#Honeycomb Belt

[alex-wire-mesh]

304 Honeycomb Conveyor Belt

304 honeycomb conveyor belt is available in widths from 12 to 72 inches. This honeycomb conveyor belt is suitable for temperatures ranging from -40°C to 850°C. As the popular conveyor belt, it is easy to clean and maintain for increased longevity.

304 Honeycomb Conveyor Belt Specifications: 1. Material: 304 2. Cross ro: 3mm 3. Pitc/Spiral pitch: 20mm/15.3mm 4. Plate thicknes: 1.2mm 5. Plate heigh: 10mm 6. Width：1,155mm 7. Length：10,000mm/roll

Key Features: 1. Exceptional Versatility Ideal for various industries, from food processing to automotive. 2. Smooth Material Transfer Honeycomb structure ensures gentle and consistent product conveyance. 3. Open Design Promotes efficient airflow and drainage, enhancing hygiene. 4. Reduced Downtime High reliability minimizes production interruptions. 5. Minimal Friction Low coefficient ensures minimal product wear and tear. 6. Cost-Effective Solution Long-lasting performance saves on replacement costs.

Advantages: 1. Improved Sanitation Easy-to-clean surface meets strict hygiene standards. 2. Longevity Guaranteed Resistant to wear and tear for prolonged service life. 3. Enhanced Efficiency Smooth material flow reduces operational bottlenecks. 4. Safe for Food Handling Complies with food safety regulations. 5. Lower Operating Costs Reduced maintenance and energy consumption. 6. Tailored Solutions Customizable to suit unique conveyor system requirements.

Applications: 1. Food Industry Ideal for baking, cooling, and food processing applications. 2. Automotive Perfect for automotive assembly lines and component handling. 3. Electronics Ensures ESD-safe material handling in electronic production. 4. Pharmaceutical Maintains product integrity in pharmaceutical manufacturing. 5. Packaging Supports efficient packaging and labeling processes. 6. Industrial Manufacturing Versatile for various industrial material handling needs.

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[umilily]

the overalls are done!!

[mayuri-manufacturer]

Special Purpose Sprockets Manufacturer in Pune | Maharashtra

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[gothish]

knrii honeycomb belt

[thus-spoke-lo]

Birthday Gift // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader // NSFW/18+ Kink: Cosplay/roleplay

A/N: It's Law's birthday--what better day to show him some love? Thank you to @thenotsofantasticlifestory for the concept! CW: afab!reader [no pronouns used]; reader wears a skirt; choking; vaginal fingering; unprotected vaginal intercourse; creampie WC: 2.7k // Fictober Masterlist

“What’s taking you so long in there?”

Law’s voice is muffled by the bathroom door, but you can still detect a hint of irritation threaded through it nonetheless.

“Don’t worry about it!” you shout back, carefully pulling fishnet thigh-highs up your legs, sweat beading at your temples as you concentrate on trying not to rip the delicate honeycombs upon first wear—that would be something you would leave to Law. “Just another minute!”

Law was typically a patient man, especially where you were concerned, but tonight he was slowly becoming unraveled. It was your doing, of course—once you had told him you had a surprise for him, standing on tiptoes before you left your shared quarters to whisper it in his ear as you pressed yourself against his back, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close, his steely resolve slowly began to melt. He had tried to mask his excitement as they day waned, now keeping his gaze fixed on the coins he was sorting into thick books, but you still caught the hint of a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth, spotted the slight crinkling around his eyes that gave away his barely-suppressed interest. He would deny it if asked, but the accumulation of tells was giving him away—he was eager to learn just what it was you had in store for him.

The swishy skirt that sits on your hips sways as the submarine shudders, and you adjust the pleats, hiking it up just a little higher, exposing the exact right amount of thigh that you intend. With a slow exhale, you add your final touch—a lightweight helmet that you carefully lower down onto your head before studying yourself in the mirror, frowning and pouting, trying to perfect the most stoic and brave look possible. You stifle a laugh at delightfully ridiculous you look, like a comic-book character come to life—precisely as you intended.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you announce as you open the bathroom door, placing your gloved hands on your hips and standing with your legs apart, looking off into corner of his room as though you were gazing into the misty horizon; all that’s missing is a strong breeze to rustle your flowing blue cape and swish the hem of your ridiculously short skirt.

“Oh thanks b—” Law’s jaw hangs open as he turns in his chair to address you, and the coins he holds in his hand drop and scatter on the floor. “You—you’re—”

“Sora, Warrior of the Sea,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest and adjusting your stance, beaming wildly at his reaction. “From the infamous issue where Sora is hit with a gender-swap ray.”

Law clucks his tongue. “Well, I mean technically it was more than one issue for it to be resolved, you know.”

“Law…”

“What?”

You huff a sigh and smile as you cross the room to him, his gaze never leaving you, eyes flitting over every heroically-decorated inch of you. Law stands and lets out a shivering exhale as he approaches you cautiously, almost reverently, long fingers reaching out and running over the smoothness of your helmet, tracing every curve and sharp angle. He delicately fondles the shimmering fabric of your cape, taking handfuls of it and rubbing it between his fingers, touching it to his face to feel the softness of the material, humming at the sensation. It was rare to see this particular look of awe on Law’s face, to see him wrapped up in something this intensely, his eyes taking in every single inch of your carefully crafted costume. His pupils dilate as his palms trail down the stiff material of your sleeves, until his hands reach yours and he grips them tightly, and even through your thick leather gloves you feel how he trembles just slightly, seeming to vibrate with excitement.

“You look—I mean, all of it—i-it’s perfect. And it’s…oh, fuck, you look so sexy.” His eyes glimmer in that way you love, when something catches his interest and holds it tightly and won’t let him go. “It’s exactly like the comic. Every detail.”

You swallow hard, biting your lip. “You really like it?”

“I love it.” He leans down and presses his lips to yours with an impulsive urgency, almost seeming as though he’s restraining himself from something more. “And I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’m glad you like it, it took me forever to make it.”

“Wait…you made this?” A soft dusting of blush begins to cover his cheeks. “You must really love me if you sewed something this complicated.”

“Well, I had a little help,” you demur, hoping the money you slipped to Penguin and Shachi would be enough to keep them quiet about your bespoke birthday gift, at least for a while.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Law murmurs as he carefully removes your helmet and sets it on his desk, his hands returning to your face to cup your heated cheeks. “I didn’t expect anything.”

“I know.” You turn your head and kiss his palm, placing your gloved hands on top of his. “And that’s why I wanted to do it.”

“You’re too good to me.” He kisses you again, softly sighing against your lips, his thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

“Don’t say that just yet,” you chuckle as he breaks your kiss, “I’m not done.”

