#<- that's for you scuddles

[jonsaremembers]

Fuck Marry Kill:

Jean-Luc Picard 🌌

Jon Snow ❄️

Dan Howell 🐀

You absolute rude bitch.*

Well, let's see. Given the chance, I would fuck Dan Howell. I cannot lie. Sounds like a damn good time tbh. Curls and arms and eyes and laugh and stupid horny attitude all the time. I'm in. Also, no offense to Phil, but I bet I could show Dan a good time he hasn't had in a while.

Okay. So then if I consider the two remaining candidates for marriage, I regret to say I think Jean-Luc Picard wins. Cerebral! Career driven! Genteel, but with an undercurrent of sexuality! Muah. Mon capitaine, indeed.

Which leaves me with killing Jon Snow. I, who have built most of my identity around Kit Harington being my one hall pass, killing Jon Snow in this game! I do not recognize myself. I hope you are pleased. At least he will rise from the dead in a day or two and we can try again.

*affectionate

[tragedylure]

His name is Scuddles. He lives in a hat, loves to eat glass.

[scuddleduck]

Tonight on Scuddles Cooks Dinner: BBQ Chicken Sandwich with fixins!

I didn't cook this so much as assembled it. I put chicken in the slow cooker and shredded it. Half went in the freezer for white chicken chili whenever I feel like making that. I also made a quick coleslaw and opened some baked beans. For some reason I had this craving for corn muffins with blackberry preserves, weird.

Bonus dessert: tiny pecan pie with ice cream

[passthepittcola]

link <- if any of u were wondering. i apologize in advance

ok nevermind found something really stupid to do🫡creating content for pervert society and lesbians everywhere

[moodymisty]

Author's note: Uh. Hi? This was a random rough idea I had a few weeks back.

Relationships: Mortarion/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Tokophobia, Thigh fucking, Light Somnophilia

He's always had trouble sleeping; The concept is foreign to him, and he's able to forgo it in lieu of various more important tasks. Why waste the time.

But as of late he's a bit more apt to it- he blames you for the change.

You turn a bit beside him and groan in your sleep, causing him took down towards you. Your body presses against his front, laying on your right side. Your hair pushes against the pillow, left arm laying over top the blanket. Even with it covering most of your body however, he can still see the swell of your belly pushing against the blanket.

It's been months, and each one was a revelation that once again, this isn't just a dream. You were with child, his child, now round and plump. Your stomach is overfull so far beyond the ability to hide behind clothes, and as of late, your chest as well. Enough that even he has noticed, with or without your complaints of aching.

He's just- the thought of this is unbelievable.

Someone desires him, wants him- wants him in that way- enough to want a family with him. To see his child as a blessing and not a curse. He hates the feeling he gives him, like there's a heavy weight on his chest he can't remove.

But he also feels a fire in his gut. The sight of you hefting around his growing child fills him with a longing that he despises is even there. He already feels a guilt for allowing himself to dare create a family in light of his weaknesses, is it too bold of him to become aroused by it?

He would see you waddling around and his cock would get heavy with blood in moments, and he'd inevitably go to scuddle off to privacy. Or if he's in his armor, just stew until it fades.

Now however he feels the weight of your body against him, the roundness of your bum against his groin. You always slot so perfectly against his chest, but he's slid upwards a bit to use his arm to support himself and can now feel the strain of his cock against your nightdress.

By the Throne it hurts, it throbs enough that he winces, feeling his stomach knot up.

Your nightdress is already wrinkled and twisted, it doesn't take much effort to push it up more and push down the band of his trousers, letting out a pathetic moan as his heated cock slips forth and presses against your bare skin.

He needs more, he needs more, he grips your thigh and feels the way his cock springs between them without guiding, and he places your thigh back down. His hips thrust forward unconsciously- that primal instinct- of which makes you groan and begin returning to consciousness.

"Tari?"

You mumble, mewling a bit when his hips slap into your bare ass. The sound fills the silence of the room, horrifically loud and enough to make Mortarion shirk into his own shoulders if it wasn't for the pitch darkness enveloping you both.

"I, I'll be quick,"

He huffs, feeling his cock slide dryly against your thighs. You let out a breathy little moan, half awake, hips wiggling. He puts a hand on your round belly and holds you against him, keeping you from sliding away.

"Tari, you-"

The whimper you let out is enthralling, and he feels your thighs tense around him. You're so sensitive nowadays, a new development. The mewls and little whimpers you let out make him feel so guilty for perusing his own release so ruthlessly. He feels the heavy weight of your belly against his fingers as they lay between it and the bed, and him remembering that he's the one that made you this way made him let out the most pathetic, defeated groan.

