#my diet is all homemade

[darkwood-sleddog]

Man some dog folk will really take the basic question asked by vet techs: “what do you feed?” as “my vet is trying to SELL me on this other garbage food!!11”. Really bothers me.

#dogblr #did you know your vet can and should have conversations with clients #about what the dog consumes ona. daily basis??? #I’ve never met a single vet that has tried to sell me on a specific diet #besides the freee bag of kibble customarily given to all new puppy owners at my practice #nobody is forcing you to feed anything. #a vet can have concerns about the nutritional value of the raw or homemade you feed #bc that can affect dogs MEDICALLY #it is not ‘being against raw’ #anyways.

[freyaswolf]

Please stop using the word "saccharine" in your writing when you want to convey genuine sweetness. It's supposed to mean overly sweet, falsely sweet, it's chemical and phony sweet that leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Not the natural effortless sweetness of honey, but the phony performative sweetness of low calorie gum. It's someone who's only being sweet to manipulate you into thinking they're something they're not.

#jason carver is the phony saccharine sweet of diet soda #eddie munson is the brown sugar sweet of a really good homemade chocolate chip cookie #sorry my brain is all Hellcheer brainrot #writing #use your words

[ominouspuff]

Kote’s House

Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about. 

His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.

He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.

He tries to explain how wonderful it is —

“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”

—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.

Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.

Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.

“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.

“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.

He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids. 

They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time. 

Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?

Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical. 

“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.

Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.

Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.

“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept). 

“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”

Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”

Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.

He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are. 

What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.

Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.

Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that. 

He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.

“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him. 

“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.

He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill. 

“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving. 

Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.

#fan art #artists on tumblr #star wars fanart #star wars: the clone wars #fix it au #captain rex #commander cody #commander fox #commander wolffe #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka #After The War Fluff #Get you some vod that can do plumbing and make fun of your trash disposal unit #OmPu Writes: Snippet #just-typed-this-out-and-it-shows #Kote was grinning like a shark while haggling #It was terrifying #This man waged wars and he cannot wait to utilize every tactical skill he learned in that endeavor on one (1) twi’lek to negotiate the sale #-of a fix-er-upper he was going to buy anyway #First time trying this art style #Star Wars fanfic

[shinystarfishpenguin]

I'm doing meal prep for the first time in a couple weeks. Maybe that'll help with my mood.

#im making stew so a nice warm soup #with lots of veggies #that i dont normally get in my diet #so that should help too #and its homemade and made with love #lest not malcontent #and i learned from last time and i cut everything smaller #and i included a bay leaf? #ive never used bay leaves in my cooking so hopefully it works out #now its in the slow cooker low and slow all day #so hopefully thr meat gets super tender

[being-addie]

Healthy habits I'm developing for 2023

It's already April and I'm still in that rut of sleeping at 2am, buying a quick fix of candy at the store when I have fruit at home, eating too many carbs and skipping the gym. Now, I'm getting my shit together.

It's easy to disguise bad habits with excuses. "Oh, I have exams coming up". "Work's been really draining lately". But if you don't change now, you'll be stuck in that same loop for the rest of your life.

Prioritising health:

Sleeping 7-8 hours every night: To end my absolutely atrocious amount of screen time, I've decided to delete all those distracting apps on my phone. It's hard, but worth it. Now I won't be tempted to scroll on Instagram when I should be sleeping.

Making healthy food choices: Choosing homemade granola over chocolate bars, banana bread over Nutella sandwiches, and homemade nachos over packaged chips makes a huge difference.

Working out: l go to the gym daily, but lately, I've been lazy and slacking off. So I want to start going again along with squeezing in a run in the evening. Finishing at least 8k steps every day. Moving my body in some way, whether it's dance or yoga.

Water: I have a bad habit of forgetting to drink water, even when it's right in front of me. So I've downloaded some water reminders to help me remember to drink. I've also decided to incorporate lemon honey iced tea into my diet because I'm a fiend for it.

Working smart:

Creating a to-do list: Committing to knocking off at least three things on a to-do list and gradually increasing the number of tasks.

Keeping devices away: I've started keeping my phone in my mom's room while I work, or I lock it in my cupboard so I won't get distracted, and I use extensions like WasteNoTime and StayFocusd to block unnecessary websites.

Dividing time: Making a schedule for my day, so I can divide school studies, sketching practice and homework. It is so important to block out parts of the day for morning and night routines and self-care.

Cleansing my life:

A clean workspace: Clean up my desk every day, so I can sit in an uncluttered space, and keep my racing mind calm.

Making my bed: Focusing on making sure my bed is clean first thing in the morning, so I have a place that's clean and warm after a long day.

Deleting social media: It was difficult, but I did it. Fighting the temptation to log in again is real, but I'm slowly coming to realise I don't care what people are posting on their stories, and the FOMO is slowly fading.

Toxic people: Getting rid of toxic friends, and deleting numbers and chats of people are who no longer important in my life. Having access to me is a privilege.

Self-care: Every Sunday, I'm setting aside a few hours for myself. During that time, I'll be having a long shower, deep conditioning my hair, using a scrub and exfoliator, shaving, moisturizing, and eating something nice. I'll be baking something for the rest of the week so I won't resort to junk food for dessert or snacks.

Understanding and knowing what you want in life is the first step to beginning your journey. Don't let others make you feel guilty for putting yourself first. It's your life, and ultimately, it's only you who can change it.

<3

#self care #self improvement #self love #level up #level up journey #self love journey #glow up #college #tips and tricks #it girl #that girl #perfect #life

[kamaluhkhan]

all the love we had and lost

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: lots of plot + flashbacks. angst with fluff in betweem. slightly suggestive dialogue/situations but nothing more than the actual show, a guy being pushy about hooking up with reader but nothing happens, mention of injuries and blood throughout, hints of alcoholism, brief mention of dieting (reader is competitive swimmer and deals with certain pressures from that), reader gets her period, takes on too much responsibility and argues with her mother (aka eldest daughter syndrome)

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije,

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for so much love on my first conrad fic!! i'm so excited to share the rest of the series, so stay tuned :))

read part one here

the best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in the worse ways. (fredrik backman)

now — summer, age 18

you throw in some extra sprinkles, along with a few more tablespoons of sugar. belly has a huge sweet tooth. it's the night before her birthday, and you're in the kitchen at the fisher's house baking her coconut confetti cupcakes. 

born on june 21st — the summer solstice — belly conklin is the definition of a summer child. she's summer, personified: sunshine, sweet tea, sand, and smiles. having missed so many birthday celebrations, you’re determined to make this year special.

you go to the fridge to grab some eggs, and when you close the door, you're startled by the person standing behind it.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, holding a hand to your chest and setting the carton of eggs on the counter. the joy you felt making birthday cupcakes for belly fades away, replaced with a tingling in your chest. you and conrad hadn’t spoken more than three sentences to each other, or even been in the same room alone, since that morning on the beach. as the distance between the two of you grew, so did your frustration at him. 

conrad raises his eyebrow at you. he reaches around you into the fridge and pulls out a beer. 

"i should be asking you that." 

"the oven at my house is broken and your mom said i could come over."

“i’ve heard that one before,” he mumbles as he leaves the kitchen. you almost can’t believe he brought it up, even if just in a passing, somewhat snarky remark. conrad probably thought you didn’t hear.

these past few weeks, conrad hasn't just been cold towards you — which was a relief as much as it was heart wrenching. he seems more closed off in general, more inclined to spend time with others who hadn't seen him grow up. in fact, you imagine he’s on his way to see nicole now. maybe with her, he can pretend everything is fine. but not with the people in this house, who knew him inside and out.

you would never admit it — if conrad wants to ignore you, you could ignore him just fine — but it was eating you up inside, and it took everything in you not to confront him, to comfort him about whatever he was going through. you’d have arguments when you were kids, but it was nothing a ring pop or tub of cherry jello couldn’t solve. this time is different; the wound is deeper, harder to heal.

you wanted the old conrad back: the sweet boy who cared for you and let you care for him in return. 

then — summer, age 14

belly was turning 12, and you wanted to surprise her with homemade cupcakes for breakfast. only, the oven at your house was broken, which meant your intention of baking her birthday treats would have fallen through, if not for susannah’s ever-present generosity. 

everyone else was out of the house — you even asked laurel and susannah to take belly shopping to not ruin the surprise. you were decorating the cupcakes when conrad walked in from the deck. his wet hair stuck to his forehead and he was wearing a rash guard, so he probably got back from surfing. he looked paler than usual, even after being in the sun for hours, but you didn’t think much of it at first.

“hey,” he greeted, sounding slightly out of breath. “what are you doing here?” 

“the oven at my house is broken, so your mom said i can come over to bake these for belly’s birthday tomorrow.” you gestured at the clumsily decorated treats. the cupcakes had bright pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. you weren’t a professional by any means, but knew that belly would love them.

“but i’m sure she wouldn’t miss one or two, if you wanna try one,” you offered, smiling at conrad.

he smiled back, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “yeah. yeah, let’s do that. i’m just gonna get changed first.”

conrad walked past you, and that’s when you noticed him limping — along with a bloody gash just below his left knee.

you instantly dropped the spatula back into the half-empty frosting bowl.

