#energy without crash

[quickhealthyideas]

how i accidentally discovered the best morning hack ever ☕✨

okay but like… can we talk about how chaotic my mornings used to be??

picture this: me, 7:30am, hair in yesterday's messy bun, grabbing whatever random food i can find while my coffee gets cold on the counter. running out the door with a granola bar hanging out of my mouth like some kind of unhinged cartoon character 💀

and then by 10am i'm literally CRASHING. like full zombie mode. you know that feeling when your blood sugar just... gives up on life??

plot twist: everything changed because of pure desperation and bad timing

so there i was, running late AGAIN (shocking, i know), and i had to take my toddler to the park but i completely forgot to eat breakfast. i'm standing in my kitchen having an internal breakdown when i spot my protein powder just... sitting there next to my fresh coffee.

and idk what possessed me but i was like "what if i just... mixed them??"

y'all... Y'ALL.

that first sip literally rewired my entire existence. no joke.

✨ no sugar crash ✨ actually FULL until lunch ✨ energy that doesn't make me feel like i'm vibrating out of my skin ✨ tastes like a fancy coffee shop drink

i'm not even being dramatic (okay maybe a little) but this has been a GAME CHANGER for three months now.

the best part?? it takes literally 5 minutes. FIVE. i've timed it.

but here's the thing...

most people mess this up because they don't know THE SECRET. like there's literally one step that makes the difference between "ew this is chunky and gross" and "omg this is better than starbucks"

i learned this the hard way after making some truly tragic attempts 😭

it works hot OR cold btw - cozy latte vibes in winter, iced coffee queen energy in summer. post-workout fuel? YES. afternoon pick-me-up? ABSOLUTELY.

i've literally tested this in every possible scenario and it just... works??? every time???

real talk though

what really got me wasn't just the convenience (though that's chef's kiss). it's how this one tiny change made my ENTIRE day better. when you're not running on fumes and anxiety, everything else just... flows better??

my focus improved. my mood is more stable. i stopped stress-eating random snacks every hour. even my workouts got better because i'm actually FUELED instead of powered by pure stubbornness and caffeine.

if you're tired of:

chaotic mornings that set a bad tone for your whole day

energy crashes that make you question your life choices

feeling guilty about skipping breakfast AGAIN

spending $6 on coffee drinks that are 90% sugar

then maybe it's time to try the thing that saved my mornings (and possibly my sanity) 👀

the full recipe with the exact technique that prevents it from being chunky and gross is right here ← seriously, future you will thank present you!

drop a ☕ in the replies if you're gonna try this!! i wanna hear your success stories (or your hilarious failure attempts tbh)

[chillentertainer]

thinkin' abt a little john wick conclave au where thomas lawrence is an aging assassin who keeps trying to retire but then is forcibly brought back for "one last hit" (first said to him half a dozen hits ago). lawrence is tired and depressed and he might be really good at his job (and that might be the only thing he's good at) but that Saddens him. because is his only purpose in life to be a Butcher?

not to mention he just recovered from prostate cancer and is now thinking a lot about the afterlife and god and sin etc etc. he's sure he's destined for hell no matter what he does now. is there even any point in changing?

one day he's in rome, surrounded by all these churches. and he enters one. he goes into a confession booth. every week, he confesses minor sins that turn into lovely but frivolous discussions with the anonymous priest, who lawrence can only identify through his gentle voice and bright, easily elicited laugh that reminds lawrence of morning birdsongs. over the weeks, this blossoms into a strange kind of friendship.

finally during a discussion about their favorite kinds of tea, lawrence interrupts the priest's recommendation of kahwah, which they had so often in their time in kabul, and was so delicious, and they just can't find anything close to what they had here, isn't that a shame, and i beg your pardon, what??

i kill people, lawrence repeats. all the time. i want to stop but i can't. i want to retire but they won't let me. i'm afraid being a murderer is how i spent most of my life, and i'm afraid it's how i'll spend the rest of my years, too. i'm the lowliest of sinners. i'm the evil that should be wiped clean from the earth. if god cast me down into the fires of hell for eternity, again and again, i would gladly welcome it.

and there is a heavy silence during which lawrence tenses, waiting for a horrified outburst or some rage.

but the priest says, with infinite compassion in his tone, you are still here on earth with us. and so god, in his mercy, has given you time to beg forgiveness and find redemption. make amends, however you can. take no more life, not for any reason. you say you want to stop. then stop. i believe you have good in your heart. you would not have come here if you did not.

thomas says, yes, yes i will, i swear on His name. i'm sorry for having wasted all your time these past weeks, i should not have done so.

