#electric personal care products

[personalcareexpo]

🌟 Explore the future of personal care trends! The Shanghai International Personal Care Expo is set to open from August 7th to 9th, 2024! 💫 Discover cutting-edge innovations and technologies in personal care from leading Chinese brands.

Don't miss out on skincare products, haircare products, oral care products, washing&cleaning products, beauty&health appliances, and more at this exhibition! 💆 Come visit, network with industry leaders, and embark on a new chapter in personal care! 🚀

[techtoio]

The Ultimate Guide to Eco-Tech: Sustainable Solutions for Everyday Life

Introduction

In our rapidly changing world, adopting eco-tech products and solutions becomes reasonably necessary to lead a sustainable life. Eco-tech products and practices are innovations that ensure lesser impact on the environment and bring sustainability to your doorstep. At TechtoIO, we strive to help you cut through the best possible eco-tech options that will make a difference in your everyday life. Let us look at how you could get those sustainable solutions into your life. Read to continue link

[reilandbeautyproducts]

Achieve Radiant Skin with Professional Facial Care Cosmetics and Personal Care Products

Our skin faces various challenges daily – from environmental pollutants to stress and aging. Professional facial care cosmetics are designed with advanced formulations that go beyond traditional skincare products. These products are developed by experts, often dermatologists or skincare specialists, who understand the science behind healthy skin. They offer tailored solutions to specific skin concerns, ensuring effective and safe results.

Cleansers and Exfoliants

The foundation of any skincare routine begins with a clean canvas. Professional cleansers and exfoliants work to gently remove impurities, excess oil, and dead skin cells. They come in various formulations, including gel, cream, and foam, suitable for different skin types. Exfoliants help reveal fresh, glowing skin by promoting cell turnover and reducing the appearance of fine lines and blemishes.

Serums and Treatments

Serums are concentrated formulations that deliver active ingredients deep into the skin. Whether you're targeting hyperpigmentation, wrinkles, or dehydration, professional serums are packed with potent ingredients like hyaluronic acid, retinol, and vitamin C. These products address specific concerns and provide noticeable results over time.

Masks and Treatments

Pamper your skin with luxurious masks and treatments that offer an extra boost of hydration and nourishment. Professional-grade masks can include clay masks for deep cleansing, sheet masks for intense hydration, and overnight masks for rejuvenation. Professional facial care cosmetics enhance the efficacy of your skincare routine, leaving your skin looking revitalized and radiant.

Moisturizers and Sun Protection

Hydration is key to maintaining healthy skin, regardless of your skin type. Professional moisturizers are formulated to provide long-lasting hydration without clogging pores. They may contain antioxidants and skin-soothing ingredients to protect against environmental stressors. Sun protection is a non-negotiable step in any skincare routine. Look for broad-spectrum SPF products that shield your skin from harmful UV rays and prevent premature aging.

Personal Care Products for Complete Well-Being

While professional facial care cosmetics focus on your skin's external health, Personal Care products in usa contribute to your overall well-being. These products extend beyond skincare and encompass items that promote self-care and mental wellness.

Bath and Body Care

Indulge in luxurious bath and body care products that cleanse, hydrate, and invigorate your skin. Body washes, scrubs, and lotions with soothing fragrances create a spa-like experience at home. Regular use not only enhances your skin's texture but also promotes relaxation and stress relief.

Hair Care

Healthy hair is an integral part of your overall appearance. Personal care extends to your hair with shampoos, conditioners, and styling products that cater to various hair types and concerns. Nourish your hair and maintain its natural shine with professional-grade hair care products.

Fragrances

Fragrances have the power to evoke emotions and boost your mood. Personal care with Personal Care products in usa also includes selecting the perfect scent that resonates with your personality. From light and floral to bold and woody, there's a fragrance for every preference.

[thedisablednaturalist]

Literally all the shit rich people have turned into luxuries are stuff many disabled people need (or would need to manage their pain but can't afford it)

Comfy ergonomic chairs

Indoor pool/hot tub (therapy bath)

Massages on the regular

Aides (rich people call them servants)

Yea even a cook who makes you special meals (perfect for people with special dietary needs and for those with severe allergies, as well as people who are in too much pain or are otherwise unable to cook)

Elevators in your house (even small ones just for groceries, my rich aunt has one in her beach house!)

Rich people don't buy these for fun I hope but custom powerchairs are obscenely expensive. It pisses me off when I see another person invent "the wheelchair of the future!" Which then is literally never fucking used because none of us can afford it (and insurance definitely won't pay)

Indoor gyms or even personal exercise equipment. Hard to go out to a gym somewhere else when you're disabled, especially if you are immunocompromised

Outdoor spaces to relax in. It's literally vital for your mental health to at least see the outdoors. I'd rather be bedridden in a sunroom (with retractable blinds) than a shitty apartment with one tiny window.

There's even freaking health retreats these people go to regularly. There's a fibromyalgia retreat in new york where they basically take care of all your needs while trying different treatments and seeing which ones help. Either it's heaven or making money off of scamming desperate people who are able to scrape the money together to go.

Private planes, which I honestly think shouldn't exist, but one that specifically catered to people with disabilities (spaces for wheelchairs/other mobility devices, accessible handicapped airplane bathroom, anxiety reducing tools, trained medical personnel and care team)

Also customized cars, except instead of making gas guzzling racecars to joyride in while everyone else is trying to get to work, cars with electric ramps, lifts, doors, cars customized for someone with limb differences. Those cars where you can roll your wheelchair right up to the wheel. Fuck even self driving cars once they are no longer deathtraps.

Skincare products that are safe for sensitive skin like eczema but also actually work

Nice-looking clothes customized to fit limb differences, access points, look good in wheelchairs, colostomy bags, etc. while also being comfortable and not fast fashion.

Dental care!!! What the fuck why is this shit so expensive!! I don't want my teeth to fall out!! (Disabled people usually need more dental care bc we have a harder time keeping up maintenance)

Rich people go and splurge on all of these even though they don't need them while calling disabled people selfish for begging their insurance for even one of these.

[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Healthy Habits To Look & Feel Your Best Without Restriction or Unrealistic Routines

Realistic ways to maintain a healthy life/body/appearance (size and weight are all personal, not the most important metric – for certain). No diet culture or delulu-land tips here.

What I've done to maintain my 30-pound weight loss for over a decade, glowing clear skin (no pimples or discoloration, etc.), and super healthy, full & shiny hair, still living life and enjoying it – the mindful way.