“connie, what the hell happened?”

“i’m fine,” he answered. “i wiped out, got cut by the fin of my board.” conrad must have noticed your eyes widened with worry because he grabbed your wrist gently, thumb rubbing soothingly on your pulse point. he was bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and there he was, trying to make sure you were okay. 

“i’m fine,” he reassured. 

the blood dripping down his leg suggested otherwise. years ago conrad would faint at the sight of blood, and though he’d mostly outgrown that, you knew it still made him queasy. you imagined the pain definitely wasn’t making it easier. without another word, you pulled him into the bathroom and made him sit on the edge of the bathtub. you washed your hands then sat cross-legged in front of him.

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” he smirked as he watched you gather supplies from the cabinet underneath the sink, your brows furrowed in concentration.

“what?” you paused, almost laughing. until you saw his wound again, and you got back to work.

“it’s from the hunger games,” he explained. “when katniss finds peeta in the arena? and he’s all, like, injured.”

“well, he was definitely in worse shape than you,” you assured. “your cut’s not that deep, it just looks bad.”

“it doesn’t feel great, either.”

conrad exhaled sharply when you started applying pressure to his leg with a damp washcloth. you placed your other hand on his right knee.

“it’ll be fine, connie. i’ve got you. keep your eyes on me, okay?”

he looked down at you, wet hair framing his face as he offered a short nod. 

you gestured at him to take over, and your fingers brushed together when he grabbed the washcloth, but he never looked down. his eyes still followed you as you searched the bathroom for something to cover his wound.

a comfortable silence followed. the two of you used to spend hours talking, sure, but what you loved about spending time with conrad is that silence didn't bother him. you could each be in your own worlds while in the comfort of each other's company, and that was enough.

once the wound was cleaned and the bleeding slowed down, you placed a gauze pad over his cut before wrapping a cloth bandage around it.

“i’m pretty sure it’s ‘you here to finish me off, sweetheart?’,” you remembered.

conrad shook his head. “i’m pretty sure it’s not. i’ve read the book like, three times.”

you move to sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“how sure are you, connie? because i’m pretty damn sure.”

conrad shrugged. “i’m pretty damn sure, too.” 

you rolled your eyes, but with a smile. “okay, fine. we’ll check. but, when you see how wrong you are, you have to come with me to see jaws 2.” it was playing at the local movie theatre during their weekly throwback thursday — you and belly had seen it advertised on your way home from getting ice cream. you had wanted to ask conrad, but couldn’t find the right time.

because you hadn’t meant it to be a date, but you also hadn’t not meant it to be. something changed about how you felt towards conrad that summer; or, maybe, you just figured out what was different about the love you felt towards him compared to everyone else. 

(yes, love. again, something you would never admit.)

you thought maybe — maybe he felt it too. there was something different in the way he teased you, laughed with you, looked at you when he thought you couldn’t notice.

you did notice. it happened so much that eventually you decided that either it was all in your head and he didn’t love you that way, or he was also scared of what would happen if he did. which, to be fair, was the position you were in. you were very scared of what would happen if you crossed that line.

“i’ll agree to that,” conrad said. “if you agree to having a picnic with me on the beach. if i have to face my fear of sharks, then you have to face your fear of angry seagulls stealing your food.”

a picnic on the beach. you wondered if this was conrad’s way of subtly asking you on a date. did he also want to cross that line, become something other than friends? he looked at you so eagerly, you hoped he did.

“fine.” you held out your hand. “but you have to protect me from angry seagulls.”

conrad smiled at you brightly as he grasped your hand. 

“always.” 

in the end, conrad lost the bet. the screening of jaws 2 was cancelled, so you rented it from the video store instead. you got his favourite movie snacks, and some of yours as well, and made sure the couch had the comfiest pillows and the warmest blanket. you felt butterflies just thinking about the two of you watching together, cuddling on the couch. 

when the time came though, your plans fell through. the playdates your siblings had lined up both cancelled. your mother had plans to meet a friend at the bar, and claimed she couldn't reschedule. by then your parents were divorced and your father was elsewhere with his new girlfriend, so it fell to you to babysit your siblings.

conrad came over anyway: he helped you make rice and lentils for dinner, convinced your brother to eat his vegetables, and let your sister paint his nails. the four of you watched night at the museum and ate all the junk food you had gotten, with you and conrad sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but stealing glances and shy smiles at each other. when your mother came home, a bit after midnight and a little tipsy, she got angry that you’d kept the twins up so late and cheated on the diet she had so carefully planned for you — to keep you in shape for swimming, she claimed. you rolled your eyes, and that made her angrier. without you saying anything, conrad took the twins upstairs to get ready for bed as you and your mother argued. by the time conrad walked back downstairs, your mother had gone into the living room for another drink and you were in tears. he asked if you were okay, and you told him to go home.

you never talked about that night again, and everything went back to the way it was: with neither of you crossing that line.

now

the only reason you let belly drag you to nicole’s party is because it’s her birthday. 

as soon as you enter the house, nicole and the other debutantes whisk belly away to a table filled with elaborate cakes. you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by how elegant they look in comparison to the cupcakes you made her. 

"come on," taylor groans. "let's get a drink."

taylor grabs two beers and hands one to you. you gratefully accept. the two of you catch up for a bit, when suddenly jeremiah starts serenading belly in an outrageously funny musical number. you laugh along with them, until you catch a glimpse of conrad with nicole on the couch at the other end of the room. nicole is sitting in conrad's lap, and she leans over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. your entire body heats up.

conrad was right before: you were jealous. as frustrated as you were with him, you were even angrier at yourself for feeling that way. 

"i’m gonna go find the bathroom!” taylor says, practically shouting over the music. 

"okay!” you yell back. “i’m gonna go get another drink." 

you know all too well that it isn’t a good habit to get into, but you need something stronger if you’re going to survive this party. you examine the drink table, finally picking out some mediocre tequila. you take a shot, then another.

“tequila. my kind of girl.” someone declares, creeping up behind you. 

it’s a terrible pick up line, and you already have a feeling that the guy trying to flirt with you is some rich entitled asshole. 

but, the guy — liam — can hold a decent conversation, and he’s cute enough.

he’s no conrad, though. you take another shot when that thought crosses your mind, and force yourself to flirt with leo. liam. right, liam.

liam leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze linger on the deep v-neck of your shirt. you’re so close, you can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“five minutes,” you boast after he asks how long you can hold your breath underwater. somehow, the conversation veered towards your time as a competitive swimmer. you’re just the right amount of tipsy that your inhibitions start fading away.

“wow,” liam says. “i have to say, i’m glad you didn’t have that training camp this summer.”

you bat your eyelashes at him. “oh? why is that?” you lean closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

“because then i wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

liam kisses you then, and you kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. you feel nothing. it’s fine.

“let's go upstairs.”

liam’s grabbing your wrist before you have a chance to answer. as he tries to tug you up the stairs, your eyes meet conrad’s from across the room.

suddenly, you feel nauseous. you rip away from liam’s grip and place a hand on the wall next to you to steady yourself.

liam turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just hang out downstairs.”

liam grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” 

this time, your voice comes out louder. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“don’t be a bitch, then,” he scoffs, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose. “do you wanna fuck, or not?”

“i don’t,” you answer instantly, struggling to break free from his grip. 

“okay, whatever. we don’t have to go all the way, but we can still go upstairs, and have a good time.”

he manages to drag you up two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage, forcing liam to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he groans.

“just stop, liam.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little girl. “i know what girls want, so you don’t have to be shy. we’re going upstairs right now and —”

“liam, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s belly, giving liam one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. belly, who if you cut open, would bleed sugar. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my friend.”

“whatever,” liam answers, rolling his eyes. “if you don’t mind, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you forward, but you stand your ground.

jeremiah is also glaring at liam from the bottom of the stairs, his golden retriever personality long gone. “back off, man,” he warns.

“just mind your own business,” liam snaps.

“they said leave her alone,” steven asserts, walking over once he sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” he clenches his hand into a fist as if proving a point.

in other situations, you and belly have definitely teased steven for his tendency to act all tough, but right now, you couldn’t be more grateful.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” belly orders. 

“i think she can speak for herself. she wants this, but if you’re jealous, you can join, too.” 

your stomach churns. liam leans in close to whisper in your ear. “maybe we’ll see if those 5 minutes come in handy when you’re sucking my —”

as soon as liam lets go of your wrist, his hand trailing downward, you shove him away and punch him in the nose before he can finish his sentence. you deliver a final blow to liam’s ego as he’s doubled over:

“what i want is for you to leave us the fuck alone. there are other people in this house who i’d rather hook up with. people who aren’t complete assholes with fancy cars to compensate for their tiny dick.”

the flirtatious smile falls from liam’s face, replaced with the kind of anger only rich entitled assholes have when they don’t get what they want — figures that he only gets the hint when it literally hits him right in the nose. he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you fall down the stairs, but belly manages to catch you before you hit the ground. she holds you as jeremiah and steven step in front. you hear them shouting at liam over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and the room is suddenly all fuzzy.

