#pet dishes

[120percents]

i just think it’s so funny that zoro does not even wanna comment on the usokaya situation when usopp explicitly asks and he very pointedly looks away when they kiss and yet he proceeds to butt in every single time sanji flirts with a woman or implies he knows about romance to redirect attention back on himself like god i wonder where your interests lie…

[shirojikimattari]

What was your Tav's reaction when meeting Shadowheart for the first time?

Oh, well I was toying with this idea, it isn’t flesh out and mostly lived in my head as just a floating mist of what if.

But following the shadowtav comic, I imagine they were both abducted in their selûnite rites and just met at the cloister again after a few years. And Tav is in just the butt end of Shadowheart’s looping amnesia 😫

So I guess the reaction would be a cycle of elation, confusion, and acceptance…and also “Jenevelle took my chicken that one time and didn’t return it to me”

[collaredkittyboy]

This man goes "alright I have 15 minutes" and then rides my dick until I roll him over and nut inside him and then he tells me where things are and goes to class

[coridallasmultipass]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BESTEST WIDDLE SNAKEY WAKEY.

I can't believe my son is 18!! I estimated a birth date for him to be about a month before I got him in fall of 2006, since he was such a widdle month-old baby sneky. I always try to get a good birthday pic of him - especially after he eats and gets the good yawns in.

Pretty soon, he'll be off to snake college, for snakes. Dunno how we're gonna afford those ssssnudent loans.

Image description below the cut:

First photo is an albino corn snake (species name: Pantherophis guttatus) peeking out from behind a fake flower on a rocky hide (a house inside the tank where reptiles can feel secure and hidden). The snake is flicking his tongue out. Only his head is visible in the photo. Caption on the photo reads: Demo's 18th birthday. August 9, 2024.

Next photo is the same snake, but in a clear, close-up, detail photo. Each scale is clearly defined. He has red eyes and pink cheeks, and pale white patterns on an off-white body. The scales on his head are shaped to follow the different planes of his face. The scales on his neck (and body, not shown) are uniform and scallop-shaped.

The next three photos are sequential. The same snake appears with his mouth barely open. Then, his mouth is wide open in a yawn. His cheeks look so smooshy. His head is shaped the way a snap hairclip opens, curved upwards, and it's funny and cute. His mouth has ridges inside, but no teeth or fangs are visible (because his teeth are too tiny to be photographed politely, and he does not have any fangs). The last photo in the sequence has the snake with his mouth still open, but the top of his head is a normal shape again as he begins to end the yawn.

[blue-mood-blue]

Danmei Faves Meet Chopped: The Thought Experiment

(with the caveat that I have not read All The Danmei so actually this is “a limited selection of danmei faves” meet chopped) (also as of their official translations, no spoilers pls)

The Contestants:

1) Xie Lian

Pros: There is not one single thing that you could put into a basket that this man would be intimidated by. Not a single thing. He will cook anything that you hand to him, and be delighted to do so. You cannot phase him with unlikely ingredients or conflicting flavor profiles, he has risen above these concerns. He is smiling at everything he pulls out of the basket and probably scaring the other contestants in the process.

Cons: He might kill someone. Not on purpose. He will be out after round one, guaranteed, once the medics standing by in case of cuts intervene for a severe case of “all the judges are now poisoned.” Filming will probably have to stop so ambulances can be called. The crew generously allows him to take his leftovers with him.

2) Wei Wuxian

Pros: He is going to pack so much flavor in every bite! Every single bite! This man knows and embraces spice, and no one will be able to tell him that his meal is bland or underseasoned! Chili oil all over the damn plate!

Cons: The flavor is pain, he’s used every pepper the pantry has, and if he makes it to round two it’s only because of Xie Lian accidentally unleashing the horrors in round one.

3) Mo Ran

Pros: He’s a good cook! He makes a variety of dishes, and he’s gotten used to adjusting recipes for specific preferences. He’s well-traveled so it’s likely he’s encountered many ingredients and had practice in a variety of conditions, which is good experience to have in this competition. He’s been doing his best to be on his best behavior, but heaven help anyone who monopolizes the fryer.

Cons: Again - he’s been on his best behavior, but that’s really for one person who is not currently in the kitchen. He also only really cooks for one person, who has particular tastes.

