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#colored food cubes
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you have to thaw them out like an uncrustable
Do they even still make those.
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catwhisker · 1 year
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Luigi Stimboard
sources: 💚 🌟 🧱 x 🌟 🧱 💚 x 🌟 💚 🧱
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cherryontopstims · 2 years
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♡ | by Talisa Tossell on YouTube
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I’m literally on the floor why did I not consider that replicators could make normal-ass food
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jaehoon-kim · 2 years
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Baileys Milk. (2) Incheon, South Korea, April 23, 2022.
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dilfartist · 10 months
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Realization
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Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader
Synopsis; the aftermath of your escape attempt.
Word count; 1.1k
Reader description; Female/GN
TW; yandere themes, dark themes, kidnapping, minor talk of wounds.
Notes; {first part.}
"Are you comfortable?" 
His query provokes annoyance. While, yes, the fluff provided by both the couch and large puffy blankets did satisfy you, you'd never express this to Miguel. Miguel is at your side, clad in a tight white shirt and Grey sweatpants. In his hands are a platter holding a drunk and a plate of breakfast. 
"No." You retort; the way it's spoken is colder than you intended. But why would you care? He deserves every bit of hatred spewed from your lips. 
The current time is eight in the morning, and the last thing on Miguel's today's list is fighting. Especially in your condition. Miguel releases an obstinate short-lived sigh, clearly not giving in to your stubbornness. He moves from your side to your front. Irratedly, you bark his name in an empty threat. "Eat." He persist, his voice losing a bit of the softness he talked with before. 
"I promise I didn't drug it. If that's why you're not eating." 
Ah, yes, you forgot being drugged was a possibility when he handles your food. 
Back when you first got abducted, you understandably were resistant to any form of tenderness. You acted callous. Ignoring Miguel when you didn't require to communicate your needs. Miguel wasn't too appreciative. Nevertheless, he was understanding due to your circumstances, and for a while, he begrudgingly left you alone. One day, Miguel wasn't having the best day; to say the least, his day had been extremely stressful. All he wanted was to be comforted by your touch, and of course, you aren't giving him any, so he sought it. 
You sat at the dining table, eating leftovers from the night before. Miguel entered the shared home, going into the kitchen. Wanting your affection, he forgets about your refutation and awkwardly leans down, puckering his lips to signal a kiss. You simply turn away. Pride wounded, Miguel retreats, angrily storming out of the room, and plops down on the couch. A couple of minutes pass, and you walk out of the kitchen, a glass of soda in hand, and sit across from him. Miguel eyes your beverage with a malevolent idea forming. 
Fortunately, on Miguel's part, you leave for the restroom. In his impulsive state, Miguel quickly departs from the living room to the kitchen. This wasn't the first occasion Miguel thought of paralyzing you with a sedative. On top of the fridge were the pills. He flicks the bottle open, popping two tablets in his calloused palm. He returns to the living room, dropping them into the liquid, and using your straw, he mixes the drink until there's only a slight visible powder at the bottom. 
Miguel rues his decision. Instead of earning your trust, he loses the faith that you had in him. The exact opposite of what he strived to attain. 
Famished and tired of Miguel's whining, you begrudgingly accept the platter. You settle the platter onto your lap. On the plate is French toast, the mixture of butter and syrup creates a brownish-orange color. On the side is cold tea with a handful of ice cubes floating at the top. 
Grabbing the butter knife, you slice the toast creating a rift and allowing the syrup to spill onto the glass plate. Bringing the fork to your mouth, you take a small bite. It tasted...fine. No bitter aftertaste of pills, just regular French toast.  
Miguel intensely observed you, even taking a seat beside you. For someone who truthfully claimed to not have laced your meal, he certainly doesn't make it appear that way. "Do you like it?" He asks nonchalantly. Not wanting to give him credit, you merely respond with an "it's alright," 
Finishing up your meal, you return to watching your show. Miguel gets up, sauntering out of the room. You assume he was returning work calls since he was taking off the week to nurse you back to health. You dismiss it, giving all your engagement to the television. 
Sometime later, you hear heavy footfalls from the hallway. You don't turn to see who it is because it's obviously Miguel. Miguel once again enters the living room, your name falling from his lips immediately. You continue to pay him no mind at all. 
Miguel is quickly agitated, "Look at me, (Name)." You whirl around, giving in. In Miguel's hands again is a tray. this time it holds neither drink nor food, instead medical supplies. 
"No." You absentmindedly mutter, sinking farther into the couch cushion. Miguel approaches you, places the tray aside on the table, snatches the remote out of your hand, and powers off the television. "Come on, lie on your stomach." He commands softly, throwing blankets on the other couch to have the couch bare. 
"No," you repeat like a petulant child whose mother asked them to do something they didn't want to do. 
"Now, (Name). The faster we get this over, the faster you won't have to deal with it the remainder of the day." 
He was right. For once. You shakily sigh, doing as he advised. Miguel takes your place on the couch, peeling your shirt upwards. The contact of cold crisp air against your warm skin makes you shiver. Never have been so interested in the armrest's design. Every stitch, color, and material now is intriguing. 
Miguel prepares the ointments and bandages. Then he unwraps the aged bandages in slow motion, hoping not to foist pain on you. Over a couple of days, Miguel has attended to your wounds on your back, and each time the sight never fails to have his heart sink into his stomach. 
Trailing from your upper back to your lower is three gashes on both sides of your back, parallel to claw marks. The gashes are deep and bloody despite the amount of medication he's applied days prior. Miguel figures they must have been caused by him clutching you when you went tumbling on the concrete. 
Now it's Miguel's turn to take in a quivering breath. 
Miguel brings over a small container holding a clear ointment inside. He dips his finger in, scooping out a good amount. Miguel's thick fingers gently glaze your marks, earning him a whine. As he continues, all that escapes his lips are gently spoken "m'sorry"s or "forgive me, bebé."s 
You want to hate him. Never think of the word forgive in a sentence when it involves him. But you can't; all you can do is forgive him because it's the only thing you can do to improve your situation. A situation you'll never escape. 
You have to forgive him, but never will you forget. Even if you wanted to, the marks on your back will always be a reminder. 
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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months
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Easy Money
Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader
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Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?
Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.
Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.
                       •°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•
The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.
The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.
I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.
The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.
The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.
All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.
The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.
Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.
A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.
"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."
The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.
My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.
Right now, anyways.
A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.
"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.
"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.
"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.
"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.
"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.
Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.
"You like the party?" He asks.
"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."
"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."
"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.
"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.
... what?
My confusion must be obvious.
"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.
"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.
"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.
"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.
"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."
"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.
"I'm Derek, by the way."
"Ah," I say. Derek.
Derek!
"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.
"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.
"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.
"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."
"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.
"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.
Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.
"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.
"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"
No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.
"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.
"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.
"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."
Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.
His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.
His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.
"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.
Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.
He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.
"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"
"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.
"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.
"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."
Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.
Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.
Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.
I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.
Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.
"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.
I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.
"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.
"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.
"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."
"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."
The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.
"You mind if we help you?" She asks.
"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."
The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.
"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"
The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.
The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.
The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.
"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.
"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.
I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.
"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.
"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.
"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.
Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."
The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.
A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.
"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.
I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.
"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.
"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."
"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.
"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.
"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."
Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.
"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"
I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.
"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.
"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.
"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."
I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.
"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.
Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.
"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.
"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.
My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.
"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.
"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."
Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.
"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."
I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.
"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."
"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"
Too long. Much too long.
It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.
"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.
"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.
"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"
I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.
"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."
"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.
"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"
"What toy?" I ask.
"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."
Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.
"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."
Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.
"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."
I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.
"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.
"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.
"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.
"Yes," I say.
"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.
"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.
"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.
I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.
"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.
The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.
I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.
My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.
"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.
"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.
People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.
"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.
I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.
Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"
I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.
"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.
I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.
"You look big," I mutter.
"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."
I think I will.
It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.
"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.
Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.
"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?
I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.
"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.
"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.
"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."
Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.
"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."
True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.
"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."
I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.
Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.
"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"
I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.
"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.
"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.
"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"
I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.
"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.
"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.
Cabo??
"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?
"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"
"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"
I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.
"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.
"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.
"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.
"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."
Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.
"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.
"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."
"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."
Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.
"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."
His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.
"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.
"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Excellent."
His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.
"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."
My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.
"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."
My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.
"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."
I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.
A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?
"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.
"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.
He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.
"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.
One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.
As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.
"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."
My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.
"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.
"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"
His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.
"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.
"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"
Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.
"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."
"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.
"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."
"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.
His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.
"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."
His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.
This is a hell of a paycheck.
"I like it," I say. He chuckles.
"That's not enough," he says.
"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.
"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.
"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.
"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."
He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.
"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.
"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."
It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?
"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."
"And you want me?"
"Fuck yeah."
He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.
"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.
"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"
"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.
"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.
"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."
I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.
"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.
Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.
"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."
His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.
"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."
I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.
"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.
▪︎《•☆•》▪︎
Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.
Masterlist
I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [Snippet] 🔞
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Jungkook just loves to show you off- because while everyone on his planet might get to look at you, he gets to touch and love you in private.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, Extremely flirty Jungkook, suggestive, Major Fluff!, Romance, Established Relationship, JK has tentacles oops, smut
Length: It was supposed to be a drabble but I ended up writing ~2.5k words oops
There is no taglist for this fic
A/N: Boo here you go hybrid alien tentacle porn yay 🥳
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"There you are!" Jungkook sighs in relief, finding you in an isle for fresh produce, staring wide eyed at the round plastic containers filled with cubed fruits. "You want those?" He asks, pointing at one with pinkish and pale yellow cubes. You nod.
"Sweet?" You ask, unsure, and he shrugs, pulling the item down to inspect it, before he nods.
"Yeah, those are sweet- but I gotta…" He mumbles the last part, reading the label a bit further while you begin to wander off again- though this time you're pulled back by his hand reaching out during his task of finding out more about the fruits he's about to buy, to hold onto the hood of your light cotton jacket to keep you close this time and not lose you again in the grocery store. "..safe for human consumption. Hm, there's nothing written about hybrids though.." He mumbles to himself before he pulls out his phone to search online if you can eat those fruits native to his home planet, hand now leaving your hood- one of his extra appendages sneaking out from beneath his shirt to hold onto the belt loops of your shorts to keep you close.
Basilisks- that's what they're called here, which confused you for a good while, until you learned that they actually didn't ever have a true name, but that it was simply an earth-term his kind had adopted to use for them, because it sounded like a similar word which means 'Blood-snake' in his native language. You remember how terrified you were of his uniquely inky-purple colored tentacles everyone of his kind has- mostly though because you met them when he'd used them to defend you both, the images still very vivid in your mind. But these days, you've come to love them as just another piece of him- even though you remember Yoongi, a good friend of his and your doctor currently, explaining to you that they do have their own minds.
'It's actually quite surprising they chose you.' He'd told you. 'I've never seen them so interested in their host's mate.'
Mate. It's still odd to think of yourself as that, though it makes sense with how he cares for and about you.
Jungkook is, nowadays, a bit more careful now with your food for example. He'd hate for you to have another situation like a month prior when you had eaten Nacuri- a vegetable he himself actually likes a lot, but that is apparently not very good for hybrids such as yourself, having caused you some major stomach cramps that pained him to simply watch- and ever since then, he's checking everything twice just to make sure. "-but can be eaten as a snack in small quantities." He reads out loud. "Alright, so only the small box then!" He chirps, putting the big container back to exchange it for a smaller one.
The moment his hands are free again, his inky-purple appendage disappears underneath the back of his shirt again, hiding away as to not get in the way, while he holds your hand as he walks through the different isles at the store.
He notices you yawning a lot more now as you stand on the metal parts of the shopping cart while his chest is warm against your back, and he's learned that's not always just a sign for tiredness in humans and hybrids. "We'll be home soon. I didn't think the line for checkout would be this long.." He tells you, hand running over your hybrid ears, while you suppress another yawn, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes from it. Oxygen levels inside buildings like these are fine for him and his kind- but humans and hybrids like you need a lot more than him to thrive properly. It's why he's got a special air filtering system installed in his home to accommodate for that- to make your life with him as comfortable as he possibly can.
It's the least he can do to show gratefulness for what you've done for him in the past, after all. And also, what kind of partner would he be if he didn't provide the absolute best for you?
He doesn't like how your ears droop after a few moments more- so he searches in your shoulder bag for the familiar pale pink plastic inhaler, setting it up with a few clicks for the proper dosage. "Here. It's almost our turn." He reassures again, offering the inhaler to you which you take with a nod. It'll help you with a bit of extra oxygen until you're out in the open again, levels today high for his kind, but perfect for yours. "Do you wanna eat the fruits in the gardens near the Archives?" He wonders, and you seem to think.
"What about.. those?" You ask, pointing at all the groceries.
"We can eat the icecream there too. I've got a spare blanket we can sit on, in the car." He says, leaning in to rest his chin on your shoulder. "I wanna have some.. cozy time with my baby, what do you say?" He purrs, and you shiver a bit, bunny tail wiggling around.
"Hmhm." You nod. You're not sure what entirely he means by 'cozy time'- because with him, that could honestly mean anything.
Later, outside on the blanket he'd laid out in the park in a more secluded space, you're happily filling your stomach with the fruits he'd bought you. He's watching fondly, because moments like these remind him that the past truly is behind the both of you. You no longer seem scared of anything as long as he's around. You speak freely to him, you're not shy at all, and you've even become a little bit daring these days.
You're no longer the empty, confused and almost soulless hybrid he'd met years back at the facility he'd found himself in. You no longer need to be told exactly what to do or otherwise you'll end up having a panic attack. You've become your own person, independent. You've blossomed, vibrantly.
And he loves it.
He loves you.
Especially now, hours later back at home, groceries still in their bags in the kitchen while you whine pitifully against his lips, with his grin satisfied while he watches you cling onto him. Something you've learned fairly quickly is that his kind is one that treats intimacy a little differently than humans back on earth. There's nothing forbidden or to be shy about for his kind- every type of intimacy or romantic displays of affection are normal even in public- no one stares at a couple kissing or hugging. If anything, people will just instantly believe a relationship is bad if there's no PDA ever between mates.
And sex? That's something sacred, it feels like.
Enio people just like himself find pleasure by feeding off of other's pleasure. They thrive when their partners thrive, they're happy when their partner's happy, and they're sad or in pain whenever their mates are. They also have relationships between multiple people- rarely ever having just one partner. Jungkook however had told you numerous times already that he's completely fine with just having you.
'Why would I ever need anybody else-' he'd said into your neck, '-when you're making me lose my mind every single time we're together?'
He's long lost his shirt by now, his dark purple tentacles already eagerly touching you. They're clearly just as excited as he is every single time you're together like this- and it's honestly almost cute.