“i’ve got her.” conrad’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist. “go find cam — the rest of us have been drinking, but he can drive her home.”

somehow, you find yourself in a bathroom, sitting on the counter as conrad stands between your legs. he carefully examines your injury, but you notice how he avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” the question slips past your lips before you could stop it.

conrad looks slightly amused, and he finally meets your gaze. “that’s not the line,” he deadpans. you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him all night) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

but, still, he remembers. his comment earlier and his smile right now is all the confirmation you need: somewhere in the back of his mind, he replays memories of you. no matter how cold he acts towards you, he still cares.

he continues wiping the blood off your face. “how’s your hand?” he asks.

you flex your fingers, inspect your hand. “it’s been better,” you answer, though your knuckles are slightly aching. “worth it.”

“i guess all those years away made you a badass.”

all those years away. the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, but you wouldn’t let it burst the comfortable bubble you and conrad had somehow stumbled into. 

instead, you offer him a lopsided smile.

“oh, connie,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “i was always a badass.”

“yeah, yeah. but it’s different now. you’re different.” he pauses. you’re worried he’s going to say something else. 

but he doesn’t. instead, he asks, jokingly: “did you join a fight club or something?” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s trying to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it, before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re both heartbroken and not talking to each other. 

“you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

conrad laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

a silence falls over you, one that’s not unfamiliar, but not entirely comfortable either. conrad holds the cloth against your nose to make sure the bleeding stopped. 

it seemed to be a strange pattern between you two — being there for each other when you bleed.

then — summer, age 12

it was the end of july when you got your first period. 

you had made lunch for your siblings and walked them to their day camp, when you suddenly felt an ache in your abdomen. that ache turned into a sharp pain by the time you got home, and you ran to the bathroom to confirm what you’d suspected. 

that afternoon, mr. conklin was taking all the kids to mini golf, but you weren’t feeling up for it. you texted belly about what happened and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed.

you didn’t hear him knock over the sound of the movie you were watching, but suddenly you saw conrad standing by your door, holding a bag from the candy shop. 

“jesus, connie, you scared me!” you exclaimed, pausing the movie. 

he smiled sheepishly and flopped down on the bed next to you. “belly told me you weren’t feeling well. here.” he handed you the bag. 

you opened the bag, grateful that conrad picked out your favourite treats. you take one and bite into it. your stomach growled — you hadn’t eaten earlier because you felt nauseous, but now you could eat that entire bag in one go.

“how was mini golf?” you asked, popping another treat into your mouth.

“it was awesome! i finally managed to get past that giant hippo and get a hole-in-one. i got the highest score.”

you frown, wishing you had been there. if anything, to beat conrad’s score. 

“don’t worry, we’ll go back another time,” conrad added. “you can beat me then.” sometimes, you swore conrad could read your mind. he then asked if you were feeling better.

“no. i got my period,” you huffed. “it sucks.”

“oh.” conrad adjusted his glasses, a sign that he felt awkward. “i’ve heard about those. they sound pretty brutal.”

“health class?”

“no. my mom, actually.”

health class wasn’t much help for you either, and neither was your mother. you were lucky enough to have susannah and laurel, who had explained everything to you and belly. 

“anyway, what are you watching?”

“the hunger games,” you answer. “i just finished the book.”

“cool.” 

conrad didn’t move — he actually leaned back against the pillows even more — so you figured he wanted to stay. you moved the laptop so it sat between the two of you and started playing the movie again.

“you know, it doesn’t seem fair that you miss out on having fun just because of your period,” conrad said as katniss finds peeta injured in the arena.

you frown, about to point out that he has no idea how painful cramps can be.

he lifted his hand up to stop you. “not that i can judge what you’re going through. i’m just saying when it’s this bad, instead of being alone, just text me, and i’ll be there.”

when the time came, he watched movies with you in bed. he brought you junk food and pain killers. he even biked to the store when you’d run out of pads.

he was there for you, just like he promised.

now

those moments from past summers now feel warm and sickly sweet, like popsicles melting in the sun — then again, that might just be the remnants of tequila flowing through your veins. you think about what happened earlier, how belly, jeremiah, and steven stepped in to protect you. how conrad is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve ignored each for so long. it’s like nothing changed. but once you leave this bathroom and the alcohol leaves your system, it wouldn’t be the same. you feared you'd never get that magic back, and that weighed on your chest so much, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“why’d you go for liam, anyway?” conrad asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes the cloth from your nose so you can answer, and the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. liam’s an asshole. and you’re…” conrad places his hands on either side of your thighs, leaning close. “you.”

“i went for liam because….well, honestly, i didn’t care who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with conrad is running out. 

conrad’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s so close that it’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on conrad’s. it's not the most elegant kiss — it's messy, urgent, with your noses bumping together, and teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. you taste beer on his tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. you tangle your hands into his hair, and you swallow his moan as you gently tug. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him.

when you run out of air, feeling like your lungs could burst, you pull away. conrad’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“connie,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

conrad wipes away your blood with the cuff of his flannel. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. jeremiah, letting you know that it’s time to go. 

and, just like that, the moment is gone. 

a few days later, belly invites you over for a girl’s night. you paint each other’s nails, eat sour candy, and watch rom coms, just like you used to. she updates you on debutante season, the argument she had with taylor, and her blossoming feelings for jeremiah. you let it slip that you and conrad kissed at nicole’s party, though you admit you aren’t sure what it means — as if you hadn’t spent hours and hours thinking about the kiss, about him. belly gives you a knowing smile, but you change the subject before she can comment any further.

you’re halfway through 10 things i hate about you when belly falls asleep. you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to conrad, when you get a text from him.

he’s already on the dock when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you stand next to him. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell belly that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “but…would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, belly’s close to nicole and i don’t want her finding out," conrad explains. his words are deliberate, and you suspect he'd spent some time perfecting what to say to you. so far, you didn't like where this was going. conrad delivers another blow:

"it’s not like it meant anything.”

you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces right then and there.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to conrad’s stoic demeanor.

conrad shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with liam happened, so we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing other than friendship?”

he turned away before he answered. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he pauses, and you know you caught him off guard. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit has happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, conrad.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay conrad’s words as you crawl into bed next to belly, holding back tears as to not disturb her sleep.

you decide then that you didn’t love conrad anymore. you couldn’t because it would eat you up inside. 

then again, it doesn't seem like hating him would be any easier.

#conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty fic #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher angst #saf writes

[mggsv]

Personal Chef

poc f!reader x Toji Fushiguro (18+)

summary: As you finally land your dream job as a personal chef, you quickly find out it’s not what you though it would be.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, toji is 28),food play, squirting, oral (f receiving) , SLIGHT porn with plot, praising

“You will be given your own living space in the penthouse in order to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner for the Ceo.”

“Right.”

“You will stay Monday-Friday, weekends off. You cannot stay here during the weekends. If you cannot work this way speak now.”

“It’s fine.”

“Perfect. You will not bother, speak to, or interrupt the Ceo at any given time. You are not friends, you are not worker buddies. You cook his food, that is it.”

“Right.”

“You will do the grocery shopping. Here’s what he usually likes to get, and his diet plan. Please stick to this list. If he asks you for something else then all means go ahead, however don’t get too comfortable doing so. This is your job. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Any questions?”

“…no“

“Great! Follow me.”

You stood there while the blue eyed, white haired man went on and on about your new life. You held a white folder in your hand, information about your “boss” who you weren’t supposed to formally meet, and various to-do’s. In fact you were to be completely invisible, “like a maid” the man had said at some point. You bit the inside of your cheek, almost regretting this. You hated having to adjust to new things, let alone staying at someone else’s home? The life of a private chef was something, but it was your dream. You finished college at the top of your class. You could do anything, and you chose what the little girl all those years ago wanted.

You certainly didn’t expect anything of the job other than the amazing pay and life style, instead you got that and more.

“Toji…” You moan, back arching on the marble kitchen counter. His tongue licking at your folds, licking at the syrup he poured just a minute before. “Fuck baby.. you make this yourself?” He groans, having another lick. Your juices mixed with the sweet tasting syrup went straight to his cock.

“M..Mhm..” Your hand tangled in his hair, eyes shutting tightly. You felt his lips suck on your clit, a sweet humming coming from him. Your legs twitch feeling his sticky fingers re-enter you. The sound of your juices as he finger fucked you drove you wild. Your hips rocked with the small thrusts. “Good fucking pussy..that’s my girl.”

“F-Fuck fuck-“ you whine, legs twitching at the feel of another finger slowly working its way inside. “My good fuckin girl.” Toji cooed. your hips rock against his face, his nose buried deep into your heat. You let out a small breath, feeling your cunt gush over Toji’s face. Eyes rolling as he slurped every drop, careful not to waste. “Let it all out..” he moans.

Toji never wasted his food. He always ate until he was full. His big hands pushed your thighs back, spread wide over the counter. You whimpered, your nerves skyrocketing at the thought of another maid catching you in the act with your boss. His tongue entered you quick, the muscle flicking in the right places. “Gonna cum..” You push his head further. “m’gonna cum Toji-“ He lifts his head up, eyes staring deep into yours, slick glistening on his chin.

