#cluck gobble cluck cluck

[churkey]

oops, I didn't realize that my queue had run out.

[pangur-and-grim]

I’m still amazed that Tallgeese is so alright, given she was in the mouth of a fox two days ago!

I think the fox must have tried for Wormbecca first (given that she’s smaller and theoretically easier to carry off) but Wormy is FAST and LOUD. probably it had just given up on her and switched to giant, stupidly passive Tallgeese when I walked out

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY XXII. — EXHIBITIONISM

cw: Exhibitionism, Teasing, Fluff, Dirty Talk, Attempt at Humor, Monoma Being Monoma, Intercourse on a Balcony, Fem! Reader. 18+ Only!

author's note: This was for a good friend of mine because they are a simp. I hope you all enjoy too!

word count: Approximately 1.4k words.

“My! If only we were facing the plaza, my rose, so that I could watch everyone’s faces change into sheer jealousy. Oh, how great would that be?” 

A groan hasn’t left the back of your throat, but you swallow it down and dip your head down to let it dangle between your laced hands. Neito’s voice is hazy and sly while he speaks, while he slowly rolls his hips against yours in these teasing circles that make your back and feet arch. Both of your legs shiver, trembling underneath his every thrust, and you can’t help it whenever you’re falling back against each press forward. You’re horrified, but it feels too good to push Neito away and stumble back inside of the hotel room. 

You don’t remember even agreeing to this, but Neito had been so smooth, all grins and fluttering eyelashes, brushing his fingers through those lacy pale morning sun bangs, delicious periwinkle oozing between slit eyelids, and you were sand through the hourglass. He had so easily felled you, had wrapped those arms around your frame like a faux slow dance, and he’d carefully twirled and stalked the both of you through the room. So sweet, so kind, even with that boyish enthusiasm exuding through his pores, through the way he gobbled you up with his kind and dedicated words—and it wasn’t long before he had you where he wanted you: bottoms down, ass back on his cock, and both hands hoveling into your sides so he could yank and pull you however he needed while he caterwauled. 

“N-Neito, this is horrifying. Stop trying to d-draw attention t-to us!” 

Neito scoffs, faltering his hips purposefully before he angles into your cunt in a way that he knows drives you insane. A yelp escapes your lips, and you gasp, and the fire that tickles underneath your follicles makes you feel so silly, but you can only bite the inside of your lower mouth and grunt. 

“Attention is exactly what we need, dear! Those people down there in the park have no idea of the heaven before them. Why, I’d say they might not even be able to comprehend our beauty—our love.” 

You’re shaking your head, ready to say something, but Neito slams in deep and hard, another gasp, and it feels like an explosion of fumes and firecrackers sizzled and popped inside of you. The reaction keeps Neito grinding his hips there for a few moments, really massaging against that spot, and the smiles of his fingernails curve and start to dig in. The shuddering in your body is hard to fight, but you choke and sob, and you’re whining out—

“The p-people in the park p-probably don’t w-want to see t-two people getting it—”

Neito ends your rebuttal by taking a step closer to your body, really slotting himself between your barely spread legs. He leans over your back a little, the roll of his stomach resting perfectly against the swell of your ass. A cluck of a tongue later, and Neito is chuckling. 

“Nonsense. Who wouldn’t want to gaze upon your beauty? Oh, imagine them seeing you like this—seeing that it is me that is making you like this. I can’t believe anybody would just turn a blind eye to that!” 

“N-Neito, this is sexual m-misconduct—” 

Crack, and his cock is shoved so far inside of your cunt that you almost swear that Neito had found a way into your brain, your nasal cavity, your ear canals, your mouth, your throat, lungs, heart, stomach. Neito was everywhere and anywhere inside of you, and you bite your tongue and scream behind clenched teeth. Neito starts laughing, proudly, not mockingly, and his grip on you tightens before you feel him fling his upper body back, still nestled close to you. 

“This is marvelous, rose! Each sound I hear is like a symphony, but, of course, others aren’t as trained or maybe even cultured enough to grasp its integrity. If those civilians down there aren’t impressed by you, that must be why. Oh, how I just wish we could stay here all night just so that I can hear how I make you feel. Do you believe I couldn’t do that?” 

You start nodding your head, but you can only groan and moan, mewls and slobber dribbling out of your mouth. Neito laughs again, proud, and it honks a little into something cute near the end. The sound brings a smile tugging at each corner of your mouth, but Neito doesn’t give you the proper time to relish in his genuine music before one of his hands shoots down and cups your mound. 

“I mean, just look at you, honey, a mess underneath me—ohh, you really are honey, aren’t you? Sweet and inviting. A-Ahhh, ohh, I want us to stay like this the whole night!” 

Neito’s fingers catch against your clit fast, and he immediately presses down firmly. Another gasp, and your eyes wrench shut, tears prickling the edges and slipping through the bars of their flood gates. He’s rolling into you in all of the right ways, all of those tender and mindful ways. His hips are shifting to fit the position you need, the way you need to be plunged into to really drag you over the edge. And then, while he’s jerking you off, Neito starts hollering into the night. 

“Watching this—watching you cum, waiting to watch you cum is a sight that no one should miss! Don’t you understand how great it is, my rose? Ahhh, ah, ahh-oohh, yes, yes, I—I feel so powerful whenever the two of us are conjoined like this, whenever we’re intimate. How lucky am I? Hahaha!” 

He’s starting to whimper and whine now, mingled through his words like sugar and spice. The tugging of your clit increases, it becomes frantic, and the shove of his cock into your cunt does too, and soon it feels like everything around you is spinning. It’s so hot, you feel so hot even as Neito continues hooting and wailing into the night about how grand this is, about how anyone who crossed your paths should beg for more, to praise them for how good you two are together. And with each word, Neito grows more and more into breathy clacks of air that sound like mangled words, and he’s going so fast now. 

