#detox liquid

[holygraailpro]

Currently at the Hill. In new York. After pulling my Fucking Liquid Swords from my Arms with the possession of Hell's Coroner. Nicci and the crew Always with Me, always follow me, no matter the Skin they Choose. No longer stuck on Canto V nor 56 Nights. No longer Blind. Can't tell if I removed the Chain or not though...

[rachanasharma1028]

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[nouearth]

a sticky situation.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.

wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!

a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.

god, did i luck out with peter… 

you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.

on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.

peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it. 

you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more. 

from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.

opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.

difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.

he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.

taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.

seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…

normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.

note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.

you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end. 

“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“

“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.

“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”

“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“

judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”

on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was. 

“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.

“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.

you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.

 “oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“ 

“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“

that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy. 

before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.

when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen. 

but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you. 

he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.

tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!

peter does.

as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change. 

quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.

enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.

if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face. 

you. that was all he wanted. 

peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.

he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.

you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.

oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look. 

even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.

maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then.  not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.  

in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…

aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!

peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.

“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.

“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.

“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now. 

your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.

it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.

maybe peter was like the others after all.

you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,” 

the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“

he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.

it was all a blur. 

his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.

“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise. 

“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.

you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.

“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.

then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“

“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”

infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.

before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you. 

“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”

the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”

“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it. 

you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment. 

he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress. 

take your time. i’m not going anywhere.

“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch. 

felt it.

“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.

“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”

 “i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.

“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”

“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…

“i just wanted to fuck you.”

pervert.

the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”

he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”

“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.

for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.

peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster. 

you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?

he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.

both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it. 

peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”

everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.

he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor. 

“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”

and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“

“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”

peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.  

“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.

“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed. 

he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more. 

“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”

“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“

without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off. 

after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean. 

nothing was wasted. 

the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.

to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[petite-anni]

How can I loose weight?

I got you.

💗weightloss, diets and healthy habits💗

1. healthy habits

before we start, you want longterm process. So form habits. Become disciplined.

No crash-diet means no jojo-effect. No crash-diet means actual progress that doesnt go to waste.

2. diet

No matter how much you move, if your diet is not sitting right, you wont slim down. Over time you have to include healthy and nutritious options into your diet.

~small bowl of veggies, before breakfast

(such as cucumber, bell pepper, carotts, tomatos. That way your bloodsugar levels wont come crushing down midday)

~breakfast should include something that keeps you full. Dont skip it. People who eat breakfast tend to loose more weight and be slimmer.

(Porride, Eggs, Avocado, etc)

I usually include: Oatmeal, Chia sees, Berries and one Banana

~try not to snack, keep going for three meals a day

~eat whole foods, eat clean and make sure to dont neglect your protein-intake

(protein keeps us full and satisfied. Also, you want to loose fat, not muscle)

~cut out sodas and liquid calories!!!

such a waste. go for the light options with 0-2kcal. They taste the same, if not better.

Also, drink enough water.

3. workout

Normally, I work out every day in some way.

Cardio, strenght, pilates or just a walk outside.

Moving your body, keeping it toned and flexible, helps your mood, your health and your overall life.

On top, it burns calories.

Build some muscle and loose some fat. Thats how you get your dream body.

Here are my favorite channels, that I workout to daily:

MIZI (cardio mainly, full body workouts and burning calories)

Lidia Mera (pilates full body, toning and strenghtenig, legs, arms, abs)

Shirlyn Kim (specific parts, weightloss, strenghtening/toning,thigh gap)

Yuuka Sagawa (posture, arms and upper body)

Nina Dapper (arms, legs and abs)

4. Beauty Secrets

~ginger/curcuma shots

I tend to have ginger shots to boost my immune system and overall health. They are also very good for your skin and can give you a natural glow.

~probiotics

Your gut health is a game changer. You get less break outs and you can loose weight faster.

You can heal your gut through your diet and order some probiotics.

~castor oil

I live and breathe castor oil.

Usually I apply it before bed on my lashes, hair and skin. It helps with hair growth, skin protection and hydration. Its also very good for debloating and detox, if you put it into your belly button.

~green tea

This magic tea can help you loose weight, reduce the risk of several diseases, such as diabetes or heart disease,

It reduces anxiety and lowers your cholesterol level.

[zvdvdlvr]

Cherry Flavored

🍒 - Synopsis. Cherry farm + hopelessly in love + kissing.

🍒 - Warnings. Fast paced. Fighting. Concussion. Kissing.

It was late April, sun making the days hotter and longer. The gang had settled near Valentine, a small and tightly-knit town. In true womanly outlaw fashion, you politely introduced yourself and made yourself look as innocent and harmless as possible (the thing with appearing innocent and normal? you had three distinctive claw marks running down your face from when John got the both of you stranded on a mountain.)

Almost a week after settling down, Arthur Morgan had gotten into a bad bar fight. Luckily you, Lenny, Javier, Charles, and Bill were there to help fend off the irregularly large man from beating the life out of Arthur.

Though you definitely blew your cover of an innocent woman, Arthur won the fight.

In the aftermath of that fight, Arthur had let you pull him onto your horse and ride off into the night: putting as much distance from the incident as possible.

“Yeh alright?” Arthur asked, gravely voice low and close to your ear.

“‘M alright. I should be asking you that question, Arthur,” you replied.

“You know I can survive more’n that,” he grumbled. Arthur rested his bloodied forhead on your shoulder. “Didn’t mean to make a mess of things… I know you was gettin’ along fine with some of those people.”

You shrugged the shoulder Arthur wasn’t leaning on. Protected by your ribcage, your heart rate beat faster. “You’re more important- the gang is more important.”

Arthur’s eyes closed at your words. He wished more than anything he could feel normal afyer you said that. You’re more important. If only you knew how important you were to Arthur. He stayed quiet, the arms wrapped around your waist to stay steady tightened.

“Don’t fall asleep, Arthur,” you murmured. “You probably have one of those concussions- a bad one, if I had to guess.”

“Yes ma’am,” Arthur groaned, bringing his head up and focusing on the moon. Yeah, the world may be spinning, but at least you were there to take care of him.

Slowly, you eased your horse to a stop. You let Arthur dismount before following suit. As you patred the neck of your horse, you watched Arthur wobble on his legs beside you.

The man surveyed the area, a small farmhouse and crop growing about twent feet away from where you stood.

“Do you like cherries?” You asked. You linked your arm in Arthur’s and lead him closer to the crop. “The family here grows some damn good ones. They’re good for detox, but might make ya tired,” you said.

Arthur watched you reach out for a cherry and pluck it off the plant. You offered him one, and reached for your own. Arthur hadn’t had cherries in so long, he himself didn’t even know if he liked them. He watched you place the cherry into your mouth, moonlight lighting your face and making your eyes and lips shine. You sighed in delight, leaning slightly into Arthur, momentarily forgetting the fight.