“You gonna what?” He says. You balance yourself on your elbows. Your chest moved as you panted. Toji’s eyes trailed the pierced nubs with nothing but hunger. It was lunch time after all, and you were his personal chef. “nothing- sir.” You breathe. Toji reaches beside you, the homemade syrup still warm. He wastes no time pouring it over your breast. “That’s too bad,” he’s pulling his shirt over his head, hands moving to unbuckle his belt. His thick cock springing free, hard and leaking. “I’m fuckin starving.”

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji zenin #toji smut #toji x poc reader #toji x you #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #dilf toji #anime #chef #poc reader #f reader #female reader #goji #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu gojo #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you

[drefear]

Hi ya 💕

So I am not sure if your asks are open but was wondering if I could ask a question of sort about the Miguel x daughter’s friend thing you wrote.

Don’t feel pressured to answers this 🌸

Basically what I wanted to know is how you would imagine reader joking to Gabriella that she is pregnant in-front or Miguel and her father (but like it genuinely was a joke but the others thought otherwise)…. Basically their reactions to this.

Thank you for ya time 💕

Oh boy HEAR WE GO. My asks will always be open, yall. I love writing what others wanna read. cause I'm a validation craving people pleaser.

I hope this kind of captures what you wanted.

TW: Throw up, fluff, a little bit of backstory for Gabriella's mom, pregnancy obviously, drinking

You sat in the living room of MIguel’s house. Almost two years of dating, you and Miguel had finally moved in together and got into a nice little routine. Wednesdays were your night to be with Gabi, your dad, and Gabi’s (now) fiance. Popping open a bottle of wine, Gabi poured a glass for herself and  Miguel, as your father and her boyfriend each had a beer. You stood, checking all the food you’d laid out and smiled. The doorbell rang and you looked around. “Oh, sorry sweetie! I invited Tia over, I forgot to tell you.” Your dad smiled apologetically and got up to get the door, making you look between Gabi and Miguel for a second in shock. Your dad had been seeing a woman he met at his gym for a month now, and you told him that he could invite her if he’d liked. 

Grabbing another glass from the kitchen, you came back to see her sitting across from your boyfriend, smiling and shaking hands with Gabriella. She turned her smile to you and warmth seemed to surround her as she introduced herself. She hugged you immediately, and you returned the embrace. 

“Your father has told me so much about you! He even showed me the music video you choreographed last month.” You blushed a bit at the compliment to your work, glancing at your dad. 

“My little girl has a gift for performing.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. You took a seat next to Miguel and once everyone was settled, you started the show you all had been watching. 

As the night went on, you all talked and laughed. 

“You haven’t had a sip of the wine!” Gabriella teased you and you just rolled your eyes. "C'mon, it's your favorite."

“You know I can’t drink right now, I might be up for that training camp and they gave me a very strict diet.” You placed your hands on your lap and glanced at the glass of water you’d gotten yourself. 

Gabriella kept throwing questions at you about the possible job offer and you answered with enthusiasm, your love for dance showing in your excitement. 

“I still can’t believe the ending to that episode, I don’t want to wait until next week.” Your father spoke up between him, Tia, and Miguel. 

“So we all agree she’s probably pregnant, right?” Miguel’s opinion made you laugh. 

“Yeah, it was too obvious.” You nodded, grabbing a bite of the fish dip. Wrinkling your nose, you moved to spit it out on a napkin. “Ugh, next time, remind me to make this homemade and not get the one from the store. It smells like it might be bad.” You trailed off, leaning back into Miguel’s waiting arms and snuggling closer to him. 

“I wonder how he’s going to react.” Gabriella wondered, “And with his son, of all people!” 

“I mean. They seem to love each other, does it matter if it’s his son?” Your brows furrow, the idea hitting a bit close to home. 

“I think they’d have a cute kid.” Miguel added, and you thought for a second. 

“All kids are cute. Babies, too. I love babies when they are all dressed up and-” You glanced up with a wide smile and saw everyone staring back at you, eyes wide. “What?” 

“You’re pregnant!” Gabriella gasped and you laughed. 

“What makes you think that?” You shrunk backwards, suddenly realizing how everyone’s attention was on you. 

“Not drinking, you spit out the fish, you love babies, it all makes sense!” Gabriella speaks louder now. “Oh my god! I’m gonna be an aunt- no, a sister- you’re pregnant with my little brother or sister! Oh, I hope it’s a girl.” Gabriella’s rambling and constant talking made you sweat for a second, overwhelmed. Glancing to the other side of the room, you saw your father’s face. He was pale as a ghost, and silent. That terrified you. 

“Dad?” You asked quietly. 

“My little girl is pregnant… I’m gonna be a grandfather.” He spoke slowly and you reached over to him. His attention moved past you to your boyfriend. “You better take care of my little girl and this baby, Miguel, or I swear to God-” 

“He did a good job with me, they’ll be fine!” Gabi smiled and grabbed your hand, unloading more thoughts she had about your pregnancy. 

Your father chimed in now, talking with Gabi about how important it is that you be careful while dancing and at work, and maybe you shouldn’t be on such a strict diet. Gabi’s fiance and your dad’s date  started adding in now, and your head began to spin. You froze, unable to completely process it all before finally bursting like a shaken bottle of soda. 

“I’m not pregnant!” You shouted, standing up. Miguel just sat back, sipping his glass of wine with a chuckle. His relaxed posture made you a bit sad. Did he not care? Everyone else seemed to be so excited to see you have a baby. 

You stormed out of the room, something you made a bad habit of ever since you were younger, and stomped off to your bedroom. 

This made Miguel standing and usher everyone to the door, thanking them for coming and angering his girlfriend so that he could fix it. Closing the door, he quietly put everything away and cleaned up the mess they had made before coming to finally check on you in your shared bedroom. 

“Mi corazon?” He opened the door and found you under the covers, blankets up to your neck. He sat by your feet and sighed. 

“You weren't as excited as everyone else.” You said, getting straight to the point. “It was like you didn’t care.” He laughed and you sat up, now even more angry, “are you laughing?!” 

“Yes.” He nodded, smiling still and you couldn’t help but melt a little at that sexy smile. “Mi vida, if you were pregnant right now, I’d be walking out that door.” He stated, and you lost your breath. 

“Why?” Your eyes filled with tears and he just grabbed your hand. 

“Because that would mean that you were pregnant with another man’s baby.” His words left you speechless for a second. “As you know, Gabriella came as a surprise for both her mother and I. We were still teenagers and neither of us were ready to have a baby, but we did and we got married and it all worked out. But right after Gabriella was born, her mother decided she didn’t want any more children, and so I had a vasectomy.” He said this all with ease, pulling you into his lap, “I knew it was reversible, and if we decided we did want another child, that I could just have it fixed and we could try.” He leaned his cheek on your head as he spoke and his words finally clicked. 

“So you knew I wasn’t pregnant because I can’t get pregnant. That’s why when my dad made comments about if I got pregnant, you didn’t freak out.” 

“Si.” He confirmed. 

“So… you don’t want kids?” You asked and that’s when his body froze. 

“I haven’t thought about children in a long time,  mi Vida. Do you?” 

“Yes, I do.” You announced and pulled away to be able to see his face. He was staring down at you with a new expression. 

“Hmm.” He looked away before leaning towards you and laying you slowly down on the bed. “Then I guess I better get that reversed, and we better practice.” He smirked and you smiled, kissing him. “That way, I can get mi cielo pregnant with my baby.” 

Those words made every part of you flutter. It was a sleepless night after that, and many more. 

Three months later, and you stood in the kitchen making food for you and your boyfriend. The world had been kind to you recently, and that training camp job you’d had was finally over. Auditions had slowed for the moment and you were now enjoying teaching dance classes at a local theater. 

The afternoon sun was hot as you cut a burger in half. Suddenly, without warning, your mouth was full of sick and you were running to the bathroom. You hated throwing up, hated the feeling of being powerless to your own body, and this was no exception. You wiped your mouth once you finished, and stood in the mirror for a second. You were glistening with sweat and your face looked a little greenish from vomiting. You wondered what had made you so ill. 

Stepping back, you looked into the full body mirror and noticed something. Had you… gained weight? No, you’d been on that diet for the job, you’d been working out and conditioning constantly. If anything, you should have lost weight! 

And things began to click. Being sick, gaining weight, and being so tired recently. 

You were pregnant. You’d been trying now for weeks with Miguel, and it’d become so natural that you’d basically forgotten. 

A few hours later and a trip to the store, you sat back in that bathroom with a test in your hands. Knee bouncing and lip pulled between your teeth, you placed it on the counter beside you. Five minutes, the instructions said. You could wait five minutes, right? No, you couldn't, so you decided to distract yourself and tossed the pregnancy test into the drawer of your sink.

You moved to clean up, wiping down the counter and throwing out the burger from before, when you heard Miguel walk in. You didn’t want him to see it if it was negative, to get his hopes up or feel pressured. 

He walked in, gazing at you happily. Kissing you quickly, you held his large hands in yours and closed your eyes. No matter what happened, you knew you’d be happy as long as you were with him. 

“Did you make something? I smell burgers.” 

