#root beer concentrate

[jayjsupremacy]

Root Beer Eggnog Recipe Eggnog gets a twist with this recipe that calls for root beer concentrate to be added to the classic Christmas beverage.

[ellishailey]

Eggnog - Root Beer Eggnog Eggnog gets a twist with this recipe that calls for root beer concentrate to be added to the classic Christmas beverage.

[ginevrashay]

Root Beer Eggnog Eggnog gets a twist with this recipe that calls for root beer concentrate to be added to the classic Christmas beverage.

[eff4freddie]

Free

No Outbreak AU!Joel Miller x AFAB Reader

Words: 7.7k of basically porn lols

You confess to Joel one of your filthiest fantasies, something you've never told anyone before. He's a good man, but you underestimate just how much he will do for you.

Warnings: Minors DNI. Explicit. Free use. Public sex. Praise kink. Beer bottles and dirty dive bars. Tiny lil breeding kink if you squint. Like seriously guys, this is filth. I've gone a little shy of myself? Like wow we are learning some things about Freddie tonight.

Like most wildfires, neither of you were sure where the first ember landed. Joel preferred dive bars, liked the blues on the juke box, the fact that he would wear his flannel and jeans flecked with paint and wood shaving and no one would notice. He knew you preferred the fancier places, occasionally would make an effort, but knew you also didn’t mind sometimes slumming it with him, sometimes just leaning back into a booth and letting the neon red light leech over your skin. You’d never admit it to his face, never give him the power over you, but you didn’t really care where you were so long as it was with him.

You liked it when he lifted the beer to his lips, saw his throat work to swallow it down. It reminded him of the times you’d made him gasp, groan, as he worked his cock into your throat. It felt like an intimate thing, the chords of his muscles working just right there under his skin. Sometimes you reached out, ran your fingertips under his collar, made him shiver. He’d grab your fingers, put them on his lips, press a kiss to them, tell you off for lettin’ ‘em get so cold in the night.

On these nights, when Sarah’s with the sitter and you’re winding down from a long week of work, its these nights when Joel takes you out in a pretty dress or a shirt skirt, waits in his truck while you slip your panties off and puts them in his pocket, helps you down to the street with a hand gripping the back of your thigh. It’s these nights, when Joel’s worked up from the job site, when he’s stressed about Sarah’s teenage rebellious phase, when it’s been a while between drinks, that he’s handsy with you, pushing himself into a booth in a dark corner and pulling you down on top of him, perched in his lap with your legs spread over his so that he can face you out to the bar, open your thighs just as someone walks past, lets you feel the breeze on your cunt while you hide your face in his neck and burn, either from embarrassment or from how wet he’s made you, showing you off like this, you tucking his hands under your bottom to stop him slipping them into you while you try to concentrate on the specials board.

‘Shy, baby?’ he’d tease you, pulling your hair off your neck to bite at your jaw line, whisper dirty nonsense into your ear while you fought for some kind of decency, some way to cover yourself up, at least until you’d finished your first drink.

It was one of those nights, when he’d finally relented and let you eat your meal in peace, that he’d got it out of you, the confession that set the whole thing in motion, the idea taking root in Joel’s mind so swiftly that the tendrils of it spilt into his veins, spiralled down to his cock, made him harder than he ever remembered being.

You knew this about Joel. That it wasn’t a jealousy streak, or an insecurity, that it wasn’t even so much of an exhibitionist streak for him. It was just that he liked showing you off, liked knowing that of all the men in the room who were undressin’ ya, wantin’ ya, he was the one with his fingers buried in your cunt while you struggled to act like nothing untoward was going on. He liked the power of it, the power he had over you, and you wondered sometimes how far he would go with it. What would happen if you were ever found bent over with his cock buried inside you, his hands on your hips pulling you back into him, his teeth bared and his sweat dripping onto your back. You knew without having experienced anything like it that he would probably keep going, that he would like the watching. That he’d probably goad the audience into coming closer, commentate for them, let them see what he, and only he, was wringing from your body as it clamped down around him. The thought of it, the image of it in your mind, kept you awake at night, your cunt throbbing. You felt the pride in it, you supposed, that he desired you so dearly he wanted to show off that he had you.

You knew all of that when you confessed to him what you were thinking about, three beers in and his hand on your knee, rubbing little circles with his thumb, sliding his whole hand over your skin and back down again, not even noticing he was doing it. You watched his pupils blow wide, the far away look come over him as he imagined what you were describing, the way he swallowed, hard.

‘You want that right now?’ he asked, and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning, not quite believing he’d actually been given the bike he’d asked Santa for.

‘No, not right now, probably not ever,’ you said, flopping your head onto his shoulder and listening to his quickening heartbeat in his neck. ‘Just like to think about it, is all.’

‘Baby you can’t say that to me and not…you have to know what you’re doing to me,’ he all but whined, and you giggled.

‘You wouldn’t mind it?’ you asked, pulling up to look at him again, study his eyes, knowing that you were way out on a limb now. You saw not an ounce of hesitation on his face.

He barely got you out of the place before he had you bent over the bed of his truck, your hands clawing for purchase on the chrome as he drilled into you right there in the parking lot, your face buried in your arms in the hope that the darkness of the night was protecting you both from being arrested.

--

He didn’t bring it up again for another few weeks, both of your jobs getting too busy, Sarah getting too demanding and fourteen, the world conspiring against you to rob you both of your dirty Fridays. Joel was getting pent up, the idea of it bouncing around his mind too often for him to concentrate, but his bones were sore of a nighttime, and he only had the energy to relieve himself in the shower before climbing into bed and switching off the light. You didn’t mind it, had been together a long enough time now to know there would be ebbs and flows. He held you as you slept, he kissed you in the morning even as you tried to shove him off and scold him for his morning breath, promised to take you out when your schedules were clear and knew that he meant it, that he was a man of his sometimes limited words. Sometimes it just went with the territory of wanting him always, you knew, that there would be aching times of not-having.

So you were surprised when you came home from dropping Sarah off at her friend’s for the night and saw his truck in the drive, expecting him much later if the week had been anything to go by. You heard him in the shower and figured he was washing off another stressful day, intending to leave him to it, except that for a man with basically one good ear he was surprisingly adept at knowing where you were at all times, and he emerged, towel wrapped loose around his hips and dripping onto the carpet, to pull you by the arm in with him. You just managed to strip out of your jeans before he was on you, pulling your wet bra off your skin, slipping your underwear down your legs and throwing them into the sink.

‘Won’t need those tonight,’ he said, simply, as you gawped at him, the water running off his shoulders and into your eyes. You leant forward, resting your forehead on his chest. It had been an intense few minutes.

‘Where we going tonight?’ you asked, and he didn’t answer, instead pulling back from you and bending to lift your leg up, hooking it over his elbow. You leant back onto the cold shower tile, the water beating down on your chest, as he dripped your favourite body wash onto a loofah and ran it tightly over your skin, crouching down and slipping your leg over his shoulder to run it up and down the inside of your thighs, each time his fingers sweeping closer to your cunt, the heat and steam of the shower making you light headed as your clit throbbed for him. He was teasing you, working you up and you knew he was going to leave you like this, that this is how the whole night would go unless you did something about it, pushing yourself off the wall and crashing your pussy into his mouth, the sharp angle of his nose landing hard on your clit as he gasped.

It hadn’t been the plan but he wasn’t above improvising. In his head he was just going to tease you a little, make sure that you were up for what he had planned, but this was just as good, just as effective. He was careful not to let you come, careful to keep you right on the edge, the suds and the water running over his mouth and nose as he lathed at your clit, ran his tongue up and down your seam, not letting it dip inside where he knew you wanted him. He looked up your body, watched your hips shudder and the muscles in your tummy roll and contract as you tried to draw him in deeper. He grinned, a huffled little laugh into your pussy. You were furious when he drew back, wet hands trying to grip his hair and keep him there. He held you to him, wrapped you warm up in a towel even as you cussed him out, madder than a barn cat at having had your pleasure interrupted. You were perfect like this, he thought, watching you huff, wild for him. He reminded you to dress for a night out. He made sure your underwear stayed in the sink.

--

You were still pissed, but your curiosity got the better of you when he missed the turn off for the bar, heading instead over the railway track and further out of town. If you had been speaking to him you would have asked where he was taking you, but you were refusing to let him off the hook for his cruelty in the shower. Twenty minutes later, when he pulled up to a bar you’d never seen before, a couple of dirt bikes parked out the front and a few trucks in the lot out the back, he gave you a little tap on the knee. You turned to him, eyebrows shooting up.

‘Figured we better go where no one knows us, baby,’ he said, and he was grinning at you in a way that made your belly flip, an electric bolt shooting straight between your legs.

‘What are you up to, Miller?’ you asked, as he leant over and undid your seatbelt. He made you jump down out of the truck yourself, striding as he was towards the bar. The bright red OPEN sign buzzed over the door, the sound of it reverberating into the air beneath it where you stood, your nerves jangling in tune. Surely he wouldn’t, you thought. You pulled your short skirt down, worried now that without underwear a strong breeze would expose you to anyone passing by. He held the door open for you, darkness behind him and the sounds of clinking glass, tinny guitar over a shitty sound system, chatter and drunkenness.