4) Luo Binghe

Pros: Also a good cook! He, too, has a range of dishes he knows how to prepare, with years of practice going back (probably) as far as his adoption in his early childhood. He is well-traveled as well, with such exciting and… unique locales such as Hell Dimension (aka Endless Abyss) where he probably had to make… questionable culinary choices, so he probably won’t be thrown by whatever’s in the basket.

Cons: There’s a non-zero chance that there’s blood in the food.

(Of this particular line-up, I think it would come down to Mo Ran vs. Binghe for the dessert round, which will be a close call - they both have experience with desserts, I imagine, but I think Mo Ran might have a slight advantage considering Chu Wanning’s sweet tooth. He’s made a lot of sweets and more often. Also, can Binghe lean on a “protagonist halo” when Mo Ran is the protagonist of his own story?)

(Assuming the final round doesn’t devolve into chaos and sabotage, which… is very, very possible.)

The Non-Contestants:

Hua Cheng: Could he do well on chopped? Almost certainly. But why would he? He is here to cheer on gege.

Lan Wangji: Would probably actually do better than Wei Wuxian, if he cooks the meal to Wei Wuxian’s taste - I feel like he would be a little more sparing with the spice. Otherwise, his food is probably too bland for the judges.

Chu Wanning: He has one good dish, and it’s [redacted]. He could last a round but after that he’s probably out. He will do his best. He will not look like he is panicking (he is panicking).

Shen Qingqiu: A millennial who choked to death on bad food and rage. He probably has limited kitchen skills, but beyond the powers of having a microwave? Who knows.

Bonus Round:

Li Yu: He would try so hard. He would put every bit of skill he had on the table. He does not have any skill to put on the table. Do not put a fish in his basket, do not do this to him.

Mu Tianchi: Probably wouldn’t even compete. He’s going to steal Li Yu’s food from the judges. How dare they.

Chang Geng: He could probably do well in the competition, if he could be convinced to compete, but he probably couldn’t. He is smiling very politely at the producer, who is feeling a chill down their spine and backing away slowly.

Gu Yun: Do not let this man in the kitchen, he will cause problems on purpose.

[liesmyth]

by the way. there's no conceivable universe in which the FTL fleet that left Earth in NtN didn't have it incredibly rough.

I've said this before, but it bears reminding: they jumped blind, using untested technology, with NO supply lines back to earth and no concrete plans for a colony. they took ships that were supposed to stack 11 billion people canned in like sardines and nothing else and stocked them full with enough resources to live on for generations and somehow found a settlement, and that was before they had to rush the schedule because John was making noise about transparency and mask their actual launch as a trial run.

it wasn't a comfortable journey. I'd be very, very surprised if the total passenger count was higher than 10k people, for space/resources allocation reasons as well as for secrecy reasons. Every person on board was a mouth to feed, and their descendants, and their descendants. I've seen some people in fandom say stuff like "Of course they'd bring along servants! Rich wouldn't do chores!" and IMO that fundamentally misses the point.

This wasn't the space equivalent of a cruise liner, or the Titanic crossing the Atlantic with first-class quarters and third-class decks. This is the space equivalent of climate refugees crammed in 500 in a tiny fishboat crossing the sea with a non-insignificant chance of dying en route, after emptying their savings to pay for the trip. The fact that the people on board the FTL ships were once insanely rich doesn't mean they travelled in comfort.

This was a desperate last-chance trip, destination "anywhere but here", chances of survival unknown. Their privilege got them on the ships, but the moment they left Earth, that privilege ceased to exist; there was no way to enforce an existing social structure. This is why, again, I think there were no luxuries on board and absolutely definitely no servants - if you're about to willingly enter into complete social collapse, you don't WANT to bring people you regard as less than yourself, knowing that they will be your equals tomorrow.

I'm still convinced that half the fleet at least didn't make it out, and those who managed to found settlements were nearly wiped out multiple times at different points in history.

[bookrat]

Pretty sure my little man has a case of abundism affecting the marble tabby coat under all those white splotches

[elkkiel]

I have made sleep token progress with father! He admits that he likes the music a lot and appreciates why I personally connect with the lore, he's just still hesitant about it because of the cult metaphor/aesthetics.

