#diy gone wrong

[shewantsitall]

I was trying to be more sustainable and also save a bit of money by dyeing a dress I wore once in a wedding last year and then having it altered by a friend's mom to wear for graduation... I burned it in the dyeing process... graduation is Saturday...I have to find a dress between now and Saturday. Help.

[voguegenics]

When DIY Fixes Go Wrong: A Middle-Aged Man's Saga

Ever stared at a broken faucet like you’re about to enter the UFC ring? 😂 This one’s for all the middle-aged men out there who swear they can fix anything (spoiler: you probably can’t, but we love you for trying). Trust me, it’s relatable. 👷‍♂️

Ah, the age-old dilemma of the middle-aged man: They see something broken, their pride kicks in, and they tell you and themselves, “I can fix this.” Maybe it’s the leaky faucet, the janky lawnmower, or that ancient TV remote he refuses to let go of because it’s “still got some life left in it.” Sound familiar? Well, buckle up, because we’re diving into the hilarious reality of the DIY fix-it guy,…

[mbrainspaz]

I'm not usually a cover up bad smells girlie--I like to find the source of the bad smell and clean it--but I can't exactly fix the fucked up landlord special plumbing in my rental shed so for now it's candles and hoping nothing explodes.

[tastethepainbowbitch]

Bad news: I accidentally stabbed myself like an idiot and my right hand is probably going to be completely fucking useless for the next 4-6 weeks

Good news: Once it heals, I will have acquired 2 sick ass scars in 2023

Bad news²: Both of the scars are the result of me being a fuckin dumbass

Good news²: At least the hand-stabbing scar will be because I'm a dumbass who injured myself making a Christmas gift for my mom because I love her

[tea-with-eleni]

Shoutout to our madlad neighbor Ben across the street who is probably responsible for the murder hornet my mother stepped on in our kitchen. At least, we think it was a murder hornet. It was too big and the sting was too painful for it to be much else.

we don't know he's responsible but he also brought in an obscene amount of sod over the last week so it's probably his fault somehow.

Other things Ben has done:

Installed new electrical wiring in his own attic. He is not an electrician.

Burned down his house via the faulty electrical wiring on Christmas Day 2018.

Designed a new house to go on top of the foundation despite the fact that he is neither an artist nor an architect. Our next door neighbor, an architect, told us this with mild horror. The man around the corner, our incredibly classy dentist, was likewise Aesthetically Offended.

Hired like two people to build the Arthur Dent eyesore of a house over the course of 2019.

Cut down a tree in his sideyard he didn't like by climbing said tree with a chainsaw and sawing off branches one at a time. Including the branch he was sitting on. My parents were getting their Best Lesbian Friend to help with some tree branches that fell in their yard at the time because she had a collection of chainsaws and is always down for a good time. She got distracted watching Ben because, "He's going to die."

Built his child one of those wooden backyard playset things.

Rented a cherry picker to deal with the rest of the branches on the tree in his sideyard. My parents had, at that point, hired some very nice people to help paint their house. They sat on our front porch and watched Ben run over the playset with the cherry picker. Also his fence. To quote one of them, "My brother could do that pretty cheap, but I'm not going to tell him. This is more fun."

Tore the bumper off his car trying to remove the stump left from his sideyard tree

Destroyed the fence, again, after renting some kind of heavy machinery to level part of his backyard.

Bought a plastic skeleton for his front yard in 2020. Moved and posed it every day in October. My parents noticed that he left the door for one of the trucks he'd rented unlocked and took the golden opportunity to prop the skeleton up in the driver's seat.

Bought some kind of very sweet and very cute large fluffy dog. Had to get surgery for the dog after it ate two pairs of socks and a towel. The dog has now recovered but is baffled by the way his lovely backyard fence keeps getting crushed by construction equipment.

To continue the skeleton army, he also bought one of those 12' skeletons last year. It was also posed daily along with the other, human-sized skeleton.

We're not really sure how Ben is still alive despite his best efforts. At any rate, murder hornets seem par for the course. He's actually a nice guy, just insane. The working theory is that he comes from family money and was one of those sheltered rich kids who was never allowed to play in the dirt as a child and is making up for lost time now.