Eat home-cooked meals & (plant-based) whole foods – 90-95% of the time

Incorporate at least 1 salad into my daily routine (either a large, hearty lunch salad or a simple green salad as a starter with dinner)

Include at least 1 fruit/vegetable in every meal or snack

Never restrict food groups – whole grains/potatoes, healthy fats, protein-rich plant foods, and produce are all essential to consume every day

Focus on meals, but have whole food snack options on hand to enjoy if genuinely hungry (mainly fruit, lupini beans, edamame, carrots/celery/cucumber with hummus, plain popcorn, handful of almonds/cashews)

Have breakfast after one coffee (before a second) and have dinner late enough (8-9:30 pm) to curb late-night hunger

Only have fruit and tea after dinner; Always stop consuming food at least 3 hours before bed for better sleep/digestion

Order whatever I want when going out to eat, but split dessert

Have at least one indulgent meal/dessert per week

No sugary cocktails – wine, champagne/prosecco, martinis, gin & tonic, margarita, French Connection, Sambuca, Grappa, tequila on the rocks, etc. are great options. Bellinis/fruit plus wine/spirits cocktails are a good middle ground. Sugary drinks worsen the hangover – big-time

Perceive healthy eating as a form of enjoyment, creativity, and nourishment, not restriction or deprivation (it's not if done liberally enough)

Consume a vitamin B12 and vitamin D supplement daily. Keep digestive enzymes on hand for when they're necessary

Always have a large glass of water first thing in the morning (before coffee) and by my side all day long

No soda, juices, sugary drinks, etc. Black coffee, tea, and water only on the daily – wine and no-sugar alcoholic drinks on rare occasions. Smoothies can be a great snack or breakfast, though!

Incorporate an (almost) daily walk into my schedule as a form of exercise and a mental health reset (I aim for 4-5 miles/10Kish steps per day on average)

Do short, low-impact strengthen training exercises 3x a week (15-30 mins each usually) for bone health & toning

Never forcing myself to do strenuous exercise/workout formally in a gym – it's not for me; it doesn't make me feel/look better and throws my hunger & energy levels way off. To each their own, though

Have a variety of playlists ready to go for waking up, working, dancing, walking/workouts, doing chores, and reading/relaxing

Internalizing that sexual health is a core aspect of your health & well-being – on all counts

Maintaining a simple skincare routine 2x per week with high-quality products and a couple of weekly treatments

Prioritizing my body care routine with as much as my facial skincare routine

Wearing at least SPF 30 daily

Exfoliating 2-3x per week

Learning what hair products work for my hair type; Using a deep conditioning mask and a scalp mask weekly

Using only cold water when washing my hair

Incorporating face & body massages into my weekly at-home routine

Using Uriage lip balm, hand cream, and deodorant religiously

Flossing 1-2 times a day/using an electric toothbrush

[wovenintosilk]

Stubborn

Received a request through a reblog for something related to Miguel's fangs. It's not exactly focused on them but they're definitely part of it!

No Content Warnings

GN!Reader

Word Count: 1100

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

“Get your fingers away from my mouth. Are you a child?”

You pouted and withdrew your hand, thwarted in your attempts to sneakily lift the corner of your boyfriend’s lip. “I want to see them,” you defended. “They’re so nice to look.”

“If you’re that bored, I will find you something more productive to do,” he reminded you and twisted his face further from your reach. “I’m not in the habit of allowing people to lounge around my workspace for the fun of it.”

“Can my something productive be getting you to smile?”

“Absolutely not.”

You sighed and sank further into your chair, head tilted back to the ceiling you stared at far too much. “You said you would be finished with this by now.”

“It was a possibility but it required far more attention than I expected. It won’t be much longer.”

Miguel’s desire to be busy never surprised you. From the day you’d met him to the day you kissed him for the first time, you always understood why he obsessed in the way he did. It didn’t hurt you but you worried – more about his own health than anything else.

When was the last time he’d even eaten?

“You know, I actually do have a job to get done,” you said. “I’ll be back soon. Try not to get too big of a headache by scowling at that screen.”

“I know.”

The grumbled words didn’t help your concerns. You cast a glance over your shoulder in his direction. The harsh artificial lighting of his office highlighted how he hunched over his work, shone off his suit in a piercing way.

It really couldn’t be good for him to stand like that.

Your first stop took you over an hour to reach and you still didn’t doubt for one second that Miguel would still be working on your return. Though he cared little about food quality lately, you insisted on getting him something healthy and what you knew he would enjoy.

If it took you ages to find, you didn’t mind too much. You knew it wouldn’t impact on your plans going forward.

Around the side of Miguel’s office, a few wires connected just behind a broken section of the wall. You had to hold your breath to squeeze half into it in order to reach them.

“This is a very bad idea.”

You jumped, hit your head against the wall in your startle, and groaned in the unexpected pain. Lyla watched with a humoured smirk from where she’d appeared, projected out of your personal watch.

“It’ll be fine,” you said. “He won’t even know it was me.”

“He will,” she corrected. “But that’s not what I’m worried about. I know you can handle Miguel yourself but I think you shouldn’t play with electricity.”

“When you asked me to get him to take a break, you should have known I’d need to resort to some extreme measures.”

She sighed and waved a hand for you to continue. You squeezed your way further in so you could reach the wire that fed his office and a few of the surrounding halls. Hobie showed you it wouldn’t turn off the rest of the complex when he did it last time as a joke.

“I’ve already backed up everything he’s working on. If he throws you out, I take no responsibility for it.”

You grinned cut the wire. Everything plummeted into darkness around you, computers shut off loudly and the ever-present hum stopped. You grinned proudly and dropped your cutter back into its space before you headed to the office.

You realised one of the main problems when you walked through the doors and spotted him on his platform. The one that wouldn’t move now without electricity.

“Wow,” you said loudly. “Can you believe the timing of this?”

He turned slowly. The silence stretched thickly between you, your smile a match for his glare. Lyla was right, he knew exactly what had happened.

“Either you have to come down here or find a way to get me up there,” you called. “Because I can’t reach you otherwise.”

You held up the food right as a bright web attached to your chest. It pulled you forward and lifted you into the air as though you weighed nothing. It might not be the first time it had happened to you but you’d never really get used to the sensation of being dragged around.

He steadied you when you landed, his hand rested on your arm until you gained your balance back. His lip curled up ever so slightly as he waited.

“I brought food,” you said and sat down in your chair.

“What did you do?”