There’s a twist inside of you, there’s something budding underneath the pads of Neito’s fingers, and you feel him arch and swerve, and he’s finding himself against you. He’s starting to collapse, words all melted into gasping moans. You’re close, and you know he is too. Neito starts pounding into you in ways that make your whole body bounce, the railing of the balcony creaks, and it feels like your whole world is tumbling up the richter scale. Neito is there, he’s there, and you are too, and his tongue is lapping up your name, and Neito’s is a powdery drug that you cough and consume. And then—the shattering, you’re calling out his name, an echo in the night, and you feel your body raise up with each spasm of your cunt against Neito’s cock. 

“R-Rose, oh, oh, I-Iiiiiiiii!!” 

Neito’s hips dive into the icy hot waters one last time before he stills, and you know he’s orgasming. 

And the both of you stay like that for a few pausing moments, catching your breaths and basking in the moonlight, the sweat, the salt, the cozy wood of the park wafting overhead. You’re so gone, so fuckdrunk that your head hasn’t stopped thumping and pivoting, and you feel ready to just stutter and fall over—until, until—

“One more time, my precious treasure, let the people know who they should really be worshiping—” 

He releases a confused and bumbling laugh whenever you yell behind your glued teeth and sling your body against his, a roar and a cry for revenge on the tip of your tongue. 

“Boy, you get into that room now and lemme show you a thing or two!” 

Neito’s eyes are wide, glittering with emotion, and he starts losing his mind, insane and boisterous laughter spilling from his saucy lips before he acquiesces—the sounds you two share dying in the midnight air. 

[marclef]

Day 25. almost free. almost done.

it is Fake Peppino Friday... but for some reason, the sound of clucking is in the distance? that's strange..... perhaps one of these little Fakelings has something to do with it.

around a nearby town, strange rumors started popping up, about an old abandoned building that had stood vacant for a good few years. but odd sounds had been heard from within, the sounds of hard work, heavy objects being moved, and inhuman, almost cluck-like cries. nobody knew what it could have been, and none were brave enough to investigate. until... one day, out of nowhere, the building appeared somehow cleaner, and a large sign had been hung out at the front, with the bright, colorful words:

CHIK'N PLACE!!!

who was the culprit? well, one step inside this newly refurbished restaurant and you will be greeted by its very enthusiastic owner...

the often-excited, very sociable Poultrino! she started off as all of the other Fakelings, a strange, gooey blob-like creature with hunger and curiosity. but soon after going out into the world on their own, she stumbled across a runaway definitely wild chicken, which she chased after with great interest and then gobbled up with glee. but, the feathery snack awakened a strange feeling in her, such a delicious taste, she wanted to share it with all the world! and thus gave rise to the fifth and final Fakeling...

and now, all customers are happily welcomed at her humble Chik'n Place! there is chicken of all kinds there; chicken wings, fried chicken, chicken nuggets, living chickens, anything you could possibly want, as long as it is chicken! (and all VERY legally obtained, she wouldn't THINK of pilfering chicken from other establishments for her own....) and not to worry, she is very polite and welcoming to anyone who wishes to visit! as long as you are not also a chicken, or a tasty bug or rat.

their appearance and body are quite unique amongst the Fakes as well! and though she is still made out of simple Goop like the others, her "skin" is fairly soft and smooth, almost feeling like soft fuzz despite having no real feathers! her legs, tail, and "fleshy" parts are the same gooeyness as standard Fake Peppino though. despite her strange appearance, most customers assume she's simply in costume, and very few are any the wiser as to their true nature.

though, one more very important fact to mention... you didn't think they worked alone, did you? of course not, all that Chicken isn't going to serve itself! which is why the first person to enter her restaurant was taken happily hired as the first employee!! say hello to Sue, Poultrino's favorite and only employee!! (credit goes to my wonderful friend @plebbicinnabun-arts for coming up with her! 😊✨)

she helps prepare and serve many of the chicken dishes! (and makes sure that the stuff that's served is actually edible when possible...) and not to worry, her boss treats her with great care! she is paid well in a salary of both "human currency" and delicious chicken-based foods! it might just be very strange trying to explain her job to friends and family.

but together, these two help run the Chik'n Place, and Poultrino finds decent success at running a business! her Papa is very proud of her.

[sanjoongie]

𝕻𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌

💜Pairing: Pirate King! Song Mingi x Sea Witch! Reader (f)

💜Au: space pirate au, space au, sci-fi au

💜Trope: magical contract

💜Genre: smut

💜Rating: 18+, MDNI

💜Word Count: 1,730

💜Warnings: tentacle sex, dom! reader, sub! mingi, tentacle gag, oral (m), tentacle handjob, jerking off with hand, spit kink, nipple play, oral (f), edging, anal (m), dacryphilia, biting kink

💜Beta's: @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii

💜Summary: in exchange for a magical amulet, Mingi swears to spend one whole moon cycle with you and whatever you desire from his body. The all-powerful Pirate King is at the mercy of you and your witchcraft... and he has come to find he looks forward to this part of the year.

💜Author’s Note: happy birthday mings. your gentle smile, your big heart, your lyrical abilities, all wrap up to make you the man you are. you inspire us all to take better care of our mental states, just as you inspire the delulu in us all 😆

“If only your crew could see you now,” you lorded over the pirate king.

Mingi probably would have had a very curt, sharp answer for you if not for the tentacle that was entwined around his tongue. His eyes slowly glowed hatred for you, which made you smirk.

Your tentacles rotated Mingi so that he hung right before your lips. Your gloved hand wrapped around his weeping cock, neglected all the while your tentacles licked and sucked his bronze skin. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Mingi’s cheeks grew rosy with his suppressed desires. He couldn't meet your eyes but he nodded briefly. His back arched as you stroked his cock.

This predicament came about when Mingi had found your hideout; a bubble of breathable air inside of Eros, one asteroid belonging to the belt in the solar system. He needed a surefire way to command his crew. You gave him a necklace that gave him the power of a whistle, which, done after a certain command, would be followed to the letter. In return, Mingi would give his body to you for a moon cycle of every year.

Except your little pirate king had developed a kink for your tentacles, which benefited you, most certainly.

You sucked on the tip of Mingi’s cockhead, tasting the sweet precum. “Oh Mingi, you’re sweet enough to gobble up,” you moaned.

Your tentacles had to wrap tighter around Mingi’s thick thighs, practically caressing his hip bones in order to hold him in place. The man wanted to buck and thrust into your mouth, but he was not in charge of this room.

