#how to weight loss being lazy

[jelreth]

god i remember like two years ago when id vent here every time something went wrong LOL. not now sweetheart we keep that shit under close wraps and never let loose

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: although it wasn’t in the way that he planned, zhongli finally proposes to you ♡

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Zhongli x F!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k | masterlist | byf/dni

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fluff, toothrotting fluff, established relationship, he calls you ‘my love’, ‘dearest’, you’re aware of him being the former archon, set at that floating island in the sky, you guys are so so in love lalalala

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

this piece is part of a flufftober event by spookuna ♡

For a moment, Zhongli couldn’t believe the words that left his lips. It had slipped out so naturally, so casually, as if he were merely asking about the weather. The question always lingered within him, much like the ring that waited patiently in his pocket whenever he decided the time wasn’t quite right.

Zhongli, a man of tradition, had always envisioned asking you at an appointed hour, at an appointed place, where the occasion would be nothing short of extraordinary.

Yet, here it was, out in the open, spoken with such casualness that betrayed its significance.

A gentle breeze swept across the landscape, nudging the summer clouds into a lazy drift. It was a cozy day for Liyue and as the sun made its descent below the horizon, the sky transformed into a fiery shade of orange.

High above Teyvat, hidden amidst the clouds, two pairs of legs dangled over a small floating island. They belonged to you and the former Archon, who often sought refuge in this corner of Liyue. Your fingers were intertwined with his as you gazed over the endless expanse. Finally free of prying eyes and the demands of everyday life, you sighed.

“Isn’t Liyue extra beautiful today, Zhongli?”

“It is, indeed,” he hummed, yet his eyes were not on the fading day. His gaze was fixed solely on you who sat beside him so calm and content, that he almost felt a pang of loss when you let go of his hand to rest your chin in your palm.

A small smile formed at the corners of your lips when his response reached your ears but your attention remained at the world below.

“I think you would appreciate its beauty more if you actually looked, you fool,” you replied, chuckling as you turned his face toward the dotted treetops and silhouettes of tiny homes.

Zhongli feigned a tired sigh, “No, I’m very aware of Liyue’s grace. I just prefer what’s in front of me, my love.”

You nudged him playfully, your legs swinging carelessly in the air. If there was a part of you that was afraid of heights, it vanished entirely in his presence.

“I’m serious,” He said, sliding an arm around your waist as a subtle invitation for you to relax your head on his shoulders.

He was serious though.

Being immortal— he had learned— was both a gift and a curse. It granted him both solitude and loneliness. He watched Liyue grow through centuries as if it were his very child and only two years ago, you had marched into his life like a reminder that love had not forgotten him. Beyond even the gift of immortality, you gave him a reason to cherish the present. So yes, he was utterly serious about choosing you above all else.

Unaware of his contemplation, you decided to tease him. “So you’re telling me you’re growing tired of Liyue?” You knew he wasn’t but what was the point of being tough and impenetrable if you couldn’t poke a bit of fun?

“How could I?” he shook his head. “Liyue is forever new and beautiful. You, however, are just a terrible distraction.”

You both laughed but there was weight to his words. Selfishly, he was thankful for not being the Archon anymore because, by Celestia above, you would have distracted him more than he dared to admit from his duties.

Then you remembered something.

“Oh, right!” You sat up and a soft smile played on your lips when you began taking out a book from your travel bag. The stiff cover and imperfect stitching suggested to him that you had made it yourself.

“I have something to show you.” You opened to the first page and there was a photo of you two from one of your travels. “Remember this?”

He chuckled, the memory still vivid in his head, “Do you know who you’re speaking to?” Zhongli took the book from you, studying it before flipping to the next page and then the next.

“I can see that you’ve put the photos in order… How thoughtful.”

You nodded.

Then he stopped at a certain picture, “Ah, our first Lantern Rite together— that was a pleasant night. You were so enchanted by those noodles from that vendor, that you insisted on having them for dinner all week.”

“And for some reason, my hunger has not yet been quelled, Zhongli,” you teased with another nudge.

“Soon, soon. I promise,” he replied with a sly grin only reserved for you.

“You know,” you began, “I’d like to travel beyond Liyue someday.”

“Where would you go?” he raised a brow at the sudden statement.

You hummed, thinking for a moment and then you pointed at the patch of emerald forestry barely visible through the billowing clouds, “Sumeru— the jungles there are supposed to be incredible. Or perhaps Inazuma. The cherry blossoms there are breathtaking,” turning more to the south as you said the latter.

As always, Zhongli listened while you rambled on about your future adventures.

“...We could go anywhere, do anything,” You suggested at the end of your little spiel.

“We can plan something,” he agreed.

“Oh, it’d be magical,” your heart swelled at the idea, “Maybe we could even reach Fontaine and have a picnic by their waters.”

You nearly gasped at how remarkable your idea was, “Oh my, Zhongli. Can you imagine sitting under the sun? With a book? My bones are getting all relaxed just thinking about—”

“Dearest?” Zhongli gently interrupted.

“Yes?” You replied, slightly worried about talking too much.

“Do you suppose we could keep doing this?”

“This?” You looked around the floating island, admittedly a little bewildered, “As in, coming here? Why would we ever stop?”

“No, no. I’m referring to us, just being together wherever we go. It doesn’t matter to me where we are.”

“Zhongli…”

“Do you think we could continue this… journey together?”

The question hung in the air, simple yet profound.

At this point, you turned fully to him, gaze softening as you met his amber eyes. They were wise and longing and wonderfully human.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Any form of hesitation died in his throat as he fiddled with his pocket and presented a ring to you. The world faded into a soft blur as he did.

“Then do you suppose you could marry me?”

Nothing but your breath escaped your lips. You were momentarily speechless. Sure, Zhongli had been oddly quiet but today was meant to be just another day. Now, your reality as you knew it became a distant memory.

He swallowed hard as he held the ring. It looked ancient but well-preserved, like a piece of fine craftsmanship. The gold band had delicate carvings unfamiliar to you and the stone was cut in such a way that it caught and refracted the last rays of sunlight as if it were alive. Maybe it was the remnants of divinity residing in him, but it radiated a soothing warmth in his hand. How would anyone believe that a humble consultant at the Wangsheng funeral parlour proposed to you with this?

Your chest began to bubble with emotion and you wanted to scream.

“Y-You want to marry me?” Your voice caught in your throat.

You could feel yourself getting hot, the reality of him wanting to be with you forever slowly crept up on you.

“Yes, I simply want to enjoy life with you. But if it takes a contract to call you my wife then of all the contracts I’ve ever woven, this one will remain my final and most sacred.”

He looked at you with a reverent smile.

“So what do you say?”

You pulled him into a tight embrace, feeling his words settle over you. In front of you wasn’t just the God of Contracts; he was the man who captured your heart. For every lingering kiss, every fulfilled promise, every time he opened you up to a new world of knowledge even when you thought you saw it all, and for every time he lent an ear and believed in your dreams— you knew what your answer would be.

“Yes. Yes!” The second time sounded louder than the last. Your voice was full of so much tenderness and conviction. You couldn’t stop saying it. “Yes, a thousand times, yes.” If you told the version of yourself from many years ago that you would be this important to someone, you would laugh.

“Thank you,” he said in the most sincere voice you’ve ever heard. “You have made me the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.”

Zhongli slid the ring onto your finger before cupping your face. You could feel the trail of kisses he was leaving on your forehead, then down your cheeks, and finally they found home between the plush of your lips— his kisses were so warm and gentle that it was hard to believe this was the same God people described as having a heart of stone.

Everything around you seemed to pause. The sun had almost fully set and the sky was now painted with the first hint of evening stars. With you in his arms, he wondered if this sense of peace came from being on this island or from the fact that he could now soon call you his wife.

Wife… he repeated in his head. His wife… it sounded just right.

A crisp breeze had settled between the two of you, perhaps for the better, to calm your burning hearts. After finally breaking away from him, you were the first to speak.

“So, what do we do now?”

Zhongli chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair, “We continue, just as we always have… However, I hope you don’t mind me being a little more permanent to you now.”

“Permanent, huh?” You smiled, feeling a warmth coursing through you that had nothing to do with the summer air. “I like the sound of that.”

Eventually, Zhongli rose, helping you to your feet. He offered you his arm with a familiar gentlemanly gesture, “It’s getting a little dark. Shall we head back, my love”

“Mmm,” You slipped into his grasp, “Let’s go home.”

Home. The meaning was always tied to Liyue, by the earth and stone he had shaped for thousands of years. But now that's changed.

No matter where the world took him, as long as he faced it side-by-side with you, he knew that home would be wherever you were. Seeing you was like returning to a place he never truly left. Lost in thought, his thumb brushed gently over the ring he had just placed on your finger.

Home.

Zhongli liked the sound of that.

For the first time in his long life, the word felt complete.

a/n: i actually wrote this for an oc a while back, but i’m so glad i get to share this with people because i was so smitten at the time of writing it and reading this brings back all those feelings

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

all dividers are from @/chachachannah

[jay-ce01]

“A new chapter”

Natasha x Fem!Reader

Warning : Pregnancy ?

Words : 2k

The early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of their bedroom, casting a soft, golden hue over the room. Natasha Romanoff lay sprawled beneath the sheets, her red hair spilling over the pillow like a fiery halo. Beside her, you stirred gently, feeling the warmth of the sunlight kissing your skin. Instinctively, your hand drifted to the small bump on your stomach, a tiny life that had grown inside you over the past five months.

Natasha, who was never much of a morning person unless it involved a mission, shifted slightly and wrapped her arm around your waist. “You’re awake,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“Mmm,” you responded softly, resting your hand over hers. “So are you.”

A lazy smile tugged at Natasha’s lips as she blinked her eyes open, catching sight of you, her wife, the love of her life, and now the soon-to-be mother of her child. It was a sight she would never tire of. “How are you feeling today?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Better,” you replied, leaning into her touch. “Not as queasy as yesterday. I think the worst of the morning sickness is finally behind me.”

Natasha’s green eyes softened with relief. Though she was known for her cool, composed demeanor in the field, you had seen a different side of her throughout this pregnancy. She had been attentive, caring, and fiercely protective, never missing a beat when it came to making sure you were comfortable and healthy.

“Good,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’m glad.”

You turned to face her, cupping her cheek in your hand. “You’re going to make a great mom, you know.”

Natasha laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I hope so,” she said. “I’m still learning how to do this.”

“You don’t have to know everything right away,” you reassured her. “We’ll figure it out together.”