“Went a ridiculous distance to get this for you,” you noted. “Do you know how far this place is? And then I got back and the power disappeared. Had to walk here in the dark.”

“Do you know how busy I was? How much you may have gotten lost?”

“I’m sure Lyla managed to get it saved. You can take a break while she finds the fault.”

He loomed above you, leaned down and opened his mouth ever so slightly. Finally, you had an opportunity to see those massive fangs you loved so much. You loved his habit of using them to intimidate. He didn’t even do it purposefully.

“You can’t really be blaming me for the electricity,” you said.

“I’m not stupid.”

You finally placed the packet of food aside, reached up and grabbed the front of his suit so you could pull him closer. You used your free hand to cup his jaw, ran your thumb over his bottom lip. Those fangs really were beautiful. What you’d give to have them showing more often…

“I need you to take a break,” you said. “It might take a while to fix. You may as well give your body a small rest, okay?”

Before you let him go, you pressed a small kiss to the underside of his jaw. He leaned into the touch just enough to let you know you’d been somewhat forgiven for your meddling.

He took the food from you, muttered something about stubbornness, and listened as you spoke about everything you’d been waiting to tell him.

[evangelinesbible]

YOUR 4H AND YOUR FUTURE SPOUSES CAREER(S)

Derivative astrology timeee

7H = Spouse/ Marriage

10H = Career

10 houses away from the 7H is the 4H

SUN/LEO

Your FS will probably be someone who is quite popular or even famous in their career field. They’re probably a very creative person as well. They might potentially be any type of entertainer so, singer, actor, comedian or dancer. They might also have a job that involves children’s entertainment.

MOON/CANCER

Your FS might be a realtor or someone who builds/ flips homes for a living. They might have their own brand/ business that sells self care products. They might also be very creative and artistic so a painter, poet, or singer is very possible as well. They also might be some sort of nurse, teacher, or social worker for children.

MERCURY/ VIRGO/ GEMINI

Your FS might be a writer, journalist, public speaker or teacher. Their career field involves education and/or the mind. Your FS might also be some sort of influencer or their career involves social media. (Specifically for Gemini) Your FS might be some sort of vet, doctor farmer, trainer or life coach. (Specifically for Virgo)

VENUS/ TAURUS/ LIBRA

Your FS might be someone who is very invested in the fashion, art and music world. Specifically for Taurus they might be a singer, interior designer, chef, model, or someone who works with nature. Specifically for Libra they might also be a model, politician, lawyer, couples therapist, or a party/ event planner.

MARS/ARIES

Your FS might be into the athletic field. They themselves might be an athlete or coach a team. They might also be a personal trainer. They might have an independent brand, label or business. They’ll most likely have a job that involves leadership so directing or being a CEO.

JUPITER/SAGITTARIUS

Your FS might be someone who could do any career and they’d be successful at it. Specifically, they might be the most successful in a career that involves traveling and exploring the world. They might be a professional traveler, tour guide, flight attendant, pilot, or professor who teaches abroad

SATURN/ CAPRICORN

Your FS might be into business and marketing. They are most likely into the more corporate side of business and heavily invested in investments and stocks. They might also be some sort of doctor. They also might be apart of a management company or they manage a bunch of people themselves.

URANUS/ AQUARIUS

Your FS might be into all things science and electricity, they might also be a social media influencer as well. They might be some sort of scientist, engineer, electrician, or neurologist. They might have some sort of online business or their career in loves being online. So maybe a YouTuber or Streamer.

NEPTUNE/ PISCES

Your FS might have a career that involves glamor and spirituality. They might va more flexible and laid back job. They might be an actor, musican, producer or singer. They might be into tarot, reading palms, astrology, and they might teach all of these things as well. They might also be into film and photography.

PLUTO/ SCORPIO

Your FS may have a career that is secretive, private or invades their privacy. They might be in a career field that involves research, physiology, investigation, or witchcraft. They might be in a position of power as well so some sort of CEO or business person who is really good at investing. They also might be into the police force, military, or banking.

What’s yours? Mines Scorpio 4H with Pluto/ Moon Sagittarius. 4H ruler being 4H Sagittarius Pluto/ 9H Taurus Mars.💋

-⚜️💫⚜️

[pinkpigtailsprincess]

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ Dollies 63 Days of Summer Glow up!! Day 1 > Prep 🎀☀️🐬

Hii Dolls!! 🎀 Welcome 2 my newest series of my 2 month long summer glow up process its pretty self explanatory but im gonna be documenting my 2 month long summer glow up process 2 just be a better me!! enjoy!! ☀️

DISCLAIMER!! ; i will censoring and dancing around certain topics just bc ik they can be triggering to some folk that have issues so cw; vauge mentions of w3!ght!! 💗

Stage 1 : Health! ☀️

It always important to keep up with ur health obvii 2 maintain good balance in life! ☀️

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Diet!! 🍏

Now diet wise i already do have a pretty balanced and healthy diet to begin with so i won’t have to that much work on my diet but i definitely wanna make small improvements!!🎀

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Diet Goals!! 🍋

incorporate different from my usual ones fruits!!

expand my palate (chronic picky eater)

making more meals that are still healthy & tasty but not repetitive!!

not skipping my meals!!

cutting out all meats except fish!!

push myself to like cucumbers

get back into drinking more fruit water!!

stop eating so much cheese!

knowing my limit when eating!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Exercise !! 🧘‍♀️

Doing more exercise is definitely a huge one for me because there was a point where i did it daily but then i stopped bc i feel into a rut but then i started again but only once a month so im trying to get back into daily exercise!!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Fitness Goals!! 🧘‍♀️

workout more than once a month!

do more yoga + cardio + home pilates

use exercise to make me healthier & happier

lose w*ight i won’t disclose how much i want to loose and how much i wanna be bc that’s personal 2 me !!

feeling comfortable in my body + build discipline

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Oral Health !! 🪥

I Will say i did recently update my oral hygiene routine bc i got braces so now i have to do more work but i definitely wanna still add things to it!!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Oral Health Goals !! 🦷

consistently floss in the morning as well as night

buy a tongue scraper

get an electric toothbrush

start oil pulling

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Mental Health !! ☀️

I Sooo wanna improve some thing in my mental health bc obviously its super important to not only take care of my physical health but my mental health!! 🎀

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Mental Health Goals !! 🧁

get back into journaling

get back into meditation

step out of my comfort zone

build more confidence in social settings!

replace most phone time with reading time

spend more time outside

prioritizing rest more

not being to hard on myself

celebrating all my wins and accomplishments no matter how big or small!

