#TALLY DEALER

[emeraldsoftwares]

Best 10 features of Tally Prime

What is Tally Prime? Tally Prime is an advanced version of Tally ERP 9. While maintaining the simplicity of the Tally ERP 9 software, it offers a flood of new capabilities to help you optimize numerous processes, resulting in a more fluid workflow and better productivity. It offers entire business solutions to small, medium, and large organizations in order to meet their ever-increasing company…

[frozenchikenporkbeef]

We have persistently offered premium quality frozen meat products "Frozen Chicken , Frozen Pork and Frozen Beef" We are putting forth an entire scope of Frozen Food items. We are tallied among the main exporters, shippers and dealers of Frozen Meat Products, for example, Halal Frozen Chicken, Chicken Eggs, Frozen Beef, Frozen Pork and that’s just the beginning. We export our items to the USA, UK, Europe, Middle East, Africa , Asia and different nations for its freshness, predominant quality, important nourishment and in addition driving edge innovation. Our offered items are synonymous to unmatched quality and also norms. We are a wholesale food distributing company with a large history of selling fresh and frozen food like frozen chicken, beef, and pork. Since 1994 , We have been a wholesale distributing company of some of the biggest brands of Brazilian goods such fresh and frozen poultry food of brand producers, We focused mainly in Frozen Meats - Beef, Pork, Poultry Products. We have representative offices in Belarus, China and Argentina and we are dealing with over 30 countries worldwide. The company has more than 33 years of working experience within the meat sector. We hold strong relations with Baltic producers. The industry has but one goal, to provide healthy chicken and promote health and happiness around the world. Well not all the chicken that is produced goes out. Brazil's chicken production in 2016 reached an astounding 13.4 million of which 66% stayed home. It was necessary because Brazil is one of the top chicken consumers in the world. The per capita consumption of Brazil is 41.8 Kg which needs to be met.

[blueywrites]

'cause I ain't had nobody hit it like you hit it (2/2)

dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love! read part one here.

3.6k

cw: 18+. smut, references to hard drug use, unprotected piv, situationship becoming something more, shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, eddie embarrasses the fuck out of reader but don't get it twisted, he's down bad, no y/n, no physical descriptors

an: sorry for leaving y'all on that little cliffie in the first part. I hope this makes up for it! 😉 also, make sure you check out the fanart if you haven't already - there are some specific allusions to it in this part, and it'll enhance the experience if you've checked it out. accreditation: I attribute those clever details to the very talented artist 🩵

now, enjoy the utter filth! xx

The sound is a bucket of ice water down your spine. Your back stiffens ramrod straight as your grasping fingers find the front of Eddie’s tank, fisting it up tight in a startled search for comfort. Eddie separates his lips from yours with a loud click, an annoyed frown already marring his brow as he cranes his neck to look around you toward the closed door. When the knocks come again in quick succession, there’s a split second you think he will tell you to get off him, and your stomach swoops with something just short of devastation. But Eddie doesn’t even bother asking who it is; he keeps cupping your cheek even as he barks harshly, "Busy, man. Go take a walk, come back in ten minutes." 

After a brief pause, you hear the creak of wood followed by the plodding steps of whomever had come calling descending the porch stairs. It’s somewhat of a relief, but the interruption has disturbed the haze you’d fallen into. You almost want to ask who that was, if Eddie’d been expecting any visitors or customers other than you, but you bite your tongue, not wanting to dampen the mood between you two even farther. As your heart keeps racing while you attempt to regain your composure, your eyes search his face. They flit about before being captured by deep brown, ensnared by the look he’s leveling you with. Eddie’s gaze bores into yours, dark with longing and mischief as if he’s daring you to defy him. 

As if he can see through your eyes straight down to your soul and all that it longs for.

The tension returns in an instant— sticky and hot as your thighs flex around Eddie’s hips, and the subtle shift reminds you he’s still buried inside. Your desire for him simmers like an ache low in your belly, plaintive and wanting. And he must read that on you, because despite the clock ticking down the seconds until his visitor returns, Eddie just has to tease you.

"Yeah?" His voice is a low whisper, a teasing challenge that sends a shiver down your spine. "S’like that, huh? You want me to make you cum now?" He glances up at the wall behind him, drawing your eyes to a row of scrawled lines— a tallied record of the pleasure he gives. It’s yet another way he’s found to rile you up, a reminder displayed in a place you can’t help but see every time you visit him. "And you think you’ve earned another tally?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze again. "Need it, Ed..." you whisper, your heartbeat rabbit-fast at the prospect of him really giving it to you.

His smirk widens, a flash of smug satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Aww, baby needs it so bad," he teases, his tone laced with mock sympathy before it darkens. "You're such a fuckin' whore. But only for me, right?"

A heady mix of desire and shame courses through you, slinking through your veins, burning you up inside. Because, for all intents and purposes, he’s right: you are a whore, giving yourself to your dealer like this. And this thing between you and Eddie may be more than that to you— may be more to him, too, though you don’t know for sure— but on the surface, that’s exactly what you are. A whore, only for him.

It’s demeaning and nasty and so fucking arousing all at once. 

"Mhmm." A strangled hum of agreement is the most you can manage through your mortification. Even so, you know that won’t be enough for Eddie. 

"Tell me," he demands, his voice a low growl that makes your pussy flutter around him; his fingers tighten on your hip, blunt nails biting in, dimpling your softness. His expression doesn’t change, but you know he likes being able to affect you with just the sound of his voice and the things he makes you say.

"I-I'm a whore for you, Eddie..." you admit, forcing out the words though they make your face positively burn. "I'm your whore—"

His hand crawls into your hair, pulling you back, and you moan as your neck stretches tight. "That's fuckin' right," he says, licking up your throat. You gasp and tremble. "My good little whore."

The teasing is becoming too much; you’re so turned on, you’re nearly beside yourself. You need to move; need him to move. "Please," you cry, whiny and pathetic, your eyes prickling with frustrated tears.

It’s all part of the game, of course-- his casual dominance, your needy desperation. But a harsh exhale against your chin shows that Eddie isn’t as unaffected as he wants to appear. Without ceremony, the still-smoldering joint, only half smoked, is ground out against the edge of the wooden coffee table and dropped into an old bottle. With both hands now free, Eddie pulls you into his chest, his grip firm and possessive, his palms spanning great swaths of your back and his fingers stretched wide. 

Low and husky, he murmurs, "Hold on now, kitten.” 

Hastily, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as his hands dip, dragging down until his fingers dig into your bare ass cheeks. You moan quietly at the rough neediness in the gesture as he manhandles you up so he can slide himself down further on the couch, planting his feet wide on the carpet, his dark jeans and checked boxers pulling taut just above his knees. He’s still stretching you out on his dick, and you bite your lip at the duality of feeling: the dull pain where your skin dimples under his hands, the low pulse of pleasure as his shifting presses him deeper into you. 

You’re anticipating it, and still you choke on a gasp as Eddie uses his grip to slam you down onto his lap just as he thrusts up into you hard— once, twice, again, quickly setting a brutal pace that, if you weren’t so wet for him, would ache in quite a different way. As it is, this ache is exactly what you need— bruises on your ass from his blunt fingertips, burns on your knees from the scratchy cushions, and the battering of Eddie’s cock bullying deep into your pussy, making you feel so fucking good. 

He grunts as you dig your nails into the sturdy, smooth lines of his shoulders, holding onto him tight; you bury your whimpers in his neck, the sound muffled by the heat of his skin as he pounds into you with dizzying ferocity. But that just won’t do, because Eddie wants to see you— wants to see the way he wrecks you. Briefly, one hand leaves your ass to pull you back by the scruff of your neck. You whimper as you lose your hiding place but you don’t fight him, obeying despite the desire to burrow away from his discerning stare. 

"Just needed my dick all the way inside you, stretching this wet little hole out, didn’t you." Eddie chuckles, his gaze burning into yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, hitching with every bounce of his thighs against your ass. "I know you did. You’re always so fuckin’ desperate for it."

You shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze, the heat rising to your cheeks as you try to avert your eyes, but you know he sees right through you. Every movement, every glance, every subtle shift of your body betrays the desire that burns within you.