By the Throne, the feeling makes his guts twist like someone reached inside of his stomach and squeezed. Once you give birth, he knows he's going to have to fight the hideously primal feeling of giving you another.

He has to swallow the whimpering moan as he finally cums, the tensing making him begin to cough; It rips through his throat like a blade. He pushes you against him tight and drives his hips hard against your ass, feeling your head loll against his chest.

"Do you..."

He's still cumming, he feels his cock twitch with each spurt that stains the warm blankets of your shared bed while you mumble at him- still sleepy. The guilt weighs on him like the heaviest metal until you finally speak a full sentence.

"Promise to do that again in the morning. When I'm not sleepy."

He does promise, but it's a bit mumbled through to rasp of his ruined and still cough ridden throat-

And completely ignored, because you've already fallen back asleep.

[kyokeiii]

you’re a stranger (and i’m still july). hawks / gn!reader. villain!reader. angst.

keigo lets the wind buoy his wings so he can coast low without putting too much effort into flight. when he skims low over a rooftop, he decides to alight down, running his hands through his tousled hair as his momentum carries him to the edge so he can peer down at the street below. he has the late-night shift today, and the street is cast in a mix of amber-tinted streetlamp light and milky moonbeams from the waxing gibbous hanging low on the horizon. clouds scuddle across the sky, threatening more rain to dampen the already-glistening asphalt.

a flash of movement catches his eye, and his head snaps north just in time to see a shadow slip behind a building. instantly, his wings flare as his guard goes up—it must be, what, three a.m.? whoever’s moving that fast can't be some drunk returning home.

suspicions alighted, keigo spreads his wings again and hops off the roof, letting his feathers carry him over the street before he weaves into the alley where he saw the person disappear. his sharp eyes scan the shadows, and he catches another flash of movement. when he squints and soars closer, he sees that it's definitely a person he’s chasing—and they’re running from his shadow.

“you there! stop!” he orders, and feels a twist of fierce satisfaction as the stranger defies him, speeding up. there’s definitely something up—because even the dumbest villain knows that no one can outrun hawks.

he angles his wings and swoops downward in a sharp, angular dive, feet slamming onto hard ground to block the villain’s path. no sooner are they turning to flee then is he grabbing their arm, twisting it behind their back and pressing them to the ground with one knee.

“this doesn't have to end badly.” his voice is pleasant. “just explain to me what’s going on and why you’re running from the law, and—”

he falters, words cut off, and the ever-talkative no. 2 hero finds himself stunned into silence. because with their face twisted up at him, one cheek pressed against the ground and face contorted in a snarl, he knows this person.

disbelief hammers itself into every bone in his body as he spits out your name.

because it’s you. it’s you. but how can it be? he’s flooded with bittersweet memories of your laugh, the tiny smile you’d flash him as you passed by him in the halls, the way your arms would instinctively creep up to tug him into your chest when he’d climb into your bed at night, shaken awake from nightmares of his father.

you. the first friendly face he had seen after his parents sold him off to the hpsc, the only other child occupant of the echoing, lonely cavern of a facility keigo was trained in. the only person who still called him by his real name. his first and only friend. his first and only love.

now he stares down at you, your body pinned beneath his, and the ground seems to shift beneath him as all his late-night fantasies come flooding back to him, of you both in this exact position, his knees bracketing your hips, gazing down at your pretty face.

but this is wrong. it’s all wrong. you’re staring up at him in mute shock, the hatred and panic of a trapped animal flickering in your familiar eyes. it’s nighttime. keigo is a hero, and you are running from the law.

“how do you know my name?” you snap. you don’t recognize him. of course you don’t. it’s dark, and he’s grown older, the baby-soft roundness of the silhouette that you knew sharpening into wiry angles, the hair longer and the eyes hidden behind a yellow-tinted visor.