Stage2 ೀ⋆ : Hygiene!

I Already have a pretty solid skincare routine to begin with but honestly i just wanna improve to it and add more to it ! 🎀

Skincare ୭₊˚ ! 🎀

For my Skincare routine i already have my products and my basics but honestly i wanna stater using different products to better help my skin!!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Skincare Goals ! ⭐️

ice rolling

gua-sha

jade rolling

bi weekly dermaplaing

weekly face mask

facial steaming

facial cleansing brush

use more Korean & Japanese products (Japanese products are literally the best)

Body-care ୭₊˚ ⭐️

Another section where i wanna make improvement i already exfoliate,hair removal sometimes and i use my antibacterial soap and my body washes but theres a bunch of things i wanna incorporate!! 💗

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Bodycare Goals ! 🐬

start dry brushing

exfoliate weekly

shave or epilating more often (my own choice bc honestly i don’t like the feeling of body hair

use my glycolic acid more routinely

buy more sweet smelling body products

find a signature scent

use body oil + body butter + body glitter

using an African exfoliating net instead of a rag

Haircare ୭₊˚ ! 💗

For my Hair care i definitely wanna make room for improvement i mainly detangle every day with just some water or style depending on if i need/want to or not and i oil my scalp!!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Haircare Goals ! 🐬

Grow it out more with the Help of Indian Amla Oil (some said it stinks but if it helps)

Learn More Hair Styles

Use Rice Water

castor oil

Scalp Massage More Often

Hair Masque Bi-Weekly

Trim Split Ends

Deep Conditioning On a Wash Day

Nailcare ! ୭₊˚ ⭐️

use more cuticle oil

professional manipedis bi weekly!

soak my feet with foot salts more

develop my own at home nail care routine

Facials!!🎀

buy new daily vitamins!!

keep my hair professionally done!!

use my primuce stone more

buy more lipgloss + vaseline lip care

Stage 3 ೀ⋆ Makeup + Jewelry + Fashion + Perfumes 🛍️ !!

I wanna learn how to do my makeup again so badly! and this time i have more tips so i can actually learn how to do it properly!! 🫧

Makeup Goals ୭₊˚ !

find the perfect soft glam dolly makeup

perfect my eyebrows

learn to glue down lashes

make the perfect base

learn to bronze and contour correctly

perfect the highlighter placement

get the perfect sun kissed summer doll makeup

again buy more lipgloss

Jewelry Goals ୭₊˚ ! ⭐️

i desperately have been needing new jewelry and for the longest and ive stupidly been wearing silver knowing i like gold better

buy bangels

get gold hoops

get a new nameplate

get more necklaces

get more rings

get anklets !!

Fashion Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

actually dress in clothes i genuinely like

dress for my body type

not toning down my dressing for random people

build confidence in my outfits

start sewing some of my outfits bc i can

make crochet pieces for the beach

buy tons of cute clothes!!

make more inspo boards !!

Stage 4 ; Posture,Eloquence + Mannerism + Photogenic 🎀🍰

Definitely a Big one for me i wanna fix my posture and definitely speak up more in public bc im a little shy 🙈🎀!

Posture Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🫧

fix my back posture

learn to again regulate my nervous sustem and relax my shoulders

be more fluid in my movements!!

walking with my head up

Eloquence Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛁

speaking louder in public so people can actually hear me

speaking clearly with confidence

controlling my facial expressions more

smiling more!! 😁

Mannerism Goals + Body Language ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

I tend to tone down my natrual mannerisms ALOT when im out in public and honestly im tried of not being my true self in public and i let the opinions of those around me influence me into toning it down

be more animated as i am at home in public

walk the way i want to!!

practice princess mannerisms with my own little spin🤭

walk around like a princess bc im literally a princess

Extra Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

be more photogenic

learn how to pose

be more videogenic

walk around like i won the place (4 the confidence esque of it

Stage 5: Mindset!!🎀⭐️

The Final Stage!!🎀: where ill be implementing so mindsets of some my favs and learn how to express myself in my environment bc honestly it sucks not being able to be myself around my family ⭐️

Mindset Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🐬

knowing my worth

not letting outside opinions dictate my life

unapologetically being myself around my family

reminding my self that people opinions don’t matter

always have a one track mind with all my goals!!

again not being too hard on myself!

Thank you all so much 4 reading i can’t wait till start documenting my journey with you guys!!🎀⭐️ XO,Dolly!!

[losing-it-lately]

Night Shift

wc: 0.8k

steve harrington x reader

angst, up for a pt 2 but i need motivation. inspired by night shift by lucy dacus

Shifts at Family Video are usually long and boring, but now they're long and desolate; workdays become shift long reminders that Steve doesn't want you, not as a girlfriend, not as a friend and definitely not as a shift partner. How were you so deluded that you created months worth of ‘signs’ that he ‘liked’ you, when he probably didn't even actually like you as a person. Dustin always jokes about how Robin ‘so easily turned him down’, but Robin and Steve are still friends, best friends in fact, yet Steve didn't want to give you that courtesy.

Hell, he's still amiable with Nancy Wheeler who ripped his heart to shreds, but you? No, he just has to ignore you and change all of his shifts to closing ones or the really early morning ones that you would never think of signing up to. How does he even know which shifts you would never take and why does Keith keep giving him them? It's sick how quickly your loneliness spirals into faux fury; you weren't mad at Steve, instead you were mad at yourself and how it all fell to shit so quickly.

It was a party, and you were a little bit tipsy, and he looked so beautiful. You didn't even know Steve would be here, originally just turning up to have a fun night with your girls, but here he was. His beautiful brown eyes were wide eyed in the darkness of the random basement of the house party, and he was wearing a soft burgundy sweater; must've been a new sweater, because you definitely would have noticed him wearing that in one of your shared shifts. It was tight and seemed soft to the touch, but even softer was his hair. The product in it looked shiny and even so much as a gentle nod from Steve was enough to tousle his hair. He was taking your breath away.

Steve was distracting, too distracting and his constant gaze at the back of your head was taking your mind off of other things, like how many shots you had had and how late it was.

You were getting tired, and Steve could tell. He had only come tonight to see you, and see you he did; all your laughter and unabashed joy from your proximity to your friends was electric, even if he wasn't a part of it. But now it was late and you were quieter, so he made his way to your friends and asked if it was ok for him to return you home. Steve’s kind and normally, a guy doing this would raise all kinds of red flags, but after your countless ramblings and short introductions of Steve to your group, they knew how much you trusted him, and how much you cared about him. So your designated driver became Steve, and as he led you back to his car, a new kind of confidence began collecting in the pit of your stomach.

