#will burn calories and be good for my knee + back if i'm careful | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

getrektfools · 2 years ago

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vent, kind of fatshaming, super long

so there are now TWO morbidly obese members of my family I'm aware of who have prescribed wegovy or ozempic. you can ONLY be prescribed these drugs once you are clinically obese. obviously they need the help but please explain to me why my brother - unemployed, literally sits on the couch playing video games all day (10+ hours a day!!!) gets to just get a shot to melt the weight off. when i hit the overweight threshold and wanted to stop gaining/drop back into a normal weight, all i get told is to monitor my calories more closely. the weight gain already had me flirting with relapse, then i find out the heaviest in my family are getting drugs thrown at them to drop weight and I'm being told "just keep an eye on your calorie count". The guy you just prescribed weight loss drugs to? He ate an ENTIRE FAMILY SIZE BAG OF CHIPS on top of his actual meals!! Plus ice cream before bed! All in the same day!! Only got up to go from couch to bathroom or couch to kitchen. But I, 3 lbs overweight, runner, regular gym goer, recently recovered anorexic, better just work harder.

when my mom told me her doctor was starting her on ozempic I said "god i wish i could get on it just long enough to lose 8 pounds or so" and she tells me "oh there are other things you should try first" so why don't these obese fucks try those other things? like you weren't screaming yelling at me in the hospital because you were so angry at me for doing this to myself. i am extremely capable of those "other things." I am probably TOO capable of those "other things." Those "other things" are addictive to me.

during this conversation, she's eating a double serving of fruit dumplings with literally a quarter cup of sugar in her coffee. two or three cups every morning. she could just swap for diet sweetener and cut out 400-600 cals a day! a pound a week in just the sugar in her morning coffee!!! when she visits me she just sits on my couch watching movies. i'll plan activities but inevitably it's too hot out, too windy out, too far away. can't we just order in from that restaurant she likes and rent a movie? there's an awesome park with several restaurants .8 mile from my house, i like to walk there and pick up lunch from a restaurant and picnic by the pond when weather and schedule allow. can't do that with my mom, she gets completely out of breath and her knees hurt. we have to drive. not even a mile and we have to drive. shared fitbit data with my sister for a while (also fat but nowhere near mom or baby brother), and she was averaging only 800 steps a day! a day!

obviously its better for society at large to have fitter citizenry, and i want my family to be healthier, but. feels like they are being rewarded for their absolute lack of self control. Eat yourself into three of you? Here's a shot to burn fat. Can't expect you to put down the chips! Meanwhile the rest of us who have actually exercised self control (too much self control in ana/mia cases) throughout our lives get told "no shortcuts! work harder! you don't get help!"

i know it isn't rational but this is how i feel. i am glad they are getting medical support to lose weight, because i want them to be around for a long time. i want to be able to walk to the park with my family. i want them to have the energy and ability to do things beside sit on the couch. i want them to be able to play volleyball with me or actually SWIM when we go to the beach. I want them to be able to take their dogs on regular, good length walks!

also obviously i am tempted to try and steal few pens of the wegovy but i won't do that to him. i can lose weight on my own. but god is it tempting. he's almost definitely not going to follow any diet recommended or increase his activity level, so its kind of like, a waste of perfectly useful medication isn't it? maybe he'll surprise me. maybe this is the boost he needs to start taking care of himself a little better. small changes add up, after all.

in a sick way this is motivating me to push myself even harder - lose more weight , faster. prove i don't need it.

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nathank77 · 3 months ago

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11/28/24

3:20 p.m

So they compromised and let me sit in the front seat.. cause Riley was in the back. Mom and Liv sat in back. I still have anxiety about it. I was a ghost at the table.

I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't make eye contact except a few times with my mom bc she talked directly to me.

I spoke only when I was spoken to directly which was hardly. Skye told me we are going to do the Christmas tree at dad's house Sundays so yay. That's the only time she spoke to me. So awesome I can't go to the gym Sunday. My 13 years on testosterone is Saturday and I was going to do machine day at the gym tomorrow and have a red bull day Saturday and then do leg day on Sunday. Guess I can't even celebrate my Testosterone date unless I want to take 500 days off from the gym... I already didn't go Monday, Tuesday and Thursday aka today. And if I don't go Saturday, I can't go Sunday..... so you know just 500 vacation days.... I guess fuck it. I can't celebrate it really anyways. No one cares and no one is going to celebrate it with me. So I'll go do leg day and then take a full Xanax to sleep that night so I sleep and can make it to my dad's house.

I don't want to take 500 vacation days from the gym. The entire car ride all I could think about besides for wanting to end my life bc I was a ghost and I can't stand being around people who would chose everything over me and my health. Including rapidly killing a dog bc obviously we don't have the money to take good care of her.

I can't forgive them for chosing her over me when they aren't even chosing her.