Almost- if it wasn't for one of them very eagerly sliding right through in between your legs, back and forth, making you cling onto his arms as he watches you with an intense gaze. His eyes have always been something unique- like two pitch black voids, but only ever if the light doesn't hit them just right, making you able to see the deep red-ish brown and slanted pupils, similar to a feline. But in times like these, in the barely lit bedroom of his, they're just two nightsky colored marbles, reflecting anything like a galaxy.
His tongue runs over his bottom lip, licking over his silver piercings on one side. His grin is that of a predator, watching his prey struggle. But not for it's life- no, you're struggling for entirely different reasons.
"They're horribly impatient." He chuckles when one of his purple appendages moves to instead play with your pearl, before it prods at your entrance, almost as if to see if Jungkook will allow it.
He doesn't.
And it's clear with the way they retreat from between your legs, instead roaming your hips instead, before two of the four spread your legs open for him. That's how it usually goes- a rule set by him. Only he gets to be inside you- gets to claim you like that.
Your underwear is still hanging from your ankle when he pushes himself inside, hands gripping the soft flesh of your waist. He tends to be impatient like this, can't help himself, as he always tends to say to excuse his eager nature. You're perfectly compatible to him, physically and emotionally as well.
You're his, and he just can't help but want to make sure everyone knows that.
The windows are open, and your sure someone way down can probably hear your faint moans, but you can't bring yourself to care about it. "My baby.." he purrs into your neck, where he kisses and sucks his marks, hands gripping your body wherever he can while his tentacles roam around to offer you their own ways of pleasure.
You don't kind the almost sticky substance they begin to leak onto your skin. You've gotten used to it by now.
You're dizzy with everything going on around you. You're unable to quite move much, but you don't have to- both Jungkook's arms and his extra appendages make sure to keep you in place while his hips snap into yours, skin wet as it stays connected to his with thin strands of both your arousal and the sweet smelling precum of his tentacles.
A year ago, you would've tried to hide in shame of it all- thinking you dont deserve nice feelings like this. You would've never thought you'd be loved like this, touched like this.
But he's made that possible. He makes it happen time and time again, and in every touch he places on your skin you can feel the tenderness he has for you in his very soul. He's not lying when he says he loves you. He's not deceiving you with acts of kindness and care. He means every single affectionate gaze he throws your way.
You love him because of that alone.
"My sweet little bunny baby.." he chuckles out of breath as he rolls his hips in just the way to make you arch your back in pleasure, as he leans over you to kiss your lips bright red.
He likes to bite. Likes to pull a little on your bottom lip and likes to get you into any position he sees fit. Sometimes he'll kiss up your back as he takes you from behind- other times like now, he wants to watch your face as you come undone under his steady pace.
It fuels his ego every single time seeing you all fucked out like this.
Every time it's proof that he's a good lover to you.
The moment you come undone and clench around him in waves of pleasure, he's quick to shoot his shot as well- hips stuttering as he pushes himself inside, one of his tentacles sneaking between you both, running over your pearl just to coax another orgasm out of you, thighs trembling a little. You're somewhat glad his basilisks are keeping your body in place, because at this point you're just absolutely boneless.
He's humming in pleasure as he sighs into your neck, body covering yours now almost protectively. 'Shielding' is what it's called- you've looked up some of his behavior just to figure out things you're too shy to ask him yourself. It's an instinctual thing- a remnant of a time long passed when his kind had to protect their mates whenever they were in a vulnerable state.
And then he moves again, tentacles slick with their own arousal as they wrap around your ankles, adjusting your legs as he moves lower, his hands on your hips cherishing your skin it feels like.
And then his mouth is on you, licking you up, probably tasting both you and him in a sinful mixture- but it's another behavior of his that always repeats. He does this every single time, claims it's nothing special and that for his kind, it's basic care after getting his own fill of you. He's constantly surprised at what things surprise you- but then again, you both grew up on entirely different planets, with entirely different culture surrounding you.
So it's normal that some of the things you do tend to catch him off guard as well.
Such as after you're both done showering and cleaning up- he's always surprised how clingy you get after being so closely together just minutes prior. Normally, with his kind, it's like he's recharged his social batteries- now able to go about his day easily, no need for too much physical affection. But for you it seems to be almost the opposite- you love to cuddle and be close to him afterwards, and maybe that's one of the key points that just make you so endearing to him.
He loves cuddling. He loves being lazy with you, especially like this. "I booked our flight to Doria for the end of this cycle." Jungkook hums into your skin, letting you lay almost on top of him, skin still bare. "It's gonna be a long flight, but I already talked to Yoongi about medication in case you feel sick." he reassures you, and you just nod, way too tired to really comprehend what he's talking about. "You're not even listening at all, are you?" He laughs because he knows as well- though he doesn't mind. He knows your body works a bit differently than his own, and knows by now he can be… quite exhausting.
So he let's you sleep, and decides that maybe a short nap isn't the worst idea either-
especially not if he gets to sleep with you in his arms.
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nocturnowlette · 4 months
Text
If you want to fall into a puppy mind space much, much easier from now on (especially to me), read this post.
Hello. This is a nice visualization exercise as well as a look into our mind's sensory memory. This is also centered for puppies. It will work regardless of if you are one or not, but you may feel like a puppy during some parts of this. Very dumb and very happy.
This is best done in a dark room, your phone or monitor being the main or only light source visible. This script is also better experienced having read the first script I've made, here. It's not necessary, though.
This script is also best read imagining a voice, or reading at the pace that a voice would speak. Try to keep the text you are currently reading at the middle or on the lower half of your screen.
That being said, let's begin.
Now, the first thing I'd like to talk about is visualization. I personally feel as if it is misunderstood. When I speak about visualizing something, I mean our ability to simply conceptualize it. You know what a cube looks like, and you can summon a memory of it. Even if you cannot see it, you know what it looks like. I still consider that visualization.
I, personally, can visualize things in a more literal way, including color. I used to not be able to, but with enough effort and hypnosis, I was able to. This post will mention colors, but it is not necessary in order for this to work.
Now, let's talk about senses.
Our brains are sponges when it comes to senses. Out of almost everything, senses are some of the most impactful and longest lasting aspects of memories for us. How many times have you smelled something or heard a song or tasted a food that brought you back to an earlier place? Our minds store large libraries of senses, cemented deep within you and waiting to be called on.
And, in the right circumstances, they can be called on without that sense actually being present.
Imagine what a TV remove feels like in your hand.
Just like that. Somewhat cold, plastic, and smooth.
It's as if the remote isn't there, but all of the little senses and memories surround that invisible remote, until you can make out the outline in your brain just from everything you feel from it.
In your mind, at this moment, this remote is real in some way.
Now, I'd like you try and imagine something a bit more abstract, a brain made of glass. Inside of this brain is a special blue liquid.
This is your brain, and that liquid is your thoughts.
The more full your brain is with your thoughts, the harder it is to visualize. I'd like to drain a bit of this liquid out.
You come to notice that, at the bottom of the glass brain, there is a metal spout. This spout can, once turned, begin to drain the thoughts from your mind.
As your thoughts begin to drip out of your brain, you will feel your mind begin to empty, bit by bit. There's more and more room in your mind for my words to fill, to imagine things stronger.
An invisible hand appears, and, just barely, turns the spout on. It's not nearly enough to be considered a steady stream, but there is the occasional droplet leaking out.
Going...
Drip.
and then...
Drop.
So slowly, and yet, your mind begins to feel strange. A tad emptier, like your thoughts are swimming. The drips are causing ripples through the rest of your mind, and your thoughts feel like they're vibrating ever so gently.
Drip.
...
Drop.
...
Drip.
...
Drop.
...
With every
Drip,
you feel your thoughts begin to slow just a bit more.