He brought you to the front seat and buckled you in, despite the lack of any clear ‘drunkenness’. You were just a little bit tipsy and a little bit ready to do things that you would only dream of doing. You fiddled with Steve's radio as if you frequented his car and you told him how beautiful he looked after you muttered your address, and when he finally stopped the car in front of your place, you offered for him to come inside.

Steve exited the car and came all the way around to your door. He opened the car door and let the light from the street lights filter onto your face; it created a small halo around his hair, and you were mesmerised. You could feel the soft burgundy cashmere under your fingertips after you placed your hands on his shoulders, as if you were bracing yourself before he unbuckled the seat belt. And as Steve gently places the seatbelt back, you felt something change in between you; your eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, before one of you finally leaned in.

His lips were soft and they tasted like sobriety and the minty chapstick he prided himself on using. His sweater was warm underneath your fingers and Steve's chest was flush against yours as his hands rushed up and cradled your jaw. You kissed quick and strong and then he pulled away, “you're not sober.”

His eyes were suddenly filled with something harsh and hurt and hellish. “We can't do this. You don't want this,” his voice was quiet but his disapproval was loud. You felt exposed and awkward and stunted. What felt like paradise was brutally taken away so quickly. He escorted you to your doorstep in silence and then watched you return home with misery on your face.

Steve and you had kissed, and then you had stopped, and now, he wouldn't even see you.

[theambitiouswoman]

Hormone disrupters are chemicals 🧪 that interfere with your body’s endocrine system, which regulates hormones. They can be found in a lot of every day products like:

Plastic bottles and food containers

Pesticides in agriculture

Cleaning supplies

Chemicals used for clothing

Personal care products like lotions, shampoos & makeup

❌ These are hormone disrupters found in common every day products that you should stay away from ❌

- Bisphenol A (BPA) (plastics and can liners)

- Phthalates (personal care products, fragrances, flexible plastics)

- Parabens (makeup & personal care products)

- Triclosan (antibacterial soaps and cleaning products)

- Polychlorinated Biphenyls (older electrical equipment and industrial products)

- Flame Retardants (furniture, textiles, electronics)

- Pesticides (agriculture)

- Perfluorinated Chemicals (stain resistant treatments, non-stick cookware)

- Dioxins (industrial processes, combustion byproducts)

- Lead (older paints, pipes)

- Dye chemicals (textiles and clothing)

- Water repellents (outdoor clothing, upholstery)

- Stain repellents (carpets, fabrics)

- Formaldehyde (wrinkle free and anti-shrink treatments for fabric)

- Mercury (fish, some thermometers, dental amalgams)

- Cadmium (batteries, some fertilizers)

- Atrazine (herbicides)

- Glyphosate (weed killers)

- Perchlorate (rocket fuel, fireworks, fertilizers)

- Arsenic (contaminated water, pesticides)

- Styrene (plastics, rubber, insulation materials)

- Phosphates (detergents, fertilizers)

- Nonylphenol ethoxylates (industrial detergents, cleaners)

- Organotins (PVC plastics, marine antifouling paints)

- Benzophenone (sunscreens, plastics)

- Octinoxate (sunscreens, makeup)

- 4 Methylbenzylidene camphor (sunscreens, makeup)

‼️ Exposure to these can lead to health issues like reproductive problems, developmental issues and cancer.

🌿 Needless to say, that in order to protect our hormones 🫶 it’s important to recognize these risks and take measures to reduce our exposure them.

[simply-ivanka]

Why Do the Young Vote Left?

Socialist teachers lead them to think of government as a free-money tree.

It’s the gifts. The progressive vibe is that big government will take care of you. It knows what’s best for you. It will redistribute money how it pleases. You need to put a smile on your face while it takes away your laurels, guns and money. “We believe in the collective,” Ms. Harris declared, much like Hillary Clinton’s “it takes a village.” Equity in Schenectady. Handouts for all.

You want proof? Ms. Harris’s Senate voting record is leftward of socialist Bernie Sanders. Vice-presidential candidate Tim Walz fawns over China, saying “everyone is the same and everyone shares.” Viva la revolución and Che Guevara T-shirts for all.

This is antifreedom. Too many of today’s youth fall in line with progressives because they’re undereducated and overindoctrinated with someone else’s agenda. I watched in horror as local high-school biology classes spent weeks on the science of recycling centers and only a short afternoon on mitochondria and mitosis. Profit is a bad word. It’s gimme, gimme, whether it’s student loan forgiveness, free healthcare or tax credits.

Who’s to blame? Misguided capitalism-hating social-studies teachers to start, with Tim Walzian thinking: “One person’s socialism is another person’s neighborliness.” Who is he, Mr. Rogers? Add like-minded college professors. Work ethic and ambition are evaporating.

Worse, Pew Research notes almost a third of currently childless 18- to 34-year-olds aren’t sure if they ever want children. Why? The Harris campaign’s “climate engagement director,” Camila Thorndike, is among the hesitant, telling the Washington Post, “I want to protect them from suffering.” Perpetually pessimistic progressive prognostications induce fear. No wonder U.S. fertility rates are at historic lows.

OK, I know I’m asking for trouble. Every time I write about youth, I get a chorus of comments and tweets telling me I’m an old man screaming, “Hey you kids, get off my lawn.” Yeah, yeah. Very clever. I’m not that old. But in the Kamala collective—as California attempted—private “ornamental” lawns are out, and drought-resistant vegetation is in. Progressives literally want you off your own lawn.

My conversations with young folks who do exhibit some actual drive show their confusion: “I want to do a startup.” Great! To do what? “A sustainable something or other. To save the planet.” OK, is it productive? “What’s that?” Does it scale? “Huh?” Will it do more with less? “Not really, it needs lots of money to keep going and save more of the world.” Sounds like a nonprofit. (That usually invokes a smile.) Actually, wealth comes from delivering ever-cheaper stuff to millions of people, not handouts. “I don’t care about money.”

OK, I say, but progress and societal wealth happen when you delight customers and postpone consumption to reinvest profits into better products. The looks on their faces are as if I’m describing Chinese arithmetic.