I just thought about what i can do at the gym tomorrow. My forearm is almost 100% it prob never will be considering it has tennis elbow.. 4 back machines that target the biceps. 3 chest machines that target the triceps as well. And instead of doing the shoulder machines since they also target the triceps and it'll be 6 triceps workouts if I do them too, I can do 3 dumbbell shoulder exercises, the lateral raises, the frontal raises and the dumbbell shrug which should put no pressue on my biceps or forearms bc there is no bending. I'll only be bending for the chest and back machines.... I wanted to do this one dumbbell exercises for my chest that works my triceps too but I'll just do 4 biceps/back, 3 chest and triceps/ and 3 shoulders to try to play it safe and see how I feel.

I started planning what ab workouts I'm going to do tomorrow, seated knee tucks, the bicycle crunches, crunches and one crunch machine instead of the other one where you use your obliques... only cause I did that twice over my last two workouts and I want to switch it up. I'm going to add in one more laying down mat one once I figure out what I'm comfortable with since I'm getting no ab pain.

That's all I could think about in the car and at the table bc I mean everything else was they don't care about your health at all. My sister brought up her thyriod and a diet and how being hyper she's going to lose all this weight. I wanted to vomit. Just hearing her talk about her thyriod. Bc no one cares about mine.

I thought about my dream where I touched Riley and kept talking about needing to wash my hands and clothes and I was freaking out trying to tell skye and liv how distressed I was... and I lost my voice i started sqeaking and then my voice was gone bc no one cares or listens to me.

The food generally sucked bc it was cold by the time it got to the table it was a buffet.... and I mean I just ate fuck tons of stuffing and worried about calories. And ate some dessert... and convinced myself I'll be at the gym burning it all off anyways.

My pants fit better. They don't squeeze my waist anymore. Funny bc I'm not losing weight on the scale. I'm maintaining but I guess my fat is getting converted to muscle. I feel good about that.

Either way I'm really depressed about the whole thing. About being a ghost. That i can't watch Christmas movies with my mom or spend any time with her bc of stupid Riley. That no one cares about my health.

Two songs came on in the car, one from home alone and one from Christmas with the kranks and I usually watch those movies with mom every year. Well I can't cause you know fucking Riley lives here and she means more to them than i do. That made me depressed.

Beyond that I got wicked post nasal drip I keep telling my body if I get sick I'm killing myself I'm too fucking sick with this god awful hallucination. If I get covid or the flu or a cold that Allegra can't fix the symptoms I'm ending it..I'm too sick to deal with being more miserable. I'm too sick to deal with the anxiety of spending money. And im too fucking poor.

And I'm anxiuos about my last three cucumbers, they have a weird black raised spot on each of them... and my baby carrots having black lines on them... so who knows if I'll eat tonight

And I just want to die. I showed up and didn't really exist. I only spoke when spoken too. Usually I'd be talking a lot. Why should I talk? I'm not really worth the money or the plate. I said to skye i know I'm only going out of obligation and you guys would rather have me be dead than have Riley be in the crate for one holiday. This was over text.

So yea I want to jump off at bridge bc now I can't even have my red bull day bc I got to have random you're going to dad's house thrown at me and now i can't fucking celebrate my t day. But I mean it wouldn't have been fun anyways bc well I can't play anything I want to play bc stupid Riley barks and whines constantly bc she's fucking awful.

So it would have just been minecraft bc kids won't care when she barks randomly. But adults care when they watch serious gameplay and I care.. even if I wasn't recording, it fucking ruins the immersion. And I guess I got to go to the gym Saturday otherwise I'm going to have to wait until Monday... and technically yea I can hit 4 days at the gym skipping Saturday for my t day and Sunday for my dad's... but then I got to pack them all into Monday through Sunday.... and you know my arms get sore.

My tennis elbow is an issue and the only thing I can do for it is strengthen it and also going easy on it.

Either way it was great shitting on the floor today and having to clean it off the floor and having to worry about the barrell touching my pants forever. And having none of my family give a fuck about my thyriod or my health and Riley being more important than me as usual.

I think I'm going to do it Saturday.

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dasha-aibo · 1 year ago

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Well, alrighty then

Been stewing in this for a while, didn't want to make waves, but eh, this blog is all about making waves, so fuck it.

This whole topic. This one big debacle, that's been slowly becoming one of the most culturaly important divisions in our society is really, really complicated and I see very few people treat it with a sane clear head.

And I'm not one of those few, because I'm a complete basket case, but I will try my best anyway.

So we have a situation. The average waist size of people all over the world has started to grow. Multiple factors are behind this. We're living more sedentary lives. We can afford to do way less manual labor. We use transportation, public and personal, to get around instead of our two feet. We have an absolute abundance of foods and our monkey brains are still programmed to eat the easiest sources of fat and carbs around.

The problem here is that severe obesity is actually very-very bad for you. And losing weight, while very simple, is decidedly hard.

The society, those who care, at least, split into two big camps. The fat haters and the fat actvists.

And by God, do I hate both of them.

Fat activists realized that our society is simpy not built for fat people. Booths and chairs are too small. Clothes don't fit right. Stairs are way too prevalent. And all of this compounds into a situation where fat people have a hard time simply existing in the world.