Eros rotated finally so that the sun could fill the room with its light. You admired the side profile of the man with whom your lips were wrapped around and couldn't help but feel satisfaction that he was in your clutches--and more importantly, that he enjoyed being there.

“Guess if you’re not going to be good, you don’t deserve my mouth,” you announced.

With a wave of your hand, two finger thick tentacles wrapped themselves around Mingi’s cock and began to squeeze and rotate around his length. You watched with great glee as Mingi whined at the loss of your mouth and then lost himself to the pleasures of your tentacles once more. He came with a loud muffled cry.

You clucked your tongue loudly against the roof of your mouth. “Look at the mess you’re making, Pirate King.”

Mingi’s cum was oozing all over his quite thick cock. Your tentacles made a whip motion to clean themselves of Mingi’s cum, splattering it around the room. You cooed at how delicate Mingi’s cock looked now with little suction cup marks there.

“It’s a little sad to see you so defeated like this,” you sighed. The tip of your sharp nails ran along Mingi’s jawline. His chin was resting on his chest, tired from his first orgasm. “We have so much more fun to have, Mingi.”

Mingi’s eyes looked at you balefully. One of your tentacles was still wrapped around his tongue, keeping him silent. Any conversation was going to be one-sided. But you couldn't risk Mingi trying to use the magic you blessed him with against you.

You let your forefinger tip Mingi’s head upwards, the sharp end digging into his chin mercilessly. “If this displeases you, all you need do is give up my necklace and I’ll let you be free.”

Mingi’s eyes widened at the thought of giving up his most powerful, magical artefact he had acquired during his reign. He shook his head rather quickly.

You laughed under your breath. “Surely you’re more than just the simple necklace, Mingi.” Your finger caught his necklace, pulling it away from his chest.

Mingi struggled, furtively of course, but making an attempt at least to make sure that you didn’t take away your magic from him. His eyes were wild, and his chest was heaving. He was quite the sight.

“Shall we continue then, Pirate King?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

His eyes appeared to plead for mercy. You weren’t sure what you preferred of Mingi, honestly; was it his sharp, glaring command when he was the Pirate King or was it the rosy cheeked, big eyed version that was simply Song Mingi?

Your tentacles flipped Mingi upside down, and the pirate king squealed at the sudden movement. Mingi’s legs were spread, with his face at the perfect height to give you some attention. You sent two tentacles to play with Mingi’s hole, testing and teasing to see if he was ready to get fucked.

Mingi’s muffled cry as the tentacles curled inside of him, massaging his prostate, was music to your ears. You started to yank on his dick while it hung upside down, twisting your wrist when encountering the head of his cock.

“You wanna get fucked, Pirate King?” You cooed mockingly.

Mingi whimpered in response. The tentacles around Mingi’s tongue pulled it out, obscenely so.

“If you behave, I’ll let you give me some sugar back, how about that, hmm?” You gathered some spit in your mouth and aimed it at Mingi’s puckered hole that was clenching around your smaller tentacles.

“Pleathes,” Mingi slurred.

A few tentacles supported and guided Mingi’s head so that his neck was bent and his tongue was extended, so if you moved your hips, you could get some pleasure.

Your eyes moved towards a floating screen, showing you how your cum and Mingi’s spit were smearing up his face as you humped his tongue. You pulled and yanked on Mingi’s length, enticing him to whimper and moan as you encouraged another orgasm from him. That’s when you let go of his cock and Mingi’s muffled yell of frustration made the corners of your mouth tip upwards.

“Me first, greedy guts. You’ve already come!” You said in a sing-song voice.

Your thighs shuddered as Mingi’s tongue swiped across your bundle of nerves for a final time. You bit down rather roughly on Mingi’s ass, satisfied with the marks your sharp teeth left on the plump flesh. “Such a good boy for me!” You praised Mingi.

“Mithtreth,” Mingi whined. “Pleathe.”

You sighed heavily in thought. “You really are a slut for my tentacles, aren’t you?”

Mingi was suddenly upright. He made pathetic pleading noises. With his face amess from all the fluids, he really was a delectable treat.

“Oh, fine, I’ll fuck you with my tentacles. But don’t you start crying when it becomes too much for your sensitive self, Mingi.”

When, in fact, if you finally got Mingi to cry, you considered that a success. Mingi looked gorgeous crying while being stuffed with your tentacles.

You sauntered towards your chaise lounge, undoing all your clothes, with the help of your hands and some of your tentacles. You laid back, one leg propped up, and an arm bent behind your head. Your tentacles set Mingi on the floor, tugging and pulling him until he was straddling your hips on the chaise lounge. A tentacle wrapped around his neck, gently, and pulled him forward until he was bent over, his chest barely brushing yours.

“I’m gonna give it to you good, Pirate King,” you purred, leaning up to bite softly on Mingi’s earlobe, capturing his earring behind your teeth and tugging gently.

Mingi made eager whimpering noises and you took that as his consent to get fucked. You watched as his eyelashes fluttered and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head. one of your thicker, stronger tentacles, twisted, slowly entering his prepared hole. As the suckers caught on the edge of his anus, pulling and rubbing on the sensitive skin as it pushed inside, Mingi jolted with the feeling of it.

“I’m deep inside of you, lover,” you hummed.

Mingi pushed back on your tentacle, already excited for the fucking to commence. You sighed in amusement. “Ready to bounce that cute little ass on my tentacle, Mingi?”

Mingi nodded finally, and you gave him what he wanted. With each thrust, Mingi’s body moved forward, his nipples flicking across yours. You watched with bated breath, directing a few smaller tentacles to take Mingi’s wrists, and cross them at the small of his back. The extra weight Mingi had to lean onto the tentacle around his neck choked him slightly. Your tentacle, corkscrewed around Mingi’s neck, back and forth, cutting off his oxygen and then letting him breathe again.

If the breath play and the tentacle fucking him wasn’t enough, you pushed your breasts together so that your nipples came into further contact with Mingi’s sensitive ones. Mingi’s orgasm came with a full body experience. His entire body shook as he moaned gratuitously. His cum spurted on your stomach as your tentacle made him come untouched. And tears streamed down his face, which you licked up, a rare treat to indulge in indeed.