Arthur placed his own cherry on his tongue and watched you pull out the pit by the stem and toss it away. A bright snile painted your lips when you turned and saw Arthur looking down at you, dark eyes watching your every movement.

“Good, right?” You urged, nodding to the stem between Arthur’s lips.

Arthur nodded. “Real good,” he answered. He reached behind you and picked another cherry. “Open.”

You opened your mouth and watched, dazed, as Arthur took great care in tucking the red flesh between your teeth.

You took a bite, feeling juice run down your chin. The red liquid gleamed under the light of the moon, taunting Arthur to remove it.

So he did.

Arthur reached out slowly, giving you the chance to step back. He swiped his thumb under your bottom lip, collecting the cherry juice and then bringing it up to his own lips and sucking it off his thumb.

“Well,” you breathed, eyes darting between Arthur’s lips and his mouth. “Can’t do that to a woman and not…” you started, trailing off.

“And not what?” Arthur prompted, stepping closer. He tilted his head, hand hovering over your cheek.

“Kiss me,” you finished breathlessly, leaning further into Arthur’s touch.

Arthur leaned down and captured your lips in his. He tasted the whiskey and cheery on your lips- a taste he could get addicted to. He groaned into your lips, opening his mouth and inviting you in.

Arthur didn’t know how long he stood there, tasting you, but he assumed he had been there for a while when he saw a light flicker on in the distance.

You pulled away, a smile om your flushed lips. “We should probably go,” you murmured, picking a few more cherries and storing them in your pocket.

Arthur mounted your horse. “I think I do like cherries,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you and letting your presence soothe his aches.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

I was wondering if you could get prompts about writing

I have a Mermaid Danny idea Danny takes deage Ellie and Dan some somewhere safe in the infinite realms when Danny finds a large pit of liquid ectoplasm and decides to change his form along with the kids to fit living inside of it

Turned out those large pools connect to all the other Lazarus pits Danny had been intoxicating them so his kids have somewhere safe to live

He ends up popping out in his mermaid Phantom form to check why the ghost oceans pits are so toxic and that's when he meets young Damian who is still living in the League of assassins and Danny so takes one look at the stabby baby and to sort of kind of adopts him

Now put in Damien is now living with the bat family and is on a mission with Justice League Dark Constantine, Doctor Fate, Zatanna,,m and Batman and has something to do with the League of assassins and Damian can get them in

Dr Fate mentioned some beings that might be able to help with the Lazarus pits since they normally live in them when he knocks on one of the unoccupied ones by the League of assassins and goes High King Phantom

This is how Bruce finds out that Damian has a been adopted by the king of the dead and the High King of the dead is a teen parent

Apologies if you don't answer ask like this or write something about them I hope you just like what I wrote though

I'm not taking prompts right now because my dumb brain is generating ideas a mile a minute as it is! I do love the idea of mermaid Danny though! I think it would be interesting if even though the Lazarus pits are toxic Danny isn't necessarily detoxing them but more living in them like a clown fish in a anemone because his and the babies status as both living and dead in a way renders them immune to it.

Him coming up to lean against the edge of the pool after Damian sits down at the edge, the middle of a night after a nightmare. Danny hums to him, a soothing siren song, soft with the ripples and bubbles of the pit as the backing instrumental. When anyone else comes Danny dives back down without so much as a splash.

One night when Damian comes down Danny is holding baby Ellie, and lets Damian gently hold the little girl who coos and giggles and blows green bubbles that burn Damian's skin ever so slightly but Damian doesn't notice because he's so enchanted.

[cort4se]

nothing at all right?

part 1, part 3 synopsis: one thing leads to another when Vi starts to see her friend in a new light. naive and curious, reader decides to find out what this new entanglement can bring about.

You stopped chewing your apple. Leaning in, you narrowed your eyes, “What are you doing?”

Vi looked like a deer caught in headlights. Liquid courage nowhere near close enough to shield her from the way you were staring at her. Her voice caught in her throat as nervous glossy eyes tried to attach themselves to anything other than your intimidating gaze.

She leaned back into her chair, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck, before clearing her throat with a breathy chuckle, “Ah, I’m— nothing.” 

She looked up at you for a brief moment, before focusing on something else again, softly mumbling, “Just think you’d be a good partner is all.”​ 

Surprise evident in your voice, you pressed further, “Really?” 

Was what came out of your mouth, but what the fuck? If it weren’t for the way your legs wrapped around each other, you might’ve fallen out of your chair. 

You swallowed the rest of your apple, still studying her expression when she called out to you, ignoring your question altogether.

“Hey it's late, is it cool if I crash here tonight?”

You raised a single brow, amusement spreading across your features.

You’ve seen Vi drunk plenty of times and she’s never backed down from flirting with anyone. A small smile found its way onto your lips as you wondered why she did this time. You nodded your head as you got up to show her to a spare room.

You would’ve thought everything was fine if it wasn’t for the inkling feeling you had that something was wrong. You’ve called and texted, but it's like she’s gone on a dopamine detox the way she’s disappeared off of everything. 

You looked down at your phone, hoping to see a response that would save you from the situation you were now in.

3 days ago

4 messages

Delivered

You gripped the phone in your palm as you pulled yourself together, mustering enough courage to push open the doors to the arena.

These things really weren’t your thing, the thick scent of blood, the noise, the warmth, all of it was enough to spin you out of your mind and flat onto the ground. The sight of flying metal jaws didn't help either. And these places were always humid, your skin began melting into your clothes just at the thought of it.

Pushing past a few bodies, you found a spot in the stands, a place where you could easily spot the contending fighters entering into the pit. 

A few matches went by when the realization suddenly hit, that you actually had no idea what Vi’s fighting schedule was like. How often she fought, when she fought, you simply came here on a whim.

You figured that you were probably wasting your time coming here. 

On your way to leave was when the crowd suddenly came alive. Crowd eagerness increased by tenfold as spectators roared with excitement, throwing various trinkets into the pit while many raised red betting papers.

You spun your attention back into the pit, eyes darting all over searching for the cause of this resurgence of excitement. And then you saw her. Sweat twinkled on her skin the way plankton glow under the sea. Red stained her already bloodied bandages, while parts of her wild hair stubbornly stuck onto her damp forehead. 

You've never seen her fight but even under bright lights her presence had complete hold over your attention. You watched the fight. To say you were surprised was an understatement. She was quick, yet insanely strong. She was an entirely different person in the pit, her usual soft and playful nature replaced with sheer strength and concentration.

She was doing really well— Although you didn’t particularly know what well meant when it came to fighting, she wasn't taking that many hits and the crowd adored her. 

She weaved punches incomprehensibly fast, retaliating with relentlessly strong ones. She completely overpowered her opponent despite them being twice her size. 

That is until she caught you in the stands. Her eyes briefly met yours, and then surprise washed through them.

She quickly shifted her focus back onto her opponent and that would have convinced you she hadn’t noticed you at all.

Would have. 

Her foot landed awkwardly, allowing her opponent to land a blow that had her landing hard on the cold ground beneath her. The crowd groaned with a collective Ahhhh at the impact.