[wwwwyamd]

i send my sister images and she sends me lovingly worded responses, so here’s a compilation of the sweaters i’ve sent her:

[darkxsoulzyx]

Trying my hand at a decommissioned DCA AU, Except it’s CO-OP mode and I dragged @garbagechocolate and @bbonkie with me hehehehehe ROOMMATES AU BAYBEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Warning!!: Robot parts and gore and stuff :)

I love them so much aaaaaaaaah 🕺🕺🕺

[kukkirankindon]

I made the sebby’s head things into a head band

It went wrong in every way possible. ☹️

[xcryinginguccix]

(slow damage spoilers: Madarame route)

I honestly think the reason why Towa's blond hair look so goddamn ugly is because either

1. He did it himself with bleach (bleached his hair like 3 times in a row with some kind of box lightener from 7/11)

2. Madarame did it for him because they were drunk and bored (this time they used 2 boxes of bleach in one night, doing it 6 times)

We all know those 2 motherfucker would never spend a dime on a professional hair stylist.

Slow damage? More like hair damage.

[0verseer-o9]

TW: CARTOON GORE +NUDITY??

the flesh that holds me back

[casa-domeupai]

Main bedroom update 2; Parquet Hibernation Tactics

Check out my post on what I've decided to do with the old parquet floor in my house!

Step into my home, where every room tells a story – a story of well, a parquet floor that’s seen better days. Yet another not-so-picture-perfect side of my home improvement saga. Let’s talk about this parquet floor – the one that, at first glance, might seem like a symphony of squares and brightness. But, and this is a big ‘but,’ I’ve got a confession to make. Brace yourself because, despite the…

[ageplay-may]

It’s Arts and Crafts day in class!

Did we have an oops? The sugar prompt is "Arts and Crafts (Gone Wrong)"!

Did we do something right? Spice is "Arts and Crafts (Gone Sexy)"!

---

Prompts || Ao3 Collection

Tags: @ageplay-may || #agepl4y may 2023

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[eupheme]

— renegade

joel miller x f!reader

rated E - 3k words

tags - light angst, established situationship, nightmares, mutual yearning, lots of pretending, soft!dom Joel, restraints, face fucking, fingering, PiV

a/n - inspired by ‘renegade’ by big red machine

“Is this why you’re here?” Joel asks you, shifting his hips, pushing himself deeper into your fist. His voice rough with sleep, the sound making you squirm behind him.

It was easy to pretend it was.

That it was just physical. Fucking the nightmares from your head - that it could be anyone else burying themselves inside you, and the outcome would be the same.

You sleep better here. Anything is better than a night spent alone in the room that isn’t yours, and never will be. Nightmares find you there - seeking out your sorrow, draining you dry.

When it becomes too much, as it often does, you go to him. Going out into the night, slipping like a ghost into the shadows.

Finding the familiar way to inside - finally able to breathe again when the window slides shut with a click. When you’re curled in his bed, the blankets pulled over you like a shield.

It will get you shot, one day. Sneaking in like this. With anyone else you might have been already - but not with Joel.

You think he doesn’t really mind your nightly visits. The way he keeps the crates stacked just so, beneath the fire escape.

How he only locks one side of the window after you leave - the other just out of the reach of your knife, when you wiggle the latch open from the outside.

It smells like him - these faded, patterned sheets. Ones he’d never pick out for himself, in another life.

Before.

Ones that you can’t imagine him not having, because this is the only way you know him.

The familiarity soothes you, even though he’s not here. Exhaustion starting to weigh you down, starting at the tips of your limbs and curling around you like vines.

Eyelids growing heavy, listening to the rain that’s just begun to sprinkle down. Drowning out the stomping rows of boots outside - a white noise that lulls you to sleep.

This time - you don’t dream.

———

He almost missed that you’re here. The sound of your breathing, the little hitches of breath while you sleep, engulfed by the downpour.

Only seeing the lump in the blankets as he sheds his rain-stained coat, the canvas soaked-though at the shoulders.

A mark deepening between his brows as he glances at your form - the jacket and pants thrown over the broken radiator. Moving to the window, flipping the latch on the left side back into place.

You’re slippery. Squeezing through cracks. Worming your way into his room and under the hardened armor of his skin.

For anyone else, this layer you’ve peeled back and crawled beneath would be no more than surface-level. An acquaintance, perhaps.