‘Trust me, baby,’ he said, and you did, you knew you did. He held his hand out to you. You took it.

Once inside you could see a bit better. The bar itself was quite small, a couple of men sitting around it drinking beers and whiskeys. There was a row of booths under the blacked-out windows, a pool table in one corner. By the bar a hallway led down to the bathrooms. You shivered when you saw it.

He led you by the hand to the corner of the bar right next to the hallway, the single stool.

‘This is where I’ll be,’ he said to you, putting your hand on the bar to feel how solid it was, that it was real and that this was happening, to ground you. He pulled you forward, five or maybe six paces down the hallway, to a piece of wall right by the men’s bathroom. He backed you up against it, letting you glance over his shoulder to the stool where you had just been.

‘This is where you’ll be,’ he said to you, his voice heavy and thick and you recognised the want in it, the need. He spun you around, kicking your feet apart and holding your hands up above your head. You tried to breathe but couldn’t seem to get enough air, tried to expand your lungs but you could only puff and gasp, your stomach doing somersaults as he positioned you. He pushed them into the wall, the two of them held together under his palm.

‘You don’t move them from here,’ he said, stern and calm at the same time. ‘You look over your shoulder you’ll see me, but you don’t move these from here. Nod so I know you heard me, baby,’ he said. You nodded your head, your nose almost grazing the plaster of the filthy wall. He pulled your hips out so that you bowed slightly, your arse sticking back behind you. He ran his hands over the back of your thighs, leant down to cup your bottom as he ran his hands up and over, pulled your skirt over your hips.

Your heart was racing so hard you could feel it in your knees, your whole body thrumming as he exposed you to the room. You heard no shouts or protests, your eyes slammed shut and your face buried in your arm. You could feel cool air on your skin as he moved away from you, and you yelped, a bolt of panic shooting through you. You lifted your head and he was there again, his arms over yours as he covered you, brought his mouth down to your ear.

‘You can do this baby, I’m right here,’ he said, and you felt like you might scream or cry or come, you weren’t sure which or what you preferred, your mind scrambling to keep up with the fact that he was letting you play out one of your dirtiest fantasies, that he trusted you this much, that you knew he would keep you safe, would stop it from going too far if you needed him to, that you wanted this, that you wanted to give it to him.

‘Two rules,’ he said, when he could tell you were coming back into yourself, that you were listening. ‘Hands stay on the wall,’ he said, his voice rough and low as he stopped to chew on your earlobe. You could feel you were wet, could feel you were shivering. You hadn’t had a good look at the men in the bar. You weren’t sure if you were glad of it.

‘Second rule,’ he said, and now he was running his hands over your hips and down your belly to rub little circles into your clit. You shuddered, pushing back against him, felt that he was throbbing. ‘No coming ‘til I say so,’ he said, and then he was gone, your body cold and aching where he had just been.

You lifted your head and turned to watch him over your shoulder, your spine twisting to see without moving your hands, now resting palm-down above your head. You saw him calmly order a beer from the bartender, who didn’t bat an eyelid at you standing, skirt over your arse and bent at the waist, the seam of your pussy exposed to the entire bar, your thighs quivering as you felt the slick start to collect on your skin.

All you could do was try and breathe. Try to keep your knees from shaking, your legs from collapsing underneath you. You turned your face back to the wall, your nose resting on the brick, as you gulped down air and tried to swallow on a bone-dry throat. Maybe nothing would happen if you just stayed completely still, you thought. Wasn’t that how they survived the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park?

You could hear the toilet in the men’s room flushing, the tap running as the dude, mercifully, washed his hands. You knew you were seconds away from being confronted, that he would have to squeeze past you if he wanted to get back to his table, that maybe the others wouldn’t have seen you tucked away as you were down the side of the bar, but not now, not where Joel had positioned you. You closed your eyes, the humiliation of it mixing with heat in your cunt, and you couldn’t decide what you wanted to happen, couldn’t quiet your mind enough other than to count backwards from 10 and try to force your lungs to work.

10. You heard the door swing open, the rush of air ruffling the skirt over your lower back.

9. Footsteps striding out of the bathroom, stopping abruptly.

8. A short, sharp exhale of breath. A ‘what the fuck?’. Surprised, but not angry.

7. A long, heavy second or two of silence.

6. A slower footstep. Another. Towards you.

5. A hand, warm and foreign, on your hip as he moved behind you.

4. The thunderous sound of your voice in your head telling you to just stay still, stay still, stay still.

3. A nervous little laugh as he slid behind you, his hips to yours to get past you on the wall. His hand still on your hip but gripping, fingers squeezing at your flesh.

2. A soft swipe of your cunt as he clears you, his fingers gently fluttering over your seam as you stand, exposed and wet.

1. Your gasp, all of the breath you had been trying to get suddenly sweeping into your lungs, a needy little whine on the exhale, a shiver.

And a few moments later, laughter, a group of men on the other side of the bar, a hint of disbelief in it, a hint of awe. You blinked your eyes open, your body quaking. You couldn’t turn your head, wouldn’t turn your head to Joel, but you knew he was there, knew he was watching you quiver, knew he would stop it if it got too much, that you wouldn’t have to ask him, that he would just know. You felt heat on your cheeks and a twist of something in your gut. For a moment you wanted to skip forward to the aftermath, to Joel holding you in bed and loving on you, recounting the events that hadn’t even unfolded yet as you felt the heat of his skin and the strength of his arms, the muscles ripping under his skin as he kissed the shell of your ear and let you drift to sleep, wrapped up in him.

 Joel gripped the neck of his beer bottle harder than he intended, barely registering the cold on his hands. It had been his idea to set this up, he knew that, had rented the whole place out to make a safe space for you to play, had vetted the guys from the job site, had been careful to select the ones he knew would treat you right. Still, though. Still, he could see you were shaking, trying so hard to be good for him with your hands pushed into the wall, and he doubted for just a second, wondered whether he should call it. He could see you were slick between your thighs, could hear that you were breathing heavy. But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t feel a surge of something a little like jealousy at the way the eyes of the guys travelled over your delicious curves, curves he had – up until this moment – reserved the sole right to traverse. He wondered if the guys would be able to stick to the limits once they had you under them. He was ready to pull you out of there the moment something got out of hand, but he worried, now and for the first time, that by then it could be too late.

You swallowed over your dry throat. You were trying to stay in your body, to close your eyes and give yourself over to it, but you were still struggling to quiet your mind. This is what you had wanted, and you knew Joel would never push you further than what you had told him you would go. You knew that. But did the other guys? You considered for a moment, the thought occurring to you like a lightning bolt, that Joel had worked you up in the shower precisely so that you would be horny enough not to run for the door the second he tried this. You almost wanted to laugh, except that you were too scared to lest you lose all control.

There were more footsteps, coming towards you from beside the bar, and you swore you heard a group of men cheering the man on. He wasn’t hesitating, whoever this stranger in the bar was, probably having spotted you from across the room. You kept your eyes on the floor, your head hanging low between your shoulders. From this angle you could see your ankles, the heels Joel insisted you wear even though you could barely stand in them, realising now why he wanted you off balance, why he wanted you unable to run for the door. Two pairs of trainers appeared between your ankles, a rough hand coming down to rest on your left butt cheek. It wasn’t a slap, wasn’t even a particularly hard grope, but you whimpered anyway, slammed your eyes shut and immediately wondered if it was better to look or not.

And throughout it all your pussy throbbed. Even if you were in turmoil it knew exactly what it wanted, was hungry for the attention and the desires of all these men, was having a fucking field day knowing Joel was watching you, wanting you, from across the room.

The man behind you slid two fingers over your seam, his breath on the back of your neck as he leaned over you. You shuddered, his skin rougher than Joels, as he prodded at you, eased your lips open and ran his fingers up along the flesh there. You realised he was collecting your slick, felt him pull away and his lips smack around his hand as he, presumably, sucked you off his skin.

‘Jesus, boys,’ he called to his friends over the other side of the room, and you startled. ‘She’s fuckin’ sweeter than honey and dripping onto the floor.’

Under the cheers you swore you heard Joel chuckle, and you shivered. You wanted this man to touch you again, almost whined when he instead moved back to his table. You were sweating, could feel that the small of your back was damp, felt like you had a fever, some kind of delirium, the pulsing of your cunt so intense it almost hurt.

You heard more shuffling footsteps, now, three or four sets, as you realised the table of friends were making their way over to you. You shivered, turned a wild eye over to Joel, who was sipping at his beer and watching you, nodding gently at you to keep you there. You kept your hands on the wall. You wanted to be his good girl.

‘And we can touch her wherever?’ a guy was saying, and you moved your face back to the wall, arching your back slightly, practically waving your cunt in the air.

‘She ain’t protesting,’ a voice said, and you recognised it as the man who had just touched you. To demonstrate his point, he extended his hand to your face and stuck two of his fingers in your mouth, and you sucked them willingly, tasting a hint of yourself on him. You felt your eyes close all by themselves, smiling as the man gasped.

