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[something-about-sunflowers]

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[bixbythemartian]

Hey guys. I meant to get this started earlier, but thanks to some generous people who donated extra, as well as my dear people who are subscribed to send me money monthly, I got a little ahead on bills and could put this off. Dealing with the passing of my dog has been pretty rough on me, the respite from having to do that was greatly appreciated. But it's that time where I ask for help with my monthly bills and groceries.

If you're new here or are seeing this outside of my blog, my name is Bix, I'm a writer. I put out this poem fairly recently, which I think is pretty good, and my Time Travel and YOU short is actually really popular right now, but if you've read one thing of mine and nothing else, odds are good that it was the Daycare Worker at the End of the World.

I'm also disabled, I can't work. So what I'm asking for is if you've got a couple of bucks to spare, if you could pass them my way. I know it's the holiday season and everybody's budget is getting tight, but a single dollar helps. Sharing also helps big time, it helps people find me, and people see this post. Some of my writing is really well known, but I'm not associated with it, so simply sharing this can help me a ton.

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[for-a-longlongtime]

Guilty Pleasure (3/7) - dbf!Joel x reader

Sunday dinner with your parents and Joel is... weird. But also hot.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 42), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy' (no real daddy kink), outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 1.7K A/N: I told you part III would follow soon! I had initially planned this for tomorrow, but then I figured I might as well turn dinner with da-- I mean, dinner into a Sunday meal, because why not. 😈 Thank you so much to everybody who has been commenting, reblogging (I appreciate you sharing it with others!!) and liking this fic so far! Things get messy today... let me know what you think. Is reader playing this right, or...?

< part 2 | series masterlist | main masterlist

Surprisingly, it's Joel who is late for Sunday dinner.

Not your father; he’s home early even, looking tired and stressed but trying to put on a front - which is far from the first time you’ve seen him do so. When you were younger, you once asked your mom why he never was more upfront about having hard days. Since he frequently appeared on tv to talk about new ventures or collaborations, you knew that his work wasn’t exactly easy breezy, but whenever you had asked him about it as a kid, he would brush off those concerns. “Somebody’s gotta do it,” or “I’ve got the experience to pull it off”, or any corny variation of that. 

You used to love joining him at his office, something you got away with when you were still in primary school - which you realized later probably had to do with the sizable annual donations your father made to your school. Either way, it was exciting. The massive building where he worked, the technology, all those people looking extremely important in their outfits, swiping access cards in order to get into secure areas, so many meeting rooms, and not to forget the press room. You were in awe, determined to work there when you’d grow up, to follow in your father’s footsteps.

Until things came crashing down. 

The missed plays, PTA meetings, and staying up late weren’t so bad initially. What started bothering you the most was how everybody seemed to give him a pass. Most of all your grandmother. She spoke about how your grandfather used to be in charge, many years before your father took over, and how good he was. How your father was so much like him. Responsible, in charge, a leader, ‘such a good man’. 

And see - that was the problem. Because no matter how well you did at school or with the things you loved to do, it always felt like you were merely in his shadow. You’d never be respected the way he is - because you weren’t like him, or them, which everybody seemed to expect. 

So you decided to not care. Absolutely zero fucks. You didn’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. You were going to do whatever you wanted to do. 

This summer, that meant doing Joel. A lot, preferably.

Joel, sitting at the table with you and your parents, looking all broad in his green flannel, almost having missed dinner this evening - which of course you would’ve gotten shit for if it had happened to you. “Issues at the construction site, damn Tommy couldn’t handle it on his own,” he grouses as your dad puts a beer in his hand, while your mom assures him it is no problem. 

Aside from Joel being so damn distracting with his presence, it’s weird to all be seated at the dinner table on a Sunday. It’s not just that this hadn’t happened since you moved home for the summer; it actually was something that hadn’t happened in many years. While your father is talking to Joel about his work day, you get up and wander over to the fridge to grab a beer, grateful for the hoppy refreshment as it hits your taste buds. Liquor would be better, but this will do for now. You watch your parents and Joel talk, not even being aware of you having stepped away from the table. You finish the rest of the beer and put the empty bottle aside, then grab a new one from the fridge to take back to the table. 

The drink helps you feel a little more comfortable in your own skin, tune out the chatter that you’re not too interested in, and rather take advantage of the opportunity to watch Joel. Perhaps his mouth and hands in particular, as you imagine them on you, feeling that stubble against your own decidedly softer skin; your cheek, or between your thighs, or elsewhere. He doesn’t seem too aware of your eyes on him, talking with your mom about some pergola or something. 

Meanwhile, your father does seem to be paying attention to you, which almost catches you by surprise. But unsurprisingly it takes just a couple of moments until he’s irritating you again. “Were you able to stop by at the DMV to get your license sorted out?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ll get it done, just let it go - okay?,” you sigh, annoyed that he’s bringing it up for the fourth time in a few weeks. “A rideshare to the nearest one is just so expensive. If I could just use mom’s car…”

Your mom pauses her conversation with Joel as she shakes her head. “Without a license? I don’t think so,” she says resolutely. “You’d better figure it out, because I don’t have any time soon to take you over there.”