But with Joel, it’s so much more. It makes his skin itch, as if it was flayed back - exposed and raw.

Uncomfortable. But not unwelcome.

He hadn’t seen you today - the silent check he does. Just needing a glance of your hair, your shape in the crowd. It’s enough, a second in the long minutes and hours that make up his day.

It’s a small relief, a fresh breath of air he didn’t know he needed.

Silently, he strips down. Clothes folded on a chair with chipped paint - someone old DIY gone wrong. Looking like The End had already hit, years before it did.

A hand running through his hair, pushing the damp strands back, padding over to the edge of the bed.

“Come on, honey.” His words hold a softness that doesn’t exist when the sun is shining - a moment he knows you won’t remember.

Gently easing you over, so he can fit himself in behind you. Curling into your warmth, the blankets tucked back around you both.

The frown easing from his face when you murmur - face burrowing into the pillow, fingers brushing against the arm that wraps around your ribs. The hand that flattens against your stomach.

His name, no more than sleepy murmur, as you get comfortable again.

“Joel.”

He wonders if you’re dreaming about him.

He wonders if he’ll dream about you.

———

He’s solid, strong back and broad-shouldered. Shifting in the night to face away from you, as he often did. For comfort or another attempt to keep others out - a literal barrier - you’ll never know. Your chest presses against his spine, an arm curling around his waist.

Your eyes crack open. It’s still dark out, the sky just starting to streak with grey. You hadn’t slept long but you had slept soundly - the best you’ve had in days.

The tip of your nose brushes against the cotton of his shirt. Shifting so you can move higher, so it can skim against the base of his neck, instead. Press into the soft hair that curls - smelling like rain and sweat and him.

Your fingers trace the cotton at his hip, skim across the elastic waistline of his boxers. It had been over two weeks since you had last caved - had last come here.

It had been a good run. But the nightmares had come back - flashes of your past that you can’t bear to relive.

He shields you from them. Waking easily at the first sound of your muttering - his hand curling around your shoulder, low voice pulling you back out.

You know he understands. How he talks in his sleep as well, how you do the same for him. An unspoken agreement.

He shifts, against you. Only the slightest change in his breathing - he can wake from a dead sleep in an instant.

A hand, warm and calloused, finding yours as it brushes the strip of bare skin where his shirt has ridden up.

Dragging your hand down, to where he strains against the fabric. The pressure of his fingers curling yours around his length as he groans.

His hand leaves yours to tug down the waistband, removing the barrier between your palm and his hot, bare skin. Pushing them down his thighs, kicking them off to twist in the blankets.

The tip of your thumb brushes over the head, smearing precum over the tip. Air hisses between clenched teeth as he inhales, as you press yourself closer, crushing yourself against him as your arm pumps.

“Is this why you’re here?” Joel asks you, shifting his hips, pushing himself deeper into your fist. His voice rough with sleep, the sound making you squirm behind him.

It was easy to pretend it was.

That he didn’t go to bed hard, like this - the only thing keeping him from waking you up was knowing how much you needed the sleep.

That it was just physical. Fucking the nightmares from your head - that it could be anyone else burying themselves inside you, and the outcome would be the same.

It’s a lie, though. You both know it.

He’s the only one you go to. You’re the only one he’s let in.

You hum your response, trying to peek over the bulk of his shoulder. To watch him fucking your hand, skin sliding against skin.

Lips press against his neck again and he shudders. Moving your hand from him, twisting in your grip until you’re trapped beneath the spread of thick thighs.

The heavy jut of his flushed cock swaying, as he adjusts himself on top of you. Leaving a damp patch smeared across your breast, as he takes himself in his hand again.

He hasn’t meant to end up quite like this.

Had just wanted you warm and soft beneath him. Moving up too high on your waist on accident - still hazy with sleep - ending up with your arms pinned against your sides.

Making to move, until he sees the way you’re focused on his hand, your lips parting. Showing off a pink flash of tongue. Fingers gripping on to his ankles - the only part of him you can reach - nails digging in.

“You want this?” He asks, stroking himself - his fist fitting in the valley between your breasts. His other hand cupping his sack, squeezing.

Leaving you to watch the flex of his forearm, the flushed tip appearing between thumb and forefinger. Nodding, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips.