Our youth aren’t lazy but lost. Progressives have strong opinions about society but no viable solution beyond handing out other people’s money—taken from the few who actually are productive, drive progress and generate wealth by fulfilling customer needs. It’s a downward spiral: When progressives tax—screaming “fair share!”—they cripple the productive few who actually create the real non-burger-flipping, get-out-of-your-parent’s-basement jobs.

To aggressive progressives, government is simply a magic money tree. Vote left and dollars appear. The gross incompetence of government—think billions for eight electric vehicle chargers—destroyed healthcare (thank you, ObamaCare) and education (assisted by Randi Weingarten’s teachers union) and is close to destroying energy (net zero), even while the Biden-Harris administration works hard to destroy Big Tech—one of the few productive industries. And I’ll never forgive progressive Hollywood for turning “Star Wars” into unwatchable wokey Wookiee drivel.

What industries will be left standing? Who cares, because the dreamy types think generative artificial intelligence will kill all jobs and government will provide universal basic income so they can Zyn, TikTok and play College Football 25 videogames all day. A naive youthful triumphalism.

This is a false endgame. There is so much more to be invented: drugs, immunotherapy, fusion, self-folding clothes, humanoid robotics, flying cars. Hard brain work plus quality recharging leisure time is the goal, not a nation of welfare queens.

I feel sorry for the youth that do care, do work hard, are productive and help push the boulder of progress up that steep slope, while essentially carrying all the others on their backs. It’s you against the collective, the village, which is always about being supported, pampered, living off someone else’s hard work and then complaining that the handouts aren’t big enough. So, yeah, get off my lawn, while lawns are still allowed.

[fuck-customers]

today, mar 25 2024, a woman came into my red hardware store and dumped her bag of returns on my counter. she said "i have a fucking return. it's all coming the fuck back. i don't need any of this fucking stuff" and i was instantly on edge because she's being loud and every other word was another f-bomb. and i GET IT i get swearing, i get being angry, but why the hell are you upset with me lol i looked at the pile of stuff and was like "oh did you buy this yesterday?" because i recognized the pile of items as things that i had personally rung up at some point. it's a bunch of electrical stuff like outlet covers and some solenoids or wtv. but god i shouldn't've said anything. because she snaps "No what the fuck. i bought this fucking weeks ago. and i dont fucking need it. so i'm returning it"

and i'm like.. damn ok, fine. she's digging for receipts. and has a huge stack of Orange Hardware store receipts. and i'm watching her flip through them and she snaps "go ahead and grab yours if you recognize it!" and i'm like 'uh.. ok i'm pretty sure that my store's receipt is this one' and i pointed at one (idk if its just the font but i recognized my store's receipt and yoinked it out.

so i start processing her return. she's like "ugh i need to go get my card from the car!" and i'm like ok, that's fine. she doesn't really need it for the return but 1) i want her to get away from me because i'm gonna call a manager she's being such an asshole. 2) her friend was looking for other stuff to buy.

she comes back in with her card. i'm like scanning and returning the items. 3 items i KNOW are NOT ours are on the pile. im like.. i don't want to deal with her trying to insist that they belong to our store. but i scan one. it beeps 'item not found' i go 'oh well these items aren't from our store, sorry i can't return them"

and she's like "i dont see how that's fucking possible! everything in that bag is from this fucking store!" and she's just absolutely shrieking. and i don't understand why she's mad, like i don't get it. the manager came up and was like 'we don't sell this product. sorry we can't do a return on it.'

she screams some more but accepts that they must be Orange Hardware and not Red Hardware. She goes out to "make a call while her friend shops"

and i swear to god that she was screaming at someone on the phone for next fourteen minutes and everyone inside the store could hear her from the parking lot. every other word out of this woman's mouth was "fuck" and it was setting my nerves on edge.

her friend finally came up to buy his shit. and it totals $77. she's standing at the door handing him her visa and she is PISSED that the total is $77. she says she doesn't understand how it could add up to that much. and im like uhmmmm.. they're plumping parts.. and the stupid toys you're buying for your grandkids pushed the total to $77 after tax.. either buy it or leave. i don't care

she ended up buying it but you could still hear her swearing up and down the parking lot as she was screaming on the phone with her mother (apparently) saying that she was going to need to be reimbursed for the shit she was buying

and i'm just like... goddamn, i dont care how awful your day is. don't take it out on employees or customers you asshat.

the only funny part about this is the fact that her name was actually Karen. which just made me laugh. but all the other staff had come up to the front to make sure i was okay while she was yelling. and she did get intimidated by some of the men and slink out while her friend paid for the stuff. but still.. a big yikes.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[wazzappp]

WERE DOING SPECBIO STUFF AGAIN BABY. Feels fucking good to get back to my roots (i get to close 50 tabs worth of research now. Delightful)

Terminators are made of a Titanium Alloy (Im going with ferrotitanium which is a mix of iron and titanium. They never specify in the movie what the titanium is mixed with so fuck it we ball baby)) skeleton contains limited amounts of Mimetic Polyalloy (fake material used for the terminator in terminator two). Mimetic polyalloy can be hard or flexible and will be used to create new structures that the iron collected from food will later fully establish. This will allow his metal endoskeleton to mimic standard growth that a regular skeleton would have growing up.

When first introduced to the foster system (medical checkups are required once entering the foster system. The police probably do some checkups on Robbie also just to make sure hes okay when they find him), medical tests show that he has anemia, so it’s  recommended he be put on iron supplements. My reasoning is any iron in his blood is almost instantly sent to work on growing his endoskeleton. That means the actual amount of iron left in his blood is pretty low (the opposite of this is hemochromatosis which is when there's too much iron in your blood). I could see him probably trying to stop iron supplements but I think there would be some side effects to convince him to start taking them again. His joints might ache or I could see child terminator Robbie saying some mildly concerning shit like ‘my bones feel hungry’. I also think he might crave foods that are high in iron. Like beef/chicken liver, canned tuna, and seafood. Idk how frequently he could AFFORD these things but yk. The endoskeleton hungers eternal  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Nanobots are used to repair wiring for his nervous system, synthetic muscular system, acts as his immune system and sometimes accelerates healing for his organic systems (organic parts of his muscular system, skin, and nerves). For the most part his organic systems heal on their own at about the same pace as a normal human person. Nanomachines/nanoparticles are fueled by glucose (if Robbie needs work done by the nanobots he might need to eat or crave sugar both before and afterwards). 