She nodded, though you could tell she still carried the weight of her insecurities. Natasha’s past had been riddled with pain and loss, her childhood stolen away by the Red Room, where she had been trained to be a weapon rather than a person. The idea of being a mother—of nurturing and caring for another human being—was new and terrifying to her. But she was trying, for you, for your family.

“Come on,” you said, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

Natasha groaned, reluctantly letting go of you as you stood. She stretched her arms above her head, her muscles rippling beneath her skin. Even in her most relaxed moments, there was an edge to Natasha, a constant readiness that came from years of espionage and survival.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of it all. Your life with Natasha had been filled with ups and downs, from the chaos of her missions with the Avengers to the quiet moments like these. But it was the quiet moments you cherished most—the times when it was just the two of you, no world to save, no battles to fight, just love and each other.

In the kitchen, you busied yourself preparing breakfast. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, and you reached for the pancake mix, suddenly craving something sweet.

Natasha appeared behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. “You’re making pancakes?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Yep,” you replied, grinning. “Pancakes for me and the baby.”

Natasha chuckled softly, placing a gentle kiss on your neck. “I’ll never understand how your cravings work.”

“Neither will I,” you admitted, laughing. “But I’m going with it.”

As you cooked, Natasha helped where she could, setting the table and making sure everything was just right. It was moments like these that reminded you how far you had come together. Years ago, when you had first met, Natasha had been guarded, distant even. She had built walls around herself to protect her heart, but somehow, you had broken through.

It hadn’t been easy. Your relationship had faced its fair share of challenges, from Natasha’s past to the unpredictable nature of her work. But through it all, you had loved each other fiercely, and that love had grown into something beautiful. Now, with a child on the way, your bond felt stronger than ever.

Over breakfast, you and Natasha talked about everything and nothing—the baby’s nursery, possible names, and how much your lives were about to change. Natasha still had that familiar look in her eyes, that subtle mix of excitement and fear.

As you cleared the table, Natasha caught your wrist gently, her touch feather-light. "Y/N..." she began, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "What if I... what if I don't know how to be a mother?"

You paused, setting the dishes down and turning to face her fully. This was a conversation you knew was coming, but it still made your heart ache to see the vulnerability in her expression. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, rarely let her guard down, and when she did, it was only with you.

You took her hands in yours, squeezing them softly. "Tasha, you are going to be a wonderful mother."

She shook her head slightly, her eyes downcast. "I wasn't raised with love or warmth. I don’t know what a normal family looks like."

Your heart broke for her. You knew Natasha's past haunted her, the trauma of the Red Room, the years spent as a spy, the lives she had taken. But you also knew the woman she had become—the woman who had fought so hard to make amends, who had chosen love over isolation, who had made a life with you.

"You’re not defined by your past," you said softly, lifting her chin so her eyes met yours. "You’re kind, caring, and protective. You’ve already shown me what kind of mother you’ll be, just by how you love me. You don’t have to know everything right away. We’ll learn together. We’ll make mistakes, sure. But we’ll figure it out. Together."

Natasha's lips quirked into a small, uncertain smile. "Together," she repeated, her voice soft.

You leaned in, kissing her gently, your hands resting against her chest. “Besides,” you whispered against her lips, “I have complete faith in you. You're one of the strongest people I know, and if anyone can do this, it's you."

Natasha’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. Her breath was warm against your skin, and you felt her relax, the tension easing from her body.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll always be here for you, Tasha. Always.”

---

As the weeks passed, your pregnancy progressed steadily, and Natasha became more and more involved in preparing for the baby’s arrival. She threw herself into the task with the same dedication she had for her missions, researching parenting techniques, attending every doctor’s appointment with you, and even reading baby books at night.

Despite her initial reservations, Natasha had embraced the idea of becoming a mother with a quiet determination. You watched with pride as she grew more confident, though there were still moments of doubt. Whenever those moments arose, you were there to remind her that you were in this together.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Natasha sat on the couch, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as an old movie played in the background. Your head rested on her lap, and she absentmindedly ran her fingers through your hair. You felt peaceful, content, and safe.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be parents soon,” you mused, your hand resting on your growing belly.

Natasha smiled down at you, her eyes soft with affection. “It’s still surreal to me too,” she admitted. “But in a good way.”

You chuckled. “I hope our kid has your determination. And your sense of justice.”

“And your kindness,” Natasha added. “Your warmth. They’ll need that.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and you turned slightly to meet her gaze. “They’re going to be lucky to have you as a mom, Natasha.”

Natasha brushed a strand of hair from your face, her touch tender. “And they’ll be lucky to have you too, Y/N.”

---

The months flew by, and soon, you were in your final trimester. The nursery was finished, the tiny clothes neatly folded, and the crib assembled. Natasha had even painted the room herself, a soft shade of lavender that filled the space with a sense of calm and tranquility.

One night, as you lay in bed together, you felt a sudden, sharp kick from the baby. You gasped softly, your hand flying to your stomach.

Natasha immediately sat up, her eyes wide with concern. “What? What is it? Are you okay?”

You smiled, taking her hand and placing it on your belly. “Feel that.”

Natasha’s eyes widened as she felt the movement beneath her palm. Her face lit up with wonder and awe as she felt another kick. “Wow…” she breathed, her voice filled with emotion.

“She’s strong,” you whispered, grinning.

Natasha’s lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She leaned down, pressing her cheek against your belly. “Hey, little one,” she whispered. “It’s your mama. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at the sight of Natasha speaking to your child, her voice filled with so much love and tenderness. This was the side of her that only you saw—the side of Natasha that was vulnerable, open, and full of love.

As the days passed and the due date drew closer, the anticipation built. You and Natasha continued to support each other through the final stages of the pregnancy, and with each passing day, the reality of becoming parents became more and more tangible.

---

The night your water broke, it was raining outside, a heavy downpour that soaked the streets. Natasha had been pacing the living room, her nerves getting the best of her, when you suddenly gasped, clutching your stomach.

“Tasha,” you breathed, “it’s time.”

Natasha’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she froze. Then, in typical Natasha fashion, she sprang into action, grabbing your hospital bag and helping you to the car.

The drive to the hospital was a blur, but Natasha never left your side. She held your hand through every contraction, whispered words of encouragement, and reassured you when the pain became overwhelming.

Hours passed, but Natasha remained steadfast, her love and support unwavering. And when the baby was finally born, when the tiny cry filled the room, both of you were overcome with emotion.

Tears streamed down Natasha’s face as the nurse placed your daughter in her arms. She looked down at the tiny, perfect face, her eyes wide with wonder. You watched as Natasha’s tough exterior crumbled, replaced by a softness you had never seen before.

“She’s beautiful,” Natasha whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Just like you.”

You smiled through your own tears, your heart overflowing with love. “We did it, Tasha.”

Natasha looked at you, her eyes filled with so much love it took your breath away. “We did,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss you gently. “And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

As you gazed down at your daughter, now resting peacefully in Natasha’s arms, you knew that this was the beginning of a new chapter. A chapter filled with love, laughter, and the beautiful chaos of parenthood.

And no matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that you and Natasha would face them together, as a family.

[universalitgirlsblog2]

🎀💗IT GIRL'S MASTERLIST🎀💗

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Tam kaur series -self validation ( updated ) , dream girl , overthinking , high value woman, good luck , detachment

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[writingwithcolor]

Any advice for handling race in reincarnation situations?

@swamp-spirit asked:

I'm writing a story that includes characters being reincarnated with completely different appearances. It's a fantasy world, and most of the characters are being reborn in the same region, but I still want a range of skin tones and features in the main cast (this is a comic). I have weird feelings about a character being 'reborn' with notably lighter or darker skin, but it also feels implausible and lazy for people to Just Happen to have a similar appearance when the theology of the story doesn't support it. Characters being reborn, and taking out things specific to real life groups, what are the major things you'd want an author to read up on or take into account? (Note: there is not a 'white' looking ethnic group in this story)

I don’t think it’s a problem as long as the skin tones don’t have any correlation to the circumstances that they’re reincarnated into.

- SK

It’s an interesting question, because in most religions where reincarnation/ transmigration of the soul is a feature of “what happens after death”, remembering one’s past life is not really part of the package deal. From what you’ve written, it’s not clear to me where the “memory” of these characters’ lives are held. Is there a 3rd person omniscient narrator telling the audience who each person is in their next life or do the characters themselves retain memory of past lives?

Assuming this is your typical reincarnation scenario where characters retain no memory of previous lives, it doesn’t much matter. The next life is the next life. Who a person was in their previous life and that identity, in theory, means nothing to them. This also means whatever personality, values, experiences and so on they had in their previous life no longer has meaning. They are, in effect, another person. However, you say you feel awkward about the above which makes me wonder if characters are remembering past lives, in which case…

If you study pretty much any major Asian religion where reincarnation is a part of the belief system, having no memory of the previous life is par for the course. In present-day religions like Jainism, Sikhism, Hinduism and Buddhism, only “special” (I’m using the term very casually here) entities like bodhisattvas, guru, arihant, buddhas, etc. usually get to keep their memories, while the rest of us (literal) mere mortals are supposed to lose our memories between lives as a part of Samsara. In Hinduism, even the gods often forget their previous lives, unless their reincarnation had a targeted purpose (Like being born to defeat an evil entity). 

For most people, it is only through prayer, devotion, meditation and accumulated virtuous/ good/ compassionate deeds that humans are thought to deepen their understanding of the nature of the universe, and thus have the capacity to remember past lives (I’m, again, paraphrasing very loosely here from several years worth of university history+religion courses).  

This is why the isekai genre in Japan is largely regarded as a “cheat”/ parody genre of fantasy. The protagonist, according to common Japanese cultural beliefs, which are quite heavily grounded in Buddhism, is definitively “cheating.” Not to get too ironically biblical, the character’s success often comes from the forbidden knowledge borne of their previous life. 

Thus, there are two ways I look at your characters’ predicaments: 

It’s not technically reincarnation - not by the way most major world religions define reincarnation, anyway. You have people who died now inhabiting other bodies, but that’s not the same as the transmigration of the soul. Also, you want to delve into the weirdness (and maybe heaviness) of “Wow, I went to sleep with one face and woke up with another.” There are certainly stories about people who have had dramatic cosmetic plastic surgery, weight loss surgery, HRT, etc. and then experienced the difference in the “before” versus “after” of how their altered physical appearance makes them feel, as well as how other people treat them. Even if the community your characters are born into now differs from their previous community (Which I guess would make this more a “I traveled between dimensions, and my appearance altered in the process” sci-fi adjacent affair), their new life will still have social environments with differing attitudes towards human physical appearance that will affect your characters’ emotional states. 

