#1/2 socket organizers

[toolboxwidgetau]

What Are the Benefits of Using a 1/2 Inch Socket Organizer in Your Workshop?

A productive and effective workspace is mostly dependent on a well-organized workshop. A 1/2 inch socket organizer is one of the many tools and accessories that is essential to keeping things organized and productive. In this post, we'll go over the many advantages of adding a 1/2 socket organizer to your workspace and show you how it may improve your productivity and general work environment.

Efficient Tool Location

The primary benefit of using a 1/2 inch socket organizer is the ease with which you can locate and access your sockets. With each socket having its designated spot, you eliminate the need to rummage through a cluttered toolbox, saving you valuable time during your projects.

2. Prevents Misplacements

One of the most frustrating situations in a workshop is misplacing a tool. A 1/2 inch socket organizer drastically reduces the chances of losing or misplacing a socket. By providing a designated space for each tool, you create a systematic and reliable storage solution.

3. Enhanced Safety

A well-organized workspace is a safer workspace. With a 1/2 inch socket organizer, you reduce the risk of accidentally cutting or injuring yourself while searching for a socket. This is particularly important in environments where safety is paramount.

4. Preservation of Tools

Sockets, especially those of high quality, can be a significant investment. A socket organizer prevents them from knocking against each other, which can lead to chipping or deformation. This means your sockets stay in better condition for a longer period.

5. Improved Workflow

Imagine the time saved when you don't have to stop and search for the right socket. A 1/2 inch socket organizer streamlines your workflow, allowing you to focus on the task at hand. This increased efficiency translates to more projects completed in less time.

6. Customizable Organization

Many 1/2 inch socket organizers are designed with flexibility in mind. They often come with adjustable slots, allowing you to customize the arrangement based on your specific set of sockets. This adaptability ensures that each tool has its designated place.

7. Space Optimization

Workshops often have limited space, and every inch counts. A 1/2 inch socket organizer helps optimize your workspace by efficiently storing your sockets, allowing you to make the most of your available area.

8. Professional Appearance

A well-organized workshop not only enhances efficiency but also presents a more professional image. When clients or colleagues visit your workspace, they'll be impressed by the level of organization and attention to detail.

9. Minimizes Frustration

Fumbling through a disorganized toolbox can be a source of frustration and stress. A 1/2 inch socket organizer eliminates this hassle, providing a clear and orderly system for accessing your tools.

Conclusion

Incorporating a 1/2 socket organizer into your workshop is a simple yet highly effective way to enhance your productivity, efficiency, and overall work experience. The benefits range from time saved and improved safety to the preservation of your valuable tools. Whether you're a DIY enthusiast or a professional tradesperson, a well-organized workspace is the foundation for successful projects. Invest in a quality 1/2 inch socket organizer and experience the difference it can make in your workshop today. Say goodbye to the chaos and hello to a more productive and enjoyable work environment!

[thesocketlocker]

Best magnetic socket holder

A magnetic socket holder is an essential tool for any mechanic or DIY enthusiast. It is designed to keep sockets organized and easily accessible, while also preventing them from getting lost or misplaced. The holder has a powerful magnet that securely holds the sockets in place, making it easy to select the right size for the job at hand.

[hayatheauthor]

10 Lethal Injuries to Add Pain to Your Writing

Prev: Non-Lethal Injury Ideas

Need some creative ways to give your characters a real fight for survival? Here are 10 ideas: 

1. Punctured Artery

A puncture to major arteries like the femoral artery (thigh), the carotid artery (neck), or radial artery (arm) can cause rapid blood loss. It starts off with a sharp pain, weakness, lightheadedness and eventually can lead to hypovolemic shock. Requires urgent medical attention.

2. Punctured Eye Socket

A punctured eye socket will cause blood vessel damage leading to internal bleeding. I would use this for non-combat characters trying to get away. The eyes are an easy weak spot + you don’t need much strength to cause a critical injury/puncture. Also good for a protag's tragic backstory.

3. Torn Achilles Tendon

A torn Achilles tendon can result in severe bleeding if nearby arteries or veins are damaged. Your character will be forced to hobble away as pain causes their foot to swell and bruise. Plus, you can easily adjust the pain levels per your scene, from swift cuts to explosive jumps. 

4. Neck Hyperextension (Hangman’s Fracture)

This injury will fracture the C2 vertebra and can lead to spinal cord damage, paralysis or sudden death. This isn’t a light injury your character can come back from, so I would suggest using it only when you��re aiming for death.

5. Pierced Lung

A punctured lung will lead to a pneumothorax where air escapes into the chest cavity, collapsing the lung. Characters with this injury may have difficulty breathing, chest pain, and a cough that produces frothy blood (all the dramatics you need). 

6. Severe Concussion

A severe concussion will lead to confusion, vomiting, immobility and memory loss. More dangerously, brain swelling, internal bleeding and damaged brain tissue. Plus, it has a long recovery period. 

7. Shattered Pelvis

If you need something severe that restricts mobility but also causes severe pain then this is perfect! Involves signs of shock, internal bleeding, numbness, swelling—really a lot of things. Can occur if OC falls from a high place, hit repeatedly, car accident, etc.  

8. Internal Bleeding from Blunt Force Trauma

I like using this when you need something subtle since it doesn't show immediate symptoms. Over time, they will feel weak, cold, nauseous, and intense pain. Perfect if you want that 'everyone made it out then suddenly someone collapses' moment. 

9. Intestinal Perforation

A sharp blow or penetrating wound can cause a tear in the intestines, leaking bacteria into the body cavity, then peritonitis. It can go from small stomach pain to near death pretty quickly. Without prompt medical care, sepsis can set in, causing organ failure and death.

10. Cut to the Jugular

If you need something more visibly dramatic then go with the classic cut to the jugular. A warm rush of blood will pour out, and blood would spurt with every heartbeat. Causes panic, choking, and internal bleeding too. All the blood and gore you need. 

This is a quick, brief list of ideas to provide writers inspiration. Since it is a shorter blog, I have not covered the injuries in detail. Remember the worse the injury the more likely your character is to die (so be realistic folks). Happy writing! :)

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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[marclef]

a special gift for you guys, for this very important Fake Peppino Friday.... after a week of near-continuous work, i present to you the biggest mess i've posted so far to tumblr:

The Fake Peppino Headcanon/Biology/Anatomy/Whatever the heck this is Post

really just a bunch of headcanons, ideas, and other stuff i've complied together for Fake Peppino, illustrated to the best of my ability. i hope you enjoy! ✨✨✨

(caution: lots of text and assorted Frogs up ahead)

now.... who's ready for walls of text and drawings?

Fake Peppino is a homunculus, made in the shape of Peppino by Pizzahead. He's much taller than the real Peppino, 8 feet tall compared to Peppino's 5 1/2 feet. He was created using the DNA from Peppino (either skin or hair cells), old pizza, and frogs (think Jurassic Park). His entire body, including the hat and "clothes", is comprised of a strange goop, with no flesh organs or bones, though certain areas are made out of specialized goo, meant for an intended purpose.

He can stretch his body to inhuman lengths, though he usually only does this with his legs, mouth, tongue, and arms. His goopy body is extremely strong, able to withstand tearing and most puncture wounds. Attacks from knives or similar weapons are pointless, as it doesn't really harm him, and will likely just lead to him absorbing the knife into himself and retaliating. However, repeated attacks, especially physical blows, can tire him out, and explosives can harm him, splitting his body into pieces if particularly strong. This doesn't kill him, though, since he can reform his body.

