rest day food

I'm bloated and full as fuck BUT I ate a real amount of food today and I guess I should just be proud and not freak out about it.

(Intake posted below)-

Meal 1: two pieces of toast with earth balance and marmite.
Meal 2: red lentil pasta with nooch and salt and pepper.
Meal 3: two Trader Joe’s fruit wrap bars.
Meal 4: 4 Dr. Pragers vegetable patties with lettuce “buns” and ketchup. Kombucha!
Meal 5: a serving of Trader Joe’s lemon bites.
Meal 6: almond milk vanilla yogurt with a small handful of coconut almond granola. And a coffee cake fiber one bar.

And then on top of that, no work out today. So I’m definitely feeling a bit shitty tbh. But trying to just push through and realize that this isn’t too much. It isn’t “bad” and I won’t get “fat” all of a sudden by eating.
Breathe paignton. Breathe.

You Won’t Miss Much, Part Two

Hello! So here is chapter two, ft. Worried!Fenrys

I also learned a bit of history/mythology the other day! Sellene is one of the primordial gods in Greek history, and Endymion was her lover who was killed. They are also Rowan’s cousins, who are both mentioned in EoS! Sorry, my inner nerd.

Summary: It’s been months since the war that changed every aspect of life in Erilea. Aelin Galathynius has survived against all odds and now is the rightful queen of Terrasen, but there are demons that still haunt both her and her court. And when she sends her king to deal with the rising tensions in Eyllwe, those demons begin their assault on everyone’s mind. And in the midst of it all, another surprise will either be the making or breaking of Aelin.

Warnings: Mentions of rape. Suicidal thoughts, torture, insomina, ptsd, depression.

Word Count: 3070

Chapter One.  Chapter Three


If Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius didn’t get something to eat in about two minutes, he was going to end someone’s life. He glanced around at his companions, who all seemed to be sharing his feelings of coldness, tiredness, and hunger. He’d been on much tougher war campaigns, ones where they’d had to abandon their horses because the snow was too deep, or the ones where they’d gone days without rest or food, but somehow this one was fraying his nerves much more than those ever had. 

 Perhaps it was what Aelin had awoken him with last night…

 Rowan shook his head, and spurred his horse a bit, hissing as the animal clomped into a large puddle he hadn’t noticed. Aedion, who had been riding unusually quite beside him, laughed dryly.

“Not enough sleep last few nights, Your Majesty?” The male’s smarmy grin was enough for Rowan to get what he was suggesting.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, without looking back at him. Aedion made a sound of protest, and sped up his horse to catch up with Rowan. “Never mind that,” he said, the words coming out with a puff of steam in the cold air. The golden male looked back towards the rest of the party behind him, a smiling catching on his face as he saw Gavriel looking miserable at the back. 

They’d only brought three lords, the ones Aelin trusted, and three guards. But the lords, the finicky bastards, had insisted they bring a few of their servants with them. But still it was a small party, considering the task Aelin had sent him with; heal the bonds, ease people’s minds. Aedion had insisted they bring more, but Rowan had only said that more would look too much like an invasion.

“You know,” Aedion whispered. “It’ll take us two months to get there if we don’t hurry our pace.”  He was right, they’d miss their ship if they didn’t hurry. The plan was to ride to Ilium, then board on of the ship’s bound for Eyllwe. Rowan nodded his assent, the crown on his head heavy, and he raised a hand to steady it.

“Do I really have to wear this the entire journey?” He hissed, snapping his gaze to his general, who only laughed. “I suppose so.” Rowan braced himself as a wicked grin spread across Aedion’s tan face. “But, if you had agreed to taking a carriage—” Rowan groaned and let his head droop a bit. “You’d only have to wear it outside!”

“I am certainly not riding in a carriage like some polished little prince.” Aedion laughed, his eyes sparkling. Rowan felt another pang of hunger strike his belly, and he grabbed the pocket watch Aelin had thrown at him as he had been packing. It was nearly an hour past noon. But Aedion was right, they needed to pick up their pace, and, as Rowan glanced around, he found no place to stop. Rowan huffed. “We’ll stop in an hour.” Aedion nodded, and shouted the words back towards the group behind them. For a while the only sound was that of the clip-clop of horses’ hooves and the snapping of the silver-and-green banners in the wind, then a grumble interrupted it. Rowan snapped his eyes to Aedion in question, and the male blushed.

“I’m hungry,” he explained.