and finally he says, goodbye. because there's no point in returning and attempting to continue this friendship, not when the priest must be so disgusted and would want nothing to do with lawrence any longer.

the priest says nothing in return and it hurts but lawrence knows he deserves it. he deserves far, far worse, and god, why can't he be punished now or just die and suffer eternal torment, and then, maybe, maybe, his soul could feel some bloody relief. but the priest said, make amends. can't make amends if you're dead.

so lawrence returns to his miserable apartment, to try and make amends, whatever that means. he decides to leave rome and begins to pack. he wanders the streets in a daze and gives all the euros he has on him to a beggar. on saturday, the day he would've gone to confession, he buys kahwah from a bemused shopkeeper.

he returns to find his next assignment on his kitchen counter in the form of a usb stick. he doesn't want to open it. but if he leaves it alone for too long, they'll send agents to track him down and he'll get an earful from aldo. better to open the assignment and fool them now. he'll disappear from rome right after.

lawrence plugs in the usb stick. there's a name he doesn't recognize. he clicks through the research on his next victim that ray had meticulously assembled. there is a video. he hits play. a voice starts speaking. and lawrence spills his hot cup of kahwah all over his keyboard and trousers but he doesn't care because fuck it all, he does know his victim after all.

it's the priest he sat next to week after week, chatting about the merits of herbal medicine and whether agatha christie or arthur conan doyle wrote better mystery novels and about the incompetence of world governments. it's the priest he just confessed to about his true nature, that he wasn't just some englishman adrift in rome, but a cold-blooded killer. it's the priest that heard this and offered him a way out, anyways.

it's vincent benitez.

the video continues, as benitez smiles and waves at a young child, his dark eyes luminescent and kind.

now he has a face and name to the voice, lawrence first thinks, in a daze. he’s even more beautiful than i imagined him to be.

his second thought: what the hell did benitez do to piss somebody off that badly that they want him dead?

[rileys-battlecats]

WHY must the act of creation be so tiring. is it not enough to simply have The Vision

[anaconda-creates]

scary monster under my bed (essay i haven't started)(due tonight) maybe if i snuggle very cozy under the covers it wont see me and i'll be safe

[savrenim]

was going to try to get some writing done tonight but I am just. fully crashing.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

ahh no wonder yer art always feel like a fuzzy peach then :]

it's all scripted and edited.......it's all fake UnU </3 except when my computer's too old and slow to open up photoshop which is like. almost always now so i have to rely on my artist brain to draw the fuzz myself hhh xD fuzz DIY<33333

[daz4i]

thinks abt how i have plans for 2 days in a row that require getting out of the house and becomes so overwhelmed i want to kms

[kiera-raelyn]

I have been awake since... wait a minute. Was it really...? *checks calendar* Holy hell. 4pm-ish the 21st.

I woke up. Played 5 1/2 hours of WoW. Went to work until like 7:15am. Spent an absurd amount of time pricing various car parts and trying to figure out what work we'll be doing ourselves vs. what we want Professionals to do. Time with family. It was noon and I was going to go to sleep but then it was 5pm and I was definitely laying down for bed.

But then my partner puts starts playing the world's most unironically hilarious lewd game and I can't stop watching/playing (cause i kind of took creative control over his game. Oops). It's so bad. Like, My Immortal (the fic, not the fantastic Evanescence album) bad. We are fairly certain the person who made the game has never actually had sex before. Meat stick is not a phrase I want to see associated with a penis again. I'm also certain the creator is male (due to wildly incorrect notions about female anatomy, as well as female motivations, and just generally misogynistic things sprinkled throughout). Also fairly positive they're white or otherwise in a position of power within their country. Not only are the majority of female characters white, but the WoC who do show up tend to be caricatures. Or how a goth chic and Indian woman find common ground due to their differences from other people - like directly compared being brown to a fashion choice.

I just - the choices made in the development of this game. And like, I know it's not meant to be high art or something. It's the equivalent of my E-rated girly porn fics. But, seriously, my 12-yr old could write better smut. The mind baffles.

[happipappi065]

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[medicinemane]

Honestly though, my house is kinda like a literal phylactery for me, as in it sure does seem that there's a piece of my soul in this house and that I deteriorate severely any time I'm away from it especially if it's for more than one day

I'm not kidding that I think the biggest reason I got sick like I did was spending two nights away from my house and then having to leave it again two days later

It's one thing when I'm on a trip, that's a different kind of tired I get but there's some kinda agreement or something that this is just for a little bit

But like... leaving town just kicks my ass for a day no matter what

[databent]

bought myself a knockoff python water changer for aquarium maintenance btw. 100% worth the 40 dollars so far

[mayonaisalspray]

hhhh i think a bit to long about what an actual career would look like for me and i have to stop immediately lest i destroy my mind

[againstcrayon]

How does the fucking benchmark crash

[almonddirge]

I know it’s technically a good thing I’m no longer staying up until 4am every game update night, but man do I miss being able to. Now I play for half an hour and get so unbelievably exhausted. Takes me a week to get through one archon quest.