“There’s my sweet Pirate King,” You cooed, biting the tip of his cutely.

You maneuvered off the chaise lounge and released Mingi completely. He whimpered as your tentacles completely left him. His mouth was free for only a moment before you put a ball gag on Mingi. You couldn't let your guard down and let him order you around.

“To think, that’s only day one, Mingi.”

You walked to your huge bay window that showed off the wondrous asteroid belt that you lived within. Your pet kraken and pet leviathan floated out in space, guarding your hideout and protecting you from aspiring pirate captain’s taking you hostage and using your magic for their ends.

Mingi groaned in response, and you giggled. The first release was always tiring for him, but you knew it was exactly what he needed. Somewhere, in Mingi’s heart of hearts, he needed to release his control and be the one to be told what to do and where to go. You did that for him, eagerly, but with pleasure as well. Somewhere before torturing and taunting the Pirate King, you had grown some fondness for the man.

Perhaps there was a day when you traveled with Song Mingi, a partnership stronger than anything the eighth sea had ever seen. But, until that day occurred, you’d happily suck Mingi’s cock. You had a spell in mind that would take many fluids from the PIrate King and collecting them was the most fun part of it all.

[blueberryarchive]

"Baby, don't make me spell it out for you...you know i want you"

Something i wrote in an ungodly hour instead of sleeping.

♡Pairing: Profesor!Jimin x Student!Reader

♡Word Count: 1.2k

♡Warnings: PARK JIMIN WITH GLASSES.

A dragon devouring paper after paper. His eyes like two marbles gobbled up every word you had written, smoke coming out of his nose and mouth every time his hand dropped a sheet on his desk. 

Jimin looked at you for a second, less maybe, but you knew that meant one of two things: either your writing sucked or you could go get your diploma, you didn't need to pay to learn creative writing. You settled on the sofa intertwining your hands. You knew it was the first. 

His brows went from furrowed to surprised in just three lines, almost unnoticed. It was a talent of Jimin's, that of not reacting or in such a subtle way that it went unnoticed by the human eye. So what the hell did you write on a night that had your teacher on the brink of a nervous breakdown? 

Another sheet is arranged with the others on top of the desk. Only the last one is missing. 

You closed your eyes and let the carbon-furred cat approach you. You let Mr. Jazz purr by your side, knowing you were in for an extra class on top of the previous 6 you had this morning. 

Jimin lifted his glasses from the bridge of his nose and then looked at you, his movements always fluid and slow. As if they had been choreographed. He never moved his hair without first thinking about it or lighting another cigarette until the one between his slender fingers warmed his knuckles. 

He and Mr. Jazz were an extension of the same stream. Little trickles of water that fall at the same time. Jimin clucked at him calling his cat to his lap and he responded instantly, leaving you alone on that huge, rough piece of furniture on the other side of the office. 

"So," you began the conversation desperately, his silence and fixations had you on the verge of burning every piece of paper in the fireplace.

"So," he repeated, pulling a pen from his jacket, firm scratches on an open notebook. That scared you, you knew you should have turned in the job you had half finished. It was better than a hasty piece of writing after four glasses of wine and a sleepless night. 

"Fuck, Jimin. Even in purgatory, they would judge me less." A nervous laugh came out of you. 

Jimin looked at the words he had jotted down in his notebook, the cigarette went to his lips with a chuckle. You didn't understand. 

"Am I a comedian now?" Before you could grab your writing, Jimin snatched it from you. Your chest contracted when you felt his warm hands touching yours, as if it were fire you took it away. Your eyes studying the floor instead of the dragon's eyes. 

"May I?" Jimin grabbed the notebook and got up from his desk. With flushed cheeks and a mindset for the lecture that was coming, you nodded. 

"Animalistic. Want. Lascivious. Velvet. Hungry. Burn. Frantically." Jimin began to say walking slowly to the office door to let Mr. Jazz out. 

"I don't understand-" 

"Open." he continued "Appetite. Divine. Tease... Jimin." Your eyes went to your professor's devilish grin, small and tight-lipped. 

You crossed your arms and walked in his direction stealing the notebook from his hands. He did not object. 

"What are you trying to tell me?" 

"What are you trying to tell me?" Jimin stubbed out his cigarette and cocked his head "All those words were on the last page." 

"Sorry?" 

"You don't have to apologize. It just seems strange to me, even knowing that you wrote this less than twenty-four hours ago," he glanced at the watch on his wrist, of course he knew you wrote it overnight. "I find it incredible how...notorious your piece is" 

"Notorious?" 

"Evident" 

"Yes, I know what it means." you were talking over him. Your hand squeezed the notebook in your hands. 

"Well, then you understand how erotic your piece becomes in the end."

"Yes." 

"It was on purpose?" Jimin raised his eyebrows resting his hands on the edge of his chair vehemently. 

"Yeah." You don't really remember much of the last few pages. Your teacher sighed after looking at you for a long time, the fire was crackling in the fireplace and your hands tingled with the desire to throw the entire writing into the flames. 

"Was it on purpose that instead of your main character, um...," he grabbed the paper on the table, "Jack. You wrote my name several times in the dialogue between his wife and him?" You don't remember anything from the last few pages you wrote, the wine had erased part of your memory and the protocol of reading everything twice before delivering. 

You swallowed hard, looking for where to put your gaze without seeming you wanted to sink into your shame. "I wrote it on my cell phone and sometimes it changed to your name." You stuttered. 

"Don't try, lovely. I can see how red you are even in the dim light from the window," he said grabbing the notebook from your hand, his chest was so close to yours. His fingers took their time as he brushed the material and the ring on your ring finger. 

You breathed out looking into his eyes, the flames reflecting in his pupils making it look like all hell had broken loose on him. Who knew that reading his name a couple of times on a piece of paper could make a man's ego grow so big? 

"I don't understand what you want me to tell you." His flirtatious smile made you want to slap him, his cheekbones looked like two apples you wanted to bite into. 

"Implore. That's my favorite word." 