Rowan rolled his eyes but reached over to his saddle bag with one hand, unclipping it and tossing it towards Aedion. “Aelin probably stuck some gross confectionery in there.”

Aedion laughed as he rifled through it, shouting his victory when he yanked out a small wax paper bag. “Why,” Aedion began as he popped what looked like a piece of chocolate into his mouth, “does she shove this stuff in here if she knows you aren’t going to eat it?”

Rowan shrugged in answer and scanned the road before them. The towering pines on either side of the road created quite the image; each dusted with last night’s fallen snow, the needles whispering in the faint wind. There was a snicker behind him that turned into a full guffaw, and Rowan raised his brows at Aedion, then saw what he was looking at… 

“Oh gods,” he groaned, a blush heating his face. Aelin— wicked and cruel Aelin had slid a book into his bag as well. He remembered that particular book well. It was a copy of one of Aelin’s favorite collections of poems. If you could call them poems, and not just explicit short stories.

“Why the hell do you have this?” he said after another minute of laughter. Rowan only shook his head. “Blame your queen, General.”

Aedion chuckled, “She reads this smut?” Rowan fixed him with a look of disbelief. “You’ve no idea.”

You minx, he said to Aelin.

Hmm, did you find my book?
Yes, but, as a matter of fact, Aedion, found your book
, he growled.

There was a pause, then, Oh. I hope he enjoyed it.

 Sitting at the table in her chambers, breakfast spread before her, Aelin scanned the paper before her, trying desperately to quell her disappointment at what she was reading.

Your Majesty,

Sellene and I have been trying feverishly to calm the many who think the Whitethorn’s aren’t appropriate rulers, and I am sad to tell you that we may have to forfeit this rule. Or perhaps, you and my dear cousin could come to Doranelle to speak on our behalf, we need more influence than the few decrees you’ve sent. With Maeve dead, centuries of tradition are disintegrating, and we need your help. There has been no violence to speak of, but we fear that it may arise. I am aware of the things going on in Erilea, but this is a plea, if only so we can keep this from escalating.

Your friend,

Aelin sighed heavily. She couldn’t leave to go to Wendlyn, not for the next few months at least, and she couldn’t spare anyone to go either. The tension in the kingdom had been steadily rising since the War, and it seemed it was at its tipping point. She scrubbed her face with a hand, then a few hard knocks on the door interrupted her, and she glanced towards the young girl who was pouring her a cup of tea. “Get that, please.” 

The girl scurried off with a quick bow, and Aelin adjusted the sleeves of her tunic as she heard the two sets of footsteps returning. It had been three weeks since Rowan had left, and she figured she had gotten maybe two whole nights of rest collectively. Maybe it was the nightmares that chased her from sleep, or the cold that had seeped into her bones. Aelin tipped back her head and sighed.

“You look like shit.”

Aelin righted herself to glare at Fenrys, whose tan face was serious. “Nice to see you, too, Fen. I’ve been well, how about you?”

 Fenrys didn’t smile as he pulled out a chair at the end of the table, helping himself to a plate of potatoes and sausage.

 “I’m serious, Aelin,” he said. “Are you feeling well?” 

Aelin rolled her eyes and braced an arm on the table, digging her fork into a piece of toast. “Is there a reason you’re here so early, Fenrys?” She said rather snappishly. 

The male raised a groomed brow in her direction, but shook his head, and fished something of his pocket, “This came a little bit ago.” He tossed a sealed envelope across the table, and she caught it with a hand. Suddenly, the scent of pine and snow and Rowan filled her, and a smile brightened her face. “Rowan,” she breathed.

She looked away from the sealed letter and towards Fenrys, raising a brow. “Why not just have a servant deliver this?” Fenrys looked out the window, his hands fidgeting with his fork. “Fenrys,” she growled. He winced a bit and met her eyes again. “Lysandra wanted me to check on you, she said you hadn’t been sleeping, and that you wouldn’t talk to her about it—”

Aelin bristled and clenched her fork a bit tighter. “And she said it might be good to talk to someone else…” Fenrys shifted in his seat, poking at the food on his plate. Aelin knew they were only trying to help, but they couldn’t.

 It was as simple as that. 

They had no way of knowing what it had been like inside that coffin, or inside that damned pit Maeve had kept her in. And she didn’t think she could ever tell them. Fenrys knew most of what had happened simply because he’d been there, and Rowan… She’d told him only what she could. 

