#e zig

[ragazzoarcano]

“Essere abbattuti nella vita e un dato di fatto. Alzarsi e andare avanti è una scelta.”

— Zig Ziglar

[thoughtkick]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[soleillady]

Explicando abreviações e nomes usados na comunidade de ED

Sei que muitas pessoas estão chegando aqui na comunidade, então apesar de existir vários posts como esse, eu decidi fazer mais um, assim pode ter mais alguma informação ou chegar em mais pessoas que estejam com dúvidas.

Vamos lá! ↓ 💖

ED: Eating Disorder (transtorno alimentar)

T.A.: transtorno alimentar

Ana: apelido para anorexia

Mia: apelido para bulimia

LF: significa LOW FOOD (pouca comida), pode ser usado para dizer que vai comer pouco no dia, semana etc.

NF: significa NO FOOD (sem comida), é um jejum, e cada um faz esse jejum por um tempo determinado por si mesmo ou por alguma dieta, mas façam NF com moderação, pq pode ser bem perigoso.

MI: significa META INICIAL, é a sua primeira meta, aquele peso que você sonha em chegar mas ainda não é o ideal, o meu é 52kg por exemplo. Você pode ter várias dessas antes da meta final.

MF: significa META FINAL, é a sua meta de peso, aquele peso ideal para você, por exemplo, a minha é 45kg.

PI: significa PESO INICIAL, é o seu peso de quando você entrou nesse mundo, o meu por exemplo era entre 50kg e 52kg. Mas caso você tenha entrado em recovery ou algo assim, você pode usar o peso inicial desse recomeço, o meu seria 54,90kg.

PA: significa PESO ATUAL, é literalmente o seu peso atual, e você vai atualizando ao longo do tempo quando você for perdendo (ou ganhando) peso. O meu por exemplo é 53,95kg

Omad: significa ONE MEAL A DAY (uma refeição por dia). É tipo uma dieta, você só come uma refeição no dia, pode ser em qualquer horário que eu saiba e você coloca o seu limite de calorias.

MEALSPO: é como se fosse uma refeição inspiradora, se vc jogar isso no pinterest vc vai encontrar pratos com comidas limpas ou algo 0kcal por exemplo.

MEANSPO: é aquilo que te incentiva a continuar lutando pelo sonho de ser magra mas que é agressivo, tipo uma pessoa mandando você fechar a boca pois está enorme etc.

THINSPO: THIN: pode significar magro, fino, afinar. INSPO: vem de inspiration (inspiração). Sendo assim, THINSPO seria uma inspiração magra, e é usado para determinar que aquele corpo (um corpo magro) é a sua inspiração, a sua meta. Existem variações desse nome e cada uma delas determina o quão magro é o corpo, como por exemplo "deathspo" que é uma inspiração de corpo super magro, como se fosse um cadáver, daí vem o "death" do nome.

Comer limpo: acho que talvez não tenham dúvidas sobre isso, mas significa você comer saudável, comer frutas, legumes e verduras. Comer sujo seria um fast food.

0kcal: significa ter 0 calorias. Os mais ingeridos são as bebidas, como os refrigerantes zero, chás, cafés, mas existem outras bebidas 0kcal também. A água é 0kcal também e faz SUPER bem.

Miar: vem de Mia (bulimia). São formas de queimar calorias, seja vomitando, fazendo exercícios, usando diuréticos ou laxantes entre outros.

Intake: significa ingestão. É usado para se referir a quantidade de calorias que você consumiu durante o dia.

Recovery: é a recuperação de um transtornado, ele está tentando deixar de ser transtornado, normalmente com a ajuda de terapia, da família, amigos entre outros.

EDNOS: significa Eating Disorders Not Otherwise Specified (traduzindo mais ou menos: tanstornos alimentares não especificados). É quando uma pessoa possivelmente tem um transtorno mas ele não se encaixa em só um, a pessoa pode ter características da anorexia e vigorexia juntas por exemplo.

Compulsão alimentar: é o ato de comer compulsivamente, comer até lixo se for possível, não confundam com 4 docinhos que vocês comeram depois do almoço sem querer, isso é descontrole. Compulsão é muito mais sério, por isso é um transtorno também.

Platô: conhecido como efeito platô, é quando o seu peso simplesmente fica parado, ele congela, você não ganha peso e não perde peso. Por exemplo, eu to presa nos 53kg 🥴. Uma salvação é fazer a dieta zig-zag.

Bônus: dieta zig-zag consiste em em comer quantidades variadas de calorias durante um tempo, até vc sair do efeito platô. Para saber mais vcs podem acessar o perfil do @lucca-strangee, ele explica tudo direitinho lá 💖

LEMBRETE: Não se comparem com outras pessoas, quase todo mundo aqui não é realmente diagnosticado, então não se sintam mal caso vocês não sejam super magros e super transtornados que nem fulano q é assim e é super focado. Viver assim é muito difícil, mas depois de um tempo vira rotina. Não é legal, mas a cabeça de quem passa por isso também não é legal. Eu por exemplo já não ligo mais, a vida nem faz sentido e eu n consigo controlar nada, mas o meu peso eu tenho que conseguir controlar. É importante lembrar que isso é uma doença e que existem vários transtornos, mas normalmente os principais são a anorexia, bulimia e compulsão alimentar. Aqui quase todo mundo trata como um diário, conta inclusive as partes ruins, então n ache q é maneiro viver assim, a gente sabe que é uma doença, mas querendo ou não, isso vira "tipo" um estilo de vida.

CURIOSIDADE: o termo "borboletana" mistura borboleta com Ana (anorexia). Ana pois é o transtorno, e borboleta pois é um símbolo famoso entres as pessoas da comunidade (antes você é a lagarta, ao longo do processo de emagrecer você vai para a etapa do casulo, e quando você finalmente chega na sua meta você se torna uma linda borboleta). É um termo antigo que eu nem sei se é usado ainda pq hoje em dia os outros transtornos são mais reconhecidos e ter T.A. não se resume mais em ser anoréxico.

Juntei várias dúvidas gerais e algumas que eu tinha. Espero ter ajudado, podem me corrigir caso haja algum erro. Força para nós e boa sorte pra quem chegou agora. Amo vocês 💖

[stay-close]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[alinehateskcal]

PAREM DE REPASSAR DESINFORMAÇÃO CARALHO

se vc realmente tem t.a PESQUISA AS COISAS, vai atrás de informação, ESTUDA

tem um pessoal comendo menos de 1000 kcal e queimando tudo na academia. Ótimo. Mas tem uma parte dessas pessoas que acha que se não queimar TUDO o que comeu vai engordar, mesmo tendo comido menos do que a tmb.

amgs vamos dar uma pesquisada melhor?

tem um negócio chamado taxa metabólica basal, que é o tanto de calorias que seu corpo gasta pra te manter viva sem você precisar fazer NADA. Isso mesmo. Você PARADA, em REPOUSO. Isso significa que se você comer 500 kcal e não queimar nada, você vai emagrecer DE QUALQUER JEITO.

Lógico que queimar isso acelera o processo e até evita flacidez caso vc queime na musculação, mas não ache que se você comer 700 kcal e queimar só 500, vc vai engordar. Você vai estar em déficit calórico meu bem, é IMPOSSÍVEL engordar.

O que pode acontecer, é vc entrar em efeito platô, que é quando seu corpo entra em um estado de emergência (pq ele acha q vc tá tipo em uma selva morrendo de fome), então vc fica estagnada em um peso. Mas isso se resolve com dieta zig-zag.

mais uma coisa: musculação não vai te deixar bombada, n vai engrossar nem seus braços nem suas coxas. A menos que você faça bulking. Então não deixem de treinar com medo disso, pq se n vc vai ficar FLÁCIDA quando emagrecer.