“it’s me,” he says, his voice as raw as he’s ever heard it; he didn’t know he could produce such a sound, like the noise of scraping metal on bricks. and then he utters the name he swore to abandon thirteen years ago, the name that only you still called him, the name that died when you did—because aren’t you supposed to be dead? “it’s me—keigo.”

they told him you had died a week after you disappeared. keigo didn’t know where you went. you were both thirteen years old, both of you with distorted families, both tortured by your own individual terrors at night, both prodigies with quirks that caught the focus of the figureheads of the hero commission. at first, wracked with unimaginable grief, keigo had made up a story where you’d been kidnapped and were being held hostage by villains, waiting for him to come save you. he hadn’t realized how dear this last scrap of hope was to his heart until the hpsc executives shattered it.

maybe a part of him, that last shadowed fragment of him that remained still a child, had clung to that story anyways, even after the hpsc decided that two days of mourning was too much and forced him back into training, trying to drive the memory of you from his mind. because now you’re alive, and he can see it all: the bold escape from the evil monsters who had held you captive for a decade, your uneven footfalls tracing the path back to him. of course you would run from him when you saw him; you must have thought it was one of your captors, come to spirit you away again.

he’s here now. his heart nearly cracks from the overwhelming rush of joy. keigo is here, and he’ll keep you safe.

your gaze stays blank for a long moment. keigo feels a jolt of fear, terrified that you still won’t know him, that maybe the trauma of your imprisonment—for now he’s fully devoted himself to the truth of this tale he wildly invented, desperate to cling onto something that makes sense in his unshakeable vision of you as a hero in training—has erased all memory of him from your mind. but then your vision clears, and you breathe his name.

“keigo. oh my god. it really is you.”

keigo’s ready to fling his arms around you, feeling like he could fly straight up through the stratosphere and cartwheel between the stars, so great is his joy. but then that same fear, that mistrust—a faint but steady echo of the hatred he’d seen paint a snarl over your features. and that makes him frown, makes him draw back, but he doesn’t dare release his hold on you, when seconds earlier he could have believed that you’d never hurt a fly.

you look different from before. your hair is longer, wilder. the texture of it has changed from what he remembers; it’s no longer as neat. you’re thinner, too; nowhere near emaciated, but you’ve taken a new shape from the one he committed to memory. there’s dirt smudged over your cheeks, as well as thin scratches—did he do that, from where he slammed you to the ground?

he searches your body for signs to validate his idea that you must have been taken away from him, because you would never choose to leave him, would you?

would you?

you’re wearing loose-fitting black pants and a black t-shirt. rather than being stained or dirtied, showing any of the obvious signs of wear or tear that would befit the labors of what keigo mentally insists someone subjected to what you went through to get free, they’re almost impeccably clean, sleek. they suit you, the new, unfamiliar curves of your figure. 

then the moon creeps out from behind a filmy cloud, and the light catches on a silver glint tucked against your thigh. a knife.

keigo reels back, shaking his head. in his confusion, he lets go of you, and you scramble to your feet, pressing your back against the brick wall of the alley with your hand poised over where he now knows the flash of the blade was strapped against your leg. and this, more than anything—the look in your eyes that is not fear but suspicion, as if convinced that keigo, of all people, cannot be trusted not to hurt you—this is what convinces him that something is wrong. that you are not what he thought you were.

he speaks your name in a gentle, cajoling tone. “what’s going on? why are you…?” he finds himself shifting back, his wings instinctively fluttering half-open in response to your hostile body language. when he gets his voice back, his tone has changed. it’s not soft anymore. “why were you running away?”

he watches closely as your eyes dart from side to side, seeking an escape route. “it’s complicated,” you say.

“complicated,” he echoes flatly, and watches you flinch at his change in cadence.

“a lot has changed.” and just like that, keigo’s last vision of the person he used to love crumbles to ash.

“is that it?” he takes a step closer, and you tense. “that’s all you have to say?”

“what do you want me to say?”

“oh, i don’t know. an explanation for why you were running from the law, maybe?”

“i wasn’t—” you cut yourself off, gritting your teeth. “it’s not like that.”

“then what is it like?” keigo has a faint inkling that he is not handling this professionally. there’s too much venom in his voice, and too much tension in his muscles, as if he’s poised to attack, even though he should be calmly questioning you and taking you into police custody in the worst case scenario. instead, his hackles are up like you’re already convicted. but he can’t help how angry he feels, the churning rage poisoning his senses. your unease is perfectly justified, but it just pisses him off more. for the first time in a very, very long while, he can’t keep up his impeccable control over his emotions.

“like i said, things have changed,” you respond carefully.

keigo takes another step closer. “so you’re a villain now?”

he’s gratified to see you cringe at the word. “don’t call me that word, hero.”

“you say it like it’s a bad thing,” he scoffs.

“it is a bad thing. if you can’t see how corrupt hero society is, then you’re an idiot. things have to change. our goal is—”

“you’re a villain,” he repeats bitterly. “this whole time, i thought you were dead, and you—you turned your back on me. on us.”

oh. that’s why he’s so angry. he can feel the sting creeping up through this throat, infecting every word. he sounds like a little kid again, and he feels like one, too. what have you done to him?