“Now there’s a shocker,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head when your father’s voice cuts sharp as he asks if there’s a problem. “No, there’s no problem. I’ll take the damn Uber, if I can….”

“I can take you. Tomorrow afternoon.” Joel’s voice barely interrupts you as he doesn’t lift his eyes from his plate, spearing a little cherry tomato with his fork. “Will that make you stop whining? Need to stop at Home Depot after, though.”

The comment thrills you unexpectedly, though that is tempered a lot by the grin you see on your father’s face, no doubt because of the whining comment Joel made. Asshole. “Can’t make any promises,” you respond breezily. “I’m good company in the car though, as long as I control the aux.”

Joel almost snorts at that, shaking his head. “Over my dead body, kiddo.”

*Kiddo*. It stings, you realize, as you hold on tight to your second beer that’s already half empty, your fingers pressing too hard on the chilly glass. You thought that you two had moved past that now - that being around him, and admittedly dropping some not so subtle cues, would have made it clear to him that you are anything but a kid. 

“Well, you’re getting up there in age just like he is,” you say much too casually, leaning back in your chair as you take a long drink of your beer while you nod at your father. “So maybe that won’t be that long from now?”

Your mom hisses your name immediately, looking mortified, but Joel isn’t bothered one bit as he continues to eat his dinner. Meanwhile your dad remains quiet, but the look on his face speaks volumes. You give him a challenging look in return, then finish your beer as you get up from the table again. “Who else wants another drink?”

“I think you’ve had enough for now.” Your father speaks as he takes off his glasses, rubbing his temple as if he feels a headache coming on. “Just finish your food.” You consider ignoring his comment or pushing back some more, but then you get momentarily distracted as the kitchen lights seem to flicker.

“I’m headed out tomorrow at 10 am,” Joel suddenly interrupts your thoughts, now finally looking at you as he reaches for his glass of water. “Don’t be late.”

“For you? Never.” You manage to not bat your lashes as you sit back down and continue your dinner, but your dad is still looking not too amused. He’s easy to ignore though, and as you chew you listen with half an ear to what your mom is saying about some party. It’s not long before your eyes wander back to Joel again, wondering what you could say or do that actually would get under his skin. 

He’s sitting right across from you, and without thinking too much about it, you slip your right foot out of your sandal, slouching down a little in your chair. Your heart is racing as you try to calculate the odds of getting it right, but then in an opportune moment when your dad leans over to Joel to talk to him about something, you extend your leg under the table and check whether you can reach Joel’s leg with your bare foot.

When Joel pauses his conversation for a moment, seemingly to gather his words, you know that he most definitely feels your foot against his calf. His eyes flash to you for a quick second, and you innocently smile at him as you slowly run your foot up a little higher, to his knee, while considering how far you could slide it against his thigh without it being noticeable to anyone else.

Meanwhile your dad reaches for the bread basket between him and Joel, taking out a dinner roll, and your heart beats faster when you feel Joel’s leg twitch against your foot. “Could I have the bread basket, please?”, you ask your dad, who nods as he picks it up and hands it to you. 

You take the basket from him, picking one of the rolls - and as your dad looks over at your mom who is telling him something, you bring your glance back to Joel. He’s staring right at you now as you’re still rubbing your foot against the inside of his calf, and you see his throat work as he swallows.

“Thank you, Daddy.” 

Joel immediately flushes and clears his throat, shifting his chair back a little so your foot can’t reach him anymore, and he reaches for his water so fast that he almost knocks the glass over. You can’t help but giggle, sinking your teeth into the soft bread as you’re feeling pleased - so the man *does* have a weak spot. It just takes the right approach to hit it.

“Think I’m gonna go clean up from work,” he announces as he pushes his nearly empty plate back, giving your mom an apologetic look. “Been a long day. The food was so good, though.”

“The food’s wonderful.” Your dad nods in agreement as he takes the last bite of his bread. “Did you still want to hit up the gym?”, he asks Joel as he reaches for their plates as he gets up from the table. “I’ve got about an hour now before I need to head out again.”

You dig your nails deep into the palm of your hand under the table as you watch the men leave the room, your eyes following Joel’s every step. Fuck, he’s hard. Or at least has a semi in those jeans. It makes you feel giddy and accomplished, and you can’t wait to tell your friend about this latest development.

next: part 4 >

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Attention Everybody.

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Hopes And Fears - Part Two. (Wally Clark x Reader.)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3.1k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Death

Part One.

A/N: It’s finally here!! I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am that has it has taken me over a year to get part two out. I’m sure most of you are probably over waiting for it anyway but if you do fancy giving it a read, I really appreciate it and hope it was worth the excessively long wait. I’ve tagged everybody that asked for a part two!! Once again, I am so deeply sorry! Please forgive me!!