With every
Drop,
you feel more and more relaxed.
The more you imagine this brain, the more you Focus on my voice, the more it comes to represent your thoughts. The more it Drips, the more your thoughts slow down.
The tap is turned ever so slightly more.
Drip...
Drop...
Drip...
Drop...
A slight, but very real increase in frequency. Little droplets, little thoughts, dripping out of your mind. Every new thought that comes in simply seems to Drip right out.
As you continue to Drip and Drop, you find that it's becoming easier and easier to Focus on this text. There's already some room for my words to fill your mind, and, much like these visualizations, the more of your mind you lend to Focusing on my words, the more real they become.
The tap turns a bit more.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Your mind is already getting noticeably empty. A fifth of the liquid has now drained out, leaving more and more room for my words to move in.
Your Focus on my words only gets stronger.
The tap turns significantly more.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
With every
Drip,
you feel your thoughts begin to slow more.
With every
Drop,
you feel more and more relaxed.
The drops are getting larger, bigger and bigger bits of your mind simply draining away.
More room for you to
Focus
on my words.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Steady, easy, Dripping and Dropping. Half of your mind is already gone. So hard to think. So, so hard to think. So easy to
Focus.
The tap turns more. Going...
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
25%. Only a quarter of your thoughts remaining.
Draining so, so fast.
However, the tap now closes.
Your mind is so, so empty, but not completely empty. I don't need you mindless just yet.
Focus on my words.
In a state like this, it becomes so much easier to visualize. My words are so real in your mind now, so concrete that they can help you imagine more complicated things.
Now, I want you to imagine a hand.
It is somewhat transparent, and light blue. It looks very simple, like a glove with an invisible hand inside of it. Despite the complex shape, hands are so native to us that imagining it is just so easy.
Right now, it is splayed out like it's preparing for a high five.
You see the hand begin to slowly spin horizontally, for a few seconds.
It comes to a stop, palm facing you again, before flipping backwards vertically, slowly and gently for a few seconds.
It comes to a stop again.
You can imagine it from any angles you wish, flipping and turning and moving. It's so much easier than you thought.
With every new angle and position, it becomes easier and easier to imagine. It becomes more and more real in your mind. More and more defined.
The hand slows again, with its palm facing you.
You can see each finger clearly.
You see its thumb, next to the index finger, then the middle finger, then the ring finger, then the pinky.
Each finger is individually controllable.
See it close into a fist.
See it open out, splayed, like a high five.
See every finger except for the thumb close.
The fingers, once again, open to the high five position.
My words are puppeteering a hand entirely within your empty little mind.
The thumb and middle finger connect in the middle between them. The pinky and ring finger move down to the palm, while the index finger remains upward, relaxed.
It's in the position to snap its fingers.
However, it stays there, not snapping just yet.
When I do snap my fingers, it will feel like a shockwave sweeping through your mind. You will feel utterly, utterly mindless, thoughts wiped away in an instant. Your focus on my words will sharpen, and the world around you will simply fall away.
I will begin counting up from 1 to 10. You will feel the tension between the thumb and the middle finger get stronger and stronger as it counts up, energy only getting stronger and stronger.
When I next say "Snap.", you will drop into a deep, deep state of trance.
1.
Feeling the pressure in the fingers increase, the hand now inside of your glass brain.
2.
The energy building surprisingly fast, an aura of power emanating out between the middle finger and the thumb.
3.
It Grows Stronger.
The aura beginning to form waves of power, ones that bounce off the walls of your glass brain. Feeling whatever thoughts you have left being disrupted.
4.
Stronger.
The power feels like a constant resonating denseness in your head, overpowering all of your thoughts. So Strong already, and only getting Stronger.
5.
Stronger.
Knowing that this energy is only a small fraction of the incoming snap, wondering just how powerful this will be.
6.
Stronger.
The aura is getting too strong. You notice a small crack at the top of your glass brain. It only gets Stronger.
7.
Stronger and Stronger.
The cracks make the outside world so difficult to see. My words and my hand consuming all of your thoughts. Feeling so intensely Focused on my words.
8.
Stronger and Stronger.
The crack continues to spread, the border of your mind becoming so loose, so deeply Fragile.
9.
So Intensely Strong.
Overpowering.
No thoughts.
Mind nearly shattering just at the power of it.
10.
Mind-meltingly Powerful.
The potential energy alone making you completely Mindless.
The cracks have spread to the bottom of your brain, all remaining liquid rapidly leaking out.
Dripping.
20%.
Dropping.
15%.
Dripping.
10%.
Dropping.
5%.
Spilling Out Entirely.
0%.
All Gone.
All thoughts completely drained out, waves of energy only bouncing more and more off the hollow walls of your glass brain now. So, so Fragile. Ready to Shatter entirely.
And yet,
11.
Still, Stronger.
Your brain should already be Shattered. Something is holding it together. If it wasn't it'd simply fall apart the moment it was released.
And yet, it only gets stronger.
The snap so strong now that it will annihilate your mind entirely.
Entirely engrossed in my words, so Deeply Focused on me.
Nothing else exists.
12.
The glass itself is almost turning to dust.
Stronger.
and Stronger.
and Stronger.
Already in trance, not even needing the snap to be utterly subject to my words. And yet...
13.
Snap.
Shattered.
Mind Completely Gone.
Utterly Subject to my Words.
Focus.
Focus.
Feel your Focus double every time I say
Focus.
Nothing else exists.
Nothing but my words, and the hand.
It continues to float, gently, in front of you, palm facing you.
It goes, again, into the position the snap. And,
Snap.
So deep, and yet Deeper and Deeper still.
More and More Focused on my every word.
You can no longer think.
There's no more place for your thoughts to go. Your brain is gone now. Thoughts might pop in, only to disappear. They vaporize instantly. No more thoughts.
In your thoughts, or out loud, I want you to
Bark.
So Easy to
Bark.
It feels so Simple and Natural to
Bark.
Whenever you see my posts, see my name, see my profile picture, you will feel a sudden, desperate impulse to
Bark.
Every time you see my posts, see my name, see my profile picture, or talk to me, you will feel the need to
Bark.
Sometimes it will happen automatically, sometimes you will simply want to. You'll see my posts, and desperately want to
Bark.
It already feels so Natural.
Bark.
...
The hand appears once again, moving to a snapping position.
1.
Feeling the pressure in the fingers increase, the power emanating through all of you, through all of my words.
2.
So Much Stronger.
The energy building even faster than before, the aura of power everywhere already.
3.
Stronger and Stronger Still.
The aura melting your consciousness, Focus only getting stronger.
4.
Every part of your consciousness entirely focused on my words, nothing left that isn't needed. Every single part of your mind directed towards absorbing my words.
5.
Snap.
Bark.
Every time you
Bark,
you feel your mind become so much more Open to me. So much more Open to anyone you trust.
Every single time that you
Bark,
your mind becomes Desperate for my words. It needs to absorb them. Any and every command is followed so Easily.
The only time you don't follow commands is when your subconscious feels threatened by them.
If you don't trust the command or the person commanding you, your mind will Simply and Easily reject it, and you will come out of trance immediately.
Unless that happens, you will
Bark
every time you see my posts.
When you
Bark,
you will become so, so Desperately Open to my words.
Your mind will be an empty sponge, and it will absorb everything I say. If you have a trusted one, or an owner, you will absorb everything they say as well. Happily and Eagerly.
Every time you're commanded, you want to
Bark.
Every time you
Bark,
you feel more Open to commands.
It's almost like a soft loop, gently pulling you down.
Barking and Barking your Mind Away~
...