“i’m sorry,” you say softly, holding up your hands. “i wanted to take you with me, but i just—”

“what?” keigo tries to muster his anger back, but it’s sapped out of him as quickly as it came, and he just sounds dejected. “you just what? you didn’t want me around?”

“that’s not it. that’s not it at all.”

“then what?” keigo shouts, his voice breaking through the silence like a gunshot. he clutches his head in his hands, staring at you wide-eyed, all those years of grief and longing resurfacing at once. “you left me behind. you left me.”

“no, kei’.” the old nickname startles him, and his golden eyes snap up to yours. “i wanted to take you. i wanted it so badly. do you know how many times i almost ran away before that, but came back because i couldn’t be without you? every day, i wanted to tell you, i wanted to beg you to come with me. it could have been just us, you and me against the world. you were the only thing precious to me worth taking.”

it nearly brings him to his knees, those words from your mouth. he staggers, then catches himself, his eyes burning. when was the last time he cried? he can’t remember. he never shed a tear as a child, never even had the urge to, through all the abuse he faced, through all the harsh words and punishments of the commission that saw him as nothing more than a dog to be trained, an animal to be kicked when he misbehaved. but now, just a few sentences from you floor him completely.

“you were just so good.” you continue relentlessly, not looking at him, your eyes mirroring every emotion crashing through him like a relentless torrent, even with the rest of your face expressionless. “you were so full of hope. you knew you could change the world, and you wanted to. you trained so hard every day. being a hero was all you’d ever wanted, even when the commission treated you like shit. they’d grind you right into the floor and you just kept getting back up again. just an endless optimist. how could i ever ask you to leave? to turn your back on that?”

tears bubble on his lashes. it’s true, as much as he hates it. as much as he loathes to think that the commission used him, that they would have leeched the marrow from his bones had they thought that it was necessary. he was never worth anything to them beyond his faint spark of potential, and he nurtured that spark for years and years because the second it flickered and died he knew they would have no more need for him. the only person who he ever mattered to was you. and you failed him, but in a way, he failed you, too.

“you could have come back to me.” his voice emerges as an awful croak. “you could have told me before you left. you could have found a way to let me know that you weren’t dead.”

you bow your head. “i know,” you say. “i know. i’m so sorry, kei’.” when you raise your eyes back to his, he sees that you’re crying, too, and for a second time, the earth shifts under his feet.

“will it make you feel better,” you ask, and you step closer to him, “if i tell you how much i missed you? that every day felt pointless without you? that you were the only person i thought of, and that i never…i never dated anyone, or let myself fall in love, because i was already yours?”

keigo’s heart leaps. he hates how that useless organ betrays him, because if he was in his right mind, he would bring you to the hpsc right away. they would wrangle a confession out of you, and the authorities would punish you, somehow, the specifics don’t matter. but instead, he wants to say yes, it makes me feel better, it does, it does.

maybe he isn’t entirely a slave to his heart, because he manages not to speak those words aloud. he closes the distance between you and cups your face in his hands. “no,” he says. “but it’s a start.”

and then he kisses you.

it’s not storybook-perfect: no fireworks, no lightning. it’s urgent, a little awkward; his teeth briefly click against yours before he tilts his head and your lips slot together. and then it becomes achingly sweet, so honeyed his teeth ache, because you’re in his arms again, where you belong, and after a lifetime of imagining it, it’s happening.

is it too much of a cliché? the hero and the villain. japan’s golden boy, a man too fast for his own good, and a shadow whom nobody knows, your real name buried beneath the rubble of the life you had abandoned. destroyed and forgotten by all but him.

it can’t last forever. as much as keigo would like to devote the rest of his life to you, to kiss you in this perfect bubble of solitude until the day he dies, there is a divide between you two: invisible, but impassable. he might be yours, but you can never really belong to each other. not the way he always dreamed of. there will be no wedding, no shared apartment, no romantic dates at his favorite restaurant, no walks hand-in-hand around his neighborhood.

but for right now, he has this. he has you. isn’t it enough?

it isn’t. laughing voices echo from beyond the alley, a couple of teenagers on a late-night escapade, and you break the kiss after what could have been hours or days or milliseconds or decades for all keigo knows, the salt of your tears still tangy on his lips. you draw your thumb across his cheek and murmur, “i have to go.”

“no.” keigo’s voice is too loud, and he catches your wrist in his hand. you both dart glances down the alley simultaneously, toward where the laughter is growing louder. “no,” he repeats in a harsh whisper. “you can’t—you can’t leave me again. please—”

the sound of shattering glass, followed by uproarious chuckles. one of the teens has broken a bottle.