TERMOS IMPORTANTES

• taxa metabólica basal: o tanto de calorias que seu corpo gasta em repouso. IMC 20 é em torno de 1.200 ~ 1.600 kcal a depender da sua altura, peso e atividade física. Tem calculadoras na internet.

• déficit calórico: a única coisa que emagrece. É quando você queima mais calorias do que consome. Levando em consideração, lógico, a sua taxa metabólica basal (é aqui que o pessoal se confunde)

• efeito platô: quando seu corpo entra em um estado de emergência e reduz seu metabolismo para conservar energia. Você fica estagnada em um peso.

• dieta zig-zag: alternar a ingestão calórica entre diferentes dias pra sair do platô.

• bulking: é quando vc aumenta MUITO sua ingestão calórica (mais do que a tmb) e faz musculação PESADA a fim de ganhar massa muscular. Visa um shape "cavalona".

• cutting: ao contrário do bulking, é quando você diminui a ingestão calórica a fim de perder gordura porém preservar o máximo de massa muscular possível. Visa um shape "slim".

[stevesjockstrap]

(late) kinktober chapter 6: Steve/Eddie & predator/prey

ao3 is down so here’s something for you to read

Rated E • warnings: chasing kink, pet names, dom!eddie, come play • ao3 link

(Ghost in the Graveyard is a kid’s game that’s sorta opposite of hide and seek. The ‘ghost’ hides and everyone looks for them, but when someone finds them they yell “ghost in the graveyard” and the ghost has to try to tag one of the players before they get to base. Maybe an Old thing, maybe a Midwest thing?)

ETA: requested and cheerleaded by @lawrencebshoggoth 😘

Teaching the kids Ghost in the Graveyard had been all fun and games, literally, until Steve found himself being chased by Eddie towards Wheeler's front porch. He was sprinting all out but he could hear Eddie on his heels. He hadn’t been running for his life lately, while Eddie had been through a lot of physical therapy.

It sent a different kind of rush through his body and suddenly he thought maybe he would like to get caught.

Letting his instincts take over, he faked left then zigged right, Eddie flying past him as he changed directions. With an evil laugh, Eddie quickly tagged El who had stopped running to watch.

Steve grinned at him as he approached, El and the rest of the kids taking off to continue the game.

“Almost had you, my pretty,” Eddie said in a spooky voice.

“Almost let you, but I didn’t want the kids to see this,” he said lowly, finally pressing close as he met his boyfriend’s mouth.

Eddie was a bit shocked, taking a long moment to get his bearings before he took over the kiss, making Steve’s stomach swoop.

With a hum, he pulled back to look at Steve’s face. He must’ve finally gotten the picture, because he looked around quickly before pulling him to the side of the house.

Steve groaned when he was pressed bodily against the cold brick, an equal hardness pressing into his.

“Didn’t think the whole roleplaying thing was for you, Stevie,” Eddie teased.

“Maybe I don’t need the roleplaying part, just you desperate to catch me.”

Eddie bit into the meat of his jaw before moving his lips to his ear. “I’m always desperate for you, baby. I’ll ravage you anywhere any time.” He met his mouth in a filthy kiss, swallowing down his moan when he pressed his hips forward.

They broke apart as some called out in the yard behind them, “Ghost in the graveyard!’

Taking a second to breathe, Steve chuckled at the look he received. “We’ll continue this, later.”

“You bet we will,” Eddie grumbled.

As they approached the front of the house, Eddie shouted, “Last round, beastlings! Gotta get you all home.”

They all whined but finally Max ran off to hide.

By the time they’d gotten all the kids home safely, Steve was buzzing with anticipation of what he’d be met with at home.

All of the lights were out, which was strange as he always left a few on.

Unable to help himself, he called out into the darkness. “Eddie?”

The silence that met him was unnerving. His van was outside. He had to be there.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he saw his hook was stabbed through a piece of paper. Ripping it down quickly, coat now forgotten, he held the scrap up into the beam of moonlight through the window.

In Eddie’s jagged scrawl was written run.

Even though he had asked for this, uncertainty began coiling in his chest. Again he called out, “Eddie?”

But it echoed around his still house unanswered.

Adrenaline surged and he dropped his coat and the note and took off for the stairs. As soon as he reached them, he heard the thundering footsteps through the dining room. Eddie must’ve left his boots on.

Taking the steps two at a time, he half pulled himself up by the railing, while Eddie’s boots and unfamiliarity with his house slowed him down. Having gained some distance, he shot down the hall and quickly stepped into the hall bathroom.

Eddie hurried past the door and headed down towards the bedrooms. Steve held his breath and as quietly as he could slid the linen closet open and hid.

Trying to calm his racing heart, a different stirring in his belly had his cock filling.

“Oh Stevie,” Eddie called down the hall, having now checked all the bedrooms. “Want to make this hunt last, huh? We both know the little mouse wants to be caught.”

The bathroom light suddenly flicked on. He pulled his lips in between his teeth, trying to not breathe loudly as he stared out of the slats of the door. His heart was thundering loudly in his ears.

“Oh no, where could he be? I guess I just have to give up,” Eddie teased, ripping open the shower.

He pushed the heel of his hand against the bulge in his jeans. How was he so close already?

He blinked and his body reacted when the closet door was yanked open, he found himself jumping out and knocking a surprised Eddie back a few feet. His legs carried him towards the doorway, but he was caught around the middle and pushed face first towards the sink.

“Little mouse has teeth,” Eddie panted into his neck. “Let me show you mine, pretty.”

Steve cried out as teeth buried themselves into the muscle in his shoulder.

A hot tongue traced over the bite and up to his jaw, sending tingles down his spine. He just-

“So pretty like this, all writhing and caught,” Eddie murmured against his ear. One ringed hand found its way to his hair, pulling at the root as the other flicked across his chest.

An answering hardness pushed against his ass and the instinctual arch of his back made the head of his cock push just right against the edge of the counter.

Unable to find any words in his head, he tried frantically to make eye contact with Eddie in the mirror, but he was leaning in again to scrape sharp teeth down the tight line of his neck.

“Such a delicious little mouse I caught,” Eddie continued.

He sucked a mark into his neck, sliding his hand through the hair on his chest before coming to a stop with his palm flat.

“I can feel your heart going a mile a minute, baby.”

Steve could only pant while he received a filthy grin in the mirror. He felt helpless and caught, unable to move the tiniest bit to relieve the heavenly pressure on his cock. Stuck between the hard countertop and Eddie’s seemingly unmovable mass behind him. In his boots he was a few inches taller than him and that made him feel even more trapped.

But apparently none of that was a problem for his dick.

Eddie’s fingers pinched hard around a nipple and his body jolted with the sudden sting, quivering and shaking and making his hips push back and forth.

He tried to say something again, but the only thing that he managed was a whined, “Ohhh no, oh fuck!”

Steve’s hands clenched onto Eddie’s forearm as his orgasm ripped through him, his hips moving on their own accord as he emptied himself into his briefs.

“Did you…?”

Steve panted, clenching his eyes shut. He couldn’t believe it either.

“Oh my god, Stevie,” Eddie breathed.

“I’m sor-“

Eddie tugging him around to face him, stopping him with his own lips. When they finally broke apart, he received a wide grin. “Don’t you dare be sorry, sweetness. That is so fucking hot. You really liked this game, huh?”

Steve, still unsure, just nodded. He let go of Eddie’s arms and was immediately pulled close again, whining into the hard kiss as his sensitive cock came into contact with Eddie’s own hardness.

