#youd better cool it off before you burn it out / youve got so much to do and only so many hours in a day

[mousemannation]

is vienna billy joel domi thiem anything

[oriigirii]

💞 MC is a Genshin Simp 💞

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{ AN: Omg! This is my first ask so thank you anon (๑ↀᆺↀ๑)/!! This is such a vibe too haha, I hope you like it! } Warnings: None [Maybe Refs and Chars you wont get if you dont play Genshin Impact] * Probably a bit OOC too *

Reader: Gender-Neutral [Default]

( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)

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< Genshin Impact was a game that took the human realm by storm, with its open-world gameplay, its competitive PvE and aesthatic settings, it was truly something that captured you the moment the beta was announced. Although, as with any Gacha games, you weren’t only attracted to the world and its setting.

No no.

The characters were truly the main eye candy of the game. You’d been worried that when you had been sucked into Devildom, you wouldn’t be able to access the game due to, yknow, realm differences, but luckily that wasn’t the case thanks to Levi, and hence why the moment it dropped, you had been spending your life savings simping for characters on every banner.

Yknow theres handsome bois in devildom too... Theyre just kinda waiting for you to put your game down for a moment and kinda notice em ～((Φ◇Φ)‡ >

------

ฅ⁽͑ ˚̀ ˙̭ ˚́ ⁾̉ฅ Lucifer

He usually doesn’t mind you playing games

Although, He would’ve preferred if you didn’t cause you kinda need to focus on your studies yknow?

But hey he’s not stopping you

Usually you would stay with him as he works, but he can’t seem to focus with you constantly begging beside him

Small little ‘please’ would be heard every now and then, and a sudden look of disappointment would show on your face.

He tried to ignore it, even giving little cues for you to quiet down, like clearing his throat

You didnt seem to pick up the hint though

He was just about to ask you what you were doing in the first place that has you praying beside him (which is hella rude) but your scream of happiness has him a little more irked and kinda taken back

“LUCIFER! I GOT HIM! LOOK LOOK I GOT HIM!”

You show him the screen showing your pull results

The character held a giant claymore with bright red hair

Before he can get another word in, you snatch your phone back and just sigh as if youd just had a heavenly (ironic) experience and mumble

“I seriously love him, Im so happy...”

Bro same though, Diluc pls come home

You were truly one of a kind, because youve just managed to break the Avatar of Pride’s... well.... Pride.

Did he just get cucked by a man in a video game?

Truly outrageous.

He seems to scoff and holds back a bit of an eye roll as he tries to focus back on his work

But boy oh boy, his salt is high

“If you are going to be causing a ruckus MC, May i suggest you doing it with Levi instead, I have no time for such games. I dont see why youre so caught up in such a character anyways, he looks quite basic.”

His words were sharp, and that was enough to shake you out of your fangirl/boy mode.

You were literally ready to fight the first born, a literal fucking fallen angel, for dissing Diluc like that

like

how dare

But then you notice how he seems to avoid your gaze and a small little red tint was on the tip of his ears.

Lucifer wouldve wanted to see you that happy with him, but no, a game character steals that spotlight.

Angey.

Instead of being intimidated by the sudden coldness, you giggle and finally close your phone and set it aside

You can continue celebrating and bragging about it later, for now, you wrap your arms around his arm and give him a small smooch on the cheek, which definitely makes him blush a tad bit

“Awww Luci dont be like that, Yknow I love you more”

Potential apocalypse has been diverted

But Lucifer does smile the smallest of smiles as he sighs, finding it silly to really get jealous over such a small thing and says

“I love you too, my dear... but you do have to make up for distracting me from my work...”

Well you kinda deserve it, so it wasnt long before both his work and your phone had been ditched

( After a while you do kinda see him quite similar to Diluc and it just makes you smile everytime you think about it, seems you have a thing for the strict cold men huh?)

===

Σ(‘◉⌓◉’) Mammon

Why you simping for a fictional character when you already have him?!

He’s your first man!

Your homie!

“Yeah well hes my first 5* so can you blame me?”

S A D N E S S

But for real, this man is just so clingy

He has heard from Levi that you were playing a new game from the human world, and of course, he had wanted to see what it was about by watching you play.

But since it was quite grind-heavy gacha game, he grew a bit bored and asked you to come with him to hang out somewhere else, or even go to the casino and gamble his money away cause he just got goldie back

But no matter what he suggests, you were just so focused on your grinding.

He’d prefer a different kinda grinding right about now with how lonely he is, ya feel me?

But no, you still werent interested.

“Oi! Cmon MC, whats even so important about this?”

“I already told you Mammon, Im grinding for primogems from the event! Theyre gonna be gone soon and I just HAVE to get them! Ugh I swear to Diavolo, if I dont, Imma cry! I didnt get him on their first banner too... ugh!”

Wait no--

Cmon he doesnt want you to cry!

Mammon kinda stays silent for a bit as he watches you struggle to fight the monsters with your low level team, frustration growing on your face.

But as you finish, Mammon seems to snatch your phone

“Hey! whats the big deal Mammon?!”

“Shut up and show me where the store is geez”

Mammon’s demands kinda surprises you and you raise an eyebrow at him, but you do show where it was, and sit back for a while as Mammon just fiddles around with it. You werent sure what he was doing honestly, was he interested? Did you say anything that made him act this way? All you talked about the game was the gacha system so--

oh…

OH

“Mammon! Wait you dont have to---”

“There! I got you as much primo things, or whatever theyre called”

He already has tossed you your phone back and he crossed his arms, looking away as the red blush covers most of his cheeks.

You look at your phone and you honestly felt your heart speed up and stop at the same time at the amount of primos on your account, it was enough for a full 180 pull! If you dont get the limited character on the first 50-50, you have another shot!

You felt your own heart speed up and your face burn so hard, but you do mumble him a quick “But... But why though?”

“Cuz! If you start cryin’ Lucifer’s gonna beat my ass! Dont think I did it for you, you human! I just dont want him taking away Goldie again!”

“But I thought this was your gambling money, isnt it?”

“w-well!... I mean... Hmph.. Gachas kinda like gambling right?, I know Lucifers gonna hang me if he catches me in the casino again anyways, so I thought I might as well just do this... with you...or whatever...” Hes dying, help

But so are you!

Hes too fucking cute and you just glomp him and just hug him as tight as you can!!

Flusterred boi 100

But you do spend you afternoon on his lap, both of you rolling the full 180 in excitement, whether you get that boi/gal you simped for on the banner or not, you still were happy to spend some time with Mammon

He doesnt mind losing a bit of cash for you

but you do promise to pay him back (maybe with a few kissy)

But to be honest, Gacha probably will help him with his gambling addiction...

kinda...

He doesnt go to casinos anymore but he does whale with you now

Lucifer has such a mix feeling with these results.

But he still confiscates Goldie and your card on the end, yall need to chill.

====

ヽ(。_°)ノ Leviathan

He probably wasn’t even interested on the game at first

He already has enough games to play, and it just looks like another rip off of some other game he saw not too long ago with that elf looking guy

But when you came to him asking for his help to get the game, you bet your ass that he felt a switch click

Suddenly it was incredibly interesting!

You do share your interests to him almost immediately

By interests, of course i mean the peeps you simp for

The sexy ara ara in the library of mondstat, the pirate looking ass of the guards, the pirate looking ass’s brother thats a wine owner and still highkey reminds you of Lucifer, the demon slayer--- You were actually unsure if you should talk about Xiao but hey hes cool

You explain it all!

From their lore to their voice lines and whatever

But honestly what do you expect from the Avatar of Envy?

Of course hes gonna be a bit jealous! He cant compare to any of these characters! Hes not as witty as that eye patch man, hes not as sophisticated as that red head, hes not as flirty as that ara ara either!

As you go on, you notice that Levi was kinda... half listening....

It made you pout, but then, it made you worried

Uh-oh you know that look

its that, ‘im overthinking’ look

So to snap him out of it, you kinda grab his face as gently as you can

“Need Grimm for your thoughts?”

He flushes and he immediately looks away, but you usher him to look at you as you coo and ask him whats wrong

It takes a bit till he kinda explains to you how hes feeling

In your relationship, you both were practicing being more open with each other, hence why you were proud of Levi for saying it

but you did feel kinda sad and frowned as he finishes explaining

“You... feel jealous?”

“Ugh d-dont say it out loud normie....”

He covers his face with his arm and you just cant help but shake your head with a fond smile, but you do need to address this and comfort him.

“Levi... when you fanboy about Ruri chan, did you ever think she was better than me?”

Your question made him frown and look at you in absolute worry

Did you actually think that you were below Ruri chan?

Of course hes an absolute simp for Ruri but.. cmon

Now that he thinks about it, he does talk about her a lot doesnt he? oh no...

“MC O-Of course not! I love Ruri chan yes, but you... I... I Love... you more...” Levi exe do be dying

But you smile at his response and gently kisses his cheek

“I think thats sweet Levi... But thats how I am too... Youre still better than any of these characters, youre real and they arent, youre mine and I am yours~ Youre my personal 5 star!” You wink at him and Levi just dips

his heart couldnt handle the cuteness and he died, ladies and gentlemen

but for real he did pass out

Must be from all the blood on his head from the blush

But ah, he does get it, and after being showered with love from you, He kinda slowly got over his jealousy

its not immediate but with simple reassurances, you can manage to reel him in and have fun with you

He does end up enjoying the game cause he gets to spend time with you, and he gets to show off when events happen 

He also goes out of his way to memorize locations for materials for you, and when youre sick or busy, he pilots your account

true gamer

But ironically enough hed probably start simping for a character too and of course, you both start bonding over that, which just makes Levi absolutely happy

I wonder if hed simp for Barbara, she is an idol afterall like Ruri chan

Probably lowkey for now

Afterall she looks like a minor so-----

( I dunno i searched shes 16-18 lol )

But regardless, I can imagine you both just cosplaying each others fav characters too

Its a wack looking ship cosplay but yall just simp for each other cause of it, its pretty fun but the rest of the brothers just finds it hella weird

----

I only have energy for these 3 as always, Im sorry! But i promise Ill do the rest!! I hope you guys do enjoy, and Id love some feedback on the characters personalities cause I know they can be a bit Ooc, But feel free to send me an ask! Im pretty open lol 〜(￣△￣〜)

[moodycastiel-writes]

sacrifice

summary: reader undertakes the trials to close the gates of hell in sam’s place. this is a little au that takes place during the season eight finale!

pairing: sister!reader and winchesters

warnings: angst. lots and lots of angst. foul language. y’know, the usual. there’s not a happy ending with this one. please don’t hate me (:

author’s note: i wasn’t originally going to write the confession, but i had a lot of ideas on how to establish a relationship between reader and the brothers, and i felt having her confess to her sins would make her more of an empathetic character. so yes, this is a small au that i had in mind where reader is sam & dean’s older sister who does the trials instead of sam. (((oh, also, cas does end up believing metatron and him and naomi kill metatron so the angels never fall.))) ((double also, crowley calls reader ‘fatale’, which is a rocky and bullwinkle reference, since he calls sam and dean moose and squirrel. just wanted to throw that out there in case anyone was confused to that reference!)) anywho, yeah, i hope y’all enjoy!!

——————————————————————————————————

You could hear your blood pounding in your ears as you stood at vestibule of the run-down church, your shaking hand loosely holding on to the can of red spray paint, eyes trained on the devil’s trap you painted. This was it. Everything that has happened this past year is finally coming to an end.

You let out an uneven breath as the doors opened gently, the heavy footsteps of your brothers approaching you with caution.

“Do you have him?” you asked, not bothering to lift your tired eyes to meet them.

“Yeah,” Sam spoke, a level of uncertainty to his voice. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I have to,” you answered, turning around curtly and brushing past Sam and Dean, leaving the church as you neared the Impala. It was only a few moments before they were both at your side again, the hot sun doing little to warm the permanent chill that settled into your soul when you first started the trials.

“We should get started,” you said, turning to Dean, “the sooner the better.”

Dean nodded his head and smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He opened the trunk and pulled out a handcuffed Crowley, completely at your disposal. Dean walked the demon into the church to get him ready, leaving you alone with Sam.

“How are you holding up?” he asked you as you grabbed the jar of holy oil from the back seat.

“Fine,” you responded, an unintentional iciness to your voice. “I’ll be better when this is all over.”

Dean walked back outside to meet you and Sam, wiping his hands on his pants. “Crowley’s all prepped and primed,” he turned to look at you, “How we feeling about this?”

“Honestly?” you asked, looking between your younger brothers, “Good. Better than what I have in a while. I think we’re finally going to win. This is all going to be over,” you sighed, a ghost of a smile appearing on your face for the first time in a long while.

Sam clapped a hand on your shoulder, but Dean cleared his throat behind you two. “All right, well, no dancing in the end zone until we're finished. What's the good father's playbook say now?”

You looked around the outside of the church eyes falling over the stained-glass windows. “Well... Now that we got the consecrated ground, I just, uh,” you cleared your throat, “I slip Crowley one dose of blood every hour for eight hours and seal the deal with a bloody-fist sandwich. That oughta do it.”