[honeycombhank]

He’s got a big boy appetite

[doumidas-whumps]

getting to know port (not all that well)

Sonny has recently been reassigned to a new owner. He notices some things about Porter, the other household pet.

this is mostly a scene setter for my BBU-inspired guys (with some whumpy flavoring). my version of the BBU is a little different than the 'standard' but still recognizable. hoping to get more familiar with their personalities as I write more things for them!

content warnings: BBU/box boy/pet whump, abusive pet/master dynamics (par for the course)

~~~~~

From what Sonny had gathered, Porter was a refurb. Not that Port had ever told him— the guy held his cards pretty close to his chest. Sonny hardly knew anything about him, really, even after a month of sleeping on the floor next to him. All he knew for sure was that Port had been in this house with Mr. Oz for a while now. 

“It’ll be two years in October,” is what he said when Sonny asked him, and with way too much enthusiasm. 

Port liked to act like this house was all he had ever known, but sometimes he had this look in his eyes that Sonny had seen before in some of the others in the Barn. That too-intense, wide-eyed, twitchy look like he had been through hell. 

Sonny didn’t know exactly what the refurbishment process involved, and he sure as hell didn’t want to find out, but he was trained alongside a few guys that had come out the other end of it more or less alive. Sometimes W.R.U. sold off refurbs to the Barn, mostly if they thought the refurbs were too damaged to sell but didn’t want to take a complete loss.

It made Sonny wonder what Port had done to deserve that, because he couldn’t imagine him ever disobeying orders. Maybe refurbishment fixed whatever fight he had in him. Sonny shuttered just thinking about it, despite the stuffy heat of the kitchen. 

Mr. Oz had tried cooking god-knows-what earlier that afternoon. Looked like some sort of soup or stew that had boiled over and left a brown sticky mess all over the stovetop. Sonny already knew his master didn’t know how to cook, but this just cemented in his mind that he should try and steer Mr. Oz away from the kitchen at all costs. Best to leave the cooking to him and Port. (Mostly Port, because he was better at it.)

Sonny wasn’t there to witness the incident, but whatever happened, Mr. Oz was all pissed about it and even pulled Sonny away from bathroom cleaning duty to fix his mess, hence why Sonny had been scrubbing the stove with an old toothbrush for the past fifteen minutes.

“If this ain’t cleaned up and dinner ain’t on the table by the time I get back, you really won’t like what happens next,” he’d said, gripping Sonny’s bicep like a vice and wagging his stupid thick finger in his face. Sonny had been on the receiving end of threats like that ever since he got here a month ago, but they still put him on edge every time. He never knew if Mr. Oz would act on them or not. Sometimes he would come back in a better mood and grant him mercy, but other times he would follow through and then some.

Some part of him was still naïve enough to hope that he could avoid being hurt if he did exactly what Mr. Oz asked, but in reality his master was volatile even at the best of times and it usually didn’t matter. It was safer just to assume he would be hurt every time so he could be pleasantly surprised if he wasn’t. At this point, Sonny was pretty sure Mr. Oz liked beating on him just for kicks. Maybe because he was fresh. 

Port as much more hardened, on the other hand. He didn’t tremble or whimper like Sonny did. He would take a punishment silently and would probably even smile and thank him if he was asked to.

Sick with longing for his old master, Sonny rubbed his face with his free hand, wincing as he accidentally pressed on a tender bruise from last night. He tried not to think about his old master too much, through it was hard not to when he was stuck doing shit like this. His old master hardly ever threatened him, and when he did it was at least for good reason. And Sonny certainly never had to clean stovetops back then. Sighing, Sonny lifted one of the burner grates and started scrubbing the blackened crust underneath. 

That was something else he didn’t get about Porter. He didn’t seem to mind their master’s treatment at all. Hell, the way Port acted about him you’d think he was an angel. Sonny thought Mr. Oz really wasn’t much better than the handlers he’d trained under. That was another reason Sonny figured he must’ve belonged to someone else at some point. When Sonny brought it up, though, Port just said, “I don’t remember anything from before I got here,” which Sonny knew was definitely a damn lie because those W.R.U. guys were at least supposed to remember their training, refurbished or not. 