“i won’t leave you,” you tell him solemnly, kissing his nose, his forehead, his cheeks. “i swear. we can meet up somewhere soon, we’ll figure it out. but i have to go now.”

“promise?” he says, like a child, but without any conviction behind it, because he knows by now you don’t keep your promises.

“i promise,” you say all the same, and you ghost one last kiss against the corner of his mouth before you slip into the shadows and disappear—to the untrained eye, at least. keigo’s sharp gaze tracks you far beyond the limits of a normal human’s night vision, until at last the traces of your shadow vanish, and he is left well and truly alone again, even as the drunk high schoolers stumble past.

tags: @catsoupki

[tamaaiba]

🌌 skyofstars  Follow

hiii!!! just a reminder, you shouldnt name your kits skykit or give them a -sky suffix!! me and plenty of other skyclan cats have expressed our discomfort with our clan name being used on other cats :3

🐈‍⬛ whiskers-andpaws  Follow

how about you mind your business??? my great-great-grandma had -sky as a suffix and i dont see anything wrong with it??? who cares

🌌 skyofstars  Follow

you cats didnt even know skyclan existed shut the fuck up you ignorant thunderclan cat

🐈‍⬛ whiskers-andpaws  Follow

HELLO?????? IF IT WERENT FOR THUNDERCLAN YOUR ASS WOULD STILL BE GONE

🌊 willowclawz  Follow

Typical of ThunderClan to act like they’re entitled to everything. All because you got a few prophecies you think you’re better than everyone.

sixfallingsnowflakes-deactivated

lmao rich coming from a fishbreath. whens the last time you were relevant?

🌌 skyofstars  Follow

Hey guys can you stop blowing up my notes

🐞 i-am-a-bug  Follow

Is anyone gonna bring up the fact that we literally have a ShadowClan medicine cat named Shadowsight

🌌 skyofstars  Follow

a shadowclan cat. i dont care if shadowclan names their kits after themselves i just don’t want them using sky

sixfallingsnowflakes-deactivated

“yOU cANT lOOK aT tHE sKY iF yOURE nOT sKYCLAN”

🐇 rabbitz394  Follow

ThunderClan 🫵

🌌 skyofstars  Follow

alright whatever. I deleted the post stop arguing about useless nonsense

🐈‍⬛ whiskers-andpaws  Follow

You started it though, lol

sixfallingsnowflakes-deactivated

shit like this is why skyclan shouldve never left their gorge

🐇 rabbitz394  Follow

HELLO???

🐈‍⬛ whiskers-andpaws  Follow

🎂 I’m sorry my mutual left that note on your post

🌈 dashing-winds  Follow

anyone in this thread eat catnip

🔔 bellmoon  Follow

posts that have 10000 notes to me

morningsun115-deactivated

Hey OP!! I’m sorry everyone’s been so mean to you! I’m from RiverClan and have a SkyClan mate and I was wondering if it’d be okay if we named our kits Riverkit and Skykit to unite our clans together? I understand if not!!!

🌌 skyofstars  Follow

you what

🪷 lilypadz  Follow

@/morningsun115 is Echofrog from RiverClan btw

🐇 rabbitz394  Follow

HELLO????

🐱 throwawayaccount  Follow

hey im on a burner account to protect my identity but @/morningsun115 is literally my mate and im from shadowclan???

🌈 dashing-winds  Follow

IT GOT WORSE

🌌 skyofstars  Follow

😭😭😭 im going insane

🦔 scuddles-away  Follow

hwuh… echofrog is my mate we’re literally both from riverclan what in starclan is going on

wings-of-ash-deactivated

shit is like this why ill never leave this site of no stars

🌌 skyofstars  Follow

well you literally deactivated so

🫧 staring-atthe-sun  Follow

@/wings-of-ash FUCKING DIED

[switchthedragon]

⚠️WACOM SUPPORTS AI ART. PLEASE READ. ⚠️

So I've been using a wacom tablet for over a year now, and I know they're pretty cheap to buy and good quality. But please don't support them anymore. If you have a wacom tablet already that's completely fine, but if it breaks go buy from a different brand.

Look at the tail, the neck, and the fur. There are holes in the fur, fur where there shouldn't be fur, and the tail is just completely detatched.

A Youtuber I watch also pointed out some other details.

I recommend Huion. My brother uses huion and I can say that their products work just as good as, if not better than, wacom. I'll put the link to their site below, feel free to add on any details I might've missed! ^^

Please reblog!!!