“Your blood's supposed to be purified, isn't it?” Dean remembered, “You ever, uh -- you ever done the ‘forgive me, father’ before?”

You shook your head, gaze dropping to the ground. “No, never. I have no idea what I should even say,” you admitted.

A thousand things were running through your head. All the countless times you’ve fucked up over the years. From the second your mother burned on the ceiling of Sam’s nursery to now, there was so many things you could confess. All the lies and betrayals, the murders and all the innocent people you’ve let die. Tears pricked your eyes, but you cleared your throat and blinked them away.

“Well, I could give you some suggestions,” Dean tried.

“O-okay, yeah. Sure,” anything could help.

“Alright,” he glanced at Sam, who had a disapproving look on his face. “Well, there was the whole siding with the demons thing. Or, um, ditching me when we were in Purgatory. Saying yes to Michael. Oh, also—”

“I get it!” you cut him off, not believing all the things he was currently throwing in your face. A wave of guilt washed over you, and an unsettling silence washed over you three.

“Well, we’re not getting any younger,” you finally said, passing Sam the jar of holy oil before making your way to the church.

“Hey!” Dean called after you, “Maybe open what you did to Penny Markle? In the sixth grade?”

You shot him a confused look, “That was you.”

Dean paused, the memory of what he did to poor Penny coming back to him. Clearing his throat, he waved you off. “Nevermind! Carry on.”

You rolled your eyes at him and made your way back into the church, closing the door behind you. You did you best to ignore Crowley’s eyes following your every move as you walked into the confession room, taking a seat on the bench.

“Okay,” you let out a shaky breath, “if anyone is listening, here we go.” You paused, your eyes screwing shut tightly. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” A cool blast of wind rushed by you, ruffling through your hair. You took it as a sign that someone, somewhere was listening, and continued on. “I have made a lot of mistakes. I have so many regrets, so many sins, that I don’t even know where to begin. I watched my brothers die, so many times, for what? To fulfill some stupid prophecy? I should have protected them. I—” you stumbled on your words, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

You wiped at your face and continued on. “I never should have let Dean sell his soul for Sam. It should have been me. I was supposed to do everything I could to protect those boys. If I just strapped on a pair, Dean never would have went to hell, and the seals never would have been broken. This is all my fault. I have to fix it.” The tears were falling freely down your face now, but you didn’t care enough to wipe them away. “I shouldn’t have let Sam ever say yes to Lucifer. I could have said yes. He never would have gone to Hell and lost his soul. It’s all on me.”

You took in another shaky breath, trying to calm down. “Leaving Dean alone in Purgatory… I don’t even know what I was thinking. I was so stupid,” you let out a humorless laugh. “I thought I was doing my best to protect him, but deep down I was trying to get away from him. From Sam. I caused so much pain in their lives, that it would be better if I just disappeared from their lives all together. 

“But those things I’ve confessed, those sins I’ve committed, they’re not even the icing on the cake. I have so many things just piling up that I could sit here forever, but I don’t have enough time. My greatest sin, the tip of the iceberg… What I want forgiveness from the most is how,” your voice broke as you choked back a sob. “My greatest sin is how many times I’ve let my brothers down.”

An ache settled in your chest as you confessed what you never thought you’d say out loud in a million years. Another breeze of wind brushed past you, and you took it as a sign that your confession was over. You wiped your face, leaving behind all the traces of your confession in that booth and stepped out, your guilt weighing on your soul heavier than before.

Crowley stared at you with a smug look on his face, no doubt he heard everything you had just said. Eyeing a roll of duct tape on the table with your gun, the needle, and holy water, you grabbed it and ripped a piece off, tightly taping the demon’s mouth shut.

“Not a word,” you sneered, walking out of the church. You saw Sam and Dean talking with Castiel at the Impala in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out what they were saying from the distance you were at, and crept closer to them to make something out.

“—You’re asking us to leave her, Cas. Now, if anybody needs a chaperone while doing all the heavy lifting, it’s [y/n]” you were able to make out from Dean’s whispering. His confession about you was like a slap in the face. Did he really not trust you that much? Thinking you needed a chaperone for everything you did?

“You should you,” you announced, startling your brothers. You knew Cas was aware of your presence, and did nothing to acknowledge him.

They turn to look at you, a guilty look on their faces. “Seriously,” you added, not wanting to continue this conversation.

“Yeah, and leave you alone with the King of Hell? Really?”

You frowned at Dean, not understanding why he can’t trust you to do this one thing. Did he really expect so little of you where he is always prepared for you to fuck up and need someone to clean up your mess?

“Yes, really,” you snapped. You ignored the look of hurt that crossed over his face. “You two can’t do anything to help me. This is on me. I think I can get through one little thing without fucking it up.”

“[Y/n], you know that’s not what this is about,” Sam said gently. “It’s not that we don’t trust you. We don’t trust Crowley.”

“Crowley is bound to where he sits,” you argued, “nothing, not even the king of Hell, can get through both a devil’s trap and the chains we have him in.”

“Fine,” Dean said, “Start the injections now. If we’re not back in eight hours, finish it, no questions, no hesitation.”

“Yeah,” was all you responded. Castiel placed a hand on each of your brother’s shoulders and with the flap of his wings he was gone, leaving you alone at the church. With a heavy sigh, you made your way back into the building, facing Crowley. His words to you were muffled under the duct tape, but that didn’t stop him from blabbing. With a roll of your eyes, you ripped the tape off of his mouth, ignoring his wince of pain.

“You really think injecting me with human blood is gonna make me human? Did you read that on the back of a cereal box?”

You ignored the demon as you picked up the needle, pushing it into the vein in your arm. You drew enough blood and slowly ejected it, and walked over to Crowley.

“Are you listening to me, brat?”

“Shut up,” you sneered, thrusting the needle into his neck. He howled in pain as you yanked the needle away.

“You're miles out of your league, kid,” Crowley barked at you as you turned your back on him.

“See you in an hour,” you called over your shoulder, walking to the table at the altar. Your arms began to glow that golden color that always appeared after you completed the trials. Why was it showing up now? You bit back your pain, your hands forming into tight fists, waiting for the pain to go away. When the light finally faded from your veins, you let out a breath of relief and sunk to the ground, your back resting against the altar. You looked up at the cracked statue of Jesus on the cross and closed your eyes, waiting for your watch to beep, signalling the next round of injections.

—————————————————————————————————————

When your watched finally beeped after an agonizingly long hour, your were up on your feet as fast as you could get, the needle already in your hand. You ejected more blood from your veins into the syringe and made your way back over to Crowley, who looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You ignored the look in his eyes and issued the second dose of injections into his neck. In the blink of an eye, Crowley’s head turned and his teeth sank into your forearm, hard enough to draw blood.

“What the fuck!” you exclaimed in pain, drawing your arm back and clutching the new wound in pain. You gave him an exasperated look before punching the demon across the face. “Seriously? Biting? What are we, five?”

You shook your head as you walked away from him, placing the needle back onto the table. You spared Crowley another bitch-face as you walked out of the church, slamming the door behind you. You walked to the trunk of the Impala and grabbed bandages to wrap up your arm. As you secured the bandages, your arms began to glow again, and you fell to the rubble on your knees.

“Stop it,” you groaned as the light grew brighter. “Please.”

Finally, the light faded again, leaving you struggling to get a grip on your breathing. With struggle, you turned your body to sit upright against the Impala, your head falling back, staring at the sky. The sun had begun to set in the distance, the sky painted with beautiful sparks of color.

“I can do this,” you whispered determined to yourself, “I can do this.”

—————————————————————————————————————

Another hour had passed by and you made your way back into the church, stuffing more bandages in your pocket before doing so. At the sound of the door opening and closing, you heard Crowley chuckle.

“How we doin’, Fatale? Ready for another round of injections?” he asked, a joyous tune to his voice. You ignored him and filled the syringe with another dose of your blood.

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes,” he began singing, you instantly recognizing the David Bowie song, “turn and face the strange. Ch-ch-changes, just gonna have to be a different man. Time may change me, but I can't trace—”

His singing was cut off by a loud sound, the church beginning to rumble. You quickly turned to face Crowley who seemed unfazed by the sudden shock to the church.

“What did you do?” you shouted at him over the sound of the quake. He remained stoic, but the hint of a devilish smirk rose to his face. The floorboards began to creak under your feet, a large crack running down until it severed the devil’s trap that you painted right down the center.

“Did you really think you could kidnap the King of Hell and no one was gonna notice, dumb nuts?”

An expression of fury and fear took over your features as the door to the church were ripped open, Abbadon revealing herself on the other side of the door.

“Now that’s what I call an entrance,” she gloated, patting herself on the back.

“Abbadon?” Crowley questioned. “They told me you were dead.”

“So not.”

“Where’s the rest of the cavalry?”

“It’s just little ol’ unkillable me,” she smirked. You turned quickly, reaching for your discarded gun, but with a wave of her hand, Abbadon sent you flying across the church and into the wall, your head slamming against the wood. You groaned as you landed on your stomach, your vision going blurry.

“Brilliant. Why send in a few grunts when you can send in a knight? Say your prayers, Fatale,” Crowley smirked. You tried to get up, but the Knight waved her hand again and sent you through the stained glass window to your right, immediately falling unconscious.

—————————————————————————————————————

When you came back to, it took you a minute to remember what had happened. You scrambled to your feet, hoping not a lot of time had passed in your impromptu siesta. Looking around for a weapon that you could use against Abbadon, your eyes settled on the jar of holy oil you had given to Sam. He must of left it for you, in cast of an emergency. You let out a silent thank you and patted your jacket pockets, striking gold when you felt your father’s lighter in your pocket.

You crept to the entrance of the church where the doors were still open and peered inside, eyes landing on Abbadon hovering over Crowley. You snuck inside, careful to step around any loose pieces of wood to prevent any unnecessary noises to alert your presence.

“Right now, you and I are going to talk about a regime change,” Abbadon said, crouching down to send another punch to Crowley’s face.

“You little whore,” he barked, “I am your king!”

She punched him again, this time hard enough to shut him up. When she went to stand back up, you ran forward and threw the holy oil over her body.

“Burn, bitch,” you spat, throwing the lighter on her. You watched with a smirk as her body lit up in flames and she screamed in pain as her vessel burned. Her mouth opened wide and she exited the body before any further harm was done to her, and she escaped the church in a flash of black smoke.

Without wasting any time, you made work of picking Crowley back up and fixing the chair so it was back in the devil’s trap. He groaned as he came back to consciousness, watching you with a glint of something… admiration, maybe? to his eyes.

“You did good back there, Fatale,” he congratulated you. “I'll deny it if you ever quote me, but I'm a proud man. I'm proud of you.”

You ignored his comment, instead focused on gabbing the can of spray paint you left on the table to fix the trap where it broke.

“Wait, what are you doing?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” you snapped, overly agitated at the events that had just transpired. You finished up the devil’s trap and threw the can to the side, it clattering to the ground noisily.

“Are you joking?” he asked, incredulously. “I just saved your life!”

“Seriously?” you dead-panned.

“Seriously? Me, seriously? We just shared a foxhole, you and I. We beat back the Tet Offensive, outrun the --the Rape of Nanking together! And still you're gonna do me like this?!”

You ignored his tangent and grabbed the needle, filling it up with your blood and jamming it into his neck before he could get another word in.

“Aah! Aah!” he exclaimed in pain, before a whole new emotion washed over him. “Band of Brothers? The Pacific?” he asked. “None of this means anything to you? All those motels, you never once watched HBO, not once?” You shook your head at him, confused at where he was going. “Girls? You're my Marnie, Fatale. A-and Hannah, she just—she needs to be loved. She deserves it. Don't we all—you, me; we deserve to be loved. I deserve to be loved!” he shouted, before lowering his voice back down to a whisper, “I just want to be loved.”

You cocked your head the the demon. “What?” you asked.

A confused look washed over him, and his expression mirrored yours. “What?”

As the moment of Crowley’s tangent passed, a wave of fatigue passed over you. The pain of where the needle was injecting into you suddenly took a toll on you. You walked back over to the table and placed it down, grabbing the spare bandages from your pocket. You wrapped where the puncture wounds were tightly, wishing right about now you had some extra strength tylenol. You took more blood from your opposite arm, wanted to be prepared for the next dose of injections just in case something else was going to happen.

“Would it be possible, Fatale, I’d like to ask you a favor,” Crowley spoke, his voice sounded drained and exhausted. “[Y/n], earlier you were confessing back there, and… well, I didn’t hear much, not really, so I’d like to know what you said.” You gave him a look that read ‘that’ll never happen.’ At the sight of your expression, he instantly clarified his statement. “ I only ask because, given my history...it raises the question... Where do I start...to even look for forgiveness? I mean…” he trailed off.

You paused, shocked at the revelation. The cure, it was working.

“You start with this.”

You held the needle out in your hand, showing him what you meant. Crowley tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck where the marks of the past injections were. You gently pushed the needle through at his submission, and unlike the past ones, he showed no signs of pain, but rather contentment.

“This is going to work, Crowley,” you reassured. “You’re going to be cured, and you’ll be redeemed. I promise.”