Mercifully— or maybe unmercifully— Eddie goes on without expecting a response. "Comin’ over here, wearing your tiny little shorts, sittin’ on my couch, staring at me when you think I don’t see," he continues, his voice a low rumble that makes your scalp tighten as he leans in and murmurs in your ear. “No one else is givin’ it to you as good as me, huh? That why you gotta beg me for it?” As he mocks you, you squirm in his grip, embarrassed even as your pussy squeezes tight, your body betraying you with its unrelenting arousal. 

"Shit, you feel so fuckin’ good," Eddie mutters quietly against your cheek. "Love your little pussy." 

You go boneless on him as the embarrassment mixes with adoration. You tuck your face against his neck again, and this time, it’s not to hide. Your hands snake down his tank to claw at his back, nails dragging lines across his skin as you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses over his throat, lavishing him with the depth of your feeling. His words vibrate under your lips. “That’s right, just like that. I gotcha. My pliant little fuckdoll.”

"Oh," you moan, your voice barely above a whisper as you surrender yourself to him completely. "Fuck—"

"Could do anything to you, hm?" Eddie rasps, never faltering in his pace as he fucks up into you.

As your breasts rub against his clothed chest, your hard nipples quickly become oversensitized by the friction, spurring you to meet him thrust for thrust. "Yeah, yeah," you gasp, your voice trembling with need, nearly overwhelmed by his words and the feeling of his fat tip kissing that spot inside. He’s working you so quickly at this angle that you nearly see stars. "Whatever y’want,” you slur, well on your way to being cock drunk. “M’your good girl, Eddie."

He chuckles, amused and fond. "That’s why you get the free ride, babe,” he tells you. "Cause you’re just so good."

There is no deliberate thought driving you anymore, just instinct as you ride him with abandon— tits shaking, ass rippling, head thrown back, mouth open, fists in his hair, drool on your chin, arousal leaking onto his thighs. Your lashes flutter, eyes half rolled back as you start to ascend.

“Jesus Christ, I swear, you’re—” Eddie pauses, swallowing harshly, like he’s gulping back what he almost said. “You’re so sexy like this,” he rasps finally, breath ragged, biting his lip when you throw it down harder on him. “So sexy. All mine.”

My whore. My fuckdoll. Mine, mine, mine. That sentiment makes you bold. You summon all your faculties to pull your face back from his neck and tip your head coquettishly, looking down at Eddie like you own him and not the other way around. 

“Yeah, baby?” It’s a little breathless with effort, but still, you manage to sound sultry in a way you almost do not recognize. “You like that?”

Eddie’s pupils blow wide. He chuckles breathlessly, but he doesn’t look amused. “Go’n, fuck me,” he grits out, and his eyes are pitch black with desire, but as you keep looking down at him, there’s a flash of something else— something more akin to awe. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

And you do, more than you ever have before. The room collapses to nothing but the slapping of skin on skin— furious, sweaty, gasping plunges downward met with equally sharp upward thrusts that gradually have him sinking lower on the couch. By the time Eddie’s ass slips to the edge of the cushion, you’re slumped over him, hands squishing up his cheeks, lips mashed together, kissing like you need him to live. Each time he punches in, you keen like a wild animal, the sound garbled and mixed with his low, rasping whines. There’s salt in your mouth and you don’t know whose sweat it is, his or yours. Eddie’s breath puffs from his nose like he’s sprinting for his life; one of his damp curls tacks to your cheek as your bodies writhe together all slick, sticky, wet. You’re fucking each other so hard it almost hurts—

And then it does hurt, because on your next desperate bounce, Eddie’s ass slips off the couch, toppling you both to the floor.

Buzzing with adrenaline and on the knife’s edge of your orgasm, the fall only radiates dull pain for a moment before you’re over it. You lift your face from the carpet to see Eddie’s head all wedged up at an angle against the couch’s leg, his arms splayed, legs still caught in his pants and boxers like he’d tripped taking a piss or something. Your eyes hone in on his cock— wobbling in the air, flushed and slick with you down to the matted-curl base, miraculously still hard and, most importantly, entirely unharmed. 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie groans, his face contorted in a pained wince. If you weren’t so close to cumming, you’d ask him if he was okay, but as it is, your only thought is to crawl on top of him and hastily throw your leg over his hip. Before he can even blink, you’ve impaled yourself on his cock, engulfing him in the heat of your throbbing pussy with a filthy, wet squelch. 

“Oh, fuck!” It’s a ragged moan this time as his mouth falls open, the cords of his neck pulling tight on an even more strangled sound as you go right back to fucking him like he asked you— like you mean it.

Pleasure returns in an even more potent swell as you consider how feral it is that you and Eddie are now fucking on the floor like animals. You’re making sounds of pained ecstasy, punching them out of yourself as you slam down on him until he’s hitting so deep you can feel it in the back of your throat. Your muscles are quivering, burning with effort, so much so that you can’t help but collapse forward, bracing your forearm against the edge of the couch cushion. You whimper as the move changes the angle, dulling your pleasure, but you can’t find the strength to hoist yourself back up while still chasing your orgasm— and you need to cum so badly now that you want to fucking cry. 

But Eddie’s got you. When you slip, he’s there the next moment tilting his hips, matching you thrust for thrust, hooking an arm around your back and pressing his forehead against your sternum. His skin is hot, sweaty and tacky, and his breath huffs ragged over your bouncing chest for a moment before he presses his face into the plush curve of your breast. 

And then you hear it: Eddie’s voice breaking as he moans out your name against your skin. 

Dizzying flutters burst in your chest just as pleasure twists violently in your belly, a throbbing ache you can feel pressing at your walls, clawing its way up to break the surface inside you. You heave a tight sob as you cum, back arched, neck straining, consumed whole by the intensity of the feeling. Distantly, as if through a tunnel, you register a brief flare of pain; your spasming pussy clenches around Eddie’s kicking length as the pleasure peaks at the sensation, breaking in waves that gradually gentle and then finally ease. And it’s when you collapse weakly against Eddie’s chest, quivering as his arms fold around your back, that you realize the pain you felt was Eddie’s teeth sinking into your breast as he came with you.

When you finally have the strength to open your eyes, you're both still breathing fast, Eddie's bare arms bunching up your disheveled tank and sticking to your lower back as he holds you, panting into your mouth. "Shit," he mutters, chuckling under his breath. "That was..." 

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but you understand his meaning. It was really fucking good— better than usual. And maybe it was because there was a thrill in trying to finish before his visitor returned, but maybe... maybe it was more than that.

“Even the part when you fell on your ass?” You whisper, smiling when his eyes crinkle.

“Sure,” he offers. “Even that part.”

You hum, nudging your nose against his, and when you pull back, there's a strange glint in his eye— something fonder, sweeter than it had been before. You smile at him again, and maybe he sees something in your gaze too, because he doesn't kiss you filthy, nor peck you as a quick punctuation to your fucking. Instead, he strokes back your hair, his brown eyes darting down to your lips. And as he leans in, your heart thumps—

That infernal pounding starts up again, louder this time and accompanied by the muffled sound of a male voice calling impatiently, "Hey, Eddie, open up— I ain't got all day, man!"

Your stomach lurches. Has it really been ten minutes? 

Not that it matters, you berate yourself, ‘cause he’s back, and you’re still naked on the fucking floor. You dismount Eddie quickly, collapsing down to all fours so you can reach for your clothes where they’re bunched under the other side of the couch. As you scramble to your feet, tearing your panties and shorts up your legs, you hear Eddie curse quietly under his breath. 

"Gimme a goddamn second!" he snaps, still lying on the ground, lifting his hips and shimmying up his boxers with a level of nonchalance that belies the urgency of the situation. 

You climb onto the couch, your chest heaving from adrenaline and exertion as he pops up in front of you, hopping several times to get his tight jeans the rest of the way up. He flops down on the other side, spreading his legs comfortably, seeming content to just let his belt hang open like he can’t be bothered with it. You glance at him skeptically to see he’s already looking back at you with the same expression, though his is also tinged with some amusement. It takes you a beat to realize why, but when you do, you rush with prickling panic. Because your top’s still rucked up around your collarbone, leaving your bare tits, complete with the new impression of Eddie’s teeth, on full display. Miraculously, you manage to yank it down just as the front door knob twists sharply.