“Oh, no, but I can whip something up. I think I still have some meat sauce in the fridge, want some pasta?” You asked and he nodded. You bounced off to the kitchen, now focused on your boyfriend’s dinner. A few minutes later, you heard something fall from your bedroom. Running in there, you saw Miguel standing by his spread open briefcase with all of his papers strewn across the room, coming from the master bathroom. 

The bathroom!

You stepped inside carefully, glancing to see his reaction in the mirror. The large man was standing shirtless with the bathroom drawer open, that stick in his hands. You gulped and bit your lip, eyes full of tears because you only assumed the worst. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t even look because I thought I might be pregnant, but I guess I was wrong-” 

“It’s positive.” His voice was hoarse, obviously about to cry. 

Your mouth fell open and your eyes met his. “What…?” 

“It’s positive. You’re pregnant.” He whispered and moved to hug you, ignoring the mess everywhere as he pulled your tiny body into his big frame, head in your neck as he cried a bit from happiness. 

You returned this gesture with equal parts of shock and happiness, at first not moving and then wrapping your arms and legs around him as he picked you up off the ground, both crying now. 

You pulled back to cup his face and kiss him over and over, still in disbelief that you were carrying his child, that you two were going to have a baby. He choked out a sob as he smiled on your lips. 

“I love you… so much.” You gasped and he nodded. “I love you more, mi cielo.”

Tags: @pllao@itzsab@smo66y@misswonderfrojustice@cyberbugg@jollybananaqueen@eeryyy@nightma @topreice @poppyflower-22@yoonlith@miragemurder@ihateuguys@knoxx-seresinbradshaw @minaxcarter @autismsupermusicalassassin @migueloharaslxt @mintqueenjo@chshiresins @um-well @kxszy@miguelswifey04@mushy-mushroom04@tymns@oxrchd @mimiamma2002 @allysunny @ruletarts

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #angst #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel fluff

[possibly-not-a-ghost]

I've been thinking about your fake cryptids real ghosts thing nonstop, rent free in my head. That's all

All according to plan! Here's another blurb because everyone in this fandom is a gift.

So, I for one can totally see the Batfamily trying to find out where Danny set up is Haunt in Gotham because Dead Ghost Child and the implications of their first meeting. Actually, let's talk about their first meeting because it's related.

Danny bringing gifts to the biggest shrine to declare his arrival. He brings Robin a cool knife he found in the GZ (Or maybe it was a gift who knows.) Point is, it's a spooky knife, and like...nice postcard of sunrises, blue skies and other Pretty places because man, the Bats don't ever leave Gotham and aren't seen in daylight hours what if they miss it or haven't seen it and some homemade (slightly ectro-contaminated cause it was made in the GZ) Bat-themed cookies. No one Knows they're bat-themed until Danny explains. (They look like those sad misshapen spider-man ice cream cones but god did Danny and Jazz Try and intentions are what matter here.)

They meet, Danny throws them into existential crisis' because Ghosts and of course they're trying to find him so they can (adopt him, make sure he's okay, ask what who's hunting him cause WHAT) And instead of the usual shenanigans of them meeting Danny as human or Phantom, the only one to ever meet Danny is Alfred.

Danny who got help from a really nice British guy when he was trying to figure out what to give as offerings to the Bats and might've been having a small crisis because 'what if they don't let us stay and we have to go to somewhere like eugh Metropolis.' and ends up latching onto the first Nice Adult he meets during said crisis.

Danny & Jazz who just so happen to bump into the the Nice Adult while grocery shopping (Alfred who has a schedule for the family shopping and Jazz who always says having a set routine is Healthy.) and the two keep trying to politely ask how to adult and do cooking because let's be real. While Jazz has done her best to feed herself and Danny a better diet the Fenton kitchen was a disaster zone and there's only so much you can do when you're food keeps trying to attack you. There's much more to your food than striking it back down after all.

Also here's another meme.

#dp x dc #fake cryptid batfam #fake cryptids real ghosts au #danny phantom #there's so many ways you could go. I am an angst machime but I am just in a silly goofy mood #I made the memes on my phone forgive the quality lmao #plus Alfred unknowingly helping out Danny pick out gifts for his family makes me smile #Jazz asks the BEST PERSON about hard to get out stains by pure accident because you can't convince me that ectoplasm is an easy clean #this got away from me a little whoops #but love for Alfred is forever #rook posts stuff #asks and answers

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write about the Merc's with a gn! reader who loves baking?

Btw, I love your writing style! It all feels so accurate and it's helping to feed this new fixation of mine <3 <3

I see we have some food lovers in the askbox, chat. *crackles knuckles* you ask, and daddy delivers.

Mercs with somebody who gives them food

Scout:

- Depends on your current location. The gravel wars isn’t short of moving from place to place. If it’s somewhere like japan he’ll go full weeb mode and eat nothing but fish related dishes. You know speed racer? In the fucked up TF2 universe there’s a speed racer themed restaurant. Take him there. (On second thought maybe don’t go eating with him in Japan he might eat the Hiroshima rocks.)

- He swears he’s on a diet but it’s inconsistent as fuck. This is the same guy who canonically eats radiation we’re talking about here. You hand him some warm bread you baked and he’s ecstatic. You catch him sprinkling something on his slice. It’s grounded up like pepper. He’s like “This? This shit is fuckin’ perfect. The person who owns my gym back in boston recommended it for energy. Tastes great.” You read the label and you realize it’s grounded up uranium.

- If you make him homemade fried chicken he’ll nearly choke up. Seriously. nobody’s ever done that for him before. Giving him food in general is also his love language but chicken? He thinks you want to marry him forever and ever now.

—————————————————————

Soldier:

- You don’t really know what soldier likes.. He doesn’t make anything very evident and tries his hardest to make his one defining trait being that he’s a veteran. But you know that’s not true. You decide to make him some sandwiches and he’s confused. “Huh.. Well that’s some weird tasting MREs. Not complaining. It’s actually really good. Shame that civilians can’t get the same luxury right now.” He says. You have no idea how to explain that WW2 is virtually nonexistent anymore.

- Finally you settle with something. Honey with warm bread. Instead of eating slices like a normal person he just swallows the entire loaf like a snake. You are worried for this man’s intestines. He seems to be fine however.

- Gives you either a romantic or platonic kiss on the head. Your pick. His breath smells sugary and sweet and you nuzzle your head against his collarbone in response. This is his way of showing he appreciated the food.

———————————————————————

Demoman:

- I sure hope you’re capable of producing stew because that’s all he eats when he isn’t unhealthily suppressing his own hunger with scrumpy.

- You get him to eat a variety of food somehow. Although he’s picky, he isn’t impossible either. Due to growing up in an orphanage he was no stranger to having to cook for himself at times when the caretakers just really didn’t care. You exchange recipes. For some reason he has an entire Scottish cookbook under his bed. As well as a book on “Leonerdo Da Fuq’s Basic Guide To blowing Sentries Up. And making it look like an accident.”

- He’s very thankful. Demoman’s not much of a foodie. He eats to live rather than lives to eat. But your snacks hit different. They’re made with your love. That’s why they’re so much better than what he typically eats.

—————————————————————-

Engineer:

- WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU THATS HIS JOB. HE’S THE OVERBEARING GRANDMOTHER THAT WONT STOP SHOVING FOOD INTO HER KIDS MOUTH!!! NOT YOU!!!

- He eats everything you give him. Even if it doesn’t particularly tickle his fancy. His belly is big and swollen afterwards and you want to squish him so bad. That’s a pillow waiting to be laid on. He then tells you fond memories of thanksgiving and when his mother would cook his family an entire turkey dinner.

- He responds twofold by making you something as well. You wake up one day to find an entire breakfast platter laid on your end table. There’s a little sticky note there and although it doesn’t have a name on it — the dash alongside the expertly drawn symbol of his class is evident enough. Only somebody with expertise in blueprints would draw something like that. Hint hint.

——————————————————————

Heavy:

- Heavy isn’t a dumbass by any means but this is a certified Heavy L situation. He thinks you’re trying to offend him at first because people call him fat on a regular basis. Medic explains from afar that actually it’s a gesture meant to express hospitality, and upon realizing you were just being nice he looks embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

- Lets you spoon feed him your food. He likes it for some reason. He likes any kind of meat, and protein. He eats that shit everyday. Not just that but dark chocolate and other bitter tasting foods as well. Despite his massive size he doesn’t actually eat large portions at a time.

- He knows how to make mostly deserts. Takes on a sort of mentor role and tries to teach you how to bake cakes and stuff like that. You’ve never seen Heavy in such a domesticated setting. Watching him go about cooking without breaking somebody’s skull in for once was actually kind of surreal.

————————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Cook / get them nothing but sweets. They won’t eat anything else. You begin to wonder if Pyro is even remotely human because of how much unhealthy food they eat. (But then again you’ve seen soldier survive losing both his arms and Medic sowing them back on. It’s probably fine.)

- They are unbelievably excited to see you walk into the room with plates and/or boxes. You’ve unintentionally pavloved them into associating it with your food. They clap and make grabby hands. Wanting to see what sweets you’ve brought them.

- It’s actually quite odd.. You see them retreat into their quarters to eat their food. It’s clear they’ve eaten it because they always take the plates back but you’re never allowed to see them eat directly. They don’t attend dinner with the other mercs or even breakfast.