A gust of wind blasted through the church, and your arms began to glow again, but this time there was no pain. “We’re almost done,” you whispered, not sure Crowley even heard you. “It’s time.”

You took a deep breath and began the exorcism, the final piece to purify him. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, hanc animam redintegra, lustra.”

As you pulled your knife from its holder, the light grew brighter, and you sliced across your palm. You walked closer to Crowley, and as you were about to feed him your blood, footsteps barreled through the church.

“[Y/n]! Stop!,” you turned at the noise, coming face to face with the worried looks of your brothers. You backed up from them, your hip bumping into the arm of Crowley’s chair, a confused expression on your face.

“Easy there,” Sam coaxed gently, putting his hands up. “Take a deep breath.”

“There’s been a slight change of plans,” Dean said, slightly more aggressive than Sam.

“What? What’s going on?” you asked. “Where’s Cas?”

“Metatron lied,” Sam explained. “Him and Naomi are going to confront him.”

You shook your head at him, still not understanding what was going on.

“You finish these trials, you’re dead,” Dean said bluntly, trying to get you to understand what was happening. You looked between your two brothers, then back at Crowley. You scoffed and shook your head, looking back to face them.

“So?” you said, your voice slightly breaking.

Sam and Dean’s faces melted from worry to an emotion you couldn’t place, but it was somewhere along the lines of hurt and betrayal. Betrayal. Even now, after you’ve confessed and sought forgiveness, you were still letting your brothers down in ways you couldn’t stop. It had to stop. Finishing these trials with your death, it’ll all stop.

“Look at him!” you exclaimed, pointing down to Crowley. “Look at him! Look at how close we are! Other people will die if I don't finish this! Who cares about me?”

You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, but you ignored the sensation. Dean took a small step forward, his brow creasing. “Think about it. Think about what we know, huh? Pulling souls from hell, curing demons, hell, ganking a Hellhound! We have enough knowledge on our side to turn the tide here. But we can't do it without you.”

“You can barely do it with me,” you fired back immediately. The confused look on his face egged you to continue. “I mean, you think I screw up everything I try. You think I need a chaperone, remember?” you couldn’t help the single tear that fell from your eyes as your voice cracked on the last word.

Sam frowned. “That’s not what he meant—”

“No, that’s exactly what he meant!” you exclaimed, cutting him off. You let out a humorless chuckle. “You want to know what I confessed in there?” you asked, pointing to the confession booth with the hand that you didn’t cut. “Do you want to know what my ultimate sin was? The thing that held me down the most?”

When neither of them answered, you continued. “My greatest sin was—is— how many times I’ve let the two of you down. I can’t keep doing it. Not again. Finishing this, it’ll end it all.”

“[Y/N]—” Sam tried, but you continued talking.

You held back a sob as the tears finally began falling. “You two don’t trust me anymore, I can see it in the way you look at me. Like I need one of you with me at all times. You haven’t trusted me in a long time, and it took me awhile to realize it, but now that I have I feel so fucking stupid for not seeing it before.” Another humorless laugh escaped your lips.

“I know I’ll never earn your trust back, there’s nothing else I can do to prove that I love you both more than anything. You don’t see it, and I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of watching you guys turn to other people when you get sick of me.” At their confused expressions, you elaborated. “Who will it be next? Another demon? Another angel? Another vampire?” You shook your head.

“You have no idea what it feels like to see the two people you thought—”

“Hold on, hold on!” Dean cut you off, finally breaking you from your tangent.

“You seriously think that?” Sam questioned, taking a step forward to be back in-line with his brother. “Because none of it, none of it is true.”

“Listen, [Y/n],” Dean began, “I know we’ve had our disagreements, all of us, okay? Hell, I know I have said some really fucked up things to get you thinking the way you are but you need to understand… I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you.”

Your shoulders slumped at his confession, and the tears fell faster from your eyes. You looked between Sam and Dean, then down at your bleeding hand, and in a split second you made your decision. You turned and brought your hand up to Crowley’s mouth, and instantaneously you felt him drinking your blood. The pounding in your ears resumed, and you barely heard Sam shouting words of protest behind you.

You pulled your hand away, and the light erupted throughout your entire body. “Kah-nuh-ahm-dahr,” you whispered. Crowley let out a gasp, his eyes flicking to his demonic red, then faded completely back to his human eye color.

“It worked,” you laughed, turning to face your brothers. They looked at you with wide eyes, not daring to move. You had no time to celebrate your victory of the trials, instead a large rumbling echoed throughout the church, and the ground began to crack again.

This time, underneath the cracks in the ground, a hellish light peeked through, eating away at the floorboards. A hole opened up underneath your feet and you jumped back far enough to the edge, opposite of your brothers as your watched with wide eyes as black smoke broke through all the windows of the church, glass shattering everywhere. The sound of hundreds, if not thousands, of demons screamed as they were forced back into hell against their will. The wind picked up harshly and you were thrown back from the portal to hell, losing the sight of Sam and Dean through the smoke.

When every last demon was through the portal, it closed up tightly, no signs of what had just happened anywhere. When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, you looked across to your brothers, a smile creeping up on your face.

“I did it,” you whispered, pinching yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

Your heart hammered in your chest and you groaned at the pressure, stammering back an inch. Immediately, Sam and Dean were at your side as your legs began to give out, helping you to the ground. “I did it,” you repeated, your voice getting weaker, your eyelids becoming heavier.

“Yeah, [Y/N],” Sam sniffled, “you did it.” He gripped your hand tightly, squeezing it in his large one.

You smiled weakly up at him, using what little strength you had to squeeze his hand back. You looked to your other side to Dean, whose eyes were red-rimmed.

“I’m s-sorry,” you whispered at him, at the both of them.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Dean said, finally looking over your pale form.

“You have to… you have to promise me,” you croaked out, struggling to get out your final words. You coughed, doubling over as it overpowered you. Raising your free hand to your mouth, you coughed up blood into it. “No bringing me back,” you finally said. “I’m at peace.”

“You can’t ask us to do that,” Sam said. You turned to look back at him, smiling sadly at him. You grabbed Dean’s hand with your free hand, feeling your last breaths creep up on you. You could have sworn you’d seen a person standing over Sam’s shoulder, but they had disappeared before your vision could focus.

“I love you both, so much,” you whispered, you eyes falling shut. Your grip on your brothers’ hands loosened, and your chest stopped rising and falling. Your head lulled to the side, your body completely still.

You stood over your two brothers, holding your body in their arms as they wept for you. A cold hand rested on your shoulder, and you turned around with a gasp.

“Tessa,” you said, staring at the reaper.

“[Y/N],” she greeted, a welcoming smile on her face. “It’s time.”

You nodded your head and she stuck out her hand. You spared one last look at your baby brothers, and grabbed her hand in yours, your soul leaving Earth to face judgement. You did not know where you were going to end up, if your final quest was good enough to outweigh all the shit you’ve done in your life.

You knew that Sam and Dean would be okay. They always were without you.

[themoneybuff-blog]

How Long Could YOU Survive a Job Shutdown? This Simple, Reassuring Tactic Can Help You Prepare

The partial government shutdown has had a serious impact on 800,000 federal employees, including those with essential jobs who are required to work without pay. A quick look at news and social media (especially at Twitters #ShutdownStories) reveals tales of anxiety and sometimes outright terror. If we arent affected ourselves, an all-too-human reaction is to avert our eyes from the misery, silently thanking Deity Of Choice that we arent government employees. Wed do much better to take the shutdown as an object lesson. Even if we dont work for Uncle Sam, we cant truly know that our own employment is rock-solid. We cant predict layoffs, illness, or our companies closing down or being sold to a new owner who slashes personnel by one-third. However, theres a way to prepare for such crises. Its called a Financial Fire Drill, and its both simple and crucial. The FFD is a focused look at essential expenses and how you might cover them during a no-work period, plus a list of resources that answer all the what-ifs. Sound scary? On the contrary! Its liberating as heck to determine how little you could get by on if push comes to shove: If I lose my job or theres another shutdown, we could actually get by on as little as $1,000 dollars a month until times were better. A healthy emergency fund is useful for such an occasion. Some money wonks suggest you have three to six months worth of expenses saved; others insist you need a years worth. While thats a fine theory, it isnt always possible. Besides, the whole point of having the EF isnt just to spend it! Its there in case of emergencies that cant be covered any other way. And if it took more than three months to find a new job or recover from your illness, youd still have bills to pay and no more financial cushion. Thats why a financial fire drill is multifaceted. Rather than relying solely on the money you already have, it gives you a range of strategies. How Much Do You Need? Start your FFD by determining your households absolute baseline expenses in four categories: food, rent/mortgage, utilities, and essential debt service (things like child support and your auto loan). Baseline is the key word here. For example, if you currently pay extra on your mortgage, youd stop doing that temporarily. Luckily, food is the simplest (although not always the easiest!) thing to cut back on; during a crisis youd nix meals out temporarily and switch to basic (but still healthy and delicious) home cooking. As for utilities, consider whats essential. Cable television isnt really a baseline expense, for example you could do without for a few months. If you keep your house overly heated or cooled because you like it that way (versus because someone in your home is medically fragile), then it would be time to look for ways to cool off naturally or to stay warm while turning down the thermostat.(This isnt punishment. Its prudence. Its smart use of available resources and, maybe, a little bit of short-term sacrifice for the sake of your future financial goals.) Add up the baseline expenses and youll have the number you need to beat. If you can come up with that amount every month, youll manage. Finding the Funds Now that you know how much you need, where will you get the dollars? Best-case scenario: Your household has another income source that will mostly or completely cover those essentials. Obviously this would be super-double-awesome, but it probably isnt going to happen in every case. Not everyone can apply for unemployment. (I cant, because Im a private contractor.) If you dont know whether youre eligible, find out. Then bookmark the U.S. Department of Labors CareerOneStop page, so youll be ready to file if necessary. The page also has links to employment and training programs and other useful information. One of the most important things to note is how much you could expect to get if you qualify. Ideally, it would be enough to cover your monthly baseline. But even if it is, thats not the end of your financial fire drill. Pulling in Extra Dollars Going from month to month on just-enough can mean serious anxiety. Were doing OK now, but what if the car breaks down and I cant job-hunt? For this reason, your FFD needs to include ways to bring in extra dollars. A part-time or occasional job (side hustle) is one way to do it. Websites like SideHusl.com and 1099Mom.com are a good place to start. They have job possibilities you might never have imagined. While the gig economy has its issues, it can be a godsend to those in temporary straits. Driving for Lyft or Uber can take a toll on your vehicle beyond, but some say the pay and tips can be lucrative. Non-gig-economy jobs could be available near you, too. Now before you need one start investigating possibilities like delivering pizza, taking on a newspaper route (theyre screaming for drivers where I live), or working in retail or food service. If youve got a college degree, you could look into becoming a substitute teacher. Applying takes time due to the need for a background check, so look into the requirements now. Start by contacting the school district to see if the demand is high. Or create your own income stream. Let it be known through friends and on social media that youre available to walk dogs, babysit, clean houses, or whatever youre good at doing. Tutor kids or teens in math, Spanish, or whatever subject you know well. (Pro tip: Find out what tutoring goes for in your area, to keep from undercharging.) Fix up the spare room nicely and look into options like hosting guests through Airbnb and Homestay.com. Fun fact: If you rent part or all of your primary residence for 14 days or fewer in a year, you dont have to pay taxes on the money you earn. Really! See Chapter 5, page 18 of this Internal Revenue Service publication for the details. Finally, take a hard look at what you own. Make a list of what could be sold on LetGo.com or OfferUp.com if worst came to worst. Listing Possible Resources The unemployment website mentioned above is just a start. The Benefits.gov site features more than 1,200 state and federal benefit and assistance programs. One you really need to learn about is the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, the new name for food stamps. Each state has a different process, so take some time to learn about yours. For example, you might be required to provide your childs birth certificate got any idea where it is? Feeding America has a food bank locator. Take a minute to look for local resources, and either bookmark the locator or make a list of whats available nearby. Another excellent resource is 211.org, a clearinghouse for social services. Put it on your list of places to call when things get hairy. However, no single resource is all-encompassing; fledgling or hyper-local organizations might fly under even 211.orgs radar. For that reason, be prepared to ask this question of any agency you wind up contacting: Are there any other resources that could help someone in my circumstances? Anyone with student loans should learn about forbearance and deferment. The U.S. Department of Education tells more in this article, which also offers information on student loan consolidation and income-based repayment plans. If youve just been laid off youre likely to be frozen with shock, fear or rage; learning more about your options now, when youre calm, is a good idea. Cut Some Costs, on Paper As noted earlier, youd cut back on extra mortgage payments and meals out. Brainstorm some other ways to pare down expenses. If push comes to shove, you could suspend that gym membership, cancel your cable service, put a temporary halt on529 plancontributions, throttle back on your kids extracurricular activities, cancel any subscription services, re-think the way you entertain yourselves, and look for better deals on cellphone service. An optional (yet recommended) tactic is to do some real worst-case scenario planning. Would it be possible to find a cheaper place to live? If so, could your buddy with a truck help you move vs. your having to rent a moving van? Speaking of friends: If the tough times lingered, would a friend rent you a room vs. your getting an entire apartment? Would really good friends take turns letting you couch-surf? Maybe your sister would take temporary custody of your cat or your cockatiel until you could afford to feed both the pet and yourself. Perhaps you could hire yourself out as a live-in nanny, to avoid having to pay for housing at all. (I know a young woman who put herself through college that way.) Finally: If youre carrying even a little bit of consumer debt right now, make it your mission to vanquish it as soon as possible. Paying interest is a horrible idea even when times are good; paying extra money out when theres no money coming in is infinitely worse. Yay! Youre Done! Now: What to do with all this information? Why, you put it into a folder (real or virtual) and file it away under Hope This Never Happens. Nobody wants to think about losing some or all of their household income. But better to think about it now than the day when your boss greets you by saying, Clean out your desk or your doctor calls and says, We need to talk. Relatively few schools burn down each year, yet we have fire drills anyway. Its part of keeping our kids protected. Give your finances the same kind of care and forethought by starting your own financial fire drill today. Award-winning journalist and veteran personal finance writerDonna Freedmanis the author of Your Playbook for Tough Times: Living Large on Small Change, for the Short Term or the Long Haul and Your Playbook for Tough Times, Vol. 2: Needs AND Wants Edition. More byDonna Freedman: https://www.thesimpledollar.com/financial-fire-drill-how-long-could-you-survive-a-job-shutdown/

[apsbicepstraining]

Can You Lose 8 Pounds?