And then, to your horror, the door pops right open.

Your jaw goes slack as a guy around your age— rail thin and pale, dressed in an oversized flannel and a ratty pair of jean shorts— steps into the trailer. Eddie grunts a casual greeting, nodding at the visitor as he lopes up to the couch just as casually, slapping Eddie’s lazily outstretched palm like they’ve done this a million times before. You’re still attempting to process the fact that the front door has been unlocked this entire time when the guy casts a cursory glance your way, his eyes quickly flicking you up and down. You snap your mouth shut, your lips pressing into a flat line as you pull your legs up like they can shield you from his appraisement.

“Hey, man,” Eddie says, cracking his neck to the side. “How was that rock I hooked you up with last time? Good shit, right?”

Obviously a customer, then. You try to ignore the exchange, but you’re inescapably conscious of the fact that this guy could’ve walked in on you and Eddie fucking at literally any point in time. That awareness prickles as you shift, trying to mimic Eddie’s casual posture, though your attempt fails miserably as you feel a small gush of wet warmth leak between your thighs. You blanch as you realize Eddie’s cum is probably dampening your shorts; quickly, you adjust your legs, hoping to conceal the telltale spot. But your traitorous mind can’t help but consider how you likely look— hair mussed, lips swollen from Eddie’s kisses, one strap of your stretched-out tank top sagging down your arm. Like I’ve been totally fucked stupid, you think sourly, casting a flat look toward Eddie who, aside from a sweaty face and lips that are just the slightest bit puffier than before, appears no worse than normal.

Your fingers tap an impatient beat against your knee as you wait, eager for them to finish up so this awkward situation can be over already. The exchange drags on until the guy is finally pocketing his product as Eddie counts his money. 

“Alright,” Eddie says at last, leaning to one side to stuff the bills in his pocket. “Pleasure doin’ business.” You hold in a relieved sigh as he jerks his chin up in a nod, flashing his customer a friendly look that’s half warm eyes and half sharp teeth.

The guy’s about to turn toward the door when Eddie speaks again, and the feigned innocence in his tone makes your stomach sink.

“Oh, shit, almost forgot—”

His ringed hand stretches out, rooting around on the messy side table for a moment before snatching up a ballpoint pen. Your eyes widen in disbelief as he glances behind him, casually reaching up and scratching another line into the wall— drawing everyone’s eyes to the tally marks and, in particular, to the words written above them.

Cum counter.

All you can do is stare at Eddie, utterly at a loss. "Now get the fuck outta here," he says to the guy, his eyes never leaving yours. "My baby's tired, and it's time for her nap." 

And that motherfucker smiles at you— so wide his cheek dimples.

Not his whore; not his fuckdoll. His baby. Your heart swells behind your ribs even as your body heats several degrees with mortification; the customer’s long gone before you can decide whether to kiss Eddie or kick him. 

It’s a decision you’ll have to make a lot from now on.

[spokenfromtheheartandsoul]

funniest part of ray trying to tally up of sand's 20 side hustles and make sense of it is that while part of it is just him being genuinely intrigued by sand, it also seemed like there was the rich boy part of of him that's genuinely baffled by the concept. ray's like, "so you're a singer AND a drug dealer AND a moonshiner and you're STILL poor? jeez, how bad is the economy right now? i wouldn't know"

[togenabi]

apothecary diaries

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x fem!reader

♡—you need peppermint for a salve you're making, but sanji bought all of it, and that's seriously not fair.

word count♡— 3.7k

genre♡— fluff

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader runs an apothecary and likes to make things, inaccurate chemistry for the sake of the story, mentions of flames in bottles, please do not do that, no use of y/n, not fully proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— I love sanji sm he makes me cry. might be first in a series, but we'll see. please enjoy. xoxo, belle.

The third time a pirate entered your shop, you genuinely considered closing up early today.

You level him with a stare despite the man being twice your size. You cut him off before he can get a word out.

“No, I don't have anything that works against people made of rubber.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you gesture to the rest of your wares. “Now, are you going to get anything else? Or should you be on your way?”

He leaves, disgruntled, but without a fight.

A huff escapes your lips. The nerve of these people.

Ever since that outrageous bounty for that new pirate came along, suddenly every pirate and pirate hunter in the East Blue was gearing up to chase after him. All the poisons that were gathering dust in your storage were cleared out within days of those posters showing up.

It was good berry at first, but they got more aggressive, and started demanding more of everything. More doses than you were comfortable handing out. More dangerous poisons that could kill everyone in the room if the seal loosens by even a crack.

You took up this apothecary business because you wanted to help people. It wasn't exactly your dream to become a poison dealer.

The shop bell rings again. Thankfully, this time it's one of your elderly neighbors and not a pirate seeking poison.

The old lady smiles at you, the sides of her eyes crinkling. “You seem to be quite busy these days, dear.”

“If only they were paying customers like you, Ma'am.” You pick up a box of loose tea from the shelf, already knowing her usual order.

She gasps in concern. “Oh my, did they steal from you?”

“Only my time.” You grimace slightly, remembering how many pirates barged in last week.

“Would you like some honey with this? We have fresh jars from today's shipment.” You offer as you tally her order.

The lady hums in agreement. “Yes, I think some honey would be lovely.”

During slow days like these, you like to tinker with new recipes to sell. On a desk at the very back of the shop, obscured by thick curtains, is your beloved workstation.

You review your notes from the previous day. You'll need to get some peppermint for the healing salve you're developing. Taking a small jar of the experimental paste, you test a small amount on your hand.

Indeed, it needs more peppermint. Maybe you should use extract instead of crushed leaves next time, so that the texture is smoother.

The problem arises when your go-to herb supplier says he's run out of peppermint.

“Please tell me you're kidding.” You groan, looking down at your sadly empty whicker basket.

“M’sorry, lass.” The vendor shrugs, not looking very sorry at all. “You just missed the guy who bought everything. I promise I'll get you your peppermint next week, though.”

Resigned, you sigh, reading through the rest of your shopping list. The salve, at least, can wait a week as it's still a work in progress. The rest of your list, however, are crucial ingredients for your usual bestsellers.

“Fancy looking lad. He asked about spices. Told him to go to the shops down by the river.”

Your stomach drops. Everything else you need are sold by those shops.

Mentally cursing that vendor, you run as fast as your feet can take you. You're not letting some tourist get the better of you when it comes to ingredients.

You reach the river in record time. You'd feel proud if you didn't feel winded. Even so, you scan the road for anyone matching the tourist's description.

There doesn't seem to be anyone remotely fancy around. Triumphant, you go on with your shopping.

You begin to feel better as you cross more things off your list. You've almost forgotten about the peppermint incident, if only you didn't suddenly smell so much of it pass by.

A tall blond man walks by, clearly doing a lot of shopping based on the boxes of supplies he's carrying. The scent of peppermint hits you again. In a paper bag, at the very top of the boxes, you spot bunches of those leaves you've been so desperate for.

You can only clench your jaw in frustration and frown at the back of his head. He purchases a large amount of meat and fish in the next stall, and you gather that he must be some sort of chef. No normal person buys so much meat that the shopkeep offers to deliver everything. But that's what happens to this fancy looking lad. He must not be normal then.

“Yes, my ship's in the docks. You can't miss it, thank you so much for your help.” He smiles. His blue eyes wander the stall, then travel to the next stall over, where you are.

There's a moment of surprise when he finds you already looking at him, but his expression changes instantly into a suave one. It almost makes you want to back away, but you stand your ground when he approaches.

“Aren’t you stunning? I was feeling tired, but your pretty face woke me right up.”

You turn away, pointedly ignoring him. He can't flirt with you while smelling like peppermint. It's just not fair.

“Sorry for the hold up, lass. What's it you need?” The shopkeep you were waiting for shows up just in time. You continue to not pay the blond beside you any attention.

“Cinnamon and salt, please.” You respond. “Pink, if you have any.”

“I'll have the same, good sir.” Fancy pants says. “Though, my salt doesn't need to be pink.”