“I would like to begin by thanking everybody that is here today and for those who have reached out to our family in this incredibly difficult time. Your thoughts and prayers have been so comforting and a reminder of the impact that our beautiful daughter had on so many people.

How would I even begin to describe Y/N? She was truly the most special girl and I am so thankful that I was able to bring her into this world, even if she did have to leave it early. The years I got to spend with her, were the best of my life and nothing will ever compare to the bond that her and I shared. She was so kind, so generous and so loving. Never declining the opportunity to spend time with her family, even if it may have been the embarrassing thing to do. I know what it’s like to be a teenager and for her to put us first consistently was just one of her many great qualities.

Y/N was an honour roll student, a successful gymnast and dancer, as well as being captain of the Split River Cheerleaders. As a child, she had so much energy, to the point where we didn’t know what to do with her. After enrolling her in dance classes for the first time, she fell in love with the sport, gymnastics and cheerleading followed and I remember being so nervous that she would injure herself. However, when she stared up at me with those gleaming eyes, I couldn’t bring it in myself to say no. These were just a few of her passions and it was evident that this was where she felt at home anytime we watched her at competitions or rehearsals. No longer the shy little girl that used to hide behind my legs before her first day of school.

Our daughter was also a keen activist and did a lot of charity work, though most of you probably wouldn’t know that. She volunteered at the animal shelter on our block every weekend, which led to her rescuing countless animals over the years. Leaving us with not only a dog but three cats, a ferret, five rabbits, countless chickens and four rats. She also ran at least one marathon a year in order to raise money for numerous charities, and often donated supplies and food to women’s shelters around the state.

Our daughter was the most selfless person I know, always putting other before herself. She taught us a lot and made us better people. For which I’ll be eternally grateful.

We wish we could’ve stopped this, and that we could’ve had more time with her. We wish we could’ve watched her grow and sent her off to college. We wish we could’ve moved her into her first apartment and seen her get married, maybe even had grandchildren.

The pain we are experiencing right now is unlike any other. To lose a child is the most gut wrenching thing, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I would give anything to hold her in my arms one last time. To be able to tell her I love her one last time.

So please, if anybody has any information as to who did this to our precious girl, all I ask is that you share this with the police department. Please help us find the person responsible and allow us some closure and for Y/N to get justice. She didn’t deserve this. Thank you.”

My mother cries as she steps away from the podium, collapsing into the arms of my father. Tears silently roll down my face as I take in the scene, the heartbreak across their faces as they hold each other. Unable to contain the grief they’re feeling.

As the principal speaks, I watch the crowd. My friends trying their best to hide their sadness, teachers hold their heads down, struggling to understand how this could’ve happened, even some students I only knew in passing look as though they could burst into tears at any moment.

It’s a difficult thing to watch, your own memorial. I suppose I never thought about how other would react to my death before, it never crosses your mind as you assume you won’t be able to witness it. God, what I would give to be that naive again.

“Hi Split River, for those of you that don’t know me, I’m Abby. Y/N was, well is my best friend. We met when we were in kindergarten and from that day forward we’ve been inseparable.

Y/N was a very shy person, I’m sure most of you would describe her as an introvert. Fortunately, I was one of the few people she let into her life, breaking down the invisible barriers she built around herself and it was the greatest pleasure of my life.

We were total opposites and enjoyed different things but that didn’t matter. For example, Y/N hated theatre, she called it glorified pantomime, but she still attended every show I was in, she still helped me practice my lines and she still encouraged me to do what I loved even if she couldn’t stand it.

We had so many things we wanted to do together, we were going to share a dorm together at Parsons, she would major in fashion design and I would do photography. We’d take over the world as a duo, running our own magazine that I could star in, of course. All those dreams of ours have been ripped to shreds now and I don’t know what to do without her. My life was intertwined with her’s and there was never a future that she wasn’t apart of. I’m completely lost without her.

I hope whoever did this rots in hell. You deserve nothing but suffering for taking such a pure soul out of this world.”

Abby’s words leave a small smile on my face despite the tears that continue to fall. In all honesty, I’m surprised her entire speech wasn’t a rage fuelled rant directed at the perpetrator.

Despite my eyes being fixed on the service taking place in the gym below, I still feel the bench dip slightly. Alerting me of someone’s presence. My eyes reluctantly drag themselves away and I realise it’s the footballer, he sits towards the other end of the bench, keeping his distance. I’m quick to notice the lack of football jersey, wearing nothing but a white tank top that defines his arms nicely and his blue school assigned gym shorts.

His hands are clutching a bouquet of flowers, an array of sunflowers, dusty orange irises, blood red snapdragons and soft peach chrysanthemums. They’re arranged beautifully, held together by a small piece of string.

“They were beautiful speeches.” He comments, soft smile gracing his features.