With a low hum, he pecked his bottom lip then his nose before pulling away again. “C’mon baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Finding himself sprawled on his back in his own bed still trying to calm his racing heart, Steve cried out as Eddie’s hot tongue swiped over his spent cock.

Catching his eye before he could form words, Eddie smirked up at him. “What? When the cat catches the mouse, he gets to play with it.”

After another long lick while holding eye contact, Steve watched as he crawled up his body to meet him in a messy kiss, sharing his come between them.

Eddie chuckled against his mouth and pulled back slightly to look at him. He realized he’d spread his legs, wrapping them around his hips. “You need more, baby? Still all wound up, huh?”

He nodded, and his belly swooped low again at the dark look he received for it. “Y-yes, Eds, need more. Need you.”

“Alright, little mouse. We can definitely do that.”

The nickname was killing him, as much as it was embarrassing and teasing, it made him want to give Eddie anything he wanted.

Instead of removing himself from Steve’s legs, he rolled them completely, Steve’s hands reaching for anything to hold on to. His weight settled on Eddie and he moaned.

Someone started rolling their hips and their mouths found each other’s again.

“Please. Please, Eddie,” Steve found himself begging into the space between their kisses.

Eddie shushed and cooed at him, sliding a hand between them. He then took the combination of their fluids and circled his fingers around his hole.

“More, c’mon,” he groaned.

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you? Here I thought I was getting to play with my treat.”

Steve clenched his fists into Eddie’s hair, arching his back at the perfect burn of just his come and Eddie’s spit opening him up.

His cock was trapped between them, rubbing against Eddie’s butter soft jeans.

Suddenly, he was looking up at the ceiling and Eddie wasn’t touching him anymore. Before he could complain, a tube landed on his chest.

Eddie was standing beside his bed, finally shrugging out of his layers and unbuckling his belt.

“Go ahead.”

The command itself almost had him coming again. He warmed up the lube in his hands, making sure to keep watching as the boots, belt, jeans and boxers were quickly removed. But then he lubed up his fingers and slid them inside of himself, allowing his eyes to unfocus.

“So fucking perfect for me, Stevie. God, look at you.”

Another rough finger slid alongside his own and immediately rubbed against his prostate.

“Nooo, Eds. Too close. Please! Need your cock!”

Eddie yanked his hand away by the wrist and settled between his legs.

The initial stretch stole the breath from him, his body relaxing completely as Eddie sunk in.

Steve wrapped his legs around him again and he kissed across his chest and neck, making him cry out with his slow deep rolls of his hips.

He’d never been so incredibly turned on, felt so incredibly needed and wanted. Every time with Eddie had, of course, been amazing, but now the adrenaline high coupled with him being so fucking sweet was magnifying every sensation.

“Gunna- fuuuck Eds,” he wailed as his second orgasm hit him like a freight train.

Eddie fucked him through it, groaning as his walls clenched around him. “That’s it, baby. Perfect little prey for me. Maybe I’ll suck my come from you. Make you come again until you’re screaming. What do you think? Huh? Cat got your tongue?”

Steve gasped as his mouth was overtaken again, his tongue sucked and bit as Eddie’s thrusts became irregular. They both cried out as he filled him up.

“Now what?”

Eddie looked over at him, raising a shoulder. “Order pizzas?”

He grinned. “Race you!”

dividers by @/puppy-stevee and @/fuctacles

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 31

part 1 | part 30 | ao3

updating the rating to E. cw: recreational drug use/marijuana, foreplay, mild-to-moderate spit kink

“I feel like a water bottle,” Steve slurs. At some point he wiggled his way between Eddie’s legs to get a better look at his tattoos — starting at his ankles and working his way up, pointing at each piece and asking, "What's this? And what's that?"

Eddie explained each one in turn: the quotes, the lyrics, the silly art. "This one's the Elvish word for friend. That one's from an Iron Maiden song. Oh, the asterisk? It's supposed to be an asshole. No, I'm serious! That's how Vonnegut drew them in his books."

Now Steve’s lying flat on his back between Eddie’s splayed thighs, eyelids heavy, body warm. 'Go Your Own Way' plays softly on the stereo, and Eddie continues his tattoo tour, the fingers of his free hand weaving patterns through Steve's hair — lazy, twirling zig-zags that send skitters of sensation across his scalp and down his spine.

Steve feels like he could die right now. Happy. Held. Content.

Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

“This is fucking awesome,” he hums.

“Good,” Eddie grins at him, “I’m glad.” He scratches lightly at his scalp. “What were you, uh— what were you saying about a water bottle?”

Oh, right. Steve lifts a hand; pantomimes tilting a bottle back and forth. “Like, uh….. Sssloshy.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie snorts. “You’re so high.”

“Mmmmhm.”

“And you look like you’re jerking off a ghost."

“I’ll jerk off your ghost,” Steve mutters petulantly.

"I’m sure my ghost would love that.”

Eddie reaches for the joint and takes another drag, and Steve tilts his neck, arching up to look at him. Bites his lip at the pretty picture Eddie makes: the sharp shadows and delicate lines, the shape of his full lips exhaling rings of smoke. Big for a guy's. He remembers thinking that a couple weeks ago. That they were big. That they looked soft.

And now he thinks: Kissable.

Steve licks his lips. “What about your, uh- not ghost?”

Eddie laughs like he’s watching a newborn puppy try to walk. “You want to touch my dick so bad.”

“S’probably a good dick,” Steve shrugs, unashamed.

He probably should be — ashamed. Guilty for the feelings stirring deep inside his chest; feelings weed brings to the surface, sends southbound, turns to need. He can imagine how the good, god-fearing Catholics who raised him would react if they could see him now, how they'd foam and froth and rage, red-faced and covered in spittle as they shouted that he's condemning himself to Hell.

But the thing is, he's already in Hell. He's been here since July.

And anyway, Hell's kinda nice. Gentle and warm, surprisingly kind. Hell smells like leather and tobacco, like weed and aftershave, and it sounds like Lindsey Buckingham, and it likes to braid Steve's hair.

Hell has endless, inky eyes and probably kisses him with tongue.

Heat spreads through him like molten honey at the thought, spilling hot over the edges, curling in his core, and Steve turns his head to the side and drags his mouth over a tattoo on Eddie’s inner thigh — a cartoon cloud over a curled-up snoozing fox. He noses at the edge of Eddie's shorts; pushes them up.

Goosebumps pebble under the warm press of his lips. "What's this one?" Steve whispers, nudging the fabric further up.

Eddie’s laugh is quiet and strained. "Something I don't want to discuss with your mouth this close to my dick. Stevie," he warns, but it's breathless, full of want. There's a wet spot on his shorts.

Steve pushes onto his belly, blows hot breath over the spot, liquid fire coursing through him at he stares at the bulge in Eddie’s shorts. Blistering heat, the sweetness dense, rich and thick on his tongue; in his veins. He mouths at the crease of Eddie's thigh. Eddie smells so good, like skin and sweat and boy, and Steve wants this. Wants it so badly he feels the ache inside his teeth. I dreamed the goddess poured ambrosia...

Steve feels it drip from head to toe.

"Steve." Eddie's voice is sharp this time, commanding and firm as he fists a hand in Steve's hair — not hurting him; not letting him move. Keeping him from putting his mouth just where he wants.

Steve makes a desperate sound and rocks his hips against the bed.

"Steve, stop," Eddie scolds. Pulls his hair a little harder, like he’s tugging on a leash.

"Eddie, please.” Steve’s eyes roll back, and he shifts his hips again. Just once; just a bit. Not nearly hard enough.

"No. Behave. Be good."

Steve freezes — tenses every muscle, holds himself so still, his face flushing with shame, because he didn’t mean to not be good. Didn’t mean to do anything bad. He blinks at Eddie with watery eyes and says he’s sorry, his voice cracking around the word.