As the shopkeep rummages through his supplies, the blond continues to speak to you. Why does he keep speaking to you?

“Pink salt is lovely to look at, same as you,” He begins, “But other than the color, there really isn't a difference to normal salt, isn't there?”

He shrugs, his broad shoulder shifting his suit jacket slightly. “You're paying extra for the same result. It's all the same when you cook it.”

“I'm not using it for cooking.” Is your only response.

The shopkeep returns before the stranger can reply. “Here's the salt for you's.” He hands you a bag of pink rock salt, and the stranger a bag of regular salt.

The dread from the peppermint vendor returns when you realize the shopkeep is holding only one bag of cinnamon. He pats it and says, “I could split it so you both get half.”

“I was here first.” You insist desperately. “Sell it to me.”

“...My hands are tied here, lad.” The shopkeep sells you the cinnamon, and it's quickly tucked into your basket when you get your hands on it. The stranger doesn't barter for it. Good.

And with that, you cross out cinnamon and salt from your shopping list. You were able to get everything except the peppermint, which stays neat and legible at the very top of the list.

You crumple the paper and toss it into a nearby bin before making your way back to your shop.

“Are you on your way to get some peppermint?” How did the stranger catch up with you so quickly?

“No.” No matter how much you wish you were.

You try to walk faster, but his pace is steady even with a large box under one arm and several others tied up with twine held in his other hand.

“But it was on your list.” He seems to be very interested in your dealings. Is he always this dedicated when he flirts?

You cross the bridge that arches over the river together. The townsfolk who recognize you and not the man next to you begin to whisper amongst themselves.

It takes everything in you to resist rolling your eyes. After a week of pirates, you suspect your shop will be full of gossiping neighbors soon.

“A certain someone bought all the best peppermint today.” Of course the scent of it wafts over you again as you say so.

“Ah.” Understanding dawns on his face. “I see, I'm sorry if that inconvenienced you.”

It was your turn to shrug. You were about to say that it was okay, but then remember that you wouldn't be able to complete your salve until next week.

You pout before you can help it. “Did you really have to buy all of it?”

He breathes out a laugh. “I normally wouldn't, but my friends tend to have endless appetites. It always pays to have plenty of supplies.”

Even in the middle of the bustling street, a certain group of strangers stand out. They're gathered outside the tavern. You don't know any of them, but you recognize one of them as that infamous new pirate with the exorbitant bounty on his head.

“Speaking of my friends...” The blond trails off, nodding towards that particular group.

You just about stop in your tracks. He's with them? He's a pirate?

Okay. A rich, flirtatious tourist you could deal with. A random pirate crew? You would probably still be fine.

But the crew with the highest bounty in all the East Blue? That's just asking for trouble to happen.

While the stranger is distracted by his friends, you slip into an inconspicuous alleyway. You'd have to go a little further around to reach your shop, but that's alright as long as you avoid those Straw Hat pirates.

Luck seems to not be on your side, though. Because fancy pants shows up to your shop later that evening.

He grins. “You didn't tell me crossing that bridge together meant something. I would have talked about something more romantic than peppermint if I knew.”

Of course, word travels fast in a small town. You should have known someone would tell him. And that he would be able to find you easily if he wanted.

“How does the legend go, again?” He asks teasingly. “If two people cross the bridge together on the day they meet... Theirs souls are bound.”

“It's a myth.” You dismiss his charming grin and try to ignore him.

He leans his elbows on the counter that separates you. He's hunched down, but still towers over you somehow.

“It's romantic. And I'm glad it happened to us.” He smiles. “May I at least know the name of the person my soul is now bound to? Mine's Sanji.”

“Well, Sanji. Are you going to buy something?” You ask and avoid giving him your name.

Sanji, surprisingly, nods. He grabs two cans of your special handmade tea and a large jar of honey.

“I'll buy these,” He places the items on the counter. “And give you this.” He holds out several sprigs of peppermint. You blink at him in surprise.

“...Thank you.” You gingerly take it, and carefully set it to the side.

You're silent while you ring up his order. It's when you're taking out a paper bag for him that you finally cave and reveal your name.

The smile that blooms on Sanji's face isn't how you expected it would be. You expected him to look arrogant, to look proud that he was able to sway you like he did other women before.

But he looks at you sweetly, dimples showing and eyes sparkling. You wordlessly hand over the paper bag.

“A pleasure, darling.”

You would have thought that would be the last time you saw Sanji. But, be it luckily or unfortunately, he finds you the next day with the rest of the Straw Hats tagging along.

Only this time, they seem to be on the run.

You hold open the door for the Straw Hats and, one after another, they flood into your shop. Sanji smiles and says something about your hair, but you can't process the words with his friends scattering to hide.

“Sanji, what the fuck?”

“I know, I know, love. I'm sorry we had to reunite like this. We just need to lay low for a bit.” He reassures you, caressing your shoulders as he does.

“I'll make it up to you! I'll cook you a romantic, candlelit dinner.”

You frown at him, unimpressed.

Sanji kisses his teeth and sighs. “I'll give you the rest of the peppermint.”

You perk up instantly. “Deal. You can all hide in my workstation.”

“Hi, I'm Luffy!” Their captain greets you jovially. “That's Zoro,” Luffy points to the swordsman. “Nami,” The woman. “And Usopp.” The one hiding under your counter.

“Of course, you know Sanji already, being soulmates and all.”

You trip on nothing, and Sanji grabs your hand to steady you. You glare. He just smiles.

“Your shop is really cool!” Luffy exclaims, looking at all the trinkets on the shelf.

“Thanks.” You say dryly, pushing the curtain partition aside. You lead them to the back of the shop.

“Make yourselves at home.” You wave a hand towards the couch and some chairs around your desk. They should be fine here as long as they don't need to stay the night.

Through the gaps in the window blinds, flashlights and shadows stream into the room. There seems to be an active search party out for these guys. You suddenly can't believe you agreed to this for peppermint.

Zoro, whose three earrings glint in the light, shifts to scratch at his chest. You spot bandages from the gap in his shirt.

You grab the small jar of salve from your desk and toss it to him. He catches it, but looks from the jar to you and back, confused.

“It's a healing salve I made. It should help soothe your skin.” You explain.

The swordsman still looks unsure, but opens the jar anyway. Zoro sniffs its contents, and tries putting a small amount on his chest.

You beam at him, unable to help feeling proud at how his shoulders visibly relax after using it.

“Thanks.” Zoro says simply.

“No problem.” You nod back, still smiling.

Luffy looks at the jar as if it's a miraculous cure-for-all. “That's amazing.”

“It smells really good, too.” Usopp says, sniffing at the air around Zoro.

“Do you sell that here?” Nami asks.

“I will, once I make more.” You answer. You never realized how uplifting it was to share your work with new people.

Subconsciously, you turn to Sanji. But, why is he frowning? You follow your gaze to find he's looking at the jar in Zoro's hand.

Before you can ask him if anything is wrong, Luffy bursts out excitedly, "You're a doctor! You should join our crew!"

You wince. “No, I'm a chemist.”

“Cool!” Luffy's enthusiasm does not wane. “So you can heal, right?”

You're about to correct him before they assume things out of your pay grade when Usopp claps his hands in realization.

“She's even better than a doctor!” Usopp insists. “She makes the medicine that the doctors give out!”

Just as you were about to interfere with how much they were overestimating your skills, the shop bell rings. You turn to the clock. Shit, you should have locked up twenty minutes ago.

You meet everyone's eyes and they all nod, understanding that they need to be quiet. You switch off the lights in the back room for good measure.

The customer is a pirate you've never seen before. He looks angry, glaring at every possible hiding spot in your shop. Particularly the room you just came from.

You're careful to completely shut the curtain behind you.

“How can I help you, sir?” You put on your best customer service smile. “I was just about to close the shop, but if it's urgent, I'll help you find what you need.”

The pirate grunts. He's not buying what you're selling at all.

“Perhaps some calming tea? You look like a refined gentleman who would enjoy this.” You hold up a can of tea as if that will help you seem less suspicious.

“What's behind the curtain?” He points behind you accusingly.

“My work area, where I make all the fine products you see before you.”