Link to Huion's products.

Tagging my mutuals as well so that they see this. (Ignore the tagging)

@russmel @mrfellsans @lazy-shapeshiofter @largefound-the-sequel @sillygoofyqueer @mellybabbles @sunnvydaze @c00kietin @samijami @panda-of-the-trash @big-coyote @ksopaz @oh-look-a-homosexual-punk-boy @oodlesndoodles @scuddle-bubble101 @iamunabletothinkofablogname @flooffydergen @justanidiotartist @lilibanned @bluedovee @alurafiremender @proxdragon @moontherian @westaysilly @swiftmitsu @fateswind0wseat @elizakai @obsidianwolf36 @tuxibirdie @fir3lit3 @thatidiotutartist @italic-doing-random-shit @corruptgrail @wishtale-blogs @thetunashop @bunny-behind-a-keyboard @masked-artist-xp @mochadagoober @safwunnz @nyxus-nyx @nottefierr @zucchiyeni @kuuuuro

[dire-vulture]

ok so decided to look into things closer in regard to the skuttle situation and have found even worse news. neither form is the best spelling!

If you look up skuttle you'll see its an archaic version of scuttle..including the coal chute definition. but upon closer look...

the spelling 'scuttle' is still the original spelling! all the previous forms were spelt with 'sc' as it's from latin. it looks like skuttle was just a misspelling in the 1800s that got common enough to be acceptable at one point. but the etymology still doesnt match the insect meaning. it turns out for that one you have to scroll to etymology 3...

where the original form was actually.. scuddle. with d's. it comes from the old english word scud (meaning 'to move quickly'). it just ended up merged with scuttle because they were pronounced similarly fdgsdfg so skuttle is just wrong in every way!!!! whyyy

and the disney character thing also makes no sense otherwise flight rising would not be able to use 'stitch' or 'beast' or 'arlo' or 'fiona' or whatever else omg

[cottonlemonade]

Pospicles And Samdwiches

(typos are on purpose)

word count: 785 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: single dad!Kuroo x chubby nanny!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: intentional typos when the child talks

synopsis: you meet single dad!Kuroo while nannying for another family

The summer heat was getting to everyone. The kindergarten was closed for the day because the air conditioning broke and they were not about to get sued for melting the children. So you put yourself and the littlest one into some flowy dresses and instead of your usual route down the road to the daycare, you marched to the supermarket. Both of you sighed happily when the cool air hit you as soon as the automatic doors opened and you grabbed a trolley basket to get started. Wanting to entertain the youngest of the family‘s three children you decided to make popsicles today to battle the pressing heat and humidity. You first b-lined for the milk and yogurt and then headed to the freezer section for some fruit.

“Blueberries… blueberries…“, you repeated under your breath as you scanned the display.

“Found them!“, the little girl called excitedly. She had scuddled a few steps ahead and now tried her earnest to open the freezer door with her tiny hands.

“May I be of assistance, madame?“ The little girl looked up to her right and saw a tall man with spiky black hair bow down, offering his assistance like a butler might. He wore a crisp button down with rolled up sleeves and a lanyard stuck in his shirt pocket so as not to bother him.

The little girl nodded and under your supervision the man opened the freezer, careful not to make her stumble backwards. Using both hands she tugged at the bag of frozen berries that was about half her size and with a lot of noises indicating heavy manual labor she lugged the bag into the shopping basket.

“Well done.“, you said, petting her hair, “What do we say?“

The little girl turned to the man and bowed so low that she almost tipped over, saying to her shoes, “Thamk you!“

The man beamed and replied with another princely bow. “My pleasure.“

“We‘re making pospicles!“, she announced unprompted.

The young man rubbed the back of his neck, “Ah, don‘t make me jealous, I haven‘t had a good popsicle in ages.“

“Y/n makes the best pospicles.“, the little one informed him with a superior grin, then after a moment‘s thought added, “And the best mashed potatoes.“ She counted now on her fingers. “And the best egg samdwiches.“

She put her hands to her hips like she‘d seen her mother do many times and nodded determinedly as if that settled the matter.

Meanwhile you were blushing more and more, needlessly holding onto the handle of the basket in front of you with two hands to shield yourself from the growing embarrassment.

"You don't say!", he says with an over the top impressed expression, regarding you with playful admiration and approval. "Am I even worthy to stand in your presence?" You couldn’t help but give a little chuckle at his performance and his smile widens ever so slightly, making his eyes twinkle with mischief.