With a small jolt of alarm, Sonny realized they should probably get supper started soon if they both wanted to avoid their master’s wrath. Putting the dirty toothbrush down and tugging at his chafing collar, he moved to the window to see if he could spot Port outside. He had been weeding for a few hours now, his latest gardening project.

Peeking out the window, Sonny could see the top of his ginger head moving around in all the green of the yard. Sonny wasn’t allowed to go outside, so he opened the window and called out. Port’s freckled face popped up from behind the bushes.

“D’you need something?” he asked.

“Mr. Oz wants supper on the table before he gets home.”

Port looked over his shoulder to the sky like the sun would tell him when he would be getting back. “What time is it?”

“’Bout 5:30.” 

Port wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist, which just rubbed more dirt onto his face. “We should be okay, but I’ll head in after I finish this section. He’s not supposed to be home ’til 7, he said.”

Sonny wanted to argue with him, tell him that he should get supper started as soon as possible in case Mr. Oz came back, but tamped down the urge. Porter was usually right about these things.

Even though Sonny had his gripes with him, Port was refreshingly levelheaded. One time, maybe three or four days after Sonny had first arrived to the house, he’d accidentally dropped a bowl while washing the dishes and the damned thing cracked, broke right in two. At that point he was already familiar enough with Mr. Oz’s personality to know what would be in store for him if he found out. With all the stress of the new environment, new rules, and new expectations building for the past few days, the bowl made something break in him. He fell, he shook, he cried, the whole nine yards.

Port had appeared at his side, kneeled beside him, rubbed gentle circles into his back. “It’s okay,” he had said. “We can throw it away out back. Master won’t even notice it’s gone.” Then he’d stood up and offered his hands to Sonny, who took them and let Port help him up. Port even went as far as cleaning up the ceramic himself while Sonny wiped his face with a damp paper towel. Just like he said, Mr. Oz never even noticed the missing bowl.

So Sonny didn’t argue. He just closed the window and returned to the kitchen, where he started to scrub a little more vigorously.

[snakebites-and-ink]

CW: Pet whump, institutionalized slavery, implied past abuse, caretaker is in fact the new master, I’m new at this so if there was a warning I missed please lmk.

It was a normal day, at first. A calm day. Caretaker and Whumpee were in the kitchen. Whumpee was standing casually in the kitchen space and would simply move out of the way if Caretaker had to get to something past them. The pet had come a long way since Caretaker first bought them, when Whumpee would kneel in a corner trying to make themself as small as possible, and not do anything without permission except beg.

Now Whumpee would move around the house freely and take care of their basic needs without permission, and was more-or-less comfortable asking Caretaker for other things they needed or even wanted. Caretaker was proud of them.

Unfortunately, there were still things that could bring Whumpee’s fear out from wherever it still lurked within them.

Not having been paying close attention, Caretaker wasn’t quite sure what caused it: whether Whumpee got distracted, or Caretaker moved in a startling way somehow, or if the glass was just wet and slippery. Whichever it was, the glass of water Whumpee was holding unexpectedly slid from their grasp.

Two sets of eyes widened as the glass crashed to the floor, spraying glittering clear water and glass shards everywhere. Startling, but not a serious thing…to Caretaker.

By the look of things, it was serious to Whumpee. They looked afraid, almost panicked, at how they had messed up. Face pale, Whumpee paused in shock for a single moment before immediately moving to pick up the sharp shards.

“Stop!” Caretaker shouted. Whumpee froze. “Don’t use your bare hands. Use the broom and dustpan, then go over the area with a vacuum to get all the tiny bits that the broom might have missed.” As Caretaker spoke, they leaned over the broken glass with the broom held out so that Whumpee didn’t have to risk cutting their feet to go retrieve it.

Whumpee accepted the broom and started sweeping the shards. They still looked quite afraid, but the instructions seemed to have given them something to focus on and directed them away from blind panic to a more controlled fear. Whumpee was sweeping the glass away from—never towards—where they were standing, and not touching any of it directly.

Satisfied that Whumpee was out of danger and figuring that a second body at risk of getting cut would only complicate things, Caretaker said, “I’m going to the living room. Don’t cut yourself.” Whumpee nodded obediently and Caretaker carefully stepped out of the room.