Isekai it up and play with the ridiculous contradiction of having past lives and differing memories of one’s appearance. Isekai manga, manhwa and webtoons all make use of this trope heavily, especially with protagonists who experience a “glow-up” (Ex. Going from a Plain Jane OL to beautiful fantasy heroine) or, by contrast, protagonists who end up in very different forms from their original lives (Tensura, I’m a Spider, So What?). I’d be creative and go even more granular. Being able to tan after a lifetime of getting sunburns or no longer needing glasses might be nice, but what if the new body lacks the enzymes to process dairy or alcohol? What about dealing with differences in hair texture? Skincare routines? What about living life as a very tall person after being quite short or vice versa? What if you bumped into an acquaintance from your previous life, and one of you clearly got a more “coveted” reincarnation?  See how far of an extreme you can take this idea until it feels too uncomfortable or ridiculous. 

Marika.

[eelnoise]

in my feels tonight so have some zoro fluff that i wrote to help 🤫

BTW i appreciate you guys so much. thanks for reading my silly fics 🫶🫶🫶

zoro x gn!reader (if I slip a pronoun in lmk!! I'm tired and it ain't proofread!!)

this fic has a sequel!!

Zoro wakes with a start. His right eye springing open and blinking several times to clear his vision. His chest is heaving and a light layer of sweat is damp against his skin as his groggy brain processes his surroundings. 

Another nightmare. 

Flashes of his past - times where he failed or disappointed had long haunted him, and recurring memories seemed to follow him even in sleep most nights. 

It eats at him deeply, even if he doesn't show it on his face or in his demeanor. Years of grief and loss in the face of danger and battle has hardened Zoro, a stoic mask carved into his expression that hides his feelings and serves as a filter for unwanted emotions. 

He has to stay strong, at least on a surface level. He has a crew to protect and a captain to aid - people who rely on and expect great things from him.

Zoro keeps his thoughts tightly wrapped, bottling them up in a way that only makes him spiral further into his own anguish. 

A quiet and frustrated sigh passes through his lips, the hand at his side twisting into a fist in anger when he feels a head-sized weight on his chest and a much smaller arm draped around his middle. 

It's you.

His heart leaps when he takes in your sleeping form. Your face is caught in the moonlight peering in through the window in his cabin, peaceful and relaxed in what Zoro hopes is a bliss filled slumber. 

He wraps his arm around you, one hand coming to rest on your head as he begins to stroke your hair. A soft, lazy smile twitches at the sides of his mouth.

You're a reminder that life can feel more vivid - a light in the dark recesses of his mind. A reminder that even someone as cold and as rough as he seems to be is worthy of love. 

Love - what a word to describe how he feels toward you. 

It's something he'd never thought about having; something that always seemed so foreign and strange to him. Loving someone with your whole being was something he couldn't understand, devoting himself to something other than his dream, and this life of piracy didn't seem possible. 

Zoro would die for his captain. He would and had taken on anyone who stood in Luffy's way on their journey. Left on death's door many times, Zoro could've gone out knowing that he'd done his part. It didn't matter if he lived or died as long as Luffy could live his dream. 

But for you, he'll come back every time. 

He has to live.

Just meeting you had ignited a flame he thought long dormant, the fire fanning into a greater blaze when you seemed to understand him, body and soul. And when you took his hand in yours that one fateful evening, your fingers entwining with his after a long conversation at midnight in the crow's nest - he had fallen head over heels. 

He cherishes you in a way he had thought impossible. You know just how he ticks, and you always seem to be right there with open arms when he really needs you. 

Words don't need to be exchanged to show the love between you - that isn't really his forte. You met this particular behavior with learned ones of your own, forgoing average public displays of affection and replacing them. A simple but gentle touch to his shoulder can anchor him. The quick brush of your hand next to his in passing always has a deeper and more unspoken meaning to it. 

You know him like no other, and he makes sure to show you just how much he cares in the only ways he knows how. 

Zoro presses his lips to the top of your head a few times, breathing in the scent of your hair with a warm smile. You hum even deep within your dreamy state and nuzzle your face closer to him, warm and safe in his tight embrace. 

God, he loves you. 

[hellyeahsickaf]

You know how you look back at past shitty connections, friends, family dynamics, and relationships and you're like "I can't believe I let them treat me that way"? I think it hits differently with disability because when you're disabled you don't always even know that you're being mistreated and/or abused in regards to it.

I know statistically disabled people are more likely to be abused but sometimes there's an additional type of abuse that's hard to identify even in hindsight because no one tells you how abusive it is.

But ableist abuse relating to your disability can look like:

Pushing you to do things beyond your limitations despite their awareness of them.

Blaming you for the "inconveniences" brought on by things beyond your control (ex: missing a movie because you had to wait for your pain meds to kick in).

Not allowing you to take breaks or antagonizing you when you do.

Bullying or making fun of things you can't help like gait, a lisp, an embarrassing symptom.

Trying to "cure" or "fix" you, often framing it as "helping" you. Sometimes they look similar and you might be able to tell by their reaction towards lack of improvement.

Holding over you the things they have to do for you (cooking, cleaning, driving, working, etc).

Giving ultimatums that demand things of you that you can't do (getting a job, keeping up with multiple chores).

Using insulting terms, language, and/or slurs that you have not permitted them to or in a context where there is intent to harm you.

Interrogating you about your disability or trying to find discrepancies between your experiences and what they've heard/read/seen about it.

Implying or saying anything along the lines of you faking, being lazy, or exaggerating. Reducing you to a hypochondriac, saying you enjoy being disabled because you seem to like having things done for you, or that you're lazy or abusing them by depending on them for things.

Asking you about it not to learn more, but to use it against you in some way.

Having a martyr complex, acting as if they're a hero for giving you the support you deserve.

Calling you a burden, implying you to be one, or treating you like one.

Acting like you owe them a debt, sometimes even demanding some kind of repayment. Keeping track of money they spend on you that you won't be able to pay back, feeling entitled to things like control, sex, a portion of government benefits, etc.

Self victimizing. They act like you being disabled causes more suffering to themselves than you.

Accusing you of being addicted to your medication. If you genuinely develop an addiction a normal response is concern not rage, finger pointing, etc. if you don't have one baseless claims are very harmful

Trying to force you to stop "depending" on things you need like medication and disability aids

Comparing you to others that are doing "better" than you. Maybe showing you inspiration porn of someone with no legs for example doing incredible things- which is great for them but the "I don't let my disability stop me so you can do anything" shit is harmful. Some of us will get very unwell if we try, and some just can't.

Trying to make others also see you as dramatic, faking, or lazy. Often embarrassing and mocking you as well.

Withholding things you need like medication or disability aids as a punishment

Saying your disability is karma or something inflicted by a divine entity/religious figure. Maybe as punishment for not praying, being queer, or something else they disagree with.

Saying that it's a result of being "promiscuous"/LGBT. For instance if you have HIV or ME/CFS that was a result of something like mononucleosis ("kissing disease").

Shaming you for things related to your disability beyond your control or expressing embarrassment over these things. including but not limited to: appearance (general but also things like say a lupus butterfly rash or weight gain/loss), having to lay down in public (ex: with POTS), inability to keep up with hygiene, etc.

Lacking boundaries and acting as if they are entitled to information or intrusion of your space/belongings due to the power they hold over you and assistance they may provide.

Implying/saying you're living an extended vacation. Maybe one they say they wish they had because they have to do x y z while you "sit around"

Abandoning you solely for your disability (ex: because you can't hang out, they don't want a disabled partner, think you're faking, etc)

Note that someone doing one or two of these things a few times doesn't always mean they're abusing you (also depends on which). It's about the patterns and frequency of this behavior as well as refusal to improve once aware that they're hurting you. People who care about you don't want to hurt you and the normal response is to do their best not to repeat the action that negatively affected you

There are more examples and you can feel free to list some

✨This is about physical illnesses and disabilities, please don't derail✨

[messycunt]

No thoughts, only Leona and Tummy bulges

-🌸

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GRUMPY LION i never manage to post birthday stuff on time so I'm super proud of being able to queue this in advance even tho I rushed it!

small context that's kinda not needed; reader missed leonas party so he's a lil sour abt that lol

cw: afab reader, creampie, size kink, scratching and biting but no blood, not proof read

it gets so fucking hot in savanaclaw.

now that the sun has set its not that bad though. mostly anyway, the last rays of light casting gorgeous pink and orange hues visible through the wide open aired windows of the dorm. you're much too preoccupied to worry about any of that even though you should be, nrc does have a somewhat enforced curfew afterall. something to consider tomorrow maybe.

for hours its been like this; chest to your back, a hot mouth pressed against your neck leaving a path of wet bites and kisses, sharp freshly manicured nails(a 2 days early birthday gift from vil of all people apparently, how sweet…) digging into the fat of backs of your thighs to keep them pushed up to your chest and spread open. leona did almost all of the work for you, stuffing your cunt and bouncing your body up and back down on his lap.

grunting and panting against your neck he moves a hand from your thigh to push against your lower stomach. he can feel himself filling you and you squeal at the pressure. he mumbles a strained 'fuuuuck' under his breath before lifting you off of him, scoffing teasingly at your whine from the loss of him inside of you. you're pushed down onto the bed on all fours, your lion towers over you from behind.

a pile of gifts sits in the corner of his room. its not even half of what he received today in total since he gave most of it away in the last few hours, whatever ruggie didn't manage to already get his paws on anyways.

you face it now and leona's sliding himself back into you leaning over your much smaller body and nipping at the nape of your neck. a warm careful hand moving to where you both were joined to push and rub at your clit in slow lazy circles timed differently from his thrusts. he could feel your cunt pulsing with your heartbeat.

a few tags have long carefully written notes with long titles signed in gorgeous typography too small and loopy for you to read with your clouded mind and tears of pleasure filled eyes. most are written simply 'to: leona'.

he hums pleased with himself when you cum against him from his fingers(sure to have you finish first how princely!) popping his fingers into his mouth to lick clean and moan and slowing his thrusts.

his sweat drips down on your back to mix with your own. a growl sounds from behind you, weight is shifted to lean atop you more forcefully and nails dig again against your tummy. feeling again how he makes room for himself inside of you, he loves it. skin to skin for a second he stills and you gasp.

he fills your already warmer than warm insides with his own liquid heat and your toes curl. your gift to him and his gift to you.

face still smushed against the mattress and drool pooling in your mouth you mumble "happy 'irthday my prince". he simply grunts in acknowledgement, eyes already closed. he flops to lay on his slide facing you, fast asleep.

even if you went through with the effort to wake him up from his dead sleep you can already hear his tired mumbles of 'jus' clean up later' and 'ill walk you back to ramshackle tomorrow' before falling back asleep. so you leave him, snuggling up next to him silently and falling into a dreamless sleep.

