or there will be consequences.”

Jonathan hurried over to you and gripped onto your wrist, giving one last effort to try and help. That clearly was a mistake, though, as you snatched your arm back and landed a quick right jab to his jaw. He stumbled back and clutched his jaw, but as he looked up at you, a flash of guilt and fear could be seen in your eyes. It left as soon as it came, and he hopelessly watched as you slammed your fist into the window and escaped through the newly made exit.

***

Your eyes drooped with exhaustion as you sat on the landing of the stairs, head leaning against the railing as you stared out at the crowd of the flayed that were neatly lined up in single file rows. 

“That-that girl,” he spat, pacing back and forth behind you. “She caused all of this.”

You nodded slowly, your face blank and emotionless. 

“But we’ll win. Soon, we’ll talk control. We’ll end her, them, everyone. Everything will be ours.”

“When?” you hummed, slowly lifting your head from the railing to look up at him.

“Soon.”

[i-cant-believe-i-wrote-this]

What Makes A Memorable Scene: Joy of Life Edition - The Princes

After last time's Chen Ping Ping Edition, I'm back with two more memorable (emotional) scenes! And like last time, of course it's sad LOL

This time it's going to be about the Crown Prince and Second Prince. Both of them are tragic characters, to be honest - both ambitiously wrestle for power but end up being another stepping stone in Fan Xian's rise. I personally like Second Prince a lot, and was sad to see his downfall. Anyway, as usual, I've got some translated excerpts for you as well ~

SPOILERS AHEAD!

1. The Second Prince's Surrender

Volume 6 Chapter 168: 憤怒的葡萄

It was as if the Second Prince only noticed Fan Xian’s arrival at that moment; smiling slightly, he said, “Can I still live?”

Fan Xian had no choice but to repeat His Majesty’s will.

The Second Prince smiled self-depreciatively, saying, “Living like a yellow dog, confined in the mansion for the rest of my life; as Father the Emperor’s hundredth-year festivities arrive, before the new emperor ascends the throne, the Ye clan will be slaughtered like dogs too, and I afterwards privileged with suicide...Tell me, if I live, will my future days be so?”

Fan Xian was silent.

“If so, why should I bother to hinder Ling-Er, hinder...that shameless father in-law?” The Second Prince shrugged, “And living like this in fact hardly has any meaning.”

Fan Xian spoke, “It seems that your ambitions have finally been crushed.”

The Second Prince suddenly stopped putting grapes into his mouth; the purple grapes of early autumn were luscious, and now the smile on his face was equally as sweet; he looked at Fan Xian, saying faintly, “Now that I think about it, the words you said in the teashop before Bao Yue Tower were right...You always wanted to rid me of my ambitions these two years. Recalling the past, I must thank you.”

“It sounds remarkable; I genuinely thought Auntie would help me, genuinely thought Father In-Law would help me...But wherever I looked, it turned out to be you, the greatest enemy of my life, who ever had a shred of sincerity for me.”

The tragedy of the Second Prince was that he never lived for himself, but for the Emperor as a whetstone to hone the blade called the Crown Prince. He was disposable and ultimately a tool, which contrasted with his ambition and intellect to make the reader pity and love him. He knew his role and yet he tried to fight against it - it is his unachieved dream that makes it so heartbreaking. This passage pretty much sums up his whole life, showing his father's callousness, his ultimate expendability, and the overall powerlessness that dominated him in his downfall. Fan Xian's goal of trying to kick Second Prince out of the game was also respectable, and it makes Second Prince more likeable now that he acknowledges and thanks Fan Xian for it. At the end it is the great contrast between Second Prince's former glory and his looming destitute that makes this scene even more sorrowful.

2. The Princes' Scorn

Volume 6 Chapter 172: 百年孤獨

Li Cheng Qian sighed, using the gaze of an equal, even a superior, to look at his invincible Father the Emperor, saying, “You will be the Emperor Unparalleled for a Thousand Years in historical records, and the space beside you is simply so clean, so immaculate that there is no one; won’t it feel lonely?”

The Emperor looked at him indifferently, not saying anything; the corner of his lips bore a light smile, as if to say: why would a deity surpassing the nine skies even mind the loneliness atop clouds and the liveliness of the mortal world?

Then he stood and walked out the entrance of the East Palace. At the palace door a thought came to him, and he drew a letter from his sleeve; this letter was the Second Prince’s will, handed to him earlier by Gong Dian.

The Emperor extracted the thin piece of paper to see what his second son had actually wanted to tell him right before he died.

On the paper were two lines of an extremely messy scrawl, its ink bearing withered bristles, clearly the work of hastiness, yet each twist and turn carried vigor, piercing the back of the paper like a saber or sword, pervaded by fury and insubmission.

The first whetstone the Qing Emperor tossed at the royal court - Second Prince Li Cheng Ze - was shouting a message similar to the Crown Prince’s towards his lofty Father the Emperor, only with words more biting, more acrimonious, especially the last four words.

“Widowed! Solitary! Orphaned! Heirless!”

Old and wifeless are the widowed, reigning without companionship are the solitary, surviving motherless are the orphaned, old and without sons...are the heirless!

To be honest those last four words - widowed, solitary, orphaned, heirless - hit me like punches when I read them. These four words encompass the princes' rage and hatred towards their father - for toying them, deceiving them, and just treating them horribly in general. It was so important for me that the princes' stand up against the Emperor at the end, because their bravery bears their unbending spirit as living, feeling individuals. Finally they win for once - even though it is with their deaths, they break the Emperor's facade of invincibility and indifference. They drag the Emperor from the impression of a powerful entity to just another human being.

I realise I sound super emotional right now, but that's because this scene made the characterisations of all three characters whole and complex. Before this, the princes were all obedient and reverent towards their father, but this emphasised how those traits were false. Before this, the Emperor was portrayed to be all chill about his circumstances but this reveals his sad personal and emotional life. To me, this scene was a small climax on its own.

Anyway, that's all I have for now! Thanks for reading this, and I'll be updating with another (sad) Joy of Life excerpt soon, about Wu Zhu!

Can't wait to see you again!

[astrology-india]

Gemini Compatibility - The Best and Worst Match

New Post has been published on https://www.astrology-india.com/gemini-compatibility/

Gemini Compatibility - The Best and Worst Match

Gemini natives are usually inquisitive and chatty.

Those born under this sign make great partners because they are always willing to live new experiences and then tell anecdotes about them.

However, they could easily get bored in romantic relationships because they need new stimulation constantly.

The good news is that Gemini Suns can be trustworthy and loyal lovers if they find a partner that is flexible and intelligent, just like them.

Getting to know more about Gemini compatibility is desirable if you are interested in creating a healthy connection.

Whether Gemini is your Sun sign or the sign of your partner, you will find this article valuable in order to get information for dealing with the challenges of relationships.

It is vital to remember that Astrology is not limited to the Sun sign.

A professional astrologer could look into the natal charts involved to provide an in-depth analysis of the compatibility between two people.

Sun signs are a good place to start to get a general idea about compatibility.

The Best Gemini Compatibility Matches

The Sun signs that are the best matches for Gemini share some common characteristics with the quick-witted nature of the twins.

In this article, you will get to know more about them.

Gemini and Libra Compatibility

Libra and Gemini like each other because they are positive and air signs.

This means that they are both social and talkative.

Air signs are all connected by trine, an aspect in Astrology that points to-wards an easy flow of energy and mutual understanding.

Both signs are genuinely curious about other people and this makes their relationship go smoothly.

Gemini and Libra Suns enjoy exchanging their ideas, going out with friends, participating in cultural events, and collaborating with important causes.

They want to stay informed and know everything about the latest trends.

In a relationship, Gemini Suns will make their partners laugh. Instead, Libra Suns will bring a good dose of sophistication and appreciation of high-quality pieces of art or clothing.

They will complement each other in a way that will make the other couples jealous!

This almost perfect match may only hit a wall if they do not show their vulnerabilities.

A downside of Libra and Gemini Suns is that they can be superficial.

But if they are willing to open up and express their emotions in a sincere way, this relationship has a lot of potentials.

Gemini and Aquarius Compatibility

Aquarius and Gemini also share their positive and airy qualities.

These two signs really enjoy a good conversation and could be talking for hours.

They are great in a committed relationship because they fill find their partner smart, two characteristics that they highly appreciate.

Gemini Suns can be childish sometimes, but this is not something that Aquarius finds embarrassing. Quite the opposite, actually!

Aquarius Suns will let their Gemini partners display their freakiest side unapologetically.

Innovation, rebelliousness, and originality are traits that Aquarius appreciates and that Gemini can embody with no shame at all.

Gemini Suns will realize that their freedom of expression has no limits when their partners are Aquarius Suns.

The mutable nature of the Gemini Suns will allow them to adapt to some of the most rigid attitudes of the Aquarius Suns.

Gemini understands social dynamics and this sign will rarely fight about their beliefs with someone they really care about.

Aquarius could benefit from watching this flexible attitude because this sign has a fixed nature.

To make the relationship stronger, both signs need to learn how to show their emotions without trying to rationalize them all the time.

Gemini and Aries Compatibility

If you mix the energy of an Aries Sun and the ideas of a Gemini Sun, you get an unstoppable couple. Seriously. These two can achieve their wildest dreams when they are together.

Both Aries and Gemini are positive signs. Gemini is an air sign and Aries is a fire sign, which means that they are extremely compatible.

In astrology, air rekindles fire, so it’s fair to say that these two are going to move forward no matter what.

These two signs don’t care that much about others’ opinions. They know who they are, they know what they want and they never hide their true colors.

When they are together, they are a dynamo of passion, curiosity, and movement.

The emotional realm may be tricky territory for this couple.

Aries Suns are extroverted and show their emotions without filters, but Gemini Suns may want to talk about their emotions in a detached way rather than in a raw way.

Gemini Suns may try separating from what they are feeling and narrate those feelings like they are being experienced by someone else.

Aries Suns may find it complicated to deal with this coldness.

The Least Aries Compatibility Matches

After mentioning the best matches for Gemini Suns, it’s time to take a look at the less compatible ones.

Bear in mind that this Gemini compatibility article is based only on the Sun sign.

If two people have Sun signs that are not compatible, this doesn’t mean that they won’t be able to have a happy relationship.

Compatibility goes beyond Sun signs.

There may be other astrological placements in their charts, as well as an understanding of the inherent values of the partner, that could make a relationship work.

Gemini and Taurus Compatibility

Taurus is a sensual fixed and earthy sign that needs to feel pleasure with all the senses.

Gemini, on the other hand, needs mental stimulation and doesn’t necessarily enjoy being touched all the time.

While Taurus Suns could stay at home, eating and sleeping all day long. Maybe cuddling with their significant other and watching TV.

Gemini would prefer to go out with their partner, trying new things every weekend, and mingling with other people.

A lack of trust is the most terrible issue this couple may have to deal with. Gemini is not the most trustworthy Sun sign.

The natives don’t want to feel suffocated or confined to a boring relationship.

Taurus, instead, is a sign that needs stability and a reliable partner.

Taurus Suns could be quite possessive and this attitude is a bummer for the free Gemini Suns.

Gemini and Taurus Suns have very different interests.

However, they could reach an understanding of their relationship if they are willing to make compromises.

The Gemini Suns may have to slow down a little bit and spend some quiet time at home with their significant other.

The Taurus Suns have to relax and try new experiences or places outside of their comfort zone.

Gemini and Capricorn Compatibility

Gemini Suns can talk to their partners and settle any disagreements by communicating profusely.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t mean a lot to Capricorn Suns because they believe that talk is cheap.

Capricorn Suns need actions, not words. And they may have a hard time dealing with the airy mutability of Gemini Suns.

Both signs are not very sensitive, but they handle their emotions differently.

While Gemini Suns want to express everything that’s bothering them verbally, Capricorn Suns may cope with stressful situations quietly, maybe overworking or saturating themselves with a variety of tasks.

The chemistry between these two signs appears to be nonexistent.

A Gemini Sun may find the responsible and grounded Capricorn Sun as a dull and predictable partner.

A Capricorn Sun, instead, may find the sociable and outgoing Gemini Sun as shallow and erratic.

Capricorn Suns need relaxation and fun in their lives, but Gemini Suns seem to constantly emit rays of diverse and shifting opinions with no direct focus.

Even though they could learn a lot from each other, it would be almost impossible for them to have a long-term relationship.

Gemini and Cancer Compatibility

Cancer is a negative and watery sign. This means that the natives are really in touch with their emotions and need a lot of alone time to process them.

While Gemini Suns love to tell stories and be the center of attention, they may not be capable of holding space for Cancer Suns when they are feeling down.

Cancer Suns may want to share their emotions frequently and gloat over their own misery.

Gemini Suns don’t have enough patience to stay in one place crying. They want to experience life to the fullest and they need to be on the move frequently.

On the contrary, Cancer Suns are very nostalgic and enjoy having a quiet and comfortable existence.

To make their relationship work, both signs will need to make massive and sometimes awkward adjustments.

Since Gemini Suns will hardly change their routine for someone else, their Cancer partners need to give them freedom and room for experimentation.

On the other hand, Gemini will need to pause for a bit in order to listen to the sensitive Cancer Suns and make them feel appreciated.

The Gemini Man

The Gemini man is clever, independent, and entertaining. This man needs a lot of excitement and new adventures in relationships to keep interested.

When a Gemini man falls in love, it is hard to pinpoint how long this state will last.

This man needs constant change and living exhilarating experiences with their significant other.

If he feels that the relationship has become stagnant, he will move on without even hesitating about making that decision.

Making plans for the future with a Gemini man could certainly backfire. He wants to enjoy the moment, no strings attached.

If he is in love, he is willing to commit to someone else, but he doesn’t want to feel tied down. In a relationship, he needs spontaneity and space to nurture his own individuality.

Gemini Man Relationship Compatibility

The signs that are most compatible with a committed relationship with a Gemini man are Gemini and Sagittarius.

Having a relationship with someone of the same Sun sign is great for the Gemini man because he can be certain that his partner will keep the relationship interesting and funny.

Sagittarius is the opposite sign of Gemini. This does not mean that these two signs have irreconcilable differences, but that they will complement each other.

Sagittarius will give Gemini some sense of purpose and direction.

If you’re currently seeing a Gemini man but you want to discover his true feelings then then you can read our article here to discover the signs Gemini man is in love with you.

Gemini Man Sexual Compatibility

In order to experience a satisfying sexual life, the Gemini man has to choose partners with the Sun in Aries or Leo.

His airy nature matches perfectly with the fierce fire of Aries and Leo. This couple may need to call the firefighters when they are in the bedroom!

The Gemini Woman

When the Gemini woman falls in love, she may change her habit of speaking relentlessly with devotion for cuddling.

But she falls out of love as fast as she falls in love. Sometimes, there are no guarantees that her emotions or faithfulness towards a partner will last.

A Gemini woman will be attracted to a well-read and witty partner.

She will never say that “love is blind” because she knows exactly what she is looking for in a significant other.

If the Gemini woman doesn’t feel satisfied with a specific partner, she will quickly trade this person for a new one.

Life is just too short for the Gemini woman to settle for less than she deserves.

Gemini Woman Relationship Compatibility

The signs that are most compatible with a long-term relationship with a Gemini woman are Libra and Aquarius.

Libra and Aquarius are connected with Gemini by trine.

This means that the relationship will be exciting and multi-faceted. Boredom is not even a possibility in a relationship with an airy sign.

Gemini Woman Sexual Compatibility

Even if they will not work well together in a committed relationship, having a sexual partner with the Sun in Taurus or Capricorn will be unforgettable for the Gemini woman.

Earthy signs really know how to connect sexually involving their five senses and activate their partner’s erogenous zones.

Final Thoughts

Lively and interested in pretty much everything they encounter, it’s easy to fall in love with the Mercury-ruled Gemini Suns.

Their gregarious nature and their open and communicative style make them really attractive.

It’s not that Gemini Suns won’t ever settle down. But they won’t sacrifice their hectic lifestyle for a stale relationship.

This is why Gemini compatibility with air signs, as well as with fire signs, will work best for them. Air and fire are positive elements that are not afraid of changing and evolving.

Being in a relationship with an earth or water sign may not work for Gemini.

Since earth and water are elements that belong to the negative polarity, love will not be in the air when these signs try to connect with the positive and extrovert nature of Gemini.

If you’re curious to know more about astrological compatibility between the other zodiac signs then you can see our article here to find out what is the best zodiac match for the other twelve signs.

[bookmawkish]

The best kind of trouble - Loki/Heckyl

@worldoftherandom I guess this kind of fills the “they’ve been sleeping close due to necessity since before they got together” prompt? XD

I just wanted an excuse for some fluff, to be honest. Because I’m a sap. This little episode takes place at some unspecified point before Loki and Heckyl turned up on earth and met Tony and Thor in Chapter 2.

All the Loki/Heckyl stuff

“We’re not going anywhere fast, are we.”

“Please continue,” says Loki, who is currently lying half on his side in an attempt to not get wedged tight. “Your statements of the blindingly obvious are beautiful.”