"God," Eddie groans. His fist tightens in Steve’s hair, and his hips twitch off the bed, the curve of his cock brushing the tip of Steve's nose. Fuck. "Holy shit. Roll over."

"What?"

"On your back, like you were before." He’s panting when he says it, and Steve does as he's told; flips over onto his back, face bracketed by Eddie's thighs, the tent in his own shorts embarrassingly big. Obvious.

"Good,” Eddie exhales. “That’s- Jesus. Yeah, that’s good." He sinks back against the wall with a winded sigh.

And then he doesn't say anything else.

Doesn’t even move, just slouches down to catch his breath.

Steve kind of wants to cry; feels chastised and stupid, because of course Eddie doesn't want this. He already said he didn't, didn't he? Not tonight, anyway. And now Steve’s ruined things by being high and dumb and selfish, getting himself worked up over nothing and making it Eddie’s problem, and he'll probably spend the rest of this night miserable and blue-balled because he's a horny idiot, but that's—

It’s fine, if Eddie wants to cool things off; if he doesn't want to— he's allowed to not want—

"Here's what's about to happen.”

Steve snaps his head up to listen. Twists his neck around, sees Eddie lounging against the wall like a bored king on a throne, one ringed hand cupping himself loosely through his shorts. He squeezes once, takes another deep breath; lets it out long and controlled. Steve’s gonna fucking drool. "You’re gonna touch yourself for me.”

Steve moans. Guttural and loud, the sound punched out of his lungs, because Eddie’s voice comes out like gravel — husky, deep, the words authoritative and slow; like Steve needs to be punished; like Eddie’s merciful.

“You’re going to touch yourself exactly how I tell you to, and only how I tell you to. If I say stop, you stop. If I say faster, you speed up. If it's too much—" His hand moves to Steve’s cheek, slapping lightly against the bone. “—you tap out, or you tell me.”

Steve nods his head, entranced. Eddie’s thumb moves to his mouth. “And if you’re very, very good…” He tugs his bottom lip; presses in; lets him suck. “…then I’ll let you watch me come. How does that sound?”

Steve whines; hollows his cheeks, sucking harder, flicking his tongue. Eddie’s thighs clamp down around him, and when he pulls his hand away the spit clings to his thumb, a delicate string connecting them before it breaks. “Asked you a question, sweetheart.” He smears the spit over Steve’s chin. “Does that sound good?”

Steve nearly swallows his tongue.

—

part 32

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[bflysthings]

Besteiras fit para anas espertas

Essas receitas são para quem está desesperado no ponto de estar quase tendo descontrole. Amores, sejamos espertas. Tá tudo bem comer alguma coisa, desde que esteja dentro da sua dieta... Então aqui vai algumas receitas fit para anas que sabem que a melhor forma de não ter o descontrole é ter ele da forma mais calculada possível, ou seja, RECEITAS DE CONTROLE DE DANOS:

1- Mousse de maracujá

Esse daqui eu AMO de coração e é extremamente rápido de fazer. O que precisa? Leite em pó desnatado, adoçante e maracujá. Acabou

Adoce o quanto quiser e coloque leite em pó até chegar no ponto que gosta. 100 gramas de maracujá tem 97 calorias, eu geralmente uso 1 colher de leite em pó e um pouco de gelatina, fica delicioso e fica menos de 150 kcal. Leve na geladeira e ACABOU, é ótimo pros dias de tpm. As calorias dependem somente de você e seu ponto. Quem quiser aquela consistência mais durinha, coloca uma micro colher de gelatina incolor e pronto.

2- Gelatina do tiktok

Outra receita izi demais e deliciosa. O que precisa? Gelatina zero, iogurte natural desnatado e um sonho. Faz a gelatina, bate na batedeira com o iogurte e bota pra gelar. A gelatina zero tem 5 calorias, o iogurte tem 80 o pote. Extremamente low cal e delicioso, seja feliz. Rende bastante e TUDO fica menos de 100 calorias.

3- Uva congelada

É só isso, lava a uva e congela. É ótimo pra quem tem boquinha nervosa e gosta de snacks nos momentos de ansiedade. Você pode porcionar em sacolinhas e comer isso ao invés de qualquer besteira. Pra aquela vontade de doce momentânea é ótimo e low cal.

4- Pizza de pão de forma

É uma receita que precisa tomar mais cuidado, tem que porcionar muito bem pra todas ficarem com menos de 200kcal.

O que precisa? Uma fatia de pão de forma, molho de tomate (bem pouco), meia fatia de presunto, meia fatia de mussarela, 1 rodela de tomate, orégano e se gostar: algumas rodelas de ovo cozido e umas rodelas de cebola. Só monta na ordem que falei e coloca na airfryer até derreter o queijo. Se fizer certo, vai dar 200kcal no máximo cada um.

Quando faço, fica 150 kcal no máximo. Eu faço muitos NF e meu estômago diminuiu muito, então só um já me deixa satisfeita. Não é uma receita pra quem quer comer muito e ficar tranquila.

Você pode utilizar também biscoito de arroz ao invés de pão e requeijão light ao invés de mussarela.

5- Macarrão de abobrinha

É uma receita que não chega tão perto do sabor e muita gente não vai gostar, mas é muito boa pra quem realmente está desesperado. É só pegar uma abobrinha e ralar ela deitada. Vai criar "macarrões" de abobrinha, daí é só fazer o molho e não colocar água, joga a abobrinha e ela mesma solta água. Não cozinha muito, se não a abobrinha some. Se fizer só molho e abobrinha, vai ficar menos de 100 calorias uma porção. Yay.

(*^▽^)/★*☆♪

Por enquanto é isso meus amores, espero que ajude vocês a terem um pensamento mais saudável com relação à comida, é a falta dela que te faz desejar tanto por ela ❤️

Você não vai emagrecer enquanto estiver compulsionando e comendo besteiras. A melhor forma de não ter compulsão, pra mim, é literalmente comer em zig zag. Comer sempre a mesma quantidade mínima de calorias, a sua chance de falhar aumenta muito. Palmas pra quem consegue, mas sejamos espertas, se você já tentou e percebeu que não dá certo pra você, pra que insistir no seu erro?? Não existe só um jeito de emagrecer e é só encontrar o SEU jeito ideal. Quando sinto que estou com vontade de comer besteira, eu faço uma dessas receitas e passa, comi 150kcal, o que é completamente cabível dentro de um planejamento diário, e evitei uma compulsão futura. Foi assim que emagreci quase 15 quilos até agora meus amores. Repito: Sejam anas espertas, parem se insistir no erro.