Now, I will bring you out of trance. If you wish to remain in this state, you can stop reading now. it might be hard to get back, though, so only do this if you're sure. It can be very hard to escape, but your trance will fade over time, very very slowly.
Once awake, you might want to follow my blog. You might want to reblog this script. You might want to send me an inbox message telling me how it felt. You might want to message me directly, if you're brave enough. Though, ultimately, you can do as you wish~
...
Counting up now, from 1 to 10.
1.
Glass brain reassembling, forming back so perfectly that it feels like it never broke.
2.
Brain beginning to fill, thoughts returning so, so Easily.
3.
Brain getting so, so full so quickly.
4.
Feelings in your limbs returning.
5.
Beginning to feel aware of your surroundings.
6.
Focus gently releasing on my words, though still paying attention.
7.
Brain almost filled now, so close to awake.
8.
Feeling refreshed and happy, triggers cementing in your mind.
9.
All thought processes returning to normal, and
10.
Wake Up.
Hello. I hope you enjoyed. Consider reblogging and following my blog. I post a lot of hypnotic content and other various things, and you might find yourself rather magnetized to my posts. I intend to make more scripts in the future, so you can look out for those as well.
That being said, I hope you enjoyed, and have a nice day.
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ivysangel · 2 months
Text
Honey clings to your fingers, viscous and sticky, stringing every time it touches itself. Lines of liquid gold run down the curves of your hand, streams of goopy liquid pooling in your palm and flowing down your wrist in a few collective lines. You plunge your thumb back into the honey pot, the thick substance clinging to your skin instantly, and you bring your hand back up again, the honey only stagnant for a second before it starts its descent down your arm.
A large hand, strong and veiny, grabs your wrist. An unrelenting grip bringing your hand forth to him. He presses your thumb to his lips, smearing the sweet substance to and fro, to the corners of his mouth and back, leaving translucent liquid behind when he catches your thumb between his teeth, grazing the appendage and scraping it clean. A guttural groan sounds in the back of his throat, and you know that means he likes it.
"'s good, huh?" you watch the way his eyes flutter as he lets the rest dissolve in his mouth, ecstasy written all over his features. An emotion he only exhibits when he's eating good food or fucking you. "Yeah, really good." His voice is hoarse as if the honey absorbed all moisture from his larynx and left him in need of a glass of water, ironic given its effectiveness in soothing sore throats. "Thirsty?" you hand him a cup filled with cucumber water, a palate cleanser. "Real sweet," he says before tipping his head back and downing the drink. "But I liked it. What's next?"
Your eyes peruse the board of half-eaten sweets and treats in front of you, searching for one that was untouched. The beech wood board, previously a nice light beige, is stained a multitude of colors. Splotches of deep reds and purple form puddles where you had put the berries, frosting is streaked across the entirety of the board from the multiple unfinished slices of cake, chocolate chips and sprinkles from cookies lay scattered on both the countertop and floor, spoons and forks that were only partially licked clean can still be found near their designated desserts. Cubes of angel food cake half-dipped in chocolate and tooth-rottingly sweet marshmallow squares sit on napkins, drying out more and more by the second while long-forgotten brownies soak up various fruity jellies and jams, having been discarded with no regard for keeping flavor profiles separate.
It was a nightmare to look at, an even bigger one to clean up, and if anyone else had been the cause of this mess, you wouldn't have even begun to entertain the idea of letting it get this bad, let alone cleaning it up. But it wasn't anyone else, wasn't just some random stranger; it was Jason, and to you, spending weeks curating the perfect Valentine's gift to satiate his sweet tooth was a testament to your love for him. Who cares if you have to break out the good cleaning supplies.
"Hmm," you do one last once over, nothing catching your eye that hadn't already been touched, "I don't think so." unintentionally, you start to clean up, collecting dirty forks and spoons for the dishwasher, stacking empty bowls on top of each other to toss in the sink. "What a shame," he mumbles, appearing beside you seemingly out of thin air and taking the utensils from your hands before setting them down haphazardly right where they started. You look at him with confusion, silently inquiring about his undoing of your work, and you open your mouth to verbally ask but are stopped by the wolfish grin adorning his face and the way he begins to lift the hem of your shirt up. "d'ya think we got anythin' else," he asks, moving in closer, eyes locked on you like a predator with prey. "I'm still hungry."
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rassicas · 10 months
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bringing you the real splatoon news. live journalism. i tried the baskin robins splatoon sodie. a hodgepodge of artificial fruit flavor. vaguely citrusy soda with coconut jelly cubes. breaking the little flavor packets was fun. the ice cream is fruit punch, with the little green bits being white chocolate i think? i liked the Bits. the final image was several minutes into drinking it, having melted into a fruity slurry of green food coloring. the slop. what the media doesnt want you to see. they did a splatoon 3 BR collab late last year, but instead of the ice cream being tricolor it was just yellow and blue. i honestly liked that one more than the tricolor flavor, im not the biggest fruit punch fan. my curiosity was satiated, i got a cute cup and sticker, and something cold to drink out of it, so i dont regret it. but flavorwise? it was just. Ok. i wouldnt order it again.
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asliceofzosan · 6 months
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in which Zoro takes the blame for not paying for the food at the Baratie (sequel to Sanji witnessing the riceball incident in Shells Town)
Ribeye steaks piled one on top of the other, a massive helping of mashed potatoes with boatloads of gravy, salads, soups, and fancy dishes with names Zoro can't pronounce — all made up the massively long order list that he knows Luffy has not a single Berry to his name to pay with.
Zoro looks around the place, tuning out the story of the giant goldfish that Usopp has told them before, his eyes resting on the blonde waiter flitting about and flirting with every woman at every table.
Sanji was his name. Zoro didn't recognize it. But when he arrived to their table and saw Zoro, it looked like their resident waiter recognized him. Zoro's reputation in the East Blue is not a laughing matter, so it didn't bother him at first. But the way Sanji stared at him, wide blue eyes and with a touch of a smile on his lips, told Zoro that there's something a lot more than recognition swimming in that man's head.
He can't put a finger on what it is exactly though. It's driving him crazy.
"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?"
Sanji turns to him and nearly steps back in shock. Zoro quirks an eyebrow, confused and a little annoyed. He wore his best clothes today (Captain's orders). And he's pretty sure he even took his mandatory once-a-week bath before they went inside (Nami's orders). Still the waiter looked at him like Zoro had grown a second head. Like he couldn't quite believe his eyes.
"Maybe there really is something wrong with your eye," Zoro muses, crossing his arms as Sanji quickly straightens his posture and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Got a problem with me, waiter?"
Sanji coughs out a laugh. Zoro notes with narrowed eyes that there is the slightest tint of pink coloring his cheeks. Is he blushing? The fuck?
"None at all, sir. I think I was just seeing things." The look in the waiter's eyes betrays his statement but Zoro chooses to say nothing. With a practiced smile, he turns back to Nami and asks her how she'd like her water that makes Zoro stare at him this time like he's grown a second head.
"And um..." Zoro is surprised Sanji hasn't left yet and is once again directly addressing him. "We have a few specialty riceballs not on the menu today. I'll bring them out... on the house."
Without even explaining what the fuck that meant, Sanji turns on his heels and beelines straight for the kitchen.
"I think Nami's boyfriend might be yours too, Zoro." Usopp teases him with a snicker and the glare he gives him is sharper than the blades of his swords.
Now, here Zoro is, letting Ussop's words affect him more than they have any right to as he downs his third bottle of beer.