Now, these are legitimate complaints. Some of them even ring back to disability advocacy, which are legitimate issues on their own. However, fat activists is that in the middle of all this, chose to ignore that weight loss, while hard, is entirely possible. If you don't have a leg, well, you're not gonna grow another one. And even a prosthetic will have limitations. But if you're obese, you can 100% lose weight and rejoin the ranks of non-obese.

Fat haters noticed that contradiction and went "well, that just means fat people are lazy and it's alright for me to abuse them!".

And I'm sitting in the middle of all of this banging my head against my table.

Weight loss is not easy. It's simple, but not easy. To lose weight, you need to be in a caloric deficit. What' the right caloric deficit for you? Who knows, good luck figuring that out. Good luck also figuring out a daily diet that will not drive you insane, bankrupt or permanently damage some of your organs. It fucking sucks.

Oh and don't get me started how no one gets abuse because their life is good. To overeat daily to the point you're so obese it starts to impact your life is not trivial. Your body is stupid-effective at burning calories. People regularly overeat even when they're satiated because there's either something wrong with their heads or their lives. Or both.

So no, you can't make anyone lose weight just by yelling at them to eat less donuts.

But also fat people clearly can't keep living this. I'm fat, it's fucking hard. Past your 30s, your body begins to buckle under the strain. All this fat compressess your heart, compressess your other organs, messess with your endocrine system, the damage to your poor knees, oh my GOD, my poor knee...

And nobody makes it any fucking easier.

Diet culture is bullshit. Screaming at fat people is bullshit. Accepting you're just fat and giving up is just slow suicide.

Can we all just... Have a little empathy while also just being realistic?

Take care of yourself. And of people around you.

Who wants to hear me rant about fatphobia, weight loss and the general culture surroudning extra weight?

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frenziedslashers · 3 years ago

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#11. “give me your worst pick-up line," “you're my everything, you're my rock, and you wanna know something? you harden my cock”

for bo? 💀

warning: Mentions of alcohol, cheesy pick up lines, cursing, that's about it

Valentines Day Prompt: “give me your worst pick-up line," “you're my everything, you're my rock, and you wanna know something? you harden my cock”

Bo telling his future S/O cheesy pick-up lines:

The two of you were buzzed, celebrating a holiday that neither of you really cared for with booze. Something that most did, but the two of you didn't really have any sexual intentions in mind with it like many did. You both were just sort of lounging around after a rather draining kill. The two of you alone killing three kids each. It was a car pool of sorts, and it had your limbs aching from the abuse you took from the fighters.

"Y'know any pick-up lines?" Bo asked you from the couch. He was sprawled out on it, his head resting on the arm rest. One foot on the ground, the other stretched across the couch. One arm behind his head, the other on his chest. He was looking up to you, who was sitting on a chair that you nabbed from the kitchen. Your front pressed against the back of it, your arms folding on top of the back rest so you could rest your chin on them.

"Any pick-up lines?" You repeated, taking a swig of your beer with a grin and a soft chuckle at his smirk and nod. "Yeah, 'm bored and ah have a few m'self." He smiled with a sigh, thinking. "Are you a motorcycle? 'Cause I'd straddle you." He snickered at your words, shaking his head a bit. "That's a good one." He thought for a second. "Okay, okay, m'turn, babes." He hummed, tapping his fingers on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. "Did you sit in a pile of sugar? 'Cause that ass is sweet." You rolled your eyes, which only elicited a giggle from his lips.

"Alright, your turn," He told you, obviously enjoying this, though you noticed a mischievous grin on his face. "Did ya happen to have a band-aid? 'Cause I scraped my knees fallin' for ya." You told him, raising a brow at his smirk. "'M not sure, I'd like to see ya on your knees again, though. As proof." He told you, and you scoffed, his flirting always caught you off guard. The two of you weren't exactly dating, but there was feelings there.

"What?" Bo asked with a grin. "Don't wanna get on your knees for me? 'M sure you'd look stunnin'," He winked, and you felt your heart thumping in your chest, taking another swig of your beer. "It's your turn, Bo." He shrugged with a sigh. Running his fingers through his hair. Taking this opportunity of pause to grab the bottle of whiskey from the table. Taking a swig of it. The beer not doing enough to loosen you up, needing the stronger stuff in attempts to fight the embarrassment that was coursing through you.

"Your body," He met your eyes, "It 70% water." He paused, licking his lips with a smirk, "And I'm thirsty, mind if I have a drink?" You chuckled, shaking your head, taking another swig of the whiskey before setting it back down. Wincing a bit at the pain as it stung at your throat. "I'm no gymnast, but I know a great way to burn off the calories in that drink." Your eyes darted from his beer back to his eyes. Watching his smile falter for a bit, before it came back. You swore you even saw his cheeks go pick. Watching him shift a bit in his spot.

"I tend to stay on top of things, would you care to be one of those things?" You smirked this time, and he swore his heart faltered, moving his leg on the floor onto the couch to prop it up. "I'd say sure, but I think I'd rather be on top of my problems, you being my biggest one." He gulped, shocked that you were even flirting back, his stupid idea actually working.