He probably has a fairly (?) normal digestive system and circulatory system. The spread of his circulatory system is just more limited because some parts of him don't really need blood. . The primary job of the nanomachines when they aren't busy healing or growing his body is to harvest as much heme iron from the food/supplements he consumes as possible so that it can be repurposed later. His immune system is taken care of by the nanobots so all he has to worry about is red blood cell and plasma production. Similar to adults, most of this takes place in his spine, ribs, skull and breastbone. The red bone marrow is stored inside these metal parts and the red blood cells are then released into his bloodstream. Plasma is created in the liver and also in bone marrow so most of that stays the same

Another fun bit about the endoskeleton:

Bones close to his skin that are in danger of being exposed (knuckles, kneecaps, cheekbones) have a very thin enamel coating to preserve the illusion that they are bones. But underneath it’s all just the same Ferrotitanium.

onto the muscular system

Muscles are laced with a Shape Memory Alloy called Nitinol. A flexible (SURPRISINGLY durable godamn) metal material made of nickel and titanium that reacts to electrical and thermal impulses. It’s already used in the medical field (I can not fucking BELIVE that this is real thats so so so SO fucking cool). Superficial muscles are more organic (80% muscle 20% nitinol) but as the muscles go deeper they become more and more synthetic (20% muscle 40% nitinol 40% titanium wiring for durability). Superficial muscles are more muscle for stealth purposes. If injuries go deeper than anticipated he will still be able to fly mostly under the radar, assuming no wires have been significantly dislodged. If he’s been injured into the deeper layers then there’s no use in trying to lay low anymore. He’s clearly in a combat situation and stealth protocols no longer matter.

ALSO I did some math to try and figure out how heavy Robbie would be with all this metal in his system. Heres the logic for my equation:

CONTENT WARNING. MATH.

About 12 - 15% of your body mass is bone. A person weighing 155 lbs will have about 22lbs of bones. One Cubic centimeter of bones will weigh about 1.85 grams.

Ferrotitanium alloy is 4.5 grams per cubic centimeter. 

The equation 1.85/4.5 = 22/x in which x is his new bodyweight. Multiply 1.85 by 2.43 to get 4.5. Because the equation must be symmetrical you then multiply 22 by 2.43 to get 53.5 lbs.

With all of the extra metal in his system, I think it would be reasonable to assume that he LOOKS like he should be about 155 lbs but his actual weight is around 250 lbs. I have. NO idea how doctors are going to deal with this.

Had some VERY FUN hypotheticals from @moosemonstrous (thank you for proofreading my insanity once again <3) about his body shedding as much water as possible and like. shriveling his organs to drop as much weight as possible before doctors appointments. But given that he is a cyborg and not an android I do think that might kill him so Im thinking??? Maybe people just assume the scale is broken.... every single time he's in.

IDK man if they have access to his wack ass file then his breaking the conservation of mass is the least weird thing in there.

OKAY YAYYYYY NOW THAT I HAVE HIS INTERWORKINGS LAID OUT I CAN DO FUN CYBORG GORE!!!!! <33

[infrequent-creator]

A Little Assistance ~

Summary - Vox needs a little help so he calls his assistant up to take care of his need.

A/N: I don't believe vox's assistant has a name so I'm gonna have Vox call him the name "Sharkbait" 🤭((Also Cutie, Baby boy & various other teasy nicknames))

<3

"Ah- fucking shit! Owowowow!" Vox cursed under his breath. He has spilled coffee on the floor around his chair on the wiring that surrounded his seats.

While they weren't parts of his body, he still was connected to them, like the roots on a tree. So when things happened to them like being stepped on or burned with hot coffee, it does hurt him a bit. He sighed looking around somewhat urgently for something to wipe up the now cooled sticky liquid off his attachment cords.

Nothing... damnit.

He signed, pinching the bridge of where his nose would be. He looked down at his wrist, pressing a button.

Ring...Ring...Ri-

"H-Hello.. Mr. Vox, S-Sir, do you need me?" The face of his personal assistant Sharkbait popping up on the small screen. Stammering like always. Always looking a little flustered in a way that Vox couldn't help but find adorable. He cleared his throat from the distracting thought.

"Yes of course. Why else would I call you?"

"O-Oh I'm sorry S-Sir I didn't mean--" the shark stammered out an apology before Vox cut him off.

"Stop, I don't have all day. Bring some papertowels and warm water to my production room. A cup of coffee spilled on my wiring." He brushed off the lad's apology, trying to get this icky feeling off his wiring fast.

"R-Right! Yes sir!" With that, Vox hung up. He sighed again.

~

A minute or so passes before there's a knock at Vox's door. He waves his hand, an electric current hitting the door 's button panel, causing it to slide open for his guest. There he was. Sharkbait carrying a cloth & a small bucket with water. His feet moving quickly as his king tail swished behind him.

"Bout time you showed up, I'm sticky as hell over here." The overlord groaned as the annoying feeling on his cables. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"R-Right, yes Sir, I'm so sorry." He nodded quickly, kneeling beside Vox's chair. He dipped the cloth in the water a little, squeezing it to get the extra water out, then began making quick work of the dark brown coffee stains.

Vox could feel his touches just a little, they felt faint but it almost felt good. Like getting a head massage almost. Vox leaned back in a sigh, his back resting completely against the chair as he relaxed. His light blue claws tapping, gently and rhythmically as the cleaning continued.

After a moment, Vox noticed something thumping gently against his leg. Also some quiet mumbling from Sharkbait. The TV man opened his eyes to see Sharkbait's tail was the thing gently hitting Vox's leg like a happy dog. The sharkboy's were locked on the floor as he mumbled to himself.

"Now, tell me Sharkbait, what are you mumbling about? Are you perhaps embarrassed that you have to clean up my mess?" Vox's hand slowly reaches down toward's his assistant's tail. The young man turned, opening his mouth to deny his boss's words but a gasp was ripped from his chest before he got the chance.

"Or are you embarrassed that this cute little tail is giving you away?~" Vox's hand quickly took the tail in his hand before it could wiggle away with his assistant's movement. The TV's voice purred as he gently held the tail on his lap, petting it slowly. He could still feel the muscle wanting to still wag even now.

"M-Misteheher V-Vohox! Please be c-cahahreful!" The shark demon quickly broke into anxious bubbly giggles, dropping the cloth to reach for his tail slowly.

"Careful? I am being careful. You think I'd hurt my cute little assistant's tail? What do you take me for, a monster?" Vox looked down at him with an eyebrow arched, a wicked grin spread across his screen.