If threatened, or trying to get into a tight spot, Fake Peppino can deform his body into a blob-like mass, allowing him to flee, squeeze into small areas, or melt into the floors/walls. He usually keeps his eyes and brain intact, to see his surroundings and act accordingly. The rest of his body, despite deforming and becoming mushy, can still function, meaning he could still eat in this form if he wanted to. He finds tights spaces comfortable, and can often be found squeezed into unlikely places, such as small containers, trash cans, and cabinets.

If greatly threatened, though, or sufficiently angered, Fake Peppino can pool all of the energy into his body into growing larger, by rapidly burning energy into making more goop/cells. This is very tiring, generally only used as a last resort. The process generally makes his head and body much larger, with his limbs, as well as eyes/brain, staying mostly the same size. He is dumber in this state, with all energy and thought going into eliminating the target, something that Fake Peppino doesn't like. He avoids lashing out like this unless he absolutely needs to.

Despite his frog DNA, Fake Peppino doesn't do well with water or other similar liquids. Thanks to his sturdy stomach walls, he can drink most liquids just fine, even fluids that would be dangerous to humans. It's his outside "skin" that's the problem, since it can't absorb liquid properly. Prolonged contact with water or other liquid will quickly cause him to deform, unable to keep his humanoid form, until he's sufficiently dried off/absorbed the liquid properly. He greatly dislikes being wet because of this, and will go to great lengths to avoid it. Warmer liquids are slightly more tolerable, being much more comfortable, so warm, bubbly baths are welcome.

The brain and eyes are connected directly, with the brain protected by Fake's squishy head, and the eyes popping out the widened eye sockets. The brain is made of very specialized goop, and works very similarly to a human brain, sending signals to all parts of Fake Peppino's body.

However, despite it being the central control center of his body, smaller bits of brain cell goop are distributed through the rest of his body, allowing him to control other parts separately. So, even if parts of him are detached or otherwise removed, he can still control them, for a time. After some time, these parts die off though, losing control and deforming into inert goop. He mainly uses this ability to split "clones" off of himself, controlling them to attack perceived threats.

Being made of goop, Fake's brain can withstand damage a normal brain can't, but he still prefers to keep it protected underneath his head. It dries out a bit in the open, too, which he finds uncomfortable.

Fake Peppino's eyes are very strong. Though he's often seen with a cross-eyed look to him, he's constantly watching his surroundings, even if it doesn't seem it. He has excellent night vision, often using this ability to easily stalk and sneak up on prey in the dark without being spotted.

He doesn't need to blink, but he still closes his eyes to sleep, when he's very happy, or during certain actions, such as swallowing. His eyes are one of the most vulnerable parts of his body, though, and attacking them would be a way to easily disorient him.

Fake Peppino's sense of smell is also impressive, being able to smell things long before he sees them. He uses this ability to easily find food, prey, or simply something he wants. The mustache under his nose (which, same as his "hair", is also made of goop) is sensitive, and he doesn't like others touching it.

Fake Peppino often sniffs things he's interested in, including strangers, to try to get a sense for them. He never forgets a particular smell, which makes it easy to tell if a familiar person is nearby. He often sniffs others while holding them or being given attention, likely as a form of interaction. Plus, he just thinks most others smell nice.

Despite, like the rest of him, being made of goop, Fake Peppino's teeth can harden to be extremely tough. They soften if he needs them to, such as when he deforms. His bite force is very, very strong, comparable to a hippo's bite. He doesn't chew his food too often, though, and only really chews up food he finds particularly tasty, such as pizza. His frog-like instinct usually compels him to swallow most foods whole. His teeth are more often used to grip things, such as prey items, or to carry things around. He enjoys carrying things he likes around, and will carry smaller friends around gently with his mouth.

The stretchiest part of Fake Peppino's body is his tongue, which can stretch to several times his body length. It is very sticky, coated with a clear, saliva-like goop that fills the inside of his mouth as well. Like a frog, he uses it to grab onto and eat food from afar, or to grab items he doesn't feel like using his arms to. It's very strong, and can drag even very heavy objects. The tongue's extreme flexibility allows him to reach it nearly anywhere, even down his own throat if he really wanted.

Usually, Fake Peppino uses his tongue to snatch fleeing prey items, and he can wrap it around their body to make them easier to eat. He often leaves his tongue dangling slightly out of his mouth, due to its length, but also making it easy to strike with if needed.

Fake Peppino's "stomach" is a very special case. It functions like both an organic stomach, and similarly to a lung as well, constantly moving by pushing air in and out of himself. He can use this to inflate his body, making himself bigger for intimidation (like some frogs do), or to shrink himself down by releasing all air from himself; this is generally used if a prey item is being uncooperative, to cause them to suffocate. To help keep live prey in place as well, he's able to close off his throat with a mass of goop, preventing escape.

The constant movement of the stomach makes digesting meals easier, allowing them to be coated by a specialized goop that absorbs and dissolves what it covers, like stomach acids. Fake Peppino's stomach can digest almost everything, aside from very tough materials, such as most metals, very solid plastics, tough minerals (like rocks), and bones. Anything he can't digest, he simply spits up eventually, generally in a place it can be disposed of, such as the trash.

His stomach is very sturdy and stretchy, able to withstand almost anything, and can stretch as much as needed to fit what's inside. As such, there's not much of a limit to how much Fake Peppino can eat. Eating too much makes him sluggish, though, as his body tries to process it all. Fake Peppino is most content with a reasonably-full stomach, and is generally quite calm and relaxed after a large meal. Belly rubs at this point are greatly appreciated.

If needed to, he can reach his arms back into his own throat, to grab something from inside of his stomach. He doesn't do it often, due to most things he eats being digestible, making carrying stuff around in there fairly pointless. This is only ever really the case if it's something too difficult to spit up, or something that wasn't supposed to be eaten in the first place.

There is no further digestive system, however; all food eaten is 100% absorbed in the stomach. Everything he eats is converted into more goop like him, leaving no trace behind, unless it is undigestible. Bones from eaten prey such as rats get thrown out, or disposed of in an appropriate spot.

and... though I didn't get to drawing them, here's a couple extra unsorted headcanons/dumb little tidbits I just felt like sharing!

He makes lots of strange sounds, communicating more through groans and frog-like croaks than trying to speak. He CAN talk, but not well, mostly in broken, short sentences, and usually speaks "backwards". He can understand others just fine, though he struggles with especially long and complicated words. The sounds he makes when not talking are generally unintelligable, but his mood and tone can indicate how he feels. He uses the ability to inflate his body to produce very loud, aggressive sounds when trying to ward off threats.

His gooey body is what allows him to cling to walls and ceilings with ease. He sticks to walls while trying to stalk prey, or just to play around with friends. Though, in some cases, he'll cling against the walls or ceiling if frightened, finding them a safe vantage point. If you're in the dark and feel something creeping its way towards you, it's likely Fake Peppino, silently stalking you from the walls.

Despite his inhuman traits, Fake Peppino generally doesn't like the idea of eating humans. He still sees himself as somewhat human from his time spent believing he was the real Peppino. Attacking or eating things he doesn't see as prey is kept as a last resort, or if he's extremely angered. As of now in my canon/AU, there is only one person Fake Peppino has killed in this way. He didn't like the taste.