I nod, offering a small smile in return. The lack of football attire puts me at ease and I’m appreciative of the distance between us. Guilt consumes me slightly at my judgement towards him, but I can’t control it. After what happened, I don’t want to put myself in that situation again. I’m not taking any chances.

“This is the hard part. My mom couldn’t even finish her eulogy she was crying that much.” He tells me, eyes fixed on the girls from my cheerleading squad who are now doing their own speech. “It’s good to know you have so many people who care about you though.”

He doesn’t look over at me once he’s finished speaking and I take my time to look at him properly. Soft brown eyes compliment his dark, almost black hair. Full lips and a youthful glow, it dawns on me that he’s been stuck in this state for decades, never aging, never changing.

“I feel bad.” I state, voice barely louder than a whisper as I allow myself to make eye contact with him when he turns to face me. “They shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” He goes to move towards me before stopping himself, though never taking his eyes off mine. “You can’t blame yourself, trust me I spent years doing that and no good comes of it. You’ll just end up tormenting yourself.”

Nodding as I take in his words, I let out a long sigh. Gazing down at my parents once again, I can’t help but feel the tears welling up in my eyes once again and I’m quick to wipe them away. Not wanting Wally to see me cry. They’re still clinging on to each other, though they’ve moved to sit down now, neither of them look as though they’re paying much attention to those speaking. Focused solely on comforting one another.

It’s in that moment that I notice who the next speaker is and my entire body tenses. Why is Spencer getting up to speak? He’s dressed to the nines in a black suit, hands gripping a piece of paper that has evidently been crumpled up. If my heart still worked I’m almost positive it would’ve stopped beating right this second.

Is this some sort of sick joke? Parading around in front of my grieving loved ones, knowing full well that he’s potentially evaded justice. I feel sick to my stomach and can’t bare to watch. What could he even have to say?

“Walk with me.”

Before Wally can even figure out what is happening, I’m practically sprinting out of the gym. Hurrying down the hallway in an effort to get as far away from Spencer as physically possible. It’s completely irrational, I know he can’t see me. He can’t hurt me again. Yet, I can’t even bring myself to stay in the same room as him.

“How did you die?” I ask Wally once he has caught up to me, walking beside me while making sure to keep a few feet between us. I’m in need of a distraction and as long as he’s talking, I can keep my mind off the situation that just unfolded before me.

“Oh, I um was tackled during the homecoming game of my senior year in ‘83. Snapped my neck and died on the pitch.” He tells me, one hand scratching the back of his neck as he does so, eyes unable to meet mine. “I’d already been benched but my mom pushed me to get back in the game and I just wanted to make her proud.”

Stopping in my tracks, I turn to face him properly. His face is full of guilt, and perhaps a little bit of shame. Afraid that he didn’t do his best, that he didn’t make his mom proud.

“She still comes to every game. I mean they named the stadium after me so it’s nice that I get to see her once a year. I’m lucky in that sense.”

He’s rambling, trying to fill the silence with anything he can. It’s something I often found myself down when I was still alive. Wanting to aid the embarrassment and nervousness I often felt.

“Wally. Your mom will always be proud of you. A mom’s pride for her child is unconditional.” I speak confidently, allowing him to feel reassured, something I can sense he needs right now.

“You’re right. I just wish things ended differently, like if I’d won the game, all those years of training wouldn’t have gone to waste you know?”

The sadness in his voice is prevalent and I can tell he struggles with it even after all these years. He’s still not making eye contact with me and I feel that pang of guilt once again, for assuming he would be like all the other stupid footballers I know. He has a good heart, I see that now.

“You heard my mom’s speech right? If we’re gonna play that game then all those years of dance training were for nothing.” I joke, hoping it’ll ease his sullen mood slightly. “I danced because it was fun, besides, if all of those years were for nothing, would I still be able to do this?”

For the first time since we left the gym, Wally actually looks at me. Raising my arms, I judge the distance behind me before throwing myself into a back handspring. The boy laughs quietly, causing me to smile as he brings his hands together in a round of applause, muffled slightly due to the flowers he’s still holding. Bowing obnoxiously, I can’t help but allow myself to enjoy the moment. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt this entire time and I intend to savour it.

“Wow. Yeah, you would not catch me doing that.” He comments, matching my pace as we continue to walk again. “Thank you, by the way.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, not entirely sure where his thanks are coming from. Staying silent as we sit opposite one another in the communal gardens towards the back of the school. It’s quiet, not many students know it’s here, and the ones that do have no interest in being back here. They’d much rather be on the quad where they actually get phone service.

“For cheering me up, I mean. The others can sometimes get a bit annoyed when I bring up what happened. They think I should’ve got over it by now with it being almost forty odd years ago.” He states, the sunlight reflecting on him at just the right angle, it makes him look angelic. Beautiful really.

“Can anybody get over their death?”

