#rocks look edible

[keithkog]

Cactus cupcakes. Cactus ice cream. Those little pebble candies that look like actual pebbles. Cakes with layers what look like rock strata-

(sorry but that post made me really hungry)

Yeah, that post made me hungry too.

Anyways:

I want to eat all of these.

-Keith

[bocchidaily2024]

Day 268: anxiety cap mushroom

[boysnberryfan]

[pick-a-funny-name]

If I ever got to wish for anything I would wish for the ability to be able to eat grape agates

[snepdragon]

dd1 bosses edibility ranking

[somelazyassartist]

I really do love being outside.

[aroace-poly-show]

i love silly insane looking guys

[moe-broey]

Found all of them!!!! Btw

[nomaishuttle]

edibles aint shit syndrome is so so so real

[withoutatrace-pkmn]

actual footage of singe when I tell her she can’t eat that cool rock she found on the ground that kind of looks like a jellybean

[keithkog]

That urge to eat pebbles and rocks. I don’t know about you, but I understand some people who were on My Strange Addiction.

-Keith

[gender-euphowrya]

it's really baffling to me that when i tell people i don't eat veggies they're like "THEN WHAT DO YOU EAT" like. do you not know about the other food groups. have you exclusively been eating carrots and leaves like a bugs bunny

[alecraisa]

Having to get dental surgery tomorrow ignore any posting about the autism steamroller or tasty looking rocks

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ my nerdy boy

pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader synopsis: all about nerd!rafe and his popular, secretly pervy girlfriend ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა warnings: smut, masturbation (f), implied virgin!rafe, MDNI! wc: 500 a/n; this is the first rafe fic on this account that isn't a repost! anyway lmk if you want to read more about them, this was sort of a 'morning thoughts' kinda post i wrote within an hour of waking up ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

masterlist ♡ pervert!reader masterlist

when you first met rafe, he was tutoring you for math and the moment you saw him, you thought he looked downright edible in his little specs and his slicked-back hair. he wore baggy hoodies and sweatshirts adorned with your college's name, but one time, you grabbed his bicep to 'steady yourself' (to feel him up) and you felt the hard planes of muscles hidden under his clothes that immediately gave you filthy thoughts.

from then on, you'd do anything to see that pretty blush that'd sometimes grace his defined cheeks, and it wasn't even a difficult thing to achieve. really, most of the time calling him cute was enough to get him turning as bright as a tomato.

you always wore something low-cut and tight to your tutoring sessions, biting down on your lip and shamelessly pushing your cleavage together as you pretended to listen to him explain statistics, your panties getting wetter and wetter the more and more he stumbled with his words.

when he finally gathered enough courage to ask you out on a date, you took him to see a movie, keeping your arm around his shoulders the entirety of the movie, until the final thirty minutes when you pretended to stretch and yawn, moving your hand to rest on his thigh.

rafe stiffened in his seat, a bulge starting to form in his jeans that you pretended not to notice, all the while drawing hearts on the inside of his thigh with your long, pretty nails.

when you two finally started going out officially, you could tell that he didn't have much experience with relationships, his kisses were clumsy and he kept apologizing if he was 'doing it wrong' and you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

the first time he let you into his dorm room, it was like his personality had been transformed into a bedroom. when he slipped off into the bathroom, you rolled around in his sheets, smelling his shampoo on his pillow, your hand going to rub yourself over your leggings.

you giggled when you saw all the different boxer shorts neatly arranged in his drawer, grabbing a blue plaid pair and slipping them into your bag.

later that night, you called him, wearing his boxer shorts, your arousal soaking them the moment you put them on. he answered in a groggy voice that caused another pang of arousal to go through your body. he'd been up late doing homework, explaining the subject of his essay while you simply 'mmhm'ed and 'oh?'ed at everything the boy said, too busy rubbing yourself to pay any real attention.

you were looking at a picture that you'd secretly taken of him as you worked yourself closer and closer, picturing his hand was the one getting you off, thinking about what it'd be like to jerk him off with your favorite strawberry-scented lotion.

when you finally felt your orgasm rock through you, you bit down on your pillow to muffle the moans and the 'nngh!'s that escaped you.

and for the next ten-or-so minutes, you just listened to him rant about his classes, your hand still in his boxer shorts, a satisfied smile on your lips, thinking of all the ways in which you wanted to defile his innocence.

[beetleskeleton]

@pinksparklelps

Spark!! Cool rock!!

Lookie!!

rainbow lattice sunstone | source

[writersdrug]

Convincing bartender Simon to make one of those overly decorated and sweet cocktails or even add it to the menu because it’s cute and you know it’d do well on the gram and attract the ladies. He’d huff and puff but do it anyway

Like one of these with cotton candy, glitter, and sprinkles etc!: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/825988387943179970/

OMG wait I soooo want to try that-

The video ends, and Simon stares at the picture of the drink with a furrowed brow.

"Looks like somethin' you'd see at a bridal shower." He comments, handing you back your phone.

"Doesn' it?" You say with a smile, shoving your phone into your back pocket. You lean your arms over the bar and poke his side. "Come oooonnnnnn, Simon - imagine how many sales you'd make on something like that! People would love it."

"Imagine the money I'd lose, havin' t' buy bags of candy floss..." he grumbles, hiding his smirk behind his mask when you groan dramatically.

"You could do it as a promotional thing...? Like- ladies' night... in October?"

He snorts. "'Ladies' Night in October', hmm? N' what are ladies celebratin'?"

"Ok, fine- forget Ladies' Night. What about something for Halloween?"

"Like wot?" He grunts, grabbing a glass from the stack and pouring out one of the taps.