There were some things that could only escape the binds she kept them in during her nightmares. And the things that had happened when she’d faced Erawan on the battle field… “I can’t talk about it Fen. I-,” she paused, considering what she was about to say. “I won’t talk about it.”

Fenrys nodded sadly and stood. “I have days like that too, but you can’t let it sit inside and grow into even worse monstrosities. We can’t let what happened to us defeat us after we’ve already survived it. You survived, Majesty, don’t forget that. And don’t forget that surviving isn’t the same thing as living.” With that, he left.

Aelin braced her elbows on the table, looking at her half-eaten breakfast in disgust. She’d told Rowan once that he made her want to live­— not just survive. And he did. Every day, but it seemed that ever since she’d been freed from that hellhole, she’d been going through the motions. 

She was Aelin Galathynius and she had survived Maeve, she had survived a fate that the very gods had predestined her for. But she was tired of just surviving. Perhaps she had forgotten those words she’d told her mate all those months ago.

Fenrys was lost in thought as he wandered down the hall towards his rooms, but as the ever-changing scent of Lysandra met his nose, he was drug out of his reverie. 

“Did you talk to her?” Lysandra practically shouted as he neared her.

 “I did my best, but,” he sighed. “This is something she has to be willing to do.” 

Lysandra frowned, but nodded. “Before Rowan left, he told me to keep an eye on her.” She dropped her voice, and glanced around the empty hall. “He said her nightmares had gotten worse, and that she wasn’t even telling him what was going on.” 

Lysandra scrubbed her face with a small hand. “I’m worried.” She said finally, and Fenrys nodded his agreement. “There’s quite a lot going on, maybe after everything’s settled in Eyllwe and in Doranelle, the stress will ease,” he said after a moment. “Maybe,” Lysandra whispered.

Aelin had forced herself to finish her meal before asking for the table to be cleared. Now, lying atop the covers in her bed, she smiled as she carefully unfolded the parchment, Rowan’s scent still clinging to the paper.

My dearest, Aelin,

I miss you. It is hard being so far away from you, Fireheart. By the time you get this letter, I’ll be on the ship, but for now, I’m lying in my dreadfully uncomfortable bed in the nicest inn Ilium could offer, wishing you were here. Unfortunately, I think the further we get from each other, the harder it is to get clear messages, so while I’m on the ship, you may have some silence. But I promise when I get to Eyllwe I’ll write more. And, I am unashamed to tell you that I have read a few of your little poems. They’ve giving me a few ideas, actually, especially the one atop page 55.

Aelin made a mental note to look that one up.

But, asides from your sinful literature, I’d like you to know how amazing Ilium is. This city is flourishing, and as are all the others we passed through on the way here. Aelin, when I get back, I think we should go around and visit the towns and villages again. Not just for their sake, but for ours as well. I think it would do us both good to see what we’ve done. The people are healing, from the War, and from the past. It’s inspiring. This morning, after we arrived, I went down to the temple to pray, and to look around. It has become a place of reverence again. You’d be honored, my love.

He went on to discuss the many happenings of their week and a half of travels, and of course, the topics he had decided to discuss in Eyllwe, but towards the end…. Aelin reread the last few paragraphs a few times.

Aelin, perhaps this a cowardly way of doing things, but I wanted to do this in a letter, if only because you cannot out right refuse the written word. I know there are things you aren’t talking about, with me, with Lys, with anyone. And I know you need time, I am prepared to give you the rest of your life if need be, but Fireheart, you can’t internalize these things. You can’t keep it in. It’ll destroy you. I know from personal experience.

You told me once that you can’t talk about the things that have happened to you. You told me that there was a rage. But that rage does not turn me away. I am not going to turn away. You’re my mate. My carranam. My queen and wife. And I love you more than anything in this damned world and in the next. And if you can’t ever talk about what happened. Then please just tell me what your feeling, Aelin. Please. You are not alone in this recovery process. You are never alone. No matter if I am thousands of miles away, my heart is with you, Fireheart. Always.

Yours Always,


She didn’t realize she was crying until a tear slipped down her face and onto the paper, smearing Rowan’s messy scrawl. Aelin set the paper aside shakily and rolled onto her back. They were right. Painfully right. She had covered everything up. Had buried it beneath false smiles and sarcastic remarks. 

Her mental health hadn’t been something she had even considered for the past six months. She had been so focused on her kingdom, and the wedding, and treaties and decrees and all the other bullshit that she had shoved away all the pain and sorrow and utter devastation at what had been done to her.