“Rhonda seems to think so, but I reckon she just doesn’t like talking about what happened to her.” He replies, a fondness in his eyes as he talks about her, almost as if he’s remembering a past conversation.

Leaning back to take in the sun, I close my eyes, absorbing the light that hits my face. Being dead is strange to say the least, I thought I wouldn’t feel anything. No emotions, no sensations, nothing. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Since death, I’ve mostly felt sadness and anger, but spending this short amount of time with Wally has made me aware of the happiness i’m able to feel as well. Not to mention the warmth of the sun on my skin, I can pretend I’m alive. Even if it is just for a second.

“These are for you by the way.” Wally’s voice bring me back to reality and I realise he’s holding the bouquet of flowers out to me. He’s sat a good distance away and so I have to lean forward to take them from his grasp. Fingers brushing as I do so and I’m quick to pull away, despite the warmth that rushed through my hand upon the momentary interaction. “I was going to give them to you earlier, but then it didn’t seem right because we were watching the eulogies and all. I didn’t wanna make it weird or awkward for you or anything. I also didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so I just picked a bunch from the flower gardens, Charlie helped me arrange them, I hope they’re okay because my first attempt wasn’t the best. Apparently the colours didn’t match or something-“

“Wally they’re gorgeous.” I interrupt, unable to hide the grin that is beginning to spread across my face as I bring them to my nose to inhale the scent. “Snapdragons are my favourite.”

“Oh thank god. I was really worried you would hate them, or that maybe you weren’t a flower person.” He blurts out, following a quick sigh of relief. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I mean no harm, and sort of welcome you the afterlife I guess.”

I must admit the nervous rambling is cute, I can feel the redness flushing my cheeks as I hide myself behind the flowers. Taking my time to admire the bouquet as much as I can. It’s a beautiful gesture, and I’m in disbelief that he spent the time to do this for me. A peace offering despite him doing nothing wrong.

“You’re sweet Wally.” I admit, delicately stroking the petals on a couple of the flowers. “I’m really sorry about before. You just remind me of someone.”

“A footballer ex perhaps?” He questions, unable to get Rhonda’s previous comment out of his head. Whether it be down to jealousy or curiosity he’s unsure.

“No, no ex.” I shake my head adamantly, eyes glued to the flowers as I try to come up with the words to describe why I acted the way I did. It’s still too soon for me to talk about, I know that. However, I also know that Wally does deserve some sort of explanation. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet, but if I have another moment like before I promise it’s not your fault.”

Wally nods, understanding and accepting my boundaries. We stay sat in silence for a moment longer, he doesn’t push me to talk, nor does he change the subject. Instead, we just embrace the peace we’ve created in the garden. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt for a while and I’m able to sit with my own thoughts without sending myself into a spiral or a panic. It’s nice.

The minutes pass as we listen to the gentle sounds of birds chirping and the occasional rustle of the trees in the wind. It feels as though we’re stuck in time, but I feel content. I wouldn’t mind being stuck right here, right now. At least, if it wasn’t for Charlie.

“Y/N, your memorial’s ending, just thought you’d want to see your parents again before they leave!”

Wally and I both look towards the boy who stands awkwardly in the doorway. He sounds out of breath and I imagine he’s been sprinting around the school in search of me.

My hands grip the flowers tighter, veins popping and knuckles flexed as I squeeze tightly. Wally’s the first to stand and when I finally look up at him, he offers me an encouraging nod. A reminder that I am strong enough to do this. To say my goodbyes.

While I walk besides the tall jock, with Charlie taking lead in front, I do feel strong. Wally’s supportive and comforting nature radiates through the hallway and I feel confident. Although, I know this is the last time I could potentially see my parents, there’s no sadness, just a readiness to take on this new stage of my life and it fills me with a sense of acceptance. Accepting death was difficult but finally, I feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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What ever you can do, please do it! I understand that not everybody has the spoons to write posts as of now, but please, if you can, at least reblog this post. This post is about @hashem-bader, who reached out to me a bit ago asking if i could help promote his campaign, which currently rests at about only seven percent completed. That’s 3,451 of the 50,000 goal. This goal is urgent, as Hashem’s niece, who recently had undergone arm surgery after she was injured in the bombing of their house, needs another surgery after the bones have healed wrong overtime! Hashem also needs three tents for his family of twenty six people! Quick reminder, that winter is coming as well, and food prices are currently very high, so this is very, VERY urgent!!!! Please, if you can, donate, share, or make a post about this, even just reblog with some kind words and boost this post in the comments. Remember everyone, likes do nothing. Reblog, comment and queue this to boost this campaign!!!!

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[fletchingbrilliant]

Well, hello there, nasty little bitches! Your favorite EVERYTHING is back, Katie Killjoy, and boy do I have a juicy update for you!

After the inital bloodbath - which could have used a LOT MORE BLOOD if you ask me! - all the teams have branched off to gather their bearings, but it's not going as smoothly as they'd like...