"N-Nohohohoho! S-Sihihir my tail ihihis sensa-AHAha!" The adorable creature now on his side, curled up like a cat, kicking his feet in laughter.

"Aw is this tail sensitive, little pup? How cute~" Vox's claws now raking gently downward towards the end of his tail.

Sharkbait's face explodes into bright blue blush as he hid his face behind his hands, squealing and gently tugging on his tail. Vox decided his poor little tail had had enough, but the rest of him? Not a chance~

While Sharkbait wasn't looking, the overlord grabbed his little pup around the waist , guiding him onto his lap. The older demon's fingers touching from the slenderness of his assistant's waist.

The tv man snapped his fingers , making a wire slither to life, wrapping around his assistant's wrists holding them above his head, causing him to yelp. He was truly helpless and exposed right now.

"Cute little giggles you got there, pup. Let's see what happens when I use my claws here~" Vox's bright blue claws gently scratched at Sharkbait's sides and tummy at the same time.

The media demon's fingers leaving no spot on his middle untickled , making the little shark squeal, snort, and laugh. The little shark holding nothing back. He couldn't see it, but Vox was smiling at him.

"So cute~" Vox thought, letting his gentle tickles continue. He's always grateful for his little assistant.

END !

[weebsinstash]

Now Im interested on the "What if the 3 Vs passed Reader around like a blunt"

I kind of meant it in like a "what if you were some weird shared friend/pet" but I've seen people HC that the 3Vs are poly, although we've never seen any canon confirmation of this and on the Instas it was always Vox who was Val's explicit partner

Although to be nasty I feel like Velvette would be fucked up enough to watch Reader get railed by Val and Vox. Like in some party scenario where you're with all 3 in their house and Valentino dopes you up or something, she's just like, recording you getting spitroasted on her phone

I usually imagine these sorts of scenarios as Reader meeting Val and then slowly drawing the attention of the others, although Vox really has grown on me and I hope we see more of him these last two episodes. Anyways i'm starting to like the idea of Reader meeting Vox first. Like can you imagine you get hired on as a coder or a programmer or a product developer, and he's patrolling the facilities or checking in on a specific project and that's when you meet. He either notices the quality of your work or your manager brings it up to him, or there's some massive metaphorical fire you put out (like that woman who saved toy story 2 from being completely erased because she had all the files backed up, something like that)

You and Vox get to talking, getting along, having similar tastes. He starts giving you different projects, ones he thinks are better suited to your skills (and also put you in closer proximity to him). Fucking liar is arranging shit like company calendars or company events where there are photoshoots JUST so he has an excuse to pose with you for a photo. I mean, it makes sense right? Why would you question your boss wanting to take a celebratory photo at the release of a huge product launch? And you're happy and feeling so respected and successful and being friendlier with him the more you settle into Hell and feel safer, and then I imagine Vox's way of being "obvious" is that he's like, easily nervous or a nervous laugher , I dunno. It's all preference but I like yandere/antagonists who keep their cool a little bit but then it's also cute when they fawn over you 🥰 like the people who know him see the way he laughs around you and they Instantly Know

But then, maybe Val is perceptive enough to notice, "hey why does my man keep taking photos with this one specific person". Like maybe Vox is trying to be slick with it and all the photos are group shots but Val notices that every single photo has you in it and some of the photos are for really minor events he knows Vox wouldn't normally care about. Vox slips up one day when you and him are "sharing a car to go to a company event" which totally isn't like a catered dinner that there are only going to be SO many people at, TOTALLY NOT an incognito date that you're complerely unaware of the intentions behind, and Vox has to stop in back home to grab something, or you get pulled inside for a moment just to wait, he's gotta grab a laptop or a flash drive and, suddenly here's Velvette, "Vox I'm borrowing your nerdy employee, I'm short someone and I need a model for something" and you're getting dragged away

Vox is freaking out thinking you got swiped by Val and he's zipping through the electrical lines in the house (the electro-teleportation shit really is SUCH a game changer), and he finds you trying on things with Velvette, "oh my gosh I've never worn something this nice before, thank you for giving me the opportunity to try it on ^^" and Velvette is so pompous that any praise goes right to her head, and now Vox gets to see you all styled in... whatever. Velvette waves a finger, "now you two match!" as she puts you in an outfit with Vox's aesthetic and color scheme, and she's doing it to tease the both of you but she IMMEDIATELY notices "oh hey Vox what's that look on your face >:3c does someone have a crush?"

SHE would be the fucking gossip who would tell Val honestly. Actually new headcanon lmao: the Vs rarely want to share you but will rat each other out for "having you" in a heart beat. Velvette and Vox hide you from Val, but any of them will gladly steal you from the other lmao. God, a yandere Vox who's lucid and tryna keep his behaviors under wraps, keep it to pictures, stalking and looking from afar, and then you have the other two Vs like SHOVING YOU at him as like, a joke to watch him squirm and blush. They'd be randomly bringing you along just to tease him and watch him sweat. Valentino hits Vox up for a date or a night out and the tv demon shows up and you're there too lmao

I feel like these three are the worst because they all have the capacity to be obsessed with your appearance. Velvette is an influencer, Vox is a TV mogul and tech CEO, and Valentino... obviously we don't need to comment on his penchant for having arm candy. All of them are obsessed with their appearance and their brand and one of them is literally a tailor with magical clothes changing powers. You could have something like the other two Vs show up while you're serving Val drinks and Velvette cocks her brow, "hey, why doesn't this one have a proper uniform?" And she just starts zapping you into different varying levels of exposed outfits that match the other employees at the strip club and Val's aesthetic just for kicks as the big man himself oogles you like a pervert and his boyfriend is pretending he's not interested but, his screen is totally turning red

Tbh I'm suddenly thinking of like, imagine thinking "your body is safe" because Val has never come onto you and, you aren't sleeping with anyone and, you get upset one night and do some self harming behaviors. Velvette or Valentino comes and demands you try something on or you get nonconsensually zapped into something and there are cuts hidden on your body. Velvette is furious because this affects how you look in her clothes and what she can dress you up in, Vox is you know concerned because idk I imagine he knows what it's like to be horribly insecure and feel like you aren't good enough, and Valentino probably loves having you constantly half naked and the self harm scabs? Not hot, babe. Obviously they're all upset over you hurting yourself but, these are occasional feelings on top of that

Ugh I dunno just. They all have power and influence and money and they're all crazy and I'm over here kicking my feet and twirling my hair with thoughts of being objectified in allllll the fun ways