‘Holy shit,’ someone else commented, and you were slapped hard on your arse then, the sting of it making you whine. A finger quickly followed, probing you open again, your copious amounts of slick easing the entry.

‘Like this?’ the voice said, and you realised he was asking you a question, and you nodded your head. ‘Yeah, you like this,’ the voice affirmed, a finger finally sinking into your cunt. You felt yourself spasm, throwing your head back and groaning, your hips rolling all on their own.

‘Tight little thing,’ someone said, and you grunted as another finger was added. You were being pushed into the wall, your face lying on the brick, your hands still planted above your head.

‘Ease it on her a little,’ a third voice said, and you felt another hand snake around you, this one cold on the fingertips, as it slid over your clit.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, the pleasure of it shooting through you. You could feel that you were clamping down on the fingers inside you.

‘She liked that a lot,’ the man beside you said, and he pulled his fingers from your mouth and dropped them to your tit, rubbing the nipple through the barely-there shirt Joel had picked out for you tonight.

You were whimpering, gradually losing control of the sounds you were making, of your little cries into the noise of the bar, and you could hear them snickering, laughing at your pleasurable distress, at the ache and thrum of your cunt, at the way you were so wet you were leaking down your thighs.

You were losing your grip on your thoughts, felt them slipping through you, unable to catch them as they dripped past. From somewhere a memory stirred itself up, sitting on Joel’s lap in the bar you always go to, his hand pushing on your clit from outside your panties as he shielded you from the rest of the patrons, whispering into his ear that you fantasised about being used by strange men, about being set up by him to be groped and fondled, to be watched as men took their pleasure from you, to have to wait for them to be done with you, to be bored of you, before you were released. ‘But they never get bored of me, not really. Sometimes they let me rest for a bit. But they want me that bad, they can’t stop.’

‘How long’s this all take, when you think about it?’ he asked, feeling even through the fabric of your underwear that you were dripping.

‘Sometimes hours,’ you whimpered, breathless just at the thought of it. ‘I’m free for their use, for hours. For hours,’ you said.

--

Now, with your hands against the wall in just the position you had described to Joel weeks before, you bite your lip. God, how long does he plan on keeping you here? You want to come already, want to push down on the hands behind you and flood them with your spend.

These men, though, these three, are just teasing you, and right when you start to rock your hips they pull away again.

‘Unreal,’ one of them says, as if you’re a work of art hanging on a wall in a museum, and you want to howl at them, want to grab their hands and put them back on your skin. You resist the urge, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Joel said no coming, so maybe you should be grateful. Even if you’re now quivering. Even if you’re not sure your legs will keep you standing.

You take a couple of shaky breaths, coming down enough to notice that your shoulders are starting to ache. You roll them, careful to keep your palms connected to the surface, trying to push the hair out of your eyes by running your face along your forearms.

You’re not sure how long you stand there. You try counting the songs on the jukebox but they all sound the same to you, and it’s hard to decipher when one stops and the next one begins. Every now and again there’s the sound of glasses being dumped into the trough behind the bar, clinking ice and peels of male laughter. Once or twice, someone walks past on the way to the bathroom and pat you on the arse, put a hand on your lower back and bend you further, pushing you until your sweet little cunt is more fully exposed. But no one is bold enough to touch, no one is as forward as the three men from before, and you’re feeling a twinge of disappointment settling in between the arousal and the shock. These scant touches aren’t nearly enough, and you realise that you’re pining for someone to come and tease you, play with your cunt or your tits until you’re gasping.

You chance a look over your shoulder at Joel and see that he’s turned away from you a little, his beer in his hand while he chats to a man beside him, and his casual disregard for your predicament infuriates you as much as it sends bolts of heat to your cunt.

You’re being ignored, you realise, and it makes your tummy do weird flips you don’t fully understand. You start to arch your back again, weave your hips in slow circles in the air. You don’t have a lot of mental capacity in this moment, so it’s only later you will consider that Joel had made sure you would beg for any attention, knew that you would be outraged at not being the centre of attention in this moment, that you would reach a new level of depraved heat just to get the eyes back on you. It had maybe been half an hour and you’d gone from praying no one would see you if you didn’t move, to trying to scent the air around you with your cunt, luring them to you like a siren on a rocky cove.

Now, though, now all you want is for someone to touch you, someone to ease their hands onto your skin and feel the heat of it, coo at how mean your man is, how silly for letting a pretty little thing like you out of his clutches. You realise you allowed to close your legs and you do, wrapping one foot behind your ankle so you can rub your thighs together. The skin slides easily and you sigh, gently.

You’re wrapped up in it, your ears tuning out the noise around you to properly concentrate on the thrum of your cunt, so you don’t realise there’s someone behind you until they’re basically on you, kicking your legs apart and arching you back again.

‘Naughty girl,’ the voice says, and it’s not Joel and you’re marginally disappointed but also it means this isn’t over yet, and you grin back at him.

‘Not sorry,’ you say, and you’re pulled back then, almost bent over in a right angle as your hands slide down the wall but stay on it, your arms now covering your ears.

You just barely hear a grunt, then something cold and hard is pushing at your lips for entry, and you realise that you are being fucked in a strange bar with a beer bottle in front of however many strange men, and you groan at the insanity of it, at the filth. He’s twisting it, his other hand finding your clit, and you’re throwing your head back now, your hair falling down your back as you arch, the glass so smooth and cold inside you that you wonder for a second if you’ve fogged it up. Its thrust into you three, four, five times before the man slips it from you, and you hear him take a swig of it, the taste of your cunt on the glass as he lifts it to his lips. He groans, rests a hand on the small of your back as he sips.

‘Sweet?’ someone calls out, and you hear him laugh.

‘Heaven,’ he says. ‘Come get yours before I ruin her.’

You hear chairs being pushed back, and looking down at the floor you count seven pairs of shoes assembling in a line behind you. You can hear some guys are still playing pool, the crack of the 8 ball as someone breaks. You look for Joel’s along the line of shoes behind you. You don’t see them.

There are fingers in your cunt again, two or maybe three, you’re not sure, and you have moved up a little, your tits pressed to the wall as they grope you from behind. It’s delicious, exactly the right pressure in exactly the right spot, as if someone has given them all a manual to your body. Someone lifts your leg under the knee and twists your hip so that you can rest your foot on his thigh, and then you’re even more open, even more exposed. You close your eyes, your spine twisting to keep both arms on the wall, but in this position one man can get underneath you on his knees and lick up into you and you gasp at the feeling of it, the warmth of his tongue compared to the cold of the bottle, and you’re really sweating now, want to rip your top off and pull the skirt from around your waist just to get it out of the way, but someone is using it to hold you still, the fabric bunched under your tits so that you won’t fall. With one mouth on your cunt someone else is behind you with his fingers inside you, and someone else is holding your tits in his hands, his thumbs squeezing and rubbing at your nipples.

Over your shoulder you can hear someone commentating for his friend. ‘Fuck, you thought she was wet before,’ they’re saying, and the way they’re talking about you like you’re not there, like you’re an object for them to play with, a doll, a toy, has you bucking against the tongue on your clit, against the fingers inside you. They’re setting you on fire, the embers catching on gasoline. It’s heaven and its torture and its so, so much.

Fuck, you’re going to come and you can’t stop it. But you have to, you promised Joel. You’re almost wailing now, trying to get the feeling out in some way so that you won’t tip over the edge, and the guys are laughing.

‘Listen to her hollerin’,’ someone says, and you can’t keep your eyes closed anymore, open them to see a bunch of men standing around you, all of them palming their cocks through their pants, as one man crouches under your form, his shoulder pushed hard into the wall to get under you. You can’t see the man behind you but one is off to the side, his eyes on our cunt as he bounces your tits in his hands.

‘Oh, hey beautiful,’ one of the men watching says when he catches your eye. He’s handsome, they all are, you realise, and they’re all in their early 30s and they’re all incredibly fit, and if you had any presence of mind in this moment you would consider that this was an odd coincidence, but as it is right now you just want their cocks in your mouth, want their come dripping over your tits and your face. The one behind you, with his fingers buried in your cunt, is grinding against you and for a deranged moment you consider freeing him from his pants and slipping him inside you.

‘She’s so fucked out,’ someone laughs, and you’re gasping, crying out as if that will stop you from coming, but it’s not enough, the cliff is right there. You’re rolling your hips, your mouth agape and gasping when you’re not howling for relief.

‘Like a bitch in heat,’ someone says. ‘Hey, tag out.’

All of them stop, hold you steady for a second. You’re panting, your legs weak as you lean your weight on the wall. You can feel yourself receding from the cliff again, can feel the throb in your cunt easing off just enough that you can think. Your leg is dropped back to the floor, and you are jostled back into position as the men rearrange themselves, and you realise they’re taking turns using you. Even without their hands on you, the thought alone could make you come. You want to turn your head to look for Joel but they’re crowding around you, and for a second there’s a drop of panic in your belly before it’s replaced again with wildfire. You know he’s there. Know he’ll stop it if he needs to.