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 18

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss — thank you so so much for your patience and kindness and support, I really hope you enjoy! ^^ 💝💖💗

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

He should leave

He should get the fuck out of your room so that he can actually think straight and figure out what to do

But he just can’t

You look so peaceful in his embrace, so sweet and innocent

He can’t bring himself to just abandon you

His thoughts are racing a mile a minute as he tries to figure things out

He’s not the most knowledgeable about demon marks and what they mean, but he knows enough to understand that they’re serious

His first order of business, he realizes, should be research

If there’s any way to undo them, or at least minimize the effects, he should give it a shot

And the sooner he does it, the higher chance he has to fix this

Which brings him all the way back to square one; he should leave

He looks down at you

Your eyes are closed, brows relaxed, lips parted just the slightest bit as you breathe in slow, long breaths

He can practically feel the blood running through your veins, hear the way it pumps to your organs by the steady rhythm of your heart

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump

He swallows thickly, his mouth watering at the temptation of your flesh

He’s fucking salivating

He has to leave—now

But right as he shifts beneath you, you murmur something in your sleep and he freezes in place

He woke you up

He woke you up and now you’re going to see the mark and you’re going to loathe him for doing this to you

He flinches, bracing himself for the worst possible outcome

But all you do is nuzzle deeper into him, still half-asleep, and relief like no other washes over him

He can’t leave, he realizes

He should be there when you discover the mark

Even if it scares him—even if it absolutely terrifies him—he shouldn’t avoid this

He’s the one who created this mess; he has to be the one who deals with it too

He buries his face into your hair and breathes in deeply

Your scent is as soothing as always

He’ll figure it out, everything’s going to be ok

As long as he has you, everything’s going to be alright

It takes a short while, but eventually, you slowly start stirring awake

You mumble his name, pressing your face into the crook of his neck to avoid the glare of the sunlight, and he hums in response

Don’t think about the mark, don’t panic, don’t make it obvious something’s wrong

Part of him wants to outright blurt it out, but another part of him, a more dominant part of him, wants to savour every second he can before admitting to it

And it’s wrong

And he knows it’s wrong to withhold this kind of information from you, but fuck, how can he resist the temptation of your ignorance for just a moment longer?

You stretch your stiff limbs out, eyelashes tickling his jawline as you blink away the sleep clouding your mind

You hum peacefully, as if waking up next to him is nothing short of blissful, and that knot of guilt tightens in his stomach

Reaching up from under the comforter, your fingertips trace over Jack’s chest, moving all the way up his collarbone to his neck, and finally, over his Adam’s apple

He has to resist the urge to swallow down his heartache out of fear you might somehow feel it

But even then, even despite everything, your touch is so gentle, so soft

He can’t remember the last time anyone treated him with so much warmth, so much kindness

His eyelids instinctively flutter close over the messy black tar dripping from his sockets

And as he does, it’s like he can almost trick himself into believing things are different

He can almost pretend you’re both human, and you’re waking up in your shared bedroom in the apartment you both picked out together

He can act like it’s a quiet Saturday morning, and it’s a sunny day outside, and the birds are chirping and neither of you have anything planned

You’re both free to relax, to spend as much time in bed as the both of you want, and any minute now, he’s going to get up to make you breakfast while you prepare the coffee

“Come shower with me”

He’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice, still gravelly and laced with sleep

When he reopens his eyes, he finds you smiling, still evidently sleepy, and the sight makes his heart flutter in his chest

“Mmh,” he makes a noise of agreement in his throat, and your smile grows

How’re you so effortlessly gorgeous?

You sit up, lazily stretching your arms over your head, and the motion causes the sheets to fall from your form, exposing the entirety of your naked back to him

He’s at a loss for words

The way your skin stretches over your curves, the way the morning light dances over your body—you look ethereal

He wants to reach out, wants to touch every inch of your skin—he wants to worship you

But then you roll your neck out to ease the stiffness in your muscles, and in doing so, it reveals that deep blemish on your skin once more

It’s all it takes for his perfect moments to fall apart, crumbling like ashes in the breeze

Fuck

What the fuck kind of mess did he get the both of you into?

Completely oblivious to his dilemma, to the pained mix of emotions blooming in his chest, you turn to him with that gentle smile on your face

“You coming?”

He can’t keep his hands off you in the shower

It’s hot and steamy, and the space is just small enough to give him an excuse to press up so wonderfully close to you

Warm water glides off your body, outlining every dip and curve of your form, and he finds himself tracing over it, almost absent-minded, like he’s under a spell

You’ve bewitched him

You stand on the tip of your toes, and he almost thinks you’re about to kiss him, but all you do is reach behind him for the soap, and he has to hide his disappointment

“Let me help you,” you murmur

He nods, and then you’re lathering up his skin and touching him all over

You start at his chest, fingers dancing over both his pecs and in the valley of his hard muscles

You follow an invisible path over both his shoulders, feeling the broad expanse of them at the same time, and then move all the way down to his biceps

He wonders what’s going through your mind

All he can think about is, again, how no one else has ever been so loving with his body—especially not after his transformation

He wonders if, despite your kindness, some part of you wishes his skin was a normal human colour, or a normal human firmness

He wonders if you would’ve maybe agreed to officially date him if he wasn’t what he is

You move down to his forearms, then trace all the way back up his shoulders and down his chest until the whole top portion of his body’s clean

You seem to inhale sharply as you continue down to his torso

Down his stomach, your fingertips smooth over the ridges of his muscles before reaching his V-line

There’s no hiding it any longer, no hiding his desire for you

He’s worried it’ll put you off, but then he smells your arousal even through the soap’s perfume, and he realizes it’s mutual

Either way, you still don’t make any moves to initiate anything, so neither does he

He simply lets you clean him, lets you touch his body to your heart’s content until you’re reaching down to his calves and the next thing he knows, you’re kneeling before him and his dick is inches from your face

You bite your lip, glancing up at him, and that look in your eyes has him twitching right in front of you

You don’t have to do this, he wants to say, he appreciates it and everything but it’s really not necessary

But then you lean up and press a kiss to his tip and god, he wants to throat-fuck you so fucking badly

Your lips are perfectly soft as you kiss him again, and then you part your mouth open to stick your tongue out and lap at the precum dribbling from his slit

“Fuck, (y/n)”

He groans out a gravelly curse, throwing his head back as his hips jut forward in search of more

When you roll your tongue over his tip, lavishing the most sensitive part of his cock with attention, he has to grind his teeth together to prevent a snarl from rippling out

He snaps a hand out to tangle into your hair because he needs something to stabilize himself

And at the same time, it provides the perfect opportunity to drag you forwards, pressing you closer up against his cock so you’ve almost no choice but to swallow him down

You whimper around him, and feeling you do so drives him wild

He tries to let you suck him off at your own pace, he really does

But he just can’t resist impatiently pushing and pulling at your hair, all while his hips instinctively jerk forward, trying to cram more of himself down your throat, trying to feel more of you around him

And he feels bad for making you gag around him, but at the same time, fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing ever

He growls your name, bringing his other hand up to your hair, and when you look up at him, your eyes all watery and pleading, he slowly but surely feels his grasp on his self-control slipping

How can he resist face-fucking such a pretty little thing like you?