Stomping forward, he seems to have had enough of your stalling. Fine.

Just as he's about to bash his fist down onto your counter, you grab a suspicious looking dark jar. You hold it up threateningly.

“The hell is that?!” The pirate snarls.

“Haven't you heard? I'm the go-to poison dealer in all the East Blue.” You bluff. “A whiff of this, and you'll sink like a rock, my friend.”

He freezes, but glares at you more fiercely. You pretend to twist the lid.

“Y-you'll kill yourself too, then!” He barks back. “Let's see your bullshit poison then.”

“Oh, but that's what makes me so brilliant.” You grin, laying the act on thick. “I'm immune to all the poisons I make.”

Your hand settles ominously on the lid. “Shall we test who survives?”

The pirate scrambles to leave. He's out before you can blink. Without missing a beat, you lock the front door and draw all window blinds down.

You rest your back against the door. Letting out a loud exhale, you almost let yourself slide down to the floor. How long do you have to deal with pirates like that?

Thoughts of yesterday with Sanji at the market fill your thoughts. If only all days could be like that, where the worst of your problems had been a peppermint shortage.

“You guys can come out, now.” You call out to the Straw Hats.

“Uh... Is that really poison?” Usopp asks, staying very far away from the jar.

You laugh, though it comes out airy due to your tiredness. “No, those are just some herbs I left to ferment.”

“How brilliant of you, love.” Sanji is beside you in a few strides. Him and those long legs.

“Was he the one you guys were hiding from?” You ask. The crew members shake their heads.

“No, actually.” Nami says. “We were hiding from a bunch of—”

Your shop explodes.

Sanji is quick to pull you into his arms and shield you from the debris with his own body. For a minute that feels like eternity, you can't hear anything. Your ears are ringing, and dust clouds over all your years of hard work. You sob into Sanji's arms.

“No!” You cry out.

Marines step into the shop, wood planks cracking and glass panels shattering under their feet. There are so many of them. You don't understand. Even if you hid the Straw Hats here, they shouldn't be allowed to destroy private property, right? Right?

“We got a report of illegal poisons in the area.” The leading officer states, his face stoic. “Just our luck that we run into pirates as well.”

You look to the Straw Hats, all of them are positioned to fight, save for Sanji. He's still cradling you protectively.

Taking a shaky deep breath, you lift your hand to rest it on Sanji's arm. He instantly looks down at you, silently asking if you're alright.

You're not yet, and if you're being honest, you'd rather stay in his arms until everything is over. But you nod anyway. Sanji gently lets you go and gets ready to face your new enemies.

“Get them all.”

Chaos breaks, and you run to duck behind a shelf that toppled over. The Straw Hats put up a good fight, but there are just too many Marines. Your eyes find round bottles of herbs scattered around you, and you come up with an idea.

“Guys!” You yell. “Buy me some time!”

“Anything for you, darling.” Sanji winks at you before sending a Marine flying. You gape at his audacity. The rest of them don't even react, but you notice they rotate slightly, surrounding you to keep you from being interrupted.

Grabbing as many of the bottles as you can, you stuff them with shards of wood and more dried leaves. You take rocks from the debris and strike them together.

With a few sparks, the herbs and leaves catch fire. You act fast, throwing the bottles at the Marines.

The bottles shatter, bursting into flames once they hit their mark. The Marines panic and become disoriented, giving the Straw Hats an advantage despite being outnumbered.

Eventually, the Marines run and scatter, leaving only the few bravest of them to fight. The Straw Hats make quick work of them.

When the battle is over, you watch the dust settle over the ruins of your apothecary. It's going to take years to earn enough berry to restore how everything once was. You can't help but feel heartbroken.

Sanji sits down in the rubble next to you, wrapping you in another embrace. You let yourself fall into him.

“We'll help you get everything back. I promise.” He swears, voice slightly muffled into your hair.

“Or, you could come with us! Join our crew!” Nami hits Luffy on the shoulder.

“What? It's true!” Luffy insists. “We need someone like her!”

You pull back from Sanji's embrace to look at him. He doesn't say anything, but something tells you he wishes for you to come with them. The others look at you expectantly as well.

No one speaks to persuade you further. But when you compare this rag-tag team to your ruined apothecary, your answer suddenly feels very clear. If you're to slave away to earn the berry for rebuilding your home, why not spend that time with them?

The back of the shop is less affected, even if the sight is still dreadfully sad. Your notes are thankfully intact, and you're able to find a bag and shove some extra clothes into it. It saddens you that you're so quick to pack up your life, but you'll come back. Someday.

When you return to the others, they're all smiling. Sanji more so, but you should have expected that.

He holds out his hand, and you reach out to take it.

“I change my mind,” You jest. “I'll take that romantic candlelit dinner now.”

Sanji laughs loudly while he guides you to walk over the rubble safely. You catch some of the others laughing too, but they walk a ways ahead you and Sanji.

“Like I said,” He says with his signature grin, “Anything for you, my dear.”

Your mind must be playing tricks on you, because he still smells like peppermint. Now, that's really not fair.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

[bensboards]

hai hai haiii!! :3

i love you zubin stimboard!!! i was wondering if you could maybe make another tally hall stimboard?? preferably bora, ross, or joe, but i dont mind!! do whichever is easier for you, kinda like dealers choice!!

thank youuuu :D

Bora Karaca Themed Stimboard 💥ˎˊ˗ with bora, explosions, and orange colored gifs

💥|🧡|💥 🧡|💥|🧡 💥|🧡|💥 ★: divider helloo !! im glad you liked it :3 i just went with the first one you listed but i ended up not really knowing what to add so i hope this turned out alright !! ^^'

[fanaticsnail]

kissing booth completely broke me, every day I think in one new character to request, and then I remember I already requested and it's only one character per person 😭😭😭 literally the cruelest person on this site

Let me give you a tally to see what's in store so far for kisses 😘

Sanji: 3

Law: 5

Zoro: 3

Shanks: 1

Rosinante / Corazon: 5

Jinbe: 3

Kid: 3

Buggy: 4

Killer: 4

Heat: 1

Crocodile: 2

Mihawk: 6

Cavendish: 1

Bogard: 1

Bartolomeo: 1

Dragon: 1

Katakuri: 1

Koby: 1

Dealers Choice: 1 (thank you for this!! I think we both know which of your four I'm gonna choose 😏)

Marco: 4

Usopp: 1

Izou: 1

Penguin: 4

Kalifa: 1

Ace: 2

Caesar: 1

Doflamingo: 2

X Drake: 1

Perona: 1

Rob Lucci: 1

King: 2

Nami: 1

Sabo: 1

Page One: 1

Helmeppo: 1

Brook: 1

I will get through all these, I swear. This is what's on the list so far, so so many kisses. I can't wait to get through them all! Only one kiss per person so everyone gets a chance for some kisses! I'm genuinely surprised by the amount of kisses for minor characters.

I am so excited for a few of these. I am working through them as they come, and some of them are likely going to be the same character a few times in a row.

Again, if you see a repeat of a character, or want more kisses from a character I've already done -> I am willing to do more for the same blorbo.

[deluxewhump]

Ethan Byrne

Synopsis/setup: Just after his high school graduation, Cameron gets jumped and robbed while attempting to sell a fair amount of drugs for a local dealer. He now is without the product or any money to cover the losses. Having already been beaten up and threatened that worse is coming by one of the drug dealer’s goons, Cam contacts his estranged half brothers Ethan Byrne and Edmund “Lou” Lewis to see if he can go visit them and hide out while he figures out what to do. He has no idea what Ethan is.

CW: Cam has recently turned 19 in this. abusive, incestuous overtones, mocking talk of incest, Ethan Byrne is vile, human furniture, homophobic language, misogynistic language, slurs (including the f word), black eye and bruised ribs, bystander does not intervene, abuse, creepy intimate whump, noncon vibes (but no noncon), crying

—

Edmund “Lou” Lewis had always been concerned with the way people saw him. It was important to him. He was always watching himself in the eyes of others, to the detriment of seeing anything but his own reflection. It was a weakness.