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Hello. If youre learn this right now, its because you want to make a change. Youre here because youve always been huge, but now your largeness has already become revolt. You are here because God has cursed you with a flabby paunch, and you dislike the style it rebounds and oozes.

You are here, candidly, because you have nowhere else to turn.

I want to take control of my life.

I want to die a lonely, ruined person who is full of bitternes because I never took community initiatives.

Yes! The first step to succumbing a lonely, broken person who is full of regret is admitting to yourself that you want to die a lonely, busted person who is full of bitternes. Today is the day you embark on that footpath. Disappear out in the world, get down this computer, and hug the darkness.

Start Over

Incredible. Its time to begin anew! Its duration for a brand-new, less fleshy assembly. To start, take a good, hard look at yourself. Thisthis is you now.

Okay.

And this was youthis was you 8 glorious pounds ago.

Oh, wow.

No, its not.

Look, denial is a sign of weakness. Seem into your own sees. If youre going to make a change, you must accept that this perfect, chiseled muscle domain used to be yours.

I countenanced myself.

Yes! The actuality is, “you think youre” 8 pounds away from true-life joy. Your brand-new, lip-smacking person is almost within reach, but only if you vow worked very hard to and systematically destroy every inch of your old-time soul. So, how would you like to lose 8 pounds?

Exercise and borrow a healthy diet.

Take a dietary supplement.

Hurt my figure with the influenza!

I do not want to lose 8 pounds, because I am an idiot.

-Aha! You seem to be a stupid person who does not want to lose 8 pounds. Well, beneath that additional load is a beautiful and muscular Adonis just waiting to kill the old-fashioned you.

So, how will you get gushed for your total 8-pound makeover?

Check out some weight-loss message boards.

Look at your fantastically scrawny girlfriend.

Remember the days when you werent 8 pounds heavier.

You decide to log onto lard.edu, your favorite bodybuilding health resource.

Log onto lard.com and speak some testimonials.

Log onto lad.com and look at porn.

Incredible. Lad.com is unfortunately best available website on the internet. While the actors svelte forms did in fact see you want to lose 8 pounds, you were so drawn to the red-hot, attractive copulation that you didnt leave your computer for hours. Instead, you gained 2 pounds from sitting and neglected! Whoops.

Log onto the computer again.

Try another weight-loss method.

Start Over

You go to the testimonials section. Yes, this is the stuff you need.

Comment I WANT TO CHANGE MY LIFE.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

You retain scrolling. Its incredible.

Comment THIS IS RELATABLE TO ME.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Great, youre motivated! Now gives lose those pounds!

Comment PLEASE SEND DETAILS ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH YOUR BROTHER.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Hi, lover, says your scrawny lover, ogling you up and down. I heard you are trying to lose 8 pounds. Hey, we should engage in the primal ordinance of sexits great for losing 8 pounds.

Yes, satisfy!

No thanks.

Actually, just kidding, she adds. Sex is for people who have lost 8 pounds. Well have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Oh, okay, thats penalty, I understand, she supposes. I will break up with you then! Makes have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Ah, the days when you were 8 pounds lighter and the world was brighter…the days when all your breathes were unfathomably loose….

Yes, I remember…

I do not remember that.

The dates when you deemed an apple in your hands at all times and smiled…when you wore a tape measure around your waist as jewelry….

Ah, yes…

Still I do not remember…

The dates when your family was still alive….

I remember…my God….

I am ready to lose 8 poundsI swear it.

Ah, the flu! An superb choice. The influenza is the worlds No. 1 sicknes for inducing pounds and pounds of liquid secretion. How would you like to get a slimming, fat-burning sprain of the flu today?

Lick the hands of this flu seasons patient zero.

Ask the hospital for their exploited needles and then jump in a accumulation of them.

Go to the doctor and implore for the most slimming flu he has.

Incredible! You got the flu. The good word is that youre now sicker than youve ever seen, and 3 pounds of liquids “ve already” secreted from your loopholes! The bad news is that your person stands swollen and unsightly. What do you do now?

Go to the doctor and implore for a worse disease.

Continue trying to lose weight with this potentially inept flu.

Great choice! You go to the doctor and entreat for the influenza, best available weight-loss program in the world.

Oh, God, only look at youyou urgently need to lose 8 pounds, does the doctor. I could give you the flu, or I could give you a more extreme weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the flu.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

Great choiceIve been meaning to commit a fun felony and finally play-act this weight-loss procedure on someone, he replies, laying you down. Im going to applied this monkey soul in you and just see what happens with your 8 pounds. How does that voice?

Yes, satisfy, I want to be slim! Make me that monkey heart.

No thanks, Ill take the skinny cancer instead!

While lying lifelessly next to the toilet, you try on your old breathes. Wow, they scarcely fit! Your lip may be parched and your eyes crusted closed, but if you took a shower, youd be 10 days hotter than you were before!

So, how will you lose those remaining 5 pounds?

Keep having the flujust 5 more pounds!

Get some broth to suck on and to continue efforts to dry yourself.

Oh , no! You lost 5 pounds, and then 4 more pounds! The flu was unfortunately more effective, and you discontinued up losing 12 pounds total. You appear scrawny and disgusting, a merely skeleton of the hunk you once were. Maybe try gaining heavines, because right now youre a fitness disaster.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Well, you steamed some hot water over a moo-cow and made yourself some beef broth. But unfortunately, you got better, and you stopped losing load when you were only 2 pounds short of your goal! Sadly, it seems like youre still a blob-like fitness tragedy. Would you like to try another way?

Go back and try another way!

Great choice! You go to the doctor and sidestep for the most difficult, most infectious disease hes get. Perhaps malaria, if he has it.

Oh, Jesus, you urgently need to lose 8 pounds, reads the doctor. I could give you either a altogether untested infection I invented or a radical weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the skinny disease.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

This disease progressed from monkey DNA, but dont perturb, its not AIDS, says your doctor. Hopefully, itll get those 5 standing pounds off!

Sprout hair from every limb.

Pick up a lodge and begin trying to jab it into numerous punctures in the office to look for bugs.

The results are great at first! You eat a healthy, clean nutrition of maggots and vegetation, and almost instantly embarked wincing. Unfortunately, you became more being than monkey, and while your skeleton was contracting into the exact size of a primate, you lost 25 additional pounds. Looks like youll have to try again if you want to lose precisely 8.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Congrats! You now have a monkey heart, which is already 2 pounds lighter than a human nerve. And holy moo-cow, you examine hotbut you feel even hotter. How will you lose those last-place 3 pounds?

By eating chows and vegetation.

By mistaking a squirrel for a potential teammate and trying to persuasion it.

Mmm, beautiful. Mating with a squirrel can burn up to 500 calories in an hour. How will you follow?

Seduce it.

Pass for now and chew some grubs.

You did it! You lost 8 pounds! Its uncertain whether you lost the weight from your brand-new relationship or due to the fact that monkey souls beat 10 meters faster than those of human rights, but no matter! Youre a perfect 8 pounds lighter now, healthy and hot as is also possible. Well done!

Start Over

Great! Seeming hungry, you leave the hospital and see this: a delicious chow! Mmm…what would you like to do?

Eat the grub.

Go for the squirrel instead.

Well, “youve lost” heavines, but you lost too much. This grub was high-flown in protein and low-grade in fat, but its high poison material likewise killed you, developing in too much weight loss( 15 pounds too many !). Next time, try losing less, because this ended up with you looking like a terrifying skeleton creature.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Excellent! Youve chosen to try to lose weight through both rehearsal and a healthy nutrition! But makes be real, large-scale guyyou can probably simply manage doing one of those at a time. Which one would you preferably do?

Exercise.

Diet.

Great! Effort, the brutality we set our figures through in order to look sex. How would you like to start employing today?

Join a gym.

Get a personal trainer.

Try meditating, if that is technically exercise.

Perfect. This is Quinn, your personal trainer.

You will never lose 8 pounds, says your Quinn.

Yes, Quinn, I know.

Sure, youre quiet or some shit for 25 minutes. Fucking cool-ass theme to sit on the storey to employ. Your heavines remains exactly the same. Who attends?

Get up, loser.

Ah, the gym! Therefore welcomed 24 -Hour Muscle Hell, the gym in your metropolitan that you can render! Its adage is You Will Lose 8 Pound Here, so things are finally examining up. What part of the gym would you like to start in?

The weights section.

The cardio section.

The Zumba studio.

The locker room section!

Yes, the heaviness area. The area of the gym that makes your flesh sing in pain! Time to sculpt a brand-new, lighter self from your old, heavier soul!

You look at the coach, who sides you two large metal devices. How will you follow?

Ask for a spotter.

Try to find people form to lift.

We can recognize you, say the strongest people in the gym, grabbing each of your barbells. With our help, youll be able to raise without cracking your sticker in half, and youll lose those 8 poundsguaranteed.

Lift heaviness with them.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

Each of them grabs one of your weights and embarks lifting it on their own. You try to grab on, but they both remark, No, dont contact. Were spotting you , not the other way around.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You can face-lift us up, say the strongest parties in the gym, ambling up to you with their taut forms on display. If you lift us up, youll lose 8 pounds in no timethats a guarantee.

Lift them up.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

You try and try to lift them up. Were heavy, merely swollen with strong muscle tissue, they bellow each time “youre just trying to” lift them up. Hoisting two heavy beings is just the first step to changing their own lives!

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Yes, the cardio slouse. The area of the gym that becomes your middle explode!

Help me, suggests the cardio trainer. The gym has been downloading my muscles through these cables for years.

How will you continue?

Find somebody to chase on the treadmill.

Find somebody to pursue you on the treadmill.

The cardio trainer tries to build opening on the treadmill in order to be allowed to chase him, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve nearly replenished the mainframe with muscle, she responds. This being can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

The cardio trainer tries to constitute cavity on the treadmill so he can chase you, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve virtually replenished the mainframe with muscle, she adds. This soldier can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no weight. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Zumba it is! You walk into the studio, bloated with your 8 additional pounds still lodged deep under your skin.

Kill, your Zumba dojos yell in unison. Kill the man who is slightly heavier than he used to be.

How do you follow?

Fight your dojos.

Surrender to your dojos.

You have chosen to fight your Zumba dojos.

Zumba is a great way to shed additional weight, they wail one by one.

How would you like to fight your antagonists?

Sit on them one by one.

Break a brick in front of them.

Straight up roundhouse-kick them.

Your additional load throws off your aerodynamics a bit, and you end up piercing a pit through the wall.

Okay, sure, they say, bowing. You overcame us. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, so it really doesnt concern too much push. As a upshot, you lost no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You have chosen to surrender to your dojos. You are weak and will never lose 8 pounds, they yell one by one.

How would you like to surrender to your opponents?

Lie on the soil and shriek I continue heavy.

Hit your chief against the stack of ruin committees, but not so difficult that it does any damage.

Okay, sure, “theyre saying”, bowing. Youve emphatically have confirmed that you dont belong here. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, it was therefore certainly doesnt involve too much gesture. As a result, “youve lost” no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Welcome to the locker room, the premier plaza to lose 8 pounds, mentions this gentleman, the cupboard room manager. This is a 24 -hour gym, so Ill be here 24 hours today. Would you like to sign up for a two-hour session of sitting with me?

Do a two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

Two hours pass. You sat well, but somehow you lost no weight.

Great job! he answers, patting you on the back. Would you like to stay for another two-hour session?

Do another two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

<div class="clickventure-node

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[grubhivemind]

-- primadonnaTartuffe [PT] began pestering invincibleDetective [ID] at 22:35 -- 

PT: hi hello anybody home?