- DO NOT LET THEM NEAR THE FUCKING OVEN. DO NOT LET THEM COOK. THE ADMINISTRATOR MADE IT AGAINST THE RULES TO LET PYRO NEAR THE STOVE.

————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- “Bloody hell.. This for me?” His voice hiked up a little. A little shocked that somebody would even consider making or buying him food in the first place, Only his parents ever did that for him. He takes it hesitantly but his expression doesn’t seem negative. Just incredibly dumbfounded. You had got him some donuts from a market in tuefort. You figured it would go well with his coffee.

- Immediately starts eating them. Sniper is both a meats sort of guy and a sweets sort of guy. Looks from side to side to make sure nobody saw him take your offer. That would be a embarrassing. He grabs the entire box and retreats into his camper van like a rat.

- He then slowly opens the door.. “Oh, right. Bugger. This is typically the moment I comfortably invite you in.” He cringes at the thought. Leaving the door open for you, and moving aside to let you in. He begins telling you the basics about how to hunt your food. For some reason it’s all incredibly dangerous aussie animals though. Some of the stuff doesn’t sound edible but he’s apparently eaten. He’s especially passionate about how to properly cook crocodiles.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- Pretentiously nitpicks the fact you brought him cupcakes. Citing his knowledge about how too much sugar consumption can kill you… whilst simultaneously eating the cupcakes.

- “Even worse yet —- they ruin your dental health. Hoo, i’d hate to be on the receiving end of a tooth filling by an angry dentist.” He says, shoving more of your sweets into his face. You wonder if he’s even self aware of what he’s doing to be honest. “Although I do envy their sadism! It’s much worse than mine, actually — Das schmeckt gut.” He adds.

- He frowns. You knew Medic had loved cupcakes in particular so you were confused at first. Well it wasn’t that. In fact it was something more stupid. “Well then again the consumption of sugar is important for our bodies, I must add. With the wrong diet we could die from low blood sugar. I wonder if it is possible to extract all the sugar from a human body using a sort of giant homebrewed syringe. It is in theory possible for me to—“ The man is at his chalkboard writing down mathematical equations again.

———————————————————————-

Spy:

- When you give him food for the first time he’s unbelievably pouty. Couldn’t you have asked him his tastes first? He hesitantly eats what you give him anyway. As long as it isn’t fried, fast food, candy or anything that wasn’t expensive as fuck.

- Incredibly good table manners. Incredibly good at cooking his native cuisine. For some reason he’s intent on insisting that french food is superior than any other food. When you’re eating with him he straightens your posture, politely puts your napkin in your lap and schools you on the fact you’re not using your salad fork or whatever. There’s way too much pointless shit on his table. Who the fuck created all these weirdly specific rules?

- Eventually he’s so tired from trying to teach you he loses his temper and crosses his arms like a discontent toddler while you eat nonchalantly. “What?” You say. Using the wrong fork again. He’s still staring at you. “What?!” You repeat yourself. “I love you, Spy.” You say. Shoving more food into your mouth. He keeps glaring at you.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #medic x reader #spy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #pyro x reader #sniper x reader

[heartfullofleeches]

Not to be a shameless simp on main BUT I couldn't get the idea of Liu with a baker darling out of my head 👩‍🍳🧁💖

I like to imagine that darling would purposefully bake too many goodies throughout the day just so they can have an excuse to visit the handsome butcher across the street 🤭💕 After all, sharing is caring right? And who better to spread the love with than the person who always seems to have the best cuts of meat set aside for just for them 💖

Ack- that's so cute. I've actually had ideas about a baker darling with Liu before, but never wrote anything about it.

Liu technically can taste things, but considering their species diet relies mostly on raw meat it's not something they really focused on when eating. Sometimes Liu will eat raw peppers or tablespoons of salt or sugar just to get a feel on the different flavors so they know what reactions to give in the presences of others. When they eat things blended into a recipe they can barely taste it as one combined meal and instead it's separate parts down to the tiniest ingredient which can be quite jarring at times.

When Liu eats darling's pastries something is... off. They can't tell what the sweetness filling their mouth is. A substitute of kind to regular white sugar? Honey?... Brown sugar?... As their bond with darling grows, they slowly learn what it is. Whenever they see Darling's smile. Whenever they heard their voice. It's the taste of emotions unexplored before. It's a craving to be by their side and do whatever it takes to make them happy.

It's the taste of love - and they don't ever want to forget it.

I can imagine Liu has nearly (or has) sliced a finger or two off catching a glimpse of the baker while cutting meat. If Darling brings them treats out of the kindest of their heart Liu is fighting tears and pleading for them to take whatever they want from their stock. Liu tries to impress by bringing homemade meals and showing off baking skills of their own by making biscuits and beignets (that's all they know and if they try anything like cakes or cookies it will be a catastrophe....... but maybe Darling can teach them a thing or two sometime

(I thought Tumblr deleted this i was gonna cry but my dumbass put it into the queue. Your darling is so adorable. Thank you!)

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere blurb #Liu my oc

[captainpulisic]

i hate accidents! - c. pulisic

happy 25th birthday to my number one boy. again, this is for my girlies who go against gender norms and can’t cook!

gif credits to owner , wc: 1.8 k

flour. sugar. eggs. milk. butter. flour. sugar. eggs. milk. butter, you kept repeating the ingredients to yourself, making sure you had enough of each one. flour. sugar. eggs. milk. butter. oh- and cocoa powder. don’t forget the cocoa powder.

“oh, y/n.” your best friend leaned against her refrigerator, looking at you with weary eyes. she half heartedly gestured at the mess of ingredients you had laid across her kitchen counters. “why are you even doing this?”

her roomate chimed in from the next room where she was watching some movie, “yeah, we know cooking isn’t exactly your expertise.”

of course, they knew. everyone knew. you were self aware, you knew it better than anyone else. but this wasn’t cooking. it was baking. it was baking a birthday cake for christian so maybe this would prove easier than cooking?

you were going to bake it with love and whatever other bullshit people said, so this had to come out right, right?

“you know what you should do?” your friend was suddenly very serious. she took a step closer to you and fake whispered, “go get a store-bought cake that comes all prettily decorated. you just put it on a plate at home, put some candles and ta-da! it’s a beautiful homemade cake you made.”

you deadpanned, “are you being serious right now?”

“of course,” she waved you off. “i’ve done it plenty of times, people always fall for it.”

taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and point towards the door. “get out.”

“but this is my kitchen!” she half laughs, half protest.

“I know, I know,” you shake your head as you push her out of the room. giving her one last grateful smile as you shut the door, “and I really do appreciate you letting me borrow it but I seriously need to focus on this.”

yes, you had to find refuge in a different kitchen, no longer allowed in your own. after another cooking disaster, christian and yourself (mostly him) decided it was best to keep your time in the kitchen to a minimum.

“there’s only so many pots in the country,” he had teased as he tried scraping off the char. what? no one had told you making pancakes could be so hard!

it worked better for you, anyway. away from his prying eyes, you’d had free reign to practice all week long. you’re sure he’s grown suspicious of why you left every day for a few hours and came back smelling like you’d bathed in a tub of vanilla extract (you had spilled some on your clothes too many times to count). just yesterday, he had stopped you in the hallway and wiped some flour from your hair. when you saw him give you a curious glance, you leaned in to kiss him and led him straight to your bedroom. predictably, no questions had been asked after that.

with his strict diet and tough self discipline, christian didn’t indulge in sweets as often as would like. he stuck through rigorous training and healthy eating habits expected of him. his birthday cake was one of the few times of the year he let himself enjoy a sugary overload. therefore, you knew you couldn’t fuck this up for him. you had spent weeks scouring the internet for recipes and consulting with his mom on baking tips.

since his birthday fell on a monday this year, you’d planned to go out and celebrate with friends on the weekend. today was reserved for just the both of you. while he had a few hours of training, you were going to take advantage of the time to overcome the impossible and successfully bake an edible cake.

well, I have to start at some point, you chewed on your cheek. triple checking you had all the correct ingredients and measuring cups, your nerves got the best of you as you figured it was time to start.

you had settled on a simple chocolate cake- well the recipe seemed simple enough- and knowing of christians love for chocolate. hell bent on succeeding, you followed the instructions exactly as they were written and measured everything to the exact tablespoon.

all was going smoothly until it was time to add the designated two cups of sugar into the growing mixture. you hadn’t noticed you’d used up all your sugar during your trial runs. the recipe said not to stop stirring the batter, in fear that it would mess up the consistency. thus, you absentmindedly ventured into the cupboards in search of any sugar.

keeping your attention on stirring the batter, you reached for the unlabeled container of white grains?

aha! sugar!

once the batter was finished, you slathered the pan with butter and stuck it in the oven. moving onto making the chocolate buttercream frosting, you sprinkled more sugar from the container into it.

all too soon, the oven beeped and you rushed to take it out. surprisingly, it looked soft and spongy and like an actual, real cake. now more excited than ever, you covered it in the chocolate icing, trying to make it look as pretty as you could.