‘Holy shit, she’s still so tight,’ someone says, slipping back into place in your cunt, and another man laughs. ‘Get the bottle again, stretch her out.’ Their hands are probing again, a man finger-fucking you from the front now, another holding you up from behind as they twist you off to the side. They’re all staring at your cunt, at where you’re spreading open to take them, marvelling at the intrusion.

‘How many fingers you reckon she can take?’ someone asks, and you buck your hips away from it, away from how obscene it is, from how irrevocably turned on in makes you.

‘Joel said not to mark her,’ someone says, and much later you will recall this, recognise this as the moment you might have realised he had set all of it up, including who these men were. As it was you were too busy trying to quell the rushing bliss thundering through you, trying to hold back the cracking dam with your pinkie finger and good will.

‘Scoot over, then,’ someone says, and you are moved again, your legs opened up a little further so that two hands can be inside you at once, their fingers moving just out of sequence enough that they rub at different speeds, forming a relentless piston, a wave of pleasure that’s going to drag you under, fill your lungs.

You can’t take it. Your eyes are blurring from unshed tears, the respite from moments ago disappearing under the weight of the bodies covering you. Are your hands still on the wall? You open your eyes a crack to check. You want them to throw you over their shoulders and slip their cocks inside you, one in front and one behind. You want to roll on the floor with them, have them line up and sink yourself down on them one by one like some kind of deranged Goldilocks. You want every last one of them to come on you, in you, to breed you, to make you theirs.

You can feel your back arching, can feel that you’re rearing up again, the pleasure twisting up your spine and elongating it, your head pulling hard up and away from your shoulders. You’re holding your breath, trying to keep the orgasm away, but it’s bolting up on you.

‘I can’t, I can’t,’ you’re saying, and you’re not even sure what you can’t do exactly. Can’t hold it back, can’t take anymore, can’t stop. Can’t come like this, not allowed to. Joel’s good girl.

‘Hey!’ a voice booms from the bar and you recognise it immediately, Joel standing up and moving towards you. He’s seen you struggling, has seen your hips rolling and heard your wails as you tried to hold back for him. ‘I said no comin’!’ he bellows, and you groan. Your knight in shining armour has arrived just to keep fucking torturing you.

‘Joel!’ you cry, whine, nearly in tears for the need of him. Suddenly you don’t want any of these guys, you just want him, want his smell and the sweet softness of his flannel, want his eyes on you and his whispers in your ear. Want his cock inside you, his come claiming you from within. He’s shouldering his way to you, pushing the guys out of the way, and then he’s with you, your heart racing as his hands are on your shoulders, turning you back to the wall.

‘So good f’me, baby, I know, I know,’ he’s soothing you and you realise you’re sobbing, your breaths coming in deep huffs.

‘Please, please,’ you’re calling for him, and you feel his arm around your waist, feel him scrabbling around to undo his belt and pull down his fly, at the same time as he’s lifting you up and pulling you down on his cock, the fit of him so perfect inside you, his skin inside yours. The guys are watching and you don’t care, because finally he’s with you again, finally he’s the right one, and you’re groaning and gasping, calling his name as he whispers filth in your ear.

‘None of these men get your come,’ he’s saying, ‘none of these guys. Just me that makes ya come, ya hear me?’ and you’re nodding.

‘I want you to make me come, Joel. Only you, only you.’

‘Can feel you grippin’ me, baby,’ he’s babbling, and he’s not sure he’s ever been so hard. He was so patient, watching the guys take you apart bit by bit, until your eyes were unfocussed and your mouth was hanging open, gasping and trying so hard to catch your breath. He could see it in the strain of your muscles, in the way you were panting and hollerin’, that you were holding off for him, that you were keeping yourself sweet and well behaved out of love for him, out of desire, and despite all the other men in the room that wanted you he knew in that moment you were his, that you were his good girl, his, his, his.

It hadn’t been his plan to fuck you like this, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you callin’ for him. He’d thought he’d just let you come on their hands or their faces, or that you would eventually break and he’d get to slap your arse a little as punishment, but not that you would nearly snap every bone in your body, let your sinew scream and strain, just to stay his good girl.

He surges forward, gripping you to him with one arm, and raises his other hand to cover yours, still pushing into the wall of the bar. He can feel that the skin is ragged underneath, that the exposed brick has grazed you from your effort of keeping your hands there, and he resolves to bathe you in warm water and lick every inch of broken skin the moment he gets you home.

But not yet. Right now, he’s pushing himself further inside you, lifting you up a little so that you’re just on your tippy toes on the floor, balancing on his cock so he can get even deeper inside. You’re keening, your whole body shaking, and you’re not sure you’re going to survive this but you really, really don’t mind going out this way.

You don’t even have words. You can barely get air. You just entwine your fingers with Joels’ where he holds your hands to the wall, tuck your chin to your chest and howl, the orgasm crashing over you and rolling almost immediately into another one, Joel behind you and fucking up into you while you know you still have an audience, while they’re coming onto the floor at your feet, jerking it to the idea of them being the ones to be inside you, of their cocks splitting you open and feeling your cunt milk them dry. You don’t care about any of them, don’t care that they want you so much they’ll settle for their own fists, because all you want is this man, this one inside you and coming deep into your cunt, this one who loves you, who carries you now in his arms with warmth and strength, who is holding you up as he ruts his spend into you, as he gasps and cries out for you, in this very fucking public dive bar just off the highway, where you know you can never step foot again.

--

He doesn’t let you sink to the floor, no matter how badly your legs want to give out on you, but is instead wrapping his hands under your knees, under your arms and lifting you to him.

‘Dirty down there, baby,’ he says, and you open one eye to see the streams of come decorating where you were just standing. The men have all disappeared, knowing that the fun is over, and Joel has wrapped his coat around you at some point, and your muscles are loose and stretched and shaking, suddenly cold from the chill of your sweat in the open air. You tuck your head under his chin, listen to the way he grunts, quietly, when he pushes open the door with his shoulder and carries you to the car. You feel him drop you into the passenger seat of the truck, feel him put the seatbelt on you and turn the heater up as soon as the engine starts.

You can’t move, your whole body spent. You realise by how dark the night is outside the car window that it has been hours. That he has given you everything you asked for, and then just a little bit more. You crack one eye open to watch him as he drives, the streetlights strobing over his face, the scruff on his cheeks, the pointed angle of his nose, the greys appearing by the day in his hair.

You feel your eyes drift shut again, the heat of the car and the warmth of his jacket soothing you down to sleep. He has given you something you only ever dreamed about, something you never even hoped to one day have. You don’t mean the guys in the bar.

Tag list:

@kyloispunk

@604to647

[imsososolesbian]

I dunno if you take requests but if you do could you write Shauna Shipman x Reader where they're going grocery shopping and reader is being childish and trying to convince Shauna to get things they don't need like candy or soda lol,, no pressure i know it's kinda strange but thanks if you do :3

Hope this is what you were looking for Anon.

Put that Back

Shauna Shipman x GN!reader

No warnings

Word Count: 1204

You and Shauna were on your weekly grocery run. It was the beginning of a new month so it meant that you would have to go to Costco. Shauna loved you, but she hated taking you to Costco. You loved Costco. It was your happy place. 

Shauna looked through her purse, pulling her costco card out. “We are in and out. We are just getting fruit and vegetables,” she looked you in the eye, and you nod. Shauna smiled softly and opened her door, “Come on then honey, lets go. I don’t want to be here long.” 

You follow Shauna from the car to the doors, inside you get a buggy. Shauna makes a beeline for the vegetable and fruit freezer. She knew you would mess around and try to put things that weren’t needed in the buggy. 

You watch as Shauna looks through different types of produce. Putting the best looking ones into the buggy, a look of concentration on her face. She would occasionally look up from putting things in the buggy and give you a smile. 

Once Shauna was happy with all the food she picked up, the two of you walked towards the registers. You stood next to her as she talked to the cashier, an arm around her waist. You were watching the person put all the fruit and vegetables into the shopping cart again. 

The walk to the car was more hectic than the time in Costco. You had to dodge people. Extreme focus on what people were doing. It was a relief when you made it to the car. You let Shauna get in the car, as you packed the produce into shopping bags and put them in the trunk. You close the trunk, and start to walk your buggy back to one of the buggy stands. You push the buggy into an open spot and turn around making your way back to the car. 

You get into the passenger side, putting some hand sanitizer on. You rub it into your hands, watching Shauna as she did something on her phone, “We are going to stop at Walmart on the way home, okay honey?” she says, looking up from her phone to you. 

“Sounds good,” you reply, pulling your seatbelt on. You lean your head on the window as she drives. 

Shauna pulls into the parking lot. She shuts the car off, “In and out. Bagels and bread are on sale.” 

You nod and get out, and walk around the car, opening Shauna’s door. “Thanks, hun,” she steps out of the car, putting her purse over her shoulder. You offer your hand to her, a smile on your face. 

Shauna always parked further from the entrance of a store. Stating she didn’t like being parked close to cars. So the two of you talked as you walked. You gently swing your arms, and Shauna kept looking over at you, a fond look on her face. 