"I already told you, Mr. Park. It was an incident, nothing good that my drunken brain came up with last night." Your gaze fell to his lips as he licked the corners of his. 

"You know what they say about writers and alcohol." 

"That they make a romanticized, disastrous mix?"

"That too. But also about honesty."

Jimin nodded, his free hand moving slowly to your neck brushing his fingertips behind your ear. Your legs trembled, wetness suddenly pooling in your cotton panties. 

"Park," you muttered. "Really, I'm sorry." You started trying to keep your composure. "I don't know why I left that writing for last, I've been concentrating too much on my thesis and-" 

"Baby, don't make me spell it out for you... you know I want you." Jimin whispered longingly, pushing his glasses up into his hair. 

"What?" the notebook fell to the ground when his hands slipped to your ass squeezing hard until you got closer. You could only gasp grabbing the collar of his shirt. 

"I. Want. You." He grabbed harder, looking deeply into your eyes. Raspy voice.

You were in shock, still not understanding.

"You're so clueless when I least want you to be." he whispered while giving pecks to your jaw.

"Park, I don't know what you're talking about." Your eyes did not stop analyzing his lips tinted pink, shining with his saliva. Hungry. 

"Baby, you didn't write my name on your piece." His left hand went up to your waist caressing your side with his thumb. 

"Then why-?" 

"Because I would have loved to see it written in that sweet glossary." You searched his eyes under his dark hair. 

"So it's good?" 

"No, you can do better than that. I don't think you want me grading an overnight paper." 

"No." you interrupted him, drunk on his perfume. 

"Good." he interrupted back, lifting your legs off the ground and making you pin them around his waist. "Now, if you let me, I wish to recreate part of your piece." 

Your mouth was watering. The craving you didn't know was about to change your palate.

[thespanishgarden]

Bird Terms Vocabulary in Spanish

Arboreal [Animals or species that live in trees] - Arborícola

Aerial [Existing or living or growing or operating in the air] - Aéreo/a

Avian [related to birds] - Aviar or Aviario/a

Avian Influenza/Bird Flu - La Gripe Aviar

Bird - El Pájaro [Masculine] / El Ave [Feminine]

Beak - El Pico

Birdhouse/Avivary - La Pajarera/La Casita para Pájaros

Bird Feed - El Alpiste

Birds of Prey/Raptor [A predatory bird that actively hunts for prey] - El Ave de Rapaz/Las Aves de Rapaz

- El Ave de Rapiña/Las Aves de Rapiña

Bird Feeder - El Comedero Para Pájaros

Chirp [Sound produced by birds] - El Pío

Cluck [Sound produced by chickens] - El Cloqueo/El Cacareo

Clutch/Brood - La Nidada

Endangered - En Peligro de Extinción

Extinction - La Extinción

Extinct [No Longer Exisiting] - Extinto/a or Extinguido/a

Eagle’s Nest - La Aguilera

Falconry - La Cetrería/La Halconería

Falconer - El Halconero/La Halconera

Feathers - Las Plumas

Flock of Birds - La Banada

Flapping of Wings [Wing's Flapping] - El Aleteo

Gobble [Sound produced by a Turkey] - El Gluglú

Hatching - La Eclosión/ La Salida Del Cascarón

Hatchling (Baby Bird) - El Pajarito/El Polluelo

Hoot [Sound produced by an Owl] - El Ululato

Migration - La Migración

Migratory - Migratorio/Migratoria

Nest - El Nido

Little Nest - El Nidito

Nesting - La Anidación/La Nidificación

Nectar - El Néctar

Ornithology [The study of birds] - La Ornitología

Ornithologist - El Ornitólogo/La Ornitóloga

Roost [A place where birds routinely settle to rest at night]- La Percha

Regurgitation [The act of bringing swallowed food back into the mouth] - La Regurgitación

Quack [Sound produced by a Duck] - El Graznido

Scarecrow - El Espantapájaros

Scavenger [A type of bird that feeds on dead animals] - El Carroñero/La Carroñera

Wings - Las Alas

Wingspan - La Envergadura

Wingless - Sin Alas

[Gif not mine]

[yorkshiregirlwrites]

(the prompt for this was a picture of a chicken wearing a scarf, coupled with unexpected characterisation. long story. anyway it's from a while ago)

-------

There was at the top, a most unimposing figure: who in positioning itself as the Guardian of the Mountain, may have done better to guard a small to moderate snow-drift: and who as I drew nearer, took on the form not of a human, nor of some grand (though minuscule) figure of myth, but, –

‘I have not seen,’ I remarked aloud, ‘such a thing in my life before. Pray Guardian, I have not in all my travels and studies of Creatures of Fable, known your like or representation, –’

‘I am a chicken,’ said the Guardian.

Whereupon I lifted my hat; thought better of bowing; only scratched my head, and looked down at her, and, – my ears beginning to freeze outside of their woollen confines, – replaced the hat. The chicken only stared, – with all the grandeur, I thought, of a hen lately divested of her eggs; and wanting at least as compensation, a handful of corn. I had not brought a handful of corn. What with the mountain-shoes, and the extensive food-provisions, and the letter of recommendation, and the hairbrushes, and the padded fur coat, and most particularly the hat with the ear-flaps, – it had not even occurred to me.

‘I have nothing, O Chicken,’ said I most conscious of the vocative, ‘with which to appease you; you must forgive my lack of foresight, –’

‘Fear not, my child,’ said the chicken, who spoke so serenely, that I thought the voice come of the snow itself, ‘for I am no jealous god, and you must not fear to tread my path.’

I looked at the chicken. The chicken looked at me.

Slowly she drew herself up; then in a great mass of feathers, shook out her wings and her tail that the snow went up about her and shone in her wake like angel-light; and returned to herself, she tested her beak, wiggled her wattle and clucked.

She was, after all, a chicken.

‘Many have made this pilgrimage before you, –’ she began.

‘O and they brought back not the slightest suggestion of your form,’ said I: ‘speak only more hoarsely, or more gobbly, and I’ll perhaps believe it; for you are a brown hen, a simple brown hen, – and, – and, – and you have a knitted scarf.’

‘It is cold up here,’ said she.