Heckyl sneers at him, but the expression is lost as Loki can’t really see it. The two of them are inside the confines of the master frigidarium hypocaust on Iobreon - a system which works similarly to the caldarium, but with freezing air circulating from the ice caves below rather than heated air - and it’s barely large enough for Loki to get his shoulders through. Moving through it is a tedious and slightly painful process, but move through it they must if they want to get out. They’ve been escaping now for several hours, moving slowly, taking breaks in the occasional larger vent areas just above the main cold chambers where it’s possible for them to uncurl a little, stretch, breathe. It is not a comfortable situation. The rock tunnels are far from smooth.

Plus, it’s extremely cold. This is not an issue for Loki, whose Frost Giant blood is impervious to abrupt drops in temperature and may even help him function better: but Heckyl, while being alien and unfeasibly long-lived, is still a living creature with a self-regulating body core temperature that needs warmth to keep working properly.

Heckyl is slowly freezing to death in the tunnels and there’s not a thing to be done about it except keep him moving and hope for a swift release from the compound.

“Stop.”

Loki, who is in the lead, closes his eyes briefly in dismayed irritation at Heckyl’s request. They can’t stop much more. They’re already moving slower than ideal and he’s all too aware that while his own ancestry protects him, his companion’s health is in danger.

“I said, stop. Are you deaf?”

The wearier and more ill Heckyl becomes, the snappier and ruder he gets. Loki likes him a lot: they have a great deal in common, not least the many darknesses in their pasts, but by the Norns the man is cantankerous. Regardless, Loki will not see his valued companion die under such circumstances, not if he can be hassled and goaded into surviving.

“No and no,” Loki says. “Keep moving. The only thing that needs to stop is your whining.”

Heckyl snarls a stream of elaborate and vicious insults back at him, but they’re still moving and right now that’s all Loki is interested in.

However, the next time they hit a vent chamber and the two of them have just enough room to sit side by side, Loki is forced to reconsider. He looks at Heckyl in the dim light, sees the stressed breathing, the constant shivering, the discoloured evidence of skin beginning to freeze. If he keeps on like this he’ll pass out, get stuck in the tunnel, and Loki will have a terrible time moving his body.

“We’ll rest here.”

Heckyl doesn’t acknowledge this. His eyes are open, staring at the exit shaft on the far wall, as if already assessing his ability to squeeze through it and continue.

“Go to sleep,” Loki orders. “I’ll go ahead, come back for you. We may be closer than we think to the exit, it’ll help to know.”

“I’ll freeze.”

“You’re half frozen already,” counters Loki, not trying to be unkind, but equally feeling that mindless optimism has no place in this current discussion.

“Then I’ll be completely frozen. Is that what you want? A giant, me-shaped icicle? I knew you hated me, I just had no idea how much until now. Well, thank you. Thank you so much.”

Another thing about Heckyl is that as his stress levels rise, his maturity levels often drop. Loki tries not to smile. He really shouldn’t find it that endearing. Truth be told, he’s been nursing a growing attraction to the man since he first met him, and even the most difficult of circumstances (added to the undoubted difficulty of Heckyl’s personality) don’t seem to be breaking him of it. What to do? He has no idea if Heckyl is even interested, although it has to be said that he’s a terribly obvious flirt: will attempt to charm or verbally seduce anything on first meeting if he sees a benefit in it. It’s rather attractive, if Loki’s being honest.

Of course, all of this becomes academic if Heckyl succumbs to the cold right here, which is something Loki finds himself very unwilling to let happen.

“Come here,” he says, deliberately making himself sound as bored as possible with the whole situation. It’s not like come here involves a lot of work. They’re practically shoved up against each other as it is in the tiny space. But Heckyl is pissed off to the point of childish, and is therefore doing his best to be as far away from Loki as is possible, huddling into the rough wall, face turned away, and additionally doing the best sulking using just his shoulders that Loki has ever seen. Loki has to severely discipline himself to not find it hopelessly adorable. The man needs saving. Dote over him like a teenage girl later.

“You’re a fool and I will not see you turn into a - what was it? - Heckyl-shaped icicle. Come here and stop acting like an...an infant.”

“You’re freezing as well,” Heckyl complains, somewhat muffled. “I’m not touching you. I’ll get frostbite.”

“You already have fr - “

“I know!”

Loki exhales in exasperation, shifts over, and without further discussion just grabs Heckyl around the waist, drags him away from the wall and pulls him in instead against his body. As it happens, Heckyl’s not wrong about one thing: Loki is definitely cold. But there’s living, soft cold and there’s dead, abrasive cold, and of the two, living is better.

Heckyl bitches immediately and loudly at being so crassly handled. This, Loki takes as a good sign, because he who has enough energy to bitch has enough energy to live. And, as he’d half-expected, Heckyl’s resistance lasts about as long as it takes him to realise that Loki (while yes, cold) is actually a good deal warmer than the permafrozen rocks. He stops his antagonistic wriggling, at least. His complaining lasts a lot longer, but eventually that too subsides as he starts to warm up, even if only a little, cradled into Loki’s lap with Loki’s arms wrapped around him.

Loki knows he’s won when after having gone almost a full minute without snarking, Heckyl gives a little sigh and lets his head drop against his shoulder, the topmost blue streaks of his hair just brushing Loki’s jaw.

“Rest,” Loki murmurs, more to himself than to Heckyl, whom he suspects from the laxity of muscle and pattern of breathing is already asleep. “We don’t have long.”

As it turns out, it only takes them a further hour to finally reach the exterior vent, and crawl out into the mercifully temperate planet surface, where Heckyl goes through a further period of grumbling as he defrosts enough to make walking possible. Then they successfully escape, because they’re a wily pair and there’s probably not a locked room anywhere that can hold them for long. Individually they’re smart as angels: together they’re completely diabolical.

And it’s this innate devilishness at their hearts that means they end up on the run time after time, in jungles one week and in deserts the next - from planets where the atmosphere is full of water, to tiny pocket universes without shrimp. Staying out of trouble isn’t something that comes naturally to either of them, and now working together their ability to get into scrapes is at least doubled, if not tripled. This is really nothing to Loki, who thrives on chaos, and of course there’s that one small extra that makes any of the additional mayhem completely worthwhile, in his view.

Because ever since the frigidarium tunnels on Iobreon, Heckyl seems to have decided that anytime they’re going to be sharing close quarters, it’s now his unassailable right to use Loki as a pillow. Or a mattress. Or possibly a blanket. Either way, whenever they feel secure enough to stop and rest, Heckyl immediately turns, climbs into Loki’s lap like a spoilt, entitled cat and proceeds to curl himself up with his head resting trustingly on Loki’s shoulder, falling asleep almost instantly. The sensation of being trusted so completely is rather overwhelming for the lord of lies.

Yes, I’m definitely in trouble, Loki thinks, when Heckyl has colonized him once again as they hide out in a cave behind a waterfall overnight, but this is the best kind of trouble to be in.   

[etcwrites]

Are you out there, babe?

Hello @headcanonsfromanasexualpirate ^^ This is etc. You are my giftee for @klance-exchange . I wanted to post from my writing blog, hope that’s okay and won’t create any confusion.

Anyway...

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I hope you like your gift :)

Klance Holiday Exchange

Prompt: Modern au, where Keith works at a nightclub. Lance is struggling with his sexuality and goes with some sleazy (or not) friends to a nightclub, but it makes things worse.+ Canon divergence where Lotor is making the moves on Keith, but Lance is uncomfortable with it.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: 

Lance was curious. Yes!  He was interested. Maybe...  He was ready. Nope, not by a long shot!

But what’s a man supposed to do when a hot singer with cool eyes and a mullet walks on stage?...

AO3 Link

--1--

"This is...this is a gay bar!"

"You've asked for it, Lover boy"

"I- WHAT? No, no, nonono!  I did not ask for this! I said I wanted a fun night out. A fun night! With ladies and drinks and- what even made you think- "    

Lotor gave Lance an extremely knowing look, superiority oozing from his stupidly elegant face.

"Ok, I would like this to be included in the record. You are EVIL! Where do I sign to excommunicate you from friendship? Or maybe I should get an exorcist..."

Lotor looked bored this time, his attention diverted to watching the crowd.  "You are curious, yes?" he murmured.

Lance's throat closed with sudden panic, heart leaping in his chest.  "No,that's-" he started, only to abort at the look that Lotor gave him.

"Try to see this as an opportunity, you can see them and-" sliding his fingers through Lance's hair, Lotor pulled on the short hairs at his nape. "-they can see you."

Lance swallowed nervously, tongue peeking out to lick his dry lips, wide eyes turning to watch the crowd. "This is not fair..." he grumbled.

Lotor let his fingers loose, briefly caressing down Lance's neck and pulling back. "Life-"

"Don't you dare say 'life is not fair'!"

Lotor gave him a dirty conceited smirk.

Fucking asshole...

"Besides don't you have a boyfriend? What are you doing coming to - sorry- dragging me into a gay bar?"

Lotor turned his head away, eyes searching the crowd but never lingering. "Upon your request, we are here to have fun and... Kolivan knows his place"

"...that sounds so wrong on so many levels."

An amused huff, then taking a sip from his drink he fixed his gaze on Lance. "Instead of questioning my relationship choices, may I propose an alternative?"

Lance narrowed his eyes, distrust signaling red in his mind. "Let's hear it then, evil incarnate"

Undisturbed, Lotor took another sip from his drink, then leaning back against the bar, reached up and opened a button on Lance's shirt.

"Hey!"

"Why don't you try looking around...and seeing if you are interested in anyone?"

Lance gulped in sudden nervous energy, his throat turning dry with the suggestive nature of Lotor's voice.

He could though, right? He could look. That was allowed...

Slowly he turned his gaze towards the crowd, eyes lingering across pink lips, broad shoulders, suggestive smirks-

Nope, non, nada… not happening!

His stomach burned with nervous energy, palms growing sweaty and mind screaming at him. Trying to calm down Lance took a deep breath.

Shit...this was so incredibly different from a night out at a straight bar. But could he really-

By this point Lotor must have realized his panic because a moment later he had leaned into his space. "Oh c'mon Alvarez, I distinctly remember you saying how you were the one and only flirt master."

Lance turned his wide eyes towards him to catch the conceited smirk.

"Or was that all a lie?"

Unannounced, indignation spiked in Lance, the feeling burning bright and hot under his skin. "Of course not! I am the flirt master!"

"Then-" Lotor shrugged, leaning back against the counter. "this should be easy for you."

Right...right... He was the flirt master... He was the charmer, the entertainer, the Lover boy! He could do this!

--2--

He could not do this! He could not!

His heart beat in its cage, the feeling of confinement, of being trapped closing around his throat. Every time he had tried to even look at someone, his brain had screamed at him (wrong!wrong!wrong!), throat turning dry and muscles growing tense.

The night was turning into a fucking disaster, a horrible horrible trainwreck... and it was all Lotor's fault!

"Ughh!" Lance leaned against the bar, rubbing his face in frustration. "I blame you! This is hopeless!" Turning his head, he leaned his cheek against his palm  "maybe...maybe I've got this wrong. Maybe I was never attracted to men. That happens, right? "

"Lance," Lotor deadpanned. "You told me you wanted dick in your-"

"Ooookay! Gonna stop you right there!"

Lotor raised an eyebrow.

"Ok fine, but you know maybe that was metaphorical..."

An unimpressed look.

"Rhetorical?..."

Still that look...

"Look I was drunk!"

Lotor huffed, exasperation clear in the lines of his lips. "Are you saying you are not attracted to men?"

Ah...the million dollar question...

Lance bit into his lip, insecurity churning down his stomach. "I...I don't-" he murmured, fingers nervously accumulating the moisture around the forgotten beer glass on the counter. "It is just- I don't know ... I feel...."

He still felt the excitement, still appreciated a beautiful body, the shape of a smile, the confident way someone would handle themselves. And he still felt the desire burning down his spine, just like he did with women.

Only-

"I mean isn't it-" he continued on rambling. "I just- whenever I try to approach someone I get this feeling- this-this..."

Wrong...

But Lance couldn't say it.

Lotor's eyes narrowed, mouth opening to reply, only to be buried.

The sound of a guitar cord filled the bar, resonating deep in their ribcages and beckoning attention. A second later, the stage lights became alive, illuminating a small group of individuals.

Combat boots, tight black pants and leather jacket stepped on the stage, fingers curling around a microphone. Dark cool eyes regarded the crowd, messy hair framing a sullen face. "Welcome"

And just like that... Lance was in space.

He gasped, mouth falling open and eyes getting glued to the stage. His insides churned with excitement, mind unable to comprehend the sight.

Another tune from the guitar was given, someone counting in a whisper before the song started with perfect energy, a smoky voice filling the bar.

Heart beating erratically in his chest Lance nervously licked his lips.

Who the hell was that guy?!

Beside him Lotor smirked, possibly confident that Lance won’t be able to hear his words. "Now that's what I'd call; irresistible calling."

Ok, let Lance say it one more time, for the people in the back

Fucking asshole.

--3--

The guy was hot...  There was no other way of putting it.

Ok, maybe there was SOME other way of putting it... like... beyond hot or sexy as hell or alluring dark pretty boy or…

PerfectTM...

Lance sighed.

Across the dark bar, the stage was perfectly illuminated, the light showering the singer from a single point, caressing the contours of his face, glinting on various earrings at his outer ear and most certainly, definitely demanding attention to those perfect lips.

An uncontrollable shiver ran down Lance’s spine, breath turning tight with desire. He ran his fingertips across his lips, eyes still glued to the stage. Beside him he was vaguely aware of Lotor giving him the side eye but really Lance couldn’t bring himself to care.

On some level, it felt wrong to stare, to want... but there was no use in denying...

Lance was star struck.

The guy looked incredible after all, fingers curled loosely around the microphone and lips ghosting right at the edge. The distant look on his face draw in Lance's attention, captivating as his gaze flickered from those lips to the eyes and back again. But all was secondary to his voice.

He had such a soulful tone, reaching deep inside Lance and immediately curling inside his mind, carving a space for itself. He felt frozen in time, every vital function in his body going on standby as his senses found a single focal point, and latched on to it with an undeniable need.

Hook, line and sinker...

With a change in the rhythm, the song slowly uncurled, letting off and almost turning bitter. The singer's voice accompanied the change, the pitch perfectly matching the melody.

Lance's lungs actually decided to fail on the spot, breath hitching and getting stuck at his throat, and as the song ended with one last solemn note he could  finally swallow, feeling as if he was allowed to breathe.

As soon as the final note finished resonating, a loud applause filled the bar complete with a few cat calls and joyous exclamations from the audience. Pulling away from the mic, the singer ran his fingers through his hair, causing a mini heart attack to wreck through Lance and rendering him speechless for a few seconds.

“Thank you" the pretty boy murmured, eyes regarding the applauding crowd coolly. "We were the Blades" A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, giving his face a youthful look.

Which was entirely unacceptable because Lance certainly needed more than that glimpse!

However, with a small nod, the guy hopped off stage, his band mates following him and the lights on the stage dying once again.

Unable to contain himself Lance turned to Lotor. "What was that?!”

His companion shrugged, almost finished with his drink. "I wasn't aware of a one song show." Then turning his head he looked over to the singer, taking Lance's eyes with him. "I can't say I am familiar with him or any of the staff. It has been a while since I visited this bar"

Lance didn't even blink, eyes tracing the singer as he moved across the crowd, finally vanishing from a personnel only door. "How is that possible?" He teased, eyes finally focusing on Lotor. "You love bars"

Lotor smirked. "I do love bars," he accepted, tone entirely too pleased. "Though I like mine with a bit more...adult content"

Lance scowled, sudden indignation curling around his heart as his hands settled over his hips. "What are you saying? Am I not adult content?! I'll have you know in some circles I've been known as the Tailor! Cool and smooth" He mimicked riding a wave with his hands.

Lotor looked only inches away from laughing himself to death. "Alright, Tailor" he said, amusement painfully clear in his tone. "Then why don't we see that smooth talk?" With a flick of his head Lotor called his attention to the bar. "This must be your lucky day"

Turning towards the place Lotor gestured, Lance's heart leaped up, impacting painfully at his throat.

The alluring pretty boy was back, only now he was behind the bar with a simple tight black t-shirt and earrings flickering with the lights. Damn..this guy was going to be the death of him..

"Apparently he doesn't only work as a singer."

Lance swallowed against his dry mouth, fingers curling and uncurling.

"So...Tailor," Lotor teased. "Aren't you going to smooth talk him?"

"Yes..."

Lance suddenly startled, his mind finally coming alive. "Uhhhh- I mean... I mean no...I don't think-"

“You don't think, what?"

“I mean- uh...." Heat creeped under Lance's neck. "Maybe he isn’t interested in, you know...”

“He works in a gay bar, Lance. I'm positive he will be at least open-minded, if not interested.”

Lance could only gulp with nervousness, however Lotor concluded without waiting for him.

"Objectively the worst possibility is rejection.”

"Yeah?! That's good to know… Is that supposed to reassure me?!"

For a few seconds exasperation settled across Lotor's face, lips parting to possibly give a posh and all knowing lecture before suddenly stopping.

Lance felt a sudden chill ran down his spine, feeling like a mouse trapped by a very very large cat.