“Ask me for it.” It’s not a request, his head tilting as your hands tighten around him.

As he angles his cock down, shifting until it’s hovering, just out of reach. Your chin lifts, mouth opening as your eyes fix on his.

Joel’s jaw grits. You can see the heave of his chest, the hand cupping himself dropping to the curve of your breast. Thumb rolling over the tight bud - the sensation dulled by your thin top, but it’s him and your body still sings.

You crack first.

“Wanna taste you.” Your eyes are still on him, can see the way he swallows hard, how he shifts over you.

“Fuck, baby.” He growls. The hand around his cock drops to curl around the back of your neck, twisting in your hair to angle you.

All while he moves forward, pressing himself against the flat of your tongue. Where you’re open and waiting for the weight of his cock, to taste the salt of his skin and the drop that still clings to the tip.

Wet and aching for him already - a dull thudding between your thighs, where they press and rub together.

You groan, as he inches inside. Lips wrapping around and sucking, causing him to hiss out a breath, his hips hitching.

Nudging him a little too deep, as you cough - tears springing to your eyes. He shifts back with soothing words, the hand on your breast moving to cup your jaw - thumb rubbing against your cheek.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” There’s a pinch to his brow, your head shaking minutely to tell him it’s fine. A second, as he thinks, “Tap my leg if it’s too much. You got that?”

He waits for you to listen, giving an experimental tap. Before he tries again - hips rocking, a slow and shallow press into your mouth.

You take him, relaxing into the cup of his hand. Eyes wandering across his stomach, chest - whatever you can see when he draws back. Closing, so you can listen to the groans that reverberate in his chest. Letting him use you, to fuck your mouth - trusting him, putting yourself in his hands.

A hand that flexes and twists in your hair. His thumb of the other sweeping against your cheekbone, the hollow under your eye - brushing away the tear that glistens against your skin.

So tender it makes your chest ache. Fingers curling against his leg, squeezing. He’s pulling himself from you, then - out of the warmth of your mouth, as you swallow.

Trying to protest that it wasn’t the signal, your lips glossy and shining. He’s shifting back, nudging your thighs wide to fit between them. Lowering himself down, his cock wet and thick and digging into your hip.

“I know.” He murmurs. Before his mouth presses to yours, the kiss sloppy. Tongue brushing where his cock had been, as he tugs at the waistband of your underwear.

Dragging them down to join his, fingers dipping between your thighs. Groaning into your mouth when he feels how wet you are from sucking him off, the tips pressing and circling against your clit.

You whine his name, the stubble on his cheek scraping against your skin. Breath hot in your ear as his weight pins you down. Thumb smearing your slick across your clit, so he can fit a finger inside.

You’re tight, molten hot. Gripping him already as you arch into him, as he slips in another. Curling them until they drag against a spot that makes you moan - strung tight beneath him.

He need to calm down, make you come, before he fucks you. A pressure swiftly building in his belly when he watched you, the trust in the way you took him.

The sound of his fingers is loud, the wet suck as he fits in a third. Stretching you out, each of your breaths harsh, your nails biting into his skin.

Already so needy, already near the edge. Each of your breaths coming shorter as his hips press against yours. Letting your fingers drift to feel the hard curve of his cock, hearing his grunt in your ear when you tug on him.

“Don’t worry about me.” He groans, voice rough before his lips press against the column of your neck.

As if you ever weren’t.

As if you didn’t always want him.

His words were unneeded, because you’re losing concentration quickly. Only focused on the tension in your belly - the pressure like a finger squeezing down the trigger, about to fire.

He’s relentless, fingers pounding, the wet flick of his thumb. Feeling your racing pulse beneath his lips, the sharp gasp of each breath, your muscles flexing.

Tightening around him until that tension snaps. Pleasure thrumming through you as you buck into his hand, your mind going blissfully blank and fuzzy - your moan strung out and pitched high.

Missing his words, feeling the brush of his other hand over your legs, smoothing over your hips. You can just make out the timbre, leaving you to imagine the rest.

Christ, just like that.

Good fucking girl.

Fingers slow as he pushes himself up, only removing them to tug at your shirt - pulling his own from his shoulders.

Folding himself between your limp, spread thighs, before hooking his elbows under your knees. Opening you up, where you’re soaked and the fluttering is still ebbing.