You once more got a shopping cart, and pushed it around following Shauna. She first guided you to the bread aisle. She graded a few loafs of bread, and put them in the cart. She then looked at the bagels. It was four for five. She hummed and hawed, looking at all the different types of bagels. Finally she picked up a pack of cinnamon raisin, everything, blueberry and plain. 

“Callie texted. She wants to try this new sparkling water thing. We have to go to the drinks,” Shauna said, and you nodded, ready to pull away from the bread and walk over to the drinks. 

You were so going to try and get root beer. You had been wanting a root beer float for a long time now. You only really went grocery shopping with Shauna during the first week of the month because it was the biggest haul. You also didn’t always have the time to go shopping with her other days because of your workload. You going meant you could somewhat sway things and get what you wanted for the week.

You watch as Shauna walks away from you in the drink aisle, and you reach up, picking up a two liter bottle of root beer. You were able to sneak it into the cart before Shauna came back. Yet of course when she did come back she looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “Why is there root beer in the cart?”

You shrug, “For floats?” You ask, eyes bright as you look at Shauna and she sighs.

“Put it back. We have pop at home,” she says, and puts over to the shelf where you got it.

“Please Shauna. We could watch a movie and have root beer floats,” you plead with her, doing your best at puppy dog eyes you can. Still Shauna shakes her head, and you turn disappointed and you put it back.

You thought it was just an in and out trip, but it turned out not to be. You found yourself in the dairy aisle with Shauna. She was looking at different types of milk. Yet you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the ice cream. You turn to look at Shauna and she's still looking at milk so you walk over to the ice cream.

You get out your favourite type. You bring it over to the cart and gently place it in. You step back beside Shauna, and look at her, “Still thinking?” 

“Yes. I know Callie likes almond milk. You like chocolate. I’ll use whatever we have, so I don’t know what to even get,” Shauna looked at you, “And no I’m not taking suggestions because last time you got cashew milk and you hated it.” 

You laugh, “I thought it would taste good.”

Shauna gives you a look before she finally pulls out a jug of plain cow's milk. “Come on then,” she turned to put the milk in the cart, and spotted the ice cream, “Hey honey, why is there a thing of ice cream in here?”

“Because” 

“That’s not an answer hun,” Shauna picks up the ice cream and passes it to you, “Put it back.”

You take the ice cream from her, “Fine but I want a pack of sour candy, then” 

Turning around you walked over to the freezer and put the ice cream back.You look at all the flavours one more time. You let out a sigh and walk over to Shauna taking control of the cart again.

You had picked up different things in different ailes before you and Shauna had made it to the candy aisle and you got to pick out a thing of sour candy. You pick up your favourtie type of sour candy and turn to Shauna. “This is what I want,” you toss it into the buggy, and Shauna nods. 

The two of you check out and you bring the cart to the car, loading everything up with the stuff from Costco. You close the trunk, you put the sour candy in your pocket and you push the buggy back to its proper place. 

You sat back in the passenger seat, and by the time you were back at the house, all your candy was gone. 

[dystyches]

Danganronpa 2 × Mixx Garden

2022 Collaboration Café Drink Recipes & Reviews (Pt. 1)

Since October of 2022, I've been very slowly working my way through a project in which I've recreated (to the best of my ability) the drink recipes advertised as part of the Mixx Garden & Danganronpa 2 collab.

Below the cut will be my recreations and reviews of the first three (out of eleven) character-themed drinks on the menu—the ones for Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, and Gundham Tanaka.

If you end up creating any of these yourself, I'd love to hear what you think!

I spent my time during the collab looking at all of the images I could find of people's drinks on Twitter and Instagram, searching relevant words and tags in both Japanese and English. I was able to find at least two images of every single drink at the café.

My information on the ingredients comes from the descriptions on the menu, as well as what I could infer from the pictures.

Without further ado, let's begin.

—————

First on the list is Hajime Hinata's drink. The ingredients (translated into English for your convenience) are:

Mint candy pearls (dragées), 8-minute whipped cream, white hot chocolate, mint (garnish, not mentioned in recipe but present in photo)

Now for the record, I have no professional experience making food or drinks. I'm not exactly sure what makes "8-minute" whipped cream distinct from the other recipes being listed with just unspecified whipped cream, but I abided by the rules and whipped the cream for approx. 8 minutes. I assume it has something to do with the stiffer peaks giving it a denser feel.

I wasn't able to find candy pearls that were mint-flavored, which is a shame. But I did manage to find silver ones to match the look of the images.

It was fun to make the white hot chocolate from scratch as well, which I did in a batch large enough also to serve the friends I had over for the New Year's Eve party I was hosting.

Happy birthday, Hajime.

On a personal level I'm typically not a fan of white chocolate, but this was nice. The mint was a very good touch. My friends, who do like white chocolate, appreciated the drink even more than I did. Two of the four people present ranked it a 10 out of 10.

—————

Second on the menu was Nagito Komaeda's drink. The ingredients are:

Raspberries, whitewater (Calpis water), black lemon jelly

If you're unfamiliar with Calpis (alternatively spelled Calpico) and plan on making this drink yourself, do make sure that you get the diluted Calpis water and not the concentrated form.

In the pictures of this drink I looked at, the raspberries appeared to be frozen, which made them have this nice bleeding as they thawed.

Well, I forgot to do that.

If you've never had Calpis water before, you may worry that something with a milky, yogurt-y flavor wouldn't mix well with the lemon flavor. I can assure you that it actually works just fine.

I only had one other friend with me to try this one, and he doesn't like raspberries much. He still gave it a 7 out of 10. I think this drink is great.

—————

Lastly for this post, the third drink was Gundham Tanaka's. The ingredients are:

Whipped cream, blueberries, cola

Simple enough.

I made four to share with others, and apparently forgot to take a picture of one solitary.

After such a fortuitous result with my enjoyment of the prior drink, I knew my luck was soon to turn.

If I had to describe the taste of this drink through comparison, I'd probably say it tastes somewhere between a root beer float and pilk. I do not like either of those.

One of my friends said she quite liked it, and ranked it an 8.5 out of 10. Another called it "harmless".

—————

Next on the list, which I will get around to in a sequel post, will be the drinks for Kazuichi Soda, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, and Izuru Kamukura.

Thanks for reading, see you next time!

[youshouldhavepaidattentiondad]

Ziggs takes another drag off the joint they hold. They exhale the smoke, watching it rise up to the moon and stars.

The full moon shines bright over the field of Perky's Buds. Even the patch Ziggs has claimed with a blanket spread out beneath their body.

They wish they could be a star. That would be so rad. Maybe turn into a shooting star one day.

The clink of bottles pulls Ziggs out of their thoughts. They look over to see Skud settling on the other side of the blanket. A six pack of root beer now sits between them.

“Hey, man,” Ziggs greets as they hold out the joint.

“Sup, Ziggy?” Skud replies as he takes the blunt.

A few minutes later, Skud lies on the blanket as well. His blue eyes dart around at all the stars, as if trying to connect the constellations.

“...hey,” Ziggs says, breaking Skud's concentration.

“...what?” He replies, turning his head to look at his friend.

Ziggs stays quiet for a long moment. “Do you think��� like maybe we're all part of something bigger?”

“...bigger how?” Skud questions as he looks back to the sky. He squints. He can imagine the stars as eyes. A thousand eyes watching down on them from the black depths of space.

“I dunno,” Ziggs admits. They reach for their bottle of root beer, sitting up slightly so they can take a sip. “Like a tree, I guess. Each generation is like a new branch. Then those branches shoot off into smaller branches then those branch off and suddenly there's this beautiful tree, filled with the leaves of the lives of everyone who had ever lived.”

Skud drinks this in, letting out a slow exhale. “Dude, that was, like, super deep.”

[slowlyhardgoatee]

Y’know, there’s nothing that gets me hotter than being balls deep up a fag’s cunt while I’m smoking, boy.

Sliding my hard cock deep into you, letting my cigar ash fall on your stomach as I take another puff, and knowing that, whether you like it or not, I won’t be pulling out until I’ve bred your hole.

You like the sound of that, boy? ‘Yes Sir’? Good. Now, tell me where you think your hands belong when I’m fucking you, faggot. In fact, I’ll just tell you. If I haven’t tied you to the bed posts, which I haven’t this time, it means your hands belong on my nipples. That’s it. Tug on them fuckers for me, faggot. Yeah. Tug on ‘em. Fuuuuck yeah, pig boy. Harder. Oh yeah.

Notice how the harder you tug, the harder I fuck. Now, I’ll be perfectly clear - you keep tugging Sir’s nipples like that and my mind will be concentrated on only one thing - getting my nut. Your hands do not move off my nipples until I’ve dumped my load up your cunt. Clear? Good boy.

There is no better feeling in the world that thrusting my eight-inch pecker to the fucking root up a boy’s hole. Especially a boy who was making eyes at me all night in the bar like you were yesterday.

Well I’m gonna cum up your faggot cunt now, boy. But first, I think it’s time to put this cigar out. One last good puff - don’t fucking take your hands off my nipples, boy - and theeeere we go, boy, that cigar stubbed out right on your useless faggot ballsack. Yeah. Scream about it, cunt. Your hole contracts when you scream, boy, and it feels sooooo fucking good on my dick.