However surprisingly Lotor only leaned back. Eyes momentarily grazing the empty glass in his hands, he shrugged elegantly. "Suit yourself Alvarez." Then pushing of the bar, he slightly raised his empty glass. "I'm going to get another glass, and since you are not planning on talking to the sexy singer, I'm sure you won't mind if I take my chances, yes?"

"What?!"

Lotor briefly raised his shoulders, this time smugness evident in every line of his stupid body. "He is pretty, almost alluring...” he confessed.  “Clear skin, big expressive eyes, unruly dark hair...” he pointed out each feature as if they were options on a menu. Then with a suspiciously pleasant face he continued. “I am positive that hair would be perfect for pulling when he takes my-"

"Ok! Stop!"

Lotor gave him a dirty smile. "Why, Alvarez?"

Sudden jealousy burned deep in Lance, heat rising to his head fast and vicious. He wanted to hide the other man from Lotor's sight, he wanted to punch the evil bastard right in the eye!

He wanted to see all of those fantasies...

Heat burned deep in Lance’s stomach, slowly curling and spreading up his chest. He had to confess...

He wanted to watch the guy with his head thrown back, mouth open as he panted, those lips looking shiny and red, pale skin glinting with a thin sheet of sweat...

A shudder wrecked through him, throat going dry in only a matter of seconds. Without registering he gave a dark scowl at Lotor, an accusing finger pointing at him.

"Hey! You already have a boyfriend! So, no, you are not going to seduce him!"  Taking a few steps forward he pushed his finger right on Lotor’s chest. "Don't. move."

Then ignoring the stupid pleased smirk on the other’s face, he turned his back and stalked towards the bar.

He wasn't going to let Lotor charm the other man!

No! He was going to get him for himself!

--4--

So… Lance actually had a plan.

He was going to go over to the bar, he was going to lean against it, raise his fingers all cool and charismatic and hit the guy with the most perfect pants dropping line! Bam! Razzle and dazzle!

"Heeeyyy,”

The guy raised his head, giving Lance a quick glance before continuing on stacking bottles. “Yes, what can I get you?”

Yourself... Lance wanted to say, his mind going blank with the sudden encounter. You can get me yourself.

But that wasn’t the plan. The plan was.... right! It was-

“You know...” he murmured, tone turning suggestive even as he wrecked his mind for a good line. “I’m- I’m looking for treasure. Can I look around your chest?”

What?!

"…What?"

Ok…that wasn't what Lance had been aiming for. That was so far off that you had to have binoculars and a night vision to even get a glimpse of the freaking thing!

And now, Lance wanted to shoot himself.

An embarrassed blush settled across his cheeks. “Uhhh…never mind. I- uh- I’ll just have a beer"

The other gave him an unimpressed look, brows rising slightly while a hand reached down to get a beer with practiced ease.

“That will be-"

Lance gave him the money without even waiting for the full sentence. He just wanted to have his beer (maybe five) and drink until he no longer had to remember his stupid mistake.

Why was he this bad at being into men?!...

And this guy… He had actually felt something more than appreciation for him…but wasn't it just like him to screw it up?…

The guy took the money from his fingers then unexpectedly leaned over the counter.

“Was that really a serious line?”

Lance raised his head sharply, eyes linking with the other's dark ones. “Uh…” he stumbled, mind yet again drawing an embarrassing blank. “It was bad, I know…”

“No…it wasn't bad.”

Lance perked up, brows rising in surprise.

“It was horrendous but-"

Lance screwed his face, long fingers shaking in a clear denial.

“No, stop, please…I am aware of my utter incompetence, don't need pity as well.”

“Ok...”

A brief pause-

“It wasn't the worst though. I’ve heard worse come-ons"

Lance dragged himself up, eyes narrowing as curiosity and suspicion made a place in his gut. “Really?...” he asked, voice going high and stretching the word. “How could it be worse than my misgendered attempt?”

The guy shrugged with ease, a calm look settling over his face. “You didn't offer to take me to a new world, or fuck me until I can't scream your name or give something more enjoyable to do with my mouth…”

Lance gulped, a new kind of blush settling over his cheeks. “hahaha…right.”

The guy gave him a serious look, before that private smile Lance had noticed on stage showed itself at the corner of his lip, a mischievous shine settling in his eyes.

“Hey!” Lance exclaimed, indignant but slowly loosing his resolve when faced with that small smile. “I don't need that attitude, mullet!”

The other raised his brows, smile gone. “Mullet?...”

“Yeah, well. It's not like I know your name, right?! You guys don't have name tags either! How am I supposed to-”

“…It's Keith"

Lance halted, his voice completely cut off.

“oh…”

Keith gave him an expectant look or at least that was how Lance wanted to interpret it.

“Uhhh…” with a cough Lance cleared his throat, hoping he sounded cool. “I'm Lance…”

Keith only gave him a brief nod. Then sneaking a glance at his right screwed his face. “Hope you weren't depending on him for a ride home.”

Surprised Lance followed his gaze, eyes immediately noticing the way Lotor was leaning against the counter, fingers trailing up and down a –

Hot damn!

Lance's eyes opened wide at seeing the man Lotor was so shamelessly flirting with, for a few seconds his mind showing a blue screen.

The guy was positively gorgeous, with a body that looked as if sculptured, stylish tuff of white hair falling to his eyes and an easy calming smile settled over his lips. No doubt Lotor was shamelessly all over him.

But no matter the hotness level, the sight sort of felt detached, not like-

Well, not like Keith…

“Seriously…” Lance grumbled, a scowl settling over his face. “the worst friend ever to exist!”

“Friend?” Keith asked, an adorable frown creasing between his eyebrows. “I thought-" Then suddenly cutting himself off, he looked away.

Was that-was that a blush?!

Lance gave him a confused but curious look, his heart racing for no reason other than seeing a blush on Keith's face. “You thought what?”

Keith shook his head, dismissing the question. “Never mind" he murmured, gaze flickering towards the gorgeous man and Lotor once again. “I can't believe Shiro is skipping off work to flirt"

Lance followed his gaze and took a deep sip from his beer. “Why? Surely he is allowed a break"

“...He is supposed to be the responsible one!”

Faced with the expectant look on Lance's face he continued.

“uh…as the elder brother I mean"

Lance felt his brows rise. “He is your brother?!”  Was all men in this family hot?!

“Foster brother..” Keith murmured, his tone turning withdrawn and immediately capturing Lance's attention.

“ah…” Lance sighed, for a second his mind focusing on his large family. He couldn't really imagine a life without them, surrounding, supporting, bickering... “Do you get along? He seems nice."

Keith looked back at Shiro, expression turning soft. “Yeah…he is.”

Now, Lance couldn’t help his smile. “I’m glad,” he said, fingers tightening around his bottle.

A second later, their eyes met silently, the moment turning private and staying suspended. Lance felt his heart pitter patter inside its cage, an indescribable warmth blossoming.

Then-

“Hey! Bartender! C’mon darling, I need sustenance for my boys here!”

Both of them startled at the voice, gazes turning to focus on a man leaning against the bar, clad in an ambitious combination of fur and leather and –

Lance almost grimaced. That wasn’t how you did make up...

“Yeah!” Keith replied, giving Lance a brief look before moving away to take the order.

Sighing Lance turned his back towards the counter and forced himself not to watch Keith obsessively. That wasn’t going to land him any points, especially not after that flirting fiasco. Instead he chose to watch the crowd, gaze soon locating Lotor, now chatting with a tall guy, complete with broad shoulders and piercing eyes.

And he looked familiar too...

Lance's eyes narrowed. But where could he have seen him? And what was wrong with Lotor?! Flirting with each and every guy-

Oh, there was another one, also tall, broad and looking kinda dangerous, but then again so was Kolivan and Lance had never seen him get mad when Lotor pushed him.

“Your friend seems popular”

Lance didn’t jump but it was a close thing. “God!” Turning he gave Keith a hurt look. “Seriously?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”

Then for a second Lance forgot his name, because the other man had the most pleased mischievous smile he had ever seen.

“It’s not my fault that you have zero awareness of your surroundings.”

“Huh!” Lance raised one of his fingers as a way of accusation. “I’ll have you know I have the record for the fastest hidden target acquisition in the entire Alvarez family history.”

“Yeah?” Keith questioned, brows raised in amusement. “And who else participated in this ‘acquisition’?”

Lance did not pout but it was a close thing. “My …nephews and nieces.”

This time there was a huff from Keith, complete with Lance’s protesting exclamation.

“Hey! I’ll have you know, 7 year olds are very worthy opponents when it comes to finding a box of chocolate.”

Keith gave him a look, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Cut throat competition! Highly motivated!...”

“I’m sure.”

At last Lance grinned at him, a giggle escaping at seeing that teasing smirk on Keith's face. “So...” he murmured, leaning over the counter and changing the subject. With his head he indicated towards the other side of the bar where a rowdy colorful group of men were toasting with enthusiasm.  “Got everything he needed to keep his ‘boys’ happy.”

After a brief glance in that direction Keith turned to him. “Jessie is okay, he sometimes gets too enthusiastic, always comes with a different group and never actually remembers my name but he is...decent.”

At the loud exclamation from the group Lance huffed, leaning closer to Keith as if to lend him a secret. “You know,” he murmured.  “You can't use that eyeliner with that shade and really expect to be taken seriously”

Up close, Keith looked surprised, eyes growing wide and lips openning slightly.

With sudden awkwardness Lance blushed, heat invading his face. Heart beating nervously as he pulled back. What had he actually said?! He wasn't supposed to-

“I’m not gay!”

For a second, Keith’s eyebrows rose higher, confusion passing through his eyes before a cool look slowly settled over his face. “Well...I am.”

“You-" Lance coughed. “Uhhhhh- Ok, yes. That's- that's cool, that's fine.”

“I know it is fine.” Halting he crossed his arms over his chest, biceps killing Lance in that tight t-shirt. “You realize you are in a gay bar, right?”

Lance’s voice got higher again, wounded pride showing itself. “Yes, of course I know that! I just meant I am not ...entirely gay"

“....”

“I mean-" Sudden nervousness left Lance choking. “…I don't know yet, but I- I might be... bisexual?”

Keith regarded him with a neutral expression, his voice extremely calm when he replied.

“Ok"

Lance gave him a look. “Just ok?! C'mon man, I poured my heart to you here!”

An amused smile, then Keith shrugged. Actually shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal!

“I don't mind.”

“You don't-" Lance had planned for a higher tone, an exclamation of disbelief combined with a touch of mock indignation.

He missed the target…

“You don't really mind?...”

For a brief moment a soft look shone in Keith's eyes, not pity but understanding making a place for itself, then it was all cool eyes and a teasing smirk.

“Why should I care about to whom you are attracted to, Alvarez?”

Lance screwed his face. “Thanks, mullet. For that comment you owe me another bottle on the house.” With the tip of his fingers Lance dangled the bottle in front of Keith. “Now, chop chop!”

Keith gave him a murderous scowl, his good humor vanishing entirely. Even with the scowl, he didn't complain when pulling the bottle from Lance's hand, fingers brushing and sending a jolt of excitement down his nerves.

“You are lucky you are pretty"

“What?” Lance squeaked, heart jumping up to his throat.

Keith gave him a neutral cool look. “I said you are lucky you are pretty, otherwise I would have got Hunk to throw you out by now"

“You-" Lance hoped he wasn't blushing. Never mind who ever Hunk was, Keith had actually called him pretty!... Forcing on a flirty smile Lance leaned closer to the other man. “So, you think I am pretty?”

Keith raised his brows and reached down to get him another beer. “That wasn't the important part of the sentence.”

Lance winked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

For a few seconds they looked at each other, a massive sleazy smile on Lance's face and a deadpan look on Keith's, before Lance pulled back with a huff.

“Fine!” he grumbled. “But, mark my words! Soon, mullet you'll realize the vitality of this beauty" With his hands Lance gestured from the top of his head down to his chest. “They don't call me ‘Lover boy' for nothing!”

Keith chortled, his breath getting stuck in amusement. “Lover boy?!” An uncontrollable laugh fell from his lips.

If it wasn't offensive to the sacred nature of Lance's reputation, he might have been weak against that adorable laugh but alas! It was about Lance's pride!

“Hey!”

Keith continued to laugh, eyes growing misty even as the look in his eyes changed into something… fond.

“You can't be serious!” Keith wheezed, “That is your nickname?!”

Fond or not, Lance wasn't going to accept such words. No, it was time to retaliate!

“What? So you think you have it better huh, mullet? The Blades?! Really?”

With a snicker Lance leaned to the side. “Had all the other bands already got the edgier names? The forks, or perhaps the spoons?”

This time, Keith was the one to frown, something childish and indignant settling over his frame as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It was my childhood dream, alright?!”

Childhood dream? That's-

Kinda cute...

Lance raised his hands up, palms open towards Keith and a soft smile settling over his lips. “Ok...ok...” he huffed in amusement. “I guess it fits with the whole –“ He gestured with his hands across Keith's body. “ Leather and metal combination.”

Keith looked down his body before giving a speculative glance at Lance as if he wasn't still sure if the other was teasing him.

Lance rewarded him with a knowing smirk, entirely enjoying the confused look on the man's face.

“Keith!”

Both of them turned towards the voice only to see Shiro with a giant beer case. Immediately Keith bolted, eyes briefly linking with Lance's before turning on his brother.

“Yeah!”

With a sigh Lance watched as Keith took the case from Shiro, biceps straining and body tilting back to adjust to the weight. Wouldn't it be great if Lance had those arms around his waist? Those hands across his chest?... and that voice whispering-

“Still here?”

With a start Lance turned back, hand clutching over his heart. This got to stop!

At his right Lotor had an annoying smirk on his face.

“Lotor!” he hissed, heart still beating erratically in his chest. “What the hell?! You scared the shit out of me.”

Instead of apologizing like a normal human being, Lotor ignored him to watch Keith and Shiro with a calculative look in his eyes. Pervert…

“Hey,” Lance exclaimed physically obscuring his view. “evil incarnate! No looking, no seducing, remember?! Erase all thoughts about him.”

Lotor huffed in a weirdly elegant way.

Lance sometimes hated his stupid handsome ass.

“Relax...” he drawled, leaning back. “Singers or artists in general, do not hold my interest. Too much drama for my taste.”

Lance screwed his face, not believing him for a second. “Yeah, right!”

A raised eyebrow and a deadpan look later, Lotor straightened his shoulders. “You must have realized by now that I am actually going for the elder brother"

Lance's eyes narrowed. “Does he know that you have a boyfriend?”

Lotor smiled…in an evil way.

“No-no-no! You are not leading on Keith's brother so that you can have some fun!”

“And hinder your chances with your singer boyfriend"

“Exactly!”

Lotor smirked. “Calm down, Alvarez.” Then leaning of the counter he gave Lance a wink. “Shiro is a consenting adult with an open-mind"

What?!...

Then with a final look at the brothers he turned to go back. “You on the other hand, need to step up your game"

Fuck off! That was what Lance wanted to say but before he could attempt, Lotor was already half way across the bar, leaning over the counter and possibly trying to get free drinks from Shiro through shameless flirting.

Bastard....

“What is that look?”

Lance looked to his left, eyes opening wide to find Keith beside him.

“Lotor...” he confessed voice conveying his displeasure.

“Your friend?” Keith questioned, tracing Lance's eyes to land on Lotor's tall figure.

“Yeah…”

“He seems interested in Shiro.”

“Yeah, well he is an attractive sleaze bag with perfect hair so warn your brother, yes?”

Keith almost laughed. “Don't worry, your friend isn't the first to flirt with Shiro.”

Lance gave him a look but a second later had to shrug it off.

“Let's change the subject! I don't wanna talk about Lotor or your brother”

Keith smirked. “Me neither. What else do you want to talk about?”

Lance grinned at him. “Your band?”

Keith frowned adorably. “Are you going to make fun of its name again?!”

After an amused but soft huff, he gave Keith his most winning smile. “No, never!” He raised his hand. “Scout's honor"

Keith's eyes narrowed. “Why do I get the feeling that you were never a scout?”

Lance chuckled, then with a shrug turned towards Keith entirely. “You are too suspicious for your own good!”

“Yeah? Well, it has worked for me so far.”

With a small hum, Lance tilted his head.

“But seriously…” he confessed, unable to keep it in any longer. His voice turned softer without conscious effort.  “Your voice… it is incredible. I don't think I've heard anything that captivated my attention so quickly. It was… it was like magic!”

A beautiful blush spread over Keith's cheeks, eyes shifting from Lance's face to the side.

Taking a shaky breath Lance felt a similar heat rising from his neck, slowly creeping up and soon capturing each cell.

“Do you really-"

“Yes!”

Keith turned to him suddenly, something undefinable shining in his eyes.

“It was really amazing. To be sincere I didn't get why you guys only played one song"

“It's the rule of the bar…”

“Such a shame"

“We perform at another place on Thursdays!” Keith suddenly blurted, promptly a blush spreading over his cheeks. “You can come and watch us there!” Then with a jerk he pulled back. “I mean...if - if you are interested.”

A giddy feeling burst inside Lance, breath getting caught at his throat. “Oh...yes, YES I’m interested. You have no idea!”

A loaded silence fell between them, mortification sending a cold bucket of water down Lance's back. Shit...maybe that had been too enthusiastic… he really was hopeless…

But when he looked up there was a weird small smile on Keith's face. Leaning over the counter he opened up his hand with the universal sign for asking.

Oh…

So maybe… he wasn't that hopeless.

Lance smiled softly.

--5--

Lance strolled back with a new energy seeped into his steps and a little swagger etched into his frame. A cocky smile had settled lazily on his lips and by the time he got back to Lotor's side, smugness was evident on his face.

“Heyy! What did I tell you?! The Tailor!” With uplifting energy and a giant smile, Lance pointed to his chest with his thumbs.

With Shiro already back at the storage room, the other man once again looked bored.

“Is that so? And where is your proof, Lover boy?”

Lance swiftly opened up his phone before proudly displaying an address written on an electronic note pad.

“You've already got an address?!... Color me impressed, Alvarez. Congratulations on your booty call.”

“What?! No, it is not an address like that! Pervert! No, it is the name of the bar they regularly play at. Nothing dirty!”

Lotor looked down at the note again, fingertips elegantly turning the phone towards himself. A cool look settled over his face.

“Nothing dirty, hmm? You realize that the ‘bar’ is in the strip joint, yes?”

“WHAT?!”

Lotor smirked, amusement seeping from his voice. “You are too easy.”

“Evil...” Lance pouted then eyes catching the sight of Keith, blushed with satisfaction. The tight coil at his stomach heated up pleasantly.

“Thanks..” he murmured, voice soft as his eyes turned back to look at Lotor.

The other man’s smirk got softer but when he shrugged it was distant and nonchalant. “I had nothing better to do this evening"

Lance snickered at his response, only giving half of his attention to him as his eyes were once again called towards Keith.

He had a soft smile on his face as he listened to Shiro, gaze for a brief second linking with Lance's and the smile pleasantly turning wider. Unable to resist it, Lance’s stomach jumped into the air, successfully completing a somersault.

And even though he couldn't really say that he had everything figured out, Lance wanted to see this as a start.

If not for his undeniable and embarrassing attraction, then for solely the purpose of being stubborn, Lance wasn't going to lose!

[stronghealthtoday]

How can I do a low carb diet?

Low-carb counts calories have been famous for a considerable length of time.

They used to be exceptionally dubious however have as of late picked up standard acknowledgment.

Low-carb abstains from food will in general cause more weight reduction than low-fat slims down — at any rate for the time being.

They likewise improve various wellbeing markers, for example, blood triglycerides, HDL (great) cholesterol, glucose, and pulse.

In any case, numerous sorts of this eating design exist.

Here are the ways to do low carb diet:1. Zero-Carb

A few people want to take out all carbs from their eating routine.

This is known as a zero-carb diet and for the most part incorporates just creature foods.

Individuals who pursue a zero-carb diet eat meat, fish, eggs, and creature fats like margarine and grease. Some of them likewise include salt and flavors.

There are no ongoing investigations that show a zero-carb diet to be protected. Just one contextual analysis — from 1930 — exists, in which two men ate only meat and organs for a year yet seemed to stay healthy.

A zero-carb diet is inadequate in some significant supplements, for example, nutrient C and fiber. Hence, it is by and large not suggested.

Synopsis

A few people pursue a zero-carb diet, which prohibits all plant foods. No quality investigations have been done on this eating example, and it is generally disheartened.

2. Eco-Atkins

An eating regimen named Eco-Atkins is basically a vegetarian form of the Atkins diet.

It incorporates plant foods and fixings that are high in protein or potentially fat, for example, gluten, soy, nuts, and plant oils.

About 25% of its calories originate from carbs, 30% from protein, and 45% from fat.

Thusly, it’s higher in carbs than a run of the mill Atkins diet — yet at the same time a lot of lower than an average veggie lover diet.

One six-month study indicated that an Eco-Atkins diet caused more weight reduction and more prominent improvement in coronary illness chance factors than a high-carb veggie lover diet.

Synopsis

The Eco-Atkins diet is a vegetarian rendition of the Atkins diet. While higher in carbs than a commonplace Atkins diet, it’s still extremely low-carb contrasted with most veggie lover and vegetarian eats less carbs.

3. Low-Carb Mediterranean Diet

The Mediterranean eating routine is exceptionally well known, particularly among wellbeing experts.

It depends on the conventional foods of Mediterranean nations prior in the twentieth century.

Studies show that this eating regimen may help avert coronary illness, bosom malignancy, and type 2 diabetes.

A low-carb Mediterranean eating design is designed according to its namesake diet however confines higher-carb foods like entire grains.

Not at all like a standard low-carb diet, it accentuates increasingly greasy fish rather than red meat and all the more additional virgin olive oil rather than fats like spread.

A low-carb Mediterranean diet might be preferred for coronary illness avoidance over other low-carb counts calories, in spite of the fact that this should be affirmed in thinks about.

Synopsis

A low-carb Mediterranean diet is like a customary low-carb diet. Be that as it may, it incorporates more fish and additional virgin olive oil.

4. A Typical Low-Carb Diet

The normal low-carb diet doesn’t have a fixed definition.

It is just alluded to as a low-carb or carb-limited eating regimen.

This eating design will in general be lower in carbs and higher in protein than a common Western eating regimen. It as a rule accentuates meats, fish, eggs, nuts, seeds, vegetables, natural products, and solid fats.

You’re intended to limit your admission of high-carb foods like grains, potatoes, sugary beverages, and high-sugar lousy foods.

The prescribed carb consumption every day by and large relies upon your objectives and inclinations. A typical rubric may be something like this:

100–150 grams. This range is intended for weight upkeep or continuous high-force work out. It gives space for a lot of leafy foods some boring foods like potatoes.

50–100 grams. This range is proposed for gradual weight reduction or weight upkeep. There’s space for a lot of vegetables and natural product.

Under 50 grams. This is designed for quick weight reduction. Eat a lot of vegetables yet limit natural product admission to berries low on the glycemic list (GI).

Synopsis

Your run of the mill low-carb diet is a lot of lower in carbs and higher in protein than a customary eating regimen. The prescribed carb consumption relies upon singular objectives and inclinations.

5. Ketogenic Diet

The ketogenic diet is a low-carb, high-fat eating routine.

The objective of a keto diet is to keep carbs so low that your body goes into a metabolic state called ketosis.

In this express, your insulin levels dive and your body discharges a lot of unsaturated fats from its fat stores.

A great deal of these unsaturated fats are moved to your liver, which transforms them into ketones. Ketones are water-dissolvable atoms that can cross the blood-cerebrum boundary and supply vitality to your mind.

At that point, rather than running on carbs, your mind begins depending to a great extent on ketones. Your body can create the limited quantity of glucose still required by your mind through a procedure called gluconeogenesis.

A few adaptations of this eating routine even limit protein admission on the grounds that an excessive amount of protein may lessen the quantity of ketones you produce.

Customarily used to treat sedate safe epilepsy in youngsters, the keto diet may likewise have benefits for other neurological issue and metabolic issues like sort 2 diabetes.

It has additionally gotten mainstream for fat misfortune — even among certain muscle heads — as it’s a compelling method to lose fat and will in general reason a significant decrease in craving.

A ketogenic diet includes high-protein, high-fat foods. Carbs are commonly constrained to less than 50 — and here and there as not many as 20–30 — grams every day.

A customary keto eating design is alluded to as a standard ketogenic diet (SKD).

Notwithstanding, there are different varieties that include deliberately including carbs:

Directed ketogenic diet (TKD). In this variant, you include modest quantities of carbs around exercises.

Recurrent ketogenic diet (CKD). This sort has you eat a ketogenic diet on most days yet change to a high-carb diet for 1–2 days every week.

Synopsis

A ketogenic (keto) diet includes lessening carbs adequately to incite a metabolic state called ketosis. It’s an extremely incredible eating regimen to lose fat and may ensure against a few maladies.

Related: How to do a keto diet? Beginners guide Related: What are the best foods for a keto diet?

6. The Atkins Diet

The Atkins diet is the best-known low-carb eating plan. It includes decreasing all high-carb foods while eating as a lot of protein and fat as wanted.

The eating regimen is part into four stages:

Stage 1: Induction. Eat under 20 grams of carbs every day for about fourteen days.

Stage 2: Balancing. Gradually include increasingly nuts, low-carb vegetables, and natural product.

Stage 3: Fine-tuning. At the point when you draw near to your weight objective, include more carbs until your weight reduction turns out to be more slow.

Stage 4: Maintenance. Eat the same number of sound carbs as your body endures without recovering the weight you lost.

The Atkins diet was initially trashed, yet ebb and flow look into demonstrates it’s both protected and compelling as long as fiber admission is satisfactory. This eating regimen is as yet well known today.

Synopsis

The Atkins diet has been prominent for more than 40 years. It is a 4-stage, low-carb eating design that enables you to devour a lot of fat and protein.

7. Low-Carb, High-Fat (LCHF)

LCHF means “low-carb, high-fat.” It’s a genuinely standard low-carb diet however with a significantly more prominent accentuation on entire, natural foods.

It centers for the most part around meats, fish and shellfish, eggs, solid fats, vegetables, dairy items, nuts, and berries.

The prescribed carb consumption on this eating regimen can go from 20–100 grams for each day.

Synopsis

The LCHF diet is a low-carb eating design that spotlights for the most part on entire, natural foods.

8. Low-Carb Paleo Diet

The paleo diet is right now one of the world’s most well known methods for eating. It energizes eating foods that were likely accessible in the Paleolithic period — before the farming and mechanical transformations.

As indicated by paleo defenders, coming back to the eating routine of your ancient progenitors ought to improve wellbeing since people purportedly advanced and adjusted to eating such foods.

A few little examinations show that a paleo diet can cause weight reduction, lessen blood sugars, and improve chance factors for coronary illness.

A paleo diet isn’t low-carb by definition yet will in general be so by and by.

It underlines meats, fish, fish, eggs, vegetables, natural products, tubers, nuts, and seeds. An exacting paleo diet dispenses with prepared foods, included sugar, grains, vegetables, and dairy items.

There are a few other famous adaptations, for example, the base outline and impeccable wellbeing consumes less calories. Every one of them will in general be a lot of lower in carbs than a commonplace Western eating routine.

Synopsis

The paleo diet includes eating natural foods that were likely accessible to your Paleolithic predecessors. While not carefully low-carb, it tends to be adjusted to fit such a way of life.

Conclusion

In case you’re going to attempt a low-carb diet, pick an arrangement that suits your way of life, nourishment inclinations, and individual wellbeing objectives.

What works for one individual may not work for the following, so the best diet for you is the one you can adhere to.

Visit the website to support us: strong health today Credit goes to How can I do a low carb diet?

You may like: What number of carbs should you eat to lose weight? You may like: List of best low carbs vegetables for vegans You may like: Don’t eat those foods if you are on low carb diet

Thanks. Hope it will help you.

[newstfionline]

Rewriting Life

By Adam Piore, MIT Technology Review, November 30, 2017

It’s the Monday morning following the opening weekend of the movie Blade Runner 2049, and Eric C. Leuthardt is standing in the center of a floodlit operating room clad in scrubs and a mask, hunched over an unconscious patient.

“I thought he was human, but I wasn’t sure,” Leuthardt says to the surgical resident standing next to him, as he draws a line on the area of the patient’s shaved scalp where he intends to make his initial incisions for brain surgery. “Did you think he was a replicant?”

“I definitely thought he was a replicant,” the resident responds, using the movie’s term for the eerily realistic-looking bioengineered androids.

“What I think is so interesting is that the future is always flying cars,” Leuthardt says, handing the resident his Sharpie and picking up a scalpel. “They captured the dystopian component: they talk about biology, the replicants. But they missed big chunks of the future. Where were the neural prosthetics?”

It’s a topic that Leuthardt, a 44-year-old scientist and brain surgeon, has spent a lot of time imagining. In addition to his duties as a neurosurgeon at Washington University in St. Louis, he has published two novels and written an award-winning play aimed at “preparing society for the changes ahead.” In his first novel, a techno-thriller called RedDevil 4, 90 percent of human beings have elected to get computer hardware implanted directly into their brains. This allows a seamless connection between people and computers, and a wide array of sensory experiences without leaving home. Leuthardt believes that in the next several decades such implants will be like plastic surgery or tattoos, undertaken with hardly a second thought.

“I cut people open for a job,” he notes. “So it’s not hard to imagine.”

But Leuthardt has done far more than just imagine this future. He specializes in operating on patients with intractable epilepsy, all of whom must spend several days before their main surgery with electrodes implanted on their cortex as computers aggregate information about the neural firing patterns that precede their seizures. During this period, they are confined to a hospital bed and are often extremely bored. About 15 years ago, Leuthardt had an epiphany: why not recruit them to serve as experimental subjects? It would both ease their tedium and help bring his dreams closer to reality.

Leuthardt began designing tasks for them to do. Then he analyzed their brain signals to see what he might learn about how the brain encodes our thoughts and intentions, and how such signals might be used to control external devices. Was the data he had access to sufficiently robust to describe intended movement? Could he listen in on a person’s internal verbal monologues? Is it possible to decode cognition itself?

Though the answers to some of these questions were far from conclusive, they were encouraging. Encouraging enough to instill in Leuthardt the certitude of a true believer--one who might sound like a crackpot, were he not a brain surgeon who deals in the life-and-death realm of the operating room, where there is no room for hubris or delusion. Leuthardt knows better than most that brain surgery is dangerous, scary, and difficult for the patient. But his understanding of the brain has also given him a clear-eyed view of its inherent limitations--and the potential of technology to help overcome them. Once the rest of the world understands the promise, he insists--and once the technologies progress--the human race will do what it has always done. It will evolve. This time with the help of chips implanted in our heads.

“A true fluid neural integration is going to happen,” Leuthardt says. “It’s just a matter of when. If it’s 10 or 100 years in the grand scheme of things, it’s a material development in the course of human history.”

Leuthardt is by no means the only one with exotic ambitions for what are known as brain-computer interfaces. Last March Elon Musk, a founder of Tesla and SpaceX, launched Neuralink, a venture aiming to create devices that facilitate mind-machine melds. Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg has expressed similar dreams, and last spring his company revealed that it has 60 engineers working on building interfaces that would let you type using just your mind. Bryan Johnson, the founder of the online payment system Braintree, is using his fortune to fund Kernel, a company that aims to develop neuroprosthetics he hopes will eventually boost intelligence, memory, and more.

These plans, however, are all in their early phases and have been shrouded in secrecy, making it hard to assess how much progress has been made--or whether the goals are even remotely realistic. The challenges of brain-computer interfaces are myriad. The kinds of devices that people like Musk and Zuckerberg are talking about won’t just require better hardware to facilitate seamless mechanical connection and communication between silicon computers and the messy gray matter of the human brain. They’ll also have to have sufficient computational power to make sense out of the mass of data produced at any given moment as many of the brain’s nearly 100 billion neurons fire. One other thing: we still don’t know the code the brain uses. We will have to, in other words, learn how to read people’s minds.

But Leuthardt, for one, expects he will live to see it. “At the pace at which technology changes, it’s not inconceivable to think that in a 20-year time frame everything in a cell phone could be put into a grain of rice,” he says. “That could be put into your head in a minimally invasive way, and would be able to perform the computations necessary to be a really effective brain-computer interface.”

Scientists have long known that the firing of our neurons is what allows us to move, feel, and think. But breaking the code by which neurons talk to each other and the rest of the body--developing the capacity to actually listen in and make sense of precisely how it is that brain cells allow us to function--has long stood as one of neuroscience’s most daunting tasks.

In the early 1980s, an engineer named Apostolos Georgopoulos, at Johns Hopkins, paved the way for the current revolution in brain-computer interfaces. Georgopoulos identified neurons in the higher-level processing areas of the motor cortex that fired prior to specific kinds of movement--such as a flick of the wrist to the right, or a downward thrust with the arm. What made Georgopoulos’s discovery so important was that you could record these signals and use them to predict the direction and intensity of the movements. Some of these neuronal firing patterns guided the behavior of scores of lower-level neurons working together to move the individual muscles and, ultimately, a limb.

Using arrays of dozens of electrodes to track these high-level signals, Georgopoulos demonstrated that he could predict not just which way a monkey would move a joystick in three-dimensional space, but even the velocity of the movement and how it would change over time.

Within a few years of testing, Leuthardt’s patients had shown the capacity to play Space Invaders simply by thinking.

It was, it seemed clear, precisely the kind of data one might use to give a paralyzed patient mind control over a prosthetic device. Which is the task that one of Georgopoulos’s protégés, Andrew Schwartz, took on in the 1990s. By the late 1990s Schwartz, who is currently a neurobiologist at the University of Pittsburgh, had implanted electrodes in the brains of monkeys and begun to demonstrate that it was indeed possible to train them to control robotic limbs just by thinking.

Leuthardt, in St. Louis to do a neurosurgery residency at Washington University in 1999, was inspired by such work: when he needed to decide how to spend a mandated year-long research break, he knew exactly what he wanted to focus on. Schwartz’s initial success had convinced Leuthardt that science fiction was on the verge of becoming reality. Scientists were finally taking the first tentative steps toward the melding of man and machine. Leuthardt wanted to be part of the coming revolution.