The day got off to a great start for King Lucifer and the admittedly ambitious imp Blitzø, but things soon unraveled as soon as Blitzø started setting up camp, while Lucifer learned that basic labor might be beyond his royal smallness, as a single thorn on a berry bush has stricken him crippled.

Meanwhile, the hardass angel Lute attemped to encroach upon the Cornucopia, only to be discovered by Valentino, who scared the shit out of the divine destroyer. And Niffty has managed to construct a slingshot, and appears to have aims to build up an entire arsenal.

And Lute's partner, Velvette, received a huge donation of supplies from an unknown sponsor, which she is more eager to show off than to share with the angel, who was frightened right down a steep hill by the porn mogul.

Vox has successfully erected his impressive camp, but Angel Dust made a daring theft. Vox was only left confused, but not as confused as Adam, who somehow found a map but seems utterly incapable of understanding it.

Loona found cover for herself and Vaggie in a hollowed out tree, for some reason eager to defend the woman who appears to actually BE AN ANGEL PEOPLE AM I GOING CRAZY.

Sir Pentious managed to find a clean water supply, and the tiny angel thing decided to try its hand at fishing... Looks like Mammon has managed to extend his advertising to this competition in spite of having no official affiliation.

Fizzarolli fled from the Radio Demon and managed to find a cave... but it looks like Alastor beat him to the punch.... and picked some flowers.....

Good question, Fizz.

It appears that Cherri Bomb survived her encounter with an explosive at the bloodbath! But her partner Octavia has taken to higher ground in an attempt to track down wherever she was blasted to.

Husk is being TEDIOUSLY responsible, cooking a meal and putting out his fire before any of their enemies can track them down. The pampered Prince Stolas is no help, and their twee little exchange is nothing short of fucking nauseating.

As evening continued to set in, Vox and Moxxie went hunting, and found a pair of potential targets...

Ooooh, are they going to finally give us our first kill? I'm SALIVATING!

They did not know they were overheard by our idiot of a Princess. Looks like she's finally figuring out how stupid this is. Too bad we're not gonna let her shut it down until it's done, are we, bitches????

Who knew the King of Lust was such a pansy?

Let's see how everybody's holding up!

That's all for now, my lovelies!

When morning comes, I hope we finally see some bodies hit the floor! Katie Killjoy, signing off!

**special thanks to @zaebeecee for concept and writing assistance**

[simandy]

SOLUTIONS! CAUSE WE’RE ALL TIRED!

So today @isjao asked me if I could post a blender file containing a basic streak mesh to make everybody’s job easier, so I thought: “why not” and decided I would post a whole zip file instead, containing the mesh + all my base textures I use when I have no patience to scroll the whole sims4studio catalog looking for the perfect texture.

The .zip file contains:

The streak mesh (modifier on);

My hand-painted base texture (EA dirty blonde, 13th swatch);

The other 23 EA swatches (if you like my version. If you have your own actions, you can recolor the base again);

My 40 PuppyCrow swatches;

A hand-painted scalp texture, if you want it. (png and dds);

Bump map and Specular map ready to go!

A text file for troubleshooting and TOU.

💕 DOWNLOAD 💕

PLEASE CONSIDER DONATING ON KO-FI OR BECOMING A PATRON. I’m trying to pay for my new ADHD meds, antidepressants and therapy, also college. Please, consider sharing too, if you can’t pay. Thank you for the support :)

[zndr315-blog]

welcome everybody

I am Muhammad Imad Abdel Latif Sharab

First, after an aggressive war on Gaza City and its revival, we were displaced from our 3-storey house in which I and my family of 3 members live.

My father's family consists of 8 members

My grandfather, may God have mercy on him, was martyred by occupation aircraft on 12/14/2023.

The one who was martyred while he was leaving the house to check on our house next to him, which could not be reached due to a brutal enemy who does not differentiate between anyone in death, went out to check on our house, which we were not in because of my displacement to Rafah, me, my father, and our families due to the intensity of the fighting in Khan Yunis, and after that A few days ago, our store in which my father and brothers work was bombed by occupation aircraft. He was working to gather his strength from it and meet the needs of our house, which no longer exists due to the bombing. We ask you to help and contribute, even if just a little, by donating to us so that we can compensate for a little of what we lost.

Many thanks to you 😢

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

If you do not understand the words well, because I am not very good at English, but I ask you to help me with money so that I can compensate for even a little of what I lost, and I am very grateful to you, my dears😢🥺😢🥺😢🥺🥺😢

This fundraiser has been vetted by @90-ghost so please share, reblog, and donate. They are currently very far from their goal. Only $975 out of $100,000.