ID: Not currently. But I'm listening. 

ID: I hear Dorian's home.

PT: yeup. 

PT: there was a heartfelt tearful reunion between him sirius sage and myself outside skaianet building today. dope shit.

ID: Does sound dope. 

ID: I'll have to remember to stop by.

PT: yeah thatd be cool! making yourself like physically available to people is pretty dope sometimes too. 

PT: hey speaking of. 

PT: what the fuck my guy?????????

ID: ...I didn't realize we were in a position to be making these particular demands.

PT: THATS NOT WHAT I MEAN!!!

ID: So what do you mean?

PT: i mean!! 

PT: why have you been avoiding me?

ID: I've been attending to my own affairs. 

ID: Same as you. 

ID: If that includes avoiding you, then I guess we really should reevaluate the double standards being put in place. 

ID: But I mean. 

ID: If you're going to let any asshole come in and wreck what you're trying to accomplish, why settle on me?

PT: wow okay. 

PT: urrgghh. 

PT: listen i know i fucked up but its not exactly something i can atone for if we arent gonna be straight with each other. 

PT: you were acting all dodgy even before that.

ID: And you weren't? 

ID: Let's not pretend either of us has a fucking clue when it comes to jumping to decisions. 

ID: Decisions maybe we weren't ready for. 

ID: But that's neither here nor there. 

ID: I can't hold myself responsible for your feelings or decisions. Only my own. 

ID: You know I'm crazy about you.

ID: I don't want to get pulled back into this cycle.

PT: well FUCK neither do i??? 

PT: i dont want you to hold yourself responsible for me. i never wanted that! 

PT: but you do!!!! thats why im like walking around eggshells around you. 

PT: you cant stand watching me fuck myself over because you cant handle how powerless it makes you feel. thats it isnt it???? get a clue!!!!! 

PT: i 👏 dont 👏 care 👏 about 👏 being 👏 rescued 👏!!! 

PT: IM SICK JACK. so are YOU. and NOBODY can fix us. NOTHING can fix us. 

PT: both our miserable lives are gonna be filled with us fucking up in varying degrees of severity until were lucky enough to finally bite the big one.

ID: That's almost comforting. As if I'm not vividly aware of how everything ends up in the end. 

ID: But if it's all doomed to shit from the beginning, what's the point in trying? 

ID: It sure as hell isn't me you're disappointing. I've had a hard lesson in learning what I'm about. 

ID: And yeah. I'm not about watching you fuck yourself over again. 

ID: All the while, fucking this... relationship over because neither of us are equipped to handle the reality. 

ID: It isn't about getting fixed. It's about managing and coping enough to live another day. 

ID: That's what you should be focusing on. And what I should be helping you with. 

ID: It sucks that I'm not. And it sucks that you wouldn't let me if I tried. 

ID: So again. What's the point?

PT: arrgghh what the fuck??? 

PT: jack im not trying to shut you out!!! that isnt what i mean. 

PT: youve BEEN helping me. ever since i got back youve been nothing but supportive. 

PT: christ i feel awful about relapsing. i know how it looks. 

PT: but youve made a difference. everyones made a difference. 

PT: i fucked up. thats on me. i want to own up to it instead of running away from it like i always used to. im tired of being that way. 

PT: and i definitely dont wanna run away from something good cuz im afraid of breaking it. 

PT: because when im without it i know exactly what im missing out on. and i know its worth holding onto. 

PT: ... jack. can i please just talk to you in person?

ID: Depends. 

ID: Are you sober?

PT: :/

PT: yes.

ID: I'll make it back to the apartment later on today.

PT: alright. ill be around.

JACK: -Some hours later, Jack makes his way back to the apartment. Coming from who knows where, that detail wasn't important. Anger was still burning like acid in his belly, which he thought was better than the exhaustion that was threatening to overcome him. It was so much better than being detached and absent from the conflict.- 

JACK: -Lumbers into the apartment, apprehension tense on his face and his shoulders.-

RYAN: -she's waiting on the couch, clicking through space netflix or whatever mindlessly while she's waiting for jack to show up, failing miserably to keep herself distracted when all the things she wants to say keep running through her frustrated mind. she's alone, since sage is catching up with her previously absentee twin, and when she hears jack come in she jumps a little in her seat.- 

RYAN: -looks over at him, squaring her shoulders.- ... hey.

JACK: I'm home. -states like that's not obvious. Closes the door behind him, channeling more of that apprehension as he continues to hover by the entrance hall.- Now what. 

JACK: Pleasantries?

RYAN: no. -crap... what DOES she say now? there's too much she wants to say, it's impossible to know where to begin.- 

RYAN: ... can i start by saying im sorry?

JACK: Sorry for... -tries to grasp for words for her.- 

JACK: Falling off the bandwagon? Or... 

JACK: -drags a hand down his face.- Being mutually fucking awful at this feelings thing?

RYAN: i mean... 

RYAN: both kinda? 

RYAN: -looks away with a sigh.- im sorry i always keep this shit to myself. 

RYAN: its like i know people are there for me and i know i can reach them if i need to but ive kinda been lacking the discretion to know when and how and... 

RYAN: i was hanging out with sage the other day and we talked about a lot of things. i dont wanna say i had an EPIPHANY like suddenly everything makes sense and i know how to be a better person whos better at communicating! 

RYAN: but i guess it did help me figure out what i need right now. 

RYAN: so im sorry for holding you at arms length. me being afraid is no excuse to run. if anything its the opposite. -shrugs. she doesn't think it means much just to say these things, but that's about all she can do right now.-

JACK: -It's true. None of this was actually succeeding in making him feel better. For as much as Ryan tried to make sense of the mess of her brain, Jack was having an equally fucking time wading through the muck in his own. He rubs at his neck and shoulder, uncomfortable and uncertain of how the hell he should be behaving.- So... 

JACK: What is it you need?

RYAN: i need to quit being so fucking selfish. -sighs- 

RYAN: because i AM. im stubborn and i hide and i complicate things because i think its better for everyone to try and distance myself and forget about all pain ive caused people. 

RYAN: i need to just... listen to people. really listen to what it means when they say theyre there for me. 

RYAN: it sucks and i feel like a burden but whatever. i have to keep truckin.

JACK: -He feels ill having these things laid out in front of him. Again, he told himself. The word felt scalding and brutal even as he thought it. How the shit he was supposed to make sense of her efforts versus his own (???), Jack had no idea. He exhales painfully, his expression tight.- 

JACK: Where does all this leave me? I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Or what I'm supposed to be doing. 

JACK: Not that I expect you to know but... fuck. 

JACK: -wrings his hands about. Exasperated. Unable to express or even TELL what he was feeling.- We're a fucking mess.

RYAN: -watches the way the confused emotions twist painfully in his expression and mannerisms and matches it with her own.- 

RYAN: ... i know. 

RYAN: but baby you-- youve been doing good... 

RYAN: when i came back home i barely recognized you. you seemed so much more content with yourself and just. -gestures widly.- life! 

RYAN: im not saying i thought you had it all together but shit you made so much progress. -sighs- it made me feel like... i wasnt completely hopeless. it inspired me i guess. especially when you told me... the worst was over. 

RYAN: -runs a hand through her hair- what im saying is i dont think you need to do anything different from what youve been doing. 

RYAN: i just want to be a part of that. without being afraid of fucking it all up for you. 

RYAN: ... i dunno if that makes sense.

JACK: -blind eyes focus and tense at spaces he can't see. Picturing what her face might look like just by her tone of voice.- I can't stand here and pretend like it doesn't make sense. It does, Ryan. 

JACK: But at what cost? We work our asses off to get to a place where we're at least semi-functional, just to... throw it all out of the fucking window as soon as these impossible standards our sick heads start putting into our minds. 

JACK: Jesus fuck! -whips at his forehead, more exasperated than before. His voice echoes off the walls of the apartment.- I turn you into a symbol. You stop being a person, more like someone I have to warp myself to accommodate and-- 

JACK: It's wrong! It's so fucking WRONG that I'm the one that fucks it up for us. Why do we keep letting it get like this?? Why do you keep excusing it?? -hand flops to his side then, like a dead weight as scornfully, he turns his head.- 

JACK: Why can't I just. 

JACK: Be there for you? -scuffs his boot at the ground. The picture of unhappiness.-

RYAN: -at some point she's gotten to her feet, only to wind up stuck in place like she isn't sure where her restlessness wants to take her. instead, she passes her hands through her hair a few times, trying to figure out the answers to all the questions tumbling out of him.- 

RYAN: ... but you have been there for me. 

RYAN: youve been helping me stay on track all this while. whenever i thought i felt myself slipping id go to you cuz i knew youd understand and-- christ. 

RYAN: you literally saved me from getting jumped and who the fuck knows what else mightve happened to me that night. 

RYAN: you said it already... you arent the only who whos been distancing themselves. im not excusing shit. nothing im not doing too. -focuses on him again, taking steps towards him, touching whatever furniture she slowly passes by.- 

RYAN: im scared of dragging you down. im too much work. im scared im poison. 

RYAN: do you see me that way?

JACK: -As her voice floats closer, he finds his weight sagging until his shoulder presses by the hallway wall. Allowing her to approach with his tone nothing more than a mutter.- God damn it... 

JACK: Can't talk to you when you're like this... -says... and despite the words, Jack is wistful.-

RYAN: -huffs a little when she stops, keeping a short distance between them. her hands fiddle with her hair again nervously, but she still watches him carefully.- like what?

JACK: Vulnerable and approachable. And shit. -mumbles around a lopsided crack of a smile. At nothing in particular but if only Jack could see the cute uncertain look on her face. He'd sweep her up right then and there. Instead, he sighs.-

RYAN: -expression softens at the sight of his smile, and it tugs at her heart strings something painful.- ... shut up. im always tough. ill fight you right now. -sad as she is, she has to laugh a little. but when it quickly subsides, she sobers up again.- 

RYAN: jack... -exhales- 

RYAN: you know im not perfect.

RYAN: ive come and gone from your life so many times. everyones lives. i kept things from you. i did it back then and i started doing it again. 

RYAN: of course youre scared or upset. you just wanna help me. 

RYAN: but youre hurt too. youre mad. youre allowed to be. i want you to be. 

RYAN: dont idealize me. and i wont do that to you. 

RYAN: i just... think we can take the ugliness with the good too. i think its worth it.

JACK: -the weariness starts to tug at his expression again... But ultimately, he nods.- Makes sense logically. 

JACK: But ironically, I can't trust myself to know that is how I'm supposed to see things. Not always.

JACK: I'm blind, if you would. To those things. 

JACK: Wraps up pretty-like in the context, if you ask me.

RYAN: -scoffs a little, but she nods.- ... i get that. in a way. 

RYAN: like people tell me all the time i shouldnt feel bad. that im trying and thats all that matters and i should be proud of myself for the progress ive made. 

RYAN: -shrugs- but im not. not really. you know? 

RYAN: i believe what people tell me its just... not as easy to tell myself and believe that.

RYAN: i bury it i guess. so that i dont have to figure out how i really feel about it.

JACK: -closes his eyes and nods sagely. His answer delivered in an equally sage-like way.- It's honest-to-god funnel fry style horseshit.

RYAN: -dammit, she's smiling again. rude ass...- pretty much. 

RYAN: its gonna take a lil more than powdered sugar to make this mess prettier. 

RYAN: ... i never meant to rush into things again. 

RYAN: but i blame our fuckin ridiculous chemistry for that tbh. 

RYAN: i just... wanna be a part of your life. in whatever way i fit into it that works.

JACK: Mmmm. -scratches idly at his chin and neck.- 

JACK: I was personally going to blame the mad crazy ape banana monkey sex dreams you were having. 

JACK: There's been worse reasons to rush into shit, I'm sure.

RYAN: shut up?????? obviously i was avoiding that embarrassingly telling topic you insensitive bitch. -SHOVES HIM, but gently.- 

RYAN: god we are pathetic.

JACK: Ask anyone. Couldn't be a straight shooter if I tried. -reaches for the hands that shove him. Squeezing at them just as gently.- 

JACK: Insensitive bitch is my maiden name.

RYAN: is your middle name stupid ho? -looks at the hands holding hers, heart fluttering suddenly. dammit. she squeezes back till her fingers interlace with his.-

JACK: Ass. It's stupid "ass" ho. -slender fingers fit so thin and perfect beneath his own. He can tell by the simple touch.-

RYAN: ohhhh damn. i was so close. -shuffles her feet a little before she closes some of the distance still between them, resting her head against his shoulder wearily.- 

RYAN: what happens now?

JACK: -grasping at straws, really. He was about to ask her the same question himself. What Jack does do, is bring his arms around her shoulders. Holding her.- Get our respective shits together, I'm hoping. 

JACK: But honestly... 

JACK: Who fucking knows.

RYAN: yeah. -exhales again, trying not to overthink it all, but also not to flee from the uncertainty. it simply is. and in some way, eventually, it'll be alright. she squeezes her arms around him too, savoring what she can of the moment.- 

RYAN: i still think you were onto something back then. 

RYAN: about the worst being over with.