But they were wrong about one thing.  There was no talking about it. Aelin didn’t know what would happen if she did. It was something so revolting and destructive. That damn pit of memories. Aelin covered her face with a trembling hand, pressing her palm into her eyes until she saw nothing but black.

Fenrys was about two seconds away from slamming the petulant little guard’s face into the wall. “Let me repeat myself, I am one of the queen’s blood-sworn. Let me enter,” he growled to the now-shaking male. “B-but I am n-not supposed to let anyone i-in,” he stammered, glancing between Fenrys and Connall nervously. 

“We pose the queen no harm; we just have matters to discuss.” Con’s even voice seemed to soothe the man, and he stepped aside. Fenrys refrained from glaring at the man. “If she lights your asses on fire, don’t you blame me.” He grumbled.

Fenrys eased open the door, scanning the entryway as he stepped in. “Aelin,” he called softly. When there was no response, he and Connall walked in further, down the few steps that led to the main bedroom. 

Aelin lie on the bed, seemingly asleep. Her small weight barely made a dent in the large bed, and Fenrys exchanged a glance with his brother. Together, they approached the bed on near silent feet.

 Faintly, Fenrys could hear her breath, but she should have heard them enter, at least she should have heard them arguing in the hall. “Your Majesty?” Connall whispered, concerning edging his voice. Fenrys frowned when she did not respond, and reinforced his shield as her reached out a tentative hand to brush her arm. Aelin jerked up, a ball of flame flaring to life in her palm.

“What the hell!” She shouted, the flame extinguishing much to Fenrys delight. There were dried paths of tears on her cheeks, but as he caught sight of the opened letter to her right, he decided not to ask about them.
“We came to—”

“Check on me,” Aelin snarled. Connall gave Fenrys a pleading look, but he only shook his head. Their queen was right. 

Aelin angrily patted down her hair and snatched up her letter from the bed.

 “I’m not some toddler you must keep tabs on,” she said as she refolded her letter, and then leaned forward to slide it into the drawer of the nightstand. 

Smoothly, she hopped of the bed and began walking towards her closet. 

“Get out,” she said flatly. Fenrys felt the words as if they were a slap to the face, and from the hurt look in Con’s face, he felt the same. 

“Aelin, please, if this is about Rowan—,” Connell was interrupted by a viscous, cold laugh, one that made ice shoot into every vein in Fenrys body. 

“You think that this is about Rowan?” Aelin’s voice filled the room as she whipped her body around to face them. “Do you think that I’m some love-sick child?” The female spat, her hands trembling with rage.

 Fenrys held up his hands in a sign of peace. This wasn’t just the anger of a separated mate. No, this was something much deeper. Something much more sinister.

Aelin turned back to her closet “I’ll say it again. Get out! And leave me the hell alone!” With that she stomped into her closet and slammed the heavy door shut.

Aelin didn’t leave the closet until she heard them leave. So, she had sat there like a pouting child for a few minutes, and as she sat on her bed now, she realized how ridiculous she was being. They just wanted to reach her. They wanted to help. But… Aelin didn’t want their help. Out of everything, she’d always survived and figured everything out. She would this time to.


What I ate Wednesday! - ‘I’m going to fuck up tonight’ edition.

Breakfast: Oatmeal with dark chocolate, chia seeds and cherries.

Lunch: Sweet potato pakora (Aldi find, taste sensation), cous cous and salad.

Dinner: Spinach and feta tart and FOUR types of salad*.

Snacks: 3 cups of coffee (not pictured), a graze snack and raspberries.

Exercise: 5 mile run and nearly 3 hours of walking!!!

Last night we went to an event called Fuck Up. Business peeps speak about the fuck ups they’d made during their career instead of the usual ‘look how successful I am and all the great things I’ve done’ type conferences. There was a restaurant owner who was on Gordon Ramsey’s kitchen nightmares. I actually worked in an office opposite it for 6 years and still haven’t gone! A game developer who blew 2 million on a game that was never released (this is what sparked our interest in going as me and the boy are both game developers). And there was a guy who really fucked up an ad campaign for climate change. It was really good and I liked hearing their stories. I’m kicking myself as there was a Q&A after and I really wanted to ask whether they thought they were now successful and chickened out. There was lots of questions about how the fuck ups have helped or affected them but do they consider themselves successful now? People measure their success differently, the developer for example blew that two million but has since worked on very high profile games and the team he led back then are doing great things (one guy works for pixar!). Does he consider himself successful now? I’m not sure if it would have been a great question but I wish I had asked it. I think we’ll definitely be going to the next Fuck Up!

*At the event there was food. Your only option was the tart with green salad, the tart with all the salads or just salads, so I went with tart and all the salads despite not really knowing what I was getting! It was difficult to get a picture of all of them so I tried to move it around a bit. There was a green salad, leeks and barley, potato salad and some kinda salad with nectarines in it. The nectarines were a particular highlight!

Crappy morning started with binging on pizza and cereal.

But I’m at work now with a giant bottle of green smoothie for lunch, my large water bottle, some herbal tea, and some almonds for snacking. Telling myself that 1 bad meal does not give me an excuse to continue to hurt my body for the rest of the day.

Protein pancakes like-aha-like-I like it!

3 egg whites, 3 tbsp flaxmeal, 2 scoops gaspari myofusion banana, 1 cup strawberries.
65 grams protein packed in a dessert! Not bad.

(I’ve made an egg coffee with the yolks. Seriously, try it! it’s magnificent)


Dream on

For day 2 (Dream) of Kyoko x Ren week started by @fyeahkyokoren

It’s a little, uh, well it’s very interpereted. You know the song “Dream on”? Voila. I think Kyoko’s past will really affect her (hopefully) future relationship with Ren. Vice Versa. I also think that that will be our chance to see some established KyoRen in our future but whatever, I’m being over dramatic. take it how you like it. Pictures are from my trip to Hawaii, if you read my tags I warned you that this would happen ;)

a grin remains spread over her features as she stares down at the other’s phone screen.     ❛ thank you for capturing this on video. i could always use a good laugh. ❜     she watches the video loop one more time, before giving the device back and looking up again, her smile never fading. hera sits on a stool behind the small island in her kitchen, chopsticks and a small carton of lo mein in her hands as she eats her late lunch contently. she pushes a large paper bag  across the surface.     ❛ — how was your day? are you hungry? i just bought chinese. ❜     /     @crdered.

Breakfast burrito with hash browns from Pepper Market located in Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort.

I’m watching S2 Babylon 5 and Delenn is telling Sheridan that in ~traditional Minbari meals~ the guest is supposed to set a single piece of flarn aside for Valen in the place that is set aside for his return, and this is like the most incredible in-joke that NONE OF THEM KNOW ABOUT YET


I would like to make a few points in this following post. I have been receiving NUMEROUS questions and anonymous asks regarding rest days, eating, and feeling guilty from one or both of those subjects.

I will no longer be answering questions about those two topics after making this post because everything in this post is what I would say:


  • Are essential for muscle repair and growth. Rest days are not only important for PHYSICAL rest but to be honest, I feel they are even more important for MENTAL rest and recovery. Why? If you are constantly going 24/7 in the gym, running, following a training plan, or anything else, it can result in feeling burnt out, lethargic, unmotivated, and over-trained. I am a college runner, and even I sometimes will go “against” my coach’s wishes about running on Sundays because I know personally I NEED a rest day, again, more to MENTALLY recover than physically sometimes.
  • On rest days, EAT!!!!!! Please get ANY ideas out of your mind that “less exercise means I should be eating less calories.” That is wrong. Very, very wrong. On rest days, your body and muscles, like I previously mentioned, are RECOVERING, rebuilding, and resting. This means that without proper fuel, they cannot get the proper nutrients and energy necessary to rebuild.
  • Your body does not miraculously gain 10 pounds on rest days. In fact, your body will not miraculously gain 10 pounds from not exercising at all unless you decide to start eating thousands and thousands of excess calories that will be stored and result in weight gain over a period of time. I promise you, your body is SMART, it knows what to do with proper fuel and nourishment.
  • Do. Not. Feel. Guilty.


  • Calories and food are ESSENTIAL to live. Literally– without food, we cannot survive. Our bodies NEED food and calories and energy just to FUNCTION. Now add in ANY activity you’re doing, whether it’s walking to the bathroom or running a marathon, you still need fuel.
  • Do NOT overthink or complicate the perception of food. Science, guys. Calories are units of energy, converted by our bodies for us to perform daily, from the most simple of tasks to the more complex ones.
  • Like I’ve previously stated regarding “rest days,” food is STILL and ALWAYS required whether or not you are having a “strenuous activity” day or not. Whether you’re sitting on your ass at a desk for hours on end or walking around exploring a city, you need food.
  • DO NOT equate exercise with “earning” food.
  • Eat. Just eat. Food is fuel. Simple. Keep it simple.