She was quick to get back up, it was hard to see her through the bodies of people who crowded your vision. But from the sounds of victorious cheers you could tell she happened to recover and ended up winning the match.

You hurriedly left after the fight, pushing yourself through the dense crowd to see if you could catch her in the bar. You whipped your head around from side to side, frantically looking for her signature leather jacket.

Unfortunately, all you got were a few confused looks from patrons when you tapped them on their shoulder. Mumbling a quick “Sorry,” as you darted through the packed bar.

You could handle Vi not texting back, maybe she had been busy, but she never went more than a day without responding to your messages. Even when she spent the night drinking her heart out, the following morning she’d still manage to send you a drunken voice note letting you know she got home okay. 

You let out a strained exhale as you decided to call it a night. Vi was an adult, and if something was wrong she could tell you.

Right?..

Is what you tried to tell yourself but there you were again a second night in a row, sitting in an overcrowded, deafeningly loud and uncomfortably hot arena looking for your friend you were convinced was now definitely avoiding you.

You waited a couple matches to see if she'd show up, and luckily she did. Like the previous night she successfully landed a combination of attacks, weaving, dodging, landing hard jabs. Taking a few hits herself but the fight would be soon over with her hailed as the victor.

She fought with a certain vigour, a certain anger she's never bothered to talk about with you. Tonight she happened to have two fights lined up back to back. Her chest rose and fell with heavy exhales, using the back of her bandaged hand to wipe off the on her forehead, stretching out her neck from side to side as she waited for her next fight to begin.

Her next opponent was unlike her usual contenders. She was around her height, but with a smaller yet still muscular build. The fight was so fast you could barely tell who was doing what.

Her opponent was quick and agile, with longer limbs. Almost like a snake in her movements. After a series of prolonged attacks, with a feint, Vi caught her opponent off guard, hitting them particularly hard in their liver.

Her opponent staggered for a while trying their best to recover, but you could tell from the panic in their eyes, the air had been forced out of her lungs and she couldn't seem to get enough in fast enough. Her knees crashed into the ground as she desperately held onto her side. 

Vi threw her fists into the air with a victorious cheer. Along with the praise of everyone in the crowd who had bet on her win tonight. 

You were sure you'd find her today. There’s no way after a match like that she’d pass up a drink.

You found yourself a comfortable seat at the counter, looking over your shoulder every now and then in search of black hair with pinkish red streaks. You called over the bartender, describing the shifty pitfighter that had been avoiding you like you had the plague, asking if they’ve seen them around recently.

To your dismay, they shook their head no. If it wasn’t for this itchy feeling something was up, you would’ve brushed it off. Maybe she really held up to laying off on those drinks.

But that didn’t do anything to help the worry that clouded your thoughts, she didn't answer her phone, and you hadn't seen her in days. It didnt help that shes been skipping her meals. She can take care of herself, but you couldn’t help but worry if she’s been eating enough.. 

A frustrated groan escaped past your lips as you ran a hand through your hair. 

You ordered a drink to ease your nerves and from the corner of your eye you caught a glint of light against a pointy piece of metal. You turned towards it, but as quickly as you saw it, it was gone. 

She’s seen you, you know she has. And she’s gone out of her way to pretend she hasn't. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren't even remotely nervous about what you were about to do. 

You and Vi have always been close but ever since she’s started drinking more, you’ve paid close attention to avoid going to her apartment unannounced. You knew she was struggling and you wanted to give her as much space as she needed until she felt ready enough to invite you in. 

You took a deep breath as you stood in front of her apartment door, exhales coming out in airy puffs of steam as they bounced off and up against the hard door that stood in front of you. Taking a hand out of your pocket, you rolled the thought over in your mind once more before giving the door a few knocks.

You don't wait too long before you hear shuffling on the other side of the door. The door swung open to reveal a confused yet mildly bruised Vi from last night’s fight. 

You sucked in a quick breath, bracing yourself before looking up to meet her steel coloured eyes. Ignoring the confusion on her face, you pushed the thought out of your mind, “Why've you been avoiding me?”

Taken aback by your accusation, her hands came up to wave away any misunderstandings, “Woah, I'm not avoiding you.”

“I saw you last night,” Or at least I think I did.. “I know you saw me too, What’s going on?” The furrow in your brows deepened with concern, “Vi if i did something to—”

“No, no,” she quickly interrupted, “You haven't done anything, I promise.. I’ve just,” she ran a hand through her hair as a frustrated sigh slipped past her lips. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh okay,” you replied flatly. You turned on your heel ready to head in the opposite direction, offended at her weak attempt at an excuse.

She chased after you before you could, her cool fingers coiling around your wrist, bringing your attention back onto her and why you came in the first place. Her muscles flexed against the cold air that bit at her bare skin. 

“No wait! Why don't you come inside, it’s cold.” Her eyes narrowed into a pleading expression silently asking, please.

Your tongue prodded at the inside of your cheek as you nodded in agreement, following her into the apartment.

You sat down on her couch, looking around at a few t-shirts and games sprawled on the floor. Surprisingly it’s been kept pretty neat.

She sat down next to you, her weight dipping into the couch.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” just that she can't seem to calm herself whenever she's reminded of how you cornered her that night, how your eyes were focused entirely on her. Just that she can't seem to quiet the noise in her mind when she wonders what would've happened if she didn't pull away. That not only do you occupy her thoughts at night but she's started seeing you during the day as well.

She let out a frustrated exhale as she decided her words carefully, “I’ve just been so out of it lately.”

“Oh,” you nibble at your lower lip, unsure of what to say to comfort her. You dont doubt she's telling the truth but you can't help but feel like she’s hiding something from you. You don't mean to over-step but the words fall out of your mouth before you could stop them, “I’ve been worried about you, Vi. I actually went to see you fight a few times.”

Her brows raised, “Actually?”

“Yea, I didn’t know how else to reach you since,” you motioned towards her phone sprawled on the counter, “And im sure ive caught your eye a few times.”

Her heart twists. Vi hates that she's been ignoring you, but she hates even more that she made you worry this much and she had no idea, “I-I,” she tumbled over her words, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you do that”

‘Hey,” you pushed her shoulder playfully, “I chose to go there on my own free will, as long as you’re okay I can't really be mad at you for doing whatever you need to, to feel better.”

Vi gives you a small smile as she brushes her palm to your arm. You placed your palm atop hers, holding her warmth to your skin for a moment. 

“I hope you can get some sleep in tonight, take care Vi,” the weight of the couch lifted as you got up to leave, but she reached out for you again.

“W-Wait”

You turned back to look at her with a puzzled look on your face.

She cleared her throat, “Well since you came all the way here why not keep me company?” She motioned towards the plastic you've long forgotten about. “And isn’t that for me? Why don’t we share it together?” She's grinning at you, and her eyes have you sucked in like you've been caught in a whirlpool.