Whumpee finished cleaning up their mess, trying in vain to ignore the dread that had settled in their stomach. After putting away the vacuum, they went to where their owner had sat down and knelt in front of them.

Caretaker looked up from what they were reading and frowned in concern, noticing how tense the pet was. “What’s up, hon?”

“I finished cleaning. I’m ready for my punishment, Master.”

Whumpee’s heart raced in fear as they wondered what their owner was going to do about this mishap. Caretaker had been lenient with them so far, but they hadn’t broken anything of Caretaker’s before and weren’t sure what the punishment would be. They couldn’t help but think of how their old master would have punished them for a slip-up like this.

“Wasn’t having to clean up the mess sufficient punishment?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee froze. They were trapped. If they said yes, it could be seen as them trying to escape punishment. If they said no, they could be seen as disagreeing with their master. Either one could only make their situation worse. After a few seconds of panicked hesitation, Whumpee gave the safest answer they could: “I wouldn’t know, Master.” Caretaker’s expectant look told them that that answer wasn’t enough, so Whumpee added, “but I’m used to harsher punishments.”

Caretaker’s face did the thing it usually did when Whumpee talked about the time with their previous owner; it softened with compassion for Whumpee, hardened with cold anger towards Whumper, and got kind of sad, all at the same time somehow. “Oh, Whumpee,” they said sympathetically, “you don’t need any punishments like that. Dishes are replaceable, and more importantly, I know it was an accident. If you were to willfully rebel, I would have to be harsh with you, but otherwise I see no reason for your consequences to be anything worse than fixing the problem your mistake caused.”

Whumpee could have sobbed with relief. Not only were they not going to be punished any further for this, but now also they knew such lenience would be a pattern they could rely on for the future. “Thank you, Master,” they said, tension draining out of them.

Caretaker put an arm around Whumpee’s shoulder and drew them closer, and Whumpee leaned into the owner who was so much kinder than anything they’d known before. “You’re welcome, hon, but you don’t need to thank me for something as basic as that. I’ll never treat you like your last owner did. You’re safe here, and I hope one day you’ll understand that as a truth rather than just as a statement,” Caretaker murmured into Whumpee’s ear.

I’m starting to, Whumpee thought.

[yardsards]

there's so many posts floating around that are like "if you stop joking about wanting to kill yourself, you won't think about suicide as much!"

and. in my experience, that's just been dead false.

when i was younger, i would casually joke about my suicidal urges all the time. it made my (often equally depressed) peers laugh along and connect with me, and it made the urges feel less scary, like i could conquer them and laugh.

i stopped joking about suicide as i got older. everyone said it was harmful to do, so i quit. and i think it actually made me feel so much worse. my suicidal ideations are now a dark taboo swirling around deep within me: something that i can't show outside of serious conversations in therapists' offices or to friends preceded with "can i vent about something?". serious conversations that don't really make me feel better and often manage to make the suicidal feelings look even BIGGER and more unmanageable to me.

i wish i could joke about it like i used to, but i can't. i'm more conscientious of others' feelings and reactions to me than i used to be (which is in some ways a good thing, but in some ways leaves me constantly muting and molding myself just to be more palatable to outsiders). so i can't bring myself to risk upsetting anyone with my dark jokes anymore: no matter if it's fellow suicidal people who may be understandably hurt by the subject, or if it's just mentally healthy people clutching their pearls because i dare be mentally ill in public.

and joking about these things is a lot more taboo now that it was just a few years ago as a teenager in the late 2010s. humor was more dark and ironic overall at the time. you could post like, a deep fried jpeg of a shrimp captioned "i want to krill myself!" and there was a general understanding that like, yeah some of the feelings there might be genuine, but it's still a joke and you can join in on laughing. but now something like that would be treated more like a cry for help.

i don't really have a solution to this cuz like, yeah there were people who were negatively impacted by the ubiquity of suicide jokes back then, and it's probably not something we as a culture should bring back overall. but GOD sometimes i miss it.

[contagiousiridescence]

Snake or pearl? 🤔

[red-eft]

overgrown worm with a puppy face

[muffinrecord]

When we're sad, what do we do?

That's right.

Watch tarantula watering videos.