JACK: Maybe... -rests his cheek against her hair.- 

JACK: I wouldn't trust a word that past asshole of me might have said. 

JACK: He's been known to bullshit.

RYAN: -peeks up at him.- goddammit jack stupid ass ho insensitive bitch-crocker...

JACK: -Her peeks give him the opportunity to nuzzle, burying his nose in the short locks of her hair.- Hm... 

JACK: You smell pretty.

RYAN: smell ALL you want. -giggling again, she can't help to take advantage of the proximity -and brush her lips against his cheek in a chaste kiss.-

JACK: Some of the few things I'm reduced to, in my condition. -the smooch on his cheek has him tilting his head that way, reflexively going for a peck to her lips. Unfortunately, the whole execution ends up clumsy and he kisses at her chin instead. Wasted... and realizing what he's doing.- 

JACK: ...Sorry. -diddles between staying and pulling away, the arms turning slack around her shoulders.-

RYAN: -clumsy, but so sweet. she wants to go even less, perhaps against her better judgement. and she doesn't seem to budge much either.- dont be sorry. 

RYAN: but also same.

JACK: -Well someone has to show self control, he tells himself. Or try to. Arms peel from her shoulders until he can rest his hands there. It's then that he leans in again... and kisses at the top of her head.-

RYAN: -her heart sinks when they unfold from each other, but the bittersweet kiss to her forehead serves as another reminder that things will be okay. while he rests his hands on her shoulders, hers find his cheeks, framing him in such a way that he has to know she's looking him right in his smoky eyes.- 

RYAN: ... i love you. -she just needs to remind him.-

JACK: -with delicate palms taking his face, he can almost picture the pretty maroon of her eyes. Maybe his face ends up saying so... but Jack just can't bring himself to figure out what the words meant. If only he could give her the right reply.- That is really.... 

JACK: Enough. 

JACK: It's enough... for us. For now. -says, but not without hesitance. Like he's jumping on a gamble again.-

RYAN: -brushes her thumbs over his skin gently in one last attempt to reassure.- yeah. 

RYAN: it is. -says quietly, but with enough certainty for the both of them. again, for now. she finally draws her hands away then, stepping out from his personal space.- 

RYAN: im gonna... head home now.

JACK: -feels pretty chilly with her hands gone.- ...You sure?

Jake English's #1 Fan-Last Friday at 3:44 AM

RYAN: ... no.

RYAN: i mean i dont want to. -full body shrugging.- 

RYAN: do you... want me to stay?

JACK: Yeah? I mean... 

JACK: Hm. -looks up and around now- 

JACK: I actually don't know what time it is. 

JACK: Or if it's late.

RYAN: -snorts.- its a lil late yeah. 

RYAN: alright then. ill just crash here.

JACK: Our couch might as well have an imprint with your ass on it. Now that you mention it. -brushes by her to lumber deeper into the living room. Hand passing by the furniture as he does so.- Actually I mentioned that. 

JACK: Don't take credit for it.

RYAN: jack mentioning my ass... what a surprise. -watches him before following.- 

RYAN: i will take credit for the perfection of this imprint though. -plops onto the couch and wiggles like she's nestling into the imaginary indent (or is it.)-

JACK: Maybe I should take the couch for a change. -he can imagine what shes doing and is enjoying the imagery.- You can pirate my room.

RYAN: oh? then move bitch im tired of crashing on couches. -unwiggles back onto her feet.- 

RYAN: enjoy the lingering shape of my booty.

JACK: I'll try to not let it lead to anything risque. -fuck you, he's still going into his room. He needs a shower after all.-

RYAN: what you do on your couch is your business. -scampers into the room after him, immediately flopping into the bed so she can get cozy. she's a burrito. it's really a shame he can't see.- :relaxed:

JACK: Touche. -Truely the tragedy of the evening that he can't see. Jack busies himself by fishing for pajamas.- Same goes for what you do on my bed. My business. 

JACK: -And with that he leaves.- Go the fuck to sleep.

RYAN: yeah yeah... goodnight. -hate to see him go, love to watch him leave. :eyes: she rolls deeper into blankets onto her side, letting herself relax enough that she actually gets some restful sleep. it's easy when the sheets smell like him.-

[gooeyguy]

email to my teacher (warning alot of personal stuff)

Hey so, sorry to email you out of nowhere like this? But i feel like maybe im finally at a point where i can explain more thoroughly why im having trouble with school or just succeeding in general. I think its really important that i tell you some of this junk because theres a chance it might make the rest of the year easier for you and me.

I wanted to start off with apologizing for all the trouble ive caused you throughout the year with the annoying comments, disruptions and backtalk.  And most of all the terrible ability i have with doing and turning in work.

This email is mostly to explain my situation and reasoning for acting/struggling the way i have been (not to annoy you or be sarcastic).

Alright so, if you havent noticed i struggle with some things and one of them i never really bring up is ptsd. I have been diagnosed and im hoping to enlighten you on my specific issues with it, (everything i mention will apply to me as to make it less confusing from here on)

 I have a specific type of ptsd called Complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD; also known as complex trauma) This type of ptsd is different in that it results from repetitive, prolonged trauma. My causes for being diagnosed are specifically natural-detachment from my mother and physical/sexual abuse growing up and some other things im not going to mention.

My side effects from this are,

Attachment – "problems with relationship boundaries, lack of trust, social isolation, difficulty perceiving and responding to other's emotional states, and lack of empathy"

This is strongly linked to my reactive attachment disorder and explains alot to why i am the way i am. Heres a link to a website http://www.webmd.com/mental-health/mental-health-reactive-attachment-disorder#1 that explains a bit of what it is so that i do not have to make this already long email that much longer, i would also really appreciate it if you read even just a little.

I have an extreme lack of trust in others and am constantly doubting myself, there is not a second of the day where i dont think im a horrible person, i could be doing better, im disgusting to look at ect. The social isolation is a big problem for me, because im “this way” i feel that bothering others with my presence/problems/medical difficulties ect. is not necessary and for the better. Hence why i refrain from asking when i really need help, im scared to bother you. I dont want to make you angry and i know you and mrs mumford are already so stressed by the time my bell starts.

Biology – "sensory-motor developmental dysfunction, sensory-integration difficulties, somatization, and increased medical problems"

This ties into my Fibromyalgia and eds which ill explain more about after i go through ptsd. Its all kind of one big mixed bag of disorders that tie together and make me the way i am.

Affect or emotional regulation – "poor affect regulation, difficulty identifying and expressing emotions and internal states, and difficulties communicating needs, wants, and wishes"

Like i talked about before i feel extremely useless and annoying when asking for help or even talking about the things i enjoy. And when trying to explain my difficulties i stop midsentence or forget words/forget what my problem is and it becomes frustrating.

Dissociation – "amnesia, depersonalization, discrete states of consciousness with discrete memories, affect, and functioning, and impaired memory for state-based events"

THIS is what i blame for never being able to remember anything. With fibromyalgia i have whats called “brain fog” and with the constant dream like state im in because of dissociation it makes my memory absolutely terrible. Remembering your names in class took me until almost 3rd quarter and it was utterly embarrassing(i still forget sometimes), its even more embarrassing when i forget basic buttons on the calculator and have to ask in front of everyone looking like an idiot.Or when i try to shout out an answer in class and it comes out gibberish because my mind is everywhere all at once, Or when we have a test on the formula we learned a week ago, and of course my mind draws a blank. I cant remember, and it makes me so frustrated with myself that i want to break down right there in class. It renders me doing weird things too, like the other day i put the icecream in the bread drawer, and on sunday i woke up and got ready for school. Theres alot of other things i could say but its as if fibro is laughing in my face.

 Dissociation in my own words is feeling like nothing is real, things dont feel like they happened. What does feel real is the pain/feeling in my body, i am a very anxious and jumpy person so im very sensitive to loud sounds/touch/weather and certain (triggering)  talk among students. And yet i still feel in a daze,My vision will sometimes blur and i am very prone to falling/accidents, staying focused can be extremely frustrating because my brain feels like a cloud, its almost uncontrollable like a dream. I dont think anyone can control those very much so i think its a good example.

Behavioural control – "problems with impulse control, aggression, pathological self-soothing, and sleep problems"

Im pretty okay with impulses, i of course have alot of very impulsive thoughts but i am good at controlling them id say, same with aggression but i very much so struggle with sleep problems because of nightmares from ptsd and chronic pain from fibro, i have not been diagnosed with insomnia but im sure i fit the criteria im just really bad at opening up with doctors/people ect.

These are just a couple more symptoms to help explain,

Cognition – "difficulty regulating attention, problems with a variety of "executive functions" such as planning, judgement, initiation, use of materials, and self-monitoring, difficulty processing new information, difficulty focusing and completing tasks, poor object constancy, problems with "cause-effect" thinking, and language developmental problems such as a gap between receptive and expressive communication abilities."

Self-concept – "fragmented and disconnected autobiographical narrative, disturbed body image, low self-esteem, excessive shame, and negative internal working models of self".

Alterations in relations with others, including isolation and withdrawal, persistent distrust, a repeated search for a rescuer, disruption in intimate relationships and repeated failures of self-protection.

Loss of, or changes in, one's system of meanings, which may include a loss of sustaining faith or a sense of hopelessness and despair.

Variations in consciousness, including forgetting traumatic events (i.e., psychogenic amnesia), reliving experiences (either in the form of intrusive PTSD symptoms or in ruminative preoccupation), or having episodes of dissociation.

Changes in self-perception, such as a chronic and pervasive sense of helplessness, paralysis of initiative, shame, guilt, self-blame, a sense of defilement or stigma, and a sense of being completely different from other human beings

Now that im done explaining the ptsd, Fibromyalgia

Fibromyalgia is a chronic pain disorder that my doctor believes to be linked to my other disorders, Fibromyalgia has to do with the senses we as humans all have, feeling, hearing, taste, and sight. The difference between someone with fibro and an average healthy person is lets say theres a knob for how strong each of these senses are, so imagine someone taking all those knobs and turning them all the way up to max sensitivity. Youd think oh cool youre like a super hero (like my sister likes to say) but no its the exact opposite, it does not benefit me whatsoever. Feeling, paired with ehlers danlos syndrome both my joints and my muscles are constantly in pain and some days ill have what you call a “flare up” which is where getting out of bed usually isnt an option for my body, i cannot remember the last time i didnt feel at least a dull ache in my head, i get migraines at least once everyday and unfortunately i get nauseous so i dont eat very much . Almost everything is irritating to my skin, a simple light rub of my finger on the top of my forearm is irritating and raw feeling (like ive been sitting there rubbing the same spot for hours) /Writing is over all painful, including typing as well/

If youve ever woken up in the morning with sore muscles from pushing yourself too hard the day before,that is how the muscles in my body feel, if you press on them they ache, and sting/burn when i use them. painful touch for most of my body paired with constant anxiety of getting bumped into/touched is stressful and tiring. On a good day my pain scale is a 5 from 1-10 but thats if im really lucky.

Then theres the weather, if im too hot and i start to sweat, the sweat stings my skin and i end up going into a frenzy of scratching and agony.  If its too cold my joints will start to lock up and become painful, its like they freeze and when i move them it feels like im shattering ice in my hand mixed with dull muscle ache. If its a good temperature theres still the feeling and i swear, the sound i can hear of my joints grinding together like two pieces of rubber being rubbed against eachother slowly.

Hearing is also bad, loud sounds are very irritating to my ears and will cause my migraine to get worse.(Talking too loud)Other irritating sounds, paper rubbing against paper roughly making that blblblb sound, high pitched noises of any loudness, squeaks, repetitive beeps ect.

Sight wise turning on lights abruptly is painful and makes my migraine worse, any bright light in general.

Taste doesnt really matter so i wont mention, but because these knobs are turned full blast it means the nerves and pain receptors in my body are being over worked constantly by my brain

And my brain thinks its doing its job by constantly acting like ive been running triathalons.

The recollection of pain comes in avalanches of distress for me. I usually experience the intense turmoil of fibromyalgia in the winter, or whenever cold fronts shatter the air and its frail victims. My limbs cannot contain the strength possible to function during those cold spells. Fibromyalgia’s lengthy sentence comes and goes for some, but, as a teenager, it’s disheartening. For the rest of my life, I will never be able to remember living without every waking moment marked by pain.

The abnormality of fibro weighs on my shoulders when I’m asleep, awake, or anywhere inbetween. I wake up at 4:30 each morning in order to be shuffling around by 6:20 a.m. The heaviness of my body pulls me down and pains me as I take a shower, put on my clothes, and put my small backpack on my shoulder to head out to school. Any sense of touch creates extreme levels of pain for me. Touching my arm, poking my leg, and brushing against my back hurt as much as twisting my ankle. My distraught reaction is a lot like a dog crying in pain and distrust after you accidentally step on its paw. Because im always in pain im always right next to the emotional breaking point, im always on the verge of tears. The smallest things can make me break down.