His half- brother Ethan had no such weakness. Unlike Lou, Ethan didn't give a single thought to what anyone else thought of him. Lou envied it sometimes. Ethan was a demon in highschool, getting into fights with anyone and everyone, with guys from the next town over and getting one of his teeth knocked out so they had to screw in a fake one. He set fire to the guy’s car the following week with a Molotov cocktail. He went to juvie once, but that was it. Nothing ever stuck to Ethan. At twenty-four, he had a clean record.

Ethan and Lou had a different mothers, and they were raised in different homes. Ethan was only a few months younger than Lou. Their father wasn’t exactly a faithful man, and only by virtue of small town gossip did they know they shared one. Lou’s mother had not given her son his father’s surname, but Ethan’s had.

When Ethan was twelve, he’d crashed his four wheeler into a tree. Everyone said he was different after that. Like he’d bumped his head hard enough to undergo some structural personality change. Lou didn’t think so. Ethan just came into his own around then, but it was always coming. When they were fourteen, Ethan carved ten inch-long tally marks into another boy’s arm because he wouldn’t pay up on the ten bucks he owed him. Everyone on their schoolbus called him Tally after that. When he’d been suspended for it, the principal kept asking for the knife. It had been done with a broken ruler.

When their dad left town, he never came back. Lou and Ethan knew they had a third half-brother, a kid five or six years younger than them who lived a couple hours down the interstate with their father. They’d never met him, never spoken to him. When he called and said he was in trouble, Lou hung up on him. The kid made the mistake of calling Ethan next. Ethan gave him his address, and he got on the next bus north.

Lanky and full of nervous energy, Cameron spent the first two days trying to impress them without letting on that he was trying to impress them. It was only a little pathetic, and mostly just sad. He had no idea Ethan was sizing him up, a skill he’d always had an uncanny knack for. Lou watched it like a familiar TV rerun. He knew Ethan’s every move. He considered warning Cameron, but decided to wait. Ethan might hold back for their own flesh and blood. He might be tamer, less wolfish. Who knew. It was uncharted territory. But that very night, the third night since Cameron’s arrival, there was a clear tension stirring between them.

Lou watched from the living room sofa with a mixture of apathy and resignation as Ethan prepared to do what he did best— probe the weak spots he’d mapped and observed.

“What’s so special about you, do you think?” Ethan asked when the conversation turned to their shared father. “Why did he stay for you?”

Cameron grew visibly uncomfortable. He shrugged under Ethan’s steady gaze. “You’re not missing much.”

“That so? Is he a dick?”

“Lately,” Cameron muttered. His black eye had gone down since he first showed up, not so much swollen now as just discolored. He’d been jumped by some drug dealer’s lackey, beaten up in his own living room. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he dropped his eyes.

Ethan lifted his chin to force him to look at him. “He hasn’t so much as called me or Lou since we were five.”

“I’m sorry,” Cameron said, clearly unsettled by the sudden physical contact. He looked down his nose at Ethan’s hand on his chin and pulled away slowly.

Ethan laughed under his breath. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Does daddy know you’re the local dealer’s bitch now?”

“I’m not,” Cameron said, anger flashing in his eyes. “I’m not anybody’s bitch.”

“I think if those guys that are after you caught up to you, they wouldn’t kill you at all. I think they’d see an opportunity. Pass you around like a truck stop whore.” He raised his eyebrows as if he’d had an epiphany. “Like your mother! You must look like her, because we don’t look a thing alike. She give you these green eyes? These freckles?”

Ethan cupped Cameron’s face, running his thumb over his cheek just under his bruised eye. Cameron tried to draw his head back but Ethan followed him, cupping his cheek with force. “I think they know you’re a little whore. I think they can smell it on you. I can.”

“Fuck off,” Cameron said with considerable venom, but Lou could hear the tremor in his voice. That was blood in the water to a thing like Ethan. Ethan’s violence was different than Lou’s own latent tendencies. It was calculated like a laser beam, where Lou’s had always been scattershot. Ethan was tireless. Ruthless.

He lowered his voice so that Lou almost missed his next words to Cameron. “So. Does daddy know you’re a faggot?”

Cameron looked over at Lou, his eyes questioning, desperate. What is this? they said. Get him off me.

“Must run in the family, Tally,” Lou called. Ethan ignored him in favor of his new victim.

“Why did you really leave? Did our daddy yell at you? He hit you, Cam? You can tell me.”

“No.”

“You wish he would just love you again, don't you? Like he did when you were little. Why’d he stop, you think?”

“Stop it,” Cameron said. Lou could hear tight, angry tears in his throat. But there was fear, just beneath it. He finally sensed the danger all at once, like being in the middle of a frozen lake when you hear the crack.

“Did you offer to take mommy’s place when she left?” Ethan pushed. “He turn you down?”

“You’re fucking sick,” Cameron hissed. “There’s something wrong with you.” He attempted to shove Ethan away. Undeterred, Ethan grabbed his face, hard. Cameron grunted and tried to pull away, only succeeding in pressing himself against the wall behind him. His cheeks and mouth were squished in Ethan’s hand in an undignified, fishlike way.

“You’re right,” Ethan said. “I’m sorry. That’s too fucked, even for a budding little freak like you. You’d take it from me, though, I can tell. We’re only half, right? You don't even know me. Maybe we’re not even related. Maybe daddy lied, or someone’s mother did. It’s all kind of messy, isn’t it. Who’s to say?”

Cameron tried to push past him, but Ethan used his grip on his face to slam him back into the wall. “Sh-sh-sh. No. Relax. It’s just us.” With his other hand, he ran a finger along the waistband of Cameron’s pants, lifting his shirt so Lou could see his skinny waist trembling beneath it.

“Ethan,” said Lou. “I will come over there and break your fucking hand if you put it in his pants.”

“Chill out, Lou,” Ethan said. He traced an exploratory fingertip along Cameron’s lower belly so he twitched away. “I wouldn’t dream of it. He might, though. C'mere, Cameron.”

The fear and hatred in Cameron’s eyes was further pronounced by the tears still standing in them. He’d been so adoring of Ethan the past three days, too. Especially Ethan. Ethan wasn’t the one who’d hung up on him.

“It’s okay. Come on.”

Ethan started backing up. “Cmon,” he called, as if to a particularly dumb puppy. Reluctantly, Cameron took a step to follow him.

“Good. Keep coming.”

Ethan took another step back, hands at his sides, palms-up. Cameron took another shuffling step closer, looking like he half expected Ethan to switch tactics and hit him at any moment. Ethan backed up until he reached the sofa and sat down next to Lou. He pointed at his feet. “Right here.”

Cameron stood in front of him. This close, Lou could see that his whole body was trembling visibly.

“On your hands and knees.”

Cameron’s eyes snapped to Ethan’s.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Hands and knees.”

Lou watched as Cameron obeyed, going to his knees first and then putting his hands out as if blind until he was on all fours. Ethan put his booted feet onto his back. “Good. Just like that.” He turned on the television, settling into the sofa with Cameron as his footrest.

After a moment, he lifted his right boot and nudged it into Cameron’s bruised ribs. He yelped and flinched, but hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Taking it. Lou wasn’t surprised. He’d watched Ethan in action his entire life. Still, it had been rather fast with Cameron. He almost felt bad for him. He was only nineteen, and clearly Ethan had zeroed in on something.

“Stay still,” Ethan cooed, grinding the toe of his boot in cruel little circles on Cameron’s ribs. “That’s it. I know you want to please, deep down, Cameron. That’s why you told us about those good grades you got in AP math. No one patted you on the head for that, did they? Well, I will. I’m gonna show you how to give in to it. What’re long lost big brothers for, huh puppy dog?”

Cameron sobbed through gritted teeth, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping still with the grinding boot in his damaged ribs.

“Shh.” Ethan removed his boot and set it back on the tabletop of Cameron’s back. “You’re okay.”