[itsbubbleteataro]

hello! Saw your requests were open! If its cool can I request some headcanons (or whatever seems the best fit) with Sampo, Jing Yuan and Sunday finding their anxious! reader ( constant buzzing like a bee level anxiety) under multiple thick blankets (woth a weighted one onto as well) being all cozy, calm and sweet? Im talking the level where you can't tell there's a person untill they peek their head out. Reader finds the squish really comfy.

(Also just wanted to let you know that your pinned post has jun Yung listed under hsr. I just assumed it was Jing yuan but if not feel free to ignore him in my request)

thank you!

Dgejoaajwnebrhrwqknerbsjwjw thank you for catching my spelling mistake im so sorry!

Sure that sounds lovely! I can also say that I confidently relate to reader here as I too can be found typing away under a mound of blankets!

HSR headcannons!

Sampo with Anxious!Reader

Finds it strange at first but chalks it up to you hiding away from the cold

That was until he realized that you usually ended up under your mountain of blankets after situations that usually resulted with you feeling anxious

how did he find this out? Well he's Sampo, so he simply followed you home and looked through your window to find you under all your blankets

placing two and two together he figured out that you tend to always be buzzing with some kind of anxiety based off of how often you wind up under your blankets

one day you had invited him over, telling him to just let himself in

Overall I think he would find it adorable and just a tad concerning

Sampo's eyes drifted over to a mound of various colored blankets laying on a bed, his ears perking up once he hears a squeak coming from it. A smile crosses his face as he watches your head poke out from from the hoard of blankets. He can't help the laughter that fills the room as you give him a sheepish smile

Jing Yuan with Anxious!Reader

The first time he finds you under your pile of blankets is after a particularly rough meeting, one where you ended up agreeing on biting off more than you could chew

The second time he found you under your pile of blankets was after you went through quite a scare, turning in his and your paperwork just before they were due

The third time he finds you under the pile of blankets he ends up laying down next to you, however leaving you to the mass of blankets

With a lazy grin he asks what's bothering you this time, only to be pleasantly surprised to find that nothing was amiss and that you simply just enjoy laying under the mass of blankets

Can't say that he entirely understands but is just wanting to spend time with you

May not be happy about sharing your space with a mass of blankets, may push it off just so he can cuddle you

You and Jing Yuan had decided to play a game of go together. He looked up at you, your brow furrowed in concentration as you lay on your stomach. About twenty blankets lay on top of you including a few weighted ones. He can't help but smile as his golden orbs watch as you work hard to beat him while retaining the comfort that your mass of blankets bring

Sunday x Anxious!Reader

How strange is it to him that when you're not in the dream realm, your found under a mass of blankets, poking your head out of anyone wishes to speak

The first time he had found out about your love of blankets, you had shown him a new weighted blanket you were excited to buy

After that the two of you took to the dream realm, excitedly dragging him from blanket store to blanket store showing him the softest of ones

The loss of his sister hurts him in ways he can't express, so you decide to gift him a weighted blanket, hoping it may have the same effect on him as it does on you

I think Sunday would be glad that you tend to stay under all your blankets, ensuring him that you will remain safe as long as you are in the waking world

"Where are you dragging me this time?" Sunday asked, an annoyed look on his face though his tone betrayed him. You rush past the animated billboards trying to get your attention as you push the door open to a store. You excitedly show him a weighted blanket and his expression softens. He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair. "You really are fascinated by the strangest of things aren't you my dear?"

[gravehags]

girls night in the ghouls den. You’re painting each others nails and doing each others hair and giggling and gossiping. And when you shyly admit to cirrus that you’ve never been able to cum before, well, how can she not take that as a challenge.