[littlegermanboy]

hi everybody, nesma (@nesmamomen) has reached out asking me to share her story with you all. she is final year university student, and had lots of hope for her future after graduation from the islamic university of gaza. she lived a peaceful, happy life with her pets and 12 family members.

however, their house has since been destroyed, as well as the house of her relatives, several of whom were martyred. she and her family lost all of their prosperity and necessities, forced to flee and try to shelter and care for 12 people, many of whom are children.

now, several of nesma's siblings are sick and need treatment. they are living without any medication for their illnesses or food and water for survival. they are in desperate need of aid - thus, nesma is seeking to raise $150k for the evacuation of all of her family members. as of august 24, $112,334 has been raised. please, donate whatever you're able to help nesma and her family escape gaza and receive treatment for their illnesses and injuries, and to give them hope that a return to a peaceful, fulfilling life is possible. if you're unable to donate, please share.

[mychlapci]

Happy hypnotized wife Sunny gets even ditzier when his hubby gets him pregnant. He practically cries from the pleasure when they merge their shared spark, holding his own thighs up by his chest to help Sideswipe fuck him even deeper. The rush of transfluid past his internal sensors has Sunny squealing with ecstasy as it fills his gestational tank. But the pregnancy really melts his processor a little. He spends the whole carriage in a positive feedback loop that eats up whatever bandwidth constructing the sparkling’s processor doesn’t.

Thankfully, Sideswipe and the other mechs on base have plenty of patience with their poor, ditzy house-mommy. Sunny is all giggles and smiles as usual, but he craves spike like nothing else. His hubby is suuuuper smart and locks a plug in his pussy so Sunny doesn’t get tempted to ride anybody else for donations, but Sideswipe isn’t cruel either. Sunny’s allowed to suck as much spike as he needs to feel better until his hubby can take the time to flood his tanks with transfluid again. Which is thankfully lots and lots!

Sunny does his best cooking and cleaning, but it gets him so horny that he has to stop to ask someone to please pet his sweet little node until he squirts or to hump his array against the furniture. All the mechs looooove seeing him lift his skirts up so dainty and demure to beg for them to stroke his clit. Everybody’s so nice when he forgets what he was doing and always remind him to be a good wifey and finish their snacks or dinner. Sunny likes to handfeed those mechs their treats as a thank you, straddling one of their big, strong thighs to hump while he presses jellies to their mouths.

He can’t help stroking his pregnant belly as it grows, giggling when the baby kicks. It’s so shiny and pretty, the perfect look for a good wife. Being a mommy is the best. Sunny’s shows keep telling him how much he loves being pregnant and how good it feels to be a dumb, ditzy mech for his hubby. Sideswipe likes to fuck him from behind when he watches his shows, face pressed into Sunny’s back as he pinches his wife’s nozzles and strokes the swell of that belly. Sunny just moans and grinds back on that thick, perfect spike filling him with cum.

When his milk comes in, Sunny needs a little help remembering to pump it so that it doesn’t drip all over and go to waste. Keeping a schedule is much too hard for a pampered pregnant wife to handle—those sorts of chores are only appropriate when Sunny’s not carrying his hubby’s first sparkling! Thankfully everyone loves reminding him to sit down so they can hook the pumps up to his achy titties for him. Sunny loves looking in the mirror when he’s pumping energon for his mechs and his baby. As soon as he can keep a train of thought, he’s going to do a self-portrait for sure! But for now all he can do is stare at the gorgeous, soft, curvy mommy in the mirror. Legs spread to make room for his huge belly, yellow plating shining in the light as he strokes his bump. His strong, handsome hubby coming up behind him to kiss Sunny silly. The glow of the energon being pumped from his still-growing titties… It’s all picture perfect.

god, this got buried....

Sunstreaker gets even dumber once he gets pregnant... Ditzy little wife doesn't really have the processor capacity to remember anything other than how to be horny <3 But it's okay, all the other bots take care of him and his growing belly, pumping his titties and jerking his cute little node, since theyvre not allowed to cum into him without Sideswipe permission.

He's sooo happy. A heavy mamma with a beloved husband and a cute chunky baby on the way... what more could he possibly want?

[gatalentan]

"Somebody is making money, and all that the WGA is asking for is a tiny percentage - 3% - be shared among all of the writers, all of the people that contribute to the content that all of us love to see. And I think that the feeling in this town and in this country is behind the unions. We are in a new day in America. Unions are going strong. We are no longer in an age where people think everybody should work for free or that it's a gig economy. We are in a day where we expect to be treated fairly." (x) - Lisa Ann Walter

WGA Strike: more info | donate

[lakesparkles]

Here are some life updates:

My mom and I are planning pretty much everything during most of the day. We'll need to sell a bunch of our stuff, but our goal is to move out in the end of the year.