He cleared his throat, rubbing his jaw with a sigh, mumbling something under his breath as he thought, but he couldn't think, you giggling a bit. You were a bit thankful that you drank some of the whiskey. Your words rolling easier off your tongue. Standing from the chair to move to the couch. Throwing a leg over his waist to sit on his stomach. His eyes staring up at you with a hurtful gaze. A smirk resting on his lips. Hands moving to rest on your thighs, running up and down the flesh.

"Give me your worst pick-up line," he wet his lips, shifting under you anxiously. "What do I get in return?" You tapped his chest with a hum. "A kiss?" He chuckled, "good enough for me," He spoke, cleaning his throat again. "You're my everythin', you're my rock, but most importantly." His eyes watched his hands that ran up your thighs. Biting the inside of his cheek to fight his smile, sure that this had to be a dream. He couldn't have landed you with stupid pick-up lines. "You harden my cock," He finished, and you snorted, laughing above the man. Who only raised his brows with a grin. "What? You asked for my worst one!"

He moved again when your hands moved to meet his. "Alright, well, do I get that kiss." You shrugged, leaning down so your lips were merely ghosting over his. "My lips are like skittles, and you, Bo Sinclair, are about to taste the rainbow." And that he did. Your lips on his was like an explosion of flavor. Smelling your scent, the smell of your lip Balm, and even darting his lips out to taste it. A groan leaving his lips, sneering when you pulled back. "Wow." You murmured, and he smile. "Hmm, did I just, take your breath away?" He asked with a grin, and you chuckled, giving him another quick peck. "Maybe ya did." "You two better not be fucking right now, I get it's V-Day 'n' all," Lester spoke from the entrance with a sigh. "But you asked me to come over and bring more beer," Lester reminded his brother, who was cursing now when you climbed off him to run over to Lester to grab the case. "We were just gonna watch a movie, you wanna join us?" You invited Lester, to which he agreed. Especially when you told him to help himself to the food in the fridge.

Leave it to Bo Sinclair to get cock blocked on Valentines Day.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #house of wax #slasher x reader #the house of wax

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rhetoricalrogue · 2 years ago

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So! Last month’s habit of getting up early to have a calmer morning and to be early and/or on time for work has stuck, which means I’m moving on to building a new habit. One of my work friends was selling a slightly used Apple Watch because she got an upgrade and didn’t have any use for her older one, and I’ve used the past two weeks as a baseline for how many steps I take per day. I like the accountability and the fact that there's reminders to stand up and move around every hour. I’m ignoring the active calories burned ring because that’s a slippery slope to falling back on some unhealthy habits that took me forever to unlearn, but overall, I really like it.

February’s habit is going to be to move more. I'm not setting a big goal of 10,000 steps per day by the end of the month or walking a 5K every day, just a conscious effort to move more throughout the day. I have a bad ankle and knee that the cold weather is making flare up, so doing anything super ambitious feels like it's a one way ticket to Injury Town, but getting up to walk around the building on good weather days several times during the workday and then going on evening walks around the apartment complex doesn't feel like it would be too much to work on this month.

Things I learned from/appreciated last month:

Set Future!Me up for success instead of failure. Picking what I wanted to wear, setting out skincare items on the bathroom counter, and placing whatever bowls and utensils I need for breakfast out in the kitchen really helped. I’m still groggy and trying to wake up, but having a system in place so I don’t have to think while my brain is sluggish helped tremendously.

Plan the morning out. Even if it was a quick 5 minute “okay, so what’s first on my plate when I get into work?” self-reminder, it was helpful to go into the office with a game plan on how the morning was going to go. Did the mornings always go the way I planned? No, but it was nice to have a tether point for “okay so Things Happened, but once I take care of them, these are still the things I need to accomplish in my work day.” It kept me focused and cut down on feeling as overwhelmed and overloaded.

GOING HOME ON TIME. Not being late to work and having to make up time almost every day has been a HUGE difference! Having time in the evenings to actually relax before prepping for the next day has been so nice! Even if I didn't do anything but hang out and watch random stuff or scroll my phone, it was great to consistently go home at a set time and leave work at work.

Sleep schedules have clicked! Having a set time to go to bed so I can wake up rested means that by the end of the month, I was starting to get tired without even looking at what time it was and was pretty much either 10 minutes early before my alert to start shutting things down for the night went off or right on time. I also bought Izzy a cozy cat bed which she prefers 9 times out of 10 than climbing up in bed with me so while it may be weird not being bunny kicked to the middle of the bed at night, it also is nice to actually sleep throughout the night instead of getting woken up for 3 am zoomies and getting my spleen stepped on when a certain furry little roommate decides to run over me instead of moving around.

I'm hoping that this month's habit will pave the way for the one I have planned in March, but I'm going to be patient with myself and not push anything too ambitious. This year is the year that I take things as they come instead of stressing myself out over self-imposed perfection.