Now for Sir’s load. Hold still, here it comes, cunt boy. Take it, slut. Yeah! Good faggot.

Now, fuck off and clean yourself up, slut. Ah - me first. Look at my cock. Covered in your cunt juice and my cream. Lick it clean before you go anywhere. That’s a good cunt. Lick it good and clean, whore. Once you’ve cleaned yourself up, I’ve got five of my buddies coming over this afternoon for some beers and to watch the game. They’ve been told you’re gonna be there as a blow job slave throughout the pre-game, the game itself and the post-match analysis. And you’d better hope our team wins, faggot. Because if we lose, all six of us are gonna take you back into this bedroom and rape you until we break the fucking bed. Obviously bareback, and there won’t be a fucking drop of lube.

Fuck it, hold still. Sir’s working up another load for your faggot throat, boy. Here it comes… here it comes… tug my fucking nipples, pig, I’m gonna FUUUUUCKING shoot - FUCK. Swallow it all, you slut. Gag on it. Show me your empty mouth. Good boy. Ready for Sir’s cigar spit, boy? There. Right in your fucking mouth. Swallow that, and all, pig. Now go and clean yourself up. When you get done, I want you in that living room on all fours with your face on the floor and your back arched. I’m gonna flog your arse for you before everyone gets here, boy. And I wanna hear ‘Thank you, SIR’ loud and clear every time my belt hits your butt cheeks. Slut.

[bignaz8]

Roy W. Allen opened a roadside root beer stand in Lodi, California, in 1919, using a formula that he had purchased from a pharmacist. He soon opened stands in Stockton, as well as five stands in nearby Sacramento - where "tray boys" pioneered drive-in curbside service. In 1920, Allen partnered with Frank Wright, birthing the A&W brand name.

Allen bought Wright out, obtained a trademark, and began selling restaurant franchises - creating one of the first restaurant chains in the United States. Franchise owners could use the A&W name and logo and purchase concentrated root beer syrup from Allen. There was no common menu, architecture, or set of procedures, and some chose to also sell food. By 1933, there were 170 A&W franchises.

Franchises struggled with labor shortages and sugar rationing during World War II, but following the war, GI loans helped, in part, the number of A&W outlets to triple. The proliferation of the automobile and the mobility it offered resulted in more than 450 A&W Root Beer stands operating by 1950. That year, Allen retired and sold the business to Nebraskan Gene Hurtz, who formed the A&W Root Beer Company. The first A&W Root Beer outlet in Canada opened in 1956.

By 1960, the number of A&W restaurants swelled to more than 2,000.

Today, the rights to the A&W brand are owned by Keurig Dr Pepper, which in turn licenses the brand to the U.S.-based A&W Restaurant chain.

[hawthornebush]

Me, writing: The wind whipped into his face like the cold hands of death pinching his cheeks in an act of love, waiting for its time to take him home. He could taste the cold on his lips, and if he concentrated enough, he could taste the lips of his love from so long ago.

*later*

Friend: what does root beer taste like?

Me: I don't know, root beer?

[bokutosmochi]

GET INTO IT YUH ♡ GETO SUGURU

geto suguru x gn!reader

"two orders of root beer float for geto suguru and anon please!"

ingredients? geto knows a thing or two about dance dance revolution and plans to dance dance into your heart

what's it? general

allergen warnings? n/a

sugar level? 0.6k

regulars? @tokyometronetwork @tahonet

parlor's note? this is totally canon. geto and gojo play ddr -- they told me so!

bon appetit!

the lights were so bright and colorful, the music coming from the speaker of the machine so loud making your heart race. you could feel your pulse all the way down to your stomach and fingertips, and you swear that it has nothing to do with the person you're holding hands with.

"you play?" geto asked, tilting his head to gesture towards the dance dance revolution machine and pointing a thumb in its direction. the man was wearing a tight black muscle tee with black baggy cargo pants and a long black leather coat. silver rings of different sizes decorated his knuckles and a belt chain of the same cold material hanging off of his belt. in short, he looked intimidating, but after working with him on various missions and going on this date, you no longer saw him in that light. you saw the sweet, caring, and often times endearingly geeky side to him.

"from time to time," you told him. "i'm not the best at it though."

"ah," he hummed thoughtfully before trying to walk away, but you did not budge as your interest was piqued by his words. you quickly pulled him back to the machine and grinned.

"what about you, suguru?" you kept your voice light, hoping to make it sound inviting. you were already so attracted to the black haired man and nothing excites you more than the thought of suguru engrossed in doing something he loves, something that makes him smile from the bottom of his heart and makes him genuinely happy. that's the reason why you suggested having an arcade date with him in the first place -- he would invite you to play a round of mario kart multiple times a week and you thought that this would be perfect.

"well," he paused, trying to fight the smirk that was about to grace his face. "i'm not bad at it." he lost the fight and smiled a cocky smile at you that already told you everything you wanted to know.

you let go of him smiling and weakly pushed him to the dancemat. "then don't let me stop you."

PARANOiA survivor MAX

290bpm

you had no idea how suguru was able to keep up with the dance, how his legs didn't get all tangled up together from the non-stop steps that the difficult song called for. your eyes and your brain could barely comprehend everything that was going on, the various colors that are flashing on the large screen.

it was a lot to take in; from the different hues beaming and mesmerizing your eyes, geto's face that's showcasing both concentration and immense amount of enjoyment, or the way he danced to the song in perfect rhythm. it was weirdly very attractive. at least to you it was.

perfect!

188x combo

189x combo

190x combo

you always admired geto's footwork during missions. he was impossibly fast on his feet and agile, not letting the curse land a blow on him before ingesting it and now you think you figured out the reason why. it's like his training is a hobby -- something he made enjoyable enough to do everyday, something that didn't feel like training.

he was panting lightly as he stepped away from the dancemat when he was done, leaning a folded arm on the leather-covered steel railing, looking more like someone who jogged for two blocks rather than someone who danced to a 290 bpm song. "so what'd you think?" he asked, a smile on his face that proved how proud he was of himself.

you gave him a look up and down and raised an eyebrow, "are you trying to impress me?"

"that depends," his deep voice trailed off, his head was tilted to the side, his eyes gazing at you affectionately "is it working?"

i get: reblog

you get: geto's skills

[indignantlemur]

Let's talk about Andorian foods!

Without at doubt, one of the most enjoyable things about creating Émigré has been creating Andorian foods. We know so much about Vulcan and Klingon food, but Andorians are horribly overlooked beyond a few basic descriptions of beetles, blue meat, and a kind of flatbread. That's like, a meal. Tops. Even if you include drinks, which are ice-tea, hot coffee, and booze, you're not really moving beyond a single meal's worth of food types. And here's the thing - food is a central point in almost every culture there is. How we prepare food, what we consider food, how we present and share it, when and where and with what utensils - all of that is a huge part of most cultures. We have foods that are only eaten on special days, or only for certain meals. We have foods that have special meanings when given as gifts, and things that are traditional to give as part of social customs around weddings and funerals. We have comfort food, junk food, traditional food, fusion food, I'm-too-tired-to-cook food, and so many more kinds. We have entire branches of culinary expertise dedicated to JUST sweet foods. We have specialists who brew, pickle, and blend. We have random folks who make their own mead, or brew their own beer or wine. We have dozens of different kinds of salt for different kinds of finishing touches, for goodness' sake!

So yeah. I have a problem with the whole Andorians-only-eat-like-four-things-maybe approach. It's lazy. I hate lazy writing. So let's talk about some of my ideas, maybe? If anyone's still reading? (hello?)

Andorians are group-oriented people who put their society and their clans before themselves. Group meals therefore feels like a natural continuation of this trend, things like hotpots and fondues, and those fun little sushi bars where the tasty things go 'round and round on a little belt and you just pick up what you like and try not to fuck it up and fumble some painstakingly assembled sushi in front of the guy who made it.

One of the first ideas I came up with following this logic was the idea of a multi-layer lazy-Susan kind of dining table, with concentric rings that allowed for people to rotate each ring independently to pass around different bowls and plates of food, which a central spot for a pot of hot oil to cook your selections with. The utensils by necessity would have to be long-necked and pronged to spear food effectively and not lose their tasty bounty to the boiling oil. The seating around this table would be low, with cushions on the ground in an inset kind of pit in the floor because my Andorians are big on cuddles and sharing warmth. They're a social species, after all, and their home planet is far from a picnic - sharing is surviving.

Let's move onto other kinds of meals! Some of the canon lore indicates that Andorians eat a kind of flatbread and shredded meat, but very little in the way of dairy. So, from that we can conclude that they have at least some kind of flour. From there we can suppose that if they have a basic type of flour they might also have baking beyond flatbreads, even if they don't go in for fluffy yeast-based breads. That leaves quite a few options, really, but I liked the idea of their flour stemming from a starchy tuber like taro-root, or even potato-like spuds. Fried potato flat-bread sounds pretty great, right?