Lars i was not expecting to write this much but i was Inspired. Enjoy 😌

Pairing: Cirrus x F!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT MDNI

Words: fuck knows

Tags: making out, titty sucking, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, possessiveness

~~~

“You what?”

Cirrus’ incredulous voice cuts through the room and the sound of Chappell Roan singing that comes from the portable speaker. You’re blushing, ears uncomfortably red, and you pick idly at the dried nail polish that messily got on your fingers. When Cirrus brings a finger under your chin to tilt your gaze back up to her, butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“I’ve…I’ve never cum.”

“Not…not even when you—?”

“Especially not then. I don’t know, my head has never been in the right space. Never felt good or…well, right.”

You’re violently embarrassed - even more so from the way she’s looking at you right now with such pity. But in a flash, the pity morphs into something…different. Something shiny and hungry and your heartbeat quickens as you watch the pink tip of her tongue slide out to wet her lips.

“I could do it,” she says, straightening her shoulders with confidence, “if that uh…interests you.”

If that interests you? You’ve only been pining for the tall ghoulette for months now, aching to turn these girl’s nights you’ve been having into something more. Suddenly your mind is flooded with images of lips and tongues, deft fingers, and warm giggles. Somehow your flush deepens, spreading across your chest and Cirrus’ sharp gaze follows its path.

“Y-yeah. I’d like that. Please.”

The final word is barely out of your mouth and she’s already crawling towards you on her hands and knees.

“Lie down and get comfortable,” Cirrus murmurs, the red wine on her breath ghosting over your lips. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” you ask softly as you lean back onto the pile of pillows. She straddles you in a heartbeat and runs a painted claw down the side of your cheek.

“But first I gotta warm you up,” Cirrus leans down and brushes her lips over your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks, “Nice and slow. I want you dripping for me.”

Your gasp is cut off when she slides her lips against yours, and feeling bold, you thread your hand through her dark hair and pull her close. It doesn’t take long before you feel Cirrus’ hot tongue seeking entrance which you eagerly grant. As your tongues and teeth meet, Cirrus drags a lazy hand up your torso and slowly pries the strap of your tank top down, along with the front of the shirt. When she pulls back to look at your exposed breasts you whine at the loss of her mouth. Idly she thumbs over your nipple, stiffening it before giving it a playful sharp pinch. You yelp slightly, hips bucking against her and she smiles before returning to your mouth once more. As your kisses get wetter, deeper, hungrier Cirrus continues to toy with your hardened nipple, cupping and squeezing the weight of your breast in her palm. When you whimper against her mouth and nudge her nose with yours she laughs - low and sultry.

"Gotta tell me what you want, angel," she teases, pulling back. She doesn't know why it took the two of you this long to get here but fuck she's happy you made it. Your pupils are blown and your lips swollen as you look up at her with adoration.

“S-suck,”

Cirrus tsks, knowing you can do better than that. With a shaky exhale you let out a low whine.

“Suck my tits, please.”

Cirrus coos at you, her sweet girl who knows how to ask so nicely even without being told. When her mouth descends on your breast she brings her lips together and blows a stream of cold air on the bud. The result is well worth it from the gasp that comes out of you and the tight little circles your hips make against her. When she flicks her tongue against you, you whine once more, hand returning to its place buried in her hair. Delightedly she takes your nipple into her hot mouth and sucks, smiling against your soft skin when you breathe her name like a prayer. Cirrus continues to lave her tongue along your breasts, running the muscle over every bump and valley. She could do this for hours - part of her is curious if she can make you cum just from this - but her mouth isn’t quite where she wants to be yet. When she pulls away from your chest - delightfully swollen from her ministrations - you very nearly cry out.

“Easy, angel,” Cirrus purrs, sliding down to place a kiss on the curve of your belly, “plenty of time for that later. I got a job to do, remember?”

“Mmmm, please Cir. Want to feel you.”

With a throb from between her own thighs, Cirrus regrets not having her strap on her right now so she could stuff you full of her. Instead she contents herself with sliding your sleep shorts and underwear off your hips and down your legs. When you’re finally exposed you slowly spread your legs for her, delighting in the way the ghoulette’s gaze darkens at the sight of you. Pretty little curls on a thick mound and below that…Cirrus gently reaches down to spread you apart and when your slick begins to drip on the carpet below you she nearly goes feral.

“Hmm,” she says, settling between your legs and pressing sweet little open-mouth kisses to the inside of your thigh, “Pretty.”

“Yeah?” you breathe, and she can hear the smile on your face.

“Mmhmm,” she murmurs while nosing the curls, “all pretty and pink and sopping wet just for me.”

You make a noise somewhere in between a laugh of incredulity and a moan and when she spreads you open and slowly drags her tongue through your folds, you cry out.

“Fuck, Cir!”

Cirrus places a kiss to your mound and looks up at you with devilish eyes.

“Only just getting started, angel.”

Before you can say anything else she’s on you, tongue splitting you open. She doesn’t touch your clit - not right away - instead content to tease at its hood while you twist in her grip. Briefly, she abandons it and slides down to your entrance where your slick accumulates for her pleasure. When she abruptly slides her tongue into your entrance, you shout her name. Slowly she begins to fuck you with her tongue as her fingers put a bruising grip on your hips.

“So good, Cirrus, fuck.”

She chuckles against your cunt and the vibrations make your hips buck sharply against her. Cirrus pulls away but brings a finger to your hole to tease at it as she looks up at you.

“Think I can do more than make you cum, babygirl,” she muses as she toys with your cunt, “think I can do much better than that.”

“Yeah?” you’re desperately trying to regain your composure but as Cirrus’ long finger begins to slide into you your voice wavers.

“Think I’ll ruin you,” Cirrus says simply, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Think when I’m done with you no one’s fingers, tongue, strap, or cock will be good enough for you.”

You laugh, high pitched and exaltant, and look down at the ghoulette between your legs. Her hair is mussed, her eyes wild and for a thrilling moment you’re almost scared of her. You know, in this moment, that this infernal creature can and will absolutely devastate you. You barely even notice that she’s slipped a second finger inside you and buried them knuckle-deep until her stare makes you clench around her. Cirrus grins, wide and sharp at that as she slowly begins pistoning the digits in and out of you. The noises coming from your cunt are lewd and delightful, causing Cirrus to chuckle as you writhe under her touch. Suddenly, she lowers her lips back to you and when she circles and sucks your clit into her mouth, you buck against her hand taking her even deeper.

“That’s it, angel,” Cirrus breathes, watching you slowly come undone beneath her touch. “You’re doing so well. I think you can take three now, hmm?”

Your nod is frantic, back arched and hips grinding into her. When she slips a third long finger into your cunt, the stretch is delicious. She returns to your clit and with a smooth gesture, crooks her fingers inside of you to brush against that sweet spongy spot. Little lights dance in your vision as she ruthlessly sucks at your clit and massages that spot inside you. You can feel something coming, feel the pressure in your hips that slides off your spine and tightens your muscles. The pace at which her fingers and mouth move are unreal, determined to get you off. And get you off she does. With a high pitched, mounting moan your hips twitch violently against her mouth, your cries echoing in the small living room. You feel as if your heart and lungs are going to burst forth from your ribcage as wave after wave of warm pleasure crashes down upon you. You’re not sure how long it takes you to come back into your body by when you do, Cirrus is still between your legs grinning like a cat that got the canary. All of a sudden you’re aware of the sopping wet warmth that has settled in between your legs and how much of it is on Cirrus’ beautiful face.

“I…I did that?”

Cirrus laughs, high and sweet, as she licks her fingers clean one by one.

“You sure did, baby. Such a good girl, squirting for me and everything. I told you I’d do it.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, flopping back down onto the pillows. Abandoning the space in between your legs she joins you up top and regards you with a smug, yet fond, grin.

“Cirrus…that was…”

“Hmm?”

“Wow. I’d let you keep me as a pet if it meant I got that out of it.”

The words come out of your mouth before you realize what you’re actually saying and Cirrus pulls back to look at you.

“Don’t say that, little lamb,” she breathes, hand ghosting over the curves of your body. “Don’t get my hopes up like that.”

“Get your hopes up like what?” you ask, eyes trained on the ceiling, “I meant it.”

It takes Cirrus two minutes to stand and scoop you up in her arms, heading towards the door that leads to the ghouls’ bedrooms.

“Hope you don’t have anything planned the next few days,” Cirrus says conversationally as she takes you down the hallway to her door, “because I have no intention of letting you leave.”

When she tosses you on her bed, a shriek of delight squeaks out of you.

Fuck, you loved girl’s night.

[scientia-rex]

Still thinking about the person who said in reblogs of my post on how exercise doesn't lead to weight loss (but is good for you anyway) that "when I see an obese person all I see is a lazy fat fuck" and people are still... trying to engage with that person? Like, good on you, but they've loudly announced that a) they don't intend to change their demonstrably false worldview because b) they don't see fat people as fully human.

A whole lot of conversation around fatphobia has become better at hiding that over time. "It's about health!" is the rallying cry. But the simple fact that the behaviors that lead to health do it regardless of whether they lead to weight loss gives the lie to that statement. It's never been about health when people openly show their disgust at being near a fat person in public. It's about having someone to feel better than, feel morally superior to, feel more valuable than.

If you back up to the start, if you challenge your own assumptions, if you say Every single human life has the same value, even if I feel disgust at something about it, if you accept that fat people and felons and the elderly and people with visible disabilities like missing limbs are all humans and therefore you and they are equally valuable, if you accept that a child is a person and has the same level of internal complexity and depth as an adult and deserves to be treated with respect, if you start to act like you believe that even if you can't quite make yourself yet, deep down--you find a whole different world out there. And you need to find things to love about yourself besides being better than someone else. That can be hard, but it's so, so worthwhile.

Because that's the truth. And truth is worth looking for, even if it takes a lifetime.

[wwaheoh]

"Mara-struck", Jing Yuan x gnReader (+Yanqing, parental), SFW, Angst no Comfort

c/w: Descriptions of body mutation, blood, cannibalism, and death.

a/n: i should probably make something happier next time

The day that all long-lived Xianzhou natives were cursed finally arrived to take Jing Yuan. It was unexpected, the sickness of Mara quickly overtaking the beloved general over the course of only a day.

That morning you had bid your dear farewell, rising early in the morning, setting breakfast and preparing yourself for another day aboard the Xianzhou Luofu as it hurled through space. Greeting Yanqing as he worked through his daily training, a new sword in his hand. He had grown into a fine young man and was excited to show off his swordsmanship and newest addition to his collection to the General.

As you set the table, you felt sturdy hands on your shoulders, the serene, warm smell that came from Jing Yuan filling your noise, the resting weight of a muscular man clinging onto you. His warmth radiated as he rested his head on yours. “Good morning my love,” His voice, deep and gravelly from just waking up, “Smells wonderful. Sleep well?”

You giggled, “Of course, I cooked it.” Returning his hug, you had to gently pry him off of you, lest he fall asleep again on you and leave breakfast to get cold. He sat across from you, steaming tea accompanied by a traditional Xianzhou breakfast sat prepared on the table. Birds chirped serenely as the sky slowly faded from the colorful night sky to a deep purple, blazing orange on the horizon.

The two of you spoke of pleasantries, plans for today, and events upcoming. Yanqing had joined you both midway through, having taken a shower and eating. It was picture perfect, ending with you bidding them farewell as they left to attend to their official matters as General and Retainer. Jing Yuan nearly tripped over his feet as he left, taking a second and continuing forward, chuckling at the small incident.

-

It was now afternoon. You prepared lunch for the two, still steaming, freshly made. You had found Yanqing first, finding him to be running drills on the Cloud Soldiers, voice full of strength and purpose. Until he turned and yelped, surprised at your sudden appearance. Grateful, he accepted the lunch you prepared, waving goodbye with that smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks and gush about how adorable he was. He turned, seeing the Cloud Knights watching his interaction with you, before once again falling into that voice that commanded respect, ordering them to run another drill.

You made your way to the gates of the Seat of Divine Foresight. With a quick identity check and screening, you made your way to the small garden where you’d know Jing Yuan would be.

It was… eerily quiet. Much more than usual. Usually you’d hear birds chirping, maybe the occasional sound of someone chattering from the other room. But nothing, only the lazy trails of water than run through the garden.