He thought he might devote his year to studying the problem of scarring in mice: over time, the single electrodes that Schwartz and others implanted as part of this work caused inflammatory reactions, or ended up sheathed in brain cells and immobilized. But when Leuthardt and his advisor sat down to map out a plan, the two came up with a better idea. Why not see if they might be able to use a different brain recording technique altogether?

“We were like, ‘Hey, we’ve got humans with electrodes in them all the time!’” Leuthardt says. “Why don’t we just do some experiments with them?”

Georgopoulos and Schwartz had collected their data using a technique that relies on microelectrodes next to the cell membranes of individual neurons to detect voltage changes. The electrodes Leuthardt used, which are implanted before surgery in epilepsy patients, were far larger and were placed on the surface of the cortex, under the scalp, on strips of plastic, where they recorded the signals emanating from hundred of thousands of neurons at the same time. To install them, Leuthardt performed an initial operation in which he removed the top of the skull, cut through the dura (the brain’s outermost membrane), and placed the electrodes directly on top of the brain. Then he connected them to wires that snaked out of the patient’s head in a bundle and plugged into machinery that could analyze the brain signals.

Such electrodes had been used successfully for decades to identify the exact origin in the brain of an epilepsy patient’s intractable seizures. After the initial surgery, the patient stops taking anti-seizure medication, which will eventually prompt an epileptic episode--and the data about its physical source helps doctors like Leuthardt decide which section of the brain to resect in order to forestall future episodes.

But many were skeptical that the electrodes would yield enough information to control a prosthetic. To help find out, Leuthardt recruited Gerwin Schalk, a computer scientist at the Wadsworth Center, a public-health laboratory of the New York State Department of Health. Progress was swift. Within a few years of testing, Leuthardt’s patients had shown the capacity to play Space Invaders--moving a virtual spaceship left and right--simply by thinking. Then they moved a cursor in three-dimensional space on a screen.

In 2006, after a speech on this work at a conference, Schalk was approached by Elmar Schmeisser, a program manager at the U.S. Army Research Office. Schmeisser had in mind something far more complex. He wanted to find out if it was possible to decode “imagined speech”--words not vocalized, but simply spoken silently in one’s mind. Schmeisser, also a science fiction fan, had long dreamed of creating a “thought helmet” that could detect a soldier’s imagined speech and transmit it wirelessly to a fellow soldier’s earpiece.

Leuthardt recruited 12 bedridden epilepsy patients, confined to their rooms and bored as they waited to have seizures, and presented each one with 36 words that had a relatively simple consonant-vowel-consonant structure, such as “bet,” “bat,” “beat,” and “boot.” He asked the patients to say the words out loud and then to simply imagine saying them--conveying the instructions visually (written on a computer screen), with no audio, and again vocally, with no video, to make sure that he could identify incoming sensory signals in the brain. Then he shipped the data to Schalk for analysis.

Schalk’s software relies on pattern recognition algorithms--his programs can be trained to recognize the activation patterns of groups of neurons associated with a given task or thought. With a minimum of 50 to 200 electrodes, each one producing 1,000 readings per second, the programs must churn through a dizzying number of variables. The more electrodes and the smaller the population of neurons per electrode, the better the chance of detecting meaningful patterns--if sufficient computing power can be brought to bear to sort out irrelevant noise.

“The more resolution the better, but at the minimum it’s about 50,000 numbers a second,” Schalk says. “You have to extract the one thing you are really interested in. That’s not so straightforward.”

At the top of the list of things to do is preparing humanity for what’s coming.

Schalk’s results, however, were surprisingly robust. As one might expect, when Leuthardt’s subjects vocalized a word, the data indicated activity in the areas of the motor cortex associated with the muscles that produce speech. The auditory cortex, and an area in its vicinity long believed to be associated with speech processing, were also active at the exact same moments. Remarkably, there were similar yet slightly different activation patterns even when the subjects only imagined the words silently.

Schalk, Leuthardt, and others involved in the project believe they have found the little voice that we hear in our mind when we imagine speaking. The system has never been perfect: after years of effort and refinements to his algorithms, Schalk’s program guesses correctly 45 percent of the time. But rather than attempt to push those numbers higher (they expect performance to improve with better sensors), Schalk and Leuthardt have focused on decoding increasingly complex components of speech.

In recent years, Schalk has continued to extend the findings on real and imagined speech (he can tell whether a subject is imagining speaking Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech or Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address). Leuthardt, meanwhile, has attempted to push on into the next realm: identifying the way the brain encodes intellectual concepts across different regions.

The data on that effort is not published yet, “but the honest truth is we’re still trying to make sense of it,” Leuthardt says. His lab, he acknowledges, may be approaching the limits of what’s possible using current technologies.

“The moment we got early evidence that we could decode intentions,” Leuthardt says, “I knew it was on.”

Soon after obtaining those results, Leuthardt took seven days off to write, visualize the future, and think about both short- and long-term goals. At the top of the list of things to do, he decided, was preparing humanity for what’s coming, a job that is still very much in progress.

With sufficient funding, Leuthardt insists, reclining in a chair in his office after performing surgery, he could already create a prosthetic implant for a general market that would allow someone to use a computer and control a cursor in three-dimensional space. Users could also do things like turn lights on and off, or turn heat up and down, using their thoughts alone. They might even be able to experience artificially induced tactile sensations and access some rudimentary means of turning imagined speech into text. “With current technology, I could make an implant--but how many people are going to want that now?” he says. “I think it’s very important to take practical, short interval steps to get people moved along the pathway toward this road of the long-term vision.”

To that end, Leuthardt founded NeuroLutions, a company aimed at demonstrating that there is a market, even today, for rudimentary devices that link mind and machine--and at beginning to use the technology to help people. NeuroLutions has raised several million so far, and a noninvasive brain interface for stroke victims who have lost function on one side is currently in human trials.

The device consists of brain-monitoring electrodes that sit on the scalp and are attached to an arm orthosis; it can detect a neural signature for intended movement before the signal reaches the motor area of the brain. The neural signals are on the opposite side of the brain from the area usually destroyed by the stroke--and thus are usually spared any damage. By detecting them, amplifying them, and using them to control a device that moves the paralyzed limb, Leuthardt has found, he can actually help a patient regain independent control over the limb, far faster and more effectively than is possible with any approach currently on the market. Importantly, the device can be used without brain surgery.

Though the technology is decidedly modest compared with Leuthardt’s grand designs for the future, he believes this is an area where he can meaningfully transform people’s lives right now. There are about 700,000 new stroke patients in the U.S. each year, and the most common motor impairment is a paralyzed hand. Finding a way to help more of them regain function--and demonstrating that he can do it faster and more effectively--would not only demonstrate the power of brain-computer interfaces but meet a huge medical need.

Leuthardt is so eager for the world to share his passion for the technology’s potentially transformative effects that he has also sought to engage the public through art. In addition to writing his novels and play, he is working on a podcast and YouTube series with a fellow neurosurgeon, in which the two discuss technology and philosophy over coffee and doughnuts.

In Leuthardt’s first book, RedDevil 4, one character uses his “cortical prosthetic” to experience hiking the Himalayas while sitting on his couch. Another, a police detective, confers telepathically with a colleague about how to question a murder suspect standing right in front of them. Every character has instant access to all the knowledge in the world’s libraries--can access it as quickly as a person can think any spontaneous thought. No one ever has to be alone, and our bodies no longer limit us. On the flip side, everyone’s brain is vulnerable to computer viruses that can turn people into psychopaths.

Leuthardt acknowledges that at present, we still lack the power to record and stimulate the number of neurons it would take to replicate these visions. But he claims his conversations with some Silicon Valley investors have only fueled his optimism that we’re on the brink of an innovation explosion.

Schalk says it’s “very, very obvious” that in the next five to 10 years some form of brain-computer interface will be used to rehabilitate victims of strokes, spinal cord injuries, chronic pain, and other disorders. But he compares the current recording techniques to the IBM computers of the 1960s, saying that they are now “archaic.” For the technology to reach its true long-term potential, he believes, a new sort of brain-scanning technology will be needed--something that can read far more neurons at once.

“What you really want is to be able to listen to the brain and talk to the brain in a way that the brain cannot distinguish from the way it communicates internally, and we can’t do that right now,” Schalk says. “We really don’t know how to do it at this point. But it’s also obvious to me that it is going to happen. And if and when that happens, our lives are going to change, and our lives are going to change in a way that is completely unprecedented.”

At the very least, says Leuthardt, the buzz emanating from Silicon Valley has generated “real excitement and real thinking about brain-computer interfaces being a practical reality.” That, he says, is “something we haven’t seen before.” And though he acknowledges that if this turns out to be hype it could “set the field back a decade or two,” nothing, he believes, will stop us from reaching the ultimate goal: a technology that will allow us to transcend the cognitive and physical limitations previous generations of humankind have taken for granted.

“It’s going to happen,” he insists. “This has the potential to alter the evolutionary direction of the human race.”

[jesica-blog]

What is Low-Carb Diet?

Low Carb Diet

A low-carb diet points of confinement sugars, for example, those found in grains, dull vegetables and products of the soil foods high in protein and fat. Numerous kinds of low-carb diets exist. Each eating routine has changing confinements on the sorts and measures of sugars you can eat.

Studies demonstrate that low-carb diets bring about weight reduction and improved health markers. These weight control plans share been for all intents and purpose use for quite a long time and are suggested by numerous specialists. Best yet, there's typically no compelling reason to tally calories or utilize extraordinary items you should simply to eat genuine foods.

Can it help you lose weight?

When all is said in done, lessening your carb admission can enable you to shed pounds.

Supplanting carbs with protein or fat can enable you to feel all the more full and eat less generally speaking calories, which thus advances weight loss.

What's more, low-carb consumes less calories commonly advance fast weight reduction in the initial couple of weeks because of a speedy drop in water weight. This is on the grounds that each gram of carbs holds around three grams of water in your body.

An investigation in 79 corpulent grown-ups found that more than a half year, the individuals who limited carb admission to less than 30 grams for each day lost around 8.8 pounds (4 kg) more than the individuals who rather confined fat to less than 30% of every day calories.

Different examinations offer comparative outcomes and recommend that following extremely low-carb or ketogenic eats less carbs for beyond what a year can bring about progressively continued weight reduction contrasted with low-fat eating regimens.

In any case, the exploration is blended. A few examinations have discovered that low-carb diets are not any more viable for long haul weight reduction than other eating techniques that likewise lessen by and large calorie admission, for example, low-fat eating regimens.

In light of these outcomes, following a no-carb diet would probably bring about weight reduction at any rate for the time being.

All things considered, you don't have to totally dispose of carbs to accomplish weight reduction. Slowly lessening your carb admission and, all the more critically, diminishing your general calorie admission are less prohibitive approaches to get in shape.

How does it work?

When you keep away from sugar and starches, your glucose will in general balance out and the degrees of the fat-putting away hormone insulin drop. This builds fat consuming and makes you feel increasingly satisfied, lessening foods admission and causing weight reduction.

Studies demonstrate that a low-carb diet can make it simpler to lose weight and to control your blood sugar, among other benefits.

Popular Ways to Do a Low-Carb Diet

1.A Typical Low-Carb Diet

The run of the mill low-carb diet does not have a fixed definition.

It is just alluded to as a low-carb or carb-limited eating regimen.

This eating example will in general be lower in carbs and higher in protein than a run of the mill Western eating routine. It as a rule underscores meats, fish, eggs, nuts, seeds, vegetables, organic products, and sound fats.

You're intended to limit your admission of high-carb foods like grains, potatoes, sugary beverages, and high-sugar low quality foods.

The prescribed carb consumption every day for the most part relies upon your objectives and inclinations. A typical rubric may be something like this:

100–150 grams

This range is intended for weight upkeep or regular high-power work out. It gives space for a lot of products of the soil some boring foods like potatoes.

50–100 grams

This range is planned for gradual weight reduction or weight upkeep. There's space for a lot of vegetables and natural product. Under 50 grams. This is geared toward fast weight loss. Eat plenty of vegetables but limit fruit intake to berries low on the glycemic index.

2.Ketogenic Diet

The ketogenic diet is an exceptionally low-carb, high-fat eating regimen.

The objective of a keto diet is to keep carbs so low that your body goes into a metabolic state called ketosis.

In this express, your insulin levels plunge and your body discharges a lot of unsaturated fats from its fat stores.

A great deal of these unsaturated fats are moved to your liver, which transforms them into ketones. Ketones are water-dissolvable particles that can cross the blood-mind boundary and supply vitality to your cerebrum.

At that point, rather than running on carbs, your mind begins depending to a great extent on ketones. Your body can deliver the limited quantity of glucose still required by your cerebrum by means of a procedure called gluconeogenesis.

A few renditions of this eating regimen even confine protein consumption in light of the fact that an excessive amount of protein may decrease the quantity of ketones you produce.

Generally used to treat sedate safe epilepsy in kids, the keto diet may likewise have benefits for other neurological issue and metabolic issues like sort 2 diabetes.

It has additionally turned out to be famous for fat misfortune even among certain weight lifters as it's a viable method to lose fat and will in general reason a noteworthy decrease in craving.

A ketogenic diet includes high-protein, high-fat foods. Carbs are commonly constrained to less than 50 and now and again as few as 20 30 grams for each day.

A traditional keto eating example is alluded to as a standard ketogenic diet (SKD).

In any case, there are different varieties that include deliberately including carbs:

Directed ketogenic diet (TKD)

In this rendition, you include limited quantities of carbs around exercises.

Recurrent ketogenic diet (CKD)

This sort has you eat a ketogenic diet on most days yet change to a high-carb diet for 1–2 days every week.

3.Low-Carb, High-Fat (LCHF)

LCHF stands for "low-carb, high-fat." It's a genuinely standard low-carb diet however with a considerably more prominent accentuation on entire, natural foods.

It centers for the most part around meats, fish and shellfish, eggs, sound fats, vegetables, dairy items, nuts, and berries. The prescribed carb intake on this diet can range from 20–100 grams per day.

4.Low-Carb Paleo Diet

The paleo diet is right now one of the world's most mainstream methods for eating. It energizes eating foods that were likely accessible in the Paleolithic time before the horticultural and mechanical insurgencies.

As indicated by paleo defenders, coming back to the eating routine of your ancient predecessors ought to improve health since people supposedly developed and adjusted to eating such foods.

A few little examinations demonstrate that a paleo diet can cause weight reduction, lessen blood sugars, and improve hazard factors for coronary illness.

A paleo diet isn't low-carb by definition however will in general be so practically speaking.

It underscores meats, fish, fish, eggs, vegetables, natural products, tubers, nuts, and seeds. An exacting paleo diet takes out prepared foods, included sugar, grains, vegetables, and dairy items. There are several other popular versions, such as the primal blueprint and perfect health diets. All of them tend to be much lower in carbs than a typical Western diet.

5.Eco-Atkins

An eating regimen named Eco-Atkins is basically a veggie lover adaptation of the Atkins diet.

It incorporates plant foods and fixings that are high in protein and additionally fat, for example, gluten, soy, nuts, and plant oils.

About 25% of its calories originate from carbs, 30% from protein, and 45% from fat.

As such, it's higher in carbs than a commonplace Atkins diet yet at the same time much lower than a run of the mill veggie lover diet.

One six-month study demonstrated that an Eco-Atkins diet caused more weight reduction and more noteworthy improvement in coronary illness hazard factors than a high-carb vegetarian diet.

6.Zero-Carb

A few people want to take out all carbs from their diet.

This is known as a zero-carb diet and typically incorporates just creature foods.

Individuals who pursue a zero-carb diet eat meat, fish, eggs, and creature fats like margarine and fat. Some of them additionally include salt and flavors.

There are no ongoing investigations that demonstrate a zero-carb diet to be protected. Just one contextual analysis from 1930 exists, in which two men ate only meat and organs for a year however seemed to stay healthy.

A zero-carb diet is inadequate in some significant supplements, for example, vitamin C and fiber. For this reason, it is generally not recommended.

7.Low-Carb Mediterranean Diet

The Mediterranean diet is exceptionally prominent, particularly among health experts.

It depends on the conventional foods of Mediterranean nations prior in the twentieth century.

Studies demonstrate that this eating regimen may help avoid coronary illness, bosom malignant growth, and type 2 diabetes.

A low-carb Mediterranean eating example is designed according to its namesake diet yet constrains higher-carb foods like entire grains.

Dissimilar to a customary low-carb diet, it accentuates increasingly greasy fish rather than red meat and all the more additional virgin olive oil rather than fats like spread.

A low-carb Mediterranean eating routine might be preferable for coronary illness counteractive action over other low-carb consumes less calories, despite the fact that this should be affirmed in studies.

The Bottom Line

In case you're going to attempt a low-carb diet, pick an arrangement that suits your way of life, foods inclinations, and individual health objectives.

What works for one individual may not work for the following, so the best diet for you is the one you can stick to.