[recycledraccoon]

Y'all are so so right.

lucy frostblade, who is descended from giants, showing these little rats some kindness and reviving them after her party massacred them.

gorgug thistlespring, who is a half-orc raised by gnomes, using his strength and rage to protect his friends, being a creator rather than a destroyer.

two gentle giants who would have definitely been best friends. gorgug would have given lucy his metal flower in a heartbeat and she would’ve cherished it forever.

[barnesonly]

Imagine telling bestie!Bucky you’ve always had to fake it in bed with men… You know he’d fuck you till you see stars

STOP. you are a genius honestly. the bestfriend energy turning into fucking?? i’m so damn bad for this…. And bucky would be also so confident about himself in bed like UGH i just know HE knows how good he is… squeezing my thighs at the thought.

You’re walking side by side, milkshakes in hand, the way you always do after a long week. your hands occasionally brushing. It’s easy — it always is with him. Talking about everything and nothing — something stupid. First dates. Red flags. Sex that was just… meh.

And then, casually, like it’s no big deal, you say it.

“I’ve faked it, like, every time.”

He slows mid-step. “Wait. Every time?”

You shrug like it’s nothing. “I mean, yeah. Guys always think they’re doing a good job if you moan a little and say their name once or twice.”

Bucky blinks at you, stunned. “That’s…” He shakes his head, lips twitching. “That’s criminal. I think I need a moment.”

You laugh. “Relax, Barnes. It’s not like they were terrible. It just wasn’t… memorable. Or about me, really.”

He’s still looking at you — only now, there’s something behind his eyes. Heat. Focus.

“You’re tellin’ me not one guy’s made you come?”

“Not from sex, no.”

He stops walking. You take another sip of your milkshake, trying not to smile.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say lightly.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he mutters, jaw tight, voice low.

“Oh, you’re looking.”

He licks his lips, eyes dragging down your face, your throat, the shape of your mouth around the straw. “You shouldn’t tell me shit like that, doll.”

You raise a brow. “Why not?”

“Because now I can’t stop thinking about what I’d do different.”

There’s a beat of silence — thick, electric. You swallow, hard.

“…You think you could do it right?” you ask, teasing, testing.

He steps closer, leans in. You feel the heat of him, the weight of that look — the one that makes your knees go soft.

“I know I could.”

———

You’d said it was a bad idea.

That crossing that line would ruin everything.

But now you’re ruined in a completely different way — your body spread beneath him, flushed and trembling, every nerve frayed raw from the way he touches you like he’s memorizing it. Like he’s waited years.

He kisses you like he owns your mouth. Fucks you like he wants to prove every man before him was a waste of time.

“Look at me,” he growls against your throat. “I wanna see it.”

Your eyes flutter open just as your body clenches around him again. You moan his name, your voice cracked, your legs shaking.

He watches, entranced — every twitch, every gasp, the way you fall apart under him, for him.

“God, Bucky—” you gasp, and he leans down, lips brushing your ear.

“You feel that?” he pants, dragging his cock deep again, slow and deliberate.

You nod helplessly, mouth open on a cry as he fucks into you again — rougher now, steady, each thrust angled perfectly to grind against that devastating spot inside you. His name tumbles out of you over and over, no space left in your brain for anything else.

“Bucky—oh, fuck—don’t stop—”

“I’m not stoppin’, baby,” he growls, gripping your hips tighter. “Not ‘til you give it to me again.”

He lifts your legs over his shoulders without warning, folding you in half, and the new angle knocks the air from your lungs. You sob, reaching for him, your hands trembling as they claw at his back.

“That’s it,” he hisses, watching you unravel. “You gonna come for me again? Let me feel it?”

Your whole body’s on fire, skin flushed and slick with sweat, muscles clenching around him so hard it’s a miracle he doesn’t come first — but he holds on, jaw clenched, arms straining as he pounds into you like he means it.

You break with a cry — raw and shaking beneath him, thighs quivering, your release crashing through you like lightning. And Bucky loses it.

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight—god, you’re perfect,” he gasps, driving into you harder, chasing his high as your body pulses around him. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He buries himself to the hilt one last time and groans, deep and wrecked, as he spills inside you, his entire body going tense, then trembling against yours. His mouth is on your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach, pressing kisses between desperate breaths.

“You okay?” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours.

You nod, dazed. “I… I saw stars.”