(the self restraint you had to not dip your finger into the bowl should be studied, truly.)

after thank yous and goodbyes and congratulations that you created something edible were said, you rushed back home in hopes of beating christian. making sure the house was still empty, you carefully take the cake out of the container and arrange it prettily on the counter. sticking a few candles into it, all there is left to do is wait for the birthday boy to come home.

soon enough, you hear the front door open and his footsteps advancing. he’s always had the knack of looking for you, of easily finding you. before you know it, his hands are on your hips and you feel soft lip brushes on your neck. it’s barely a mummer, “hey, you.”

“hey, birthday boy.” you turn around to face him. you cup his face, as he looks down at you fondly. his lovesick smile mirrors yours. it’s useless finding the urge to kiss him silly, thus you satiate yourself. rising to your tiptoes, your hands find themselves combing through his hair as your lips meet his. pulling away after a few moments, you can’t help but laugh when you see him try to follow you. you settle with leaving a trail of kisses all over his face and working your way down to his neck.

hearing him let out a content sigh, you find yourself settling your arms around his waist. mumbling into the crook of his neck, “you’re old.”

when he pouts and argues that he’s young, you retaliate and insist he’s reached grandpa status. this causes him to prove to you how young he is, by chasing you throughout the house. passing hallways and turning corners, the chase leads you both to the kitchen. where low and behold, a pretty chocolate cake sits with candles sticking out of it.

“oh,” upon seeing it, christian stops dead in his tracks. marveling at it, you see his eyes light up and he has the biggest grin on his face. stepping closer to inspect it, “is it from that new place down the street?”

that ‘new place’ was a bakery that had just opened up a few weeks ago. it’s a cozy, picture-perfect bakery that had cakes and pastries lined up along their windows. it’s the type of place where you’d have been able to get a professionally-made chocolate cake guaranteed to taste heavenly.

“uh, no.” you gave him a sheepish grin. feeling very shy, you’re beginning to regret even doing this. you’d been so happy about not fucking up the baking, you hadn’t considered how, maybe, christian would want a big, 5 star cake. you were just so proud of what you’d done! you hate to admit it but you had put love and all that bullshit into it. but, maybe, he did want a cake from an actual bakery. cheeks warming, “I actually made it.”

“y/n,” he whispers. it shouldn’t be physically possible but his smile got even bigger. he looked so handsome. reaching for your hands, he pulls you into his arms. looking down at you with the softest gaze, “you made this? for me?”

all you can do is nod. nerves overtaking your system, “I did, it might not even be that good, i’m sorry it’s not that pretty-”

he shuts you up when he leaves a kiss on each cheek and a few more on your forehead and nose. cupping your face, his thumb begins to stroke your cheek. you feel slightly silly over how fast you lean into his touch.

“oh baby, ‘m so proud of you.” his voice is too soft, and the look he’s giving you isn’t helping. your knees feel like jelly. he’s leaving kisses all over your face now, whispering ‘thank yous’ in between. “this is the best thing you could’ve done for me, thank you, my pretty girl.”

feeling the worry lift from your shoulders, you sigh in relief. solemnly nodding, “I was really careful, so it should taste decent.”

“I bet it’ll taste as great as it looks,” he dips down to leave a kiss on the corner of your mouth. that's when you see that particular glint in his eye. he goes in for another kiss, a deeper one. when he pulls away, the bastard bites your lip. there’s a teasing smile, “but I know it won't taste as sweet as you do.”

later that night, after dinner and gifts and intimate celebrating, you find yourselves seated at the counter.

yes, maybe it tasted like cardboard and the icing had a salty taste instead of sweet one (was the unlabeled container full of salt or sugar? you’re not that sure anymore.)

yes, maybe you both tried swallowing it and smiling through the torture your tastebuds were going through.

yes, maybe you lightly slapped his chest when he told you he felt bad for you guys’ future children. they’re going to think we hate them, he wheezed throughout the laughter.

yes, maybe you both were in hysterics over this bizarre situation and went out to buy a real, edible cake from the nearby bakery. and back home, when you lit a candle on it, you scolded him when he told you what he had wished for. he scooped some icing onto his index finger and smeared it on your cheek. then kissed the other, unaffected cheek. “for every year, to be exactly like this one. I want a salty cake for the rest of my life if it means you’re here.”

“hey!” you pouted. getting some icing yourself, you dragged it across his nose and curved it down to his upper lip. “the wishes don’t come true if you tell people, you know.”

he pondered this for a second, “well I was going to wish for you to get some cooking lessons but who would bake me a salty cake, huh?”

“haha,” you deadpan. leaving another kiss on his cheek, “you think you’re such a comedian, grandpa.”

i personally love a good birthday sheet cake from the grocery store. feedback is greatly appreciated, thank you!

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fluff

[the-banana-0verlord]

Hiii I would like to ask for some headcanons for malleus, neige,riddle, vil and trey with a reader who cannot eat anything in excess because otherwise she gets painful poisoning (she has a sensitive stomach je) and it has already happened three times for being disobedient , it's all ^^ thanks yuu <3 have a nice day :))/

Okay so I interpretated this as basically a lactose intolerant reader, except for everything they eat too much of. Anyways thank you for the request!

How the Twst boys would react to the reader having a sensitive stomach

Note: gn reader, my brother thought Neige was girl lmao 💀Also in Neige'S part you still go to NRC while he's at RSA.

🐉🐉🐉

Malleus Draconia

🐉Genuinely thinks you're dying the first time it happens.

🐉Lilia has to calm him down to stop the storm outside.

🐉He gets so confused when you continue to eat the same way that got you hurt???

🐉tries to fetch the best doctors to help you.

🐉If you refuse to take the medicine he'll force it down your throat(gently).

💅💅💅

Vil Schoenheit

💅You would think someone in your condition would take care of what they eat, but No, he has to do it HIMSELF.

💅Epel's diet looks like a walk in the park compared to yours.

💅You know it's for your own good but god do you miss your burgers.

💅Oh and don't even try to eat things in secret. He won't go as far as to curse the food like he did during the VDC, but he'll know for sure.

☘☘☘

Trey Clover

☘He felt guilty when he realised it was his tart that made you hurt so bad.

☘Did his best to conceive recipees with food that makes your stomach hurt less.

☘He's a master of hygiene, so making sure you're healthy is a piece of cake(pun intended)

❄❄❄

Neige Leblanche

❄You go to different school, so it took a long time before he knew about your ailment.

❄He found out on a diner date, when you had to rush to the toilet to puke.

❄He's so worried he'll drop by practically every day to check up on you and give you homemade bentos with specific ingredients to help your stomach.

❄Vil now avoids you like the plague.

🥀🥀🥀

Riddle Rosehearts

🥀It may not be a written rule, but he knows better than to overlook a hurting loved one.

🥀Good news is that he's a future doctor. He'll do all he can to help you.

🥀Bad news is, he may be the most strict one on this list. You can't escape it.

🥀Even playing on his soft side won't save you.

***

I hope you enjoyed!

Have a good day/night!

#twisted wonderland #malleus #malleus draconia #vil #vil schoenheit #trey #trey clover #neige #neige leblanche #riddle #riddle rosehearts #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #trey x reader #trey clover x reader #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #riddle x reader #riddle roshearts x reader

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

Hii i loveee your workss do you mind writting a daughter of demeter x frank zhang? I rarelys ee anyone from cabin 4 and i just loveee frank

⋆⭒˚.⋆ frank zhang x daughter of demeter! reader hcs

content: frank zhang x daughter of demeter! reader warning: language author's note: realllll where are the minor gods and goddess??? where are my sleepy hypno girlies??? nike??? tyche, one of my favs?????? gUYS????

yeah, that middle pic, that's frankie giving you kisses as a dragonfly fr fr

plant lover meets animal lover and they become radical activists together lmao

i just know you two be marching the streets together for each other's causes

probs were introduced by hazel, who you knew because she accidently dug up your carrot plot while searching for some precious gem

and hazel, just knowing you and frank would be prefect for each other, set you two up

she was right, you two were like two peas in a pod

when the bees get lazy, you bat your eyes at frank and jut your lip out, begging him to pollinate the strawberry plants because the need it

and he can't say no, ever the sucker for your pretty eyes

and your pretty face

and your pretty lips

and your pretty ass-

wait, what was that last one???

he refuses to be a bee though, too much risk of someone smushing him, so he typically turns into a hummingbird

frank would love nothing more than to follow you around all day and help around your garden

bro fr once turned into a goat because you mentioned that the weeds were getting too tall

grover didn't talk to you for a week after that, because that was his job

you forced frank to apologize with mr. d's old diet coke cans

also, i just KNOW you get all drooly and can't stop staring when you ask frank to help you with the large fertilizer bags

he be throwing them over his shoulder like it doesn't weight fifty pounds and youre getting all weaking in the knees thinking 'when will it be my turn, gods????'

love love loves when he can eat something from your garden

he bragging and leaning over to other people at the table like "you like that cesaer salad? YEAH WELLL MY GIRLFRIEND MADE IT AND SHE'S INSTANTLY COOLER THAN YOU AND-"

while he's not like the best cook in the world, he CAN do it.

and loves to. but only with your grown ingredients

what a sweetheart

def learned his lesson after the first date and will NOT buy you cut flowers

his go to?? veggie plants

i like to think each child of demeter just has that one kind of plant that is tricky for them and always grows in ways they don't want bc life isn't perfect

and yours is tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, carrots

you just can't do it to save your life, always comes out misshaped or just wrong

so frank buys you veggie plants and you let them grow like your a mortal

and then when theyre ripe, you go running to frank and drag him back to your cabin, rambling about fresh homemade pizza

and he let's you drag him, a huge smile on his face

because he couldn't think of a better way to spend his evening

cooking good food that his pretty girlfriend grew to make happen

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #frank zhang x reader #frank zhang

[being-addie]

The Glow Up Game

Part One: Pretty on the Outside

A comprehensive guide to getting your shit together. You heard me. We are done standing on the sidelines, looking at people living their dream lives being rich and hot and happy. WE'RE DONE.