You almost seem to want it as much as he does, too

Squeezing your eyes shut with your brows furrowing in concentration, you slacken your jaw and stick your tongue out, creating just the perfect entrance for him to fuck however he pleases

Your lips stretch out around his thick cock, your cute little muffled whimpers making him pulse on your tongue with every thrust

He should be ashamed of the way he’s using you—but you just feel so fucking good

Watching you struggle to choke down his length is almost just as satisfying as the way your throat keeps tightening around him

Combined with the way your arousal’s filling the air—it’s bliss

He snarls something indistinct, thrusting hard and fast enough to make his balls slap against your chin every time he reaches the very back of your throat

And the combination of it all has his stomach tightening, but it’s just not enough to cum

No—he wants to save that to breed you

A few more seconds of enjoyment is all he allows himself before he pulls you off of him

He’s panting, chest heaving as he takes a moment to recover from the euphoria of your mouth

His cock is aching for more

“C’mere,” he says, and there’s that demonic lilt to his voice he can’t always control as he helps you back up again, “s’my turn to clean you”

Even though it’s hard to focus, even though all he can think about is bending you over and screwing your pretty little brains out, he tries his best to be as caring and considerate as you’d been with him

He lathers you up with soap, using it as an excuse to touch you even more, to massage every inch of your body

His hands savour the curves of your sides, from your chest to your waist, down to your hips and thighs, and then all the way back up to your chest again

He doesn’t fail to notice the way your breath hitches when his touch grazes over your tits—of course he doesn’t, he never doesn’t notice—so he allows himself the indulgence of squeezing them

They fit wonderfully in his palms, even as he grabs and toys with them at his leisure

You arch your back up, trying to push more of your chest into his hands, and if he wasn’t so turned on right now, he might chuckle at how needy you’re being

He tugs and pinches at your nipples, and when you make a breathy little whimper, it has him throbbing

“So good, little one, you’re doing so fucking good for me”

He’s so fucking horny

He drags his fingers along the inner flesh of your thighs, teasing at your sensitive skin

“You want it, little morsel, you want this?”

It’s not like he doesn’t know the answer, it’s not like he can’t tell how desperate you are when you nudge your legs further apart for him

But he wants to hear you say it

“Y-yes, Jack—please. Please, I want you~”

A slave to your every whim and desire as always, he pushes his fingers between your folds, and the both of you groan in unison as he stretches you out

He can just imagine you clenching around his cock instead of his digits

When he curls his finger just the right way, a moan bubbles from your parted lips and you stumble in place, like you almost can’t handle just how good he feels

With his free hand, he lifts your leg up, hooking it around his hip and pressing your back to the shower wall

You’ve nowhere to squirm, nowhere to escape

All you can do is take it

In and out, he pumps his fingers into your velvety walls until your thighs are shaking and your mewls are getting louder than the sound of the water hitting the tiles

Your shaky hands reach out to dig crescents into his skin, and the pain mixing in with his insatiable lust is such a wonderfully heady combination

When you moan his name again, he realizes he can’t wait any longer

He pulls his fingers out, lifts you up and presses your back to the shower wall so you're completely trapped against his muscular build

And then he aligns himself to your entrance, his thick tip catching at the edges of your entrance before finally, finally, he sinks all the way in

It's heaven

The way you suck him in, the way your walls flutter around him—you're divine

You shift in his hold, like you're trying to accommodate to the sheer size of him, and it has the plush flesh of your ass grinding right against his balls

He tries to hold back a moan, but part of it escapes him in a gravelly rumble, and you seem to tense around him when it does

With you clinging onto him like this, he doesn't even need to move his hips to fuck himself into you

All he does is lift you up and lower you back down, using your own weight as momentum, and the simple motion already has you whimpering and gushing around his cock

"Fuck, morsel~"

You're making his head spin

He's dizzy, already drunk off your sex

Up and down, up and down, he uses you like a toy, barely flinching from your weight even despite how much you keep squirming

The way you keep jutting your hips against him—like you're either trying to help or just too fucking horny to stay still—is so fucking adorable

Saliva filling his mouth at the temptation of it all—at the temptation of you and those little sounds you keep making and the smell of your arousal and god, just everything that makes you so infuriatingly irresistible—he presses his head into the crook of your neck, trying to hide the fact that he's very much so on the verge of drooling over you

But then he sees it again—sees that mark he left on your skin with his teeth, claiming you as his mate, and even though he should be fucking disgusted that he gave it to you without your consent, it instead has the opposite effect and it makes him snap

His

You're his—it's physically undeniable

It's like the realization really sinks in during the heat of the moment, now that he's too sex-drunk and shameless to care, and something about his instincts and his possessiveness just completely takes over

Animalistically fast and deliciously hard, he fucks into you like an animal in heat

With every thrust, he slams you down onto his cock and jerks his hips up into you, making the flesh of your thighs jiggle from the rush of actions as the smacking of his pelvis against yours fills the room

He's not entirely sure if he's hitting your cervix or your g-spot, too dazed in his fervor to care, but he knows he must be hitting something good because you're screaming for him

And it doesn't take long for your muscles to seize and your body to start shaking uncontrollably, and it's hard to tell because of all the water from the shower, but you're either squirting all over him or just getting really, really messy all of a sudden

His cock pulses and twitches between clenching walls, and you're squeezing him so hard it's almost painful but fuck if the pain doesn't feel good

Your body is so small and so delicate compared to his, but he can't bring himself to have the restraint he normally has

He's done controlling himself—he wants to wreck you

It all gets a bit blurry like it normally does when he loses himself to his instincts

The next thing he knows, he has you bent over the bathroom sink in front of the mirror, and the both of you are still dripping from the shower, which is still running in the background, but he couldn't care less

All he cares about is breeding you

He's never felt such a powerful urge to do so like this before

Your shaky hands claw helplessly at the ceramic of the sink, as if that could help you get a grip, but it's no use because he won't stop until he's ruined you

When he looks at your reflection, he finds that your eyes have rolled back and your mouth is parted in a mix of silent screams, broken gasps and dumb babbles of his cock splitting you in half, but that's not what he wants

He wants you to look at him when he pumps the entirety of his load inside you

Which is why, with one hand bruising your thigh to force you in place, force you still for him fuck you open, the other reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your gaze up

"Look at me, little whore—look at me when I fill you up, when I breed that perfect cunt and make you all mine"

It's like he doesn't have control of his actions or his words because even he barely recognizes that demonic snarl lacing his tone

It almost sounds like he’s threatening you

"Beg, my little bitch, beg for your mate's cum"

It's hard to distinguish any coherent words in your desperate babbling, and even in the unfocused reflection of your eyes, he can tell you're overstimulated, overwhelmed, struggling to accept every inch of his cock brutally pounding into your walls

But watching you struggle to obey him and feeling you struggle around him like writhing prey turns him on so fucking badly

He wants to give it all to you—you deserve to take it all

Which is why, with one final resounding thrust, he sheathes himself all the way inside you, sealing his hips into yours so that his cock is as deep as it'll go

You're on the very tip of your toes, the whole weight of your body supported almost solely by his pelvis in order to dig his cock into you

And with an inhuman sound, he finally cums

It feels good

It feels so, so good; better than any other orgasm he's ever experienced

It's like his whole body is alive, thrumming with a rush of adrenaline as ecstasy floods his veins

His body lurches forwards, jaw flexing shut as he somehow manages to resist sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade

And your little whimpers and gasps are just as fucking cute as ever

His orgasm is long and hard, and even after his high has reached its peak, he stays sheathed inside you

He's thoroughly wrecked your body; he can tell by how limp you've gone, letting yourself be held up only by him and the counter and nothing else

And he realizes he should pull out, give you a moment to rest and offer any and all aftercare you might need

But he doesn't want his cum to spill out of you

He wants to stay connected to you for as long as possible

And after all, why shouldn't he?