Honestly, you didn’t plan on staying over, but how could you say no to her? 

sorry this took forver to put out,, ive been so busy TT

i hope you enjoyed! cross posted on ao3 w the same user <3

[angelaness]

april’s vibe: hyperfixation as a lifestyle choice

okay, so. i’ve decided april is the month i weaponize my obsessive tendencies. we’re structuring this like a villain origin story meets a Pinterest vision board. no chill, just results. here’s the plan:

DAILY NON-NEGOTIABLES (because autopilot is for airplanes)

-

Mornings: Alarm goes off at 6:30 AM. no snooze, no TikTok rabbit holes. i splash cold water on my face like i’m in a montage. breakfast is ✨liquid✨—black tea, hibiscus, whatever. fasting till 3 PM because hunger is just capitalism’s way of distracting me.

-Workouts: Leg day? Arm day? Every day Squats, lunges, push-ups, planks—yes, even the thigh gap sculpt stuff. ugh. cardio is me speedwalking away from my own intrusive thoughts.

-Afternoons: Hyperfocus mode. coding lessons, Neocities updates (my 2003-core html shrine), job applications (two a day, minimum), and drawing my OCs like they’re my emotional support imaginary friends.

-Evenings: Pretend i’m a mysterious artist. video diaries no one will ever see. practicing model poses in the mirror like i’m about to walk NYFW. reading UX/UI textbooks in Italian? Sure. Phone off by 9 PM to avoid doomscrolling into the abyss.

WEEKLY MISSIONS(to avoid becoming a goblin)

-

Week 1: Reset. Clean my room, delete 1,000 screenshots, make a moodboard that’s 70% anime OCs and 30% “hire me” energy.

- Week 2: Delulu escalation. Apply to jobs while listening to “I Am the Best” by 2NE1. Code a webpage that’s just a PNG of a frog. Detox Sunday: no internet, just me and my sketchbook.

- Week 3: Break the comfort zone. Post a cringe video diary. Walk like i’m in Black Swan but make it fashion.

- Week 4: Final boss mode. Five job apps in a day. Code a feature that’s definitely overkill. Compare progress pics and pretend i don’t scream internally.

WHY? Because by May, i want to look in the mirror and see someone who’s 10% hotter, 50% more employable, and 100% more feral about their dreams. The kind of glow-up that makes people side-eye me in the grocery store. Skinny toned legend who. Me. Exactly.

[beezusvreeland]

dear reader - chapter 5

summary: Miguel took the reader’s love and friendship for granted. Something he learns reading her column, when it’s too late…Or is it?

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader // matt murdock x reader

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 5

“Look! If it isn’t the newest british member of our group!”, Hobie pointed as you approached your regular table at The Bar. 

You were hesitant to come in the first place. The thought of Miguel showing up at any moment made you anxious, not knowing what to expect — or, more realistically, trying not to expect a damn thing. 

“Hey, mate!”, you put your best scottish accent on as you gave your friend a tight hug. You missed your friends, dearly. Since you used your time abroad to do a digital detox, you had only talked to them here and there, with the exception of Gwen. 

She hugged you as soon as Hobie let go of you. “I missed you so much!”, Gwen said, squeezing you and then taking a step back to look at you. “Looking good, huh? Edinburgh treated you right.”

You smiled at her and Hobie poked your arm, with a smirk on his face. 

“Let’s see if you really learned something at that place. Tell me, love, what is the best thing to come out of Glasgow?”, he raised his eyebrow, certain that you wouldn’t know how to answer it. He was so wrong.

Stepping closer to him, you grabbed the unopened bottle of beer Hobie was holding and, with a smug expression, said: “The train to Edinburgh”. 

“Whoa!!!”, Hobie stood up and gave you another hug, jumping to celebrate you. Both you and Gwen laughed at his excitement. “That’s my girl!”

“You cut your hair.”

“Pav! We were waiting for you”, Gwen said. 

“I did, buddy, what do you think?”, you put your hands through your hair. 

Still looking stunned, he walked slowly towards you, analyzing your cut. “I should be furious you let someone else cut your hair…But you look fantastic!”, he faked out, finishing with a huge smile that showed his perfect white teeth. You hugged each other.

“It was an extraordinary circumstance, I would never do that to you if there wasn’t the need for it”, he nodded as you said it in his ear. 

“I’m so happy you’re back!”, Pav combed a lock of your hair with his fingers. “I have some products to recommend now that you have a new length.”

“I didn’t expect any less of you.”

“Oh, the gang is all here!”, Foggy stopped by the table as he greeted some of the customers. 

“Except for Miguel…have you guys heard from him?”, Pav asked and Gwen and Hobie shook their heads. You tried to ignore the concerned look your best friend gave you, focusing on your beer.

“And you are back!”, Foggy put his hand on your shoulder. “How was Scotland?”

“A dream”, you gave a sincere answer. As you raise your bottle, you realize it’s empty. Foggy did too.

“Come with me to the bar, I should give our favorite writer a drink of her choice…on the house”, he said, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed and got up, as your friends complained that they should get free drinks too.

“So, what’s gonna be?”, Foggy was already at the other side of the counter, which he cleaned using the rag on his shoulder. 

“Wait. Really? I thought you were just messing with them.”

“Two rabbits, one stone”, he chuckled. “What can I get you?”

“A dry martini would be nice”, you shrugged. 

“Very fancy.”

“Oh, you know, I just got back from Europe”, you put your hand on your forehead dramatically, making him laugh.

Even though The Bar had become a hotspot, with several employees making and serving drinks and food, Foggy never stopped doing groundwork. He had the business side of things to run too, but still helped his staff and made sure to be present for his clientele. You really liked that about him.

“So, word on the street is you are very fancy but also single. Is that right?”, his question surprised you.

“Well…yeah. Which street is that?”

“Pav.”

“Oh, right.”

“The thing is, I have a friend who I think you’d really like”, Foggy said, as he mixed liquids with his gear. 

That surprised you even more. It was nice of him to think of setting you up though. You survived the past few years with only a couple of dates with weird guys you met on Tinder and an intense pining for Miguel O’Hara. You wonder if other opportunities of meeting new people would have come up if you weren’t so focused on him. If you had been just like him — sleeping around with whoever you wanted, without any concern for attachments or people’s feelings whatsoever —, you probably would be at a different point in your life. Maybe even met someone great and lived together, a crib or two for the creatures who were made from both of you. 

“I’ve known him for my entire adult life and he has always been a great friend to me. To Karen too, they worked together for a while before she started working at the paper.”

You remembered a conversation you had with Karen once, where she told you her boss at the law firm had encouraged her to pursue her passion for journalism, that without that, she probably would have never found purpose in her career. 

“If he is so great…How is he still single?”, you take the beautiful glass of martini Foggy offers you. “This looks amazing, thank you!”

“You are welcome”, he nodded. “He has focused a lot of his time and energy into building his firm and helping people. Now he is at a point where he can finally work normal hours and have a personal life.”

“Okay…you can give him my number. I can’t promise anything, but I’m willing to talk to him based on your pitch.”