#Issa's theme of the year is new year new habits

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blackkatmagic · 4 years ago

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*g* Picture Hardcase slipping out of Obi-wan's rooms in the AM only to run right into Cody and Boil who habitually take a stroll past Obi-wan's room just to make sure the man is actually sleeping and not overworking himself. It's just- Hardcase: O_O!!! Hi? and Cody is: O_O?!? -__-;;; and Boil is like: Well at least we know he didn't spend the whole night doing paperwork? Hardcase, physically unable to keep his mouth shut with an opening like that: Nope, just me!

There's nothing in Hardcase that actually wants to get up. He’s warm and the bed is reasonably soft and Obi-Wan is a heavy weight across his back, one knee slotted between his thighs. The prickle of his beard between Hardcase’s shoulder blades is almost too much sensation, shivering down Hardcase’s spine with a bright-sharp hum of overused nerves. He’s sore and blissed-out and feels good, but—

Hardcase checks the time and groans in protest at the universe at large, then starts wriggling out from under Obi-Wan’s weight.

Instantly, there's a sound of protest against his skin, a slide of hands down his body to grip his hips, and Obi-Wan turns his head, presses a sleepy, open-mouthed kiss to his shoulder. “Mm, Hardcase, stay,” he manages, muffled but mostly conscious. His hands tighten, and he curls himself over Hardcase’s back, kissing the nape of his neck. “Morning round?”

Hardcase groans, shutting his eyes. Obi-Wan’s hands are right over what are probably bruises from last night, and the press of his mouth and the semi he can feel against his ass in combination with that is almost enough to make him drop back to the mattress. But he’s on duty in less than an hour, and he needs to use the ‘fresher, and he needs to eat because karking hells did they burn a lot of calories last night.

“Shift,” he manages, and promptly whines when Obi-Wan kisses a hicky that’s already blooming bright and over sensitive on his neck. “General.”

Obi-Wan makes a polite sound of indignation, burying his face in the curve of Hardcase’s shoulder. “Unless you mean you want to explore our roleplay options, Hardcase, please don’t call me that in bed.”

Hardcase laughs, wiggles, shifts, and finally manages to drag himself out from under Obi-Wan. It’s a sad sacrifice made in the name of duty. “Just reminding you that you're supposed to care about if I'm at my post or not.”

Obi-Wan snorts, rolling over onto his back. The blanket is tangled around his thighs, and his chest is all lean muscle and scars. Hardcase can't help but hesitate, eyeing the cut of his hipbones. They’d be perfect for Hardcase to sit down on and take himself for a ride.

Instantly, Obi-Wan groans and tosses an arm over his eyes. “Hardcase,” he protests. “Keep thinking like that and I’ll be tempted to comm us both in sick.”

Hardcase snickers, crouching down to find his blacks. “Kix would break down the door,” he tells Obi-Wan with confidence.

“You say that as though it’s a deterrent,” Obi-Wan says, but there's humor in the curve of his mouth, bright in blue eyes as he tips his arm to look at Hardcase. “All right?”

“Best I've been in months,” Hardcase says cheerfully, and finally finds his undersuit beneath the table. He has a new fondness for that table. They had a lot of fun with it last night. “You?”

“Quite brilliant,” Obi-Wan says, pleased, and watches him pull his blacks on with quiet appreciation. “I think that was the best aftermath of a mission I've had all war.”

Hardcase grins, practically giddy with it, and leans over the bed to kiss him. The beard takes some getting used to, but Hardcase has found a new of fondness for that, too. Not that he was ever not fond of it. Obi-Wan is sexy. Everyone with eyes can see that.

“Have to make it a habit, then,” he says, and Obi-Wan laughs a little, kissing him again. His thumb smooths across Hardcase’s jaw, up over the tattoo that curls across his skull, and he sighs, a contented sound. Contentment looks good on him, Hardcase thinks.

“I'm all in favor of that,” he says, smiling, and Hardcase can't resist the urge to kiss that smile, it’s so pretty.

“It’s a date,” he says, a little too loud, but Obi-Wan just chuckles, kisses the corner of his mouth, and lets go.

“That it is, my dear,” he agrees. “Off you go, leaving me to my cold bunk to languish without you.”

Hardcase snickers. “Want me waiting in it when you get done with your shift?” he asks, only partly joking. “Can wrap myself up with a bow and everything.”

“The best present,” Obi-Wan says, amused, and settles back. Hardcase makes himself straighten, step away, but it’s hard. He glances back at he ducks out the door, and Obi-Wan blows him a kiss that makes him laugh as he closes the door, then turns—

And practically runs face-first into Commander Cody and Boil.

Instantly, Hardcase freezes, because there's no possible way to hide what he was doing in Obi-Wan’s room. He’s got hickies up and down his neck, there's beard-burn on every visible inch of skin, and he’s probably walking a little bow-legged after all of Obi-Wan’s efforts to make him scream last night. The half-zipped undersuit definitely isn't helping things, but it feels way too late to pull the zipper up.

“Uh,” Hardcase says, and Cody and Boil are both staring at him, Cody disbelieving and Boil shocked. “Morning, Commander?”