Now for the meats! Andorians are omnivores with a heavy carnivorous leaning, to my mind, because protein gives us the most bang per buck out of the basic food groups. Meat by itself is a solid food choice, but it gets boring after a while so we, and presumably Andorians as well, come of with different ways to dress it up and make it taste different. Salt would be abundant given the expansive oceans on Andoria and in the lore salty things register as spicy to Andorians, so that's practically a new lease on life food-wise! From there, sauces and marinades are a natural evolution, and I really like the idea that each keth has their own unique recipes that they hoard like gourmet dragons. No one knows what all goes into Clan Tha'an's mustard sauce, but by the Spirits is it good! Still, they can't afford to be too reliant on meat as a food source. Andoria is, as we've discussed, a harsh planet. Hunting for meat is a viable survival strategy, especially in large groups, but hunts fall through or go badly. When that happens, it's imperative that a population has something else to live off of: in this case, tubers! Savoury tubers, sweet tubers, starchy tubers, stringy tubers, every kind of tuber! Tubers are quite a resilient kind of plant and they can grow most places as long as the conditions are mostly right. Deep underground, away from the freezing surface temperatures, tubers would grow quite well - especially near a hotspring!

So, we've got tubers, we've got flour, we've got meat - and you know what, if we've got tubers that means we've got space sweet potatoes. Space sweet potatoes could be refined into a kind of sugar substitute! And that means we have BAKING.

After realizing that, I remembered finding a word in an Andorian-English dictionary which references an endearment and also a sweet treat: shev'tak. Quite a troublesome word, if you've read Émigré!

Humans call each other food-related endearments all the time; honey-bun, sweetie-pie, sugar-boo, dumpling, etc. Why not Andorians too, right? But Andoria is a very harsh planet, and things like sugary treats would be quite unusual, and probably very expensive to grow the base materials for and then refine. Given that their diet is probably heavily meat- and tuber-based, given their biology and the conditions of their homeworld, sugary treats would be a very rare, special-occasion-only thing for the majority of their history. They'd probably end up being made in very small portions, too. When I initially thought about shev'tak, I was tempted to make it some kind of sweet bun, but that seemed a little too boring when I sat down to actually describe them. Eventually, I hit upon the idea of these impossibly delicate little pastries, folded in on themselves and shaped like sixteen-pointed stars (or other multiples of four, which is deeply symbolic in Andorian culture) and filled with a creamy custard. Something plausible and demonstrating the artistry for which Andorians are known, but nothing excessively complicated in terms of ingredients. All the work goes into the presentation, and as a gift shev'tak would be a sign of regard at the least and certainly of affection. It would be the equivalent of a fancy box of chocolates, if each chocolate was hand-made specially for you. In the modern era, much of the craftmanship would be subsidized by advanced machinery and more efficient techniques, much like today on our world, but there would still be a strong association of luxury, of hand-made sweets on a frozen ice planet where very little grows and none of it above ground.

And being called shev'tak, in light of that, may be a little more than just an endearment, I think. It's being called something special, something worth burning time and resources for. Precious, even.

But, of course, Andorians are very stoic. They leave a lot of their social norms unsaid, and trust that these things are simply understood. Even when they aren't.

... Are we having Dagmar/Shral feels yet?

[nerdstreak]

"of course i remember that." For Ford?

588 words - "of course i remember that"

As Ford sat there at his desk, his deep concentration was suddenly broken by a bag of jelly beans being slid into his view next to the journal he poured over. He looked up to see Hannah now next to him, a gentle smile on her face.

“Figured you could use a pick me up. Looks like you’re working hard,” she told him.

He sheepishly smiled back, shy gaze quickly shifting to the tiny baggie, most of the flavor selections seemingly handpicked from his favorite flavors. “Oh, erm… thank you. You remember I like these?”

“Well of course I remember that, I like some of the ones you don’t like!” She pulled out her own curated bag as she sat next to him with her own reading material.

“That’s because ‘Tutti Fruitti’ is an artificial abomination. And popcorn flavor has no business being sweet,” he teased before popping a couple in his mouth as he attempted to turn his attention back to his journal.

“What’s that?” she interrupted playfully, mouth full. “Can’t hear you over the tuttiness of the fruit. Mmm, delicious.”

He laughed quietly, still trying to document the day’s findings as he snacked, sparing occasional glances back at her.

Decades later, after Weirdmageddon, Ford wanted to reconnect with Hannah once more before the young twins’ birthday, figuring if Stan could recover his entire lifetime of memories, he should give her a chance as well, for better or worse.

He found her setting up for the beginning of the school year, her classroom an artistic smorgasbord. She perked up noticing him coming in.

“Ah, hello. Ford, right?” She was usually terrible with putting names to faces when just getting to know someone, but those six fingered hands definitely made a lasting impression, one that made her think that he was more than just a stranger with a familiar face.

“Yes ma’am. Listen, Hannah, I know even in the middle of such an… unprecedented event, you may wonder how I know you. I have my suspicions why you don’t recall us meeting, but for the moment let’s put that aside to…” He paused, noticing her pulling a plastic bag from her groceries: jelly beans. “...Sorry, to, erm, reintroduce ourselves.”

“Alright, I’d like that.” She nodded in understanding, but noticed his eyes flicking to the snacks she kept for herself and for good students. A bit of a childish approach for high schoolers, but it always worked for her even still. “Would you like a snack?” she offered, pouring the contents into the empty jar on her desk.

“If you’re alright with sharing them, yes.” He pulled up a chair next to her desk, as she picked up the jar and sat in her own chair.

She picked out a random handful, sorting through the ones she liked. Sparing a glance at him, a feeling of deja vu came over her, and in a sudden moment of lucidness, she started to pick out specific ones for him too. Cream soda, root beer… Tutti Fruitti? No no, he hates that one. After hand picking a few more, with Ford watching intently, she carefully placed the assortment in his palm, looking back up to his face, utterly bewildered that she did that almost on instinct.

He chuckled lightly, just as surprised himself, but at the same time he was absolutely beaming as he remembered a fond moment. “...Of course you remember that.”

After a few more moments of stunned silence, she finally spoke again. “I think… somehow I do know you.”

[sunshinereddie]

“Jeez, Bill- what on Earth did’ja do to her?”

Bill crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “N-Noth-thing!”

“That’s a big fat lie,” Eddie scoffed. 

Ben gave a hearty laugh from beside Eddie, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seriously, Bill,” he said in agreement with Eddie. “Even I can tell that you busted her up.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Bill insisted, looking down at the broken and beaten-up bike lying on his driveway. Then, so quietly that Eddie almost didn’t catch it, he added, “I let Juh-Georgie give her a spin.” 

At that, Eddie paused his inspection of Silver to turn around and look at his friend. Bill was choosing not to look back at him, nor at Ben, and instead opted for concentrating on the small hole that had formed in the toe of his sneakers. “You let Georgie on your bike?” Eddie asked in disbelief. “Dude, he’s still learning how to ride with training wheels, and you let him on your precious Silver?” 

Bill sighed, but there was a small ghost of a smile on his lips. “You try telling that kid no,” he said fondly. “It’s harder than it seems. Can you fix her or not?”

Eddie rolled up his shirt sleeves and took a seat on the ground beside the bike. “Yeah, yeah, I can fix her, just give me an hour or so. While you’re waiting, why don’t you go and-” 

“Get you a Cherry Coke, I know,” Bill finished, already retreating down his driveway and waving a hand in the air. That had been Bill and Eddie’s method of compensation for as long as they’d known each other, ever since the first time Eddie had laid eyes on Silver back when they were kids, and offered to fix the broken handlebars for him if Bill bought him a Cherry Coke in return. Bill had happily obliged, and he continued bringing his bicycle to his friend whenever something was wrong with her (and there was always at least one thing wrong with her every week) with a Cherry Coke in hand. 

“Get me a root beer, while you’re at it!” Ben called after him, to which Bill rolled his eyes, but gave a smile and a thumbs up as he continued to make his way to the convenience store ten minutes away from his house. 

wip: puppy love chapter 13

[otrtbs]

top five lines from your own fics?

hmmmmm let me think ,,,, this would require me to go back and read what i wrote which i hate but here are some lines that i like and can think of off the top of my head! <3

We’re going for the Warhols, we’re taking back the Banksy’s and Basquiat’s. Art is for the people! (Art Heist, Baby!)

These thoughts seemed to plague him endlessly- they grew roots in his mind, and James could feel them twisting. They burrowed in his brain, seeped through his skull, and began to rot. (Angel of Death)

He collects people’s sad smiles, their sorrowful eyes, and their reassuring touches, and he lets them build up and overflow. He puts them in the pocket of his hollow heart as he feels their weight pull him down. (Art Heist, Baby!)

His fingers grazed over remnants from adventures past. Empty beer cans that he knocked over carelessly with the sound of their aluminum rattles, a various assortment of poker chips clinked together from their time in Vegas, cherry suckers and their empty wrappers, postcards from Yucca Valley and Pioneertown, half a glass of water, numerous IDs and falsified documents, loose bullets, letters from his brother, metal coins, and the motel provided ceramic ashtray greeted his fingertips. ((No) Glory In the West) (so much fun to write this imagery i enjoyed it so it's going on the list)

Evan's hands were rough and calloused. They weren’t tender, and they hadn’t cared for very many things before. He wasn’t sure they were right for this job, but he wanted them to be. So with apt concentration, he continued gently wiping away the smeared blood with all the delicateness he could muster. (Tender Curiosities, Baby!)