The pain prohibits me from being a teenager. Thanks to fibro, I cannot dress up in my favorite clothes and be what you call “Extra” everyday as i so much wish to be during the winter. My hands are crooked and shake too much usually to apply makeup. I struggle with applying eyeliner, because my hands hurt too much wrapped around a brush. The uncomfortable school chairs make me weep when I return home, because they destroy my concentration, forcing me to focus on the overwhelming pain I feel. I used to excel in school, but now, I can barely think fast enough, and come off as ditzy. I feel like I’m constantly struggling to maintain the fragments of my intelligence I lost due to fibro medication and fibromyalgia itself.

My GPA, became my ball and chain in school, rather than an accomplishment worth sharing. During the year, my schedule is dictated by the weather. Cold weather causes agonizing, excruciating pain that races down my spine and branches through my limbs. If a cold front passes, rain falls, snow falls, or temperatures drop, I freeze like the Tin Man, except there isn’t any oil to move my joints. The way I get sleep should be considered a torture method. Many people feel refreshed or renewed when they wake up after 8 hours, but I feel completely restless and exhausted. And thats if the nightmares from the PTSD dont interrupt. I toss and turn for hours in pain, because the pain signals interrupt the sleep cycle. I cry intensely whenever I think of sleep; school usually means a lack of sleep, but I am further deprived without choice. My biological system cannot allow me to rest, and continues to tense my muscles in a constant state of flight or fight.

With most schools starting at 8 a.m., my body struggles to run on 8 hours of sleep (which really feels like two). The exhaustion prevents me from hanging out with some of my closest friends. In the early stages of having fibromyalgia, I used to be able to do school clubs, hang out with my best friend, and go to cons with my friends often. Now, I spend my time huddled down, trying to make up for the nights of lost sleep. The lack of sleep and the endless pain contribute to extreme depression. And to keep my mood relatively happy i act like a goose in school with friends which doesnt do me good with teachers, I do it to not break down and let myself get too low around others because i know id regret embarrassing myself like that more than anything. The pain yearns for my thoughts to leap toward suicidal thoughts, and I was obsessed with death for years and still am. There was a time when I searched for ways to end my life, because nobody could help me and I couldn’t face living the rest of my life knowing that I’ll always be in pain. I still have these thoughts, and I believe I always will as long as I emit pain. Hence why i was in the hospital for a week recently, the hopelessness and embarrassment is dragging me down. The whole idea of having fibromyalgia embarrasses me. I’m embarrassed that I am constantly being called crippled, disabled, or chronically ill.Or worse not being noticed at all while struggling. I’m embarrassed that fibromyalgia makes me feel like I’m 67 instead of 16. I’m embarrassed that I will never be able to be an artsy beat poet like Patti Smith, or a rock ‘n’ roll guitarist like Keith Richards.

So i think thats as much as i can cover for you right now with my two of my biggest problems , im extremely exhausted and im not joking when i say my fingers feel like they are gonna fall off haha.  

Im terribly sorry for how long this email is but i think i got most everything with these two topics in there, also dont feel obliged to reply to this, im already embarrassed i even wrote all this down (terribly).

Quick thing i would like to say before i end the email, with all respect i am not looking for sympathy in any way. I am simply stating the way i am  in hopes that if you understand itll make things less stressful for me and you. So dont feel like you have to do anything for me.  

Thankyou for reading if you got this far, really. (btw forwarding this to Mrs. m******d is totally okay with me)

[apsbicepstraining]

Can You Lose 8 Pounds?

This peculiarity compels JavaScript to function.

Hello. If youre learn this right now, its because you want to make a change. Youre here because youve always been huge, but now your largeness has already become revolt. You are here because God has cursed you with a flabby paunch, and you dislike the style it rebounds and oozes.

You are here, candidly, because you have nowhere else to turn.

I want to take control of my life.

I want to die a lonely, ruined person who is full of bitternes because I never took community initiatives.

Yes! The first step to succumbing a lonely, broken person who is full of regret is admitting to yourself that you want to die a lonely, busted person who is full of bitternes. Today is the day you embark on that footpath. Disappear out in the world, get down this computer, and hug the darkness.

Start Over

Incredible. Its time to begin anew! Its duration for a brand-new, less fleshy assembly. To start, take a good, hard look at yourself. Thisthis is you now.

Okay.

And this was youthis was you 8 glorious pounds ago.

Oh, wow.

No, its not.

Look, denial is a sign of weakness. Seem into your own sees. If youre going to make a change, you must accept that this perfect, chiseled muscle domain used to be yours.

I countenanced myself.

Yes! The actuality is, “you think youre” 8 pounds away from true-life joy. Your brand-new, lip-smacking person is almost within reach, but only if you vow worked very hard to and systematically destroy every inch of your old-time soul. So, how would you like to lose 8 pounds?

Exercise and borrow a healthy diet.

Take a dietary supplement.

Hurt my figure with the influenza!

I do not want to lose 8 pounds, because I am an idiot.

-Aha! You seem to be a stupid person who does not want to lose 8 pounds. Well, beneath that additional load is a beautiful and muscular Adonis just waiting to kill the old-fashioned you.

So, how will you get gushed for your total 8-pound makeover?

Check out some weight-loss message boards.

Look at your fantastically scrawny girlfriend.

Remember the days when you werent 8 pounds heavier.

You decide to log onto lard.edu, your favorite bodybuilding health resource.

Log onto lard.com and speak some testimonials.

Log onto lad.com and look at porn.

Incredible. Lad.com is unfortunately best available website on the internet. While the actors svelte forms did in fact see you want to lose 8 pounds, you were so drawn to the red-hot, attractive copulation that you didnt leave your computer for hours. Instead, you gained 2 pounds from sitting and neglected! Whoops.

Log onto the computer again.

Try another weight-loss method.

Start Over

You go to the testimonials section. Yes, this is the stuff you need.

Comment I WANT TO CHANGE MY LIFE.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

You retain scrolling. Its incredible.

Comment THIS IS RELATABLE TO ME.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Great, youre motivated! Now gives lose those pounds!

Comment PLEASE SEND DETAILS ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH YOUR BROTHER.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Hi, lover, says your scrawny lover, ogling you up and down. I heard you are trying to lose 8 pounds. Hey, we should engage in the primal ordinance of sexits great for losing 8 pounds.

Yes, satisfy!

No thanks.

Actually, just kidding, she adds. Sex is for people who have lost 8 pounds. Well have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Oh, okay, thats penalty, I understand, she supposes. I will break up with you then! Makes have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Ah, the days when you were 8 pounds lighter and the world was brighter…the days when all your breathes were unfathomably loose….

Yes, I remember…

I do not remember that.

The dates when you deemed an apple in your hands at all times and smiled…when you wore a tape measure around your waist as jewelry….

Ah, yes…

Still I do not remember…

The dates when your family was still alive….

I remember…my God….

I am ready to lose 8 poundsI swear it.

Ah, the flu! An superb choice. The influenza is the worlds No. 1 sicknes for inducing pounds and pounds of liquid secretion. How would you like to get a slimming, fat-burning sprain of the flu today?

Lick the hands of this flu seasons patient zero.

Ask the hospital for their exploited needles and then jump in a accumulation of them.

Go to the doctor and implore for the most slimming flu he has.

Incredible! You got the flu. The good word is that youre now sicker than youve ever seen, and 3 pounds of liquids “ve already” secreted from your loopholes! The bad news is that your person stands swollen and unsightly. What do you do now?

Go to the doctor and implore for a worse disease.

Continue trying to lose weight with this potentially inept flu.

Great choice! You go to the doctor and entreat for the influenza, best available weight-loss program in the world.

Oh, God, only look at youyou urgently need to lose 8 pounds, does the doctor. I could give you the flu, or I could give you a more extreme weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the flu.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

Great choiceIve been meaning to commit a fun felony and finally play-act this weight-loss procedure on someone, he replies, laying you down. Im going to applied this monkey soul in you and just see what happens with your 8 pounds. How does that voice?

Yes, satisfy, I want to be slim! Make me that monkey heart.

No thanks, Ill take the skinny cancer instead!

While lying lifelessly next to the toilet, you try on your old breathes. Wow, they scarcely fit! Your lip may be parched and your eyes crusted closed, but if you took a shower, youd be 10 days hotter than you were before!

So, how will you lose those remaining 5 pounds?

Keep having the flujust 5 more pounds!

Get some broth to suck on and to continue efforts to dry yourself.

Oh , no! You lost 5 pounds, and then 4 more pounds! The flu was unfortunately more effective, and you discontinued up losing 12 pounds total. You appear scrawny and disgusting, a merely skeleton of the hunk you once were. Maybe try gaining heavines, because right now youre a fitness disaster.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Well, you steamed some hot water over a moo-cow and made yourself some beef broth. But unfortunately, you got better, and you stopped losing load when you were only 2 pounds short of your goal! Sadly, it seems like youre still a blob-like fitness tragedy. Would you like to try another way?

Go back and try another way!

Great choice! You go to the doctor and sidestep for the most difficult, most infectious disease hes get. Perhaps malaria, if he has it.

Oh, Jesus, you urgently need to lose 8 pounds, reads the doctor. I could give you either a altogether untested infection I invented or a radical weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the skinny disease.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

This disease progressed from monkey DNA, but dont perturb, its not AIDS, says your doctor. Hopefully, itll get those 5 standing pounds off!

Sprout hair from every limb.

Pick up a lodge and begin trying to jab it into numerous punctures in the office to look for bugs.

The results are great at first! You eat a healthy, clean nutrition of maggots and vegetation, and almost instantly embarked wincing. Unfortunately, you became more being than monkey, and while your skeleton was contracting into the exact size of a primate, you lost 25 additional pounds. Looks like youll have to try again if you want to lose precisely 8.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Congrats! You now have a monkey heart, which is already 2 pounds lighter than a human nerve. And holy moo-cow, you examine hotbut you feel even hotter. How will you lose those last-place 3 pounds?

By eating chows and vegetation.

By mistaking a squirrel for a potential teammate and trying to persuasion it.

Mmm, beautiful. Mating with a squirrel can burn up to 500 calories in an hour. How will you follow?

Seduce it.

Pass for now and chew some grubs.

You did it! You lost 8 pounds! Its uncertain whether you lost the weight from your brand-new relationship or due to the fact that monkey souls beat 10 meters faster than those of human rights, but no matter! Youre a perfect 8 pounds lighter now, healthy and hot as is also possible. Well done!

Start Over

Great! Seeming hungry, you leave the hospital and see this: a delicious chow! Mmm…what would you like to do?

Eat the grub.

Go for the squirrel instead.

Well, “youve lost” heavines, but you lost too much. This grub was high-flown in protein and low-grade in fat, but its high poison material likewise killed you, developing in too much weight loss( 15 pounds too many !). Next time, try losing less, because this ended up with you looking like a terrifying skeleton creature.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Excellent! Youve chosen to try to lose weight through both rehearsal and a healthy nutrition! But makes be real, large-scale guyyou can probably simply manage doing one of those at a time. Which one would you preferably do?

Exercise.

Diet.

Great! Effort, the brutality we set our figures through in order to look sex. How would you like to start employing today?

Join a gym.

Get a personal trainer.

Try meditating, if that is technically exercise.

Perfect. This is Quinn, your personal trainer.

You will never lose 8 pounds, says your Quinn.

Yes, Quinn, I know.

Sure, youre quiet or some shit for 25 minutes. Fucking cool-ass theme to sit on the storey to employ. Your heavines remains exactly the same. Who attends?

Get up, loser.

Ah, the gym! Therefore welcomed 24 -Hour Muscle Hell, the gym in your metropolitan that you can render! Its adage is You Will Lose 8 Pound Here, so things are finally examining up. What part of the gym would you like to start in?

The weights section.

The cardio section.

The Zumba studio.

The locker room section!

Yes, the heaviness area. The area of the gym that makes your flesh sing in pain! Time to sculpt a brand-new, lighter self from your old, heavier soul!

You look at the coach, who sides you two large metal devices. How will you follow?

Ask for a spotter.

Try to find people form to lift.

We can recognize you, say the strongest people in the gym, grabbing each of your barbells. With our help, youll be able to raise without cracking your sticker in half, and youll lose those 8 poundsguaranteed.

Lift heaviness with them.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

Each of them grabs one of your weights and embarks lifting it on their own. You try to grab on, but they both remark, No, dont contact. Were spotting you , not the other way around.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You can face-lift us up, say the strongest parties in the gym, ambling up to you with their taut forms on display. If you lift us up, youll lose 8 pounds in no timethats a guarantee.

Lift them up.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

You try and try to lift them up. Were heavy, merely swollen with strong muscle tissue, they bellow each time “youre just trying to” lift them up. Hoisting two heavy beings is just the first step to changing their own lives!

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Yes, the cardio slouse. The area of the gym that becomes your middle explode!

Help me, suggests the cardio trainer. The gym has been downloading my muscles through these cables for years.

How will you continue?

Find somebody to chase on the treadmill.

Find somebody to pursue you on the treadmill.

The cardio trainer tries to build opening on the treadmill in order to be allowed to chase him, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve nearly replenished the mainframe with muscle, she responds. This being can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

The cardio trainer tries to constitute cavity on the treadmill so he can chase you, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve virtually replenished the mainframe with muscle, she adds. This soldier can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no weight. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Zumba it is! You walk into the studio, bloated with your 8 additional pounds still lodged deep under your skin.