The twist of his wrist as he lines himself up - smearing his tip across your slit. The briefest tease, indulgence, before he slides in. Sinking inside of your tight heat in a long, fluid motion.

“Fuck, I missed you.” You breathe, brow pinched as he fills a chasm you didn’t realize you had.

His breath comes out ragged.

It’s not in the script. The words you both know. No, this had come from the soft pulp of your heart, a late night confession.

He doesn’t know how to take it. Mouth crushing against yours as he sinks deeper, swallowing your words to keep them safe.

Trying not to think about how his own answer had sprung to his lips, unbidden. It’s dangerous. To think like that, to have any sort of claim on anything, now.

It’s easier to pretend you just miss his cock.

That you just came here to forget.

That’s something he can do - drawing his hips back, snapping back in. Watching the way your tits bounce, everything softened and hazy with the thin grey light that creeps in.

Shifting, lifting a leg to brace on his shoulder, pushing him deeper as you gasp. The other pressing against his ribs, curling around his waist.

Freeing up his arms so he can taste your release on his fingertips. Licking you from him before he presses the calloused pads against your own mouth.

You take him, tongue curling around spit-slicked fingers. Tasting yourself on them, your sighs muffled when he presses down on your tongue.

Thumb dragging against your lower lip, before he pulls himself from the heat of your pretty mouth. Finding his way to where you take him, tracing slick fingers up your slit. Feeling where you’re stretched wide around him, puffy and slick.

Teasing at your clit - as your hands clench in the sheets, twisted up near your ears.

In a world where the right protection can mean life or death - where a bite can end everything - it’s a wonder how you bare yourself to him. His hand ghosting across soft skin, from breasts to hip. Fingertips indenting flesh, gripping, pulling, tugging.

Watching with greedy eyes how you gaze up at him, an ankle digging into his shoulder - trying to force him deeper. He leans forward, putting more force behind his thrusts, watching the way your lips part with a soft “ah!” with every breath.

Fingers pressing and swiping against the tight bud of your clit, the way he knows you like it.

He needed this too - to bury himself in you. Feel the way you wrap tight and warm around him. His own tongue loosened like this, his own release building again.

“Christ, look at you.” He grits out.

Admiring. It makes you preen, lips stretched wide in a grin, a bright flash of teeth in the dark. Eyes half-lidded and heavy, doing your own slow sweep.

Over a tight waist that your leg hooks around. Bare stomach and broad chest, dusted with dark hair, only the slightest hint of grey. Not like the strands at his temples, the ones that streak throughout the curls. Peppering his facial hair.

Ruining you again. It had been a long time since you wanted something, and you can’t get him out of your head. Always coming back, even though you’re sure it won’t end well.

Because nothing does, any more.

You won’t let your soft heart ruin tonight. Not when his thumb sweeps across your hip. His eyes dark and glittering as he watches your face, as he works you up again.

The sharp rut of his cock and swirl of his fingers so perfect, that the tears start to well up, again.

“Joel,” You say his name again, “F-fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You felt like heaven on his fingers - tight and hot and sopping wet for him. It doesn’t hold a candle to now, how you squirm beneath him, the slap of his skin against yours.

The snug fit of your cunt, as you clench around him.

“Want you to.” He rasps out, resisting the urge to fuck you harder, faster. Keeping the same pace, the same circle of his fingers, “Let me feel you, baby.”

Need you to.

You come with a cry. Back bowing against the mattress, limb wrapping around him. Turning his thrusts into a sloppy grind, your hands coming to grip at his forearms. The waves crashing over you stronger and longer than before, your vision turning dark and hazy.

“Fuck. Fuck-” He growls - as the tight pulse pulls him to the edge.

It’s too much.

It’s all he can think about, as he pulls himself from you. Fisting his cock, jerking himself until he spills across your mound, your slick pussy.

How he wishes he could have stay buried, throbbing inside you, coating your walls with his release. Marking you, only pulling out so he can watch it leak from you later.

The word echos in his ears, layered with the thudding of his heart.

Dangerous.

———

You’re gone, when he wakes up.

The hazy morning sun is just barely casting warm rays of light onto the worn wooden floorboards as he drags himself from bed - a hand passing over his face, pressing into his eyes.

Pushing himself up, making his way over to the window.

But there’s nothing - just puddles collecting in the broken ridges of the roads. The streets washed clean from the rain.

Fingers drift, tracing up the cool frame of the window, until it’s touching the chipped white paint of the latch. Lost in thought for a long moment - before his hand drops back down to the sill.

He leaves the right side unlocked.

thank you so much for reading! 💕

[minhohours]

what i want | han jisung & hwang hyunjin

Pairing: Jisung x F!Reader x Hyunjin

Summary: you've been their roommate for a few months. you haven't left their minds for a few months. they thought that they'd be happy with silently fantasizing about you. they were dead wrong. one night, they decide to talk to you, a real, honest talk, and they discover just how far you are willing to go for them

Genre: smut

Content: non idol! hyunsung, teasing, threesome, dirty talk, begging, fingering, groping, dry humping, oral (f & m recieving), diy bondage, body worship, boob/nipple play, deep throating, penetration, deep throating while being penetrated, protected sex, overstim

You look down and.. uh oh! Your hole is gone. Where there used to be your genitals, it's just as smooth as a barbie.

"It's gone?" Jisung asks.

"Yeah..." you say.

Hyunjin takes a look.

"Yeah, it's gone," he says with a sigh.

"Well that sucks," you say. Now how are you supposed to have a threesome?

Hyunjin looks up from your flat area. "You should probably see a doctor about that."

"I guess..."

The next day you go to your doctor, who also happens to be Hyunjin.

"Damn... It's still gone," Dr. Hyunjin says professionally. "I was hoping this would've fixed itself overnight. He openly googles 'my patient is flat what do i do????' and no results show up, because Google is a terrible search engine.

And so, you are cursed to be completely flat down there for the rest of your life. Sad!

[dol-dee]

Limone the Human

Name: Limone (Lee-moh-neh) Age: Old Enough Species: HUMAN! :) Plant Person Pronouns: They/Them Height: 153cm “I was voted most boring human at my school!”

Limone is a human! One of the most normal ones around, they will assure you. Please ignore their yellowish complexion, vibrant green hair and leaf ‘accessory’. Those are just fashion statements. Well. Not the skin, that's just how they were born! They’d appreciate it if you didn’t make fun of it.

Fun facts:

They're a plant person but not quite. Some misplaced humanity but not enough to count as human. Limone might be doomed to a miserable and lonely existence.

Limone can morph and freely change their body (with some exceptions). Their regular "standard" appearance is that of a short stack. They purposefully keep more humanoid features (like blunt teeth and a shorter tongue)

Very hedonistic, will often do "whatevers easiest"

Lacks Object permanence (this extends towards people)

They're very used to leaving and being left. They don't really register it and will move on easily. (If you ghost them, that is.)

Is a quasi divorcee and was (technically is) married to a priest

Limone vacillates between extreme emotional states (boredom, depression, apathy & extreme euphoria and giddiness).

They regularly squish their own undesirable memories/sensations or Inflict Emotional Amnesia onto themself, with some quick n easy DIY lobotomy.

Even though their memories dont remain in the waking world, they occasionally return as nightmares. Haunting their subconscious mind.

Quick to self harm. Its the easiest outlet they have, whenever they don't understand or are unable to deal with emotional turmoil . To be fair. it doesnt matter much. they regenerate quickly.

Their tendency to hyperfixate on people has let to many an accidental love bombing. Its a little like the sun decided to shine its warmest, most pleasant ray on you. It gets cold quick if or when they they lose interest and move on.

They keep a personal Encyclopedia on the people that they get hyper invested in. It looks like something a stalker would make. ...only they aren't a stalker. They just hyperfixate on people and don't see anything wrong with their little hobby. It includes tame stuff, like, extensive doodles, the persons fashion, color, scent, favorite hobbies/media and food preferences. All the way down to what that persons blood, cum, or tears taste like and which one they like best.

They've never actually gone to school

Friends(?) with Harper, they sell their nectar to her on the side for quick cash and keep a variety of part time jobs until they grow bored of them. Harper is equal parts fascinated and annoyed with Limone since none of her experiments seem to work on them. (Yes. Limone unconsciously contributes to the corruption of the town)

The first fully lucid human they interacted with was Eden. She quickly regretted kidnapping Limone.