You bend over—slowly, deliberately, making sure the hem of your skirt lifts perfectly to expose the underside of your ass cheeks, until you hear Law hiss through his teeth at the sight—and grab a box from under the bed.

“Here.” Your drag your teeth along your lower lip as you watch him tear into the wrapping paper, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I didn’t have time to make more pieces but it’s—”

“A Stealth Black cape.” His look of shock turns to one of something close to delight as the box falls to the floor and he holds up the long, flowing cloak, his eyes fixed on it almost worshipfully. “Shit, this is so cool.”

“Well, put it on,” you finally blurt excitedly. “I have a criminal to capture.”

“Oh, you think you’ll capture me, do you?” he purrs, smooth and low, quickly adapting to his role as he dons his getup. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Then try I shall!” You grin and press your hand to his chest, the feeling of his racing heart under your palm catching you off guard. “S-stop, vile villain!”

“Honey.” A look of utter seriousness washes over his face. “He wouldn’t say that.”

“Law…” You flatten your lips and press them together, blinking at him questioningly.

“What?”

“Nevermind,” you shrug with a grin—this was his birthday after all, a little more accuracy to the source material won’t kill you. “What would he say then?”

“You know what?” he says after a beat, his tone softening for a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Then prepare to be brought to justice!”

“You’re no match for the might of Germa 66, Sora—you will never be able to outwit our scientific might!”

You throw a soft punch at Law’s midsection, then a lazy kick at his thigh as he pretends to double-over in agony and stumble backwards towards his desk. But before you can land another hit, he lunges forward and wraps a strong hand around your wrist, twisting you around as he pulls your arm behind your back and yanks you against him. He wraps his other arm around your waist as you feign a struggle, throwing your head back onto his chest as you grunt and grumble.

“I have you now, Sora,” he growls, his tongue running along the shell of your ear. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You’ll never be able to hold me, Stealth Black,” you mutter as you softly kick at his shins, your boots barely making contact with his body as you find yourself enjoying the fabricated scuffle more than you expected. A familiar heat begins to spread throughout your partially-restrained body, an ache beginning to build between your thighs as Law groans softly every time you writhe in his grasp. “No one can escape my justice, not even you.”

“Oh, is that so?” He tightens his grip on your waist for a moment, pulling you closer until your ass is flush with his groin; the swell of his arousal presses against you, and a moan creeps up your throat unexpectedly. “We’ll see about that.”

Law’s free hand runs up the front of your body, his pace achingly slow and deliberate, his fingers dancing over the smooth fabric of your costume, lingering on your breasts, circling over your clothed nipples until you squirm. His palm comes to rest on your neck and he keeps it there, stroking your jaw with his thumb as he groans low in your ear. Long, slender fingers wrap around your throat, and he begins to squeeze, applying a gentle, persistent pressure to the sides of your delicate neck, just below your jaw.

“Give in yet, Sora?” he asks as he releases his grip, a shivering breath leaving his lungs at the way you gasp for air, the way you quake so perfectly in his grasp.

“N-never,” you stammer—at least, not as long as it means he’ll be forced to keep tormenting you in the way you love.

He lets out a low chuckle and squeezes tighter this time, pressing at the sides of your neck, keeping his hand positioned just-so to force your head straight. Your free hand grasps at his forearm, digging your fingers into his tattooed flesh as your pulse starts to grow louder in your ears, darkness starting to form at the edges of your vision. But Law knows precisely where the edge is and how far he can let you peer over it before he needs to pull you back, and with a gasp of his own, he releases his hold on you, quickly moving his arm to wrap around your chest and keep you aloft.

“Hmm, you are a tough one, Sora,” he murmurs against your cheek, warm breath spreading across your skin as you pull in lungfuls of air. “I guess I’ll have to use stronger measures.”

With a few quick movements, Law maneuvers you onto the bed, your body landing with a soft thump; he nudges your legs apart and kneels between them, looking you over with a hunger in his eyes that makes your pulse race and your body flood with a needy heat. He trails his hands up the soft leather of your boots, up the plushness of your thighs, fingertips poking and prodding at the holes in your fishnets, snapping the elastic band at the top against your skin until you yelp from the sharp stings.

“You want something from me, don’t you?” he purrs as he undoes the fastens of his cape and lets it fall to the floor. You aren’t sure if he’s asking as the villain or as himself—and the growing need between your thighs doesn’t particularly care which. You chew your lower lip and watch as his tattooed hands push your skirt up over your thighs, up further and further until his lips part and his tongue pokes at the corner of his mouth. “My, my—no panties? You really did come looking for trouble.”

“I suppose I did,” you tease, parting your legs a little more, allowing him to take in the full extent of your arousal. “I really can’t help but be attracted to the bad guy.”

“The bad guy, huh?” Law groans softly under his breath at your glistening wetness and trails his fingers down the downy softness of your mound, down to the apex of your slit, pressing on your tender bundle of nerves, making subtle circles over it until your back arches and you whine with need. “Would the bad guy do this?”

“I-I guess not,” you stammer as he toys with your aching clit, moving his thumb over it with a fierce insistence. He deftly slides his middle and ring fingers into your dripping cunt, driving them into you again and again as you buck your hips against him, fucking yourself on his hand.

Tension coils inside you with every pump of his long fingers, every bit of pressure he applies to your clit, and you writhe with every burning caress. Law grins lasciviously and crooks his fingers upwards to massage that most sensitive spot inside you, forcing the breath from your lungs with every stroke of your walls. Your shaking hands grip the sheets, and that tautness in your core finally snaps; you convulse into a chain of spasms, your breath coming in short, harsh gasps with every throb and every pulse.

“What do you say now, Sora—do you surrender yet?” Law asks as he slows his movements, still relishing the way you flutter and clench around his fingers as your orgasm subsides.

“I-I surrender, Stealth Black,” you manage to utter between harsh, choppy breaths.

“Good.” Law stares down at you for a moment, head cocked, his pupils blown with lust, taking in the sight of your shivering body in the costume you made just for him. “It’s a lot more fun that way.”

He’s insatiable, his actions frantic and almost wild as he strips his shirt off and hastily unzips his jeans, pulling them just far enough down his hips to pull out his pulsing cock, the reddened head already shining and smeared with precum. He guides himself to your cunt, running the tip through your slick folds, before easing himself into you, inch by inch, until you groan at the feeling of fullness when his hips finally meet yours. His thrusts are frenzied, voracious, his every movement filled with pulsing, vibrating need—you’ve awoken something deep within him, an aching need that he needs to fulfill.

“You look so perfect, honey,” he moans into your mouth as he captures your lips in a long, drugging kiss, his tongue making sweeping, swirling motions inside your mouth. “You’re so good to me.”

You wrap your arms around his muscled shoulders and arch into him, tipping your hips to meet each powerful thrust, as his lean hips snap against your body, pushing you against the mattress. His low groans reverberate in your chest, every thrust even more desperate and demanding than the last, chasing after his own release.

“Fuck, fuck you feel so good,” he says in a low whine, nipping at your neck as he rocks into you with a steady, urgent rhythm. “Gonna cum, sweetheart. Gonna cum so hard for you.”

Law’s thrusts become more and more erratic, his hips stilling for only the briefest moment before he groans and shudders, spilling himself into you as he mutters your name again and again in blissful gratitude. He rests on top of you for a moment, kissing down your neck, flicking his tongue over your jaw and nuzzling against your cheek, before he flops down beside you with a contented huff. He pulls you into him, tucking you under his arm and kissing your forehead softly, humming under his breath.

“That was so much fun,” Law manages to utter between sharp inhales.

“Yeah? You liked your birthday gift?”

“I loved it, couldn’t you tell?”

“Oh I could,” you smirk, feeling his cum leaking out of you, stickiness spreading between your thighs. “I still like to hear it, though. Hell, you made it feel like my birthday, too.”

His elongated fingers flit over your upper arm, drawing little patterns in the now-rumpled fabric of your shirt as you lay in satisfied silence, only the sounds of your slowing breaths and the occasional rustle of the tangled sheets mingling in the air.

“You know,” Law utters after a moment, “we are gonna have to work on your dialogue though—I have some back issues of Sora that would probably be the most helpful. We can read them together if you want.”

“Law…”

“What?”

[vesselandmoon]

Riding the Rails

NSFW so please, 18+ for readers on this one. This has nothing to do with the main Sleep Token fic I've been working on, it's just smut for the sake of it I suppose.

I was going to wait until tomorrow but here. For @hookedhobbies thank you for talking me up. Please read the content warnings and tags. If I forgot something, let me know and I'll add it.

CW: blindfold, pegging, praise

When Celie is allowed to be an altar for an offering to Vessel, she gets pulled into a situation she didn't expect.

Celie dropped her bag inside her bedroom door, wondering how the hell any of this happened. One ritual and within a month she was moved in and basically a pet. The guys had been gone but she expected them back. Maybe they were sleeping? She didn’t know what was expected of her but she’d be damned if she walked away after what happened before.

On her bed a white box with a black ribbon caught her attention. On the tag was oddly neat handwriting requesting that if she was interested, she should put the outfit on and open the door at midnight. Weird, it had no name.

Inside was a corset made of soft velvet. Deep crimson with black lace and thin leather strips connecting to a collar. Maybe II? She tilted her head and poked around some more to find sheer stockings, a garter belt, and black heels but the shorts were what caught her attention. Tight, black, and fitted for a toy which she found off to the side.

“Oh,” she said, blush spreading across her cheeks. Whoever it was wanted her to peg him? It wasn’t something she was too familiar with but she’d wanted to experiment more with it. The thing was, who wanted it? For sure it wasn’t III. He would have thrown it to her, gotten her a stool, and told her to get to work.

Celie smirked at the thought but there was still a question of who. With the blindfold that completed the outfit she was sure she wasn’t going to know until she was engaged in the act. Still, it intrigued her.

Twenty minutes to get ready. She quickly washed up, heart pounding as she got into the outfit, checking the clock constantly. Someone was outside the door. Their shadow moved a little here and there with seemingly anxious energy but there was no sound. No voice. He was keeping quiet though a couple minutes to midnight he was pacing.

She took a deep breath and secured the blindfold, swallowing hard against the leather collar. A gentle knock at the door and she opened it, feeling the figure on the other side fall still. She could practically feel his gaze on her and she shifted uncomfortably before he moved past her, the scent of laundry detergent following him.

No help there. All of them used the same damn soap. Celie bit her lip when she felt him so very close but not touching her, the door closing with a soft click. He locked it then took her fingertips in his and led her toward the bed.

“Are you…” she inhaled. “Can I take the blindfold off?”

He touched her lips and guided her head in a slow motion of “no”.

“Even if I guess? Even if I know?” she asked and again he guided her to “no.”

“Will you speak at all?” she asked as she heard fabric sliding off his body.

“Yes.” His reply was barely a whisper and heat flooded through her body.

She knew.

“I… if you want me to stop, I need you to have a safe word. Do you have one or do you want me to make one up?”

“You.”

Celie could feel his hand around the thick cock he’d chosen for their encounter, the tugging gentle and slow. She wished she could see it. Wished she could feel it as her own flesh. All she knew was that he had lowered himself though whether he was sitting at the edge of the bed or was on the floor she couldn’t be sure.

Fingertips grazed the line of her garter straps, sending shivers up her legs. She wanted to touch him. To feel his face, his hair, his body, and yet there was hesitation. Instead she tested the limits, resting her hands on his but she didn’t shy away. He wrapped a hand around the all too realistic cock, stroking it.

“How about honeycomb?” she asked and a faint chuckle met her ears.

“Yes.”

It was Vessel. It had to be.

“I should probably tell you I’m not that experienced with this,” she admitted. He took her hands, pressing his thumbs into her palms to keep the touch minimum but she could hear something wet. Feel hot breath on the thin strip of flesh between the corset and her shorts, feel the slight motion of the dildo. Was he sucking it?

A low moan escaped him and she felt him take more of the cock in his mouth. Her breath caught in her throat. If only she could feel it as her own flesh. The memory of his tongue delving into her, searching out traces of cum left by the others made her ache for him. She imagined what it would be like to feel the back of his throat squeezing as he swallowed.

He helped himself for a time and she wished she could see his mouth stretch wide. Frankly, she wasn’t sure how he’d take the dildo. It was impressive. Close to IV’s girth but a little longer. Not quite as long as III. Then again, if Vessel was involved with either of them (which she assumed he was) then taking this might not be too difficult for him.

A sucking pop and shuffling in front of her signaled that he had moved but it took him a moment to guide her over to the bed. He pressed a bottle to her hand. Lube? She felt around on it, convinced she was right, when the bed creaked slightly.

Tentatively she reached out, patting about in air before finally finding skin. His lower back and ass. He was leaned across the edge of the bed, ready for her. She could feel the muscles in his thigh shifting as she explored a bit of his body.

“I wish I could see you,” Celie said, mouth gone dry as she felt him spread himself open for her.

Lubed fingers were met with a sharp little gasp and Celie squeezed her thighs together. He was so soft. So warm. The tip of her finger pressed against his ass, feeling it clench with anticipation, then relax. She slid the finger deeper, curling it toward his prostate. He arched his back, pushing her deeper still and she let out a breathy chuckle.

Celie’s mind raced with questions. Why her? Why not ask one of the others? Surely a real cock and someone proficient in using it would have made for a more enjoyable evening and yet he’d gone through so much trouble to put together an entire outfit for this. He’d thought about it. Knew what he wanted, even if she didn’t understand why.

Vessel reached around and grabbed the cock, pulling her closer until it was poised to enter him. He was eager and frankly, she was so turned on at the thought of him spread open for her, she was willing to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it.

She slid the head of the dildo across his ass, pressing in every so slightly only to stop and continue rubbing. Teasing. Never letting it enter him, not even the head. He pushed back against her and she pulled away.

“Relax,” she said, gripping his hips to keep him in place. “We have all night, right?”

“Yes,” he replied, tone tinged with impatience, but she felt the tension ease a little from his body.

“Let me enjoy you.” Celie barely pushed the tip of the dildo against him again before leaning over to kiss his back. He stiffened but didn’t tell her to stop so she dragged her nails down his sides, feeling him arch down into the bed, his hips a little higher.

How was her heart pounding so damn hard? She bit her lip, trying to slow her breathing but he was getting impatient as she continued to tease him. Nails and soft kisses, slick wet sounds of lube as she rocked her hips.

“Please,” he muttered and Celie stopped. “Please,” he asked, a little louder.

The desire to hear him beg flared up in her belly but she didn’t know the limit. Not yet.

Celie put a little more lube on her fingers, stroking it along the shaft of the dildo before guiding it with the other hand. She could hear him take a deep breath as she poised to enter him only for it to escape in a soft moan when she finally pushed the tip into him.

Her fingertips stayed in place, feeling the cock sink into him little by little with every leisurely thrust. She tried to concentrate on what he must look like. How he was stretching around the dildo with those sweet little pants and groans escaping his lips.

“You’re taking me so well,” she said, testing his reaction to her praise. In response he pushed back, driving more of the toy into himself and eliciting a surprised giggle from Celie. “You’re so needy. Calm down love, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Love…” he repeated, contemplative, as if he was rolling the word around in his head. Feeling it. Testing it. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I’d still rather take it slow.” Celie pulled almost all the way out, using one hand to keep track of the depth while the other gripped his hip for leverage. “Without being able to see, I can’t tell how deep I am in you. Maybe it would help if I was on top?”

He let out a thoughtful hum but didn’t move besides pushing back against her, taking the cock and rocking her back a little. He wanted it all the way and his frustrated groan told her as much.

“Fuck sake. So damn impatient. Fine but don’t say I didn’t try,” she said, pulling back and slamming into him all the way to her hips.

Vessel let out a sound somewhere between a sharp exhale and a moan, his breath coming in trembling gasps. She took several deep but tentative thrusts before figuring out how far she could pull back and still keep the cock safely inside of him.

She could feel him move, feel him reach around to grab himself but frustration hit her like a truck and she slapped his ass so hard he hissed in pain.

“If you won’t be patient enough for me to fuck you how I want, then you can’t touch yourself until I tell you.” The moment the words left her mouth she doubted if she’d made the right choice. Had she said that to the others they might have laughed at her and done what they wanted anyway but Vessel relented with a quiet “yes” and put his hands behind his back.

Celie let go of his hips and grabbed his wrists instead. She knew his cock was rubbing on the edge of her bed with every thrust and it would have to be his relief for now. Her confidence grew as the sting of her hand ached with every beat of her heart.

“Hm I wish I could feel this,” she breathed, driving hard into him. “I wish I could feel that tight ass squeezing around me. God you take it so well. So fucking well. I bet you’re pretty when you get fucked.”

She half expected him to stop her, to tell her to tone it down or become uncomfortable but instead her coaxing had him trembling, his groans devolving into desperate moans.

“You like when I dirty talk you?” she asked but he didn’t reply. Another swift smack on his ass and he tensed up, a sharp cry escaping his lips. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes,” he breathed.

“You’re being so good for me.” Celie changed positions a little, adjusting her angle which had Vessel’s moans become muffled. She leaned forward and traced a hand around his jaw to feel that he was biting a blanket. “No, let it go. I just told you how good you’re being and now you want to act up? Good boy,” she praised as he released the blanket from his clenched jaw.

One hand still around his wrists, though she knew she couldn’t stop him from pulling away if he wanted, she snaked the other hand around to wedge two fingers between his teeth. Saliva pooled in his mouth but his moans were much more apparent, making her eyes roll back. She wanted him so badly it hurt. Her pussy throbbed. Ached. She needed some sort of relief but every thrust against him only did so much.

Soft desperate whines in the back of Vessel’s throat became wet and he almost gurgled, tongue working around her fingers to swallow the saliva she was sure was dripping from his chin. Celie leaned over, resting her forehead on his back, breath hot on his skin. While she was enjoying it, she needed more. Needed those little moans to turn into begging. Pleading. She wanted to hear his pretty voice cry out for her.

Celie straightened, gripping his wrists with both hands again, fingers on her left hand slick with saliva as she began pounding into him mercilessly.

“Ah fuck,” he whined, squirming against her. His breath came out in harsh pants every time she drove hard into him. “S-stop… stop stop stop,” he begged.

And yet there was no safe word. She would bet his fists were twisted into the sheets, eyes rolling back in his head.

“D-don’t move p-please… please stop. Fuck! I c-can’t I can’t.”

Celie smirked and did just that, pulling entirely out of him and stepping back only for her ears to catch a disappointed whimper.

“Was I too rough, love?” she asked. “I’ll stop, it’s fine. You can get cleaned up now.”

“W-what? No, no wait.

Celie made a show of walking away from him.

“Stop, please. I need this.” The quiet desperation in his tone made her smirk mischievously.

She took several slow steps toward him until she could feel his hands on her hips, soft kisses on her wrists but he was trembling.

“What do you need?” she asked, tracing along his jawline.

“You,” he swallowed.

“What do you need from me? Use your words.”

He hesitated. “I need you to… to make me cum. I need it. Please.”

“Lay on your back,” she demanded and he quickly did so. The bed creaked a little under him and she slid on her knees, guided by him until she could grab his ass again. She pushed the back of his thighs until his knees were spread wide and folded closer to his body.

The head of the dildo slipped easily into his well lubed ass and he bucked against her, the sound of his own cock faintly slapping on his belly with the movement.

Celie wrapped a hand around his shaft, rolling her thumb over the tip, feeling precum.

“Look how wet you are for me,” she smirked tasting him from her thumb.

Vessel moaned in response as she gripped the back of his knees and pushed the dildo so deep in him that he grabbed at the straps of the harness.

“So needy,” she purred, putting her weight on his thighs. “You’re taking me all the way and you still want more? I didn’t take you for such a greedy little cock slut, my love.”

“D-don’t,” he whimpered.

“Don’t what? Come on, use your big boy words,” she teased, pulling out only to fuck back into him the second he started to speak, chocking him on his own words.

“I’ll cum,” he admitted once he could breath.

“Isn’t that the point? Don’t you want me to make you cum?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh? You want me to drag it out? Make you suffer? Well, I don’t plan on letting you cum yet anyway but you’re just going to have to deal with the teasing. I like hearing you beg.”

Celie gripped the headboard with one hand, using it as leverage before she kicked off her heels and was finally able to drive into him harder. Fucking him felt so… empowering. The way he writhed and bucked against her. The way he whimpered. She could feel his belly tremble under her free hand, his cock twitching against her wrist with every thrust.

“Come on, make noise for me,” she said but he choked down a moan. “Be a good boy and tell me what you want.”

“H-harder…”

“Do I need a bigger cock for you, love? These needy little whimpers… fuck Vess, I bet you look so pretty right now.” She noticed how desperate her own voice was getting. “God I want to see you stretched open. I want to see you choke on this cock, tears in those gorgeous eyes… fuck you’re cruel.”

“H-how?” he managed to ask through increasingly frustrated thrusts from her.

“You get all the fun. I can’t even see you getting fucked. I can’t feel this thing, I can’t feel you, I can’t… fuck I can’t even get off.”

She expected some kind of reply but all he did was arch his back and moan with an oddly knowing, breathy chuckle. Was this part of his game? To torment her. She’d make him pay for it. Her shorts were soaked through, body aching. Trembling almost as bad as his.

His fingers traced down her lip to grip the collar around her throat and pull her in close. Desperation and anger welled up in her and she slapped his hands away before pounding into him hard, doing to him what she wanted done to her.

“Come on Vess, if nothing else I need you to make noise for me. Tell me what you want.”

“T-touch me.”

“No.”

“Please… please I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Celie gripped his cock and smeared his precum across the head. “Louder.”

“Please!”

His cock throbbed and twitched with every thrust and her thighs were beginning to burn but she kept up the pace. He tried to grab her hand, to force her to grip him harder but she smacked his ass so hard her hand stung and he cried out.

“I bet you clench so fucking hard around my cock when I slap you. What a dirty little tease. Do you want to cum for me? I want you to cum all over that pretty belly.”

“I need it,” he whimpered. “I need to—”

Celie pounded into him and the words melted into a sharp cry.

“Make me cum, please. Don’t stop.”

He was practically clawing at the headboard, and she swore she heard tears in his voice. He was reduced to a high pitched breathy whine,  pleading with desperation.

Celie clenched her jaw and continued to rail him. “Are you going to cum for me? My messy, needy little slut. You sound so pretty. So fucking needy. Beg for it.”

“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” his words came out as a singular string of whimpers as she stroked his cock to the same harsh pace that’s he fucked him until all she could hear was a strangled cry and feel the heat of his cum as he shot rope after hot rope across his belly and chest.

Celie chuckled breathlessly, driving the cock deep into him as she slowly rubbed his cum all over his cock, making his body jerk and twitch.

“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” he said, trying to make her stop as overstimulation wracked his body.

“You said don’t stop. What’s wrong? You don’t like getting the same torture you give?”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” His high-pitched pleas ended abruptly as he ripped her hands away from his cock. He laughed, breathy and weak. “You want to know a secret?”

“What?” she asked, still buried deep inside of him but now caressing his inner thighs as he went limp.

“There was a toy for you in that box,” he chuckled. “You were supposed to have it in during this.”

All the color drained from her face. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” he laughed. “Come here… I suppose I should return the favor. Love.” He flipped her to her back with ease. “So, safe word is still honeycomb?”

[miriel-elenna]

Dean didn't expect to make it three years.

Hell, let's be honest, after all the bullshit of his entire life, he hadn't expected to make it to the wedding, a wedding, any wedding. He'd given that dream up years ago, because no one in their right mind would look at Dean Winchester and think, yeap, that's they guy I'm gonna marry.

Lucky for Dean, Cas was crazy. Crazy like a fox. Which worked just fine since Dean wasn't exactly on his rocker either.

Dean was determined to not take any day, any second, for granted. He had plans. Schemes, even. He was gonna rock Cas' socks clear off.

It all started before the sun came up. For once, Dean was the early riser, too excited for the day to sleep too much. The February morning dawned clear and cold as Dean snuck around their house, quietly pulling things out and setting things up.

The breakfast nook was set up just so, the sunny yellow table cloth, flowers in a vase, and a new, leather-bound journal carefully placed beside Cas' plate, a honeycomb decorated pen clipped to the cover.

By the time Cas rolled out of bed, the coffee was already made and the bacon had just finished cooking. Dean poured batter into the Death Star waffle maker, one of their awesomer wedding gifts, as the floorboards creaked, announcing Cas' entrance into the kitchen.

Dean turned around, Cas' coffee mug in his hand, the special one from Jack that only a parent could love. Cas' eyes were still sleepy but soft as he looked at what was waiting for him.

Dean grinned and held out the steaming mug, "Happy anniversary, sweetheart."

Cas smiled and took the mug, taking a slow sip and then setting it down on the counter behind Dean. He reached up and placed his hand on Dean's cheek, drawing Dean into a slow, tender kiss.

"Good morning, my love," Cas said, voice still rough with sleep. They kissed again, impossible to stop at only one. "Happy anniversary," Cas murmured as two kisses turned into three, four, five.

The waffle maker beeped, time and space re-asserting themselves.

"Don't want the waffles to burn," Dean mumbled, before diving in to steal one last kiss from Cas' smiling lips.

Cas hummed and leaned back before Dean could steal another. "Wouldn't want to waste all of your hard work." He grabbed the plate of bacon off of the counter and took it to the table.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled with a grin. "Just save me some of the bacon this time, okay?"

"I make no promises," Cas said around the crunch of smoky, salty, meaty perfection.

"Love you too, asshole," Dean laughed, the sound of Cas' chuckle music in his ears.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, Dean and Cas trading surprise gifts. When Dean went out to his wood shop to do a little work, soft new work gloves were waiting on his bench. A sturdy leather messenger bag, the White Tree of Gondor worked into the flap, was hanging on the hook by the door, a replacement for Cas' old, threadbare foraging bag. New boots were sitting by the back door when Dean came in for lunch, black and shiny and almost too nice to wear outside. Cas was wearing the belt that Dean had left coiled in the drawer, with that gaudy purple "Cowgirl" belt buckle leftover from their bachelor party, the one that matched the pink buckle stored in Dean's top drawer.

Dean might've had to open that belt up, get down on his knees, and indulge in a little afternoon delight right there in the kitchen. It hadn't been part of the plan but who gave a damn. The sight of Cas above him, panting, eyes closed and face flushed as he came down, was worth a little detour.

Or a long detour. Whatever. It was their anniversary, they could fuck if they wanted.

Dinner was candle-lit, because Dean was a romantic, goddamnit. The pot roast had been braising low and slow for most of the day and Cas had made the best cherry pie that Dean'd ever eaten.

Soon enough they were lazing on the couch, lamplight golden around them, watching the fire in the fireplace flicker and spark.

"I have another present for you," Cas said as his fingers combed slow and lazy through Dean's hair.

"Well ain't that lucky, cause I've got another one for you, too," Dean drawled.

Getting up from the couch was hard, but Dean'd been waiting for weeks to unveil this last gift.

The bundle he pulled out from its secret hidey hole in the back of the closet unfurled into a long leather coat, soft as butter and lined with wool.

"Oh, Dean, it's wonderful," Cas said. He pulled a box out from behind his back and they traded bundles.

Dean set the box down and lifted the lid carefully off. His eyes went wide when he saw what was inside, and he couldn't help bouncing and clapping his hands, just a little.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dean asked, voice a little breathless and a touch giddy.

"I'm afraid I've played right into your cowboy fetish," Cas said with a long-suffering sigh. He reached around Dean and pulled the cowboy hat out and placed it on Dean's head. It fit perfectly. Of course it did.

Cas' arms were secure around Dean's waist and he dropped a kiss on the back of Dean's neck. "I love you, Dean."

Dean turned in his arms and kissed him soundly on the lips. "I love you, too. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He pulled out of Cas' arms and grabbed his wrist, tugging him urgently toward the bedroom. "Come on, buddy. I've got a cowboy to ride."

Cas groaned, but followed quickly behind him. "I've created a monster."

The hat, of course, stayed on the whole time.

Now posted to AO3 as Three Year Gone

[dynamic-power]

Gallavich discover farmers markets when they move to the Westside.

Ian has been trying to make sure they're eating healthy, and how can it get healthier than fresh fruits and veg? So when he sees a few stands teeming with produce and people, he drags Mickey with him.

The first time, they only purchase fruits and vegetables and bypass most of the other stands. They go back the next week. And then they go back again.

By the fourth time, they have added fresh local flowers to their weekly purchases. Mickey refuses to admit he likes having them on their dinner table, but eventually he's the one picking out the bouquet.

On their sixth trip, Ian gets distracted by a local soap maker. He spends nearly 20 minutes picking out a scent that he likes. Or rather, that he thinks he'll like on Mickey. When he finds Mickey again, his husband is munching on a bag of homemade jerky.

Ian loses count after that.

They try honeycomb for the first time and buy honey from the local beekeeper. They sample artisan cheese and jams and jellies, and they listen politely to a candle maker as she excitedly explains her process for the fourth week in a row. Ian aquires a taste for tea thanks to the blends made by a middle-aged man who pays far too much attention to his daily horoscopes. They make sure to stop by a bakery stand every time to buy fresh pastries and bread.

Mickey often lingers at a stall run by a man who does leather and woodwork, and Ian places a special order with him for Mickey's birthday; a matching belt and wallet.

By far, their favorite vendors are an old woman and her grandson who sell beanies, scarves, and the like. The old woman is nice enough, if a little forgetful, but it's the grandson, who is their age, that they become friends with. He did time for armed robbery and learned to knit while he was locked up. "I did it 'cause I remembered Nan doing it when I was a kid." Now, it's his business. And his grandma enjoys the excuse to spend time with her grandson.

By the time winter comes around, they've each got a matching hat, scarf, and glove set, there are four varieties of tea besides Mickey's favorite coffee, and they've even purchased a couple candles.

[littlemarianah]

Prompt: “How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?”

@tetheredfeathers and I started a challenge to write a text between 500 - 1000 words with this prompt.

Click >here< to see her version of this.

Just something fun to pass the time... I ended up writing my new non-reaped AU project, where Katniss and Peeta never go to the games.

I'm tagging these three incredible and talented writers to continue our challenge.

@mollywog @nightlocked-in @rainymyx

title:

The streak of luck.

A tide of luck had swept over me the last few weeks. Spring is always the best time of year to find things in the woods, but this year I outdid myself. I found two bee hives full of honey. It was very painful and I spent days recovering from the bee stings, but I managed to bring two bags full of honeycombs to sell on the rob. Honey is a rare item in district twelve, so it made me a lot of money.

I think that since spring began, there hasn't been a day that goes by that I don't come home with something to sell with. From juicy wild berries to Turkeys, swallows and wild dogs. I've been finding things more valuable lately.

This month, we had the luxury of spending more stuff than just on food. I was able to buy new boots for Prim, cold coat for me and a supply of oils for my mother to make ointments and resell.

And in the end there was still money left. So I bought a sewing thread and a needle. I grabbed my mother's old white dress from the back of the closet. She and Prim did all the repairs for me. Then I took my dress to Hazelle and paid her a good amount to wash it. She asked me for bleach, to remove the yellow stains from age and mold. Then she asked me for violet fabric paint. It was difficult to find something like that on the black market, it ended costing me a whole rabbit.

I was afraid it would turn my dress purple, but she said that the dye mixed in hot water removes all the yellow stains and makes the dress white like never before.

She was right. It was so beautiful it looked like I had bought it brand new.

As I get older and become more and more like my mother, her dress looks more and more like it was made out for me. The straight cut at the collar makes my long neck - which Peeta praises so much - stand out. The long sleeves hide my thin arms. The tight waist makes it my hips look more accentuated than they actually are. It's a simple dress, it looks like a nightgown. However, its fabric is so elegant that I look like a bride from the big city.

My mom puts my hair in a low bun and Prim makes a lavender flower crown to match spring.

The shoes I will wear are a problem. I only have my beat-up hunting boots and old school shoes. None suit the occasion. My mother's shoes are beautiful, but they are so tight on me. I refuse to spend the whole afternoon limping.

There is a third option, which I don't like very much. There are the shoes I used to wear at the reaping. The last time I wore them I was 19 years old, two years ago. This blue heels are so old they look gray.

I wish I had thrown them away, but you can never waste resources like that. Shoes are expensive. Even if they don't bring back good memories, they are still valuable. My mother cleans them and rubs them with lard to make them shiny. I feel weird, but it's my best option at the moment.

So here I am, dressed like a spring bride. And there he is, dressed like a merchant groom. Waiting for me at the door of the Justice Building.

He has combed his hair back and applied gel to keep the curls in place. A perfectly ironed white shirt, black pants with a silver buckle belt and a brown suit over everything, which make his shoulders pointy. He's perfect. On his feet are also his reaping shoes.

“You look so beautiful." he says.

“You too." I reply.

Then we link our arms and wait until they call us. I feel the heat radiating from Peeta. He doesn't usually get nervous, but today his forehead shines with sweat and he fixes his collar compulsively. So far I've counted five times in the last two minutes.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Oh, my brother lent me this shirt. It's itchy" He groans, awkwarly. I smile at him and he seems to relax.

There are several couples around us, waiting too. Everyone wants to get married in the spring.

Many young women in white. Some with lacy and chic dresses, others with old and yellowed, but all the same holding the hands of their lovers. The young men, one exhausted by work, one covered in coal dust, and another with elegant blue suits and shiny shoes.

We are all there, waiting to get to our turn.

When the door finally opens the old man calls out "Thompson" in a deep voice.

Then a couple enters, the girl with a veil and a garland and the boy with a leather hat. The two are shaking with so much excitement, they are completely in love. Still too young to free themselves from the burden of the Hunger Games. It's not good luck marry before you're 19. So I sigh, and wish them good luck on next summer.

After a few minutes, the couple leaves smiling and receives a round of applause from their family members who are waiting for them outside.

Then the man screams again "Greenwood".

An older, handsome boy, next to him is a blonde girl in a flashy dress. They are accompanied by their parents, elegant merchants. I start stomping my feet anxiously. I want to end the waiting once and for all. After a couple long minutes, they finally leave the building and when I least expect it the man is shouting for "Mellark". I head towards him as if he were calling my own name.

My witness is my mother, I wanted it to be Prim, but she is still a minor. Peeta's witness is his middle brother. He seems a little uncomfortable being there, but he pats Peeta on the back to encourage him.

“Mrs. Everdeen and Mr. Mellark, is it of their own free will that you both meet here today to be united in matrimony?” says the old man.

“Yes.” Peeta said vigorous.

“Yes.” I said in sequence, quieter revealing my nervousness.

Peeta takes my hand gently and squeezes it with his sweaty palm.

I thought I was calm until this moment, now I'm sure I'm terrified. While that old man talks boring things about marriage and laws and the importance of family I get lost in Peeta's flush face. His lips are tight and raised in a restrained smile. I feel my heart skip a beat.

When the man stops talking we each receive a pen. Peeta leans over the thick book first, writing “Peeta Mellark” in cursive. Then it's my turn, my hands shake and I sigh, before finally putting the ink on the paper.

I start with the "K" of my name, with a less sophisticated calligraphy than Peeta's. Now my tremor is visible to everyone around me. Peeta's eyes are the heaviest on me, they make me blush.

“How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?” I sigh. He giggles and looks away as I write "Mellark." My new last name.

[matsuyorific]

Happy Holidays KaijuusandKryptids, I'm your Secret Santa!

Since you said Chloe was your favorite character, I figured I'd give her a bit of a glow up. This is what I imagine she might look like after moving to New York post Season 5. Now more than ever, your girl is rocking that Queen Bee vibe. Complete with a 24 karat gold bee necklace, and honeycomb belt buckle.

@kaijuusandkryptids @mlsecretsanta

[the-starry-seas]

behold, my stuff

aka Snack Squad picrews, so named because I was hungry at the time and also they're all snacks

Bee, CT-2881, he/they. Honeycomb-and-bee tattoo on the back of his neck, with the honeycomb pattern extending down across the back of his shoulders to about halfway down his waist, and a smaller bee for each of his squadmates. Wears reading glasses and has a mole under his right eye.

Indigo, CT-3717, he/him.

Jewel, CT-4322, zhi/zhir. Battalion number and squad name tattooed at zhir left temple, and painted on zhir helmet in the same place. Dyes zhir hair brown.

Nebula, CS-4642, xy/xyr. A small red heart tattoo outlined in black behind xyr right ear. The tattoo is replicated in the same place on xyr helmet.

Silver, CT-7293, he/him. Has his name written across the back of his helmet in glittery silver cursive and a flame pattern along the breath filters. Has Sky's name tattooed on the back of his neck in sky blue letters.

Sky, CT-7292, he/him. Has his name written across the back of his helmet in sky blue cursive and a flame pattern in the same colour along the breath filters. Has Silver's name tattoed on the back of his neck in silver letters.

Star, CT-7145, he/him. Small scar up the left side of his nose. Small yellow star painted on the buckle of his belt. Don't mind the Sith eyes.

Sunny, CT-6778, xe/xer. Xeir hair is dyed neon orange. A small line of stylized suns (orange outlined in red) tattooed in a line from xeir chin to the hollow of xeir throat, and to either side just above xeir collarbones, as well as a black outline of the same sun tattooed over xeir left eye. A stylized sun is painted on xeir helmet in the same place that the outline tattoo is.

Winter, CC-1404, he/him. Greying hair and grey beard. Seven small dots tattooed down the back of his neck in the colours of the agender flag. A line of white snowflakes tattooed down each of his shoulders, five on each side, one for each of them including Winter himself.

Zenith, CT-5640, ey/em. The braid is dyed brown for eir squad and tied with a bright orange hair tie to match Sunny. Jaig eyes tattooed over eir heart. Usually found wearing a green vest that has a million pockets. Jaig eyes on eir helmet in the same green as eir vest.

[alex-wire-mesh]

304 Honeycomb Wire Belt

304 honeycomb wire belt is a type of conveyor belt constructed from high-quality stainless steel wire. This wire belt features a unique honeycomb structure, with individual wires interwoven to form a robust and flexible mesh.

304 Honeycomb Wire Belt Key Features and Benefits 1. High-quality material The belt is crafted from AISI 304 stainless steel, known for its excellent corrosion resistance and durability. 2. Versatile design Its structure allows for smooth movement, making it suitable for applications that require gentle handling of delicate products or heavy-duty transport of robust materials. 3. Excellent heat transfer Its open mesh design facilitates efficient heat dissipation, making it ideal for processes that involve high-temperature applications, such as baking or drying. 4. Easy cleaning and maintenance Its flat surface of the belt and the absence of hinges or joints simplify cleaning, ensuring hygienic operation and reducing downtime for maintenance. 5. Customizable options The belt can be customized with various belt widths, wire gauges, and edge reinforcements to meet specific application requirements.

Food Processing Used in baking ovens, cooling tunnels, and food conveying systems, ensuring efficient and sanitary transportation of baked goods, snacks, fruits, vegetables, and more.

Industrial Processing Suitable for heat treatment processes, annealing furnaces, washing systems, and other applications that require high-temperature resistance, easy cleaning, and reliable conveying.

Electronics and Automotive Utilized in electronics assembly lines, circuit board production, and automotive component manufacturing, ensuring smooth and reliable transport of delicate components and parts.

Glass and Ceramics Applied in glass tempering lines, ceramics kilns, and other processes that involve high-temperature applications, providing reliable transport without damage to fragile products.

Packaging and Distribution Used in packaging lines and distribution centers to facilitate the movement of boxes, cartons, and packaged goods efficiently and smoothly.

[guinevere01]

My first artfight attack of the year! Bumble, an OC from @theartsyhognose

ID: pixel art of Bumble, a bee-inspired fairy. Ze has dark skin, a pair of translucent fairy wings, and short curly hair that's shades of yellow at the top and black at the shaved sides. She's wearing a golden yellow sports bra, a pair of black shorts with a golden belt and a rough bottom edge, thights with a star pattern, and yellow sneakers. Zeir arms are outstretched in a relaxed, open pose, her left arm to the side and up, and her right arm down. Ze is looking down along the line of her right arm. The background is honeycomb coloured with alternating squares of dithered pixels, with light yellow dots at the points of the squares. End ID

You can find Bumble's character profile here (link)

And you can find my Artfight profile below

[jodjuya]

Coming to Harvest Moon from Stardew Valley is certainly an interesting experience.

Trying out 'Tale of Two Towns'. Never played any Harvest Moon titles before now, but I've got a couple hundred Stardew hours under my belt.

I'm tickled pink that you can accost the wildlife. It's just so funny being able to snatch up a random duck from the river and then yeet it at a bear while it (the duck) is busy making anger emotes at you. 🤣

I'm sad you can't steal the wildlife though. Can't put a duck in my pocket. 😭

But I can put a boulder as big as my oversized chibi head into my pocket just fine. I guess boulders don't fight back as hard as waterfowl do...

I hit "save draft" on this post, and THIS is the very first thing I see on my dash. How serendipitous. 🤣

It's so funny that the farmer responds to all dialogue with a musical note. My man out here whistling and beeping like R2-D2. Non-verbal King.

Only a single turnip seed to start my farming career with. At least they gave me a ripe field to harvest right off the bat...

But I don't get paid from the shipping bin right away, so I have no cash to buy seeds. Probably should have tried to sell my crops directly to a store. Is that possible I wonder...

I enjoy how much sheer mobility this farmer has. Goes up and down these mountains leaping over every obstacle like he's Super Mario

Catching lots of insects on my walk. Wonder if I can sell them in the shipping bin... 🤔

Found bamboo. Wonder if I can feed a wild panda with it... 🤔

I leveled up via picking up grasshoppers and putting them into my pocket 😂

Haha, I can sell all of the insects I picked up, and the fish and crabs I caught with my bare hands. Excellent!

Ah! So all my other starter seeds were just in the storage chest! Hooray!

Did leveling up actually do anything to my character? Do I have statistics or something? 🤔

The goddess of vegetables: "you're now on a Mission From God to win the monthly cooking competition!"

Grrr. There are message board requests for literally every single thing I gathered on the mountain yesterday and then shipped for cash... 🤦🏻‍♂️

Oh well, at least I got $3k out of it and can put that cash towards seeds...

The seed shop is closed on Tuesdays... Eat a bag of dicks, old man... 😒

Dr Ayame is a dominatrix.

Having the Town Hall give you directions to different people's houses is a feature I FUCKING LOVE!

Oh okay wow, fertilizers do not work how I expected!

Found some honeycomb. It says to "put it into a hive to get honey". Where do I get a hive from? 🤔

I really really really REALLY wish my stupid farmer would stop reeling in shock every time I make him do hard work. Stop interrupting my furrows you stupid piece of shit!

[lavendersartistry]

The Survivors

Among the heretics are child survivors, saved by most of the critters and CatNap during the Hour of Joy.

Since the Safe House is structured under the Home Sweet Home mansion, a lot of resources within the area are used to make the Safe House feel like a better home for the children.

Children are assigned to 1 or 2 BBI experiment and have a specific accessory to define which children is connected to which critter.

Smiling Critters:

Bobby Bearhug - Rose/Heart necklace

Bubba Bubbaphant - Book charm bracelet

CraftyCorn - Rainbow headband

DogDay - Sun charm bracelet

Hoppy Hopscotch - Green lightning bolt leg warmers

KickinChicken - Star bandanna

PickyPiggy - Apple charm bracelet

[ There is nothing for CatNap. ]

Magical Zoo:

Eve Ewe - Lotus charm bracelet

Dee Dragonette - Dragon horn headband

SillySquirrel - Spiral necklace

Wally Webbs - Spiderweb backpack

[ There is nothing for Ginger K. ]

Bolt - Stormy cloud bandanna

Zuri - Fake pearl bracelet

Perfect Pets:

Lovely Lady - Light blue bows

Danny Doberman - Spiked headband

Clara Cowbell - Bell attached to belt

Insect Friends:

Betty Bumblebee - Honeycomb charm bracelet

Barbie Bumblebee - Bumblebee necklace

Molly Mantis - Cherry Blossom backpack

Flora Faerie - Fake fairy wings

Ladie - Ladybug backpack

Anty Ant - [Favorite Food] charm bracelet

The children are not allowed out of the Safe House unless with one or more of the heretics.

All children are given a series of fake names to be called by if they go out of the Safe House with a heretic so no enemies are able to know their true identity.

All children are partnered up with a sane mini critters as a pet companion.

[pigeonwhumps]

Bug and company masterlist

Bug's 18 when they're handed over to BetterPets by their foster parents, going through various owners and sets of training before being freed for good. This is their life, and that of those they've touched.

Contains: BBU, pet whump, lady whump, disabled whumpee

CWs: BBU, pet whump

Character intros

Bug

Bill, Shaniqua, and 726E/Fido/Charlie

Alix and Mary

O, 493/Honeycomb/Maria, the dog/Max, and Sarita

Michaela, Jane, and Oscar

Brett

Writing

Drop-off (Bug, Bill)

Contract 1 (Bug, Bill)

Contract 2 (Bill, Shaniqua, Charlie)

Contract 3 (Bug, Shaniqua)

Demonstration (Maria)

Belt (Charlie, Brett)

Soft/weighted blanket drabble (Bug, Alix)

Max and Maria (Max, Maria, Anita, Theo)

O (O, Alix, Bug)

The Safehouse (Sarita)

Betrayal (Sarita)

Sarita (Sarita, Maria, Alix)

The Talk (Sarita, Alix)

Sarita and Oscar (Sarita, Oscar)

Friend, lost (Sarita, Oscar)

Extras

BetterPets handler's manual

Character asks

Bug

ൠ - random headcanon

Theo and Anita have their own series, available here.