Foggy clasped his hands and took his phone out of his pocket. “That’s great! It’s going to be great!”

“Are you already texting him?”, you chuckled.

“Already did, now I’m telling Karen, she can’t wait to see Matt finally going on an actual date.”

***

Miguel was running late, but he had a good reason, he thought: he wanted to find the book you wrote about in your column, the one you gifted him on his birthday. He had moved furniture, taken things out of his closet and raided his home office but, so far, nothing. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else since he read about it. It was frustrating because Miguel remembered receiving the box, but you were right, he never opened it. And he had no fucking idea of where it was. 

At first, anger was what moved Miguel in his pursuit. He wanted to find the book and shove it on your face, it was just a stupid little thing, you were being way too dramatic about it. But the anger was soon replaced by sorrow. To think you put it all together, wrote everyone’s stories, including your own and even had it printed, was devastating. It was such a thoughtful thing to do. You had always been so thoughtful, with everyone, but it felt like especially with him. There were several instances of him casually mentioning something he had to buy or a shore he had to do and, months later, you would give him what he needed or showed up to help him. And all he gave you was a box of chocolates. 

He didn’t have it in him to say it out loud, but he was just so embarrassed. Miguel knew he was a good looking guy and, since he was a teenager, he became used to not having to make much effort. People liked beautiful people. People liked doing things for beautiful people. It was ridiculous, he now realized, but it had never dawned on him that he had to give in order to take. He had no idea how to do that. 

Frustrated with himself, he decided it was better to meet the group at the bar empty handed instead of not going at all. Miguel wanted to know if things were okay between the two of you. You never answered his email or the other texts he sent you trying to start conversations — Just watched the new Transformers, thoughts? Hey, what’s the name of that place with the dumplings? Gwen showed me a picture of you in front of a castle, is it the one where Queen Mary lived? You've always talked about it, I hope you had a great time . 

Miguel’s eyes searched for you as soon as he stepped inside the bar. He spotted Gwen’s blonde hair, then Hobie and Pav. His stomach started turning, something that rarely happened to him, at the thought of being too late or you not showing up at all. In his head, he had it all figured out: meeting in person, the two of you would reconnect through inside jokes, all would be good and the uneasiness inside his chest would go away. 

The plan went out the window when Miguel finally spotted you walking from the bar to the table with a martini in hand. You looked different. The same, but different. For starters, he was pretty sure you had done something to your hair. But it wasn’t just that. There was something about your walk, you stood straight and didn’t look down at any point. You almost looked taller that way. A guy nearby took his eyes out of the game on TV to check you out. Miguel didn't like that one bit.

“Hello, your grace, fancy of you meeting us here”, Hobie stood to shake Miguel’s hand, who gave him and Pav quick hugs. 

“Sorry, I lost track of time”, Miguel said.

“Shocker”, Gwen pointed, giving him a side hug.

And then there was you. Did he ever stare at you for longer than a few seconds? Because there was no way he never noticed how big your eyes were. Or how pink your cheeks got when he got closer. The effect he had on you…Miguel was way too aware of it now. He knew a lot of information about your feelings and secrets, even though the writing on your column was never meant for him to read. You were so sure he wouldn’t take interest in you or your work that you were pretty open about your life, even in anonymity. Would he even know how to act around you like he didn’t know so much about you? Miguel had to get out of his own head.

“Hi”, he said, not knowing what to do with himself. “You are back.”

“Yep, at the bar with you losers once again”, you shifted your gaze to the rest of the group. Miguel noticed it. He felt a little weird about it all, you didn’t even give him a hug or a kiss on the cheek, like you always did. 

“First you cut your hair with a stranger, now this”, Pav complained, clearly as a joke. “You offend us, my friend.”

So you cut your hair. That was it, it used to be long. Miguel had always liked it that way, even though he had no idea how or why he even had a preference in the first place. However, you looked great with your new do. He could see more of your face that way. 

“Sorry, Pav, I’m starting to feel all of the exhaustion and crankiness from the jetlag.”

“Apology accepted”, Pav winked at you. 

“I think this is my cue”,  you got your purse and stood up from the table. 

“No! Already?”, Gwen pouted. “I still wanna hear more about your scottish adventures.”

“Give me a couple of days to recover and organize my life back again and we’ll do it. Maybe brunch this weekend?”

“Ugh, Miguel hates brunch”, Pav groaned, looking at him. It was true that Miguel thought brunch was stupid: to him, people should either have breakfast or lunch and that was it. If the meal happened at any point in the morning, it was breakfast, after noon, it was lunch. It made a lot of sense to him.

“Lunch it is, then”, Hobie declared, looking bored. 

Miguel noticed that your eyebrows furrowed just a little bit. His friends actually enjoyed that stupid meal and you loved it. He had always been proud of being a contrarian, being so headstrong that the people around him had no other choice but to accommodate his needs. So much so, the group didn’t even start a discussion, it was easier to do whatever Miguel preferred.

The way Pav complained, your annoyed expression. You barely even looked at Miguel since he arrived and you were already leaving. Moved by the fear of making you even angrier at him, he said:

“I don’t mind brunch”.

The four friends all looked at Miguel at the same time. 

“Are you for real?”, Hobie was suspicious. 

“Yeah, I can eat breakfast things and not think about it”, Miguel shrugged. 

“Okay…”, Gwen was cautious, as if she was dealing with a wild animal. “Brunch on saturday then.”

“Sure, I really have to go now.”

Gwen and Pav gave you hugs and Hobie got up to escort you to the front of the bar, where he would have a smoke. 

“Bye, Miguel”, you finally looked at him. You were serious, but still polite. However, using his name after years of several nicknames was a low blow. It was intentional. His looks and charm wouldn’t be enough this time. He would have no other option but to deal with the consequences of his actions.

***

Dear reader, 

I am back and more inspired than ever. During the past few weeks, I have dedicated myself to make a dream of mine come true. And it did. Suddenly, it was real, not some fantasy I created in my head. That is really powerful, if you ask me.

Life has a funny way of bringing things together. I spent the past years wishing I could go on a nice date, preferably with the guy . That never happened, obviously. There had been a few encounters, mostly guys from dating apps that were looking for a one night stand. By the time I took a break, I had given up. I read way too many romance books growing up and it was all just fantasy, right? Well, things didn’t happen the way I imagined them, but maybe there is a little bit of hope left.

There are a lot of annoying “advices” people in relationships give single folks. There is the classic have you tried the dating apps ? Which is something only someone hasn’t had to use them to find love say. There is the you just need to put yourself out there . And, my personal least favorite, you will find love once you stop looking for it . These have something in common: they are meant to make the single person feel bad, like they are not doing enough. But I doubted these people weren’t looking for love or fully knew who they were when they met their partners.

All this to say that there are many elements that lead two people to meet and, if they are lucky, fall in love. Chance is one of them. Sometimes the circumstances are just right. Like a friend trying to set me up with a friend of his. He was sure we would get along, I allowed him to give his friend my number, fully thinking nothing would ever come of it. 

Then my phone started buzzing. It was him, the friend of my friend — let’s call him Charlie —, calling. Not texting, not DMing on Instagram, actually calling. He was nice, said he wanted to introduce himself and make sure that I wasn’t uncomfortable with our friend wanting us to meet. We talked for a little bit about how we met this friend we have in common and the neighborhoods we live in. Then he asked me out to dinner on saturday night and it was so smooth I said yes before even realizing what was happening. 

He called again a couple days later to confirm our date and ask if I liked italian food, because he knew a place. We haven't even met in person and he has already been more present than all my flings together.

I am trying my best to not put any expectations in it, it is nice to actually have this experience. You know, of being asked out and making plans together. Who knows what will happen, but it feels good to be excited for once. 

Until next week! And remember: never take advice from someone who’s falling apart.

Love, 

The Writer

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<< chapter 4

>> chapter 6

all chapters

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dear reader playlist

[slagsunited]

~~~~~~January D13t (Part 2 to New Years)~~~~~

~~~~~~~~☆21st -> 31st // 11 day d13t☆~~~~~~~~

late fresh starts, working hard

m34l plan - breakfast = detox tea e.g. green tea and 100g 0% greek yogurt with fruit of choice (≈100kcal)

lunch = small salad such as spinach, cucumber, and a squeeze of lemon (≈<100kcal)

dinner = vegetables with lean meat or high protein meat and a complex carb e.g. brown rice (≈350->550kcal)

(may be advised/aimed to OMAD with just one of these once the intake reaches <400)

21 1 <700

22 2 <650

23 3 <600

24 4 <550

25 5 <500 // liquid f4st // full f4st

26 6 <450

27 7 <400

28 8 <350

29 9 <300

30 10 <250

31 11 <200 // liquid f4st // full f4st

~~~~~~~~~~~~~G3N3RAL N0T3S~~~~~~~~~~~~~

d13t - clean, yogurt, sweet breakfasts, lots of fruit, fresh veg, avoiding oils and butter, using tracker apps to hit macro counts, prioritise wl alongside toning.

workouts - skating (either), at home workouts, walks or runs!

outifts - exercise wear such as flares and nice jackets, jumpers, cute and comfy. ♡

activities - coffee dates alone or with friends, market days (little villages do it best), shopping days (spending that Christmas money)

other - focusing all the energy you do have on working hard, whether thats new years resolutions of getting toned, revision for big school exams, or work!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~januarysp0 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~th1nsp0~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~m34lsp0~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(NOTE: for working when including books, I saw a post off of @justwater4meeeeeeeeee saying to put low c4l fruit like blueberries between pages and it works so well to stop binging and keep up focus!)

[creatingblackcharacters2]

🌹Ice's Lazy Loc Wash Routine🌹

I wanna preface this with two very important things:

I do not retwist my own locs! It would take far longer if I did. I have the tools and the means, and I know how to do it. I just hate doing it 🤣. It takes patience and arm strength and I lack the will. When I have the money I just schedule a retwist. Usually about every three months (which is longer than usual)

This is the way EYE do it! This is one experience out of countless, so don't assume my way is THEE way. There are people that will probably scream at me through the screen. But alas... It is "lazy" Loc wash day for a reason. And I do still care for my hair, and it's healthy and thriving for seven years (as of this Wednesday) 👍🏾

Okay? Okay.

Washing

The misconception about locs is that they are dirty. They're no "dirtier" than any other type of hair, nor do they require dirt to lock. That's a lie, and a racist one at that.

That being said, locs will end up holding the weight of life lol. Skin, sweat, dust, pollen, smells (and for me, bc I have dermatitis, scabs); all those things will end up weighing your locs down. Some people will do an Apple Cider Vinegar and Baking Soda wash to detox their locs.

However, I use this!

Essentially it's water, apple cider vinegar, orange peel, and some essential oils in a spray bottle, so I can spray it directly on my scalp and locs and massage it in deeply. Let it sit for a bit. Because I only wash my hair every 2 weeks or so, it's fine, but I wouldn't do this if I was washing it more frequently as it could mess up my scalp pH. Again, I have painful dermatitis, so it helps me get closer to my problem spots. Does it burn? Yes. It's working 👍🏾

Then I use this soap bar, which has things like coconut oil, aloe vera, eucalyptus, tea tree, almond, lemongrass, and more in it to scrub my scalp. You're supposed to rub it into your hands and scrub it in, so naturally I put the bar directly on my scalp. Be better than me. Smells AMAZING though and leaves my scalp clearer than it has ever been.

Medicated Shampoo

I use a medicated shampoo last. While that sits, I bathe 👍🏾 Bathe well, too 👍🏾 Please make sure your characters are bathing when they wash their hair 👍🏾

Once I'm done, I gently pull my locs apart (they WILL start tangling at the root IMMEDIATELY), then I wrap my hair in a beach towel. You're supposed to use t shirts because they're softer on curls, but I don't like water dripping on me while I get dressed. I put on easy to wear clothing. Tits loose clothing. I gotta be comfortable.

Medication

So if you know me, this is something I complain about ALL THE TIME. And it's how dermatology does NOT cater to Black patients! Even my shampoo says "for 30 days, wash every night". I'm Black with locs. My shampoos last for months bc that is impossible without me sacrificing my entire night, every night. Even if I had an Afro, we're still not supposed to wash our hair every night for fear of stripping the natural oils.

So I have to DEMAND I be given a medicated liquid solution. No petroleum based products!! A solution is the easiest way to reach my scalp. Does it burn? Yes. It's working. 👍🏾

So if your character has a skin issue (dermatitis, psoriasis, exzema excema eczema) on the scalp... Solutions are the easy way to go.

Moisturizing

I promise this isn't free ads lmao, I just happen to be experimenting with this company and I like what I've seen so far. This is a real lite oil spray with rose water and essential oils, and it cools my scalp.

Aloe Vera, the goddess of healing. Also cools my scalp and addresses those burning, pink spots from my dermatitis.

Drying

Drying depends on the length and thickness of your locs, and the temperature. Mine are shoulder length, pencil thick. Today I dried at real high heat (unintentionally) and it only took about an hour. At a lesser, safer heat, about two. This hair dryer bag is LIFE fr.

Conclusion

If I don't have anywhere else to go (and I don't, bc I plan my loc wash days like this) I spray my scalp with oil one more time, put on my loc sock, and then I'm done 👍🏾

Total time today: about two hours. Normally 3 at a lower dry temp. Not bad at all.

[tahyal]

Hey Tahyal! I hope all is well.

I have a lot of bloating going on right now. It seems to happen a lot before my cycle. Any recommendations?

Hello!

So from a purely physical perspective :

Are you eliminating properly ? (Do you go everyday?) - If not, focus on having regular bowel movements everyday and the bloating could subside just with that. Some things you can do for that are : Move everyday (could be gentle movements such as yoga, pilates, or even just walking), Drink enough water for your body weight, Eat more protein, as well as fiber to facilitate estrogen detox and to flush things out, and check your stomach acid levels, if they’re low you might want to try digestive bitters to facilitate the digestion process (Organic Olivia has a nice one in spray format).

I also recommend checking if you’re not magnesium deficient, as this mineral plays an important role in digestion, and in our body in general. Most people are deficient in Magnesium. If you do choose to supplement with it, I recommend the sunwarrior brand, its liquid and quite bitter, but its the best one ive tried composition wise!

Aside from that, here are some herbal teas that can help with bloating : Ginger & Mint, Dandelion root, Spearmint or Peppermint, Rose petal & Hibiscus.

Deep belly breathing exercises, Belly massages, and Foot massages to stimulate MMC (migrating motor complex) can all be great additions to your routine 🫶🏽.

Now from an emotional / mental perspective :

Bloating can occur when we are resisting something, bottling up emotions, or experiencing fear or anxiety. It’s our body’s way of trying to get our attention, urging us to get out of our heads and into our bodies, our emotions : to feel instead of analyze or strategize.

You might greatly benefit from journaling (no filter, write everything that comes up or that has been on your mind), mindfulness (sit with yourself and feel what comes up, do not resist, do not analyze, simply be present with yourself), Prayer (casting the burden on a Power Higher than you is liberating, knowing that you are ultimately seen and taken care of, regardless of what the circumstances are currently looking like).

If you’re up to do a bit of reading, I highly recommend these books : The emotion code by Dr Bradley Nelson, and Your body’s telling you : love yourself by Lise Bourbeau.

Check out Kori Meloy’s instagram as well, she has a plethora of information about women’s health.

Hope you feel well soon 🤍

[kayforpay]

oh man. would love to see ur take on Karkat arguing that Gamzee should even be allowed to _live_ on Earth C....

It was always awkward to have to ask someone to speak on your behalf. If not for Karkat's wary first approach, Gamzee simply wouldn't have asked at all; what he had done, even if it wasn't entirely under his control, wasn't something he would forgive.

He had liked Nepeta, appreciated Terezi, and tolerated Equius. He wouldn't forgive someone else, even if they didn't have foggy memories of monsters that sounded like his friends, that looked like eels moving under their skin, and the desperate need to eradicate them.

But Karkat was, like usual, better than he was.

Waking up in control of his body was a shock. He had spent days curled on his side, struggling to keep even liquids down and in more pain than he could recognize. How had he detoxed without feeling it? Every nerve in his body was burning for a wipe, and he didn't even try to contact anyone. The fact that he had come through the end of the game wasn't even on his mind until he realized that the hive he was in had windows that didn't have automated shades.

Before that, he had hoped that the entire ordeal was a dayterror.

Then, almost immediately after he was aware enough to realize what had happened, Karkat let himself in. Reddish tears streamed down his face as he collapsed next to Gamzee's pathetic pile, his voice hushed as he gripped Gamzee's horns almost painfully to force him to look up.

"You're alive. Thank the stupid fucking human god. You're alive." He had pressed his forehead to Gamzee's own, had cupped his cheeks, and shook with emotion. "I'm so glad. I was so worried, Gamzee. I was so scared, I thought you were-- I thought you didn't win with us."

Gamzee had put a hand on Karkat's cheek (no way he could have known how warm his skin was in real life, how different it would feel when his body was his own again, how soft) and finally let himself cry.

The next month, since the humans insisted on taking over calendars and the world was more human than troll, consisted of everyone getting their footing again. The ones who had reached god-tier were still there, but he didn't actually know if that counted him or not. He wasn't privy to what he did, in the long gaps when Aranea had smothered his consciousness under a sickening blue blanket. For all he knew, he was faking the entire time, just for her amusement.

After that, once everyone found each other again, since the game had seen fit to mix sessions and revive everyone for, presumably, some kind of fucked-up bonus prize, Gamzee was immediately on the outside. He didn't blame them. Nepeta and Terezi were terrified of him; Equius was disgusted with both Gamzee and himself, and seemed more ashamed than anything when their eyes would meet.