“Hardcase,” Cody says after a long, long moment. “Rex was looking for you last night. He’ll be glad to know you're fine.”

“Better than fine,” Hardcase says, without consulting his brain first. “Er. Sir.”

Cody just looks pained.

“Well,” Boil says, after another long pause that has Hardcase sweating slugs. “At least the general wasn’t up all night doing paperwork.”

It’s a bad idea. It’s the worst idea. But Hardcase’s mouth has never had much of a pause between think and say, so as soon as the response arrives, Hardcase opens his mouth and blurts, “No, just me.”

He thinks he hears Obi-Wan laughing from behind the door, and there's no physical way to resist the urge to grin.

Boil grabs for him, intent to strangle written across his face, and Hardcase bolts.

[On AO3]

#my writing #lime #obihardcase #obi wan kenobi #clone trooper hardcase #clone trooper boil #commander cody #star wars #aniseandspearmint #kat answers

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sahbibabe · 5 years ago

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Hello! Hope you're having a wonderful day. I have a request, if that's okay with you. Can I have a soulmate AU 1#? The one about the craving? With Rufus? I was thinking, Rufus with a poor soulmate who craves the expensive foods he eats but doesn't have the money to buy them and sometimes doesn't even know what she's craving because it probably doesn't exist where she lives. I'm sorry if it's too detailed. It's okay if you don't want to do it. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Here you go! I hope you enjoy! Tell me if you liked it and if not, what I can improve on! Thanks for requesting, hon! ♡

THE FIRST TIME IT HAPPENED, you were sitting in Seventh Heaven and trying to ignore the excited chatter and boisterous energy around you. You had just ordered what would be your meal for the night and the next morning─it was all you could afford, given your meager salary as a scrap collector. Tifa had given you a hefty discount, since you helped her out a lot by finding spare parts and fitting them to the building when she needed it, but you sometimes suspected it was out of pity.

Your dinner─a plate consisting of two pork chops, rice, and a small salad─had cost you twenty gil. In the eyes of some, that was cheap, practically a penny out of their pockets; but for you, that was half your salary gone, and you rationed out the rest through cheaply packaged ramen that ran for one gil at the market. You weren't very healthy as a result, but Tifa did her best to meet at least some of your body's nutritional requirements with what you could afford to buy. She had even slipped you a free slice of pie and a beer, said it was on her for helping out with watching Marlene, and disappeared before you could argue.

When you couldn't afford even ramen, you bought food replacement tablets. They were cheaper than even those packets of noodles, could be gotten anywhere, and worked well enough to keep your appetite low as long as you didn't burn off too many calories working. Compared to you, Tifa and her group were well off, and they bought more food than they could handle. They didn't even box the rest up; Tifa would, though, and stow it away for later for them. It made you angry, and a little jealous.

So when you had gotten the barest sip of your beer and tasted the most exquisite flavors you had ever been privy to in your entire life, you felt your mind go white trying to catch up with it. You had never tasted this before, whatever it was─it was strong, and tasted like pizza smelled, but it was… off, more potent.

Your sister, before she married and moved topside, had told you about this; that people, when they were a certain age, tasted what their soulmate was eating. She also had said sometimes people have threads, others have telepathic thoughts, and even names on their arms. There was no real rhyme or reason to it, she told you, but it helped narrow down the selection pool to general salaries. Whatever that meant.

The taste still lingering in your mouth, you looked down at your pork chops in disappointment, knowing you would not get the same satisfaction out of your food. You ate with a mechanical slowness, forcing yourself to appreciate what you got and to savor it. The beer and pie was only a little satisfying, mostly to your sweet tooth, but as you were walking to the bar to pay Tifa, the taste changed. Your soulmate was taking dessert, it seemed, because all you could taste was the cloying sweetness of strawberries and sugar, something tart or somewhat bitter.

Your stomach felt very, very empty.

You paid Tifa and she rung up your receipt.

"How was the pie?" She asked, her eyes bright. Keen on conversation. "Did you like it? You were pretty slow tonight."

"I'm sorry." You took the receipt from her and stuffed it down your bra with a sigh, too lazy to flip open the button lapel at your breast. "I just got my first… soulmate taste thing. Whatever you call it. I wish I could have enjoyed it more, to be honest."

"Really?" Tifa motioned for you to sit down. Clearly you weren't going anywhere until she got all of the details out of you, haven't experienced it herself yet. "Tell me all about it and I won't get offended."

"I'll take that," you laughed. Your stomach clenched uncomfortably, tasting the delicious dessert your soulmate was having but confused when nothing came down. "I don't know about the main course, but the dessert had fresh strawberries… I remember those from when my mom would steal them from up topside. Sugar. Something bitter, but with its own sweetness. I've only ever eaten ramen and your food my whole life so I can't say what it was."

You hadn't noticed that Cloud had taken a seat one over from you until he spoke.

"That sounds like the Soireé up top." When you blinked at the long absent merc with confusion, he elaborated grudgingly,"A lot of Shinra execs would eat it. It's a dessert. Strawberries and blueberries. I overheard a conversation about it. Sounds like what you were describing."