[azaan2002]

The Ultimate Keto Meal Plan: A Beginner's Guide to Healthy Eating and Weight Loss

The ketogenic diet, sometimes referred to as the "keto diet," has gained popularity as a means of promoting weight loss, increasing energy, and enhancing general health. Eating a lot of fat, moderate quantities of protein, and very little carbs is part of this diet. The idea is to get your body into a state known as "ketosis," when it burns fat for energy rather than carbohydrates. This article offers a comprehensive overview for anyone wishing to begin the keto diet, along with a simple and efficient meal plan to assist them reach their health objectives.

 What is the Keto Diet?

The keto diet is a high-fat, low-carb diet that has been demonstrated to help with blood sugar regulation, weight loss, and cognitive performance. When you cut back on carbohydrates significantly and replace them with fat, your body goes into a condition of ketosis. Your body becomes extremely adept at burning fat for energy when it is in ketosis. Additionally, it causes the liver to produce ketones from fat, which are a fantastic source of energy for the brain.  

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Here’s a breakdown of the standard keto diet:

- **70-75% Fats**: The keto diet's mainstay is healthy fat. They aid in the ketosis process, provide you energy, and keep you full. - **20–25% Protein**: Maintaining and repairing muscle requires a moderate protein intake. - **5–10% Carbohydrates**: Your body is encouraged to burn fat for energy by consuming less carbohydrates.

Get

 Benefits of the Keto Diet

There are benefits to the keto diet beyond weight loss. It provides a number of health advantages: 1. Weight reduction: Your body must burn fat reserves for energy when you consume fewer carbohydrates, which causes weight reduction. 2. Enhanced Mental Clarity: The brain uses ketones as a potent fuel source, which helps with attention and concentration. 3. Stable Energy Levels: A lot of people report having consistent energy levels all day long without the highs and lows brought on by sugar and carbohydrates. 4. Reduced Appetite: Because high-fat foods are highly satisfying, they may help cut down on overall calorie consumption and appetite. 5. Better Blood Sugar Control: People with type 2 diabetes can benefit from the keto diet's ability to control and stabilize blood sugar levels.

Items to Take and Leave Out of Your Keto Diet Knowing what foods you may and cannot eat on a ketogenic diet is essential for successful ketogenic eating.

 which to avoid.

#### Foods to Eat

- **Meats**: lamb, turkey, pig, chicken, and beef. - **Fat Fish**: Sardines, mackerel, trout, and salmon. - **Eggs**: Whole eggs, ideally free-range or organic. - **Healthy Fats and Oils**: butter, ghee, avocado, coconut, and olive oils. **Nuts and Seeds**: Flaxseeds, chia seeds, walnuts, and almonds. Leafy greens, broccoli, cauliflower, zucchini, bell peppers, and mushrooms are examples of **Low-Carb Vegetables**. - **Cheese**: Goat cheese, mozzarella, brie, cheddar, and more. **Avocados**: Low in carbohydrates and high in good fats. - **Berries**: Blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries (partially).

#### Foods to Avoid

-**Delicious Foods**: Candies, ice creams, cakes, cookies, and sodas. Cereals, bread, rice, and pasta are examples of **Grains and Starches**. Fruits high in carbohydrates include bananas, apples, oranges, and grapes. **Legumes & Beans**: Peas, kidney beans, chickpeas, and lentils. **Root Vegetables**: parsnips, sweet potatoes, carrots, and potatoes. - **Dangerous Fats**: trans fats, processed vegetable oils, and margarine. - **Alcohol**: Sweet wines, beer, and mixed drinks with added sugar. - **Processed Foods**: crackers, chips, and quick cuisine.

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 The Ultimate 7-Day Keto Meal Plan

Here is a comprehensive 7-day keto meal plan that includes breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks to make things easy. These tasty, easy-to-make meals will support your continued ketosis.

#### **Day 1: Monday**

- **breakfast**: Butter-cooked scrambled eggs with feta cheese and spinach. - **Lunch**: A Caesar salad made with grilled chicken, romaine lettuce, avocado, and Caesar dressing. - ** Dinner**: Lemon- and olive oil-dressed baked fish served with a side of asparagus. - **Snack**: An avocado or a handful of macadamia nuts. **Tuesday** is Day 2 - **breakfast**: Almond flour-based keto pancakes garnished with a few fresh berries and sugar-free syrup. - **Lunch**: Grilled shrimp and creamy Alfredo sauce served on zucchini noodles, or "zoodles." - **Dinner**: Stir-fried beef with bell peppers, broccoli, and coconut aminos, a low-carb substitute for soy sauce. - **Snack**: Celery sticks dipped in cream cheese or cheese sticks.

#### **Day 3: Wednesday**

- **breakfast**: Almond milk without sugar, chia seeds, and a few blueberries combined to make a chia seed pudding. - **Lunch**: A bed of lettuce topped with tuna salad, chopped celery, mayonnaise, and boiled eggs. - **Dinner**: Sautéed green beans served over roasted chicken thighs flavored with garlic and rosemary. - **Snack**: A few almonds or walnuts.

#### **Day 4: Thursday**

- **breakfast**: An omelet prepared in olive oil with spinach, cheese, and mushrooms. - **Lunch**: Rice dish made of cauliflower topped with avocado, salsa, sour cream, and ground beef. - **Supper**: Roasted Brussels sprouts and bacon pieces served with pork chops. - **Snack**: A couple salami or pepperoni slices.

#### **Day 5: Friday**

- **Breakfast**: Avocado, spinach, unsweetened almond milk, and a scoop of protein powder combined in a keto smoothie. - **Lunch**: A mixed greens dish with an egg salad dressed with mustard, mayonnaise, and fresh herbs. - **Supper**: Roasted zucchini on the side and lamb chops with garlic butter. - **Snack**: Keto fat bombs or dark chocolate with at least 85% cocoa content.

#### **Day 6: Saturday**

- **breakfast**: Waffles made with coconut flour, butter, and sugar-free syrup. - **Lunch**: Blue cheese dressing, grilled chicken, bacon, avocado, and boiled eggs atop a Cobb salad. - **Supper**: Sautéed shrimp in butter with a side order of mashed cauliflower. **Snack**: Chips made with kale or pork rinds.

#### **Day 7: Sunday**

- **breakfast**: Eggs and baked avocado with bacon bits and cheese on top. - **Lunch**: lettuce wraps with turkey, cheese, avocado, and mustard. - **Dinner**: Bell peppers, mozzarella, and pepperoni are on a cauliflower crust keto pizza. - **Snack**: A couple cheese slices or a handful of nuts.

### Tips for Sticking to Your Keto Meal Plan

1. **Plan Ahead**: The keto diet requires careful meal planning to be successful. To stave against temptation and make sure you have keto-friendly options on hand, prepare your meals in advance. 2. **Remain Hydrated**: Throughout the day, sip lots of water. In addition to being beneficial to general health, being hydrated helps lessen feelings of hunger. 3. **Include Electrolytes**: Make sure your diet has adequate salt, potassium, and magnesium since the ketogenic diet can lead to increased water and electrolyte loss. Think about consuming bone broth or seasoning your food with a little salt. 4. **Track Your Macros**: Record the amount of lipids, proteins, and carbohydrates you consume each day using a food journal or app. This will assist you in adhering to your keto

5. **Be Creative with Recipes**: Try out various keto dishes to add some variety and prevent boredom with your meals. There's no reason the keto diet has to be monotonous or boring.

### Delicious and Easy Keto Recipes

Here are a few simple keto recipes you can try at home:

#### **1. Keto Egg Muffins**

- **Ingredients**: Eggs, cheese, bacon bits, bell peppers, and spinach. - **Directions**: In a bowl, whisk together eggs, cheese, and bacon pieces. After filling a muffin tin, bake for 15 to 20 minutes at 350°F/175°C.

#### **2. Cauliflower Mac and Cheese**

- **Ingredients**: Garlic powder, butter, heavy cream, cheddar cheese, and cauliflower. - **Directions**: Cauliflower should be steamed until soft. Melt butter, heavy cream, and cheese in a another pot and whisk until melted. Drizzle over the cauliflower and bake for ten to fifteen minutes at 375°F (190°C).

#### **3. Keto Chicken Salad**

- **Ingredients**: grilled chicken, cucumber, avocado, lemon juice, olive oil, and seasonings. - **Directions**: Combine diced cucumber and avocado with grilled chicken. Pour in some lemon juice and olive oil. Add pepper and salt for seasoning.

### ConclusionThe keto diet is a lifestyle shift that can assist you in reaching your health and weight loss objectives. It's more than just a diet. You can simply stay on track and take advantage of the many advantages of the keto diet with the correct meal plan, delectable dishes, and careful preparation. Always pay attention to your body, drink enough of water, and keep trying out different recipes. Whether you're new to keto or want to improve your experience, this comprehensive.

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