Karkat told him, clearly, that they would start over. That he needed to "get to know the real Gamzee", that they couldn't just step back in now that they weren't wrigglers. It made sense, and Gamzee did his best not to act like they were close (though it was hard, when Karkat would come over and end up in his lap to cuddle). Even so, Karkat tried to defend him.

"The problem wasn't Gamzee. The problem didn't-- He didn't fucking kill anyone until the mind control got to him. Before that, he wasn't hurting people." He said, standing up from the awkward meal they were sharing with Kanaya, her human wife, Vriska and Terezi. "If we're going to punish him for having been mind controlled, are we gonna punish Terezi? Or Vriska, for doing it?"

Gamzee looked at the plate in front of him and swallowed. It was silent, awkward, but Kanaya had brought up the fact that she couldn't blame anyone for being uncomfortable. "Kar, you don't gotta do this. It's okay." He tried to speak more softly than before, not just for privacy, but because he made people flinch when he was too loud.

"It isn't! It isn't fucking okay, Gamzee! I-- I know you! I knew you, and you wouldn't do that. You won't do it again." He turned his entire body, and tried to hold back more tears as he continued. "It isn't fair for just you to be punished. I fucked up too. We all fucked up. Kanaya has a fucking hole in her stomach, Sollux is blind... I don't know what to do about the Beforans."

He moved slowly, putting a hand on Karkat's shoulder. "I'll be okay, bro. I'm okay. I'm just so motherfuckin' happy I got to be in my body again at all." It was a lie, but he was better at lying than Karkat was, and he didn't think anyone noticed.

"I won't." Karkat said, glancing to the table and then back. "I won't be okay without you. I can't do it again. You're not allowed to go before me, so don't be fucking stupid and try it. I'm the mutant, I die first."

Carefully, Kanaya cleared her throat. "I... Don't want to interrupt. But I don't think anything can be decided immediately. Maybe some ground rules?" Her eyes settled on Rose, apparently looking for support.

"I think that would help." Rose said, much more cocksure than most of the humans Gamzee had seen. She seemed like she meant it. "As long as Gamzee can remain sober, and can meet with... Someone, maybe Vriska?" She met Vriska's eyes, and they both nodded. "To make sure that you do, and that Aranea isn't influencing you again, well... That's somewhere to start, isn't it?"

He nodded, and Terezi fake-coughed, loud enough to make Karkat jump. "I mean, I think that's fine. Like Karkat said, we all fucked up. It isn't like we can just let one weird fucking clown go around but not the other. And Gamzee isn't trying to sew anything shut." She cackled, but Gamzee remembered, though it was brief, how she sounded when sincere, and it seemed to match.

Nothing set in stone. Someone probing his mind all the time, but not controlling it, at least. And the chance to be alive, in control, again. That wasn't nothing. That was more than he let himself hope for.

[sepublic]

We don’t know what mysterious power runs through the Central Units, so I’ll HC that it emits gamma radiation; We know the Omega Cannon from Hunters also has it. So if we make both versions of the Omega Cannon the same/connected (which I think works, the Hunters version also fires periodic exploding shots), we could say that Samus depleted/released the energy powering the Omega Cannon after defeating Gorea.

But the upgrade, the capability, was always still there; Just like how you can run out of missiles, but once you unlock them, you can always replenish them from scratch. Samus just needed to find that same energy, that “ultimate power” again to do so. And lo and behold, the Central Units run on it, or something similar.

If we go with the HC/explanation that the Omega Cannon is designed to harm the user, so as to deter Gorea from copying it, then this could explain why Samus drops it after defeating each EMMI, when we know from a gameplay perspective at least that she has infinite uses; As long as the Omega Cannon is active, its radiation will damage Samus, and so she releases it ASAP. No good keeping the Omega Cannon for the next EMMI if it kills her before that encounter; And Samus knows by now that each EMMI has a corresponding Central Unit to restock with anyway.

Likewise, we know beta radiation causes Metroids to undergo mitosis. Mother Brain used this method on two different occasions to breed Metroids on Zebes. She controls the facilities, basically everything, and whenever she dies there’s a big explosion.

So HC that Mother Brain’s power comes from a nuclear reactor emitting beta radiation; Given her and the Central Units are the same type of tech, they also run on radiation, but use different types since they’re different models. Mother Brain exposes Metroids to her reactors 24/7, enabling them to reproduce. When she’s destroyed, Mother Brain is no longer maintaining the reactors, causing them to go into meltdown and explode.

You know how in Zero Mission, you can return to Tourian after destroying Mother Brain, and find the lava replaced with green liquid that harms even the Gravity Suit? It’s because the lava/acid from before got irradiated, that’s why; It might be some sort of battery acid that helps to power Mother Brain, and got over-charged from the reactor meltdown.

This radiation is powerful enough to keep an advanced supercomputer running; It contributes to Mother being far more advanced than the Aurora Units modeled after her. It also means that in the event of nuclear fallout, it takes a while for Space Pirates to detox the environment. This is why it took so long to rebuild Mother Brain; The Space Pirates needed to recreate her from Tourian’s systems, but they needed to clear the facility of radiation to do their work. It took both an extensive cleaning operation and waiting out the half life for Tourian to be repaired for Mother Brain’s revival.

[httpsoftbunni]

Acacia Honey

Anti-inflammatory action with benefits for the airway, helpful against sore throat, dry throat, and cough, energizing action, able to protect the stomach and the digestion, detox effect on the liver, mild laxative action, for external applications has moisturizing and protective qualities, useful to treat dry skin, irritated skin, and acne.

Robinia pseudoacacia, commonly known as black locus of false acacia, is a tree that belongs to the Fabaceae family. Thanks to this plant one of the best known and well appreciated honey is obtained. This honey is characterized by a light yellow color and a liquid consistency, it has a delicate taste and is also very versatile. It is highly digestible and energized and for this reason it is the ideal choice for breakfast or snack for sporty people or for those people who are going through very stressful times.

In addition to this, acacia honey has also a detox activity on the liver and is able to improve the intestinal functions with a mild laxative effect. It is able to counteract sour stomach and thanks to its anti-inflammatory and antiseptic properties, it can be added to herbal teas and decoctions to bring relief in case of problems of the respiratory tract, sore throat, cough and dry throat. Moreover, acacia honey can also be used as an ingredient for the preparation of cosmetics for the skin of the face, hands, and body. It has moisturizing and protective actions, making it perfect for dry and irritated skin.

You can prepare a mask by applying the honey directly to your face or body and letting it rest for 30 minutes before rinsing it off.

[ko-existing]

https://www.tumblr.com/ko-existing/779054356746108928/httpswwwtumblrcomko-existing7790223630608302?source=share

I once tried to take my life by taking 48 paracetamol pills and nothing happened to me.

I only fainted for a few hours and was in the emergency room, they did tests and everything was fine. (They couldn't pump my stomach because it had been too many hours)

Is it normal that nothing happened to me?

Changing the subject, right now my throat hurts a lot, I have a cold and that's why I took those medications but I don't know if the sore throat goes away.

What should I drink or eat? I also ate oranges.

My reply is LONG because I wanted to answer properly:

Your Liver Might Be Built Different

Some people naturally have higher glutathione stores, which helps neutralize paracetamol’s toxic byproducts.

If you’re young and healthy, your metabolism works faster, clearing the poison before it wrecks your liver.

Possible luck factor: If those pills were 325mg instead of 500mg, you took ~15.6g (still dangerous but survivable) instead of 24g (which is usually fatal without treatment)

Fainting (Possible reasons beside the OD)

Vasovagal syncope – Extreme stress/pain/fear → sudden blood pressure drop → lights out.

Hypotension from shock – Toxins messing with your circulation → brain said "nope".

Severe vomiting → dehydration – Less blood volume → less oxygen to brain → collapse.

Hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) – Your liver was too busy detoxing to maintain glucose.

Why the ER Didn’t Pump Your Stomach

If it’d been hours, the pills were already absorbed— It's very likely activated charcoal or IV NAC (antidote, N-acetylcysteine) would’ve still been administered (but I wasn't there, just a guess)

• Sore Throat:

��Magnesium (400mg max) → Good for immune support if you feel a cold coming.

✅Ginger tea + honey + lemon → Soothes nausea/throat

✅Milk + honey → Calming, easy on digestion.

✅Plain honey on a spoon → you can slowly lick it bit by bit

 Broth-based soups (chicken, miso, veggie) – Warm, hydrating, and easy to swallow.

 Congee/rice porridge – Soft, bland, and gentle on the throat (add ginger for anti-nausea).

 Mashed potatoes – Creamy, calorie-dense, and non-irritating.

Applesauce or banana – Cool, soft, and no chewing required.

Why? -> Warm liquids increase mucus flow, while soft foods avoid throat irritation.

🌎Honorable mentions

 Tsampa (Tibet) – Roasted barley flour mixed with butter tea or hot water.

Pros: High-energy, easy to digest, warm.

Cons: Can be thick—add extra liquid if swallowing hurts.

2. Talbina – Barley porridge sweetened with honey

Pros: Anti-inflammatory, gentle on the stomach.

Cons: Mild flavor but honey helps!

3. Honey

Direct spoonfuls – Coats the throat, reduces irritation.

In tea – Mix with ginger/lemon (but avoid caffeine if dehydrated).

Don’t give to babies less than 1 year old (I think everyone knows this)

4. Hydration (When Water Hurts)

Herbal teas (chamomile, licorice root but be careful with licorice. Not too much) , optional with honey

Coconut water – Electrolytes + no acidity.

Ice chips/popsicles – Numb the pain temporarily.

5. AVOID These (They’ll Make It Worse)

❌Citrus/acidic foods (orange juice, tomatoes) – Burn inflamed tissue. ❌Crunchy/spicy stuff – Chips, crackers, hot sauce = throat sandpaper. ❌ Dairy (if congested) – Can thicken mucus (but okay if it's just a sore throat).