‘But the form goes not with the voice nor the title, –’ I must protest.

The hen shuffled most uncomfortably.

‘Ought I to be a ptarmigan?’ she suggested: ‘would I be less out of place were I a mountain-grouse?’

‘O no,’ said I: ‘that is not the problem; it is rather that I came through ice and peril, over days of effort which has entirely spent me, –’ I nodded to the earflaps, which had been worn down with nervous chewing, ‘– to the shrine of the Mountain-Goddess, guarded by Her Ladyship herself, –’

‘And what precisely, child,’ said the hen, – I not liking the appellation from a voice hardly thigh height, – ‘did you expect a deity to resemble?’

I must stammer and stutter; and blame for this, not without a flake of reason, some looming hypothermia. I could not answer: because the representation of a goddess ought to be unanswerable: o because I could not and should never have been able to describe the Mountain-Goddess, so eluded she my grasp and the mundane!

‘My poor pilgrim,’ said she at last: ‘come, I will lend you my scarf, just as the saint gave his cloak to the beggar, –’

‘It is chicken-sized,’ said I.

‘It contains multitudes,’ said the chicken: and taking its tassels in her beak, made such deft and graceful work of its removal, – all in a hail of icicles and of snowflakes, – until it was off; and the thing, which might go around me thrice, was humbly offered to me, – by a chicken, – whose eyes like the scarf, pooled so bright and deep, that in beholding them I half believed, – and blamed the hypothermia, but believed, – in miracle!

[johnschneiderblog]

Selective hearing

I got in a rejuvenating forest bath Sunday morning, but the woods were anything but quiet. Peaceful, but not quiet.

Black walnuts, in their plum-size husks, were thump-thumping on the ground; acorns were ping-pinging off branches on their way to earth; turkeys were clucking and gobbling; squirrels were chattering and squeaking ...

Voices I couldn't identify joined the chorus, none of which bothered the does that moseyed past my tree-stand.

It was a lesson in selective hearing. The noises that put me, with my untuned ears, on high alert, were ignored by the deer. Yet, the tiny click of my crossbow safety sent two of them into startled flight.

As the season progresses, my hearing filter will improve. In a week or so, I, too will be able to discern the difference between an approaching deer and a squirrel rummaging in dry leaves. I'll become acclimated.

[thedarklightcrypt]

skylands and its food chain

a rather quick piece but I figured it would be good to write anyway. skylanders is very explicit about species being carnivorous, now lets document that. mabu are eaten by trolls and cyclopses. in the machine of doom kaos says that glumshanks can eat flynn later, and in gill grunts heroic challenge (jailbreak!) cali offhandedly mentions that the cyclopses will get hungry soon gillmen are eaten by trolls. oilspill islands opening dialogue is the notable instance ("and hurry! i can already smell the cooking fires and tartar sauce!") sheep and chicken are also both consumed in skylands. lt. woalf refers to the captured sheep as 'tasty treats', and flynn is seen eating chicken in capn clucks chicken HQ. which also may imply mabu are omnivorous a couple skylanders can also eat enemies in game, such as wrecking ball and thumpback. whether this is exclusive to them or applies to every member of their species is out of my guessing range. bark demons eat chompies. in game this regenerates their HP. the undead eat the living. there is little information outside of that but i assume that it is a tad more complicated than that. ghost roaster eats ghosts. said in his backstory "After eating an entire spectral village" + "he (eon) figured even a ghost eater could be useful. So he made Ghost Roaster a Skylander… after he promised to eat only evil ghosts." last part has interesting implications as well as in his gameplay, he can eat ghosts. though this seems to be a ghost roaster only situation

gobble pods feed on greebles and chompies. see SF chapter 2 cascade glade

[churkey]

Being reminded that TW is from scott's perspective made something that'd been bugging me about the TW:Movie...

One of the (many) things that vexed me about the ending was that it comes off as Derek's big 'redemption' arc, and it's like... did he need to be redeemed?

Obviously not. But Scott's probably the only character who thinks he *does*.

[koolkat9]

Count Your Blessing

Rating: T

Relationship: England + Canada

Word Count: 948

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

Like any child, with love and time, they'll grow.

"How helpful," Arthur muttered to himself. At least the spell wasn't permanent. All he could do now was make sure Matthew was cared for and comfortable.

And deal with Matthew’s bosses.

And make sure all Matthew's work got done while trying to cover for him at meetings.

Simple.

The beginnings of a migraine were scratching along his temples. But he couldn’t point a finger at anyone else but himself for not being more careful. He buried his face in his hands with a long groan.

“Daddy?” A soft voice called.

“Not now Matthew…”

Matthew let out an anxious hum as if he was thinking something. Then Arthur felt something press into his side.

Arthur peered out from his hand-made cave. “Matthew?”

“You look sad and…”

Arthur smiled softly, tiredly. He picked the boy up and placed him on his lap. “I’m not sad my dear. Just…tired.”

“Then you should have a nap.”

Arthur chuckled, pulling the boy. “Unfortunately, it’s not as easy as that poppet.”

Matthew bit his lip and tilted his head.

“You’ll…You’ll understand when you’re older” Arthur explained, tucking a curl behind Matthew’s ear. Hopefully, he would be older soon.

Matthew clung to him, squeezing tightly as if he could squeeze all the tiredness out of Arthur. Even at four years old, Matthew was always so considerate.

“Tell you what? How about we put together some sandwiches and head outside for the afternoon? You can help me feed the girls, and then we can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Mhm.”

“Mmm…I think I’ll have to think about it.”

“You do that. I have to prepare our lunch after all.”

- - -

Matthew waited patiently, rolling between the balls of his feet and his heels. Arthur chuckled slightly as he put the last containers into the basket. He let out a satisfied sigh as he closed it up. “Ready to go, love?”

“Mhm!”

Arthur offered a hand to the boy, who gladly took it. Matthew tried to skip along ahead, only to be pulled back by Arthur lagging behind. “Slow down Matthew, I’m not as spry as I used to be.”

Matthew bit his lip and looked up at him with large eyes. “I-I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize. No harm done.”

“O-Okay.”