That was until you entered his office, seeing Jing Yuan sitting on his desk. Originally you had thought he’d fallen asleep, like he often did during his day at work. But as you got closer, you noticed an off smell. The smell of bark, wood. There were branches growing from him, golden leaves decorating his hair. His eyes were open, staring directly at you with hauntingly cold eyes.

You scrambled, your legs failing you, leading to you on the ground. “Help!” Voice echoing through the corridors as the being formerly known as Jing Yuan made its way closer. It charged, hands clawing at your skin, tearing it with the strength of a beast. Blood pooled under you as you struggled, unable to pry the monster off of you. He tore into your flesh, until you passed out from the blood loss, with your soul passing on soon after.

-

Yanqing burst through the door, swords at the ready. He was greeted by a scene he would never be able to scrub from his mind. The mara-struck formerly known as Jing Yuan, beloved general and adoptive father of his. And the corpse of his lover, adoptive parent to Yanqing. Your screams echoed through his mind, blood staining the walls.

It was a brutal fight, leaving Yanqing bedridden for weeks under the care of Bailu. What started as a beautiful day, ended with two graves and a son taking the mantle far sooner than what was wished upon him.

[macgyvermedical]

can you talk a little about wegovy and muonjaro for weight loss?

The answer is maybe.

If it were just the drugs themselves, I'd say absolutely. But there is a surprising amount of cultural baggage associated with these medications, and I don't really know that I can do them justice.

So first, let's talk about weight. There's a fantastic book called "Fat Talk" by Virginia Sole-Smith, about being overweight or obese in an age that prioritizes thinness, and how diet culture in particular is a threat to young people. Another, called "Intuitive Eating" by Elyse Resch, discusses how calorie restriction- commonly cited as the "way" to lose weight along with exercise- only works once or twice, because our bodies get wise to it and want to hold onto fat.

Humans evolved to gain weight. Fat is how we store energy for times when we might not have enough to eat. And if "not having enough to eat" (whether because of famine or because of calorie restrictive dieting) happens repeatedly, we have evolved to change hormones and metabolism so we a) don't need as much food to stay alive and b) are primed to eat more food than we need when it is available.

Aren't human bodies cool?

In the medical world, there are a lot of things tied to weight. For example, statistically, being overweight or obese means you're more likely to have health conditions like high blood pressure, diabetes, and heart disease. It is unclear, though, if those problems are caused by the weight itself, or other dietary, activity, and behavior patterns that may also happen to contribute to the weight gain. Things like a sedentary lifestyle, frequent consumption of foods with low nutritional value, avoidance of medical care due to stigma, or even chronic calorie restrictive dieting.

Unfortunately, due to this statistical tie, there is a lot of effort made in the medical world to get patients to "lose weight at any cost" instead of recommending dietary, activity, and behavior changes for health reasons alone.

Culturally as well, we prioritize thinness as attractiveness. I remember in high school there was a poster in my health classroom that read "Ideal weight- or it might be hard to get a date!". There are lots of negative associations with people who carry more weight, including that they are lazy or stupid- things that have nothing to do with body size.

Now, that doesn't mean that there aren't things that could be benefits of losing weight. For example, joint and back pain can be improved with weight loss. But weight loss is probably not the end-all be-all cure-all it's touted to be.

Because it is really hard for most people to meet this standard of "lose weight at any cost", there has long been medications that purportedly help people lose weight. Most of these medications have been stimulants, which decrease appetite and make it more comfortable to engage in calorie restrictive dieting. They also increase energy, which can make it easier to exercise or tolerate more exercise than would otherwise be possible.

Before we talk about the drugs, I want to say- there are risks and benefits to all medications, including these! The discussion you should always have is what risks are you and your healthcare provider willing to tolerate for the potential positive outcome. Also, this is a discussion of the drugs when used for weight control. The same drugs used for diabetes are at different dosages and have potentially different risk/benefit comparisons.

Ozempic/Wegovy (semaglutide) and Mounjaro/Zepbound (tirzepatide) are both a type of medication called a GLP-1 agonist. GLP-1 agonists are also called incretin mimics, because they mimic a type of hormone (incretin) that tells the brain and body that it is full. This makes it easier to eat a small amount of high nutrition food and feel satisfied. They also work by increasing metabolism. Between the decreased consumption and the increased metabolism, weight is lost.

Over the course of a year and a half, tirzepatide causes about 15-20% average reduction in body weight with continued use. Over the course of about the same time, semaglutide causes an average of about 15% body weight reduction with continuous use. Say, for example, you weigh 100kg. A year and a half on one of these medications could get you down to 85kg.

The problem is, as soon as that drug is withdrawn, the body realizes it was starving, and tries to compensate. These drugs are good at getting rid of weight, but maintaining a new weight usually means staying on a lower dose of the drug perpetually. Most people regain all weight (and potentially more than they lost) within 5 years of stopping the drugs.

Some studies suggest that repeatedly regaining lost weight may be more detrimental to health than remaining overweight or obese when it comes to statistical risk of type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and other "weight-associated" illnesses.

The main side effects are GI-related. Most of these are nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, gas/bloating, constipation, dizziness, and abdominal pain. More severe side effects include pancreatitis (inflammation of the pancreas) and gasteroparesis (paralysis of the stomach and part of the digestive tract).

[slyscoutess]

paring: enzo vogrincic x fem!reader [ no faceclaim ] summary: your boyfriend, enzo, needs to lose a lot of weight during the filming of his new movie. You decided that you wouldn't let it be a torture for him, discovering and sharing new recipes together. writer: I always find myself thinking about Enzo talking about how it was a great time for him, the time he needed to lose weight. And I got the little idea of ​​him being quite domestic with his girlfriend, trying out those new recipes that would help with the weight loss journey.

( tradução para o português )

liked by franromerofran, vogrincicenzo, annafntoni and 123 others

yourusername It's been 84 years since this house went on a mandatory diet, mainly because I wouldn't leave Enzo completely alone in this, and now father and son are both kinda grumpy

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simonhempe pipito suffering from having to eat healthily, just like me fr

yourusername He is suffering because his father can no longer spoil him with food, gato arruinado

moratodeschini give the cat what he wants, the man I don't really care????

kuku.esteban I'm in favor of hiring pipo to act in pipe's place, almost same name

rocco.posca wtf??? Why does your breakfast seem to be tastier than it should be??

matiasrecalt My meals are so tasteless I'm thinking about throwing myself off the cabbage tree vogrincicenzo thank god is my girlfriend who cook this type of thing for me

pipegonzalezotano missing real food hour

paubaldini this seems soo good, i'm gonna ugly cry

Enzo woke up that morning with a sense of calm and determination that enveloped him like a gentle hug. The sunlight, filtered through the partly open curtains, painted the room with a golden aura, making him feel as though he were immersed in a peaceful dream. Nestled between soft sheets, he allowed his mind to adjust to waking up, absorbing the serenity that permeated the environment. The enticing aroma of coffee wafted through the air, filling him with anticipation and comfort. He knew, without needing to get up, that his girlfriend was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast with care and love. It was a ritual of connection, a way to start the day together, sharing not only meals but also dreams and aspirations.

The weight loss journey for his role in "The Snow Society" had become more than just a professional goal. It had become a central part of their lives, a shared journey that strengthened their bond and united them in a common purpose. They had embraced this journey together, facing challenges and celebrating victories side by side. Every morning, as they smelled the fresh coffee and contemplated the soft light flooding the room, they renewed their mutual commitment to care for each other and themselves. It was more than just losing weight for a role; it was about taking care of their bodies, nurturing their minds, and strengthening their relationship through mutual support and camaraderie.

With a gentle yawn, Enzo stretched in bed, letting the last remnants of sleep escape his body. Wearing his comfortable pajama shorts, he prepared for another day filled with challenges and adventures alongside his partner. Aware of the possibilities the day held, he filled himself with determination and curiosity, readily willing to face whatever came his way. As he stepped through the partly open door of the kitchen, Enzo was greeted by the familiar and comforting sound of hot water passing through the coffee filter. The welcoming aroma filled the room, enveloping him in an aura of comfort and familiarity. His girlfriend was focused, her skilled hands carefully cutting fresh fruits, ready to compose the perfect breakfast. The morning ritual of preparing the first meal of the day together was a tangible expression of their love and mutual commitment.

As he watched his partner work with skill, Enzo couldn't help but smile at Pipo, the couple's lazy cat, elegantly stretched out on the counter, lazily watching the kitchen activity. The feline was a constant presence in their lives, bringing comfort and joy with its serene and indolent personality. Enzo approached the counter, enveloping his girlfriend in a hug from behind, planting a loving kiss on her neck. The atmosphere was imbued with a tranquil serenity, as if the very air were suffused with an aura of peace. The gentle clinking of knives cutting fresh fruit was the only sound breaking the silence, creating a delicate and comforting melody that filled the kitchen. Enzo, entering quietly, contemplated the scene with a sense of calm and admiration.

His girlfriend was immersed in her work, her graceful and precise movements revealing the dedication and care she put into each task, not only in meal preparation but also in nurturing their relationship. Every fruit cut was executed with a mastery that denoted years of practice and love for the culinary arts. Enzo watched her with a sparkle in his eyes, marveling at his partner's skill and grace. It was as if she were dancing among the ingredients, moving with a natural harmony and fluidity that captivated his heart. In her delicate gestures, he saw not only a master in the kitchen but also a committed companion intent on making every shared moment special and meaningful.

As the sunlight gently spilled through the window, illuminating the scene with golden hues, Enzo felt inundated with a sense of gratitude and tenderness. That was the essence of the life they had built together: simple moments, yet laden with love and mutual care. And in that moment, as he stood there, silently admiring her, Enzo knew there was no place he'd rather be than by her side, sharing every small moment of the journey they had chosen to walk together.

Enzo felt a comforting warmth spread through his chest as he wrapped his girlfriend in a hug from behind, his arms enveloping her with tenderness and protection. The delicate scent emanating from her enveloped him like an invisible embrace, flooding his senses with a feeling of familiarity and love. She was more than his partner; she was his anchor amidst the storms of life, his source of comfort and strength in times of adversity. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Enzo allowed himself to sink into that moment of shared intimacy, letting himself be carried away by the comforting sensation of being with the person he loved. Each beat of his heart seemed to echo the deep bond they shared, strengthening their connection and renewing his determination to face the challenges that lay ahead.

As his arms embraced his girlfriend, Enzo felt her gently interrupt the fruit cutting, her fingers sliding down his arm with a gentle caress. It was as if she could read his thoughts, sharing not only his concerns about the necessary weight loss for the role but also his determination to make this journey as bearable and rewarding as possible for both of them. It was in moments like these, surrounded by the calm of the morning and the comforting presence of each other, that Enzo found strength and inspiration to keep moving forward. Knowing they had each other to lean on, to share the joys and burdens of life, was an invaluable gift that he would never cease to cherish.

Enzo knew well that she had delved headfirst into extensive research, consulting nutritionists and exploring various approaches to diet and weight loss. Every article read, every conversation with experts, was an incessant quest for knowledge, an attempt to find the most effective and healthy path to achieve their goals. Her determination was palpable, and Enzo deeply admired her tireless dedication. Together, they had turned all that knowledge into action, developing a carefully crafted meal plan. Every meal was meticulously planned, ensuring they received all the necessary nutrients to sustain their bodies during the intense weight loss process. However, the plan wasn't just about nutritional aspects; they also made sure that each dish was an enjoyable gastronomic experience, preserving the taste and pleasure of food.

Enzo felt a profound sense of gratitude for having such a dedicated and loving partner by his side. She not only shared their goals but also invested her time and energy to ensure they achieved success together. It was a clear demonstration of the mutual commitment they nurtured, not only regarding weight loss but also in building and strengthening their relationship. As the comforting aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, Enzo took a moment to appreciate the tranquility of the moment. There, next to his partner, he knew that no matter how challenging the road ahead might be, they would be together.