"Oh, so they must have money, then, to eat topside," Tifa gasped. "I wonder who it could be!"

"I don't know." You shrugged and rubbed your stomach, grimacing at the twang of pain. "Well, I'll head on home now. Thanks for the pie, Tifa. Just call if you need anything."

"Sure thing, [Name]! Get home safe."

For the next five years, you suffered with your soulmate's eating habits, and over time, you got good at determining when they ate. Their favorite food seemed to be some kind of soup that had very little flavor, but their palette was large and vast. They ate three times a day, ate a snack inbetween, or drank some gods awful concoction of chocolate and bitter powder that you couldn't stand and took days to get out of your mouth.

In those five years, you had gone from lowly scrap collector to the illustrious Madame M's secretary and student. She boarded you and fed you extremely better food than you had ever eaten before, supplied you with a far more generous salary because she liked you and treated you like a daughter, and even helped you get healthy and into physical shape.

You could massage someone's hand like nobody's business, or even do the poor man's massage, but what you really specialized in was a unique method of acupuncture that stimulated relaxation and blood flow. Madame M had deemed you successful enough to take your own clients, but refused to let you take hers; you had to gather your own.

So topside you went, clothed in traditional garb as she had told you, with your hair pinned up and decorated with jewels from Madame M's prized collection. She had given them to you with a proud smile, along with some rather serious looking adoption papers that would allow her to become your official mother. Even at twenty-nine years old you had cried like a baby and hugged her. She didn't even tut like she normally would and hug you back.

But as soon as you were topside, you couldn't resist it.

You tracked down the restaurant that sold the Soireé.

When Rufus woke up tasting strawberries and blueberries in his mouth, he sat ramrod straight in his chair. At his feet, Darkstar whined and nudged his knee, but he ignored it and focused more intently on the flavors playing on his tongue.

It was the unique taste of a Soireé.

Over the years, he had tasted many things, things that he had looked up and found belonged to the slummers, then the middle class elite, or the oriental flavors of Wall Market cuisines. None of it had ever come close to touching the foods that he ate or the indulgences he found himself to favor, but this was the first time he had ever tasted something so expensive from his soulmate.

A slummer no more, it seemed.

He raised an eyebrow and hit a number on a rotary phone his father insisted on keeping. "Tseng."

"Yes, Mister President?"

"Find out who's eating a Soireé at Vallei Astra."

Tseng was very, very quiet for a few moments. He wisely didn't question it. "Yes sir. I'll be back with you in a moment."

She sat on the back patio facing a genuine ray of sunshine. The manager had escorted him to her with a sickly smile, sweating bullets, and mumbled under his breath the entire time while he did. Rufus had quickly made him leave once he got sight of his target.

She wore the oriental styles of the Wall Market; a black kimono, a dark purple obi, and brilliant red and white cranes and dragonflies sewn into it with a careful hand. A very expensive piece of silk indeed. She wore true jewels in her hair, a far cry from a slummer's jewelry, and from behind, wore her hair in a high bun with some strands left to dangle around her shoulders.

He had seen Madame M once, when she answered a personal call for his father. She had left the building in a rage, but he had heard her yelling at him when the massage had been finished. Her obi har been untied when she left. Rufus could only assume his father had been attempting to make her his mistress.

This girl, her student, was bound to be a spitfire.

He straightened his tie and stepped outside. A pair of cool, calm [color] eyes turned and regarded him, a plucked eyebrow raised, as if asking who dared to interrupt her dessert. Even sitting, she looked down her nose at him.

Oh, yes, he would enjoy every part of this… Starting with those eyes.

#final fantasy #final fantasy 7 remake #soulmate au #soulmate #rufus shinra x reader #rufus shinra

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deardiary1993 · 5 years ago

Text

My NICU Story (Moments I'll Never Get To Have)

My precious baby girl was born on July 6th of 2018 at 5:53pm.

On the day of her birth, I was not the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, or even 10th person to lay eyes on her, much less was I able to hold her, as soon as they pulled her out of me she was rushed away, sickly and in shock, she had inheld meconium due to me going over term with her.

click here to read: Going Over-Term Almost Killed My Baby

My birth plan was to hold her as soon as she came out, it was to do skin to skin and delayed cord clamping for 20ish minutes and then to have my husband cut it, it was to practice breastfeeding and to bond as a family just the three of us until I finally let our other relatives in so they could all coo over her and pass her around, but that's not what happened.

They rushed her to NICU accompanied by my husband, as I finished being sewed up and then sent to recovery. My husband later met me in recovery and shared photos of her with me. This was my first true look at my daughter who honestly looked awful and pale with wires protruding out of her.