[headspace-hotel]

I've developed a method of generating names using InferKit and it's to click "random generator" on fantasynamegenerators website, select one name from the generator given, repeatedly click "random" until you have a list of names from a random assortment of generators, then give the list to InferKit. this foolproof method creates the utmost randomized fantasy names

Selected results:

Jorath Flechte

Hendzel Marca

Bivvar, the Axeman of Love

Marban Xax

Edin Baxard

Osombrating One [lowkey love this]

Tinted Nichemaker

Quaggy Jim

Solondral

Lytrion Nagual

Korben Roan

Smutius

Jhoss Thong

Fleckit Azal

Falepuffin

Dook'o

Pique Camomile

Galuzir of the Third Burial

Ivril Tuul

Chaffeet

Marvus Crilshar

Sporkbender

The Hague Noob [fave]

Eadne Applefritz

Sminty Auzaro

Thrixe Masquerain

Alun 'Tendril of the Callous' Eliasson

Flickers

Telic Feccle

Longtone Bee-Root

Tethe'lan

Hardtack Ari

Deste Daizee [absolutely using this at some point]

Malee Mehli

Martmuff

Paragon of Sin

Porze Quenlan

Captain Crunch, Heartless Lord

Curtainschuft

Joma Twisp

Farassim Farsniks [flawless consonance going on here]

Tally Ho Big Shadow

Peregild

Knut Oxensturr

Decibel Drears

Medley

Black Market Narcotic Dealer [a little on the nose don't you think?]

Whimsmith

Qubag the Loose Brocade

Horsecutter

Tina the Macaroni Master

Willam Boxx

Maelstrom Twistedfeather

Balageer Snif

Elega-Gallbladder

Klaugetunes

Lucius Ah, I Shall Scream!!

Divine Spine

Latchlin Snowfox

Gemmick

Machelle Toi

Eroril Léki

Daehlaakth Parro

D'Reekle

Armored Rider Tyrannosaur

Jackalforn

Uurd-Gildo

Azurag Perfidious

Huzzix

Seffran Ten Armour

Edsel D'Prey

Bowstraker Slothripper

Adam Jerkini

Monocorn

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Congrats of finishing vampjean!! I love them all so much how to pick how to pick…today I’ll say Mer AU or dealers choice because I love seeing and reading all of them!

-💖💖

WIP Wednesday (6/12) | Mer Roadtrip AU (Part 28)

Okay. Micah Jones is dead. Drowned, maybe. Or eaten by a shark. Nathaniel snorts, then sighs again. After a moment of staring out at the horizon, he stacks his arms onto his knees and drops his head there, facing the wall of the cove. It’s surprisingly smooth-looking, like black glass. Except for a set of deep scratches etched into the stone. 

He reaches his hand out and rubs the pad of his thumb over them curiously. Where did those come from? He studies them for a moment. They’re definitely intentional. And not made by an animal. They’re too precise, too clean for that. After counting them he finds there are thirty total, in six sets of five. 

Nathaniel blinks.

Wait. Are these… tally marks? But who would be making them? What could they be keeping track of? As he contemplates these questions, Nathaniel hears the water moving. He braces himself for a nearly-dead, waterlogged human to pop up gasping for breath, but he gets the surprise of his life instead. Because, rather than a human, a merman with long golden hair emerges with a bloodied fish in his mouth. 

Nathaniel can do nothing but stare. He’s never seen another mer before, besides his mother. He watches the boy slide onto the sand, silent and slack-jawed. But this incredible moment is quickly broken, because the mer’s ear fins twitch. His head turns slowly, eyes widening when he catches sight of Nathaniel gaping at him.

[emeraldsoftwares]

Tally UAE - The All New Tally Prime for United Arab Emirates

Tally.ERP 9 is designed keeping in mind the day of a business owner. It simplifies business processes such that managing them is easy and effective. Designed with the principles of simplicity, flexibility, and reliability, Tally Software seamlessly adapts to your business environment and scales itself as your business grows. The strong capabilities of the product are further enhanced through…

[rederiswrites]

FUcking CHriSt okay so the boy didn't spot Kratos and Mimir in their paddock (mainly because the weeds in the garden are taller than the sheep) and asked if we'd put them in with the ewes. Which we had not, but I mentioned that we would come November or so, for the long-awaited breeding. So he started trying to tally up in his head how many more sheep we would then have to haul water to, this being his chore fairly often. Nine ewes, maybe nine lambs? So I pointed out that it wasn't that simple--sometimes a ewe has twins, sometimes a lamb dies, and for that matter, Kratos is entirely untested as a sire. He might just not get many of them pregnant, for all we know.

"Oh, that's true," says the boy. "He might be a bad nut-dealer."

NUT DEALER.

Nᵤt Dₑaˡeᵣ

[makeadealwithdean]

makeadealwithdean's friday fic rec list - harringrove edition

here's a list of the fics i've read lately and highly recommend! these fics are not mine and belong only to the writers, so writers, as always, if you don't want to be mentioned on here, message me, and i'll take you off no questions asked! also, this list is special because i'll be focusing on just harringrove, and since several of these are camboy!au's, these fics are smut and 18+ ONLY, so minors dni!! (gif is mine)

camboy!au's:

"never gets old" - @brawlite & @toastranger

Rating: E || Words: 78k

Falling in love with a cam boy named KingSteve isn't the smartest thing Billy Hargrove has ever done, nor is it the most healthy -- but the good choice is rarely ever the fun choice, and Billy is all about living life fast and loose.

"Love Is A Sickness (And Lust Is Absolute Madness)"

Rating: E || Words: 25k

Steve snaps a pic with his hand around his dick, angling the camera so that the stream is visible in the back. He can’t help but stroke a few times before sending it, wishing he had the balls to just put his webcam to good use so SuckMeDead could see him in all of his wet, messy, horny glory. Realistically though, he knows that full-on cybersex isn’t something he’s ready for, not until— Not until he’s made sure this camboy isn’t Billy Hargrove.

"Ride The Lightning" - socknonny

Rating: E || Words: 12k

Steve has an epic plan to Get Back At Daddy after his parents don't embrace his new-found bisexuality. An epic, epic plan, inspired by his favorite camboy. There's no way this can go wrong.

"Not Your Prince (But I'm Your Pretty Boy)" - ImNeitherNor

Rating: E || Words: 10k

“Not desperate,” Steve told himself, staring at the page while heat crawled up his chest and neck. “So not desperate.” Which was a lie because he was getting a membership just to comment and view more videos of the guy with the pierced dick. He licked his lips and tapped his thumbs on the space bar, deleted it, and almost hit his forehead against his desk. It was a username. Why did it matter so fucking much? Christ.

others:

"Sideways" - robthegoodfellow

Rating: E || Words: 46k

On Friday, Billy terrorized his stepsister, harassed his crush, and got blitzed with the school drug dealer. And then it all went sideways.

"definitely better than being dead" - @dragonflylady77

Rating: T || Words: 3.5k

When Billy comes to, everything hurts. He keeps his eyes closed, even though the space around him feels dark, and slowly takes a tally of where it hurts: hands, sides, chest, back, feet too... He listens to the noises in the room and the regular beeping of a machine close by tells him he’s in a hospital.

"Cross Road Blues" - @weird-an

Rating: E || Words: 6.6k

Billy sells his soul to Steve Harrington at the crossroads.

"His baby" - @lovebillyhargrove

Rating: E || Words: 32k

After Billy's death his car comes alive and decides to take revenge on certain residents of Hawkins. (My note: BILLY'S CAMARO FIC, MY BELOVED)

"come back down to my knees, gotta get back (gotta get free)" - @hartigays

Rating: E || Words: 5.5k

Billy is like, really gross. Steve likes that. He really likes that. And honestly, what could it hurt to indulge a little? (This is flayed!Billy, btw)

"The Art of the Dick Pic" - @lazybakerart

Rating: E || Words: 4.8k

Steve gets shipped off to a military academy, yet his biggest problem is his lighting.

"silvertongue" - @the-copperkid

Rating: E || Words: 9.2k

It's a hot summer night, and Billy and Steve find themselves stranded in the middle of a flash flood when Steve starts getting Upside Down-related anxiety. There's, unfortunately, only one thing that's certain to take his mind off of it — but Billy assures him that it wouldn't be so strange if they did it together. Just as long as they don't touch.

"Bed-sharing, almost-caring" - Thei

Rating: Not Rated || Words: 11.8k

It's late, dark and snowing, and Steve would rather do anything else than drive around looking for Billy Hargrove. But Max asked, and he can't say no to those kids. Not after everything. He finds Billy at the quarry. Billy is not okay.