[artbyblastweave]

So, the thing about Ward's worldbuilding is, it's bad on purpose. This is something I didn't catch until a relisten of the earlier parts, but the disconnect between the actual literal apocalypse that occurred two years prior and the shockingly advanced levels of infrastructure and technology is very deliberate. The entire thing is slapdash and farcical. You have people out the door of a shitty concrete hovel lining up for bad coffee. You have cars built out of random scavenged parts, "dumpsters" that Victoria can't manhandle because they're made of clumsily-welded-together scrap metal. Victoria can't reliably navigate at night because power to the city below is intermittent (and her mother Carol happens to live in one of the parts that does have consistent power; that's unexamined, make of it what you will.) The mall cluster shitshow goes down in a "mall" that, IIRC, is called out later as having been basically a dead end economically, a doomed grasp at a sense of normalcy. The patrol block uses recycled PRT gear, Dot's interlude involves the machine army jumping a bunch of bog-standard apocalypse scavengers. What you're looking at isn't a new society built up shockingly quickly; you're looking at the previously-well-supplied-and-externally-supported outpost of the recently destroyed society, and after two years they're finally chewing through the last of the head start they got. The societal equivalent of Wile. E. Coyote hanging in the air above the cliff, or of the seemingly-untouched duelist seconds away from sliding in half. Unfortunately, due to choices made about the timeframe and focus of the story, the Coyote sprouts wings. The duelist whips out a staple gun. Or to come at this from another angle- in The Walking Dead, a comic I really like, I can sort of organize the arc of the apocalypse into three-ish big chunks. For the first eight or nine months in universe, about 48 issues, things are obviously bad, right, quite a few people have died, but there's a sense among Rick and company that they might be able to ride it out, that things are on the upswing. They've got crops going, they have new births, maybe help from the government proper isn't coming the way they thought it might towards the start, but things are looking up! Then, of course, the Great Fuckening of Volume Eight occurs, and you enter the middle phase of the comic, where they're down to like a third of their group, they're food-insecure, they're constantly on the move, they're under attack from rapists and cannibals who've descended into habitual atrocity because they're totally without hope. Children are having mental breaks and killing children, the first friendly guy Rick met in the whole comic is now an insane hermit feeding dead bodies to his undead son, on and on and on and on and on. Bad times, but a comparatively short middle in the grand scheme of things. Then they find Alexandria, and the back half of the comic is spent basically on an upward trajectory with some zig-zags, there are still periodic existential threats but they're clearly past the nadir.

Ward feels like it starts midway through that first part, the you-don't-know-how-much-worse-this-can-get part, with the emphasis on the social tensions, the encroaching winter, but then it just...doesn't get much worse. I mean they have a rough three months, but then they sort of speedrun right to the hopeful future ending as soon as the titans are dealt with. There were parts that I suspect were supposed to be the dark-night-of-the-soul I'm alluding to but they didn't land as such. I feel as though the superhero genre stuff kind of subordinated the apocalypse stuff, made it less visible by virtue of whose POV we were following, and sometimes I feel that as a remedy to this, Ward should have taken place over the course of years, and it should have Just Kept Getting Worse. For example Breakthrough should have had to kill and eat Rain to survive the winter

[thlayli-ra]

Trick or treat is such a fun idea!

Could I request a Punkintyre ficlet with the shock collar prompt 🥺 (I would very much appreciate Drew being the one in the collar but I leave the details in your very capable hands)

Ok so, just, let me explain myself here! By the time this prompt came through I had already received the Cody Rhodes 'Shock Collar' prompt and I didn't want to essentially write the same fic so I tried to come up with something different and I couldn't stop thinking about this gifset from Bad Blood and @fantasticalleigh 's tags on it about Punk and Drew being like two beasts mating in captivity, and it made me think of the original Planet of the Apes movie and well... this is the final result. Hope it's kinda, sorta what you were hoping for (I'm sorry!)??? 😬

Trick - 'Shock Collar'

Characters - CM Punk, Drew McIntyre

Rating - Mature (18+)

Warning Tags - Alien Abduction, Drugging, Breeding, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Rough Sex

'Punk! Wake up! Wake up, ye stupid prick!'

A meaty palm slapped his cheek, stirring him from his deep sleep. 'Ow!' Punk grunted moodily. 'What the fuck's wrong with you?'

It was then that he saw the raw terror in Drew McIntyre's eyes. 'Everything is wrong! Everything is as fucking wrong as it can possibly be!'

His vision started juddering back into focus and Punk spied the metal above Drew's head. For a split second he thought they were both in the Cell, and that he'd taken a bad bump and passed out during their match but he soon realised that these were not the zig-zag mesh of Hell in a Cell.

These were bars!

They were both locked in some kind of cage!

Punk sat up like a shot to look around. The cage was large, more like an enclosure, and rich in foliage, wiry bushes, dirt and rocks. Punk was lying on a bed of hay in the top-most corner, under a bamboo canopy like some kind of animal in a zoo.

'Drew?' he stammered out. 'Where the hell are we?'

'I have no idea...'

The large Scot lumbered up to his feet and tentatively stepped out from under the canopy and into the make-shift forest. Behind him, Punk gawked when he noticed Drew's attire. Or lack of it! 'What are you wearing?'

Drew glanced down at the sparse shred of clothing to his name - a loin-cloth made from animal pelt draped around his waist and a metal collar around his neck. 'Same as you,' he shot back and Punk looked down and found to his horror that Drew was right. Letting out a curse, he shoved the front of his loin cloth down between his legs to give himself some decency then moved his fingers up to inspect the steel collar at his throat. It was bolted fast. The panic escalated into full-on alarm! 'What the fuck is going on?'

'Shh,' Drew hushed him, his ears pricked.

'You hear something?' Punk whispered.

'Shut up!'

Drew edged his way forward, reaching out his long arm to swipe through a clump of giant leaves and push them aside to reveal-

'JESUS CHRIST!' Drew toppled backwards with fright, landing hard on his lower back.

'FUCK!' Punk yelled, shuffling further back into his corner.

Quick as a flash Drew rushed up beside him, the two men shaking with terror. 'You saw that, right?' the Scot asked.

'Yeah,' Punk hushed out, trying to process what he had just seen. 'Yeah I saw it.'

Behind the leaves there had been a gap in the bars, filled with what looked like glass. A viewing gallery to peer into their enclosure. And there standing at the window were two figures crafted from their very nightmares. Impossibly tall and thin, something not of his world or the limits of his understanding, something that was completely...

...alien!

Suddenly a high-pitched shriek tore through Punk's head. He let out a wail as the pain screeched behind his eyes, covering his ears to try and stifle the blare.

'-creatures of P-0087453-E,' a tinny voice spoke inside Punk's very skull. 'We believe they refer to it as Earth-'

'W-what's happening?' Drew gritted out through his clenched teeth, tearing at his hair. He could hear it too!

'I don't know, I- GAH!'

'-simple creatures, not highly advanced. They can be prone to acts of violence and aggression, acting purely on their most basic urges-'

'I can hear a voice!' Punk yelled over the static in his skull. 'I think... I think it's them. Whatever they are!'

'I hear it too. How is that possible?'

'I have no idea! AAAGHHH!' The pain was growing, like somebody was blasting a badly tuned radio in his head.

'-but incredibly rare and valuable. Which is why our experts identified these two as a fertile pair and brought them here for our breeding programme-'

Punk froze. Had he really heard that right? Or did he just imagine it? Glancing up at Drew he was shocked to find the Scot looking deathly pale. He was afraid the larger man was about to keel over any second and shook him roughly by the shoulder to snap him out of his stupor. 'Hey, you ok?'

'This can't be happening! This is all some fucked up dream. This can't be-'

'-we will start our programme by activating the pheromones in the dominant male-'

Punk's stomach fell out from under him, wondering what on Earth that meant! Perhaps there was some kind of mechanism in the cage that would spray it into the enclosure? Anticipating it, he grabbed in a lungful of air and held it, waiting, listening, watching for anything to happen.

But nothing did.

He released his breath with a loud gasp, coughing oxygen back into his bloodstream. 'I think we're in the clear,' he told Drew, 'I didn't see or hear anything and I don't feel any different so-'

Drew let out a heavy grunt beside him, cutting him off and Punk turned to find the Scot shaking his head like he was trying to fend off an incoming sneeze.

'Drew? What's wrong?'

Drew's head shot up, his gaze finding Punk and fixing on him. His pupils were completely blown, erasing all the blue from his eyes. Making him resemble some kind of wild animal in the woods, a bear or wolf or... no, more like a shark circling the water, smelling fresh blood. Strong and dangerous. And hungry!

Guess he'd just found out who the so-called 'dominant male' was, and if that was Drew, then what exactly did that make Punk?