[their-hairpin-blog]

Chapter One

Chapter One introduces our main characters a little bit, along with some of the actions, relationships and motives. This story-blog is set after DR:AE; Izuru has become the leader of the Remnants of Despair, Nagito has brought Monaca Towa back and she has some knowledge that nobody else does. Join the remnants on their journey and the lead-in to what we know as SDR2.:)

He took out the small, pendant-like hairclip from his pocket. The only emotion he had felt before the soft girl’s execution was boredom. Now, all he could feel was this despair that Enoshima repeatedly taught him existed in everybody’s life. At first, he thought he was the exception, feeling nothing but loneliness in his brain. Nobody could be like him, it was only he that existed of his kind. The world’s Ultimate Hope was the title given to him, however, he found this name merely ironic now. He slowly tumbled the minuscule rocketship in his hand. This pain he could feel in his chest, the tears flowing freely from his eyes. He struggled to understand. “K-Kamukura?”

He jolted around, clutching onto the hairpin tightly. The call had come from the timid Ultimate Nurse, Mikan Tsumiki. She was a tall, slim woman who had made her advances on the Ultimate Hope many a time before, however, he felt nothing but emptiness. “Hello, Mikan. You’re here? How…” he stopped himself, and without use of a better word, continued his sentence, “boring.”

Her eyes had widened, wincing back, “I-I’m sorry! I-I just wanted you to know, N-Nagito…”

“Has returned? With the child?” She nodded, with warm tears in her eyes. Kamukura sighed, slipping the hairclip back into his pocket. “Then let’s welcome them.”

“Monaca likes to play!” The child beamed, twirling around in circles. Ibuki joined in, spinning around with her.

“I’m glad,” Nagito smiled fondly, sitting on a chair and watching on. Kamukura entered the room, making the blonde man jump up, standing attentively to him. “Kamukura.”

“Don’t speak. The child is safe here, and she will follow Miss Junko Enoshima, correct?” Kamukura looked at the twelve-year-old, wondering how she would take on the embodiment of despair, as Miss Enoshima had previously held; a woman half a decade older than the young girl stood in front of him.

Surprising him, she giggled, “Silly adult!” Her face turned serious; cold and unforgiving, she glared at him. “Big Sis Junko taught Monaca everything she knows.” With a slight tilt of her head, she smiled, “Especially as to how you became who you are, and how you came to be. And why you can’t help but feel despair when you hold Nanami’s hairpin.”

“Nanami…” Nagito whispered, whilst Ibuki stopped focusing and fixated herself on the point. Mikan let out a soft whimper.

Looking around at the despair-induced individuals, Kamukura stood confused. “Who…”

“Monaca’s glad Big Bro had this talk! Monaca wants to go to sleep now!” With her sing-song melodic voice, she skipped off to a different room, leaving Tsumiki in soft sobs, Nagito rushing over to wipe away her tears, Ibuki fixated on one spot and Kamukura stood in the middle of the hall, confused.

Ibuki slowly looked at Kamukura. “Nanami-chan’s hairpin?” She asked, stepping over to him. “Let Ibuki see?”

Kamukura scooped it from his pocket, holding it to the Ultimate Musician. “A space rocket? Who was she? She knew… something I cannot repeat.”

“Our classmate. She was more than that, she was a friend,” Ibuki whispered, taking the hairpin gently. Her eyes flooded with tears.

Kamukura suddenly felt emptiness. Without that pin, he didn’t feel the same kind of despair. A sense of longing for somebody, and a sense of belonging. He felt nothing. He snatched it back from Mioda, walking out of the room quickly, stepping into his office and slamming the door behind him.

“How was your adventure?” Mikan smiled, Nagito leading her slowly towards her office.

Recalling his journey, he mentioned meeting Makoto Naegi’s sister, Komaru, and bumping into Toko Fukawa, a member of the Future Foundation who would surely lend her information to a higher up, such as Byakuya Togami. “So, I’d say it was pretty adventurous, to answer your question!”

“Y-You really should be careful, Nagito…” Mikan whispered as he helped her out of the hall. Each wall looked the same, as did each door and corner. As a hideout for the remnants of despair, this area held up extremely well for its specified purpose. With a current residency of seven adults, a child and four hamsters, it was definitely large enough to accommodate, along with the others had they chosen to live there. Once the two had arrived at the Nurse’s Office, she turned to him. “Too much walking can be very… very dangerous!”

The blonde sat down, rubbing at his forehead. “I appreciate your concern, Mikan, but you don’t have to worry about trash like me.”

“But I want to,” she said, sitting down next to him. She leant over, kissing his cheek. “You know I don’t like it when you’re not with me. I get so nervous…”

He smiled, holding her to his warm body, “I know. I miss you when I’m not here,” he whispered into her hair, lifting her chin to kiss her lips softly.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, knotting one hand in his hair. “N-Nagito?”

“Mm?” He mumbled softly against her lips, eyelids heavy on his face. “What’s wrong?”

She smiled, kissing him deeply once more, “Nothing, just ki-” And before she could say anything else, his hands were over her body, exploring every curve he could find.

Kamukura had had enough. What with the commotion of previous events, he gripped on to the deceased Nanami’s hairpin, clutching on to the faintest sense of hope he could find. His eyes welled up once more and he stood confused, uneasy with what the child knew. What did Junko know, who was he? Who was Nanami? He needed to step away from his locked confinements, taking a slow walk around the remnant’s hideout.

“Crimson Steel Elephant Maga-Z has escaped!”

Kamukura stopped, his eyes rolling as he made his way towards Gundham Tanaka’s quarters. Each wall was painted dark, the decoration becoming more elaborate to match his Supreme Overlord sentence bestowed upon himself. A reflection caught his eye from the mirror, but he made no visible note. “Tanaka,” Kamukura muttered, bluntly, upon reaching the chambers.

An attractive blonde woman was sat upon Tanaka’s bed, her full length black ball gown surrounding her ankles, her red heels just visible on the dark oak effect of the floor. Her image known to Kamukura as Sonia Nevermind, the Ultimate Princess. “Izuru, Gundham cannot find Maga-Z anywhere. Have you perhaps seen him?”

“I’m afraid not,” Kamukura sighed, a glimpse of a smile appearing on his face. “However, I believe a pink shark is just outside your chambers.”

“Not cool, Kamukura,” Souda complained, letting his guard down and letting himself be seen. “I just… Miss Sonia, if you weren’t busy…” “I’m afraid I’m very busy,” she sighed, wrapping Gundham’s scarf around her shoulders. “I’ll go look for him.” The Princess gently pressed her lips to the breeder’s forehead, evoking a small smile from the latter’s lips.

“Thank you, my dark queen,” he smiled, setting her tiara upon her head and watching her leave. Souda pulled his beanie over his ears and left in a different direction.

“Now,” Izuru signed with his finger trembling slightly, wiping his face thoroughly, “I’ll be on my way.”

Gundham stood and walked over to Izuru, looking down slightly. “I feel a spirit watching over you. You’re being protected, do you understand that?” Izuru took out the hairpin, showing his fellow despair. “This is the possession of the sleepy one, correct?”

“I believe so,” Izuru whispered, passing it to him. “I watched her die, she called me by a different name. Hajime.”

The Breeder studied it for a moment before passing it back to him. “This precious instrument holds the sleepy one’s spirit, and it is connected strongly with you. It is yours to protect.”

“Can you do anything to contact her?”

“I…” Gundham looked Kamukura in the eye. “I can certainly attempt to.”

“In return…” Kamukura smiled, “you’re very clever, and certainly not boring. But I can see what you’re doing.”

Tanaka’s eyes widened as Kamukura left his quarters.

[stoweboyd]

The tension in the progressive community about on demand work as a positive, neutral, or negative force in labor economics is tightening, and attention must be paid because the labor laws and tax laws are shaping the lives of millions, even if no apparent plan is in place.

Heller’s piece is a preposterous length and is difficult to summarize, but here goes. New start-ups are operating at the edges and fringes of our economy, tapping into the economic leverage of freelance workers willing -- in the downdraft of the great recession -- to work for peanuts and to rent their possessions (mostly living space) for pocket money, This is the ‘on demand’ economy, which allows some -- mostly  millennials -- to paperclip a livelihood out of Uber, Airbnb, and Hello Alfred. Heller discusses government policies about the precarious lifestyle with political and government leaders, but like the lives of the individuals he talks with, we wind up with no resolution and more answers than we started with. Which might mean Heller’s on the right path, or that our society is falling behind and leaving social policy to be decided by Uber and Airbnb, and not by governments, unions, or other traditional institutions.

The American workplace is both a seat of national identity and a site of chronic upheaval and shame. The industry that drove America’s rise in the nineteenth century was often inhumane. The twentieth-century corrective—a corporate workplace of rules, hierarchies, collective bargaining, triplicate forms—brought its own unfairnesses. Gigging reflects the endlessly personalizable values of our own era, but its social effects, untried by time, remain uncertain.

Support for the new work model has come together swiftly, though, in surprising quarters. On the second day of the most recent Democratic National Convention, in July, members of a four-person panel suggested that gigging life was not only sustainable but the embodiment of today’s progressive values. “It’s all about democratizing capitalism,” Chris Lehane, a strategist in the Clinton Administration and now Airbnb’s head of global policy and public affairs, said during the proceedings, in Philadelphia. David Plouffe, who had managed Barack Obama’s 2008 campaign before he joined Uber, explained, “Politically, you’re seeing a large contingent of the Obama coalition demanding the sharing economy.” Instead of being pawns in the games of industry, the panelists thought, working Americans could thrive by hiring out skills as they wanted, and putting money in the pockets of peers who had done the same. The power to control one’s working life would return, grassroots style, to the people.

The basis for such confidence was largely demographic. Though statistics about gigging work are few, and general at best, a Pew study last year found that seventy-two per cent of American adults had used one of eleven sharing or on-demand services, and that a third of people under forty-five had used four or more. “To ‘speak millennial,’ you ought to be talking about the sharing economy, because it is core and central to their economic future,” Lehane declared, and many of his political kin have agreed. No other commercial field has lately drawn as deeply from the Democratic brain trust. Yet what does democratized capitalism actually promise a politically unsettled generation? Who are its beneficiaries? At a moment when the nation’s electoral future seems tied to the fate of its jobs, much more than next month’s paycheck depends on the answers.

[...]

In 1970, Charles A. Reich, a law professor who’d experienced a countercultural conversion after hanging with young people out West, published “The Greening of America,” a cotton-candy cone that wound together wispy revelations from the sixties. Casting an eye across modern history, he traced a turn from a world view that he called Consciousness I (the outlook of local farmers, self-directed workers, and small-business people, reaching a crisis in the exploitations of the Gilded Age) to what he called Consciousness II (the outlook of a society of systems, hierarchies, corporations, and gray flannel suits). He thought that Consciousness II was giving way to Consciousness III, the outlook of a rising generation whose virtues included direct action, community power, and self-definition. “For most Americans, work is mindless, exhausting, boring, servile, and hateful, something to be endured while ‘life’ is confined to ‘time off,’ ” Reich wrote. “Consciousness III people simply do not imagine a career along the old vertical lines.” His accessible theory of the baffling sixties carried the imprimatur of William Shawn’s New Yorker, which published an excerpt of the book that stretched over nearly seventy pages. “The Greening of America” spent months on the Times best-seller list.

Exponents of the futuristic tech economy frequently adopt this fifty-year-old perspective. Like Reich, they eschew the hedgehog grind of the forty-hour week; they seek a freer way to work. This productivity-minded spirit of defiance holds appeal for many children of the Consciousness III generation: the so-called millennials.

“People are now, more than ever before, aware of the careers that they’re not pursuing,” says Kathryn Minshew, the C.E.O. of the Muse, a job-search and career-advice site, and a co-author of “The New Rules of Work.” Minshew co-founded the Muse in her mid-twenties, after working at the consulting firm McKinsey and yearning for a job that felt more distinctive. She didn’t know what that was, and her peers seemed similarly stuck. Jennifer Fonstad, a venture capitalist whose firm, Aspect Ventures, backed Minshew’s company, told me that “the future of work” is now a promising investment field.

[...]

In promotional material, Airbnb refers to itself as “an economic lifeline for the middle class.”A company-sponsored analysis released in December overlaid maps of Airbnb listings and traditional hotels on maps of neighborhoods where a majority of residents were ethnic minorities. In seven cities, including New York, the percentage of Airbnb listings that fall in minority neighborhoods exceeds the percentage of hotel rooms that do. (Another study, of user photos in seventy-two majority-black neighborhoods, suggested that most Airbnb hosts there were white, complicating the picture.) Seniors were found to earn, on average, nearly six thousand dollars a year from Airbnb listings. “Ultimately, what we’re doing is driving wealth down to the people,” Chris Lehane, the strategist at Airbnb, says.

It is, of course, driving wealth down unevenly. A study conducted by the New York attorney general in 2014 found that nearly half of all money made by Airbnb hosts in the state was coming from three Manhattan neighborhoods: the Village-SoHo corridor, the Lower East Side, and Chelsea. It is undeniably good to be earning fifty-five hundred dollars a year by Airbnb-ing your home in deep Queens—so good, it may not bother you to learn that your banker cousin earns ten times that from his swank West Village pad, or that he hires Happy Host to make his lucrative Airbnb property even more lucrative. But now imagine that the guy who lives two doors down from you gets ideas. His finances aren’t as tight as yours, and he decides to reinvest part of his Airbnb income in new furniture and a greeting service. His ratings go up. Perhaps he nudges up his prices in response, or maybe he keeps them low, to get a high volume of patronage. Now your listing is no longer competitive in your neighborhood. How long before the market leaves you behind?

[...]

A century ago, liberalism was a systems-building philosophy. Its revelation was that society, left alone, tended toward entropy and extremes, not because people were inherently awful but because they thought locally. You wanted a decent life for your family and the families that you knew. You did not—could not—make every personal choice with an eye to the fates of people in some unknown factory. But, even if individuals couldn’t deal with the big picture, early-twentieth-century liberals saw, a larger entity such as government could. This way of thinking brought us the New Deal and “Ask not what your country can do for you.” Its ultimate rejection brought us customized life paths, heroic entrepreneurship, and maybe even Instagram performance. We are now back to the politics of the particular.

For gigging companies, that shift means a constant struggle against a legacy of systemic control, with legal squabbles like the one in New York. Regulation is government’s usual tool for blunting adverse consequences, but most sharing platforms gain their competitive edge by skirting its requirements. Uber and Lyft avoid taxi rules that fix rates and cap the supply on the road. Handy saves on overtime and benefits by categorizing workers as contractors. Some gigging advocates suggest that this less regulated environment is fair, because traditional industry gets advantages elsewhere. (President Trump, it has been pointed out, could not have built his company without hundreds of millions of dollars in tax subsidies.)

Still, since their inception, and increasingly during the past year, gigging companies have become the targets of a journalistic genre that used to be called muckraking: admirable and assiduous investigative work that digs up hypocrisies, deceptions, and malpractices in an effort to cast doubt on a broader project. Some companies, such as Uber, seem to invite this kind of attention with layered wrongdoing and years of secrecy. But they also invite it by their high-minded positioning. Like traditional companies, gigging companies maintain regiments of highly paid lawyers and lobbyists. What sets them apart is a second lobbying effort, turned toward the public.

[...]

Questions have emerged lately about the future of institutional liberalism. A Washington Post /ABC News poll last month found that two-thirds of Americans believe the Democratic Party is “out of touch,” more than think the same of the Republican Party or the current President. The gig economy has helped show how a shared political methodology—and a shared language of virtue—can stand in for a unified program; contemporary liberalism sometimes seems a backpack of tools distributed among people who, beyond their current stance of opposition, lack an agreed-upon blueprint. Unsurprisingly, the commonweal projects that used to be the pride of progressivism are unravelling. Leaders have quietly let them go. At one point, I asked Chris Lehane why he had thrown his support behind the sharing model instead of working on traditional policy solutions. He told me that, during the recession, he had suffered a crisis of faith. “The social safety net wasn’t providing the support that it had been,” he said. “I do think we’re in a time period when liberal democracy is sick.”

In “The Great Risk Shift: The New Economic Insecurity and the Decline of the American Dream” (2006), Jacob Hacker, a political-science professor at Yale, described a decades-long off-loading of risk from insurance-type structures—governments, corporations—to individuals. Economic insecurity has risen in the course of the past generation, even as American wealth climbed. Hacker attributed this shift to what he called “the personal-responsibility crusade,” which grew out of a post-sixties fixation on moral hazard: the idea that you do riskier things if you’re insulated from the consequences. The conservative version of the crusade is a commonplace: the poor should try harder next time. But, although Hacker doesn’t note it explicitly, there’s a liberal version, too, having to do with doffing corporate structures, eschewing inhibiting social norms, and refusing a career in plastics. Reich called it Consciousness III.

The slow passage from love beads to Lyft through the performative assertion of self may be the least claimed legacy of the baby-boomer revolution—certainly, it’s the least celebrated. Yet the place we find ourselves today is not unique. In “Drift and Mastery,” a young Walter Lippmann, one of the founders of modern progressivism, described the strange circumstances of public discussion in 1914, a similar time. “The little business men cried: We’re the natural men, so let us alone,” he wrote. “And the public cried: We’re the most natural of all, so please do stop interfering with us. Muckraking gave an utterance to the small business men and to the larger public, who dominated reform politics. What did they do? They tried by all the machinery and power they could muster to restore a business world in which each man could again be left to his own will—a world that needed no coöperative intelligence.” Coming off a period of liberalization and free enterprise, Lippmann’s America struggled with growing inequality, a frantic news cycle, a rising awareness of structural injustice, and a cacophonous global society—in other words, with an intensifying sense of fragmentation. His idea, the big idea of progressivism, was that national self-government was a coöperative project of putting the pieces together. “The battle for us, in short, does not lie against crusted prejudice,” he wrote, “but against the chaos of a new freedom.”