He knelt down to be on the girl's eye level. "Can I tell you a secret?" The little girl nodded excitedly and leaned forward. He put a hand to her ear and said in a stage whisper "My kid says my omurice kicks butt." The little girl giggled and waddled closer to you to grab at the folds of your dress and hide her face.

“Is your husband around?“, he suddenly asked, still looking with warm eyes at the girl but obviously directing the question to you.

“Hm? Oh no, I‘m just her nanny.“ You‘re very glad that he apparently hadn‘t noticed yet how much you were staring at him and just how red your cheeks probably were. Your knuckles on the basket handle had turned white and you let go, choosing instead to unnecessarily smooth out your dress and making sure it sat just right on your many curves.

“I see.“, he said, nonchalantly and straightened again.

"You should come with us.“, the little girl peaked out from your dress folds with new bravery, “Y/n can make you some pospicle, too! And a egg samdwich."

“Honey, I‘m sure he is busy.“, you muttered urgently and bowed apologetically in his direction.

But he just laughed and looked thoughtfully down at the girl. “I am pretty busy today, yeah. But maybe we can set something up for this weekend? My son‘s around your age, we could meet at the park, if your mom allows it. We can have popsicles there.“

The little girl‘s eyes glowed with anticipation at the thought of having two popsicle days in one week.

“And samdwiches!“

“Oh absolutely! And sandwiches.“, he agreed.

He reached into his pocket and produced a business card, holding it out to you.

Your heart gave a little jolt when he smiled directly at you. "I really hope those come with a side of mashed potatoes."

art: @yucha913 on Twitter

[jonsaremembers]

hi i love your fics so so very much, wondering who are your favorite other phanfic authors? thank you xx

WHAT A WONDERFUL QUESTION THANK YOU FOR ASKING

we have SO MANY good writers in the phandom, no lie, but here are some I return to over and over:

Scuddles

Possum

Clo

Jules

Blossoms

Showvy

Dizzy (and frequent but retired co-author Wavey)

Cal

Renee

Chelle

Lisette

and I'm currently very invested in every new chapter of the following WIPs:

We'll Have to Make It On Our Own by @sleepyslag EDIT: NEW CHAPTER LITERALLY TODAY NO BETTER TIME TO GET STARTED C:

Lying Makes You Go to Hell by @skygremlin

live fast die young go to robot school by @momhowell

your name - trace it twice by @queerofcups (current installment is on hiatus but fortunately there is a prequel you should start with)

happy reading and if you ever want jonsa recs I have those too <3

[cyberrose2001]

some tfa wasp comfort?? please?

maybe he lays on the reader’s lap while they stroke his helm and he starts tearing up because like?? what is this? kindness? and the reader gives him a kithh on the forehead <3

you can ignore if you what/have more important things to do.

TFA Wasp x reader

finally getting stuck into requests again uwu

apologies for taking this long, here’s some comfort for our bug boi

Warnings: None

Word count: 450

(comfort, GN reader, sfw)

You’re a kind person. The type of kindness that lets you stop and smell the roses, to watch your step for the tiny creatures of the earth as they scuddle across your path. It’s in your innate sense of carefulness and compassion for others, especially when that sense leads you to a trembling, albeit larger-than-average, insect in a confined alleyway of the city.

Your primal instincts told you to stay away, to back the hell off. But you couldn’t ignore a nagging thought that this creature wasn’t a creature at all, but one of those Cyber-tron-ians? Though you didn’t care for what it was, all you care to see is that it’s upset. So, you carefully convinced it to follow you back to your apartment, where it’s warmer and softer than the streets.

You’ve learned his name is Wasp, a supposed fugitive from his home planet, on the run from his own kind after being falsely convicted of being a spy. Honestly, the whole thing doesn’t make sense to you. However, you still sat with him on the floor, and you listened.

“So… you can’t go back home?” You questioned, bundled up in a soft woollen blanket.

Wasp cowers in the corner of the lounge beside you, his purple visors downturned pathetically, “Can’t go back… Wasp can’t trust no one.”

“Well, you trust me? Don’t you?” You tilt your head, “Or you wouldn’t be here with me, right?”

The poor creature lifts his head toward you, his bug-like visor softening at your words.

“Wasp… likes you.” He murmurs, “Human makes Wasp comfortable… here…”

You smile, thankful that he feels comfortable with you, but you can’t help but notice the slight tremble in his frame, “You look cold,” You gently toss the other half of the blanket towards him as an invitation, “C’mere honey.”