liked by pipegonzalezotano, matiasrecalt, paulabaldini and 104 others

yourusername Today's lunch featured seafood, and for dessert, Enzo stole tangerines from the neighbor and pretended it was normal (which it probably is for him, since we don't buy tangerines and he's always eating one).

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kuku.esteban Tomorrow it will be in all the newspapers in Latin America: Uruguayan actor steals mixiricas and an INCAPABLE elderly man

vongrincicenzo incapable is me, that old man is in excellent condition

franromerofran stop immediately, you are prohibited from posting delicious food

yourusername that's my boyfriend fran franromerofran STOP

pipegonzalezotano NO MORE SALAD I BEG YOU

rocco.posca Another day, another desire to live in the Vogrincic house

feliperamusiomora petition for enzo to let us sleep on his couch vogrincicenzo petition denied, and don't listen to nena, she shouldn't agree

agustinpardella I can smell the shrimp in the photo, I'm going crazy

alfosinacarrocio I'm stopping in front of your house immediately

Enzo was sitting on the balcony of the apartment, immersed in his lines as he reviewed the script for his next project. The golden afternoon sun bathed the surroundings, gently warming his face and illuminating the space around him. The warm breeze blew softly, carrying with it the fresh scent of flowers from the garden below.

However, even amidst his concentration, something caught his attention. His eyes diverted from the paper and fixed on the tangerine trees in the front house. It was a simple yet captivating sight. The branches laden with small citrus fruits swayed gently in the wind, creating a delicate and mesmerizing dance. That old house had always held a charm over Enzo since he and his girlfriend moved into the apartment. The weathered walls and windows adorned with lace curtains evoked a sense of nostalgia and romance that he simply adored. But it was the tangerine trees that truly fascinated him.

Every time he looked at those small bushes, Enzo was transported to a place of tranquility and calm. With determination, Enzo carefully placed Pipo, his sleepy cat that was on his lap, onto the balcony table. He felt the slight weight of the feline transfer to the wood as he rose, ready to venture out. The sun still gently bathed the surroundings, casting playful shadows across the furniture.

Enzo leaned, but did not close, the balcony door silently, letting the cat enjoy the fresh air as he ventured outside. Passing through the kitchen, a delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped him. His girlfriend, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and denim shorts, was focused on preparing lunch. Her hair fell casually over her shoulders as she skillfully stirred a pot. A wave of desire washed over him as he saw her there, so natural and beautiful in the simplicity of that everyday moment. Enzo felt an intense urge to approach her, to envelop her in his arms and whisper words of love. But he resisted, knowing he had a mission to accomplish that day.

With a discreet smile on his lips, Enzo restrained himself, averting his gaze with determination. With careful steps, he left the house and closed the door with a gentle click, ensuring there was no noise to disturb the tranquility inside. The wood of the door fit perfectly into the frame, as if cooperating with his intention to leave without attracting attention.

As the sun began to bathe the kitchen with its golden rays, the current cook of the house began to feel the gentle touch of Pipo sliding down her leg. She was surprised by the cat's presence there, knowing that at that time, he would probably be enjoying the sun on the balcony with Enzo. With a curious smile, she bent down to pet the feline and asked in a soft voice, "What are you doing here, Pipo? Where's your dad?" Pipo looked at her with his large curious eyes but made no sound in response. His tail moved slowly from side to side, as if subtly communicating something.

Intrigued, the woman picked up the cat and decided to investigate. With light steps and the cat nestled between her arms, she headed to the balcony, where she hoped to find her boyfriend. Upon reaching the glass door that separated the kitchen from the outdoor space, a gentle breeze caressed her face, bringing with it the fresh scent of plants and flowers. Her eyes scanned the balcony, looking for Enzo, but he wasn't there. She furrowed her brow, confused by his absence, but her heart warmed at the tranquil and serene scene before her. The sun's rays painted everything with golden hues, creating an atmosphere of peace and serenity.

With a contented sigh, Enzo's girlfriend approached the table, where Pipo used to settle next to his boyfriend. She imagined Enzo there, immersed in his thoughts or perhaps reviewing the script while the cat slept peacefully by his side. Realizing that Enzo wasn't on the balcony, his girlfriend began to search for him, talking to Pipo as she looked around. "Where did your dad go?" she muttered, while the cat meowed in response, as if trying to help in the search.

Her gaze eventually found Enzo in the front house, using his t-shirt to make a basket and pick tangerines from the neighbor's tree. With a playful smile, she greeted the man who lived in the house, saying, "Good morning, Mr. Oliveira!"

Enzo, surprised by his girlfriend's sudden appearance, quickly looked up and, in doing so, lost his balance, dropping some of the fruits he had picked, feeling somewhat embarrassed as he tried to retrieve the tangerines that had rolled out of the makeshift basket. His girlfriend chuckled softly at the situation, approaching to help him gather the fallen fruits. Enzo smiled, feeling relieved that it was just another playful joke from his beloved, until the voice of the neighboring gentleman emerged not as distant as he would have liked. "Good morning, dear, how's your afternoon going?" he addressed the neighbor with a wave, working in his garden not so far from the tangerine trees. Enzo's eyes widened quickly; it was clear that she would know about it, taking time to talk to her neighbor when she wasn't working and Enzo wasn't home. Enzo and his girlfriend looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile before Enzo quickly ran back to his apartment, leaving the freshly picked tangerines on the kitchen counter. Upon arriving home, he found his girlfriend still chatting with the neighbor on the balcony. He smiled to see her so comfortable but decided to surprise her and continue playing the role of the good guy to the old man who lived in the house across the street.

With light steps, Enzo pretended to leave the house for the first time that day, yawning exaggeratedly and stretching as he approached her from behind. The gentle breeze played with his hair as he approached, his loose t-shirt adorning his body casually. One of his hands slid gently to her waist, while the other stretched in a theatrical yawn. He leaned in to gently kiss the top of her head, his lips brushing lightly against her hair as he spoke.

"Ah, good morning, babe," he murmured sleepily, trying to maintain a tone of surprise in his voice. "Good morning, Mr. Oliveira!" his voice now a bit louder, as he greeted the neighbor, waving gently to him, who waved back. His girlfriend turned with a smile on her lips as she felt Enzo's touch, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she realized what he was doing, deciding to play along. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she replied, laughing softly. "Are you aware that it's already lunchtime?"

Enzo laughed, feeling happy to be sharing that relaxed moment with her. "You know how it is, I was up late last night, it was reealy hard to sleep," he joked, gently squeezing his girlfriend's waist in a loving gesture. The neighbor, who was watching the scene with a friendly smile, once again drew the couple's attention, engaging in a new conversation with the woman, occasionally bringing up Enzo, who, in turn, smiled at the neighbor, conveying an impression of courtesy and friendliness, but his thoughts were fully focused on the woman by his side.

Unable to resist the growing desire within him, Enzo let his hands slowly descend to her hips, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, which soon wandered to one side of her ass, still pretending normalcy, as if listening to the whole conversation. He gently squeezed it, conveying a subtle signal of possessiveness and affection as the conversation continued. Time seemed to slow down as they exchanged words with the neighbor, but inside, Enzo was eager for the moment when they would be alone again. Each touch, each glance exchanged with his girlfriend only heightened his longing for her.

As Enzo enveloped his girlfriend in a passionate embrace, she gently interrupted the effusive exchange of affection to address a few words to the neighbor, who was still watching from below. "Mr. Oliveira, I think it's time for lunch. Let's resume this conversation later, okay?" she said, smiling at the man as she slowly moved away from Enzo's embrace.

The neighbor nodded understandingly. "Of course, no problem! See you later, kids," he replied with a friendly smile before heading back to his house. With the brief interaction concluded, Enzo's girlfriend turned to him, ready to resume the moment of intimacy they had interrupted. However, before she could say anything, she felt Enzo's head bury into her neck, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

She sighed softly, feeling a shiver run down her spine with the light kisses Enzo left on her neck. It was a simple gesture, but filled with affection and tenderness, which made her feel loved and desired. The kisses gradually turned into nibbles, causing the woman to lean back into her boyfriend's warm touch, who in turn pressed his hips more against hers, his lips delicately moving to her ear. "Let's go inside, babe, I need to eat something…" he whispered in her ear, his voice husky and incredibly endearing, he knew well when and how to use it. "Lunch is ready, we can serve ourselves now, my love," she commented. Enzo chuckled playfully at her response, squeezing her more in his arms with tenderness. "Always thinking about food, huh?" He said with a teasing smile, his lips gently brushing against her neck as he spoke. "But I think I can make an effort not to completely exhaust you, after all, the smell of lunch is so good that it would be a sin not to enjoy it later," he whispered, before pulling her back into the house again.

liked by agustinpardella, kuku.esteban, paulabaldini and 113 others

yourusername Time to replenish some shortages in the fridge, and Pipito decided he didn't want to leave Enzo's lap, or was it Enzo who decided not to let go of the cat?

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moratodeschini Living or just waiting for the moment when I'll steal Enzo's cat and girl?

vongrincicenzo please don't feliperamusiomora I'm right here, you know?

simonhempe pipito just living the life I dream of

yourusername you dream abou my boyfriend's lap? vogrincicenzo I also dream about u

pipegonzalezotano your fridge must be very sad

rocco.posca just waiting for her to decide what they are going to eat for dinner so she can give me the drive with the recipes for my menu for tomorrow

matiasrecalt Rocco said something about uploads a recipe drive every night, nena send it to me

kuku.esteban It's good that you went out shopping and aren't stealing from other people's houses

agustinpardella Who's to say they didn't steal from the market? jeronimogiocondobosia and tomorrow in the daily newspaper . . .

As Enzo and his partner walked through the aisles filled with shelves brimming with colorful and aromatic ingredients, a package of pasta caught her attention. With a smile on her lips, she picked it up, displaying it with a curious gaze. "What kind of sauce do you prefer today, love?" Her voice carried a note of curiosity, as if she were ready to venture into creating a new dish. Enzo, staring at the package with anticipation in his eyes, considered for a moment before replying, his smile widening as he imagined the flavors blending perfectly.

"How about a well-seasoned tomato sauce?" he suggested, his mind already running through the steps to prepare the dish. He could visualize the fresh tomatoes being cut into juicy pieces, the aroma of garlic browning in the pan, and the spices dancing around, ready to transform the simple pasta into a culinary masterpiece. His partner nodded with a smile of approval and said softly, "You know, I was thinking, we could try that recipe we saw on TikTok? It looked delicious and would be a great option for breakfast."

Enzo smiled, agreeing with the idea. "We can do that tomorrow morning. I think it will be a perfect way to start the day." As they continued to wait in line at the checkout, Enzo felt a comforting warmth as he held his partner's hand. It was a simple gesture, but it filled his heart with love and gratitude. He realized how lucky he was to have someone so special by his side.

Enzo looked at his partner and said with a sincere smile, "You always have the best ideas . . ." He quickly heard his girlfriend's laughter, as she hugged onto his arm, a great deal of affection in her laughter. As they waited in the checkout line, the tranquil atmosphere of the market seemed to envelop them in a cocoon of intimacy. Enzo felt her body heat drawing closer, and before he could realize it, she gently rested her face on his shoulder, their gazes meeting in a moment of complicity. Her eyes sparkled with tenderness as they looked at him, conveying a feeling of affection and connection that filled Enzo's heart with a sweet sensation of love. He could feel the warmth of her breath, each beat of her heart seemed to echo in perfect harmony with his own. Without thinking too much, Enzo let his instincts guide his actions. With an almost instinctive gentleness, he leaned forward slightly, capturing her lips in a quick and delicate kiss. It was a simple gesture, but full of meaning, an expression of affection that spoke volumes without the need for words. Her lips responded to the touch, their hearts dancing in unison, sealing the moment with a sweet promise of mutual love and unconditional support. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, lost in their own little universe of affection and love.