"Cherry" - @lazybakerart

Rating: E || Words: 58k

They’ve got ten minutes before Steve’s break is up and he has to go back to wishing for death with a smile.

"King of Diamonds" - @shieldofiron

Rating: E || Words: 4.7k

“What’s the matter, Hargrove?” Steve Harrington flings his bags onto the bed with a fucked up little grin, “Scared of the big bad bed?” Billy just glowers at him, for the five hundredth time that day. He should have known when coach said they were bunking alphabetically and some of the rooms would only have one bed, that luck would not be on his side. Billy shuffles on his feet, squaring his shoulders, “Get out of my way.” Harrington cocks his head to the side, “Is that how you speak to your King?” “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Way.” “Or what?” Harrington's smiling in that vicious way, lip curling. (Or literally any part of this series, cause holy shit, King Steve)

"Rules for Survival" - @jad3w1ngs

Rating: E || Words: 5.5k

His first breath of free air had got caught in his throat however, because God may have allowed him to leave his old hell, but that was only so that he could be plunged into a new one. Sure, maybe he was being overdramatic, but the universe must have it out for him. Why else would he be roomed with possibly the prettiest, most infuriatingly sweet man ever? One who spoke about boobs and chicks and everything else enough to hammer home how out of bounds he was? One that he’d have to continue to pretend around. Billy’s other survival mechanisms had kicked in almost instantly. Unfortunately, the survival mechanism for dealing with his crush on his stupidly handsome roommate was apparently to be a massive asshole. Every innocent comment, every kind remark or offer of friendship was rebuffed with a snappy or bitchy quip, ones that had him groaning internally each time they left his lips. Not that it seemed to deter Steve, if anything his eyes lit up whenever Billy threw an insult his way, which was odd because he wouldn’t have pegged Steve as a masochist.

"Locker Room Antics" - @mid-nightmare13

Rating: E || Words: 5k

Just as he was about to take another swing for Hargrove's face, Steve found his wrist caught in a large hand, his back against the metal lockers, and his lips pressed against another pair. He grunted, protesting for maybe ten seconds before he was grabbing Billy's hair with his free hand, and kissed him back. Kissing Billy was nothing like kissing a girl. It was a dangerous combination of teeth and tongue locked in a battle for dominance. And he hated himself for backing down. "I want to fuck you," Billy said against his lips before beginning to suck and bite down his jaw. Steve let out an involuntary moan, suddenly finding his jeans far too tight...

"Wild on You" - @oopsiedaisiesbaby

Rating: E || Words: 2.6k (series wc: 80k)

Billy startled when rather than fall to his own back, beside him, Steve tightened his grip in Billy’s hair and moved halfway on top of him as he reconnected their lips. (this whole series actually is amazing, 10/10 recommend)

"if you don't like the company, let's just do it you and me" - hoppnhorn, @the-copperkid

Rating: E || Words: 9k

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” Billy tuts, and it’s nearly sickening, too fucking good, the way he looks like he can think of nothing better than digging his teeth into Steve Harrington. “Look at you. What’re we gonna do with you, huh? Tell me what you want, pretty boy.” * Steve is really fed up with walking in on Billy having sex in his bed, until Billy’s opening up the invitation to him, too — because like, if you can’t beat 'em, join ‘em, right? But see, three's a crowd. And Steve doesn't like to share.

"break up with your girlfriend ('cause i'm bored)" - @the-copperkid

Rating: E || Words: 15k

@umissedconnections: Bambi eyes. m4m. i was rippin cigs in the sae p-lot. u made urself puke 2 make room 4 more beer. incredible? ur my hero PLS say ur into guys * Steve finds he has a secret admirer who's continuously hitting on him via his university's Missed Connections Twitter account. // Tommy and Billy are the worst roommates ever.

last time's list || my fic rec masterpost || my masterlist

[spacetimesally]

A leisurely visit to Sky Station Stamos gets Sally high up in the Venusian cloud cover and on the radar of a certain glitter dealer out for revenge in, "The Return of Mr. Tally Man"

Welcome to Sky Station Stamos...

you know Mr. Tally Man a bamf 'cause he's got that collar-less duster and matching jumpsuit on top of that oh-so-stylish turtleneck/hoodie/helmet combo

[forestshadow-wolf]

Hi! I’m an Aussie with Ozzie head canons for roach!

The Australian sun is something else if you ever visit you need actual Australian sun screen not stuff made overseas it will not work and you will BURN! I believe Roach would have a side hustle selling the good Aussie sunscreen.

We have big bush cockroach’s roach would definitely have a terrarium full of them in his room

Roach was in a car when Ghost drove and yelled out Bloody Oath unironically when they nearly crashed and the 141 will not let him live it down ( based on an irl experience)

If soap celebrated when the queen died Roach was right there with him (they make fun of the actual Brit’s on the taskforce)

If an American calls Roach British the nearest 141 member has to hold Roach back while he swears them out.

When drunk people don’t understand what he’s saying.

If anyone has any questions about Australia I have more info!

This isn't how this works, im aware, but the mental image of roach going "psst psst you want some of the good stuff" and opening up an oversized jacket like he's a drug dealer to some poor random soldier IT HAS ME ON MY KNEES LMFAO

Ok yeah there's no way roach doesn't have giant bush cockroaches as pets. I think if Roach is meant to be Australian he's gotta like all da critters

No fuckin' clue what "bloody oath" is but if it's something cheesy as hell, then yeah! Zero doubt in my mind!

No fr soap and roach were celebrating ALL NIGHT when the queen died

There's actually a whiteboard with a tally of how many fights roach has been in for being called British per month.... so far the record is 38 💀

[les-mis-in-space]

How to Play Mursto

Mursto was a game played with a traditional 62-card Corellian sabacc deck. The object of the game was to bluff one's way to victory and be the last player standing.

Mursto, also known as liar's sabacc, was a game for 2-8 players. At the start of the game, each player was dealt two cards. Play proceeded from the dealer's left. Players would take turns guessing what the highest hand at the table was. In a simpler variation, players would try to guess the highest amount of a certain number, such as positive ten. The latter version was generally played without sylops.

If a player doubted the previous player's guess, they would call them a mursto. The cards would then be revealed. If the hand in question could be produced by combining any of the cards present, the accuser would draw an additional card at the next round. If the hand in question could not be produced, the person who made the claim would take the additional card.

If a player lost a round while holding five cards, they were eliminated from the game. Play continued with the remaining players until only one was left.

In sabacc, the object of the game was to get a hand whose sum was zero, known as a sabacc hand. Sabacc hands were ranked in Mursto as follows:

Full Sabacc (one 0 and two negative-positive pairs of 10s)

Pure Sabacc (two 0s)

Fleet (one 0 and two negative-positive pairs of the same value)

Dual Power Coupling (one 0 and two negative-positive pairs of different values)

Prime Sabacc (one 0 and a negative-positive pair of 10s)

Power Coupling (one 0 and a negative-positive pair of any value)

Rhylet (a positive triple of any value and a negative pair of any value, or vice versa)

Straight Rhoon (five cards with absolute values in sequence)

Straight Staves (four cards with absolute values from 7-10 in sequence)

Squadron (two negative-positive pairs of the same value)

Wizard (a positive 1-4 in sequence and a negative 10, or vice versa)

Straight Khyron (four cards with absolute values in sequence)

Straight Trill (three cards with absolute values from 1-3 in sequence)

Twice Paired Sabacc (two negative-positive pairs of different values)

Paired Sabacc (a negative-positive pair)

Sabacc with X cards Y high/low (a given number of cards whose total sum equals zero, with a given number being highest or lowest depending on if it is positive or negative)

Sabacc with X cards (a given number of cards whose total sum equals zero)

Hands that did not add up to zero were called nulrheks. A nulrhek of 1 was the highest-scoring nulrhek, with positive nulrheks beating negative ones. The lowest-scoring nulrhek was 10. A hand of 11 or higher, positive or negative, was a bombout and usually mandated a penalty to the pot. Players were not allowed to guess bombouts in Mursto, as it was a given that only a partial tally of the cards at the table would add up to a valid hand.