He tilts his head curiously before slowly crawling towards you, observing you for ulterior motives. But when he lays his helm on your lap and can feel you drape the blanket around him, he can feel himself melt into you.

“There, how’s that?” You bring a gentle hand down to stroke his helm, and with every stroke, you have to suppress a chuckle as he melts into your lap more.

“Feels… nice..” Wasp sighs, closing his optics as he lets you pet him. All the hurt, pain and betrayal he’s endured, he’s never experienced something quite like this.

“Good,” You lean down and softly kiss his helm. You don’t see it, but Wasp couldn’t help the blush rise to his face, “You can stay here as long as you need. I’ll be here.”

As much as Wasp wants to go home, he could get used to this.

[doggocake]

dunno if you like prinxiety but you should draw that one clip from iq where virgils like "im looking at the fucker who ruined my life" and its a mirror but roman just goes "im in the mirror too"

Now i know you asked me to draw it, but come on, dis still counts right... RIGHT!? ;w; I took a little bit of creative liberty on some parts, But i hope you enjoy it either way ;w; O and also, yes I do enjoy prinxiety ^^

*scuddles away*

[scuddleduck]

Tonight on Scuddles Cooks Dinner: Rice Paper Rolls with Peanut Sriracha* Dip'n'Pip by @danispookie from the Phookbook!

*I am a spice baby and did not use sriracha

Not pictured: rice vinegar, pickled onions. I did use them I just forgot for the staging photo.

Dipping sauce- mine had a weird texture that I'm positive was my fault. I warmed up the peanut butter for 20 seconds and it didn't melt so much as ?honeycombed??? like seized chocolate. No amount of hot water saved it. I also forgot to buy maple syrup and used honey and bc I don't do spice I did 5 dashes of Louisiana hot sauce and called it a day. It tasted good, I just had to spread it on the roll before each bite because it was not dippable.

tl,dr: I fucked it up

I have never used rice paper before and it took a few pieces for me to get the hang of it. I filled mine with shrimp, rice noodles, cilantro, egg, carrot, cucumber, and pickled red onion. They tasted great! I had a bit of a texture issue, which is 100% on me. As the rolls dried they got sticky and because I'm A Lady, I'm not going to tell you that it reminded me of a soft dick covered in dried lube, but, y'know.

Enjoyed with a cucumber salad and extra-limey lime lacroix.

Bonus dessert: banana bread with walnuts.

I don't bake, I'm not good at it, but this recipe is so easy I should have submitted it for the phookbook. 1 box spice cake mix, 2 tbsp melted butter, 2 eggs, 3 mushy bananas. Mash bananas until applesauce texture, add eggs and butter, stir, add cake mix (and nuts or choc chips or whatever else you like). Bake in a 9x5 loaf pan for 50 min at 350f.

I like this because cake mix is $1.50 and includes all the flour, sugar, leavener, and spices I'll need and I can just dump it in. You can also use chocolate cake for chocolate banana bread or swap out bananas for a 15oz can of pumpkin puree for pumpkin bread.

[thecluelessdoctor]

crazy if I just *drops this and scuddles away*

@tbob-enthusiast thought you might wanna uhhh see this 👉👈

Their like. 12 and 7 here. I think.

[switchthedragon]

fuck, guys

If KOSA gets passed I’m gonna delete my account

That’s it. My parents can NOT see the stuff I post. They don’t know I’m a therian. They don’t know I have 2 partners. They don’t know I’m talking to people online.

I’m scared. I just got my phone restrictions taken off just for the entire country to get restrictions on the internet. This could fucking ruin my life.

Please stop KOSA. Listen to people’s warning about it, it’s dangerous and a lot of people could lose a lot due to it.

If the bill passes, I’ll be saying goodbye to you all on the 26th.

Tagging my mutuals to let them know.

@rushin-safire @psychocchain @mrfellsans @russmel @lazy-shapeshiofter @largefound-the-sequel @sillygoofyqueer @mellybabbles @sunnvydaze @c00kietin @samijami @panda-of-the-trash @big-coyote @ksopaz @oh-look-a-homosexual-punk-boy @oodlesndoodles @scuddle-bubble101 @iamunabletothinkofablogname @flooffydergen @justanidiotartist @liliallowed @alurafiremender @proxdragon @moontherian @swiftmitsu @fateswind0wseat @elizakai @tuxibirdie @fir3lit3 @thatidiotutartist @italic-doing-random-shit @corruptgrail @wishtale-blogs @thetunashop @bunny-behind-a-keyboard @zucchichat @masked-artist-xp @mochadagoober @safwunnz @nyxus-nyx @nottefierr