'Pheromones activated. Now all we have to do is wait and we'll hopefully see the mating rituals of this fascinating species.'

Shhhhhit! 'D-Drew?'

But the larger man wasn't listening! Settling onto his haunches like a crouched tiger, he began to stalk closer to his prey who scrabbled backwards with a yelp but where could Punk go? They were completely caged in and inevitably his spine collided with the metal bars of the cage, cutting off his retreat. Drew was on him now, mammoth arms boxing him in on either side and trapping him completely.

'Drew! Snap out of- urk!'

Punk's heart twisted with fear when Drew's bear paw found his chin, grasped it and lifted it up like he had done so many times before. The black, lifeless eyes looked him all over, Drew tilting his head slightly and giving that exact same elated smirk he'd worn back in the Cell at the first sight of Punk's blood. The hand at his chin then went for his throat, wrapping around Punk's collar and pushing him back until the base of his skull clattered against the bars.

Eyes clouded. No thoughts, only instinct.

'Drew! Hey McIntyre, listen to me!' Punk tried to break through the Scot's hysteria, tried to snap him out of this trance. 'You gotta fight it, you hear me? Fight it!'

But it was in vain. Punk's mouth was abruptly gagged by Drew's invading tongue, the larger man growling and snarling, rumbles vibrating down his throat and through their chests pressed together, while large, thick hands stroked all over Punk's shoulders and back and chest and nipples then trailed down his ribs and stomach and pelvis to-

'NO!' Punk wrenched his face to the side, freeing his mouth. His hand grabbed hold of Drew's wrist, stopping it in its tracks. 'GET OFF! STOP IT, DREW! THIS ISN'T YOU!'

And then the blue flickered back into Drew's eyes and for a brief moment, his humanity returned, only to be engulfed once again. 'No, no, no, no,' Drew pushed himself off of Punk, stumbling away. Punk, still packed tight against the bars of the cage, watched as the Scot roared in distress, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, twisting his head from left-to-right and back again, a man trying to evade a swarm of invisible wasps.

'No,' he growled under his breath. 'No, not like this! Not this way!' Drew blinked the blue back into his eyes, holding onto himself again, however fleetingly. Then turned his attention towards the window of terror hidden away at the far end of the cage. 'No!' he spat at their captors, 'I won't!'

'-hmm, perhaps the first dose wasn't strong enough. Activating a second dosage-'

This time, Punk saw the powder puff up from Drew's metal collar, engulfing his face, and like before he struggled and writhed, trying to evade the poison but it was clinging to him, following him around the enclosure no matter how far he tried to run. His roars filled the air, Punk quaking with fear at its feral nature. Too scared to move, he watched as the huge Scotsman bent down and heaved a huge rock right up out of the ground.

'What the hell is he-?'

Drew rushed towards the observation window, the boulder raised high, meaning to throw it right through the glass and shatter it to smithereens.

'Immediate threat detected. Engaging collar!'

A loud crackle and Drew tossed his head back, screaming in agony. The boulder plunged from his arms and his body soon followed, both hitting the floor with a crash.

Punk leapt up to his feet, his heart in his throat.

'There, that should pacify him-'

But their captors grossly underestimated the fortitude of their prisoner. 'I'm no some beast in a cage,' he croaked, dragged his arms under him to push himself up, 'and you won't reduce me to one!'

'Shock him again!'

Another crackle and Drew fell onto his back, spine rigid and arched painfully off the filthy floor, howling through his gritted teeth, until the shockwave released him and all four limbs flopped, lifelessly. From his position by the bars, Punk held his breath, looking for any sign of life.

It all seemed hopeless. Until Drew rolled his hips back.

Unbelievably, he flipped up onto his feet in a perfect kip-up, just like he would in the ring and before they had a chance to shock him again, he grabbed up the boulder and launched it through the air with all his might.

'WATCH OUT! WATCH OUT!'

Drew went down with another terrible shockwave just as the boulder crashed against the glass, not shattering it but creating a crack that almost split the screen in two. Only this time, the gruelling torture didn't stop. The shocks continued, the Scot's body contorted horribly, flailing rigidly in the dirt. Punk rushed towards him, hearing the electricity running through his fellow wrestler, seeing the turmoil on his face. He looked towards that window of terror, and the creatures hidden behind the fractured spiderweb of broken glass.

'That's enough!' he yelled towards it, hoping that, by some miracle, if he could hear those things that they could hear him too. 'You'll kill him! Stop!'

But still the jolts continued, one after the other. And now Drew wasn't screaming anymore and Punk could see froth foaming at his mouth, his blue eyes rolling into the back of his head.

'I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!'

Still nothing. Punk's head went blank with panic, desperation.

'WE'LL DO IT! WE'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! JUST TURN OFF THE COLLAR FOR FUCK'S SAKE!'

And finally... the crackling stopped. Followed by dreadful silence, highlighting the heavy breathing of both men and the putrid smell of burning flesh in the air.

'Punk...'

Punk's eyes found Drew's weakly fluttering back at him, pain-filled and weak. Ringed by the tiniest sliver of blue. 'It's ok, Drew, it's alright.'

'No... don't...'

Looking around him, Punk found the perfect spot and shuffled over to a large, flat rock. Slumping down to his knees, he bent over and lay atop the cold surface, lifting his hips up into the air.

Nothing happened. He looked back to find Drew where he left him, refusing to move.

'Come on Drew, it's alright. Just do as they say.' The Scot shook his head stubbornly. 'One little fuck isn't worth killing yourself over. Anyway, isn't this what you've wanted this whole time?'

'Not like this,' Drew choked out with a sob.

'If they kill one of us, they'll kill both of us,' Punk protested. 'The only chance we have of getting out of this is by sticking together.'

But still, Drew refused to move.

Punk sighed with defeat. Turning his face away, he placed his cheek against the cold rock and whispered, 'hit him with the pheromones again.'

From behind him, he could hear Drew call 'what did you just- urgh!' Then he held his breath and waited.

It didn't take long for Drew to crawl over, sniffing like a curious beast at Punk's rear. The tattooed man flinched when his loin cloth was ripped up, exposing his open cheeks and Drew mounted him from behind, his hairy chest and stomach rubbing up against his bare back. Two huge fists wrapped around Punk's skinny wrists and held them down, keeping Punk securely pinned on his front to the rock face as Drew rubbed his sopping wet and rock hard dick between Punk's glutes, prodding his head around until it lined up against his puckered hole.

Then rammed himself in. Punk choked on a cry of pain, a terrible burning at his rectum as he was stretched wide and entered. The beast on his back hooking himself into his body, breaking through the seal and into his guts, tearing him open.

No thoughts, only instinct.

And Punk closed his eyes and tried to fight the growing ache between his own legs and Drew's hands shackling his wrists tightly, and his warm breath grunting against his ear and his sweat falling onto Punk's back and pooling in that small hollow at the base of his spine and his huge dick ravishing him again and again.

But soon the blood and the pre-cum lubricated his passage, and Drew began to move easier and the thrusts became long and powerful and struck that perfect little sweet spot deep inside of him and Punk began to hear the crackles in his own skull and see the explosions of electricity behind his own eyelids and in an instant, he forgot the cage, the window, their plight and he became lost in the throes of the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. Opening his thighs up wider to entice Drew in even further, his lips fell open and he moaned, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth and dripping onto the stone beneath him.

Drew began to pump in harder, scrubbing Punk's naked chest against the jagged rock and Punk was so helpless, caught in the larger man's strong grip and he couldn't help but love his helplessness, being held down and bred like a bitch in heat, all while being watched, being observed. A thought bubbled to the surface of his consciousness, wondering if he too had been hit with some kind of pheromone to muddle his senses but it fell away again when Drew hit his bundle of nerves head-on with the blunt tip of his dick. His own cock was full to bursting and it was too much to bear and when he let out a strangled cry, Drew obliged him by letting go of his wrist and grabbing him between the legs, pumping his shaft with a taut grip, the pad of his thumb teasing his slit.