The specialty rice balls haven't come out yet. Zoro's starting to think it's just a sick joke. But he doesn't let it get to him. Or tries to. Why offer free food when you can't deliver on it? Fucking ridiculous. And no, it's not like he suddenly craved rice balls when the blasted waiter mentioned them. That's not it at all. Bullshit.
"Didn't the waiter said he's coming by with rice balls?" Zoro finally snaps and the conversation his crew was having died down immediately at his statement. Ah fuck. He probably should have just kept his mouth shut because Nami was now looking at him with a shit-eating grin not entirely unlike the one he gave her when he teased her before the meal.
"How would you like them, oh great swordsman?" She teases with a glint in her eye. She cups her cheeks with her hands in delight at the irritated snarl Zoro gives her.
"With or without seaweed?" Ussop chimes in.
"Cubed or crushed?"
"Fuck off," Zoro hisses between his teeth. Nami and Ussop share a look before bursting into laughter. Zoro looks over at Luffy who was swinging his feet and obliviously sipping his milk. When Luffy makes eye contact with him, he just tilts his head with wide blank eyes and it makes Zoro question all his life choices.
"You wanna ask him?" Luffy says, already clamoring over the booth and waving at the object of Zoro's unexplained irritation. Zoro sinks into the seat as Sanji approaches with the bill for their meal.
"Your bill, sir."
"Zoro's asking if you're gonna bring the rice balls you promised." Zoro just stared up at the ceiling and thought of a million different ways to cut a hole into the floor so that the ocean could take him.
There is a headache inducing silence that follows Luffy's question. Zoro can't help but finally look at the waiter and he doesn't know how to explain the feeling that bubbles up when they make direct eye contact. Maybe it's indigestion. It's probably indigestion.
Instead of bringing up the damn rice balls, Zoro just grabs the tray with the bill from Luffy's hand. Just as expected, his annoyingly endearing captain put down an I.O.U for the ridiculously long list of food they ordered. Several possible scenarios could happen from this. And Zoro doesn't want to think about Luffy wreaking havoc in someone else's kitchen.
With a deep sigh through his nose and a knowing look at Nami, Zoro wrote down his own name in place of Luffy's.
"Zoro, what—" Luffy almost took the bill back when Zoro stood up and handed it directly to the waiter, who looked just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.
"If your head chef's got a problem with that, he can talk to me directly. Tell him that for me, won't you?" Sanji takes the bill, reads what's written, and there's a phantom lurch in his chest that happens when Sanji looks up at him and smiles. Zoro doesn't want to describe it. He'll allow himself to firmly believe that it's a side effect of eating too much food. It's indigestion. You're just constipated. Never mind that the feeling is most prominent in his chest and not his stomach.
"Of course, sir." Sanji purrs and the sound runs like a cold river down Zoro's spine. There's a hint of mischief in the gleam of his visible eye. Every instinct in Zoro tells him it's dangerous. He should take his crew out of here, onto the Merry, and run.
But he stays rooted to the spot, wrist limp on the hilt of his sword, as he watches that damn waiter walk away from him.
"WHO THE HELL IS RORONOA ZORO?!"
The steady routine of washing the dishes helps quiet Zoro's racing mind.
It's a very welcome distraction. The clinking of the ceramic against metal utensils provides a cacophonous symphony that helps drown out all of Zoro's waking thoughts. The sooner he starts to think, the sooner he starts to notice how that stupid fucking waiter has just been sitting at the table behind him, cursing Zoro with his mere presence.
Scrub scrub scrub...
"You sure you don't want any help?"
Scrub scrub rinse...
"No."
Scrub rinse dry...
"I really have nothing better to do."
Zoro's eye twitches.
"Good for you."
A long silence follows this and Zoro thinks the waiter finally gave up. That was until...
"Are you still mad about the rice balls?"
"Oh my god!" Zoro nearly slams a pile of dishes onto the floor. He turns to Sanji, who is just casually smoking at the table, and stomps over to him. Once he was right in front of him, Zoro snarls at him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Talk about those damn rice balls one more time, I'm gonna chop your head clean off for them to use in tomorrow's ramen stock."
Sanji blinks, then turns his head to the side to blow smoke away from Zoro. Zoro tries to convince himself that he isn't staring at the way Sanji's lips purse around the cigarette in the process.
"I can still make you the rice balls," Sanji says without a single ounce of fear in his body. "I just couldn't do it while the old man was around." He then stands up and steps around Zoro with a practiced grace. "Are you willing to wait ten minutes?"
"I'm not hungry," Zoro hisses but his stomach betrays him with a loud grumble. He's been washing dishes for so many hours. He probably missed dinner.
Then, as Zoro straightens his posture, Sanji does it again — he smiles and Zoro doesn't know what to do.
"Sit." Sanji gently nudges a chair out with his foot. It lands perfectly in front of Zoro at a perpendicular angle. "I'll have them out in five."
"You said ten minutes." Zoro found himself saying, only to be contradictory. Sanji laughs this time and the resulting smile pierces Zoro's heart with a million cursed swords.
"When someone's hungry, I feed them." Sanji says simply and that's the statement that ends their conversation. Zoro still refuses to sit on the chair, instead finding himself gravitating towards the counter that Sanji was preparing his ingredients at and leaning against the marble.
Before Sanji found them at their table, he brought down a marine and a fearsome pirate with just his feet. Zoro was fascinated by his fighting style even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. But he's always been curious. Especially now, with Sanji whipping out the sharpest knives and using them effortlessly as Zoro would wield the Wado Ichimonji.
"You're good with knives," Zoro says before he could stop himself. Sanji chuckles.
"Of course, I am. I'm a chef. Best one in the East Blue."
"What's a chef doing waiting tables, then?"
"Cause I was kicked off the line this morning. It's a weekly occurrence, nothing special." The way Sanji scrapes his ingredients into a bowl betrayed how he felt about it despite his nonchalance. "I can cook better dishes than everyone in this damn kitchen but Zeff refuses to acknowledge that. It's always 'your food is crap', 'slice those carrots thinner', or 'needs more fucking oregano—"
Sanji throws the knife onto the cutting board, its tip now embedded neatly straight down the middle. It stood perfectly still, like it was afraid of what Sanji could do if he added more pressure. Zoro raised an eyebrow, looking up at the now irritated cook with a smirk.
"Sorry," Sanji mumbles, taking the knife and cleaning it carefully with a cloth. Zoro says nothing. He just props his elbow on the counter and places his chin into his hand as he watches Sanji in his element. Eventually, it's down to just shaping the rice balls with his hands and Zoro asks the question that poked at his mind during Sanji's mini outburst.
"If you're so dissatisfied cooking here why don't you just leave?"
Sanji pauses. His head is down, his blonde fringe obscuring one eye as his fingers twitch against the rice ball.
"It's not about that."
"Yeah?" Zoro leans as close as he could get with the counter between them. Sanji still refuses to look up. "A hot-headed cook who claims to be the best in the East Blue settling down here — where he is not head chef — is as contradictory as it gets."
"You don't know–" Sanji snaps but stops himself immediately. He looks up to glare at Zoro through narrowed eyes. "You don't know why I still stay."
"Enlighten me then, cook." Zoro leans his hip against the counter. "Because really, someone as good as you claim to be has got to have some ambitions. Dreams." Zoro holds the man's gaze. "Do you hate the old man?"
"No!" Sanji counters immediately. "The man fucking raised me. I owe him my goddamn life!"
"Owing him your life isn't the same as giving up your life to work at a restaurant that barely lets you cook."
"You don't know shit!" Sanji nearly slams his fist down on the counter, pointing a finger at Zoro with his face beet red. "This restaurant was his dream—"
"But is it your dream?"
Silence. Total utter silence.
Where color is nothing but a dark void of black and grey, a sea of blue greets him from the pages. Vivid pink skies and tangerine mangroves burst to life. All types of fish swim in his mind's eye but if he reaches out to touch them, it certainly should be real. A phantom breeze kisses his cheeks and water laps at his feet. He's drowning but he swims in delight. He's falling but he feels the clouds cushion him with warmth.
There is a vast ocean out there, one that contains delicacies and species from all four seas. Creatures of every kind, spices that have never been tasted.
The All Blue.
In Sanji's world of black and white — he strives to find the one place that's in screaming color.
There are tears in Sanji's eyes before Zoro could comprehend what was going on. But he wipes them away before he can get a good look at him. The kitchen was quiet around them. The only sound peeking through was the faint music from the bar outside. Though Zoro's heartbeat was louder in his ears than his own breathing.
But he could hear each footstep Sanji takes, the scrape of the plate as it's pushed in Zoro's direction, and the click click of Sanji's lighter as he helps himself to another cigarette. Zoro looks down and sees the rice balls presented in front of him — three heaping helpings, all coated in a different topping, all different flavors.
Zoro takes one.
And it's the best rice ball he's ever had in his life.
"I have a dream," Sanji murmurs, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. One glance and Zoro could see that whatever his dream is... it still burns like molten lava in the heart of this chef. "I'd just rather give up on it than die searching for mine."
Zoro swallows, turns around, and takes the cigarette from Sanji. The ashes fall into his palm, its embers dimming as he squishes it between his fingers.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Zoro says, looking up to make eye contact with Sanji. He can see it almost immediately — the longing for something that seems near impossible to achieve, the acceptance that it's hopeless — but Zoro sees it, clear as day, that the flickering flame of hope still shines in Sanji's eyes. That he's just waiting for his sign to let it once again consume his soul in a roaring fire, brighter than even the sun could be.
Zoro wants to see him shine.
"Come meet my captain," Zoro instinctively wraps his hand around Sanji's wrist. Surprisingly, Sanji doesn't pull back. "I think he'd really like to get to know you."
Sanji doesn't protest.
Zoro takes the rice balls to go.
Never waste food.
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heartfullofleeches · 9 months
Text
Hopping Ship
Yan Rival Restaurant Mascot + G.N Reader + Yan Restaurant Entities
Slow day....
Right in the middle of lunch hour too-
Scarce to see the restaurant so empty like this nowadays. After starting the new shift, you genuinely began to ponder if you'd finally lost your hearing due to the one-sided shouting matches from customers before realizing there had been a single since you clocked in and the silence surrounding you was very much real.
With so much free time, you finally got around to completing some tasks you'd be putting on the back burner for a while and a few you picked up while the janitor was out on personal business. They were gone every other week of the month, but you stopped wondering where they went after seeing them crawl into a black van one night after closing shit. It's impolite to watch coworkers who appear to be wearing your missing coat drag trash bags into unmarked vehicles after midnight.
You swept the floors, decorated the back office with some of the flowers the mascot left you and read a couple of their letters, created a sign out for the bathroom succubus to please at least put a towel beneath the door when she went on of her many "mandatory smoke breaks", and other duties which staked your claim as the establishment's most valued, living employee - all accommodating in the treat you rewarded yourself with once your break rolled around.
Sitted at the back of the fridge, behind the cooler you kept your gifted deer kidneys from the crying figure in the woods - a single fruit cup shined in all its syrupy glory. You tended to avoid eating coworkers food until their names appeared in the papers, but this little delight was stapled with a friendly letter for whoever came across it.
"For you~ (yes, the one reading this)"
That in itself should've been warning enough, but you were too hungry to care and not really in the mood for greasy fast food or ice cream from a bastard ghost. It was the perfect snack. Tiered with fruits representing all colors of the rainbow separated by rich, fluffy cream you assumed to be whipped frosting or some type of yogurt.
Snagging the cup and a spoon from the dispensery, you head back to the front to eat just in case anyone shows up. First bite in and you immediately notice something off about what you've just willingly ingested. What should've a sweet, succulent strawberry tasted exactly like strawberry cheesecake. The creaminess of its taste compared to its snappy texture threw you off entirely. You nibbled on an apple slice which tasted just like pie. Not exactly what you were going for, but you needed something on your stomach. Mindlessly chewing away, a faint hiss comes from beneath the counter.
"Psssst."
Must be another gas leak.
"Y/n - down here!"
You almost wish it had.
Peering underneath, you make contact with the frantic eyes of a former coworker. His face was caked in mud and his lips cracked from the clear signs of dehydration. You grab a cup of water from the soda machine which he near inhales, plastic and all. You take your seat back at the counter, poking around at your cup. "Hey, Noah. What happened to you last we I thought you the storyteller told you to go get lost in the forest and get eaten by bears."
"I was a boyscout growing up and all the predator animals in this area are dead. Get down - it'll see you!"
"What will?"
He tugs on your sleeve. "The rabbit thing that's been throwing everyone into that van! It's right outside!"
"Mm?"
Sucking a cube of peach cobbler off your spoon - you you peer outsife where another mascot stood - gloved hand extended a with flyer to the customer approaching the the door. The anthropomorphic rabbit was dressed in a red and white hybrid of a nurse gown and a 50s waitress outfit down to the pastel skates it wore on its large feet.. When the customer ignores the paper and went out of their way to walk around the strange figure, the creature dropped the flyer as it clasped its hand around their neck and hurls them into the open van beside it. Slamming the door on their ankle - the rabbit suddenly bends backwards with an audible crack facing the register as its ears dangle at its feet, waving at you with its Cheshire grin. You chase a grape around the container with your spoon.
"They seem friendly."
Noah pulls harder on your clothes. "Quiet! We need to call the police."
"Mmm... nah, they never respond to any of our calls anyway."
He groans into his hands. "Ughh- Ojay, we'll figure something out - just, don't make look that thing in the eye.
Bit too late for that.
The rabbit mascot had scaled the restaurant floor in about the same time it too you to swallow the bland frosting that served as a palate cleaner for the tooth rotting sweetness. It contorts to match your height, button nose inches from yours.
"Hello, hello, he-llo - where have you been hiding?~ I was looking for you. "
".... Hey, Noah? Can you actually try the police to see if they'll show up this time?"
The rabbit chuckles. "Funny too. I knew you were a catch from the second I laid eyes on you. That's why I had to make sure our first meeting was special and there were no..." Its eyes fall to the counter." prying eyes... Anywho! Did you enjoy the fruits I left for you?"
You shrug, mouth full of sugary melon. "I guess."
"Fantastic! Those at my establishment prioritize a healthy, and tasty lifestyle. I certainly hope you don't mind us treading on your territory, but it was the only spot in town fit for our dream. If all things go according to plan, you won't have to worry about the competition at all! Onto my big question - would you care to join our team? An experienced crewmate like yourself is just what we need and if you start this afternoon - I'll even make you manager! Even deal, wouldn't you say?"
"....not really."
"Great!-...." Its ears fall flat against its skill. I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I kinda like it here. Bring manager sounds like I'd have to do more work than I do now, and the the ball pit is a big factor to why I stay.
Soft clapping sounds from the play area. Confused, he mascot looks between your face and your half eaten cup. "Are you sure?"
You shrug again. "Pretty sure I am."
"Maybe take another bite and think about it harder?"
LYou shove the remaining bits of fruit in your mouth, using the time to chew as your grace period. "Positive."