Revolution or disruption is easy. Spreading long-term social benefit is hard. If one accepts Lehane’s premise that the safety net is tattered and that gigging platforms are necessary to keep people in cash, the model’s social erosions have to be curbed. How can the gig economy be made sustainable at last?

[...]

Other assessments suggest that employees, too, should get their houses in order. “To succeed in the Gig Economy, we need to create a financially flexible life of lower fixed costs, higher savings, and much less debt,” Diane Mulcahy, a senior analyst at the Kauffman Foundation and a lecturer at Babson College, writes in her book “The Gig Economy,” which is part economic argument and part how-to guide. Ideally, gig workers should plan not to retire. (Beyond Airbnb hosting, Mulcahy sees prospects for aging millennials in app-based dog-sitting.) If they must retire, they should prepare. Mulcahy suggests bingeing on benefits when they come. Fill your dance card with doctors while you’re on employee insurance. Go wild with 401(k) matching—it will come in handy.

This ketchup-packet-hoarding approach sounds sensible, given the current lack of systemic support. Yet, as Mulcahy acknowledges, it’s a survival mechanism, not a solution. Turning to deeper reform, she argues for eliminating the current distinction between employees (people who receive a W-2 tax form and benefits such as insurance and sick days) and contract workers (who get a 1099-MISC and no benefits). It’s a “kink” in the labor market, she says, and it invites abuse by efficiency-seeking companies.

Calls for structural change have grown loud lately, in part because the problem goes far beyond gigging apps. The precariat is everywhere. Companies such as Nissan have begun manning factories with temps; even the U.S. Postal Service has turned to them. Academic jobs are increasingly filled with relatively cheap, short-term teaching appointments. Historically, there is usually an uptick in 1099 work during tough economic times, and then W-2s resurge as jobs are added in recovery. But W-2 jobs did not resurge as usual during our recovery from the last recession; instead, the growth has happened in the 1099 column. That shift raises problems because the United States’ benefits structure has traditionally been attached to the corporation rather than to the state: the expectation was that every employed person would have a W-2 job.

“We should design the labor-market regulations around a more flexible model,” Jacob Hacker told me. He favors some form of worker participation, and, like Mulcahy, advocates creating a single category of employment. “I think if you work for someone else, you’re an employee,” he said. “Employees get certain protections. Benefits must be separate from work.”

In a much cited article in Democracy, from 2015, Nick Hanauer, a venture capitalist, and David Rolf, a union president, proposed that workplace benefits be prorated (someone who works a twenty-hour week gets half of the full-time benefits) and portable (insurance or unused vacation days would carry from one job to the next, because employers would pay into a worker’s lifelong benefits account). Other people regard the gig economy as a case for universal basic income: a plan to give every citizen a modest flat annuity from the government, as a replacement for all current welfare and unemployment programs. Alternatively, there’s the proposal made by the economists Seth D. Harris and Alan B. Krueger: the creation of an “independent worker” status that awards some of the structural benefits of W-2 employment (including collective bargaining, discrimination protection, tax withholding, insurance pools) but not others (overtime and the minimum wage).

I put these possibilities to Tom Perez. He told me that he didn’t like the idea of eliminating work categories, or of adding a new one, as Harris and Krueger suggest: you’d lose many of the hard-won benefits included with W-2 employment, he said, either in the compromise to a single category or because current W-2 companies would find ways to slide into the new classification. He wanted to move slowly, to take time. “The heart and soul of the twentieth-century social compact that emerged after the Great Depression was forty years in the making,” he said. “How do we build the twenty-first-century social compact?”

Perez’s new perch, at the D.N.C., has given him a broader platform, and a couple of hours after the House passed the American Health Care Act last week, he championed the old safety net in forceful language. “Scapegoating worker protections is often a lazy cop-out for some who want to change the rules to benefit themselves at the expense of working people,” he told me. “We shouldn’t have to choose between innovation and the most basic employee protections; it’s a false dichotomy.” The entanglement of the sharing economy and Democratic politics has continued—Perez’s press secretary at the Department of Labor now works for Airbnb—but his approach had circumspection. “Any changes you make to policies or regulations have to be very careful and take all potential ripple effects into account and keep the best interest of the worker in mind.”

[notintheipswichboyband]

Portrait of an ISTP - Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving

(Introverted Thinking with Extraverted Sensing)

The Mechanic

As an ISTP, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you deal with things rationally and logically.  Your secondary mode is external, where you take things in via your five senses in a literal, concrete fashion.

ISTPs have a compelling drive to understand the way things work.  They're good at logical analysis, and like to use it on practical concerns.   They typically have strong powers of reasoning, although they're not interested in theories or concepts unless they can see a practical application. They like to take things apart and see the way they work.

ISTPs have an adventuresome spirit.  They are attracted to motorcycles, airplanes, sky diving, surfing, etc.  They thrive on action, and are usually fearless.  ISTPs are fiercely independent, needing to have the space to make their own decisions about their next step.  They do not believe in or follow rules and regulations, as this would prohibit their ability to "do their own thing".  Their sense of adventure and desire for constant action makes ISTPs prone to becoming bored rather quickly.

ISTPs are loyal to their causes and beliefs, and are firm believers that people should be treated with equity and fairness.   Although they do not respect the rules of the "System", they follow their own rules and guidelines for behavior faithfully.  They will not take part in something which violates their personal laws.  ISTPs are extremely loyal and faithful to their "brothers".

ISTPs like and need to spend time alone, because this is when they can sort things out in their minds most clearly.  They absorb large quantities of impersonal facts from the external world, and sort through those facts, making judgments, when they are alone.

ISTPs are action-oriented people.  They like to be up and about, doing things. They are not people to sit behind a desk all day and do long-range planning. Adaptable and spontaneous, they respond to what is immediately before them. They usually have strong technical skills, and can be effective technical leaders.  They focus on details and practical things.  They have an excellent sense of expediency and grasp of the details which enables them to make quick, effective decisions.

ISTPs avoid making judgments based on personal values - they feel that judgments and decisions should be made impartially, based on the fact.   They are not naturally tuned in to how they are affecting others.  They do not pay attention to their own feelings, and even distrust them and try to ignore them, because they have difficulty distinguishing between emotional reactions and value judgments.  This may be a problem area for many ISTPs.

An ISTP who is over-stressed may exhibit rash emotional outbursts of anger, or on the other extreme may be overwhelmed by emotions and feelings which they feel compelled to share with people (often inappropriately). An ISTP who is down on themself will foray into the world of value judgments - a place which is not natural for the ISTP - and judge themself by their inability to perform some task.  They will then approach the task in a grim emotional state, expecting the worst.

ISTPs are excellent in a crisis situations.  They're usually good athletes, and have very good hand-eye coordination.  They are good at following through with a project, and tying up loose ends.  They usually don't have much trouble with school, because they are introverts who can think logically.  They are usually patient individuals, although they may be prone to occasional emotional outbursts due to their inattention to their own feelings.

ISTPs have a lot of natural ability which makes them good at many different kinds of things.  However, they are happiest when they are centered in action-oriented tasks which require detailed logical analysis and technical skill.  They take pride in their ability to take the next correct step.

ISTPs are optimistic, full of good cheer, loyal to their equals, uncomplicated in their desires, generous, trusting and receptive people who want no part in confining commitments.  

Jungian functional preference ordering:

Dominant:  Introverted Thinking               

Auxiliary:  Extraverted Sensing              

Tertiary:  Introverted Intuition                    

Inferior:  Extraverted Feeling            

[antoine-roquentin]

Mental health, in fact, is a paradigm case of how capitalist realism operates. Capitalist realism insists on treating mental health as if it were a natural fact, like weather (but, then again, weather is no longer a natural fact so much as a politicaleconomic effect). In the 1960s and 1970s, radical theory and politics (Laing, Foucault, Deleuze and Guattari, etc.) coalesced around extreme mental conditions such as schizophrenia, arguing, for instance, that madness was not a natural, but a political, category. But what is needed now is a politicization of much more common disorders. Indeed, it is their very commonness which is the issue: in Britain, depression is now the condition that is most treated by the NHS. In his book The Selfish Capitalist, Oliver James has convincingly posited a correlation between rising rates of mental distress and the neoliberal mode of capitalism practiced in countries like Britain, the USA and Australia. In line with James's claims, I want to argue that it is necessary to reframe the growing problem of stress (and distress) in capitalist societies. Instead of treating it as incumbent on individuals to resolve their own psychological distress, instead, that is, of accepting the vast privatization of stress that has taken place over the last thirty years, we need to ask: how has it become acceptable that so many people, and especially so many young people, are ill? The 'mental health plague' in capitalist societies would suggest that, instead of being the only social system that works, capitalism is inherently dysfunctional, and that the cost of it appearing to work is very high.... By contrast with their forebears in the 1960s and 1970s, British students today appear to be politically disengaged. While French students can still be found on the streets protesting against neoliberalism, British students, whose situation is incomparably worse, seem resigned to their fate. But this, I want to argue, is a matter not of apathy, nor of cynicism, but of reflexive impotence. They know things are bad, but more than that, they know they can't do anything about it. But that 'knowledge', that reflexivity, is not a passive observation of an already existing state of affairs. It is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Reflexive impotence amounts to an unstated worldview amongst the British young, and it has its correlate in widespread pathologies. Many of the teenagers I worked with had mental health problems or learning difficulties. Depression is endemic. It is the condition most dealt with by the National Health Service, and is afflicting people at increasingly younger ages. The number of students who have some variant of dyslexia is astonishing. It is not an exaggeration to say that being a teenager in late capitalist Britain is now close to being reclassified as a sickness. This pathologization already forecloses any possibility of politicization. By privatizing these problems - treating them as if they were caused only by chemical imbalances in the individual's neurology and/or by their family background - any question of social systemic causation is ruled out. Many of the teenage students I encountered seemed to be in a state of what I would call depressive hedonia. Depression is Usually characterized as a state of anhedonia, but the condition I'm referring to is constituted not by an inability to get pleasure so much as it by an inability to do anything else except pursue pleasure. There is a sense that 'something is missing' - but no appreciation that this mysterious, missing enjoyment can only be accessed beyond the pleasure principle. In large part this is a consequence of students' ambiguous structural position, stranded between their old role as subjects of disciplinary institutions and their new status as consumers of services. In his crucial essay 'Postscript on Societies of Control', Deleuze distinguishes between the disciplinary societies described by Foucault, which were organized around the enclosed spaces of the factory, the school and the prison, and the new control societies, in which all institutions are embedded in a dispersed corporation. Deleuze is right to argue that Kafka is the prophet of distributed, cybernetic power that is typical of Control societies. In The Trial, Kafka importantly distinguishes between two types of acquittal available to the accused. Definite acquittal is no longer possible, if it ever was ('we have only legendary accounts of ancient cases [which] provide instances of acquittal'). The two remaining options, then, are (1) 'Ostensible acquittal', in which the accused is to all and intents and purposes acquitted, but may later, at some unspecified time, face the charges in full, or (2) 'Indefinite postponement', in which the accused engages in (what they hope is an infinitely) protracted process of legal wrangling, so that the dreaded ultimate judgment is unlikely to be forth- coming. Deleuze observes that the Control societies delineated by Kafka himself, but also by Foucault and Burroughs, operate using indefinite postponement: Education as a lifelong process... Training that persists for as long as your working life continues... Work you take home with you... Working from home, homing from work. A consequence of this 'indefinite' mode of power is that external surveillance is succeeded by internal policing. Control only works if you are complicit with it. Hence the Burroughs figure of the 'Control Addict': the one who is addicted to control, but also, inevitably, the one who has been taken over, possessed by Control. Walk into almost any class at the college where I taught and you will immediately appreciate that you are in a post-disciplinary framework. Foucault painstakingly enumerated the way in which discipline was installed through the imposition of rigid body postures. During lessons at our college, however, students will be found slumped on desk, talking almost constantly, snacking incessantly (or even, on occasions, eating full meals). The old disciplinary segmentation of time is breaking down. The carceral regime of discipline is being eroded by the technologies of control, with their systems of perpetual consumption and continuous development. The system by which the college is funded means that it literally cannot afford to exclude students, even if it wanted to. Resources are allocated to colleges on the basis of how successfully they meet targets on achievement (exam results), attendance and retention of students. This combination of market imperatives with bureaucratically-defined 'targets' is typical of the 'market Stalinist' initiatives which now regulate public services. The lack of an effective disciplinary system has not, to say the least, been compensated for by an increase in student self-motivation. Students are aware that if they don't attend for weeks on end, and/or if they don't produce any work, they will not face any meaningful sanction. They typically respond to this freedom not by pursuing projects but by falling into hedonic (or anhedonic) lassitude: the soft narcosis, the comfort food oblivion of Playstation, all-night TV and marijuana. Ask students to read for more than a couple of sentences and many - and these are A-level students mind you - will protest that they can't do it. The most frequent complaint teachers hear is that it's boring. It is not so much the content of the written Material that is at issue here; it is the act of reading itself that is deemed to be 'boring'. What we are facing here is not just time-honored teenage torpor, but the mismatch between a post-literate 'New Flesh' that is 'too wired to concentrate' and the confining, concentrational logics of decaying disciplinary systems. To be bored simply means to be removed from the communicative sensation-stimulus matrix of texting, YouTube and fast food; to be denied, for a moment, the constant flow of sugary gratification on demand. Some students want Nietzsche in the same way that they want a hamburger; they fail to grasp - and the logic of the consumer system encourages this misapprehension - that the indigestibility, the difficulty is Nietzsche. An illustration: I challenged one student about why he always wore headphones in class. He replied that it didn't matter, because he wasn't actually playing any music. In another lesson, he was playing music at very low volume through the headphones, without wearing them. When I asked him to switch it off, he replied that even he couldn't hear it. Why wear the headphones without playing music or play music without wearing the headphones? Because the presence of the phones on the ears or the knowledge that the music is playing (even if he couldn't hear it) was a reassurance that the matrix was still there, within reach. Besides, in a classic example of interpassivity, if the music was still playing, even if he couldn't hear it, then the player could still enjoy it on his behalf. The use of headphones is significant here - pop is experienced not as something which could have impacts upon public space, but as a retreat into private 'Oedlpod' consumer bliss, a walling up against the social. The consequence of being hooked into the entertainment matrix is twitchy, agitated interpassivity, an inability to concentrate or focus. Students' incapacity to connect current lack of focus with future failure, their inability to synthesize time into any coherent narrative, is symptomatic of more than mere demotivation. It is, in fact, eerily reminiscent of Jameson's analysis in 'Postmodernism and Consumer Society'. Jameson observed there that Lacan's theory of schizophrenia offered a 'suggestive aesthetic model' for understanding the fragmenting of subjectivity in the face of the emerging entertainment-industrial complex. 'With the breakdown of the signifying chain', Jameson summarized, 'the Lacanian schizophrenic is reduced to an experience of pure material signifiers, or, in other words, a series of pure and unrelated presents in time'. Jameson was writing in the late 1980s - i.e. the period in which most of my students were born. What we in the classroom are now facing is a generation born into that ahistorical, anti-mnemonic blip culture - a generation, that is to say, for whom time has always come ready-cut into digital micro-slices. If the figure of discipline was the worker-prisoner, the figure of control is the debtor-addict. Cyberspatial capital operates by addicting its users; William Gibson recognized that in Neuromancer when he had Case and the other cyberspace cowboys feeling insects-under-the-skin strung out when they unplugged from the matrix (Case's amphetamine habit is plainly the substitute for an addiction to a far more abstract speed). If, then, something like attention deficit hyperactivity disorder is a pathology, it is a pathology of late capitalism - a consequence of being wired into the entertainment-control circuits of hypermediated consumer culture. Similarly, what is called dyslexia may in many cases amount to a post-lexia. Teenagers process capital's image-dense data very effectively without any need to read - slogan-recognition is sufficient to navigate the net-mobile-magazine informational plane. 'Writing has never been capitalism's thing. Capitalism is profoundly illiterate', Deleuze and Guattari argued in Anti-Oedipus. 'Electric language does not go by way of the voice or writing: data processing does without them both'. Hence the reason that many successful business people are dyslexic (but is their post-lexical efficiency a cause or effect of their success?) Teachers are now put under intolerable pressure to mediate between the post-literate subjectivity of the late capitalist consumer and the demands of the disciplinary regime (to pass examinations etc). This is one way in which education, far from being in some ivory tower safely inured from the 'real world', is the engine room of the reproduction of social reality, directly confronting the inconsistencies of the capitalist social field. Teachers are caught between being facilitator-entertainers and disciplinarian-authoritarians. Teachers want to help students to pass the exams; they want us to be authority figures who tell them what to do. Teachers being interpellated by students as authority figures exacerbates the 'boredom' problem, since isn't anything that comes from the place of authority a priori boring? Ironically, the role of disciplinarian is demanded of educators more than ever at precisely the time when disciplinary structures are breaking down in institutions. With families buckling under the pressure of a capitalism which requires both parents to work, teachers are now increasingly required to act as surrogate parents, instilling the most basic behavioral protocols in students and providing pastoral and emotional support for teenagers who are in some cases only minimally socialized. It is worth stressing that none of the students I taught had any legal obligation to be at college. They could leave if they wanted to. But the lack of any meaningful employment opportunities, together with cynical encouragement from government means that college seems to be the easier, safer option. Deleuze says that Control societies are based on debt rather than enclosure; but there is a way in which the current education system both indebts and encloses students. Pay for your own exploitation, the logic insists - get into debt so you can get the same Mcjob you could have walked into if you'd left school at sixteen... Jameson observed that 'the breakdown of temporality suddenly releases [the] present of time from all the activities and intentionalities that might focus it and make it a space of praxis'. But nostalgia for the context in which the old types of praxis operated is plainly useless. That is why French students don't in the end constitute an alternative to British reflexive impotence. That the neoliberal Economist would deride French opposition to capitalism is hardly surprising, yet its mockery of French 'immobilization' had a point. 'Certainly the students who kicked off the latest protests seemed to think they were re-enacting the events of May 1968 their parents sprang on Charles de Gaulle', it wrote in its lead article of March 30, 2006. They have borrowed its slogans ('Beneath the cobblestones, the beach!') and hijacked its symbols (the Sorbonne university). In this sense, the revolt appears to be the natural sequel to [2005]'s suburban riots, which prompted the government to impose a state of emergency. Then it was the jobless, ethnic underclass that rebelled against a system that excluded them. Yet the striking feature of the latest protest movement is that this time the rebellious forces are on the side of conservatism. Unlike the rioting youths in the banlieues, the objective of the students and public-sector trade unions is to prevent change, and to keep France the way it is. It's striking how the practice of many of the immobilizers is a kind of inversion of that of another group who also count themselves heirs of 68: the so called 'liberal communists' such as George Soros and Bill Gates who combine rapacious pursuit of profit with the rhetoric of ecological concern and social responsibility. Alongside their social concern, liberal communists believe that work practices should be (post) modernized, in line with the concept of 'being smart'. As Žižek explains, Being smart means being dynamic and nomadic, and against centralized bureaucracy; believing in dialogue and co-operation as against central authority; in flexibility as against routine; culture and knowledge as against industrial production; in spontaneous interaction and autopoiesis as against fixed hierarchy. Taken together, the immobilizers, with their implicit concession that capitalism can only be resisted, never overcome, and the liberal communists, who maintain that the amoral excesses of capitalism must be offset by charity, give a sense of the way in which capitalist realism circumscribes current political possibilities. Whereas the immobilizers retain the form of 68-style protest but in the name of resistance to change, liberal communists energetically embrace newness. Žižek is right to argue that, far from constituting any kind of progressive corrective to official capitalist ideology, liberal communism constitutes the dominant ideology of capitalism now. 'Flexibility', 'nomadism' and 'spontaneity' are the very hallmarks of management in a post-Fordist, Control society. But the problem is that any opposition to flexibility and decentralization risks being self-defeating, since calls for inflexibility and centralization are, to say the least, not likely to be very galvanizing. In any case, resistance to the 'new' is not a cause that the left can or should rally around. Capital thought very carefully about how to break labor; yet there has still not yet been enough thought about what tactics will work against capital in conditions of post-Fordism, and what new language can be innovated to deal with those conditions. It is important to contest capitalism's appropriation of 'the new', but to reclaim the 'new' can't be a matter of adapting to the conditions in which we find ourselves - we've done that rather too well, and 'successful adaptation' is the strategy of managerialism par excellence. The persistent association of neoliberalism with the term 'Restoration', favored by both Badiou and David Harvey, is an important corrective to the association of capital with novelty. For Harvey and Badiou, neoliberal politics are not about the new, but a return of class power and privilege. '[I]n France,' Badiou has said, "Restoration' refers to the period of the return of the King, in 1815, after the Revolution and Napoleon. We are in such a period. Today we see liberal capitalism and its political system, parliamentarianism, as the only natural and acceptable solutions'. Harvey argues that neoliberalization is best conceived of as a 'political project to re-establish the conditions for capital accumulation and to restore the power of economic elites'. Harvey demonstrates that, in an era popularly described as 'post-political', class war has continued to be fought, but only by one side: the wealthy. 'After the implementation of neoliberal policies in the late 1970s,' Harvey reveals, the share of national income of the top 1 per cent of income earners soared, to reach 15 per cent ... by the end of the century. The top 0.1 per cent of income earners in the US increased their share of the national income from 2 per cent in 1978 to over 6 per cent by 1999, while the ratio of the median compensation of workers to the salaries of CEOs increased from just over 30 to 1 in 1970 to nearly 500 to 1 by 2000.... The US is not alone in this: the top 1 per cent of income earners in Britain have doubled their share of the national income from 6.5 per cent to 13 per cent since 1982. As Harvey shows, neoliberals were more Leninist than the Leninists, using think-tanks as the intellectual vanguard to create the ideological climate in which capitalist realism could flourish. The immobilization model - which amounts to a demand to retain the Fordist/disciplinary regime - could not work in Britain or the other countries in which neoliberalism has already taken a hold. Fordism has definitively collapsed in Britain, and with it the sites around which the old politics were organized. At the end of the control essay, Deleuze wonders what new forms an anti-control politics might take: One of the most important questions will concern the ineptitude of the unions: tied to the whole of their history of struggle against the disciplines or within the spaces of enclosure, will they be able to adapt themselves or will they give way to new forms of resistance against the societies of control? Can we already grasp the rough outlines of the coming forms, capable of threatening the joys of marketing? Many young people strangely boast of being "motivated"; they re-request apprenticeships and permanent training. It's up to them to discover what they're being made to serve, just as their elders discovered, not without difficulty, the telos of the disciplines. What must be discovered is a way out of the motivation/ demotivation binary, so that disidentification from the control program registers as something other than dejected apathy. One strategy would be to shift the political terrain - to move away from the unions' traditional focus on pay and onto forms of discontent specific to post-Fordism.

