#hoarding tw

[voughtz]

lil chibis doodles of some of the parents/parental figures of the main fl cast i did today for silly fun

[rainbowrosegames]

A Dog Without a Raft

(Poem about hoarder houses, by RainbowRoseGames)

Amid this journey on the sea

We'd find others who have boats

But for whatever reason they can never help us in our need

They'd give us advice and sometimes gloat

"You shouldn't try to boil the sea, it takes too long"

What's the point of it?

I don't want to boil the sea

All I want is to not have a fit

This damned mess is all that I see

How does one fend for themself

If they're never taught

How to even organize a shelf?

Now what kind of home is this?

Here on a trash island of the leaders' making

They want me to clean and simply not have a fit

You'd get fed up, too

If lying around in trash wasn't all that you could do

I'm supposed to love you

And I really do

But sometimes I hate you

For keeping me stranded on this island and not helping me all the while

I'm just a child

What do you want me to do?

I'm not going to fix everything for you

Maybe I'm being presumptuous

But what you do doesn't help fix the root of the problems

Even if you bake something scrumptious

I don't want to boil the sea

I just want someone or something to help me

What is the point of boiling the sea

If nobody helps me?

I didn't know even outsiders are worthless

But alas here we are

With no hope left in my heart

Why can't they boil the sea?

Why can't they even boil a bathtub?

I should consider this child labor

It feels like every responsibility is on me

And on my shoulders

Why do I have to act first?

I can't lift these boulders

Why can't the sea boil away?

This makeshift prison I'm living in feels like an ocean

I'm like some dog someone threw inside

I won't stay afloat over time as the time flies

Just want to escape

To never look back

And be self-sufficient

The sea is hot and it burns me and any residual hope of mine

All that I get are fake signs of a boil

Until the sea quickly cools down again

Will the sea boil this time?

Will their actions get us to shore?

Or will their paddling

Bring us somewhere worse?

Stop dawdling

Bring me to a real home

And not a trash island on the sea

I've been doing poetry lately and it helps me get through some stuff (mainly by trying to find out how to describe problems) and I figured I'd do one on hoarding and spread awareness. Often times people see videos of people cleaning hoarder houses that have all sorts of trash and pests and it's always some old lady who owns it. Hoarders don't need to be old or feeble, their houses don't need to be at such extreme conditions to be bad, or to affect household mental stability, and more terrifying of all, they can have children living in the houses with them. Why don't they just, y'know, get a cleaning crew? Or why didn't DSS or CPS find out? Usually they're good at hiding it, and are scared to get help because they're afraid authorities will take everything away from them, or some can be afraid to let go of things. It can depend greatly. And if they have children, the authorities will take everything away that they love, aka the children. This, and many other reasons, are why you don't just call authorities on someone. Please if you know someone with a hoarder type situation, just be there to support them, help them decide what to keep or get rid of, and DON'T just call authorities or cleaning crews without their explicit consent and/or knowledge.

[arctic-hands]

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE A HOARDING PROBLEM I MEAN IT I SAY THAT AS A PATHOLOGICAL HOARDER

ARGH and DAMMIT and GRR I just remembered I had a small little box recently that would be perfect for my next project but in the interest of fighting my quite severe hoarding instinct I threw it away

[thegnomelord]

You ever hear the gross stories about people putting peanut butter on their junk and having a dog lick it off? This sounds bad but stay with me here, imagine it's marakov doing this with hound. Like it's a humiliation thing to break hound down or something and drive it into his head that he's no better than an actual dog. Marakov starving hound for awhile so he's famished and then pulling the peanut butter out. If hound wants to eat then the only food he can have will be the peanut butter he'll have to lick off marakovs cock.

Oh fuck that is disgusting and SOOO something Makarov would do. So here's a lil ficlet cause you got my brain going Brrrr

CW:NSFW, MDNI, Makarov x male reader, blowjob, peanutbutter food sex, toxic relationship, dom/sub dub-con, rough and quick, I дворняга - mongrel, mutt есть - eat, нет - no.

Rough fingers grip your jaw until it hurts, Makarov's thumb pressing down on your tongue to keep it flush with the bottom of your mouth. Drool and a bit of blood run down your chin, a small puddle already forming between your folded knees. The fingers on of his other hand wiggle your canine, uncaring of how your jaw trembles in an attempt not to bite him.

"Poor дворняга," Makarov chuckles, "Not liking your new teeth?"

Your 'new' teeth hurt like hell and that's saying something, gums around them still raw and irritated, knives stabbing at your entire jaw and down your throat whenever he wiggles the tooth even slightly. But you can't show that, don't bite the hand that feeds. So you swallow the sound of pain bubbling in your chest and shake your head as much as he allows you to do so.

You can see his smirk past the tears blurring your vision. "Good dog." He chuckles, pulling his fingers from your mouth to pat your head. "You must be hungry."

You are. Starving. You can't remember the last time you've been fed, probably before Makarov had your canines ripped from your mouth and replaced with metal, but the constant pain buzzing in your body makes it hard to keep track as the days blur together. You wordlessly nod your head, knowing better than to speak when he hasn't given you permission yet (you doubt you even could with how much your jaw hurts.)

Makarov leans back on your bunk, letting go of your jaw to fiddle with the jar of peanut butter. Unscrewing the lid he dips his pointer finder in and scoops up a big dollop of it. He holds it out for you, resting the back of his finger on your tongue. "Есть." He orders, tone leaving no room for arguing and you're quick to close your lips around his finger, tongue moving to lick it clean and trying to avoid nudging your teeth.

You've always hated the stuff since Price got you to try some when you were in America, the taste and texture making your skin crawl, but right now it may as well be ichor of the gods. Your stomach rumbles at finally being able to devour something, even if it's just a small scoop of peanut butter.

You open your mouth when you're done, spit clinging to Makarov's finger, and try your best to make a small whine. "Good, finally learning." He hums and sets the jaw down, unbuckling his belt.

Your heart stutters and drops to your stomach as you watch Makarov fish his half hard cock from his boxers, only needing a few strokes to get him fully erect. Makarov laughs at the face you make when he scoops up a good amount of the peanut butter and uses it like lube on his cock.

"Oh, did you think you would just get to eat?" He snorts, holding the base of his cock, "Нет, нет, нет you dumb mutt." He spreads his legs wider, patting his thigh. "You'll have to work for it, now есть."

You hesitate, some meager part of your pride absolutely unwilling, your stomach telling you to forget about that. Makarov waits, judgmental eyes locked on you, easily able to see the turmoil swirling in your eyes. He knows how to be patient, while he usually wouldn't tolerate disobedience, he knows he can't set up a hunting dog for failure and expect success so soon into your training.

His efforts bear fruit and you slowly shuffle forward on your knees. Even starved as you are, the wide span of your shoulders still forces his legs to spread wider. You hesitate some more, looking past his cock up at him, wondering if he really wants you to do this; is this a reward or just another way to tear you down?

"Do not make me repeat myself." He says, voice even and cool, but you're still perceptive enough to notice the sharp edge of danger in his tone, like a knife pressed into your throat.

Tentatively you lean in, fists clenching against your thighs as your tongue lolls out to hesitantly lick at his shaft. He doesn't rush you, doesn't degrade you, but his hand does settle on the back of your skull. You freeze, but he only hums, "Good dog." His hips twitch until his shaft bumps against your nose.

The hand on your head keeps you from pulling away, and your hunger soon wins out so you give a few experimental kitten licks. You start at the bottom, still uneasy about this, your tongue licking across his knuckles. Makarov purrs something in Russian you're not familiar with, his tone not sweet enough to make you think it's an insult, so you slowly continue up his shaft.

His precum mixes with the peanut butter, giving it a saltier tang that makes disgust curl in your stomach, humiliation making your face burn. Even your mind mocks you; Price's voice echoes somewhere in your ears "This is why we left you, you were just waiting for a chance to be a terrorist's whore." but that voice slowly gets quieter as Makarov's hand pets your head, making thinking about anything but the creamy peanut butter on your tongue difficult.

"Good dog, doing so well for me." Makarov hums, a pleased sound escaping his chest. The pleasure your mouth brings is miniscule compared to the sight of you - on your knees, eyes slowly closing as your malleable mind settles into static, drool smeared lips wrapping around his head to suck all the food your tongue missed - oh it's something else. He's seen many powerful men brought down to their knees, but nothing has ever made him harder than you right now.

You pop off his cockhead, chest frantically moving to draw breath, unfocused eyes staring at his drooling head before you look up. "Now wasn't that a good treat?" He asks, receiving your mumble in return, using your spaced out mind to smear more peanut butter on his head. "But you missed a spot. Go on, есть."

[mars-paws]

This was definitely rigged something is up please don’t stay quiet about it.

Stay strong. Stay stubborn. Riot. Protest.

Because if we keep at it then this might not be over. Don’t let them have this.

Be loud for all those who can’t.

be alive for those who aren’t.

Do not let them win.

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober 8: Feeding/Stuffing + Cuckolding

Michael (Hoard) x Married!Milf!Older!Reader

Summary: Michael sure does love your cookies (derogatory).

Warnings: age gap (Michael 20s, Reader mid 30s), unhealthy food consumption, face stuffing kink, cheating/swinging/cuckolding, food sexual innuendos/puns

It’s odd. You specifically remember mothering two growing boys. But you’ve counted two growing boys and one fully grown man…

Michael lives next door at the Michelle residence, his foster mother’s home, along with his pregnant girlfriend. You’d think he’d stay clear of you, the ‘MILF with the Pink Flamingos’. Yet, he’s been in your kitchen several times anticipating your delicious baked goods.

He’s always responded well to your cooking. In fact, you remember the first time you and your husband had moved into the neighborhood, introducing yourselves to the neighbors when you’d approached Michael’s door with a platter of lemon cakes. He immediately gave you ‘the eye’ as he’d taken a bite of the confectionery, highly praising you and going for seconds—thirds. From the way he openly flirted with you, you assumed he knew exactly what you and your husband were into until you’d met his proper girlfriend who clearly isn’t one to fool around.

Still every evening, Michael would come over to your home, flirting and scarfing down whatever you gave him. A quiet sick part of you enjoyed seeing the way his belly would protrude after a satisfying home-cooked meal. You especially love it when he’d curl up against you on the couch —after hours when your husband and the kiddos are in bed—making you rub his tummy and soothe his hair.

Today is no different. There you are rubbing his belly on the couch and playing in his hair when he looks up at your lap.

“The meaning of those pink flamingos out there…do they have anything to do with why there are so many couples in the neighborhood competing for you and your partner’s attention?” Michael questions.

“Why yes,” You giggle, moving a strands of hair away from his forehead. “We’re swingers.”

“That explains why your husband doesn’t seem to mind my presence.” He says, snuggling more up against you.

“Oh, he does mind it,” You admit. “We only swing with open couples. You and your lover aren’t exactly open, are you? Anything happening between us would be considered cheating.”

“The wicked smile on your face tells me, you aren’t entirely against it.” Michael smirks, breath hitching when you dip your finger in his bellybutton before soothing over his happy trail.

“I’m a mother and a housewife, Michael. I don’t wreck homes, I remodel them,” You quip, tugging his hair as a gesture for him to rise up from your lap. He stares at you with both confusion and hurt as if feeling rejected. “My husband’s standing on a stair-step just out of view from our eyes but enough to where he can watch us. He doesn’t trust that you wouldn’t try anything with me despite the many nights you’ve rested in my lap.”

“Is he looking for a show?” Michael says, gripping the fat of your thighs.

“Maybe,” You answer. “Or maybe he’s just making sure you aren’t eating my cookies. He especially loves those and you didn’t leave not a crumble for him last time.”

You pick up a small cake from your tray, raising it up to his lips. “You can have as much cake as you want though.”

Michael smiles, widening his mouth to accept the sweet treat. You cram it in messily, your fingers coated with icing and cake fluff. He swirls his tongue around your fingers, sucking in earnest while maintaining eye contact with you.

When he’s done licking your fingers clean, he sighs happily. “Luckily for him, I’m big on cake-eating.”

[jedi-enthusiast]

Ok, so I'm watching 'Hoarders' right now while I'm writing, and in quite a few episodes do y'all know what the therapists keep mentioning?

Attachment.

On the specific episode I'm on now, one of the people isn't hoarding things, but cats. And the specific therapist working on the case says this after finding out that the person she's working with has hordes of dead cats as well as other dead animals:

"She has an attachment disorder. It's an inability to form normal relationships or to be able to let go." (paraphrased from memory)

These are trained professionals, in our real world, who are using the same terminology as the Jedi---who are working to teach the same things that the Jedi teach to those that they're working with. The person who's attached might think they love someone/something, and they might truly believe it, but their actions and their inability to let go of what they're attached to only causes pain and suffering to themselves and others.

Which, guess what? Is exactly what the Jedi teach!

If attachment manifests itself as hoarding and putting others in danger for themselves, no one would say that it's "actually healthy" or that the therapists trying to teach them to let go are "evil" and "don't allow them to have emotions," right?

And yet, when attachment manifests itself as obsession and putting others in danger for "someone else" (except it's actually themselves, because it's about how they don't want to lose the person they're attached to, no matter how the person feels about it), suddenly everyone is tripping over themselves to make think pieces about how attachment is healthy and how the Jedi are "evil" and "don't let people feel emotions," simply because they're teaching their members to let go.

It's literally the same thing, just with different manifestations of attachment.

So yeah, let's put another point in the- "anti-Jedi idiots have no fucking clue what they're talking about" -box.

[itsabouttimex2]

I’m really sorry for all the slow updates recently. Nothing is canceled or going on extended hiatus, least of all Eclipse Kings or A Brand New Journey.

I’ve been wanting to post more, but life has been getting rough in terms of dealing with my mother and my brother and I’s attempt to clean out her hoard- to the point that some behavior is beginning to resemble abuse as we attempt to remove both unused clothes and items covered in; put lightly, tons of mouse shit.

I’m working on it, and doing my best to remove as much as I can and get it out of the house for her, and hope to update soon.

Again, I’m very sorry.

[thebramblewood]

A lady vampire may be forced to spend half her day cooped up inside a dark coffin, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't always look her best. After all, you never know when an unexpected snack guest might arrive. And if you see a spot or two of blood... well, that's quite frankly none of your business!

CC linked below the cut!

Look 1: top + bottom + accessory bra / slippers / nails / towel (Spa Day)

Look 2: top + bottom / accessory robe / earrings / hair

Look 3: outfit (Simtimates) / blood 1 2 3 / hair

Look 4: outfit / accessory robe / hair

Look 5: outfit (Vintage Glamour)

Look 6: top / bottom / accessory robe / eye mask

Look 7: top + bottom

Look 8: outfit / hair

Look 9: outfit / hair

[rat-rosemary]

I need to write/draw C!Dream with hoarding/guarding behaviors because you guys have no idea how bad that fucks up your thinking. It makes you into a wild animal.

Techno jokingly reaching for one of Dream's apples while they're chilling together and Dream slapping his hand and becoming super defensive without even realizing. He's just short of growling at Techno, and just a second ago they were joking together

Him trying to act normal afterwards he's a little hunched over his things. A minute later he slides it all back into his inventory, saying that the mess was bothering him

When Punz and Dream are together then Dream will never leave anything of his on view, even while he cooks he angles himself to hide whatever he doing from Punz. He's not even doing it on purpose

Him guarding his territory. Punz rarely enters the prison because Dream always insists they have meetings elsewhere and always has an excuse of why they don't need to go in the prison rn

Having bunker after bunker filled with every type of item and backups for all those bunkers on top of that.

Tommy digs too deep one day and finds himself on seemingly endless hallways that just lead to storage after storage after storage

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

thinking about “i may not see you again” “it’s okay as long as I know you’re happy” as a perfect ending to c!tommy's character not just in the fact we may never see him again but it’s okay if we know he’s happy (bc like, tommyinnit spontaneously starts RPing as him sometimes, he’s an OC Haver who constantly brings up his blorbo to the point I’ve noticed and I literally don’t watch the guy, i highly doubt he'll stop all of a sudden he’s been doing it for years) but also in the sense that like. all of c!tommy's trauma was caused by adults who Did genuinely love and care for him in some fucked up way (be it as a brother, comrade, or protege-in-training) but used that love to control and hurt him and treat him like a shiny possession. c!jack affirming he is still loved and cared for but not pushing those boundaries and trying to Enforce their idea of what’s Best for him onto him is such a beautiful end to that pattern. c!tommy can be loved without being caged. sometimes loving someone is accepting you’ll never see them again and maybe that’s best. sometimes it’s letting them choose on their own terms. c!tommy was allowed such little autonomy bc he was seen as unable to know what would be best for Him. being able to be happy on his own terms is something he’s never really been allowed before. like hell even with clingyduo they’re great but they’re also, y’know, clingy, and that is an unhealthy trauma response. they’re not bad people for having it and they’re clearly doing a lot better by the epilogue, but even c!tommy's most positive relationships have had Issues with independence. the fact the last thing we see of c!tommy is him mentioning that he might not ever see someone again and them accepting it as long as it’s his choice while reaffirming that despite everything they love and care for him and want him to be happy is so cathartic and honestly such a sweet ending for him it makes me tear up to think about. the eternal cycle of toxic friendship he was stuck in for years is finally breaking, and he's able to be an autonomous human being even if it’s not what his friends selfishly think is Best For Him.

[penwrythe]

What's stopping the possibility of a ceasefire is pretty simple. Hamas is holding 239 Israeli civilians hostage including children and the elderly. What's happening in Palestine is a travesty and horrendous. But Israel can't initiate a ceasefire from the position they're in, so we need to be agitating for Hamas to release the hostages and call for a ceasefire instead.

NO GENOCIDE IS JUSTIFIABLE

HOW DOES THE KILLING OF INNOCENT PEOPLE ON THIS EXTREME LEVEL FORCE HAMAS TO RETURN HOSTAGES??

ISRAEL'S BOMBARDMENT AND INDISCRIMINATE SHOOTING IN GAZA THREATEN EVERYONE THERE INCLUDING DOCTORS JOURNALISTS CHILDREN ENTIRE FAMILIES AND THE HOSTAGES

EVERYONE IS TARGETED

YOU HAVE HOSPITALS BOMBED HOW ANY OF THIS IS JUSTIFIED

@sarroora @fairuzfan @palipunk @wearenotjustnumbers2

You know more about this than I do.

[ambivartence]

HANGYUL BAE173 ✧ ‘FIFTY-FIFTY’ (2024)

[thegnomelord]

speaking of cannibalism

...cannibalism drabble..with....idk any of the characters

Like how would they react to Cannibal!reader

-- 👾 anon

Hmmm idk

I feel Johnny would be the most into it, freaky fucker that he is would be both disgusted and weirdly turned on. Like some vires in his head would cross when he sees you - Teeth dyed dark crimson, blood staining your chin, a chunk of raw flesh hanging from your mouth like you're a rabid dog - and he would get so hard. He doesn't know why, it's just some stupid animal part of him is turned on by the savagery you show your victims.

Would probably beg you to sink your teeth into his flesh when you're fucking. Bite him wherever, he doesn't care, just bite him until he bleeds and moans, unable to tell why the pain turns to pleasure somewhere along the way to his brain. He get's incredibly hard from seeing blood weep from the bitemarks across his chest, almost blows his load when you use his blood to slick his cock up. And when your bloody teeth bite on his cock head? Oh instant nut.

And he gets so sensitive from just this one orgasm when he usually can go a few more rounds, shaking like a leaf and whining nonsensical words in some ungodly combination of Gaelic and English. Mark up his thighs when he's like that, take your time grinding his tensed flesh between your teeth and before you know it he's not only hard, but also cumming untouched.

[oatmilk-vampire]

Big thank you to my downbad cousin who is supplying me with these clips. Shame on yall for not showing me these sooner.

[anythinggoesemily]

I'm mad about him (I can't stop editing him)