'Fascinating! We always wondered how two males of this species mated and now we know it's through the-'

Punk went blind and deaf and even the blaring static in his head was drowned out as warm cum seeped into him and out of him, sopping from his wrecked hole and between his swollen cheeks and down his ragged thighs onto the dirt below. Drew collapsed onto him, nuzzling his face into the hollow between Punk's shoulder blades and kissed his flushed skin tenderly. 'S'you ok?' was all Punk's numb lips could form. Drew answered with a throaty purr.

Later, the pair were up on the hay under the canopy, Punk firmly snuggled in Drew's arms, both of them fast asleep. But something stirred the tattooed man slightly from his slumber, a tinny voice echoing around his skull.

'-a success. But this is only phase one of our breeding programme. Tomorrow we'll prep the submissive male for surgery and move into phase two-'

[xxelleswrittingxx]

A Curious Predator Part 2

Warnings: non-con, avatar x fem!human smut

Part 1

Hours had passed and the eclipse moved overhead out of sight. Soft light emerged through the leaves and cast warmth onto your cooled skin, the heavy humidity finally hit its precipice to fall as a soft mist. It woke you from your heavy slumber and weighty limbs moved you to an upright position.

Neytiri had not slept a wink. The heat inside of her developed into an exciting buzz that kept her on her toes, waiting for any movement from you. Her mind ran through possible scenarios to come: you willingly giving in, being scared but still doing as she says or even fighting back. None of these worried her because she knew that no matter what, she would have you.

Her upright ears twitched forward to follow your new movements and a small grin made its way to her lips. You had awoken.

Memories of the evening before slammed back into your mind and you immediately started checking yourself and the surroundings for any danger. Things seemed to be clear and nothing had gotten you in your sleep. Relief washed through your tense body and plans for finding your way back to the team formed.

You emerged from your grove of tree roots to begin the long walk back to where the team first landed, or at least until you were back in range of the other com-calls. Soft chirps and the drizzle of rain became music to your ears during the trek. Unknown to you Neytiri followed above, her movements less graceful than they were before. Now they were more aggressive...crouching and crawling her way through the trees. The hormones surging through her body transformed her into a different being. Years of training lost, she forgot how to move unnoticed.

You could hear it above you. Something had found you and decided that you were it's next meal. The heavy thumping of your combat boots picked up alongside your heart rate. You changed your course and zig-zagged through large shrubs, under massive leaves, and over moss covered rocks.

The development of your leisurely pace to a slight jog had only excited her more. Senses amplified, Neytiri could smell you through the rain. She could feel your heartbeat pumping in her ears. Your fear in her stomach.

You halted to a stop. Where were you going? You know you could never outrun any of Pandora's wildlife, your only hope was to find your team but you strayed far from the path a long time ago. Y/E/C orbs scanned the surrounding area, searching for something unknown. Maybe the path back? But more likely, the thing that was following you.

A blue figure was crouching on a branch high above the ground across from you. A new fear dawned through your body, and it moved you before your brain could tell it to. Your feet fled in the opposite direction and all you could think about was getting away.

A frenzy had started.

Neytiri lept up and ran across the tree limbs before her. She quickly gained on you and eventually ahead of you to where she could drop down to the wet grass.

~

The rain beat down across your face and your feet slipped through mud, but that never stopped you. The giant Na'vi that dropped down in front of you did.

A scream ripped out of your throat and you fell back.

The alien before you crouched down and glared hard into your eyes. You had never met a real native before, so to suddenly have the unique being before you had left you shocked.

The powerful and lean limbs stretched on and on... distinct stripes painted across them. Big yellow cat eyes stared.

Fear still burned deep inside you.

You slowly started to crawl backwards... and the woman mirrored the movement to cawl after you.

"Please, I mean no harm!"

Neytiri tisked at the first words you spoke to her.

"I'm only trying to find my way back." Your voice wavered out.

"I do not care..." Was spit out in return. Her scrutinizing gaze burned all over you, taking in every detail that stood out to her.

Your mind raced with any possible way to get out of this situation, but it kept short-circuiting, once an idea popped up it ran blank with the fear and danger hovering in front of you. "I'll do anything! Just, please, don't hurt me!" Begging is the only thing making sense to your rushed mind right now.

"Hm, I know you will," Neytiri said with a blank look. She only cared about the burning heat between her thighs, and the delicious scent you put off, like the sweetest fruit Pandora had to offer mixed with fear and tears. She couldn't get enough of it.

And this is what brought her closer to you, her bow now taken off of her back and pointed down to your throat. The tip of it tilted your chin up, your view of the Na'vi was wavered with tears, but you couldn't ignore the beauty in front of you. She slowly leaned down over you.

"You will not move, or I will kill you. Understand?"

"Yes!"

This answer seemed to satisfy her, for she paused in thought, staring at you as if to read your expression and see if you were lying or not.

She threw her bow aside into the damp flora. She had decided to believe you, besides if you did try anything she knew that you were no match for her. So she watched your small body lay in the mud and tried to decide what to do with you.

Neytiri dropped to her hands and knees above you, a small 'rah!' slipped her lips, her aggression getting the best of her. You flinched at the sudden movement and sound, your reaction seemed to satisfy her. She dipped her nose down to your neck and sniffed hard, taking in your intoxicating scent. It soothed her, but at the same time made the fire burn hotter.

She sat up above your body and tried to figure out what to do with your annoying clothing, pulling the knife from her hip, she grabbed the front of your T-shirt and sliced the cotton.

You gasped at the brutal action, "W-what are you doing?"

"Removing your clothing." She ripped your bra next.

"Stop!" Your hands covered your chest, trying to save your modesty.

But Neytiri did not like this, "What did I tell you!" She hissed in your face and brought both of your wrists above your head with her one hand. "You are MINE." How could you not understand this? You were really starting to frustrate her...

Your shorts and underwear were next. She crawled down the length of your body and pried your legs apart, kneeling between them she took a deep breath in of your heat, "Wait! Not there!" your pleas fell on deaf ears and she delved into you, drinking in anything you had to give her. She had to have a taste of you before starting.

You couldn't believe it, the way it felt, you were supposed to be yelling but only moans escaped your throat. Your face burned in shame. Your hips bucked in pleasure. The hands held by her grasp escaped and tried to push her head away. Show growled into you and held them down by your sides.

Bold licks lapped through your folds. Neytiri slurped every juice up. She loved the sounds you made, especially the pleas to stop. They were amusing, you both knew she wouldn't, and that deep down you didn't want her to.

Your clit throbbed against the wet heat of her mouth and your walls tightened around nothing. 'No, no, no. Don't cum...' your thoughts screamed out, but your body would do what it wanted. And it did. Hard.

Your cum squirted into Neytiris' mouth and she swallowed everything. Your body thrashed under her hold, but it didn't budge her, if anything it spurred her on. Her mouth stayed attached until you went limp in the mud.

She stood up and started to undo her top, letting it drop, her bottoms followed next.

Your body shook with the aftermath of her. The sight of Neytiri undressing brought a new bolt of fear through your body and you turned over to crawl away. To nobody's shock, she grabbed your ankle and dragged you back over to her.

"Now, now little one, we are not done." She finally smiled during the interaction. Her large hands grasped you around your waist, and she laid back to bring you above her, your legs scissoring between hers. Your weight pressed your wet heat against her own and you both gasped out at the contact.