You're his mate

[hoy35]

Fairy ring 1/?

part 2: here

part 3: here

part 4: coming

fanart comic for Cult of the Lamb

Okay I actually have to do a little explaining prior to the comic...

Several assumptions based on the game content, which are related to the storyline:

Menticide Mushrooms and birch trees are actually not the creation of Heket. Instead, they are something that derrive from the Great Ones. Heket was asked to suppress such presence before meeting her demise. The tattoo-like red eyes we see on her eldrich form are a kind of "fungus infection". If you could accept it as a setting, then proceed. If you need further evidence, please click on this article.

The reason why the Bishops cannot heal their wounds is that Narinder, the God of Death, killed these parts of them with his godpower. Then Chemach came in and snared these organs and turned them into relics. And instead of the Bishops telling the lamb to "go fetch my organs", the lamb actually had to do Chemach's evil biddings to get them back. This will be explained in part 2(or3).

Leshy was not blind at the first strike. With everyting being in a blurr and mess, only two of his eyes were torn from the socket. (This is linked to the number of eyes in Chemach's relic) Then his vision slowly deteriorates, because there's a kind of disease called "sympathetic ophthalmia"(SO). SO happens when one eyeball of a person is injured, and the good eye would be attacked by our immune system. Eventually, rendering the person blind. This is what happened to Leshy.

If you are okay with such settings, please proceed to the actual content:

[japanologydiaries]

Even More Japanese Vocabulary (✿ฺ◡ฺ‿ฺ◡ฺ)

1 . 侮辱 (ぶじょく): insult, offend, affront

2. 解散 (かいさん): dissolution (of a company, organization, etc.), disbandment

3. 順調 (じゅんちょう): going all right, in order, going smoothly

4. 評判 (ひょうばん): reputation, notoriety

5. 液体 (えきたい): liquid

6. 修理 (しゅうり): repair, mending, fixing

7. 試行錯誤 (しこうさくご): trial and error

8. 忠告 (ちゅうこく): advice, warning

9. 競技 (きょうぎ): competition, game, match, contest

10. 混雑 (こんざつ): congestion, crowding, jam (like a traffic jam)

11. 株価 (かぶか): stock price, share price

12. 文房具 (ぶんぼうぐ): stationery

13. コンセント: electrical outlet, wall socket

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Platonic Stobin Mind-Reading AU Part 1

Steve doesn’t notice anything is wrong at first beyond the obvious. His ears are ringing, his eye’s so swollen it feels like it’s going to pop from its socket, and his lungs don’t seem to expand fully before the pain in his ribs makes them shrivel back into themselves. 

The injection site pulses, like the viscous blue liquid is still squirming its way into his brain, writhing around its synapses to force his tongue to wrap around words that only hold the truth. It doesn’t make sense. But neither do demogorgons or demodogs or the way thoughts have been leaking out of his ears since Hargrove bashed his skull in with a kitchen plate.

He doesn’t feel truthful. If he was truthful, he’d be telling Robin about the blood slowly pooling into his sock, or how he’s pretty sure she’s the best thing that’s happened to him since Dustin Henderson showed up uninvited at his house and derailed his life. Instead, he listens to Robin come up with more and more outlandish ways that this drug will kill them. It’ll erode their brains until there’s nothing left. Their organs will explode. They’ll have to keep talking until they slowly dehydrate and die. Steve hums along, thoughts trailing along too slow to keep up with her. 

The mystery drug isn’t helping. He’s got that same giddy feeling he remembers from Friday night blunt rotations in crowded backyards, surrounded by his usual brigade of assholes. The likelihood of overdose or dismemberment ia much higher than they usually are when he feels the way, but hey, the company is better.

The overhead lights are trailing along in his vision, his cheekbone is throbbing with every invigorating heartbeat, and Robin’s head is shaking with laughter where it’s resting firmly against his own. 

Then they’re being interrogated and even as Steve talks, a little voice in the back of his head is screaming at him to shut up. He doesn’t, can’t think past the drugs and his exploding eye, and the way he’s pretty sure if Robin moves her head away from his own he’ll explode.

Then noises and screaming and Dustin fucking Henderson.

They’re running.

They’re in the back of a cart.

They’re in an elevator.

Steve experiences each in little snapshots of coherency between laughing with Robin, and holding Robin’s hand, and–he can’t seem to think past Robin. It’s like Nancy all over again but more. Concentrated. The way he can only seem to think right now when it’s in tandem with her. 

Then movies and popcorn.

Then water and a lightshow.

Then the bathroom. His thoughts are coming faster now, almost completely formed before they flit out his ears. And Robin is there. He still can’t think past her, and this is what love is like, isn’t it? The way he feels right when he’s sitting next to her. 

But even as he’s confessing he can feel a little worm squirming through his stomach, uneasy with his words as they settle between them. And as Robin drops her secret between them like a gauntlet, Steve feels the squirming feeling ramp up into gut-churning fear. He doesn’t know why he’s afraid, or how he can almost feel himself glaring at the back of his own head in Mrs. Click’s class sophomore year, or the way he can perfectly remember how Tammy Thompson’s hair curled in the diluted sunlight of the classroom when before this moment he didn’t even remember her name. 

It doesn’t matter, when He’s got Robin across from him, curling in on herself more with every second he doesn’t react.

The feeling ebbs into something softer as they make fun of a singing voice he can only barely remember. Something slides into place in the moment, like the weight of her skull on the back of his head while they’re tied back to back. Like the wisps of her hair tickling the side of his face. Like legs pressed together in a bathroom stall.

Then, Dustin fucking Henderson, and everything goes a little too fast after that. They survive by the barest threads of their little sailor suits. Billy dies. Hopper dies. 

Steve goes home.

Part 2

[breyito]

Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part One: Severance

For @painlandweek Day 1: Language of Love: Acts of service (because killing a b*tch and plunging into obscurity to rescue your other half counts); and Sickfic (because Charles is not having a good time, poor boy).

You can read it here on AO3:

Part 2 Part 3 Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin PayneUnhinged Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Violence, Torture, Hurt Charles Rowland (DCU), Sickfic, love language: acts of service, painlandweek, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

“Crystal, you've seen him without me. You have never seen me without him.”

When Charles is taken by a powerful and mysterious entity, already hurt from protecting Edwin; Edwin loses his mind. He will stop at nothing to get his partner, the love of his life, back.

It's not like it's the first time he's had to do it. (He honestly thought that at least the European supernatural community had learnt their lesson about taking Charles away from him. It seems like a reminder is due.)

Part One: Severance

As soon as Charles was dragged through the glass’ surface with a cutoff scream and every mirror in the room shattered, Edwin felt his non-existent heart stop. Not again, not again, he thought, as he shifted throughout the shards for any kind of response to his magic. Nothing. Completely inert.

Ignoring Crystal’s sputtering questions, he ran outside the church to check the surrounding grounds. The day had already been gloomy, and now the dim grey light gave a sinister feeling to the whole place. The graveyard in which the old church was located did not help matters. 