Arthur headed over to the table and chair set sitting underneath the oak in the center of his garden. He put down the picnic basket and turned back to Matthew.

“Now, shall we go tend to our lovely ladies?” Arthur asked, crouching down slightly.

Matthew gave a wide smile before dashing towards the chicken coop that sat in the upper right corner. Arthur followed after him, pulling out the bag of feed from the shed. Matthew was already at the pen, small fingers gripping the fence. The four chickens all gathered around him, clucking curiously.

“Hello Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and…” Matthew’s lip jutted out squinting his eyes, " Oh, and Thyme! “We have lunch!”

“Good lad.” Arthur opened the gate and gestured Matthew in. The boy stepped in, bobbing his head along like the chickens, bending his arms like wings. For a moment, Arthur stood to the side and watched the chickens and Matthew march around the pen in a line.

“Okay, okay you five,” Arthur giggled, “Time to eat.”

“Okay!” Matthew rushed back to Arthur’s side.

“Now, you can’t toss too much, so grab a small handful like this.” Arthur scooped up some of the oats, filling up no more than half of his palm, and tossed it to the awaiting chickens.

Matthew clapped his hands and picked up his own scoop of feed with two hands. His pile was a little bigger than Arthur would have liked, but it was fine. A little extra treat for his girls.

The chickens pecked away at the food. Matthew reached out to pet Sage who was eagerly gobbling. Arthur was quick to bat his hand away.

“Matthew, do not pet an animal when it's eating,” Arthur chastised.

Matthew pulled his hand to his chest, looking at Arthur with glassy eyes.

Arthur crouched down with a sigh. “Oh come now, love. There is no need for tears. You’re not in trouble. I just didn’t want Sage to think you were trying to steal her food, and you get hurt because she got angry.”

Matthew turned back to Sage. “I just want to pet you, Sage. I’m not going to take your food.” He reached out his hand again.

“Matthew Williams, it is dangerous to bug an animal when she’s eating. I thought you of all people would–” Arthur stopped himself. Matthew was a little boy now. There was no telling how much of his adult memories and knowledge he retained. Arthur took a deep breath, counted to ten, and placed a hand on Matthew’s shoulder.

The boy’s eyes welled with tears. “B-But I told her I was just petting her.”

“I know. But animals don’t always understand us. It’s best if we just let them eat. You wouldn’t want anyone bugging you while you ate, would you?”

Matthew shook his head slowly, gaze falling to his feet.

“Plus, I have one more little chick to feed,” Arthur added, tickling Matthew’s sides.

Tears soon turned into bubbling laughter, Matthew desperately trying to push Arthur’s hands away. “Daddy…D-Daddy stop it!” he squealed and wriggled.

“Not until those tears are dry.”

Matthew rubbed his eyes. “Okay, Okay. All done.”

“That’s my boy. Now, lunch.”

Matthew nodded, making grabby hands to be picked up. Arthur lifted him high into the air before settling Matthew against his chest. They made their way back over to the table and basket.

[dusterson]

∎ @waterandflesh

It'd been a long time since he visited this farm. Granted, the last time he had was years back when he'd first moved to Hawkins, and upon clambering into the barn discovered it was not abandoned but rather quite occupied and active, so had hidden in a haybale until he could make his escape. You never knew with farmers; some would shoot on sight, after all. This time though Dustin was neither eleven, nor was he so afraid of getting shot. Frankly, trouble was precisely what he was looking to get into. It was risky, but also familiar.

The window he'd climbed out of years ago was still there, and after hefting it open and climbing through he was happy to find a pile of hay still there. Landing in it with a soft puff however, he took a small whiff and grimaced at the mild, moldy-ice smell. Oh well, it's a fucking barn, what did he expect? It was warmer in here at least, and there was no way in hell his mother or anyone else, for that matter, would think to search for him here. Hell, maybe he'd visit a different police station if he was caught.

As he settled down in the hay, Dustin fished out his smokes and gave the animals in the barn a dirtier look than the stares they were giving him, lip curling in a sneer. "What, you want some? You'll die." Taking a few puffs, he waved a shooing hand at the animals peering in from the doorway. "The fuck off, this is my barn now. You want it back you better kick me for it, I'll fuckin' win." But his words did not deter the animals, but rather seemed to freak them out even more. As the horses whinnied and the cows stamped, squeals and fowl clucking and gobbling, Dustin mocked all their noises til he didn't even have the patience for that, and simply growled, "Shut the fuck uuuup!" Where he'd planned to take a nap, he spent the night instead cussing out and threatening the animals that dared continue looking into the barn and panicking.

He was so invested on making it well known he would beat the shit out of any one of the farm animals that he forgot to consider the concept of a farmer owning them and stumbling upon him, threatening to beat the shit out of their animals. "You're not even in here just go away!"

[frayazicat]

"Foghorn, you must remember who you ARE."

The image fades away in a gust of wind, leaving Foghorn Leghorn confused. Why did he have the sense that somewhere, sometime, that moment would have been a perfect moment for dramatic music?

Wait - what was music again?

Oh, well. It doesn't matter much. What does is that he's hungry, and everyone knows that you're not you when you're hungry.

He clucked his beak and turned away, looking for something to gobble up.

..What was he just thinking about?

(In the house, under the sound of tinkling cutlery, a family of four conversed with each other as they ate.

"Is this chicken?" One of the children asked while biting into a piece of fried meat. "It's good, where'd you get it, Dad?"

"Is it from KFC?"

"Nope," Replied the father. He spooned his mashed potatoes and peas together and raised them up to his mouth for a bite, "Home-grown.")

[affordableoutfitter]

10 Expert Tips for Texas Turkey Hunting Success

Turkey hunts in Texas offers enthusiasts an exhilarating outdoor adventure amidst the state's diverse landscapes. From rolling plains to dense forests, Texas provides ample opportunities for hunters to pursue this prized game bird. However, mastering the art of turkey hunting requires more than just luck. To increase your chances of success and make the most of your Texas turkey hunting experience, consider these ten expert tips:

1. Scout Early, Scout Often

Successful turkey hunting begins long before opening day. Start scouting the hunting area well in advance to identify turkey roosts, feeding areas, and travel routes. By understanding the bird's habits and patterns, you can pinpoint prime hunting locations and strategize accordingly.

2. Master Your Calls

Effective calling is essential for attracting turkeys within shooting range. Practice various turkey calls, including yelps, clucks, purrs, and gobbles, to mimic realistic hen sounds. Experiment with different calls and techniques to find what works best in your hunting area.

read more...

[besthuntgear]

Turkey Hunting

Turkey hunting in the United States is more than just a seasonal sport; it's a rich tradition that ties back to the very fabric of wildlife conservation and outdoor heritage. With each spring and fall, hunters across the country gear up with anticipation, ready to engage in a practice that tests their skills, patience, and respect for nature. Key Takeaways: - Turkey Hunting Regulations and Seasons: Varies by state, essential to know before heading out. - Essential Gear for Turkey Hunting: From camouflage to calls, knowing what to bring is crucial. - Scouting and Choosing a Hunting Spot: Successful hunts start with good preparation and understanding turkey behavior. - Turkey Calling Techniques: Effective communication can make or break a hunt. - Strategies for Successful Turkey Hunting: Adapting tactics to turkey behavior increases success rates. - Safety Measures and Ethical Considerations: Ensuring a safe and respectful hunt is paramount. Understanding Turkey Hunting Turkey hunting is a practice steeped in history, with the wild turkey playing a central role in North American wildlife. This bird, once on the brink of extinction, has flourished under careful conservation efforts, making turkey hunting not just a pursuit of game but a contribution to the turkey's sustainability. The thrill of the hunt, combined with the satisfaction of participating in conservation efforts, makes turkey hunting a unique and rewarding experience.   Turkey Hunting Regulations and Seasons Before you can even think about setting foot in the woods, it's crucial to familiarize yourself with the turkey hunting regulations and seasons in your state. These rules are not only in place to protect the turkey populations but also to ensure that the hunting practices contribute positively to wildlife management efforts. State Spring Season Dates Fall Season Dates Bag Limit Texas April 1 - May 14 Oct 1 - Nov 30 4 Turkeys Pennsylvania April 30 - May 31 Oct 31 - Nov 14 1 Turkey Missouri April 18 - May 8 Oct 1 - Oct 31 2 Turkeys Remember, these regulations can change, so always check the latest from your state's wildlife agency. Essential Gear for Turkey Hunting The right gear can make a significant difference in your turkey hunting success. Essential items include: - Camouflage: Blending in with your surroundings is critical. Turkeys have keen eyesight, making effective camouflage a must. - Turkey Calls: These are invaluable tools for attracting turkeys. Whether you use box calls, slate calls, or diaphragm calls, mastering these can greatly improve your chances. - Hunting Weapons: Whether you prefer a shotgun, bow, or crossbow, ensure it's suitable for turkey hunting and that you're proficient in its use. Scouting and Choosing a Hunting Spot Scouting is all about understanding turkey behavior and habitat. Look for signs of turkeys in the area, such as droppings, feathers, and scratchings. Pay attention to roosting spots, feeding areas, and travel routes. Sign Indicator Droppings Presence of turkeys in the area Feathers Roosting or dusting areas Scratchings Feeding behavior Choosing the right spot is a blend of art and science. Consider factors like the direction of the wind, the sun's position, and natural turkey pathways. A well-chosen spot can significantly increase your chances of encountering turkeys. Turkey Calling Techniques Calling is an art form that mimics the sounds of turkeys to attract them. The key is to sound as natural as possible. There are several types of calls: - Yelps: A basic turkey call that can signify a variety of behaviors. - Clucks and Puts: Indicate contentment and can be used to calm a wary turkey. - Gobbles: Can attract males but use with caution as it can also attract other hunters. Mastering these calls requires practice and patience but can be incredibly rewarding when a turkey responds. Turkey hunting is a multifaceted sport that combines skill, knowledge, and respect for nature. Whether you're a seasoned hunter or new to the sport, understanding the essentials—from regulations and gear to scouting and calling—lays the foundation for a successful and ethical hunt. Strategies for Successful Turkey Hunting When it comes to turkey hunting, strategy is everything. Understanding the behavior of turkeys throughout the day can significantly increase your chances of success. Early morning is often the best time to catch turkeys leaving their roosts, while late afternoon can be ideal for catching them before they settle down for the night. Using a combination of stealth, patience, and strategic calling can turn the tide in your favor. Time of Day Strategy Reason Early Morning Set up near roost sites Turkeys are leaving their roosts, more active Midday Patient calling Turkeys regrouping, may respond to calls Late Afternoon Ambush near roost sites Turkeys returning to roost, lower guard Adapting your strategy to the turkeys' behavior and the specific conditions of your hunting area is crucial. For instance, during the mating season, male turkeys are more responsive to calls. However, it's important to vary your calling technique to avoid making the turkeys wary. Safety Measures and Ethical Considerations Safety cannot be overstated in turkey hunting. Always be aware of your surroundings and ensure that you're visible to other hunters to avoid accidents. Wearing hunter orange when moving and setting up against a large tree can help make you more visible and protect you from stray shots. Safety Measure Purpose Hunter Orange Increases visibility to other hunters Check Fire Zones Ensures no hunters are in your line of fire Tree as Backdrop Protects against stray shots Ethical hunting practices are just as important as safety. This includes respecting the land, following all hunting regulations, and striving for a quick, humane kill. Ethical hunters also make an effort to use as much of their turkey as possible, reducing waste and honoring the animal's life. Frequently Asked Questions Begin by familiarizing yourself with local regulations and securing the necessary permits. Investing in the right gear and spending time practicing your calling and shooting skills are also crucial steps. Joining a local hunting club or finding a mentor can provide valuable hands-on learning opportunities.The best times are early morning and late afternoon. In the morning, turkeys are most active as they leave their roosts. In the late afternoon, they're looking for a place to settle down for the night, making them more susceptible to calls.Yes, bow hunting for turkeys is a popular and challenging method. It requires precision and patience, as well as a good understanding of turkey anatomy to ensure a humane kill. Practice and the right equipment are key to success in bow hunting for turkeys. Read the full article