"I have to start changing supermarkets," Enzo and his partner were immersed in their own world, lost in the sweet moment they shared, when a familiar voice interrupted their bubble of intimacy. It was the lively voice of Matias Recalt, certainly the couple's best and closest friend, approaching with a shopping basket. "A little modesty, please," exclaimed Matias, with a playful smile on his face. Enzo and his partner quickly separated, blushing slightly at the surprise of being caught in such an intimate moment. They exchanged quick glances, sharing a shy smile before greeting Matias. "Hi, Matias!" said Enzo, trying to disguise his surprise. "How are you?" Matias laughed, noticing the slight tension in the air. "Sorry for interrupting your romantic moment. I hope I was being intrusive!" The woman laughed, shaking her head. "Don't worry, Matias, we just got a little distracted." Enzo agreed, relieved to see Matias's easygoing nature. "Oh, didn't even notice."

As they waited in the checkout line, the conversation between the three flowed naturally, as it always did when they were together. Matias shared some funny stories about his day, and Enzo couldn't help but laugh, while his partner smiled, enjoying the friends' banter.

Meanwhile, they went through their purchases, each carrying their baskets towards the checkout. The atmosphere was light and relaxed, and Enzo felt grateful for the presence of their friends. When it was finally their turn at the checkout, Matias bid them farewell with a wave, wishing them a good night. Enzo and his partner thanked him for the enjoyable encounter and exchanged more smiles before heading out of the market.

The cool night air enveloped them as they exited, and Enzo and his girlfriend walked together towards their parked bicycles. They intertwined their hands, a simple yet meaningful connection that symbolized the support and affection they shared.

"And that would be another almost end of the day," said Enzo, looking at his partner with a smile. She nodded, agreeing. "Yes, even though it was interrupted at the end."

Enzo laughed, agreeing with her. "True, I found it funny he wrote down everything you bought so he could cook tomorrow." They reached their bicycles and, together, mounted them, ready to head back home.

liked by matiasrecalt, blaspolidori, dellagustin and 109 others

yourusername Ending the day with the cast on The Sims.

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blaspolidori enzo playing himself playing on the sims

yourusername he was planning our wedding vogrincicenzo and you're the flower boy, blas

simonhempe everyone of the cast?

yourusername there are some that are not filmbayona I am? yourusername yes, but you mysteriously starved

pipegonzalezotano tell me that at least then I'm watching football eating real meat

rocco.posca I hope you downloaded a mod for my hair

matiasrecalt I love this game I'm the same height as blas

moratodeschini should we tell Enzo that she has wicked whims??

alfosinacarrocio let's wait for the reaction vogrincicenzo guys . . . it was so much out of nowhere

After a peaceful and comforting night, Enzo and his girlfriend decided to spend some time together playing The Sims. Sitting comfortably on his lap, she skillfully held the mouse while he watched attentively at the computer screen, immersed in the virtual world unfolding before them. Together, they built a small fictional community with characters from the movie cast, with every detail carefully planned to reflect their tastes and personalities. Enzo was fascinated watching his girlfriend's creativity flow as she decorated the houses, chose the furniture, and planned the sims' careers. It was as if they were creating their own world, where they could escape the daily worries and get lost in imaginary adventures.

As she delved into the game, Enzo appreciated the opportunity to simply observe her, marveling at how her expression brightened with every achievement and challenge overcome. Feeling the warmth of her presence on his lap was comforting, a constant reminder of the love and companionship they shared. Enzo watched closely at the computer screen as his girlfriend manipulated the game controls. Suddenly, an interaction between the sim representing him and the one representing his girlfriend caught his attention. He watched with fascination as the sims exchanged gestures of affection, somehow reflecting the dynamics of their own relationship.

However, his surprise soon turned to shock when suddenly the game activated a mod known as Wicked Whims. His face twisted in a expression of surprise and confusion as he witnessed the explicitly romantic interactions between the sims, far beyond what he was used to seeing in the game. Turning to his girlfriend, who was still comfortably seated on his lap, Enzo asked incredulously, "What's going on? Is this how the game is now?" His voice carried a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. She simply smiled gently, noticing his confusion. With a reassuring touch on his shoulder, she explained that this was not the game in its original form, but rather a fan-made modification to add a new layer of realism and complexity to the sims' interactions."Oh, so our reality is to just start hooking up out of nowhere?"

"It's not like you can keep those hands off me…" Enzo chuckled at his girlfriend's response. His laughter was a mix of relief and amusement as he settled comfortably in the chair, his hands automatically gently squeezing her waist, as if seeking closer contact to dispel the surprise. As his fingers lightly caressed her waist, Enzo felt comforted by her presence on his lap. "Apparently she's eating for two now… maybe we could try that out here too, right nena?"

[listentoace]

Hey, I wanted to address a couple of things.

I have been receiving several asks regarding some of my recent posts. I admit they are darker than the usual stuff. That was a decision I consciously made, because I do tend to have darker fantasies and wanted to see how they would be received. I consider most of the criticism I received to be valid points. Here are a few of them:

The whole idea of "ruining yourself"/"ruining your body" as you're gaining weight can be found fatphobic

Connecting feederism to habitual behavior, addiction, loss of control, and even brain damage can be found scary or even disturbing

Encouraging people to embrace health issues (both physical and mental) because of feederism can be found toxic

Constantly connecting feederism and weight gain with the negative side effects (sluggishness and laziness, health issues, societal judgement, etc.) can lead to the conclusion that feederism, obesity, indulgence, etc. are generally bad things

I won't try to defend myself. In fact, I completely agree with (most) criticism I received. The only kind of "criticism" I don't recognize are attacks toward me personally, but that's just reflected in a minority of the asks I receive. To all people who have sent me asks: it's great that you're sharing your opinion and thoughts, and I encourage you to keep doing so!

I think it is necessary to mention again that I don't mean anyone any harm. I am not fatphobic, and I do not mean to force any kinks upon anyone. This is just me writing and recording some horny ideas I occasionally have for those people who are into the same stuff. It is also very important to mention that in many cases, the fantasy of something can be very hot, while the reality of it could be very stressful and traumatizing. This is especially the case with more intense fantasies and kinks, e.g., being kidnapped and fattened. Everything I write takes place in "fantasy land". Nothing I post is meant as a threat, actual encouragement for dangerous behavior or self harm, or other harmful behavior. Pleae keep this in mind!

Getting back to the criticism: Yes, I like the dark stuff. I am very intrigued by the idea of feedees getting fatter for pleasure, despite all the negative consequences that can come with weight gain and obesity. I also enjoy calling people out for it, both with mild teasing and with very direct "you're damaging yourself" claims. I know that this is not everybody's cup of tea, which is why I already tag all posts with darker topics related to self-destruction, severe health issues, permanent damage and even death with "#death feederism" and "#death feedist". This is also mentioned in my pinned info post under "My Content", encouraging people to hide these tags who are not into certain content I post. However, it is quite clear that this isn't a great solution – otherwise I would not be receiving these asks.

I am very open to solving this issue together. After all, it always has been my personal ambition to write and record content for your enjoyment and pleasure. I want to make you – the readers and listeners – feel good and excited. I don't mean to scare or disturb you with my darker fantasies and kinks that don't appeal to you. Nonetheless, I do enjoy causing "holy shit, this is really bad, but it just feels so good!" pleasure and horniness.

In the past, I occasionally made use of trigger warnings at the top of my posts. If I recall correctly, I did hide the main content behind the "Keep reading" button. This was not consistent, but I am open to generally implementing this for all future posts that include sensitive subjects, such as death feederism, consensual non-consent, heavy conditioning and brain damage, or severe degradation and objectification.

However, before I do that, I first wanted to recognize the asks I received and open the conversation by addressing these issues. I encourage you to share your thoughts on this with me in the comments, asks, or my dms. Please let me know whether you think the combination of a trigger warning and a "Keep reading" button is sufficient and reasonable. I will still be tagging my posts accordingly, like I've done in the past, so filtering through hiding certain hashtags will remain an option either way.

I'm looking forward to your feedback and ideas, thank you for the criticism! :)

[cherubchoirs]

REALLY got hit with the line "Now this is a fight worthy of God's Will" and I need to talk about its significance, because it was always interesting to me that it's spoken by Gabriel as the Apostate of Hate. It comes in the second half of the fight in Heresy and while that one is incredibly interesting for the character development it shows in Gabriel, I’ve been thinking more and more about the encounter in Gluttony and just how the two are linked together. I discussed Gabriel’s nature as a warrior in detail here, but in short, he is a being made to fight for God, the battlefield being a holy place for him and where he fully connects to himself as an angel and to God as he fulfills his service to Him. It lights the divine spark within him, it is what causes his passion to burn fully bright and he is completely Gabriel, the Strength of God, in those moments. So where must he be when V1 meets him within Gluttony, what can he be feeling when he has fought thousands upon thousands of machines? There is no honor in these battles, there is no real victory, and Gabriel is growing dull, numb, devoid of any meaning. The machines are beneath him, they offer no challenge and they lack the capacity to recognize him as the angelic warrior that he is. His knightly virtue is smothered, stagnant, his very soul bled dry by mindless engagement after mindless engagement. He is totally disconnected from the self, an angel without their divine purpose and instead acting as a punch clock exterminator.

When V1 arrives, it’s the same despite a flashy entrance – He is more mechanical than his opponent, relying on automatic, rote tactics and repetitive maneuvers. He gets away with it for a bit, so thoughtless that he even pauses in his taunts as his pride dimly flickers to life, V1’s own movements clumsy and poorly timed due to facing an angel for the first time. But V1 is fully engaged, V1 is tuned to every movement that Gabriel makes, the data he nearly hand feeds it – every second its AI is learning, devouring each pattern and quickly mapping out Gabriel’s now own mindless motions. Soon, it’s landing hits, soon he isn’t, soon something starts to feel off. Halfway through the battle, something is wrong. It clicks for Gabriel when he begins to bleed and it seems V1 isn’t harmed. It’s still the same machine? How long had they been fighting? Confusion overwhelms him as he attempts strike after strike and V1 dodges with ease, why can’t he hit it? Why is it still here? The only answer he can flail for is anger, to burst into a rage when the battle refuses to bend to his will, to end. He had gotten sloppy, lazy. Battle, the one thing that connected him directly to God, that was his divine purpose and made him Gabriel, has become so automatic he’s blocking it out. The fire is gone. It enrages him, he flies into a fury at V1, this stupid robot that won’t die and becomes the avatar of his dead passion. A corpse with a pulse, an angel reduced to pantomiming the purpose God gave him against endless mechanical dolls, why, why, what’s happened to him? Nothing is real, he realizes he can’t remember any of the fights he’s had against these machines and his hands have been empty of his true, heaven-forged swords for each one of them. And in his rage, in his furious motions, as he’s consumed with how pointless and ridiculous he looks fighting this minuscule machine, his body falls to the floor, bleeding. His wings support his weight no longer, and every muscle refuses to obey him. He’s lost. Everything is empty, he shouts and throws a fit in utter shock, but has he truly burned down to ash?

And when he returns in Heresy, he is choked with his own anger, his grief, at his failure but too at his total loss of connection to himself, to his God. God, now dead in reality and dead in his own soul. There is nothing left, and so he doesn’t even have a choice in becoming an apostate angel, God is dead and he can no longer even feel him. V1 enters as the avatar of that loss, burns in his mind as a last desperate attempt to claw back the shreds of what’s left of Gabriel and he initially believes he must kill it to do so. To know God’s warrior isn’t fully burned away. But then a change happens again halfway through the battle, that primal spark lights and his wings bloom into brilliant gold and indigo, ecstatic. He is wielding his swords once more, they form into his hands and he is bleeding despite pouring what’s left of his strength and passion into this last battle. V1 meets him, it learns every second and it dances in perfect time with him, a true, real battle, after all the years of the Council bleeding that passion dry. “Now this is a battle worthy of God’s will” he shouts as a man risen from the dead – V1 lights him again as the angel he had forgotten he was even with the light now torn from him, his identity is restored even as he falls and V1 moves him as God once moved him – it changes one last time into the avatar of the God he lost. This is war, this is what he was handmade for...and it has been absent for so long. This machine restores him as Gabriel, returns his love and his passion and his divine ecstasy without the need for anything else – he is Gabriel once again even without God, without his light. It’s thrilling, exhilarating, what else could he do but fall in love when he is given his self back, when he is given the chance to be everything he is without being used by another?