He checked every metre of the place, hoping, hoping, hoping that Charles had just been transported somewhere near. (His brain tried to tell him that, logically, Charles could only have gone to another mirror or reflective surface, and all the mirrors inside the building were broken and there was no body of water on the property. For once, Edwin ignored his brain with all his might). 

He even cleaned the decades of filth from windows on the outside, because maybe then they’d be reflective enough that Charles could come back. But everything was useless, he was gone. He was gone, he was gone, Charles was gONE.

Ghosts didn’t have hearts that beat nor did their lungs need air, but Edwin kept taking more and more air in and he still couldn’t breathe. He was choking. He tugged desperately at his bowtie, finally opening it along with his shirt. His hands came away wet from his neck, and that’s when he realised that he was crying.

That last loss of control pushed him over the edge and he crashed to his knees on the leaf covered dirt. He pressed his muddied palms to his eye sockets and pressed until he saw colours burst behind his eyelids. 

He needed to think. He had to use his brain. He had to come up with something. He was so useless, so stupid. Why couldn’t he fucking think?

Edwin began hitting his forehead with his hands, because his brain wasn’t working and he needed the panic to stop so he could think. Thud-thud-thud. Sob. Thudthudthudthudthudthud. Stupid, stupid, stupid-!

“Edwin! Edwin, stop!” That was Crystal. She was kneeling next to him, trying to tug his hands away from his face. 

“H-he’s gone.” Edwin cried. He began grabbing and tugging at his hair, then digging his nails on the skin, leaving streaks of dirt to mix with the tears and drops of blood. “Charles’ gone, Crystal. I ca-can’t find him. I’ve looked everywhere!” 

He curled into a little shivering ball, face between his knees and arms around his head, as he rocked back and forth. Still, Crystal could hear his heartbreaking sobs and had to sniff not to burst out crying too. 

“Hey.” she said. Edwin didn’t seem to notice. “Hey!” She yelled, grabbing his shoulders and making him look at her. “Stop. He’s not gone-gone, alright? We can still find him. He’s counting on us.” Those green eyes kept spilling tears, but at least she could hear him taking in more air than before. “Breathe with me, Ed, okay? C’mon.” 

A few minutes later, Edwin was still shaking, but seemed more in control. He was trying to wipe off the dirt on his hands, at least, and his hair was slowly returning to its regular state. Finally, he took one last big breath in. 

“Right.” he said, as he smoothed down his coat. “That’s enough of that.”

In a blink, the boy in front of her was back in his immaculate uniform. Crystal didn’t know why, but she felt a shiver go down her spine as she looked at him. The only difference from his usual spotless image is Charles’ bag-of-tricks, which he had retrieved from inside the decrepit church. He had a death grip on it, so she knew he wouldn't accept her carrying it. 

“We need to get back to the office, right? To figure out who took him?” she said more than asked, as they began walking towards the gates of the cemetery. 

“Yes, that is indeed the first step.”

���Do you wanna go ahead and I’ll meet you there?” Crystal didn’t particularly feel like riding the bus on her own back to the city, even more so when the skies were beginning to darken; but she figured she had to offer, at least.

“That won’t be necessary.” he answered, retrieving a pair of glasses from his coat pocket. 

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

“Charles would never forgive me if something happened to you because I was careless of your safety. We can begin the investigation with my notes and some of the books inside Charles’ bag.” He cleaned the lenses of the spectacles, and put them on, “I’ll join you as a passenger, since it’s safer to travel in numbers at night.” ended the elegant lady in the dark blue pantsuit. Not a minute too soon, as the turn at the end of the road led directly to the bus stop, and there were people already boarding their vehicle. 

“I thought there was the possibility of losing an arm to the bag?” she questioned, suspicious, as she paid for their tickets.

“As you can imagine, there’s an infinite number of levels. It’s true that Charles is the only one that can (mostly) navigate all of them safely; but I’ve had to learn too, for instances such as these. He usually leaves my books on Levels Three or Four, since I can reach those without much strain in an emergency, if he’s…not around.”

They choose to sit on the back, as to spread the books in the seats between them.  

“Let’s get you started with Reflection Manipulation for the Souls” Crystal nodded as she accepted the book. “It might be useful to shed light on what creature could affect the mirrors and glasses in such a way.” 

“And you?” she asked.

“I’ll search for a location spell. They don’t ordinarily work on ghosts, as we don’t have an actual physical presence.” As his hands began leafing through the book, she caught a glint of gold on his wrist. It felt familiar. Charles’ necklace. “It’s only a remote possibility, but I’d like to focus on that until we are safely back in the office.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you found his necklace!?” at the looks her loud tone of voice got, she got close enough to whisper. “I could have read that!”

“I doubt you could get anything substantial out of it, Crystal.”

“Why not?” she said back, before touching the metal and tapping into her powers.

She went still as her eyes clouded over. Edwin cursed under his breath as he waited for her. He smiled nervously at the man gawking at them, probably at ‘her’ vocabulary. (He rather thought this was one instance in which he could curse as much as he wanted and not feel any shame, in fact.)

“Fuck.” Crystal gave a full body shiver as she came back. “All I could feel was…cold. Wet, cold, dark…there was no end to it.” she murmured, tearing up a bit. “Do you think��?” Edwin cleared his throat.

“Let’s hope your reading was about his death and not his current predicament. He hates being cold.”

Both of them swallowed, thinking about the cheerful boy they loved plunged into an icy darkness by unfeeling hands. Without saying another word, they returned to their respective books, noting down anything that seemed useful. (Edwin didn’t even lecture Crystal for marking down the pages of the book. But then again, that edition wasn’t as old and therefore as delicate. Or so the ghost told himself, when he noticed and ignored it.)

—-- —-- —-- 

Many hours later, with dawn already about to rise, Edwin finally found what he needed. Crystal had fallen asleep a few hours ago, after compiling a list of possible beings that could have done such strong magic. To their dismay, witches had been at the top of the list, of course. Bloody witches. While Crystal cursed herself (and the universe) to sleep, the boy ghost kept going. 

After revising every note he had taken for their latest case, and all the spells available to him; he’d reached the point where he had to admit he was not able to trace Charles. Even those incantations that should have worked didn’t. He felt he was at his wit's end.

So he took advantage of the relative solitude to look over their most obscure volumes. Those he and Charles had decided the living girl didn’t need to know about unless it was necessary, for the danger they represented. (Those texts resided inside a designated shelf, and were protected by powerful enchantments. Crystal knew not to touch them, but not much else.)

Danger was meaningless to Edwin now, though, without Charles by his side. 

As he surveyed the contents, he felt in his core this magic was going to work for him. He may not be able to locate Charles, not even with this new magic…

But he could trace their latest ‘client’, the one that had led them to the old church, fought them and then vanished. 

This man had a lot to answer for. And he would.

—-- —-- —-- 

Half a world (or just half a city, Charles certainly would not know) away, the other boy ghost broke the surface of freezing water, gasping. He dragged himself to the rocky shore, teeth clashing. The bloody witch’s magic had taken almost every single layer he had had on, leaving him only in his sodden jeans. 

Never, not even while being attacked and then dying, had he felt more vulnerable. Nor as cold. He had to give her props, tho. He had frozen to death, and she had managed to beat that.

As he tried to prepare himself for another few hours in her dungeon, where he would be able to clothe himself and warm up only to be plunged back into the cold darkness, he wondered…

Was this what Edwin had felt, once he accepted the never ending cycle of his torture? This helplessness?