Mark Fisher, Capitalist Realism

[jacewilliams1]

Factory Firm Foundations: The Use of Micropiles in Machine Installation

It’s a difficult decision: should I repair the broken machine in my factory or replace it? It really needs to be replaced, but I can’t afford the downtime. Besides, I don’t want to mess with the entire foundation or damage any of the other machines around it. Read on to find out how micropiles are the solution!

  Our goal at TEI is to utilize new technologies to create stronger, safer foundations worldwide – including our own. At our 28,000 square foot facility in beautiful Montrose, Colorado, our process is ISO 9001:2015 certified and we do everything by the book – except think. When it comes to thinking, brainstorming, coming up with innovative ideas, we throw the book away completely. Our engineers are continually finding creative and efficient new ways to solve old problems.

 TEI rock drills are highly regarded and sought-after all over the world for a variety of complex and interesting projects. Brokk’s demolition robots fitted with our TE160 hydraulic drifters help to reduce operator fatigue and allow access to tightly confined spaces, for example. Our equipment has been used to install ground loops for geothermal heat pumps, and for various applications by the US Military. TEI rock drills were used in the creation of the Solana Solar Generation Plant in Arizona, the Panama Canal expansion project, and the ongoing construction of Crazy Horse Monument in South Dakota. Not to mention thousands of road construction, building construction, demolition, tunneling, mining, and rock quarry projects from Canada to New Zealand since we built our first drill in 1980.

 But what does a company like TEI do when we need to work on our own foundation? Who doctors the doctor? Who teaches the teacher?

 A few years ago, when a CNC (Computer Numerical Control) machine in our factory needed to be replaced, we knew the best way to ensure a solid foundation was by using our own equipment to install micropiles. It worked so well that we’ve done it five times since, and plan on doing so again.

 We rely on CNC machines, such as milling machines and lathes, to accurately and efficiently assist in creating our powerful precision drills. These machines can weigh in excess of 30,000 pounds and are in motion much of the time – motion that can potentially vibrate the machine out of place if installed incorrectly. An unsuitable foundation is guaranteed to cause leveling and alignment issues, rapidly deteriorate spindle bearings, ball screws, and other machine parts as well as overall machine life, and contribute to final product inaccuracy.

 The necessity to replace our machinery comes around often, as we upgrade our equipment quite regularly. Most recently, we purchased a CMM, or Coordinate Measuring Machine, for purposes of quality control. This big, heavy machine needs to be installed according to very exact specifications in order to ensure its accuracy. Depending on who you ask, there are a few different options for doing this in a pre-existing space.

 The most widely-used option would be to completely gut the floor structure and then pour a very thick (think feet – not inches) layer of concrete. This can take a few days, and in a factory setting where time is money, this is an expensive option. You also run the risk of the concrete moving or cracking; even the smallest air pocket can lead to disaster. This is often countered with the addition of a large steel plate or several smaller ones to spread the load, but steel slides on steel and will create more problems over time.

 Installing micropiles in this situation will alleviate all of these issues. It’s quick and unobtrusive. Downtime is minimal. And your foundation will last for many years without breaking down.

 “Cement can move, piles will stay,” says Bob Foreman, TEI’s Service Manager. “The key is to figure out exactly where the feet of the machine will sit and put piles in those strategic locations. Then you don’t end up with a great deal of stress on just a little bit of surface of the cement.”

 Micropiles – sometimes referred to as minipiles, pin piles, needle piles, and root piles – are extremely durable elements used in the construction and maintenance of deep foundations for many structures, and to prevent or control ground degradation due to normal wear-and-tear as well as disturbances such as earthquakes and landslides.

 Composed of high-strength, small-diameter steel casing and/or threaded bar, rebar, and grout, micropiles can range in diameter from 3-12 inches, extend to depths of 200 feet, and achieve compressive capacities of over 500 tons depending upon the size used and the soil profile.

 For the majority of building and repair projects, conditions are not ideal. Often, soil is not just soil: it’s mixed with construction debris or contains many different sizes and types of rock. Dense layers can be found over thinner, weaker layers. If other structures are close by, the ground may be unstable, or access could be limited. In these and other variable conditions, micropiles are a cost-effective solution to strengthen a deteriorating foundation or lay a new one.

 There are different kinds of piles suited for specific needs. Generally, an all-thread reinforcing bar is inserted into the micropile casing and then cement grout is pumped inside while drilling. This simultaneous drilling and grouting technique, called the injection bored method, is unique in that smaller equipment can be used, often at lower cost, and access to tighter working spaces is possible.

 The finished micropile enhances stability by transferring the load to more competent ground, or in rocky areas, to the rock itself. It’s much quicker and quieter than other techniques, it is completely vertical and therefore less obtrusive, and it’s adaptable to many different kinds of equipment.

 “Micropiles have allowed us to place and replace our machinery without constantly having to modify our building’s foundation,” shares Glenn Patterson, TEI’s Vice President and International Sales Manager. “Different load sizes are required for the various sizes of machines used in manufacturing. Exclusively using the hollow bar injection method means we are able to design each set of piles specific to each individual machine and allows us to keep our factory operational during the installation process.”

 Correct installation is every bit as critical as correct selection of machines for your factory or machine shop, whether you’re building a brand-new facility or retrofitting an old one. For a machine to perform successfully, the foundation on which it rests must be precise. There can be no compromises. As you can see, installing micropiles with TEI drills is the best way to do this.

  The post Factory Firm Foundations: The Use of Micropiles in Machine Installation appeared first on TEI Rock Drills.

from https://teirockdrills.com/micropiles-factory-firm-foundations/

from Engineering Blog http://teirockdrills1.weebly.com/blog/factory-firm-foundations-the-use-of-micropiles-in-machine-installation

[frankmiller1]

Factory Firm Foundations: The Use of Micropiles in Machine Installation

It’s a difficult decision: should I repair the broken machine in my factory or replace it? It really needs to be replaced, but I can’t afford the downtime. Besides, I don’t want to mess with the entire foundation or damage any of the other machines around it. Read on to find out how micropiles are the solution!

  Our goal at TEI is to utilize new technologies to create stronger, safer foundations worldwide – including our own. At our 28,000 square foot facility in beautiful Montrose, Colorado, our process is ISO 9001:2015 certified and we do everything by the book – except think. When it comes to thinking, brainstorming, coming up with innovative ideas, we throw the book away completely. Our engineers are continually finding creative and efficient new ways to solve old problems.

 TEI rock drills are highly regarded and sought-after all over the world for a variety of complex and interesting projects. Brokk’s demolition robots fitted with our TE160 hydraulic drifters help to reduce operator fatigue and allow access to tightly confined spaces, for example. Our equipment has been used to install ground loops for geothermal heat pumps, and for various applications by the US Military. TEI rock drills were used in the creation of the Solana Solar Generation Plant in Arizona, the Panama Canal expansion project, and the ongoing construction of Crazy Horse Monument in South Dakota. Not to mention thousands of road construction, building construction, demolition, tunneling, mining, and rock quarry projects from Canada to New Zealand since we built our first drill in 1980.

 But what does a company like TEI do when we need to work on our own foundation? Who doctors the doctor? Who teaches the teacher?

 A few years ago, when a CNC (Computer Numerical Control) machine in our factory needed to be replaced, we knew the best way to ensure a solid foundation was by using our own equipment to install micropiles. It worked so well that we’ve done it five times since, and plan on doing so again.

 We rely on CNC machines, such as milling machines and lathes, to accurately and efficiently assist in creating our powerful precision drills. These machines can weigh in excess of 30,000 pounds and are in motion much of the time – motion that can potentially vibrate the machine out of place if installed incorrectly. An unsuitable foundation is guaranteed to cause leveling and alignment issues, rapidly deteriorate spindle bearings, ball screws, and other machine parts as well as overall machine life, and contribute to final product inaccuracy.

 The necessity to replace our machinery comes around often, as we upgrade our equipment quite regularly. Most recently, we purchased a CMM, or Coordinate Measuring Machine, for purposes of quality control. This big, heavy machine needs to be installed according to very exact specifications in order to ensure its accuracy. Depending on who you ask, there are a few different options for doing this in a pre-existing space.

 The most widely-used option would be to completely gut the floor structure and then pour a very thick (think feet – not inches) layer of concrete. This can take a few days, and in a factory setting where time is money, this is an expensive option. You also run the risk of the concrete moving or cracking; even the smallest air pocket can lead to disaster. This is often countered with the addition of a large steel plate or several smaller ones to spread the load, but steel slides on steel and will create more problems over time.

 Installing micropiles in this situation will alleviate all of these issues. It’s quick and unobtrusive. Downtime is minimal. And your foundation will last for many years without breaking down.

 “Cement can move, piles will stay,” says Bob Foreman, TEI’s Service Manager. “The key is to figure out exactly where the feet of the machine will sit and put piles in those strategic locations. Then you don’t end up with a great deal of stress on just a little bit of surface of the cement.”

 Micropiles – sometimes referred to as minipiles, pin piles, needle piles, and root piles – are extremely durable elements used in the construction and maintenance of deep foundations for many structures, and to prevent or control ground degradation due to normal wear-and-tear as well as disturbances such as earthquakes and landslides.

 Composed of high-strength, small-diameter steel casing and/or threaded bar, rebar, and grout, micropiles can range in diameter from 3-12 inches, extend to depths of 200 feet, and achieve compressive capacities of over 500 tons depending upon the size used and the soil profile.

 For the majority of building and repair projects, conditions are not ideal. Often, soil is not just soil: it’s mixed with construction debris or contains many different sizes and types of rock. Dense layers can be found over thinner, weaker layers. If other structures are close by, the ground may be unstable, or access could be limited. In these and other variable conditions, micropiles are a cost-effective solution to strengthen a deteriorating foundation or lay a new one.

 There are different kinds of piles suited for specific needs. Generally, an all-thread reinforcing bar is inserted into the micropile casing and then cement grout is pumped inside while drilling. This simultaneous drilling and grouting technique, called the injection bored method, is unique in that smaller equipment can be used, often at lower cost, and access to tighter working spaces is possible.

 The finished micropile enhances stability by transferring the load to more competent ground, or in rocky areas, to the rock itself. It’s much quicker and quieter than other techniques, it is completely vertical and therefore less obtrusive, and it’s adaptable to many different kinds of equipment.

 “Micropiles have allowed us to place and replace our machinery without constantly having to modify our building’s foundation,” shares Glenn Patterson, TEI’s Vice President and International Sales Manager. “Different load sizes are required for the various sizes of machines used in manufacturing. Exclusively using the hollow bar injection method means we are able to design each set of piles specific to each individual machine and allows us to keep our factory operational during the installation process.”

 Correct installation is every bit as critical as correct selection of machines for your factory or machine shop, whether you’re building a brand-new facility or retrofitting an old one. For a machine to perform successfully, the foundation on which it rests must be precise. There can be no compromises. As you can see, installing micropiles with TEI drills is the best way to do this.

  The post Factory Firm Foundations: The Use of Micropiles in Machine Installation appeared first on TEI Rock Drills.

source https://teirockdrills.com/micropiles-factory-firm-foundations/ from Engineering https://teirockdrills.blogspot.com/2019/03/factory-firm-foundations-use-of.html