Later that evening they did allow me to visit her in NICU only for a few short moments because my temperature was dropping and they wanted to get me warm again. My first viewing of my baby looked nothing like the child I have today; she laid inside a glass box on top of a receiving blanket and towel, wearing nothing but a diaper and her cluster of wires, her small 6lbs, and 12oz frame, sat with her legs spread out but the palms of her feet pointed toward one another like a little frog, and her little fist clenched tight resting next to each of her shoulders, she was asleep, and from my hospital bed I could only reach her little knee which I held on to our whole brief visit until my family and I were rushed out of the room and sent to another room on a lower floor that I would be residing in for the next few days; there, people would come to visit me and I hated it, I didn't want to see friends or family, I wanted my baby and I knew that they were there to see my baby, not really to see me, but she was in NICU and no one, not even I, could touch her, every visitor was just a reminder of our untraditional circumstances.

A little background on me personally, is that I like to be in control, I have always had a natural leadership air to me, and my husband is usually okay with sitting back and allowing me to make decisions, especially regarding myself and our child, but after my C-section and the heavy drugs they put me on, the process of thinking everything out and speaking up was greatly compromised, I was in an ignorant bliss, my baby was here, and she was alive, Yes, things went wrong and she's sick, but she's alive and she's going to get better. This mindset kept me from getting overwhelmed but looking back it also allowed me to be run over, time after time, during the next 6 days dealing with the NICU.

I assume it was the next day when I finally got to spend a little more time with my baby (but through the drugs, I'm not too sure about the passage of time while we were in the hospital).

This time she was in a full-on incubator and we had to slide our hands into these little holes to be able to touch her, we took photos and videos and the nurses even allowed my husband to feed and burp our little baby girl, which was particularly tricky to do through the little armholes, but it was overall a joyous experience, perhaps that's why I didn't make much of a fuss when I found out they were feeding my girl formula, which very much bothered me considering that I wanted to exclusively breastfeed her.

When I got back to my room I insisted on doing what I had to to get my baby some 'mommas milk' and the nurses provided me with a pump and little instruction on how to work it, little by little my husband and I figured it out and I pumped day and night every three hours and he would run the syringes upstairs to the NICU to give to her.

A visit or two later to the NICU the nurse finally allowed me to hold her and to breastfeed her, which was the happiest day of my life, I finally had her in my arms. The busy lactation consultant gave me a few pointers but seemed in a hurry and rushed out rather fast seeming less than optimistic about our success, but alone, at last, Baby and I quickly mastered it.

My husband and I made a habit to be in NICU as much as possible after that, to hold her and to feed her, we would play her Disney music and pass her between ourselves, giggling at her facial expressions and "dancing" with her, it was that family bonding experience I wanted day one and it was beautiful and perfect, until of course, the nurse came in and took her from me.

"Its time for her to go to bed, shes burning too many calories," she said as she placed the baby back into her fish tank of a bed. My world shattered. Our moment was taken from us and in its place was left heartbreak and guilt, I held in tears as we left the NICU floor and later cried to my husband feeling ashamed for selfishly wanting more time with her when it was hurting her.

Within this experience, we met a NICU nurse named Jan. Jan was protective over our little baby which we appreciated, but she had very little respect for us, assuming, I guess, that we were a lot younger than we were. She constantly hovered over us while we were with our baby only allowing us a brief period of holding her before taking her away, as well as offering us rather uneducated/untrue advice such as to let the baby sleep in a rock and play at night

click here to read about the dangers of using an RNP for sleep

and that moving too fast while holding the baby could cause Baby Shaking Syndrome, she also made a point to criticize our convertible car seat, but overall I was able to shake Jan off, the only thing she did that I wish I reported her for was when she fed my baby formula on the day we were coming to take Baby home from NICU. She fed her formula despite having more than enough breastmilk and she said she did it because it held the baby over longer (AKA she didn't want to have to keep feeding her), under normal circumstances I would have made my feelings known but this was pick up day, I was excited, so I let it slide. After that we left the hospital buckled Baby in the car and drove away, leaving the NICU and that awful experience as a memory.

Let's be honest though, no matter what NICU I was in, no experience would have been a good one,

nothing is pleasant about your child being taken from you and put alone in another dark room, nothing will ever make you feel more jealous than hearing other new parents down the hall from you holding their beautiful babies while yours is being poked with needles by strangers, nothing hurts quite like driving home from the hospital on your check-out day with an empty car seat behind you.

Having a baby in the NICU sucks, and you feel bad for feeling so cheated because at least your baby is alive and some people don't even get that, but its okay to mourn those missed moments with your baby, I think about the ordeal often and I cry.

My birth plan was to selflessly do the best possible things I could do for my baby, and I did, I gave her to the NICU and they saved her life.

___________________________________________________

Charity of the day:

Shriners Hospitals for Children has a mission to:

Provide the highest quality care to children with neuromusculoskeletal conditions, burn injuries and other special healthcare needs within a compassionate, family-centered and collaborative care environment.

Provide for the education of physicians and other healthcare professionals.

Conduct research to discover new knowledge that improves the quality of care and quality of life of children and families.

This mission is carried out without regard to race, color, creed, sex or sect, disability, national origin, or the ability of a patient or family to pay.

Click here to donate to Shriner's Hospital For Children

#NICU #nicu parent #nicu mom #MAS #Meconium aspiration syndrome #parenting #mom life #newborn #pregnancy #july 6th 2018

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