Kill, your Zumba dojos yell in unison. Kill the man who is slightly heavier than he used to be.

How do you follow?

Fight your dojos.

Surrender to your dojos.

You have chosen to fight your Zumba dojos.

Zumba is a great way to shed additional weight, they wail one by one.

How would you like to fight your antagonists?

Sit on them one by one.

Break a brick in front of them.

Straight up roundhouse-kick them.

Your additional load throws off your aerodynamics a bit, and you end up piercing a pit through the wall.

Okay, sure, they say, bowing. You overcame us. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, so it really doesnt concern too much push. As a upshot, you lost no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You have chosen to surrender to your dojos. You are weak and will never lose 8 pounds, they yell one by one.

How would you like to surrender to your opponents?

Lie on the soil and shriek I continue heavy.

Hit your chief against the stack of ruin committees, but not so difficult that it does any damage.

Okay, sure, “theyre saying”, bowing. Youve emphatically have confirmed that you dont belong here. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, it was therefore certainly doesnt involve too much gesture. As a result, “youve lost” no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Welcome to the locker room, the premier plaza to lose 8 pounds, mentions this gentleman, the cupboard room manager. This is a 24 -hour gym, so Ill be here 24 hours today. Would you like to sign up for a two-hour session of sitting with me?

Do a two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

Two hours pass. You sat well, but somehow you lost no weight.

Great job! he answers, patting you on the back. Would you like to stay for another two-hour session?

Do another two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

<div class="clickventure-node

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[apsbicepstraining]

Can You Lose 8 Pounds?

This peculiarity compels JavaScript to function.

Hello. If youre learn this right now, its because you want to make a change. Youre here because youve always been huge, but now your largeness has already become revolt. You are here because God has cursed you with a flabby paunch, and you dislike the style it rebounds and oozes.

You are here, candidly, because you have nowhere else to turn.

I want to take control of my life.

I want to die a lonely, ruined person who is full of bitternes because I never took community initiatives.

Yes! The first step to succumbing a lonely, broken person who is full of regret is admitting to yourself that you want to die a lonely, busted person who is full of bitternes. Today is the day you embark on that footpath. Disappear out in the world, get down this computer, and hug the darkness.

Start Over

Incredible. Its time to begin anew! Its duration for a brand-new, less fleshy assembly. To start, take a good, hard look at yourself. Thisthis is you now.

Okay.

And this was youthis was you 8 glorious pounds ago.

Oh, wow.

No, its not.

Look, denial is a sign of weakness. Seem into your own sees. If youre going to make a change, you must accept that this perfect, chiseled muscle domain used to be yours.

I countenanced myself.

Yes! The actuality is, “you think youre” 8 pounds away from true-life joy. Your brand-new, lip-smacking person is almost within reach, but only if you vow worked very hard to and systematically destroy every inch of your old-time soul. So, how would you like to lose 8 pounds?

Exercise and borrow a healthy diet.

Take a dietary supplement.

Hurt my figure with the influenza!

I do not want to lose 8 pounds, because I am an idiot.

-Aha! You seem to be a stupid person who does not want to lose 8 pounds. Well, beneath that additional load is a beautiful and muscular Adonis just waiting to kill the old-fashioned you.

So, how will you get gushed for your total 8-pound makeover?

Check out some weight-loss message boards.

Look at your fantastically scrawny girlfriend.

Remember the days when you werent 8 pounds heavier.

You decide to log onto lard.edu, your favorite bodybuilding health resource.

Log onto lard.com and speak some testimonials.

Log onto lad.com and look at porn.

Incredible. Lad.com is unfortunately best available website on the internet. While the actors svelte forms did in fact see you want to lose 8 pounds, you were so drawn to the red-hot, attractive copulation that you didnt leave your computer for hours. Instead, you gained 2 pounds from sitting and neglected! Whoops.

Log onto the computer again.

Try another weight-loss method.

Start Over

You go to the testimonials section. Yes, this is the stuff you need.

Comment I WANT TO CHANGE MY LIFE.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

You retain scrolling. Its incredible.

Comment THIS IS RELATABLE TO ME.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Great, youre motivated! Now gives lose those pounds!

Comment PLEASE SEND DETAILS ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH YOUR BROTHER.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Hi, lover, says your scrawny lover, ogling you up and down. I heard you are trying to lose 8 pounds. Hey, we should engage in the primal ordinance of sexits great for losing 8 pounds.

Yes, satisfy!

No thanks.

Actually, just kidding, she adds. Sex is for people who have lost 8 pounds. Well have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Oh, okay, thats penalty, I understand, she supposes. I will break up with you then! Makes have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Ah, the days when you were 8 pounds lighter and the world was brighter…the days when all your breathes were unfathomably loose….

Yes, I remember…

I do not remember that.

The dates when you deemed an apple in your hands at all times and smiled…when you wore a tape measure around your waist as jewelry….

Ah, yes…

Still I do not remember…

The dates when your family was still alive….

I remember…my God….

I am ready to lose 8 poundsI swear it.

Ah, the flu! An superb choice. The influenza is the worlds No. 1 sicknes for inducing pounds and pounds of liquid secretion. How would you like to get a slimming, fat-burning sprain of the flu today?

Lick the hands of this flu seasons patient zero.

Ask the hospital for their exploited needles and then jump in a accumulation of them.

Go to the doctor and implore for the most slimming flu he has.

Incredible! You got the flu. The good word is that youre now sicker than youve ever seen, and 3 pounds of liquids “ve already” secreted from your loopholes! The bad news is that your person stands swollen and unsightly. What do you do now?

Go to the doctor and implore for a worse disease.

Continue trying to lose weight with this potentially inept flu.

Great choice! You go to the doctor and entreat for the influenza, best available weight-loss program in the world.

Oh, God, only look at youyou urgently need to lose 8 pounds, does the doctor. I could give you the flu, or I could give you a more extreme weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the flu.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

Great choiceIve been meaning to commit a fun felony and finally play-act this weight-loss procedure on someone, he replies, laying you down. Im going to applied this monkey soul in you and just see what happens with your 8 pounds. How does that voice?

Yes, satisfy, I want to be slim! Make me that monkey heart.

No thanks, Ill take the skinny cancer instead!

While lying lifelessly next to the toilet, you try on your old breathes. Wow, they scarcely fit! Your lip may be parched and your eyes crusted closed, but if you took a shower, youd be 10 days hotter than you were before!

So, how will you lose those remaining 5 pounds?

Keep having the flujust 5 more pounds!

Get some broth to suck on and to continue efforts to dry yourself.

Oh , no! You lost 5 pounds, and then 4 more pounds! The flu was unfortunately more effective, and you discontinued up losing 12 pounds total. You appear scrawny and disgusting, a merely skeleton of the hunk you once were. Maybe try gaining heavines, because right now youre a fitness disaster.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Well, you steamed some hot water over a moo-cow and made yourself some beef broth. But unfortunately, you got better, and you stopped losing load when you were only 2 pounds short of your goal! Sadly, it seems like youre still a blob-like fitness tragedy. Would you like to try another way?

Go back and try another way!

Great choice! You go to the doctor and sidestep for the most difficult, most infectious disease hes get. Perhaps malaria, if he has it.

Oh, Jesus, you urgently need to lose 8 pounds, reads the doctor. I could give you either a altogether untested infection I invented or a radical weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the skinny disease.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

This disease progressed from monkey DNA, but dont perturb, its not AIDS, says your doctor. Hopefully, itll get those 5 standing pounds off!

Sprout hair from every limb.

Pick up a lodge and begin trying to jab it into numerous punctures in the office to look for bugs.

The results are great at first! You eat a healthy, clean nutrition of maggots and vegetation, and almost instantly embarked wincing. Unfortunately, you became more being than monkey, and while your skeleton was contracting into the exact size of a primate, you lost 25 additional pounds. Looks like youll have to try again if you want to lose precisely 8.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Congrats! You now have a monkey heart, which is already 2 pounds lighter than a human nerve. And holy moo-cow, you examine hotbut you feel even hotter. How will you lose those last-place 3 pounds?

By eating chows and vegetation.

By mistaking a squirrel for a potential teammate and trying to persuasion it.

Mmm, beautiful. Mating with a squirrel can burn up to 500 calories in an hour. How will you follow?

Seduce it.

Pass for now and chew some grubs.

You did it! You lost 8 pounds! Its uncertain whether you lost the weight from your brand-new relationship or due to the fact that monkey souls beat 10 meters faster than those of human rights, but no matter! Youre a perfect 8 pounds lighter now, healthy and hot as is also possible. Well done!

Start Over

Great! Seeming hungry, you leave the hospital and see this: a delicious chow! Mmm…what would you like to do?

Eat the grub.

Go for the squirrel instead.

Well, “youve lost” heavines, but you lost too much. This grub was high-flown in protein and low-grade in fat, but its high poison material likewise killed you, developing in too much weight loss( 15 pounds too many !). Next time, try losing less, because this ended up with you looking like a terrifying skeleton creature.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Excellent! Youve chosen to try to lose weight through both rehearsal and a healthy nutrition! But makes be real, large-scale guyyou can probably simply manage doing one of those at a time. Which one would you preferably do?

Exercise.

Diet.

Great! Effort, the brutality we set our figures through in order to look sex. How would you like to start employing today?

Join a gym.

Get a personal trainer.

Try meditating, if that is technically exercise.

Perfect. This is Quinn, your personal trainer.

You will never lose 8 pounds, says your Quinn.

Yes, Quinn, I know.

Sure, youre quiet or some shit for 25 minutes. Fucking cool-ass theme to sit on the storey to employ. Your heavines remains exactly the same. Who attends?

Get up, loser.

Ah, the gym! Therefore welcomed 24 -Hour Muscle Hell, the gym in your metropolitan that you can render! Its adage is You Will Lose 8 Pound Here, so things are finally examining up. What part of the gym would you like to start in?

The weights section.

The cardio section.

The Zumba studio.

The locker room section!

Yes, the heaviness area. The area of the gym that makes your flesh sing in pain! Time to sculpt a brand-new, lighter self from your old, heavier soul!

You look at the coach, who sides you two large metal devices. How will you follow?

Ask for a spotter.

Try to find people form to lift.

We can recognize you, say the strongest people in the gym, grabbing each of your barbells. With our help, youll be able to raise without cracking your sticker in half, and youll lose those 8 poundsguaranteed.

Lift heaviness with them.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

Each of them grabs one of your weights and embarks lifting it on their own. You try to grab on, but they both remark, No, dont contact. Were spotting you , not the other way around.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You can face-lift us up, say the strongest parties in the gym, ambling up to you with their taut forms on display. If you lift us up, youll lose 8 pounds in no timethats a guarantee.

Lift them up.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

You try and try to lift them up. Were heavy, merely swollen with strong muscle tissue, they bellow each time “youre just trying to” lift them up. Hoisting two heavy beings is just the first step to changing their own lives!

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Yes, the cardio slouse. The area of the gym that becomes your middle explode!

Help me, suggests the cardio trainer. The gym has been downloading my muscles through these cables for years.

How will you continue?

Find somebody to chase on the treadmill.

Find somebody to pursue you on the treadmill.

The cardio trainer tries to build opening on the treadmill in order to be allowed to chase him, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve nearly replenished the mainframe with muscle, she responds. This being can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

The cardio trainer tries to constitute cavity on the treadmill so he can chase you, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve virtually replenished the mainframe with muscle, she adds. This soldier can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no weight. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Zumba it is! You walk into the studio, bloated with your 8 additional pounds still lodged deep under your skin.

Kill, your Zumba dojos yell in unison. Kill the man who is slightly heavier than he used to be.

How do you follow?

Fight your dojos.

Surrender to your dojos.

You have chosen to fight your Zumba dojos.

Zumba is a great way to shed additional weight, they wail one by one.

How would you like to fight your antagonists?

Sit on them one by one.

Break a brick in front of them.

Straight up roundhouse-kick them.

Your additional load throws off your aerodynamics a bit, and you end up piercing a pit through the wall.

Okay, sure, they say, bowing. You overcame us. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, so it really doesnt concern too much push. As a upshot, you lost no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You have chosen to surrender to your dojos. You are weak and will never lose 8 pounds, they yell one by one.

How would you like to surrender to your opponents?

Lie on the soil and shriek I continue heavy.

Hit your chief against the stack of ruin committees, but not so difficult that it does any damage.

Okay, sure, “theyre saying”, bowing. Youve emphatically have confirmed that you dont belong here. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, it was therefore certainly doesnt involve too much gesture. As a result, “youve lost” no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Welcome to the locker room, the premier plaza to lose 8 pounds, mentions this gentleman, the cupboard room manager. This is a 24 -hour gym, so Ill be here 24 hours today. Would you like to sign up for a two-hour session of sitting with me?

Do a two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

Two hours pass. You sat well, but somehow you lost no weight.

Great job! he answers, patting you on the back. Would you like to stay for another two-hour session?

Do another two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

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