"I dunno... something fun, but practical - Oh! You could- like a Moscow Mule, but just serve it in a different glass and use edible glitter!"

Simon quirks his brow as he slides the beer glass to a customer. "Edible glitter?" He asks, wiping his hands on his rag. "Didn't know there was such a thing."

You nod quickly, your eyes full of excitement. "Yeah! God, I could pick up a bunch from the baker's supply down a few blocks. You could call it 'Witches' Brew.'"

He turns it over for a moment - in his opinion, it's ridiculous. He runs a pub, not a college bar. He would have scoffed at the idea of someone else had brought it up - but, it's you bringing it up, and that's a completely different story. You have such a brilliant gleam in your eye that melts his heart. He can't say no to you, especially after making you cry last week. He's still carrying out his penance for that.

"You think it'd sell?"

"Oh, for sure! I can make an insta post about it to get some attention."

He clicks his tongue, turning to the POS and seemingly uninterested by it. "Fine - if you spend anythin' promotin' it, let Price know. He'll reimburse ya."

You let out a triumphant whoop and slide of the barstool. He lets out a huff as you trot back to your tables, a noticeable pep in your step. He chances through the window on the kitchen door to see if his food is ready - what he's met with is Johnny's face, staring through the warming counter as he stands at the stove, a smug grin resting on his lips.

Simon can practically hear the cook's thoughts. Whipped bastard.

You had left without saying goodbye that night. You waited by the counter, rocking eagerly on your toes as Simon grabbed your tips from the night before out of the safe. As soon as he handed them to you, you snatched them and ran out the door. He was a bit irked by that, standing there with a stubborn frown as you pranced out of the restaurant - maybe you're still not back to being cheeky and chipper yet after last week. He can live with that... for now.

However, not twenty minutes later, you come stumbling back in with a paper bag in hand and a smile on your face, panting like you'd just run a marathon. Simon's anxieties quell at the sight of you.

"Got it!" You say breathlessly, walking to the edge of the bar and dropping the bag onto it. Simon folds his arms over his chest as you reach in and pull out a small bottle of glitter. You hand It to him and he takes it, holding it up to the dim light above.

"You can eat this shit?" He asks, brows furrowed.

"Mhmm!" You chirp, settling into a barstool. "Now, bartender - I'll have a Moscow Mule."

He sets the glitter down and grabs a clear glass, working on gathering the ingredients. "Ya only call me that when you want something."

"I'm calling you what you are." You respond, watching as he skillfully mixes everything together, pouring vodka from the jigger between two fingers, tossing in lime juice and topping it off with ginger beer. As shameful as it is to admit, you're kinda attracted to the skill he presents.

"Should be callin' me boss." He says, topping the drink off with a straw.

You slide off your stool and chuckle. "Yeah, you'd be into something kinky like that."

Simon has to bite the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the thought of you - nope. He won't even entertain the idea. He simply steps back a bit as you wedge yourself behind the bar (yes, he actually forces himself to give you enough room - he doesn't need you feeling hiw aroused he is).

You grab a bottle of the glitter and dash some into the drink. After swirling it with the straw, the liquid becomes iridescent with purple shimmer that billows about the glass. You look up at him with a satisfied smile.

"Witches' Brew." You announce, holding the drink out to him.

You look happy - an observation that makes Simon smile, even if he wasn't the one to cause your happiness. He lifts his mask, grabs one of the straws and plugs it, before bringing it to his mouth and sampling the drink.

"Tastes like a mule."

"But it looks like a potion, right?"

"'S this glitter goin' to be in my gut whenever I get autopsied?"

You laugh, grabbing the glass and leaving Simon behind the bar. "That would be a cute party trick." You call over your shoulder.

Simon watches you, arms folded over his chest and his eyes curious. You set the drink on the opposite end of the bar, pulling your phone from your pocket and pointing the camera to the glass. You grimace; your arm reaches over the bar to grab the rag lying over the faucet, and quickly wipe down the bartop. He huffs, grabbing his phone from the register and pulling up his group text with Soap and Price.

Ghost: got ourselves a marketing team.

He looks back up at you - you're hunched over, taking picture after picture of the drink. You twirl the straw in the liquid every few seconds, kicking up the glitter and making it reflect the low lighting of the bar.

Hus phone buzzes.

Price: ??

Ghost: she's making a drink for october and promoting it in social media

Soap: clever girl

Soap: what drink?

Ghost: moscow mule, but in a clear glass and with some edible glitter shit. it's pretty neat.

Soap: picture?

Price: Promoting? Will this cost me anything?

Simon chuckles. He pulls up the camera on his phone and aims it at you-

Except you're in a different position. You're perched so nicely on a barstool, holding your phone at arm's length and your drink in the other hand. You're smiling up at your camera, nose scrunched as you pose for a selfie. Your hair is down, your back is arched, and - did you tug your neckline down? You most certainly did. You're breasts weren't that pronounced before.

Without thinking, Simon takes a photo. The shutter clicks loudly: you look at him, as do the three patrons sitting at the bar.

Fuck. He panicks, clearing his throat and lowering his phone. "Jus' showin' the lads what you're up to." He says, but you can see the tension in his shoulders as he quickly sends the picture to the chat and puts his phone in his pocket.

You smirk - whether it was truly just for Price and Soap, or if it was for himself, you felt a little flattered that you'd caught him in the act. You hoped for the latter.

Simon exhales heavily and rests his palms on the counter. His face burns beneath his mask as he tries to calm his racing heart. Fuck- was that weird? Course it fuckin' was. Goddamn creep.

His phone buzzes again. He sighs and pulls it into his hand.

Price: Cute thing, isn't she?

Simon immediately frowns, any previous shame now replaced with a fire in his chest.

"Fuckin' wot?"