Finally, Neytiri was getting what she needed. Her large hands covered the expanse of your torso and she used them to guide your body. Rutting your hips down onto her own, she used you to pleasure herself.

You could feel her wetness seeping between your thighs, sticking you two together with her need. Wet squelches came from you both and you looked down at the blue woman, her eyes squeezed shut, jaw dropped and ears pointed back... God, she was beautiful. Unknown to yourself, your hips started to move on their own accord, your hands pressed down onto Neytiris' hard stomach.

It felt too good, you couldn't help it, you might as well give in...

NO! You were supposed to be scared, disgusted, and revolted. But your mind kept getting caught up in the sight below you. Her mound was glistening with slick, your's and her's mixed together, you kept getting a peek of it every time she brought your hips back and forward. Dark blue folds molded with your own... and you loved it.

Neytiri could feel her orgasm coming up on her quick. Her little toy felt so good against her, it was exactly what she needed. Little 'ah ah ah's were slipping from her mouth and she couldn't bring herself to care. The lean muscles of her body tensed tight and the pleasure bowed her back. With a low whine, Neytiri came long and intense under you,

You thought it was coming to an end as her rutting slowed down but it never stopped. Of course it wasn't over! She was in heat and this meant that she wasn't stopping until she was satisfied, and from previous experience, she wasn't done until she just about passed out.

Your clit started to throb again. It was coming back and you had to try to hold it off. To distract your mind you stared down at Neytiri's tits, Her small buds shook with every thrust and your mouth watered...

Fuck it.

You leaned forward and took one into your mouth. Neytiri let out a strangled moan and brought a large hand to your head to push you closer to her.

You sucked, nipped, and bit at her until they were swollen and raw. Yet, this still only distracted you for a little while. Your pussy was clenching hard, and before you could pull away from her chest your orgasm washed over you. Your face scrunched up in pleasure and you pulled the woman below you closer. Hips bucking hard against her own.

God this felt so fucking good.

Neytiri chuckled at the little human lying on top of her. So you finally gave in to her? It was faster than she had anticipated, but she wasn't going to complain. She loved to watch you hump yourself above her. Maybe she would have to keep you around. Her own little toy she could play with whenever she wanted.

~

AN: Omg this took forever to write, I'm so sorry to anybody that wanted the second part. Anyways hope you liked it! feedback is always appreciated :)

[lucca-strangee]

Oioi lucca,oq é plato?

Oioi, anon, farei uma explicação detalhada com todas as informações que sei sobre! :)

.

.

𝕆 𝕢𝕦𝕖 é "𝔼𝕗𝕖𝕚𝕥𝕠 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥ô"?

Platô é quando o seu peso fica estagnado, isso quer dizer que você não ganha nada (engorda), nem perde nada (emagrece).

Em dietas comuns para perda de peso as pessoas adotam uma rotina de exercícios e alimentação que faz com que a pessoa perca uns quilinhos inicialmente, mas a frequência da rotina faz com que o corpo se adpte a nova forma de estilo de vida, estagnando o peso.

O platô ocorre após uns 5-6 meses de restrição, mas costuma acontecer mais rápido com nós, pois nossa restrição costuma ser agressiva!

Veja bem, você faz uma dieta super restritiva, seja um longo NF ou intake baixo, acaba tendo um déficit agressivo de 1K de kcal, por exemplo. Você queima hoje, amanhã, depois, o que leva a um déficit calórico agressivo constante, então seguindo isso por um longo período o corpo para de queimar.

Como a ingestão de calorias é pouco ou nula, ele entra em alerta por achar que você está basicamente morrendo, em caso de NF ele não sabe quando será a próxima vez que você vai comer e para de queimar, quando voltar irá queimar o mínimo possível pra te manter vivo.

No caso de alta restrição vai estagnar e ele vai se adaptar àquele intake baixo, o metabolismo desacelera pra uma porra e quando você volta a queimar, você não queimar tanto.

No platô, mesmo com exercícios e dieta você não perde nenhuma grama e isso pode durar semanas!

.

▶ O que pode levar a entrar em platô ?

NF's longos;

Dietas altamente restritivas com longa duração;

Queimar tudo que consome.

-> Exemplo:

Ingerir 300 kcal e queimar as 300 kcal ou mais.

-> Explicação: Se você come 300 kcal e queima as 300 com exercícios, seu corpo fica sem o que contabilizar já que você queimou tudo, é como se você não tivesse comido, então o corpo vai reagir da mesma forma igualmente quando você faz um NF.

.

▶ Como faço pra sair do platô ?

Simples: dieta Zig-Zag!

A dieta Zig-Zag consiste em você não manter um intake fixo, mas alternar entre um intake alto e depois um baixo.

-> Exemplo:

Seg: 300 kcal

Ter: 700 kcal

Qua: 400 kcal

Qui: 900 kcal

Sex: 350 kcal

Sinceramente, eu meio que entendo porquê funciona, mas não sei explicar, então não me pergunte o porquê, apenas sei que funciona! KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

.

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▶ Considerações importantes:

Algumas pessoas entram em desespero por parar de queimar e entram em NF até sair do efeito platô.

Isso funciona? Capaz.

É recomendado? NÃO.

Se seu corpo para de queimar kcal por achar que você está MORRENDO, a última coisa que você deve fazer é ficar MAIS TEMPO sem comer.

Ele já vai tentar sobreviver com o mínimo, ou seja, desacelerando o metabolismo e queimando menos, então imagina como não fica com você fazendo NF?

Vocês acham que TMB de site tá certa com você fazendo NF de sei lá quantas horas?

Deixe-me vos dizer uma coisa: TMB é mutável!

Isso quer dizer que ela pode aumentar ou diminuir de acordo com seus hábitos alimentares e entrando em NF pós platô só vai fazer ela reduzir.

.

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Espero que tenham entendido, não sou bom com explicações!

Não tenham medo de comer mais pra sair do platô, ele não vai te engordar. Pode haver inchaço dependendo do seu corpo, mas pode não haver. Aliás, um moot meu, a Tai, já saiu do platô fazendo dieta Zig-Zag.

Segue o link pra quem tem dúvidas:

Beijinhos <3

[thoughtkick]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[user-abby]

• Dieta zig-zag •

A dieta zig-zag alterna dias de alta e baixa caloria, prevenindo platôs, mantendo o metabolismo ativo e preservando a massa muscular.

♡ Como funciona ♡

- A estrutura básica da dieta zig-zag envolve a criação de um plano semanal onde você alterna entre dias de alta e baixa ingestão calórica, combinando dias de manutenção calórica conforme necessário.

Dias de alta caloria: Você consome calorias acima do seu nível de manutenção (10-20% a mais).

Dias de baixa caloria: Você consome calorias abaixo do seu nível de manutenção (10-20% a menos).

Dias de manutenção: Você consome calorias no nível de manutenção.

-> Por exemplo se você consome 900kcal diárias:

- Dias de alta caloria: 900kcal + 10% = 990kcal diárias

- Dias de baixa caloria: 1000kcal - 10% = 810kcal diárias

- Dias de manutenção: 900kcal diárias

♡ Exemplo de plano semanal ♡

Segunda: Baixa caloria (ex: 810 kcal)

Terça: Alta caloria (ex: 990 kcal)

Quarta: Baixa caloria (ex: 810 kcal)

Quinta: Manutenção (ex: 900 kcal)

Sexta: Alta caloria (ex: 990 kcal)

Sábado: Baixa caloria (ex: 810 kcal)

Domingo: Manutenção (ex: 900 kcal)

-> Essa dieta é uma ótima opção para quem estiver em efeito platô, basta você ajustar conforme a sua meta de calorias diárias.

[nightlyquotes]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[perfectfeelings]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar