#I feel like I have an itch I can't scratch :/

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

tomorrow is my first day back to work and I'm a lil nervous

I haven't been able to get anything written for here bc I've been trying to get a couple other things written (updating my Bill Cipher redemption fic and starting a Gyutaro x reader x Daki because I make poor life choices)

but I'm on light duty for a month, basically just sitting at the register checking people out, unable to do any stocking or anything bc I'm not allowed to lift anything over 15 pounds so I can't lift totes, bend much, or reach much, so I'm allowed to bring something to do in between customers... maybe I'll get some writing done? I feel as if I'll be slacking off bc that's how my brain works

but you know what, I kill myself for that store normally, I don't work full time simply because I can't afford medical insurance if I did, but even working only part time I give my all while I'm there, I'm not someone who slacks off. so if I'm healthfully and approvedly permitted to slack off and take it easy for a month, I guess I'll take it (... plus, I mean, I'll still be working, just light duty, it's not like I'll show up and get paid to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, I'm still gonna be ringing out customers)

ANYWAY MY POINT IS-

get those last requests in! after I get home from work tomorrow, I'll be closing the askbox and won't open it back up till this batch is finished and I swear I mean that this time 😂

[triglycercule]

more swapinverse posting i think its funny how even in swapinverse the mtt STILL dont eat food. someone could be like "hey what's your favorite food" and paranoia just turns away trying to hold back bile. savior would just say he has no need and then mania would just blink and say he hasnt eaten in years (but it's supposed to be ketchup or something right??? right!!!)

still cursed to live terrible lives even in another universe 💔💔💔

[sciderman]

we need to see more non dp spidey pairings

just read the comics man! they're everywhere!

(also, please, be the change you want to see in the world, anon.)

[yoiku]

I am getting so tired of having to check everything new for AI shit. Sometimes its hard to notice or find out (if it's not just art) and so often I dont even think to check. A new game comes out and seems fun, you buy it and learn a few days later that the main dev/devs are apparently advocates for using AI for just about anything. I'm tired. I don't want to have to go through this shit so often.

[abandoned-as-mustard]

why don't we talk about miscarriages more? i'm not convinced it's something that anyone really gets over. it's the mourning of a literal person without any of the closure. the baby wasn't even mine, but i still think about them every day and how cool it would fucking be to just have a new person around by now.

[tinylilvalery]

Non eczema sufferers will literally NEVER understand.

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A drawing of two scavengers from Rain World, one labelled Sanic and the other one Shrek. Sanic's fur is light brown, with darker extremities, a messy row of pale green spines down its back, and bright blue eyes. They sit contentedly, staring at the screen, with a couple grenades by its feet. Shrek has pale fur, a green head, hands, and feet, and brown eyes. It's facing to the right, with their arms splayed out and an explosive spear on their back. Beside each scavenger are a few woefully-compressed screencaps of their in-game appearance. End ID]

An ode to these silly beasts, who accompanied me on my second visits to Industrial and Chimney

[sweetdreamspootypie]

Fucked around (tried to find the non existent archived chat log on FB messenger with my ex) and found out (why did I do that)

[hobbitunderthemountain]

I WANT TO BE INSANE ABOUT SOMETHING

instead i will probably just go to bed

[nyarados]

keep seeing photo comps of 2000s elementary school life and they literally make me feel sick like screaming crying throwing up etcetc

[nostalgia-tblr]

people seem to have stopped posting sylki oneshots so now i have to move some of those up my stalled writing queue because i know i'd be getting driven mad by that if i was keeping up with ao3 at the moment.

[catcatb0y]

Biting and chewing I wanna buy a specific commission rn but I can't afford too because I'm dumb and also all of the artists who would take commissions are busy because of the holidays and I can't do an art trade because I'M busy because of the holidays.

[kerosene-saint]

this just in I am randomly getting sand flea bites from somewhere and we don't know where

[t00thpasteface]

webfishing is such a breath of fresh air honestly. i feel like every vaguely "cozy" title wants to be minecraft or animal crossing or stardew valley, but the bloat of all the obligatory timesink systems has been smothering the joy of the low-stakes open-ended lollygagging. i can never just hang out in games like that, because everything is locked behind so many layers of heirloom mechanics included purely for trendiness (via blind imitation of the big name games) and not because they actually improve the gamefeel or streamline the gameplay loop. i can't just play ten minutes of a game like that because those ten minutes are gonna damage my tools/armor or run down a timer or use up a crafting resource or some other chain reaction of unfun grinding garbage.

meanwhile, webfishing has no crafting, no survival, no item breakage, no stamina meter, no food meter, no jumpscares... the physics-defying out-of-bounds void area doesn't beat you over the head with the creepypasta shlock and mostly just exists as a fun convenient hangout spot to catch basically every fish in... and best of all there's insane griefing potential (meowing/barking, punching people into the water to drown them, playing guitar badly, drawing stupid shit all over the ground at spawn) yet zero consequences for actually getting griefed. if someone drowns you it literally does not affect you for longer than like five seconds.

also you can buy scratch offs and get drunk. i really appreciate that. i dislike the way a lot of cozy games seem to be stuck in a kid friendly tone owing to their origins in E and E10+ games/websites, only ever vaguely referring to adult topics, even while being marketed heavily towards nostalgic adults who grew up on the original ds or played a lot of neopets. just because i want a simple gameplay style doesn't mean i want to be babied; i want the simplicity because i'm an adult with realass adult responsibilities and don't have time/energy to grind, not because i'm still mentally ten years old and blanche at mature topics. and so i really appreciate the way webfishing will scratch that itch for "wild world if it was just fishing and able sisters" while also letting you have bloodshot eyes, wear a hat that says "i love peeing", and then blow all your money on beer and scratch offs. like honestly truly who else is doing it like webfishing

[tigorrrr]

𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲 || prompt::sitting close together, touching each other

Ship(?): Diya x Baraka

Rated: mature

Warnings: blood, open wounds/holes, blood kink (?), off-canon, I'd say teratophilia but Diya can't be a licensed monsterfucker 'cuz Bara' ain’t a monster in her book 🤍

           When the curtain of night fell upon the group, that's when the Lin Kuei Kunoichi got concerned about one of their teammates that have been gone for two hours or so in his tent.

           She understood the importancy of privacy but she sometimes forgets not to cross over their shade because all she wishes to do is help. And after she had tested the water with where she stands with him, when he so vulnerably let her get close, she didn't want to get distanced unless she can't help it.

           Diya had been fascinated by Baraka since she saw him, a member of their 'adventure' group and a fellow prison mate for a while.

           He was tall - taller than her at least, with broad shoulders and a ruggedly handsome face - even though the half of it was scarred and deformed. Shriveled up to the raw muscle from his mouth up to his cheeks and enlarged talon-like teeth filled in the space.

           Tarkat was and still is quite nasty, but it didn't stop her from feeling some kind of attraction towards Baraka.

           His personality was a charm on its own. Baraka has years of life experience and it showed. Tarkat, no matter how contagious and how much the symptoms may be gruesome, he has excersised his mind and body around it. Adapting to the new him.

           As a medic, Diya had to take care of her responsibilities first. Her Earthrealm friend Kenshi needed more attention than before, to his annoyance, and she understood it. Most men hate to be taken care of like the weakest child. All three of her older brothers made the same fuss about any kind of injury that she have had treated.

           She treated Kenshi by the campfire while the others were preparing the tents. His world was suddenly plunged into eternal darkenss, Diya's heart ached for his. Being able to see all your life to suddenly lose your sight is the biggest torture than if one is born that way, althought they are equally as horrifying to lose one of the important senses.

           "I- I'll be okay for now...!" Kenshi protested against her care, tipping his head to be somewhat out of reach. "This is not necessary!"

           "Darling," Diya's sweet tone took a low dip to sound stern. "It will get infected if you won't let me clean it. I already gave you something for pain, if you worry it will hurt too much."

           A low laughter turned both their heads Johnny's direction, the american strutted over to his buddy and added small twigs into the fire before sitting beside them. "I'd watch out Kenshi, just because you don't see the stern nurse's face doesn't mean it isn't there."

           Kenshi would so love to roll his eyes along with Diya at his friend right now, but alas, he cannot.

           When wet cotton dabbed underneath his eye he drew back his whole upper body with a hiss. It didn't hurt but it took Kenshi by suprise.

           "Was für ein Kind..." Diya tutted softly, her hand already had a grasp on his coat's collar to thrust him back forward. Kenshi didn't fight the medic on duty but he wasn't pleased about it either.

           Johnny's brows rose until it wrinkled his forehead. "Wait- wait. You speak English, Japanese, Chinese and now German?"

           Diya smiled while working on cleaning her comrade's wounds without stabbing his already stabbed eyes since he's refusing to stay still. "And a little bit of French and Czech, too." she added, pride swelling her chest before she exhaled it to concentrate on her task.

           Whistling was how the actor expressed his impression. He likes pretty girls with pretty, smart brains.

           "I don't know how you do that. A few people can be multilingual."

           "I guess I'm on top with very few, darling." Diya smirked impishly and the way she shot it at Johnny briefly had made him at a loss for words, he could only grin in return.

           Kenshi's long exhale made his tiredness of being the third wheel between these two, he couldn't understand how he ended on that spot when those two have their back-and-forth. He grunted softly when he felt a familiar cloth press against the bridge of the nose before it was tied at the back of his head.

           "Now, as your doctor, I order you to go rest." with gentle pats on her patient's shoulder Diya stood from her knees and cleaned her dirtied thighs.

           When Johnny took his friend's offered hand to get Kenshi on his feet, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Shouldn't it be recommended?"

           "Nope~" Diya cooed and put her hands against her lower back, watching Johnny lead his blind friend to the nearest tent.

           She's glad Kenshi has someone in his time of need.

           Diya decided to take a stroll around the camping ground as soon as everyone settled. As she wandered around, admiring the beauty of her surroundings, she stumbled upon Baraka's tent and remembered she'd wished to pay him a visit before retrieving to her own bedroll... with hope that she would lay in someone else's that night instead.

           The unsureness of how to approach didn't stop her from nearing the current residence for tonight of Baraka's.

           Her hand stalled in the air as soon as it gripped the sheet when pained, growly grunts was what she heard coming from inside. Diya strained her ears to hear more, but the longer she waited the more her suspicion had her tip her toes in the cold water of anxiety.

           Curiosity finally getting the best of her, she quietly lifted the sheet and she peeked inside.

           What she saw made her heart skip a beat and then jump in her throat at the same time.

           Baraka was standing in the middle of the tent with his side view profile facing the entrance, bloodied and sweaty, equally as bloody spikes with pieces of meat and skin at his feet, his face contorted in pain.

           Then, Diya could hear the squelching of raw muscle tissue and skin, as he began to tear something from his forearm.

           A sickly crunch followed and another small boney apex hit the ground with the rest of the spikes. Because Baraka had to go deep for this little spike, it was painful and he epressed it by repressed, throaty growls.

           Diya gasped, a little delayed because of her stupor but the thud grounded her, the sharp inhale that came from her lips was barely audible, her widened eyes furrowed and scrunched in concern.

           As she stood there, frozen in shock, Baraka's eyes met hers when he turned to the nearly silent sound of breathing. The pain and determination in his eyes was replaced with a hint of embarrassment.

           In that moment, Diya realized that she was not supposed to see this, neither were others. Baraka wanted time for himself to let his guard down while working on his private issue before returning back to socialize.

           "What are you doing here?!" he demaned her to answer tone lowered and it made him hiss through his mouthfull of teeth, he was nearly panic-stricken — for how long did she stood there? Did someone else saw him?

           Now that he turned completely Diya's eyes fell upon the sight of his bare chest and limbs covered in bloody holes, wearing nothing but his trousers that had not been spared from the crimson liquid.

           Diya immediately rushed inside, gaze focused only on his wounds. "Darling— Why? How much does it hurt?!" she piled him with questions, her voice filled with worry while she pulled out her clean cotton handkerchief to dab at the rivers of blood on his chest.

           Baraka watched the ivory hands tenderly work and place on his glistening skin, as the crimson substance coated her fingers then the rest of her hand his jaw grew taut and it became harder to swallow.

           Blood looked appetizing on her skin.

           He had to hold back his elongated tongue in his mouth as it hankered to caress her hand up to her wrist until it would be clean pearl-colored flesh again.

           Baraka tore himself from her body heat and with his bloodied clothes he sat down on his bedroll, trying to dissolve those nasty, invading thoughts.

                                                                  It would scare her away...

           "I...I did not want you to see this mess." Baraka avoided her gaze as he tried to process how he should confess, staring at his lap.

           Without hesitation she joined him, sat right by his side and again left so little space between their bodies.

           "But why would you even do this to yourself?" Diya searched his gaze for answers, hand carefully placed on his inked bicep and her palm and fingers spread around the chissled muscle, avoiding the gaping holes but accidentally smearing more blood across his flesh.

           He held his breath, savoring her caresses, and very slowly exhaled through his nostril. "... You are keen on touching me and I didn't want to risk stabbing you."

           "Oh, Baraka..."

           Diya's airy exhale was too close to his pointy ear, it made him ever-so-slightly shiver and his spine to straighten.

           Baraka has no idea when but she already had the front of her body glued to his side, her bent knees dug into his thighs. Painted nails tenderly raked over the lines of bleak black deep under his skin, silently marveling at the artistic piece.

           He was about to face her but the contact of his temple against her forehead prevent him to do so, Diya was so close yet so far from his reach to hold her properly as any consistent lover should and she still deserved much more attentiveness.

           "You're so solicitous, ダーリン." Diya cooed, lips against his jagular vein, feeling for his spiking pulse.

           Baraka's breathing turned raspier when her praise replayed in the hippocampus, he needed to double check, make sure he heard right. His blemished facial features still tinted with the redish flush. He could only respond with grunts that huffed hot air from his enlarged mouth against her pale lashes, making her flutter her eyelids like wings of a butterfly and tickle the underside of his jaw.

           Diya's hands, ever so curious, stroked each side of his right arm up to his knuckles drenched in blood, she wasn't squeamish to get her hands dirty. When travelling over the holes with extra carefulness, Baraka didn't flinch an inch, to her inner relief.

           When the small hands cupped at his on top of his lap, fingers knead at the inside of his palm, Baraka was close to moaning. Diya cuddled closer, upper leg hooking over his above the patella and he welcomed the weight and her body heat like a weighted blanket.

           It was beginning to be quite tempting to pull Diya over him, at his lap, into his arms, for her to lay on top of him. Baraka wanted all of it at once. Yet, he didn't give in. His sanity could succumb into the unpredictable need of yearning, Baraka's not ready to risk it, who knows what... violently affectionate being he could turn into.

           Under the blanket of the night with no worry about tomorrow, in the privacy of this tent, just the two of them — this could be one of the very few, if any at all, opportunities they could take advantage of. Right here, right now.

           And she's only waiting for him to make up his mind.

           "Touch me?" Diya's enticing request carried a peck, two, from his throat to his jaw where she could reach.

           It loosened his fear that gripped at him, now he can't hurt her unless he'd want to. It made him that much eager and indecisive with where to start.

           Baraka freed himself from her bloody paws to have something to lean against, the freed hand rested just behind her back and rubbing over her hip. The contact over her clothes made Diya feel like it left a scorching print on her bare flesh, it sent excited shivers down her spine.

           "Gladly." Baraka throatily rumbled, as if purring with delight.

[bi-writes]

I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon

mail-order bride

reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+

simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.

when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.

but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.

a pretty girl.

he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.

but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.

simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).

when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.

and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).

it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.

"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.

one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--

"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."

bloody fuckin' christ.

your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.

"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"

instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.

you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.

he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.

he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.

you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.

"we shouldn't," he mutters.

"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--

you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.

"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"

"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.

he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.

holy fucking shit--

"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"

"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.

"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"

"shit--"

you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.

he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.

your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.

"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.

"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."

"w-wha--! simon!"

you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.

but when you laugh, he does, too.