(Deep inside, he knew the answer was not. Because Edwin had escaped Hell on his own, with no one on his corner. He was the strongest person Charles knew. So he had to be strong now and not give up, because he knew Edwin and Crystal were out there, looking for him. He had no doubt.

(But it was so hard. So hard).)

[dots-in-my-head]

ART TRADE FOR THE DEAR @monigote001 !!

It’s Alex/alice!! :3 working on the calem painting! (The missing eye is a ref to monti’s goretober drawing where Alice pulls out an eye lol)

TW ORGANS (INTESTINES) , BONES (RIBS), EYE SOCKET, BLOOD, RAW MEAT (PLEASE TAKE THIS TRIGGER WARNING SERIOUSLY, DRAWING THIS GAVE ME GOOSEBUMPS EVEN AS 1. THE LITERAL ARTIST, 2. A GORE LOVER) (its not many to b spooky btw the gore is part of the lore <3) raw meat makes my skin prickle so drawing the meat was… uhh… not too fun. The organs was fun to do though

[ratwithhands]

1 - Diantha security detail comic

2 + 3 - Emmet's UDF uniform vs Kalosian Guard uniform

4 - Lore/Background comic

Hooo boy ok so this idea has been simmering on the backburner for a while now. So Legends Z-A had its trailer released a few days back and I figured I'd make something around it. I know logically it's going to be a game set in the past but I found myself wanting to work on something more futuristic/sci-fi which is why we have our little Cyber Emmet here.

There's a lot of different things to mention so I'm just gonna break them down by the images.

1:

Diantha is attending a conference/ceremony where she will be discussing the plans for the urbanization of Kalos with the assistance of neighbouring tech giant and long time trade partner Unova. As a sign of goodwill, the Unovan Defense Force sent several people to either work as security or to help organize and prepare the ceremony. Among the list of people is Emmet, who was recently "working with" the UDF, and who is going to serve as Diantha's bodyguard for the event

Emmet's uniform was made by a mix of Unovan and Kalosian designers. It's meant to mimic the shapes while still keeping aspects of his Unovan uniform (mainly the collar, cuffs, and silver trim). He is carrying a handgun from his UDF uniform, however due to the public nature of the event, he is using his charge pistol instead of his wired pistol. He's also using a different face shield, using a silver one as opposed to his black one, since it better matches the uniform he's wearing for the event

Diantha's fur coat still has the angel wing shape. This isn't lore relevant I just couldn't fit the full thing onto the panel but it's definitely there

2 + 3:

Emmet uses a wired pistol (left side holster) and a charge pistol (right side holster). Both are standard issue firearms used by the UDF, however charge pistols are more common thanks to them being easy to hold and carry. A wired pistol connects to a battery pack of some kind to fire at a greater speed, whereas a charge pistol will generate its own power but take longer to fire and load. Emmet's wired pistol connects to the battery network that powers his body, allowing him to take advantage of his fast reflexes by using his faster weapon

Emmet doesn't get anything to wear for his Unovan uniform! Part of the contract he signed for his cybernetics states that he can't cover the prostheses unless it could lead to a breach in confidentiality (such as going to a foreign region or appearing in public outside of work reasons) since he's meant to effectively advertise the quality and construction of the body built for him. Of course he refuses to go outside completely naked to fight so the UDF got him a cropped version of his coat and shoes so he can have some more cover

The face shield is meant more for form than function. Technically the only purpose they serve is to cover his face when he's out on patrol, though it can also act as a screen to show him information about what he's seeing (kind of like an AR headset). He could technically get the screen function though cornea implants but he's not doing that + he wants the anonymity provided by the shield

Sections of the body can split open or be removed. The front abdominal panel can do both due to the different processing mechanisms inside needing easy access for repair/maintenance. Limbs can be swapped for different prostheses provided they have a compatible socket

The sockets in Emmet's back can be used to power other weapons/devices if he has a compatible cable. Emmet was given a bag of different attachments and cables to hook into his back so he can power a range of things from phones to laser rifles

He has removable skin. Any shot of him with the black body is the body without skin. In situations where he could possibly have skin showing or he is required to wear something that shows more skin, he'll have material rolled over the sections of his body that will be visible so they look more normal

4:

Emmet got run over by a train ♥ long story short is that he went to rescue a passenger who had fallen off the platform and miscalculated how much time he had before the train pulled in. Once he got stabilized in the hospital afterwards, he only has around 30% of his original body intact, along with some sections they were able to somewhat repair but required new hardware being installed in order to return their function. Anything under the waist and a large portion of his arms were crushed beyond repair and as such, he's been connected to different machine to mimic the functions of his organs

The UDF (in a rather scummy play) contacted Emmet for business, asking him to sign a contract that would ensure he would live by letting them test their confidential new tech on him. He is the only ethical candidate they have for testing such prostheses so to get him to agree, they offer to cover the cost of everything relating to his health and work, as well as paying him a salary for the trouble. Since the only other options are "die slowly" or "lose all self sufficiency and go bankrupt living in hospital", he agrees, and so begins his second job as a living experiment and tool for the UDF

I think that's the most I've written for one post yikes. This isn't even everything but I'll cut it here because my hands are not pleased with me typing.

I still have a lot to think about for this concept, mostly what kind of work Emmet will do while overseas in Kalos and whether something dangerous enough will happen to warrant him using his body for what it was made for. That might be funny, only two settings and they're "I love macarons :)" and bloodshed.

Anyways hope you guys enjoyed this dump, feel free to ask on anything (it helps me write too ^^). See you later and have a nice day!

[toolboxwidgetau]

Investing in the best 1/2 socket organizers will enhance your tool storage, save you time, and improve overall efficiency. Choose the organizer that best suits your needs and enjoy a clutter-free workspace with easy access to your sockets.

[triglycercule]

may 10th. guess what day it is???

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KILLER SANS!!!!!

(my 1/3 pookie snookums baby fav squishy idiot) (he gets to go skydiving with his favorite buddies) (more under cut :3)

what happened after:

dust: oh... my... god.

horror: did i lose my eye? oh god, did it fall out?

killer: it's in your other socket.

horror: oh, it is? damn... hold on.

dust: ... i think that my soul left my body... i think i know what papyrus experiences everyday as a ghost now.

killer: oh, stop being so dramatic, dust. it's not that big of a deal, you fly around on your blasters all the time!

dust: wha- not that big of a deal? not that big of a deal?! it's different with my blasters because at least i have some form of ground to stand on, but skydiving is-

horror: okay, there we go, fixed. dust, shut the hell up. honestly, killer's idea was terrible in the moment, but now that i'm looking back at it... skydiving was kinda fun. so we're doing it again.

dust: what?! are you insane?! are both of you deranged and demented?? let- let go of me! no! no!!

horror: we are insane and demented. happy birthday killer. for once i'm actually glad you came up with this idea.

killer: aww, thanks horror, love ya too~

horror: nevermind.

okay that's it happy bday killer sans i love you so much you're one of my favorite characters and you're so interesting and cool hahaha i need you to stab me. (in a nice way) uhhhh who said that

more versions of that art below!!!!! btw i wrote a short oneshot for this little fellas bday 2 check it out :333

[ragsy]

Ok uh let me think I am so bad at knowing good questions to ask without a list let me think.

Ok

For all of your OCs that are from MOTW settings:

5 things they always have on them

4 things they are good at

3 things they could never live without

2 things they like to eat

1 thing they would wish for If they had a genie wish

HOUUHH THAT'S A LOT OF GUYS, OKAY

5 things they always have on them:

Dogmark: Glasses, wristwatch, hip flask, hiking boots, trinket from Tuck that he will never ever let anyone else see ever

Emily: Dangly earrings shaped like something cute, pocket calendar, phone in a brightly colored case with an equally brightly colored pop socket, ibuprofen, extremely large and heavy water bottle

Everett: Cutting edge smartphone, expensive sunglasses, expensive shoes, expensive jacket, business cards

Fishwoman: nothing, she doesn't wear clothes and she doesn't carry anything in her hands

Kenny: Walking cane, Franklin, cursed tape recorder, pocket notebook, dental floss

Sloane: Revolver, beat up old cell phone, arm brace/prothesis, hair ties, brass knuckles

4 things they are good at:

Dogmark: he just wants to be a good dog, isn't that enough?

Emily: trivia games, organization, conversation, missing the forest for the trees

Everett: lying, perjury, deception, looking good in sunglasses

Fishwoman: pickpocketing, fucking with fishermen, mindblowing weird fish sex, keeping a straight face in any situation

Kenny: breaking the ice, dental hygiene, bringing levity, missing the point

Sloane: arm wrestling (with her good arm at least), bestowing nicknames, shooting, grilling

3 things they could never live without:

Dogmark: the clothes on his back, the kindness of strangers, his sharpened teeth

Emily: the power of denial, her own independence, the shoulders of loved ones

Everett: a pretty face, the desperation of others, a charming voice

Fishwoman: not giving a fuck, hedonistic pleasures, sloane

Kenny: human connection, memories committed to paper, a familiar landing place

Sloane: a reliable weapon, an escape route, a confidant

2 things they like to eat:

Dogmark: raw beef, and he can't eat it anymore but he misses tomato soup so so so bad

Emily: apples, fresh baked bread

Everett: he doesn't eat, but he's always carrying around a cup of coffee to keep up appearances

Fishwoman: fresh caught catfish (still wriggling), shrimp chips

Kenny: hot cider, toast with jam

Sloane: steak, grilled veggies

1 thing they would wish for if they had a genie wish:

Dogmark: a cure for his curse

Emily: for magic to be real

Everett: to become the specialiest most beloved guy in the whole wide world

Fishwoman: someone like her

Kenny: a fresh start

Sloane: to know how it all ends

[holylustration]

Dopamine Week #4: Fic Recommendation

My theme for Dopamine Week is "WIPs." And on that front, I have two WIPs in mind: one that I am currently caught up on and another that I haven't gotten to fully sink my teeth into yet.

Recommendation #1: Edge of Daybreak Unbroken by @themagnificentmags

So, I think I began reading Edge of Daybreak Unbroken during the very first Dopamine Week, so I'm glad to be able to give it a recommendation and bring it full circle!

Here's why Edge of Daybreak Unbroken is worth your time:

The premise is Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader, New Game Plus. And I love that. I find it has that meta quality narrative where I, as the reader, can empathize with the main character when she sees the outcome of a choice she never took.

Despite it being a game "retelling," it isn't a one-for-one copy and paste of the game's script. And even the events that we see happening through Eltura's eyes aren't always a match for what we see in the game, as she might just nuke the planet from orbit rather than deal with the obvious and problematic trap that lurks on its surface.

The prose is a beautiful balance of matter-of-fact, dry humor, and evocative description. Mags gets you the necessary information to understand what's going on in a very unfussy, reader-friendly way, and then hits you upside the head with a bat as she describes what its like to wiggle teeth loose from their sockets with a tongue and subsequently choke on them.

You really can't help but cheer for Eltura. She comes back to relive all her horrors because she wants Heinrix to stay with her this time (and who WOULDN'T want that?), only she slips and falls into Iconoclasm along the way. Also, I put her in the category of fashionable Rogue Traders because of her coat. She is criminally underrepresented in Rogue Trader art.

Mags is not just a delightful person, but also meticulous. She really wants to think through the lore and the canon implications of the story. So, you can be sure that Edge of Daybreak Unbroken is being written in a way that is thoughtful and deliberate.

Recommendation #2: Omnissiah Forgive Me by @jaal-ama-daravv

Having not gotten very far yet into Omnissiah Forgive Me, let me give you the reasons why I've chosen to catch up on the fic this week:

Pasqal is one of the hardest characters for me to write; his speech pattern and motivations generally elude me. And Jaal's got seven chapters of him? SEVEN chapters? Emperor above, grant me blessed cognition so that I may better write him!

Sometimes, I just need a little break from Marazhai or Heinrix, so why not sample something that isn't Nocturne or Calligos? :D

I've had the pleasure of hearing Jaal narrate excerpts during our live readings, and she puts so much raw emotion into each and every word. It is electrifying. I cannot WAIT to see how that plays out on the page.

Damn, if Kassard's description doesn't come off as an absolute and utter badass. Tall, strong, scarred woman? Not afraid of her emotion? Heck yes.

A shout goes out to Jaal herself for her dedication not just to the story, but also the Rogue Trader community. Whether she's a mod or organizing the gift exchanges, she's somewhere being a positive contributor! And she does all of that on top of one of the hardest real life jobs that I can imagine, so she deserves double the praise!

Whether you're reading one (or both) of the fics above, or you're starting on something else, thanks for joining us this week!

[icdrawings]

Victim 5: Gwen Ingrid

~Witch of the woods

By @eavee-ry

Day 28

Location: Western woods

Rule 5: Cheaters never win

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With all the dark colors she wore Gwen was a bright person. She loved the Gothic clothing as it was her and how she expressed herself but not only that her talents show too. Her love for arts, doesn't matter what type: sculpting, painting, and drawing all were meaningful to her. When she came to this island she wanted to win to fulfill her dream of owning an art studio but now she is the artwork of another artist as she was painted red and crucified to a tree

She loves to draw

As now her drawings are on trees

Once you see the first picture

You're too late

You are nothing but a cheater Chris, you cheated your way through everything, you even cheated death but not her

This time you have no choice but to follow

She whispers the rules of her scavenger hunt in your ear

You have to remember all of them

1) Don't forget the drawings

2) Don't call for help

3) Don't run away

Find the drawings

Find them quick

The faster you find them the more she stays away

You only have 8 pictures how hard could it be

As you search for the drawings you start to notice what was on the pages

It was all the past 4 victims, herself, and 2 others all smiling and all healthy but the last page was yourself but with a large red x covering your face

You look up from the pages as now everything changed your now in front of a large tree with two nails poking out as everything was covered in blood

You hear her whisper behind you

You fear what you would see but with curiosity filling your heart you turn

She truly was a witch as now bugs crawl out of her mouth and eye socket

As her stomach was cut open exposing her insides of what used to be organs were now replaced with bugs

Your body moves on its own as now you drop all the papers and turn to run as scream

You realize what you did

You broke the rules

Her rule

Now you feel something crawl up your throat

You vomit to see in horror that what came out was bugs: centipedes, spiders, and maggots all covered in your blood

You keep vomiting until there is nothing left

You have given her what an artist needed most

Materials

As now she drags you to another tree

She doesn't waste time when making art

You'll become her next masterpiece

Art work by: me

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Day 28

Victim 6