"I see...." The rabbit's whiskers twitch as it snaps back to full height, spinning on their wheels towards the door. "No matter. I will be back for you another day with an offer you won't be able to refuse. Until then."
You look at the floor as they skate away. "I think it's leaving, Noah.... Noah?"
"Help me!"
You glance back up in time to see Noah being dragged outside and flung into the van as his captor grumbles something about just using sleeping pills next time. You official cross him off the schedule as you throw the cup away.
"If they'd just offer me their skates - I probably would've said yes."
You lick the spoon clsan as the ice cream machine whirls to life.
"Cheater!"
"Oh shut up."
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bethanythebogwitch · 8 months
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When they say "be there or be square", today's Wet Beast Wednesday subject chose "square". I am referring to boxfish. Also known as cowfish, trunkfish, and cofferfish, these real-life Minecraft fish are bony fish in the family Ostraciidae, sometimes called Ostraciontidae. This makes them close relatives of pufferfish and file fish in the order Tetraodontiformes. While all the Tetraodontiformes are weird-looking fish, the cowfish are easily the strangest, they don't even really look that much like fish.
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(image: the yellow boxfish Ostracion cubicum. They literally named it "cube")
The squarish shape of the boxfish comes from their unique skeleton. They have a carapace made of overlapping, hexagonal plates called dermal scutes that are the equivalent of scales in other fish. Each plate is composed of a soft and bendable collagen layer and mineralized surface layer. This carapace is very sturdy, with holes in it to allow for the eyes, mouth, fins, and cloaca to pass through. In game terminology, the cowfishes are stone walls. Because of the composition of the carapace, boxfish are fully rigid and cannot bend their bodies in any direction. This, combined with their not-overly hydrodynamic shapes, makes them slow and weak swimmers. When they filled out their character sheets they went all-in on defense and neglected speed and offense. A boxfish won't be winning any races, but the carapace is extremely hard to bite through or puncture, giving an effective defense. Despite their small sizes (the largest species can get up to 50 cm/20 in long, and most species are much smaller), adult boxfish have almost no natural predators. It's worth noting that while boxfish are slow swimmers, they are very maneuverable. They have the ability to create small vortices around their bodies to help maneuver.
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(image: a boxfish skeleton)
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(image: a boxfish with its hexagonal carapace visible through its skin)
Not satisfied with having an impenetrable shell, many species of boxfish developed another defense mechanism. When stressed, they can release poison into the water. These poisons are surfactants, substances that break up surface tension, that can damage the cell membranes of other animals. While each species has their own specific chemical and not every species is poisonous, these toxins are collectively called pahutoxins. Poison is a pretty common thing in the Tetraodontiformes. Famously, pufferfish, close relatives of boxfish, are highly poisonous. Most poisonous boxfish species are brightly colored. This is called aposematism and is used as a warning to potential predators that the animal is dangerous. A famous example of aposematism is the brightly-colored poison dart frogs. Young boxfish are typically more colorful than older ones.
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(image: a longhorn cowfish Lactoria cornuta)
Boxfish are voracious omnivores that will eat just about anything that can fit in their tiny mouths. The majority of boxfish species live in coral reefs and their diet consists largely of algae that they scrape off of coral. Additional foods include sponges, tube worms, mollusks, and small fish and invertebrates. Some species can spit out water to blow aside sand and search for buried food.
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(image: Ostracion meleagris, the spotted boxfish)
Boxfish are typically solitary, but occasionally come together in small groups. These groups typically consist of one male and a few females. Scientists speculate these groups are formed for reproduction. They are known to reproduce by swimming to the surface of the water, releasing their gametes, and quickly swimming away.
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(Aracana ornata, the ornate boxfish)
Because of their unique appearances, boxfish are popular in aquariums. They are recommended for experts only because of their ability to release poison. Boxfish are easily stressed and can kill themselves and other tank-mates by releasing toxin. Aquarists usually say they should be kept in solo tanks or with smaller, mild-mannered tank-mates. In addition, they need to be in tanks with minimal water flow as even the current of a decently-sized filter can blow them around uncontrollably. People who keep boxfish have called them shy, but highly inquisitive and even playful. They have been reported spitting water and their handlers, apparently in an attempt to get attention.
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(image: Lactoria forasini, the thornback boxfish)
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jaehoon-kim · 2 years
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Baileys Milk. Incheon, South Korea, April 23, 2022.
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Agere age guide
3 years addition
Hi every tiny and big! Make sure to check out my previous age guides!
Intro post
One year babies
Two year babies
I also want to add that not everything here will be accurate to all toddlers that regress to the threes and age regression is very fluid and individual to each and every tiny!
Traits And Behaviors
☠︎︎This is about the age that tiny tots start to identify with gender, they may gravitate towards certain styles and colors now
☠︎︎They can follow simple and short instructions
☠︎︎Now is about the age that these tiny tots start to like playing with other kiddos, instead of parallel play, they may enjoy playing together in games like dolls, they may build blocks together, simple puzzles are good too
☠︎︎Along side with being more interested in companionship, these kiddos may have a hard time sharing and need to be taught how to share
☠︎︎Usually in the two to three age range, these tots are just figuring out their emotions and learning how to manage their big feels, that being said, they may have a lot harder time regulating their emotions and they may have tantrums and meltdowns.
☠︎︎These babies are speaking in full sentences and are starting to express their needs with words and actions
☠︎︎Tots in their threes are starting to spring and walk around freely, you may catch them starting to climb things, jumping about, and running around the house. Even with these teeny toddlers starting to run about, their balance isn't the best yet, so make sure to be there in case they fall
☠︎︎These babies are starting to use the potty by themselves! Babies anywhere from 1.5-3 are starting to potty train, you may want to have these tots in pull ups when they go to bed but slowly, they'll become fully potty trained and need less and less help in the bathroom!
Activities
☠︎︎These tots are well on their way to doing most anything else any other kiddo can do! Big kid games may not be the best fit but most other things are on the table!
☠︎︎Sensory toys are tons of fun for these little babies, play-doh, sensory cubes, rattles and new textures to experience are lots of fun for these babies
☠︎︎Water play is a new and fun thing for these babies! Set up a fun bath with toys and bubbles and bath bombs and it'll sure be a blast for your regressor
☠︎︎These tiny tykes are starting to have more fun playing outside, mud pies and playing in the sprinkler are a must outside in the summertime and snowmen and Snowball fights will be tons of fun in the winter
☠︎︎Babies this age are starting to enjoy puzzles, playing puzzle games and putting together puzzles can be great fun for tots in their threes
The Foooddsss
These lil ones enjoy simpler tasting food, not many threes enjoy elaborate meals, a turkey sandwich with apple slices will do just fine. These babies are starting to figure out what they like and don't like, they've been eating solid foods for a bit now and they're trying new foods everyday. It's also important to note that these teenies are at a snacking age, they're rarely interested in sitting down to have a big meal three times a day, it's better to offer a bunch of small snacks throughout the day.
Shows And Movies
Similar to the ones and twos, these tiniest enjoy animated shows, maybe shows with shorter episodes since now these babies are up and running around. Movies may be a little too long for these tiny tykes but short shows are great, turning on shows like bluey, Daniel tiger or doc mcstuffins are great shows for these babies.
Boundaries And Safeties!
I think the most important note I could give everyone cg reading this post is just to get to know your tot, it can be awkward to bring up their tiny space especially if your baby is shy but the awkward conversations are important! Ask your baby what shows they like, what makes them feel safe, whether they like pull ups or they're potty trained, what foods they like, if they like to sleep with cg or they like to sleep in a crib, important questions
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