This is a long guide, filled with pointers covering EVERYTHING regarding physical glow-ups. I'll be editing it and reblogging it whenever I come across new ideas and information. It covers everything from head to toe. I mean this literally.

Note: This is for people who want to do glow up physically. It is totally your choice to do anything you want to/don't want to on this list. We live in a world full of unfair beauty standards, and instead of being angry about it, I'm going to exploit the hell out of it.

Are you ready to change yourself? Here we go.

The absolute basics: These are lifestyle changes you're going to implement. Non-negotiable.

Go exercise: Don't look at me like that. This isn't optional. Find a way to move your body so you like it and you're actually breaking a sweat. Leisurely walking on the treadmill does not count, half-hearted zumba does not count. Whatever you're doing, it has to make you SWEAT. A good figure is earned. Trust me when I say you'll feel better, and like what you see in the mirror.

Change your diet: Enough sugar. Toss the soda out, and chuck out your candy stash. You really don't need it. Craving something sweet? Make a batch of healthy, homemade dessert. Or have a piece of fruit. I'm not kidding when I say the kitchen is where you make the biggest lifestyle change. It will be HARD, but every McChicken you say no to, is good for your HEALTH. You want to live longer? Cut out the takeout and heavily processed foods.

Fix your sleep cycle: Sleep is so important, and I think people overlook it so much. All your hard work is wasted if you don't sleep well. Your skin will break out, and your body will refuse to change even if you exercise. SLEEP WELL. Create a nighttime routine and stick to it. Make sure you have at least 7 hours of sleep as a minimum.

Create a skincare routine: Take off your makeup every day. And have a good skincare routine. Cleanse, moisturize and apply whatever you usually do. Exfoliate twice a week and stop touching your face. I also drink an ABC smoothie (Apple+Beetroot+Carrot+Water). This does wonders.

Use sunscreen: I cannot stress this enough. Skin cancer is real, and it will get you if you don't wear sunscreen. Use something higher than SPF 50 and use it religiously. Make sure to get your earlobes, chest and back of your neck. Cover every inch of your skin that will be exposed to the sun.

Drink your water: 3 litres of water per day. You will be amazed at the results. Your skin will clear, your breath won't stink and you won't be dehydrated. This shit works, and there's a reason everyone recommends it. Drink your water.

Moving on to each itty-bitty detail.

Eyes: SLEEP. You want your eyes to look fresh? No pesky dark circles? Get your sleep cycle right. No more late nights. Hot girls sleep on time.

Nose: Those blackhead-looking things are natural, they're called sebaceous filaments. And, no you can't get rid of them. But you can minimize them. Cleanse, moisturize and exfoliate. Don't pick at your skin.

Lips: Don't bite them anymore, for God's sake. You're going to make sure they're chapped beyond belief. Use lip balm religiously and don't overuse lipstick. Your lips WILL get discoloured when you're older. Use a light lip tint, and lip balm/gloss.

Eyebrows: If you want to shape them, go to the hairdresser and get it done.

Facial hair: As someone with naturally dark, thick hair I have a lot of noticeable facial hair. I'm planning on getting it lasered soon. Find a way that works for you and is affordable.

Body hair: I have zero self-consciousness about my arm and leg hair, so I have no desire to shave or wax it. I do wax my underarms, because of ridiculously thick growth. Understand that this is a personal choice, and you do not have to do this if you're unwilling.

Nails: Keep them short or long, always filed and CLEAN. Do not let grime or dirt build-up underneath. Don't keep your nails painted 24/7, it will 100% lead to yellowing. Give your nails some time to breathe between every manicure. When they aren't painted, keep them filed and presentable.

Hair: I have Type 3a curly hair, so my hair routine is tailored to suit me. But what I can tell you is wash your hair at least 1x a week, use sun protectant, and oil your hair before wash day(it works). And use heat on your hair SPARINGLY. If you want to colour you can, but remember it does lead to long term damage, brittleness and bad texture. Get your hair cut every 3-4 months with a trusted hairdresser. Keep switching up hairstyles and do not stick to a single part (middle part, side part) constantly because it can lead to thinning of hair there.

Acne: STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE I am begging you. Touching your face with grimy hands is a recipe for acne. Cleanse everyday, moisturize heavily and go to a dermatologist if it gets worse.

THIS LIST WILL BE UPDATED

Go live your best life. You deserve everything, and you shouldn't let anything stand in your way, not even yourself. Now GO, you've got shit to do.

xoxo

#self care #self improvement #self love #level up #level up journey #self love journey #glow up #college #tips and tricks #it girl #that girl #perfect #life #routine #self development #personal development #self growth #wellness #leveling up #level up tips #leveling up tips #leveling up journey #dream girl journey #dream girl #becoming that girl #girl blogger #girlblogging #habits #list #long

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(P4/GFL/GI/H:SR) Naoto, AN-94, Rosaria, and Stelle on a burger date

Admittedly, Naoto was not used to eating these kinds of food.

She travelled quite often and if she had time she could maybe indulge in a food to treat herself, let alone have lunch with her S/O.

But she had found herself in Tokyo with S/O and decided to try something different.

(Naoto) "Big Bang Burger?"

(S/O) "Oh yeah, that's quite popular nowadays. Did they ever have one in Inaba?"

(Naoto) "To my knowledge, no. I am always willing to try something once."

The two walked into the fast food restaurant and saw a poster on the wall.

(Naoto) "The...Big Bang Burger challenge?"

A female employee greeted them and explained how the challenge worked. Naoto's eyes almost bulged out her head.

(Naoto) "P-People eat something that huge?! And I thought the Beef Bowl Challenge was intimidating."

(S/O) "Did you wanna try it?"

(Naoto) "Er, well...I think I'd prefer to start off small before attempting something of that caliber."

Watching one of the employees bring two of them out, they brought it to a table who had two blonde students in a booth.

(Blonde haired boy) "F-For real?! How the hell are we supposed to finish that in thirty friggin' minutes?!"

(Blonde haired girl) "Oh god, why did I let you convince me to do this?"

Naoto and S/O ordered themselves a more fitting meal, and Naoto felt sick even looking at the two students attempt to finish it. Her burger was barely a quarter of the size and just looking at it, she felt like she had gained thousands of calories.

S/O chuckled as they leaned next to her.

(S/O) "Lunch and a show! You sure you don't wanna give it a try?"

(Naoto) "Now that I'm looking at it in person, absolutely not."

(AN-94) "Oh, burgers are in the mess hall today? I have not had many opportunities to try them."

Truthfully, 94 had no preference on food, nor did she know any nuances that went into cooking. It was just something that never became relevant.

But she was wanting to try new things, especially if it made S/O happy.

She was quite perplexed looking at the burger, examining it like she would a new weapon.

When she bites into it, her eyes slightly widen at the variety of textures. She makes sure to take extra note of what S/O's preferences are, in the event she is ever tasked with retrieving a meal for them.

(AN-94) "Interesting...I can see why humans would like this sort of thing."

Since it's not required for her to eat, she keeps this food more as a reward after a mission than anything.

(Rosaria) "Interesting dish. These much calories are probably sinful for those on diet."

Rosaria quite likes how the meat inside the burger tastes.

If she can add some alcohol to the burger, then she's even more for it.

She didn't cook quite often, but it let her play around with different combinations to see what her and S/O enjoyed.

Though that being said, she didn't really understand the whole concept of a 'Burger Date'.

Was it really a whole new date if they just ate something a bit more exotic than usual?

Regardless, she makes sure not to eat them too often. She's not exactly watching her weight or anything, but too much of it would probably kill her.

...Now she had an idea.

Stelle enjoys food of all varieties but there is one thing that is her guilty pleasure. Junk food.

Depending on how one cooked a burger, it could be classified as just a normal meal, but Stelle was never one to sugarcoat things.

It was an indulgence food, and she loved it.

Of course considering her position as a Trailblazer, she probably shouldn't gorge herself, lest she feel sluggish during an expedition.

But that does not stop her from eating them with S/O whenever they ask.

In fact, all they have to do is give her the excuse. Homemade or takeout, it doesn't matter. She wants it.

Her stoic expression softens a little whenever she's eating with her S/O, talking about whatever really comes to mind.

That being said, she is quite picky where she gets the burgers from. If they give her or S/O a topping she didn't ask for even once, she's never coming back.

She wants to enjoy her food damn it, she doesn't want to fight gross ass toppings, on top of everything else in this galaxy that wants her dead.

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