I have no idea if this will be possible, but we'll surely try

Thank you A LOT everybody that shared my post, donated or commissioned me. I can't express how grateful I am with so much support already <3 and all I ask is also a little of patience as I may take some time to answer everybody and all of this. I'm a bit overwhelmed thanks to... What is happening at my house, of course

[angelmichelangelo]

emmy’s 2024 christmas advent fic!

so it’s getting to that time of year again where i’m kicking off my annual christmas advent fic! for those unfamiliar, for the past seven years i’ve posted my own advent of fanfic, starting from december 1st all through to december 25th! it’s just a fun little thing i like to do as i know sometimes the holiday season can be hard or difficult for some, and if putting a bit of fic magic into the world can brighten someone’s day then i’m more than happy to try!

as per tradition, in order to kick this event off, i’m in need of fic prompts! you can send these my way through my ask box (anonymous or otherwise) and all i ask is that they’re one worded prompts :) i like to give myself a bit of challenge on top of writing 25 fics in time for christmas so for example, you could put: “teddy bear” or “sick fic” or “birthday” — just as long as they’re one worded(ish) and not a paragraph or a full sentence of prompt, i can add it to my list!

it doesn’t necessarily have to be christmas/holiday/winter themed either! whatever you’d like me to try my hand at, send it my way and i’d be more than willing to try!

i’ll be writing tmnt fic so if there’s a specific iteration you’d like for your prompt, just add it next to the prompt. or, leave it up to my own interpretation! whatever floats your boat! i will write for any and all tmnt verses so everything goes! :)

i look forward to doing this every year, with the added bonus that at the end of it, i will be donating £25, £1 for every fic posted, to a chosen charity. if you have any suggestions as to what that sound be, please do also feel free to send me some links and ideas! (i know that £25 may not feel like a lot but its about as much as i can give and its better than nothing)

you can send me as many prompts as your heart desires! i try to kick this off as early as i can so i can accumulate 25 prompts and then find the time to write them so the more the merrier!

for anyone else that wants to play along, feel free to do so! when i have all the prompts, i would be happy to share them with anyone that’s wanting to have a go also! there’s no obligation to finish all the prompts — just a bit of cheerful fun for what isn’t always a cheerful season for everybody.

so please do send in your prompts to my asks, again, you can be anonymous or not and send in one or a hundred (that’d be impressive if you did lol) i’m super excited to get this started!

[captain-of-the-roses]

welcome everybody

I am Muhammad Imad Abdel Latif Sharab

First, after an aggressive war on Gaza City and its revival, we were displaced from our 3-storey house in which I and my family of 3 members live.

My father's family consists of 8 members

My grandfather, may God have mercy on him, was martyred by occupation aircraft on 12/14/2023.

The one who was martyred while he was leaving the house to check on our house next to him, which could not be reached due to a brutal enemy who does not differentiate between anyone in death, went out to check on our house, which we were not in because of my displacement to Rafah, me, my father, and our families due to the intensity of the fighting in Khan Yunis, and after that A few days ago, our store in which my father and brothers work was bombed by occupation aircraft. He was working to gather his strength from it and meet the needs of our house, which no longer exists due to the bombing. We ask you to help and contribute, even if just a little, by donating to us so that we can compensate for a little of what we lost.

Many thanks to you 😢

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

If you do not understand the words well, because I am not very good at English, but I ask you to help me with money so that I can compensate for even a little of what I lost, and I am very grateful to you, my dears😢🥺😢🥺😢🥺🥺😢

Though I was unable to find a working link, several sources from a google search and from the tags say this has been vetted by 90-ghost, just under a different account; Please Share and Donate

€3,454 raised of €100,000 goal

[z-moves]

welcome everybody

I am Muhammad Imad Abdel Latif Sharab

First, after an aggressive war on Gaza City and its revival, we were displaced from our 3-storey house in which I and my family of 3 members live.

My father's family consists of 8 members

My grandfather, may God have mercy on him, was martyred by occupation aircraft on 12/14/2023.

The one who was martyred while he was leaving the house to check on our house next to him, which could not be reached due to a brutal enemy who does not differentiate between anyone in death, went out to check on our house, which we were not in because of my displacement to Rafah, me, my father, and our families due to the intensity of the fighting in Khan Yunis, and after that A few days ago, our store in which my father and brothers work was bombed by occupation aircraft. He was working to gather his strength from it and meet the needs of our house, which no longer exists due to the bombing. We ask you to help and contribute, even if just a little, by donating to us so that we can compensate for a little of what we lost.

Many thanks to you 😢

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

If you do not understand the words well, because I am not very good at English, but I ask you to help me with money so that I can compensate for even a little of what I lost, and I am very grateful to you, my dears😢🥺😢🥺😢🥺🥺😢

hi, Mohammed! i wish that you and your family can stay safe. i hope that sharing this link will help more people see it. i hope to see your wishes fulfilled!

€3,658 / €100,000

the goal is still far from being met, so i ask people to help and share if possible!

@/90-ghost has vetted this with regards to Mohammed's old blog. [ screenshot ]

tags for reach:

@heritageposts @nabulsi @appsa @schoolhater @feluka @timetravellingkitty @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis @toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq