#i feel like everything i create is garbage

[kaiserouo]

i need more rhino heirloom art

[arcane-vagabond]

.

[puke-ur-gutz]

what if i fr did it

[shireduchess]

,.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Nature vs Nurture (monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

The new world order - monsters on top, creating the perfect dystopia for humans. You are nothing but a pet to them, a breeding mare for their perverse desires…and now you've finally been claimed by their colonel. Good luck.

Tags and TW: Dub-con, monster fucking, size kink, power imbalance, dumbification, pet play, dystopia, obsessive Konig, tentacle monster Konig, oviposition, breeding. AO3

It was supposed to be a supply run. Fast, quick, stealthy. In and out, the ruins of the abandoned store not so far from your hiding spot. Whatever you could find, some canned food – maybe, but not realistically. Some rubble and garbage that could be exchanged for food for triple the price it was – possible. Realistic. 

It was supposed to be a quick supply run. Like a rabbit out of her hole – but not really a rabbit, not even having the courtesy of strong legs and long ears that could spot anyone from a mile away. No, of course not – the universe wasn’t feeling particularly merciful when you were born a human in the age before monsters decided they didn’t want to be servants anymore. You think you remember going to the store like a normal person. Picking up a cart, hauling anything you could afford – not bothering about a lot of things. 

There are still stores, you think. Remesances of capitalism, working only for monsters – whatever crude economy they were building, it stayed in the cities. In the military bases, were filled with monsters even before the uprising. Not here, in the wasteland – it belongs to humans, as little as there were left. 

It was supposed to be a quick supply run for you and your friends – but you were dumb, but you were careless, but you grew accustomed to being the only one here, you didn’t even spot a patrol. Nasty fuckers, getting humans off the abandoned streets – you tried to fight and it didn’t work. Tried to run, and they were faster. Always faster. You should have been quicker, you shouldn’t have been a human – but you are, your soft self still not hardened by the life on the run, so you weren’t put out of your misery as you saw some other humans who got caught. Monsters took pity on you – or, perhaps, your submissiveness finally paid off. You were shown off the corner of a store – a human store, as you read, the words burning in your mind. You heard the stories about humans – attractive, soft people, mostly weak and obedient – who were snatched off the streets to do god knows what. Monsters can’t breed on their own, you remembered. 

You can hear the voices coming somewhere in the hallway, a good few meters away from your cage. You force yourself to stay as far from the bars as possible, not wanting to attract attention. Not even want to bother yourself with trying to see what your captors look like – monsters can take on human appearance and you’d rather live without seeing a human pet trader looking like someone who could have been your neighbor before the uprising. You curl in a ball, hugging your knees. Sobbing softly, quietly – knowing that there is no way out of here now. Not even other humans would help you now. “Just got new batch, colonel. Doesn’t look like a resistance member” “Ja, I heard that the last time. Schlampe killed all the hatchlings the second they were born.” “W…we didn’t know, sir! I promise, it was a…” “You can’t even breed them properly. There wasn’t any new humans in months, wolf” “Humans are…delicate, sir. They don’t want to breed in captivity.” “Make them then.” You hear something heavy shuffling around. You hear heavy footsteps that are making the flimsy flor of your cage shake. Even monsters have their disputes – but you can’t bother with caring when you hear footsteps approaching. Large shadow casting down on you. Making you feel even more small and miserable than you did before. Your head hurts. Your stomach hurts. Your everything hurts. 

Someone is staring at you. You see…someone. Humanoid silhouette – too big to belong to a human, at least 7 feet tall and broader than the entirety of your cage. You whimper when the creature tilts its head to the side, a surprisingly boyish tone of his voice grasping on your panicking mind. It isn’t the one that captured you but, for some reason, you can sense that he is even more dangerous. There is something on his uniform – some decorations, you think. Soldiers from the age before the uprising are all have quite high ranks in the new society – if they are monsters, that is. Large, droopy red tentacle falls from the guy’s hood. Definitely a monster. 

— Come closer, human. You whimper, trying to get up – only to get as far away from him as possible. You’re terrified, but he only hums in acknowledgment. A group of tentacles rising from under his hood, pushing you towards him through the bars. You were never more thankful for being locked away. 

— Disobedient. Or just dumb? 

— I d…don’t…

You cry, not wanting to give an answer – too disoriented, your nostrils are filled with the smell of sea and blood. You feel light-headed, dizzy, you’re hungry and dehydrated and you don’t know how could you even proceed to resist when one of his tentacles goes through the bars of your cage. Caresses your face, surprisingly gentle. Smearing cold slime around your skin, but even this is a welcoming feeling – you’d take everything that isn’t damp air of the human compound and the old sweat tattering your skin. You’d give anything for a bath right now. At least a few wet wipes, to wash the grime off your face – to stop feeling like an animal even though you know you’re already been reduced to one. — Just dumb, then. Gut. Monster caresses your face for a while, admiring your features. Salty tears feel like heaven on his tentacles – you can’t possibly see him, but he is grinning under that weird hood of his, adoring how obedient you are. It might be just exhaustion, but he missed humans like this – broken and abandoned. Soft and adorable, crying at the brim of a hat. König is going to have a lot of fun breaking you in – you couldn’t possibly be worse than the last wife he took. He wants to see you round and filled with his eggs. He wants you to see you cry for his cock, begging him to fill you up like the dumb, pathetic human you are. He wants to lay in the nest with you, pressing his body against yours – stealing the coolness of your body, covering you with his tentacles like a perfect chewing toy. He wants to… — Ah, sir. This is the new one. Just took her yesterday. 

A merchant smiles, slimy face spreading in a wide grin. Tentacles retreat from your face and shoulders immediately, only leaving a small trace of liquid over your features. If you were dumb enough, you could have sworn the monster was affectionate – but you don’t want to be dumb. Can’t survive in this world only on silliness, unfortunately. — I will take this one. — B…but it isn’t properly domesticated yet! You know how wild strays can be, colonel… — I thought you said all pets were properly obedient? 

— W…well, of course, sir, but… — I don’t need a trained slut to carry my eggs. This one would do nicely. Consider this your sacrifice to the order, ja? Before you know it, the merchant showed you in the hands of a giant man. Colonel, as you heard – not knowing proper military ranks, you wonder how high it can be. Or low. Monsters only value power and personal strength – and the merchant was fucking terrified of the tentacle creature who was holding you right now. Perhaps, you should have tried your chances of running away and being killed. Perhaps, you should have slowly died of hunger instead of coming out for supplies. `You’re held high in the air – too high for your liking. The monster presses you against his chest like he expects you to run away any second now – and you want to, really, nothing you’d love more but to simply jump off and run for the hills. But you’re too exhausted, the hunger sitting deep in your empty stomach makes you think that, maybe, for whatever reason this monster bought you for, he’d at least feed you. Maybe turn you into a pet – this is why there are stores for captured humans, right? Humans were treating their pets nicely, maybe the monster wouldn’t be too far off. Tentacles are swirling around your legs, around your hands – now you can’t even move your neck properly, cheek squished against a warm chest. This monster is a weird one – it’s like he can’t stop his tentacles from touching you, the cold tips of his tendrils spreading slime on the dryness of your skin. His body is warmer than any human would be, and his tentacles are cold – the contrast against your naked skin, barely covered by your torn clothes, is making you crazy. Making you think about weird things – like the monster reproduction again. Like your empty tummy, like the friends you left at the compound when you were supposed to go for supplies. Not getting captured by one of the monster higher-ups.

— You’re soft for a human. You weren’t even sure he was talking to you at first. You’ve been walking for a couple of minutes before you could finally hear some traces of civilization. Roaring vehicles. Gunfire. Laugh and groans – moans, too, to your surprise, not all of them very pain-induced. Your face is still pressed in his chest, you can’t see anything meaningful – but he stops in some corner, you think, covering you in his arms like a package he needed to deliver. You aren’t sure if you remember what the word “package” means. Something naughty, you think. — Quiet, too. 

You still don’t answer, and he hums. Pushes you on the ground, suddenly – you fall on your ass, yelping in pain and surprise as you lay on something softer than a concrete floor. It’s a pile of mattresses, you realize. You’re in a room, you realize – still too dizzy after everything that’s happened, you didn’t even notice when he entered the building and pushed you away from the sounds of life you wanted to hear so much of. You’re sitting on your ass on the pile of soft, rotten mattresses – a faint smell of decay builds up in your nose, but you can’t even concentrate. The tentacles are spreading your legs suddenly – you cry and whimper, your walls breaking down to reveal a soft center because the monster tears away your pants with ease. Your clothes weren’t much, to begin with, dirty and torn after the capture – still, you don’t want to be naked in front of him. You don’t want to be naked in front of anyone. 

— Spread your legs, human. You don’t want to, but you obey – you don’t wish to give him an opportunity to pry your legs open, to use force and make your life even more miserable. You know that being so obedient is kind of pathetic but, honestly, you couldn’t care less at this point. If being pathetic would save you from a broken leg, you will spread yourself open. Place each ankle on the side of the rotten mattress, not even caring that the thing fabric of your clothes – whatever little is left there – is slowly whiskered away by the tentacles. His hands are worse, somehow. He pushes your legs a bit wider, making you hiss from the stretch – and then he tears off your underwear. Not even letting you a chance to save your dignity – before you could cover yourself with your hands, at least, he is already launched at your cunt, smaller tendrils swirling around your core. You’re dry, obviously – and the monster tilts his head to the side. Acknowledging. Looking. He isn’t soft in his movements and the prying attention makes you embarrassed – if your legs weren’t in hid hold already, you’d try to close them. To save yourself. His motives are obvious, his intentions are clear – still, you sob and whine i his hold when his hand slowly presses on the button of your clit. The colonel – you try to remember this, it’s probably important –  is somewhat slow – he pushes your inner lips, spreads your hole as much as you can with a meager amount of fluid from the slime of his tendrils and, somehow, you find yourself getting aroused. Maybe, it’s his attention – he isn’t laying his eyes off you, and it almost makes you blush too much. He is adorable in this way if a monster of his regard can even be called this – and you’re freaking terrified when he goes closer, looks at you even more. 

His hand is making squelching sounds as your cunt becomes wetter by the second – it’s the first time in forever you had this kind of attention, and surviving the monster revolution didn’t exactly help with getting the edge off. You’re desperate for anyone to touch you – and the monster has beautiful hands. Big and burly, with tendrils sometimes running around to add even more lube – you know you’d never get anything like this with a normal human. — Need to check you first, Maus. The merchant keeps sending me infertile ones. You don’t know what he is talking about – but his hand lays flat on your tummy, putting you in place, and the larger tentacle – big, slimy one, with uneven structure with little bumps that made you wonder how it’s even going to fit inside – slowly creps to your sloppy, wet opening. It doesn’t hurt, you’re wet and open – something in the lube he extracted made you dizzy, dumb, you don’t even know when you spread your legs a bit more and welcomed the intrusion. It feels right, it feels wrong, it feels like the thing to die for – it feels like something that could kill you. He laughs and it sends slow rumbles right to the tendril penetrating your pussy. The pressure on your clit is too much – and your brain is to foggy to think that it reminds you more of a medical exam than actual sex. The tentacle inside is vibrating, twisting and turning, pressing on your cervix – it should feel painful, it can’t be this good but, somehow, you welcome the feeling of being this fucking full. You don’t buck your hips, but you cry and moan – and it’s enough of an indication of your pleasure. Monster laughs, his other hand goes to lay on your face – a surprisingly gentle gesture. Short-lived, but you could still feel the warmness lingering on your tattered skin. It’s hot and cold with him – you aren’t sure what comes next, but the tendrils are sliding in and out, probing at the entrance of your womb and, despite everything, you feel the knot in your stomach untying. The orgasm is a quiet one – build up is slow and small, and it doesn’t make you black out – but you whimper nonetheless, the tight embrace of his hands on your body feeling more like a cage than a normal hug. He is too powerful, probably not sure about his strength – you feel him squishing you like a fruit. The slime is leaking from your empty pussy, clenching around nothing. — Obedient. You’d be a good vessel for my eggs, human. You whine, turning away from him. He chuckles, pressing you in his arms again. Like a child with his favorite new toy – you feel squeezed and touched in various places, his tentacles having a mind on their own. Not an inch of flesh getting ungroped. — Ar…are you going to kill me? — Ach. You can talk after all. — Are you going to… — No. Have a much better way to use you. He chuckles in your hair, pressing his face in it. Inhales the scent – if he has nose, of course. This stupid hood conceals everything, not letting you know anything besides his rank. Which makes you think about…

— What is your name? 

A stupid question, really. You shouldn’t care about the name of a monster who bought you – still, you don’t want to refer to him as just “a monster”. This dumb part of your brain wants closure. — König. Remember it, little human. Oh. So his name is König. Somehow, it doesn’t make you feel any better. 

[iceunhie]

distraction

⟨ wc. 447 ⟩ jiaoqiu likes to think you aren't a good distraction, but you both know that's a lie.

a/n: wrote this at 1am low on sleep and not proofread. i apologize for the person that i am for this stupid fox

“do you enjoy tormenting me?”

currently behind the kitchen counter of your shared home, the smell of the delicious broth permeates the entire room, spices and herbs that blend harmoniously to create a tingling experience for one’s nose, the sun’s warm rays by the window bathing the room in the golden afternoon light.

although admittedly, you cared less about that stew, the view and the smell and more about how jiaoqiu looks very good in an apron, his hair in an uncharacteristic ponytail, the sight of which makes you smile until your cheeks hurt. he can be so unhealthy for you. can a foxian even be that pretty?

“mm, take a guess.” you drawl, and jiaoqiu's face turns as red as his hair when he feels the weight of your body pressed against his back, your chin stabbing his shoulder. “is it working?”

you're clinging to him like a trotter is to its mother, and jiaoqiu's heart is beating erratically fast right now, threatening to burst out of his chest and explode all over—not a pretty sight. the incessant wag of his tail does nothing to help him either.

“i'll mess up the stew, baobei.”

“you're the most renowned medicinal chef in the yaoqing. you'll live, qiu-er.”

“but it's for you.” because everything he does, he does to devote himself to you. to love you, to keep you by his side, because he will never, ever get tired of this—of you.

“yeah, and it doesn't have to be perfect.”

“it's your favorite—i have to make sure it's according to your preferences….” which means it has to be perfect. (he'd do a disservice to you otherwise.)

“but i love anything you cook, jiaoqiu. i’m literally the embodiment of the term ‘the way to one’s heart is through the stomach.’ even if it's garbage, which it's not, by the way, it's the thought that counts, you know?”

he laughs slightly at this. you always did have a way to keep his spirits high. “still, you’re… watching me.”

“and i don't see how me watching is a problem because….?”

because i can't focus with you here, jiaoqiu thinks, though he keeps it to himself. because you make him feel warm and unable to comprehend anything but you. (the urge to lean into you, to touch you, is maddeningly difficult to control.)

“...you're a distraction.” he settles for that instead.

“a good one, i hope.” a very good one, to be exact.

you turn your head and press a light peck to his cheek, and warmth fills jiaoqiu from head to toe. though he raises an eyebrow and rolls his eyes, he leans in to feel your lips for a little longer.

the stew tastes a little more delicious this afternoon.

as you can see i wrote this with my heart not my head so i apologize for how clunky this is lol

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[thequeenofsastiel]

Decided to watch "Who is Luigi Mangione" on MAX, despite my reluctance given the fact that I believe in "innocent until proven guilty", and it was one of the most irresponsible pieces of propaganda I've ever seen. The whole thing was clearly an attempt to carry water for the prosecution. They had people go on and on about what a "good man" Brian Thompson was and all the good he could do in life. They very briefly touched on the fact that he was being investigated for insider trading and that UHC had the highest denial rate among "health" insurance companies, before going back to talking about how wonderful he and his family were. They didn't mention once that when he became CEO his actions shot up the number of denial claims, to the point that the company went from making $12 billion dollars in profit to $16 billion in four years. A small amount of time was spent on people discussing the harms of the "health" insurance industry, but it amounted to maybe two minutes of the 42 minute episode. They acted like killing Brian Thompson was completely irrational and that he was a mere scapegoat, instead of what he actually was, which was one of the biggest examples of corporate greed in the "health" insurance system in the United States.

When it comes to Luigi, they not only portrayed him as unequivocally guilty(though they had a couple of people throw in the word "alleged" with heavy sarcasm), but they also did their best to portray him as mentally unstable, calling him a narcissist. The show also didn't bother to question the evidence, such as the backpack that was supposedly left in Central Park full of monopoly money, but also happened to be with Luigi when he was arrested?? Or the different jacket?

They also didn't mention how fucked up it is that so much media and governmental attention was paid to this one murder simply because the guy was rich and powerful. People are shot dead in the streets all the time in this country. But because it was a rich, white CEO, everyone has fallen all over themselves to bring attention to it.

It was disgusting, and clearly only got created in a ploy to influence potential jurors. It's hard, because free speech is a thing in this country, but it feels like that sort of propaganda designed to convict a possibly innocent man shouldn't be allowed.

*Sigh*

Then again, there have been plenty of jokes about it on YouTube and TikTok, and lots of social media posts pointing out everything I'm saying. Still, none of those things have gotten the backing of a huge media company. Which shouldn't be astonishing, rich people like to look out for other rich people during a peasant revolt.

It's just all garbage.

[qqueenofhades]

How do we not give into dooming because I mean, the media circus is not letting up on this. It feels like it's going to be the new 'emails' and the prospect of fascist america seems more and more inevitable by the day. Is every election going to be like this?

Look, I don't want to get drawn back into the Politics Discourse because I really only can take a tiny bit of it at a time right now, but once again: IT IS NOT INEVITABLE THAT WE ARE DOOMED.

Fascist ideas are not popular. Polls are bullshit garbage and were off by an average of 6 points in 2022 (remember the endless, ENDLESS weeks of RED WAVE COMING media coverage and then.... literally squat? The media cannot will something into existence just by talking about it over and over, no matter how much they try). Please do not allow polls alone to shape your understanding of the election, especially when Democrats have wildly overperformed and Trump has wildly underperformed in every competitive election since 2016.

We just had it all but inevitable that France was going to turn fascist/elect the National Rally fascist party to a majority in parliament, and instead the leftists banded together and kept them the fuck out (because fulminating about Revolution!!! online never works, but voting sure as fuck does). That did not happen. It is not inevitable here either. I am shit fucking terrified too and today was a real bad mental health day, BUT IT IS NOT INEVITABLE. Do not give up ahead of time. Do not think the media and/or polls can create the reality they want just by being extremely loud and repetitive about it. Do something. Give money. Sign up to volunteer. Check out my resources post for helping the Democrats. And repeat after me:

IT IS NOT INEVITABLE THAT WE ARE DOOMED. Even if Trump did win the election, god fucking forbid, America would not be fascist instantly overnight. People would and will fight back. He would have a really hard time actually cancelling or openly rigging elections and/or using dictatorial powers, no matter how much he would want to try. Take a deep breath. Log off social media. Repeat after me:

IT IS NOT INEVITABLE THAT WE ARE DOOMED. And there is never, ever, a moment where we can never do anything at all or where everything will just Happen to us without us having the opportunity to resist (and win). We just have to make the choice to do so.

That's all I got for now. Hang in there.

[cloudyskydreams]

Someone.making S/O cry UT,UF,US,HT

Hi! This one was fun to write. I think my favorites were the HorrorTale brothers they have fun personalities.Requests are open! As always I hope you guys enjoy!

Undertale:

Sans:

He's not happy to say the least. He stands by you and frowns at the dude his usual smile no where on his face as he sizes the guy up. Trys to diffuse the situation and tells the dude to basically fuck off but he's ready for a fight if it comes to that. He'll have a comforting hand on your back rubbing small circles and shapes into it. He trys to distract you with his puns and jokes and takes you somewhere comfort to chill for a bit.

Papyrus:

Oh boy. Papyrus is immediately lecturing the dude about how that isn't nice and you shouldn't make people cry. You will be getting an apology he won't be satisfied until you do. After an apology is delivered Papyrus himself apologizes to you for the situation and whisks you away with the goal of cheering you up. He takes you somewhere he knows you like and hopes to create a good memory to replace to old one.

Underfell:

Red:

First reaction is anger he's ready to go if someone made you cry. He goes in yelling getting in the person's face, he doesn't get physical right away more standing in front of you and the person protectively to create distance. You might have to reel him in because he won't back down he will die fighting for your honour. He's in a grumpy mood the rest of the day but he's still pretty sweet to you just bitey towards other people.

Edge:

Death glare shuts the person up real quick and has them going pale in fear. He separates the two of you roasting the person while he does and simply leads you away reassuring you that that trash has no idea what garbage he was spewing.He gets you a little treat and treats you extra sweet the rest of the day careful of your feelings. He's a bit more protective of you and glares at anyone who interacts with the two of you the rest of the day, which he normally does cause he has a resting bitch face but this time it's on purpose.

Underswap:

Stretch:

Hates confrontation but he won't stand for this. He comforts you wrapping an arm around your shoulder while making a snide remark about the person more complaining to you loud enough for them to hear. He then leads you away needing to remove himself from the situation as well as you before his emotions get the better of him. Takes you home and trys to take your mind off of everything by goofing around and doing stupid things like shoving whipped cream in his nose and having it come out his eyesockets. It's uncomfortable but if it makes you laugh it's worth it.

Blue:

He steps in and separates the two of you quick. Stands in front of you and very politely tells the person off and to mind their own business before doing damage control and getting you out of there. He talks to you gently and reassures you while trying to take your mind off the situation with some spontaneous activities. He's determined to turn the day into a positive one in the end.

HorrorTale:

Axe:

He doesn't really remember what was happening before this but all he knows now is his mate is crying and he's absolutely glowering at the person who did it while standing behind you. He sets a hand on your shoulder gently to comfort you while scaring the ever living shit out of the poor sap who made you cry. For the rest of the day Axe brings you little items like rocks or pretty leaves and items that bring him comfort hoping they'll help you feel better.

Willow:

He is immediately at your side with comforting and reassuring words. He picks you up and removes you from the situation, his biggest concern is pacifying you at the moment. He says the other person needs to be taught manners and if he wasn't so concerned with you they would have a very lengthy lecture to listen to right now. They would too, he's just an older version of Papyrus with way more anxiety he would have bitten into them with a nice lengthy lecture and then proceed to think about it for the next few months at 3 am when he can't sleep.

[wonton4rang]

——————————————————————————

pairing: bnd x reader.

warnings: none, mentions of arguments, kissing in some parts, mentions of the members real names.

summary: how would bnd react to “we have to talk”

——————————————————————————

sungho; unless he knows he did something to make you feel sad or mad, he would be chill, leaving his coat in the hanger and walking to you with a little bit of confusion since you said this as soon as he went in the house after coming back from work. “sure, what is it about?” he would ask in the sweetest and softest voice, his eyes showing the way he worried about you. and you just couldn’t do that to him, so you finally came clean and explained it was only a joke to see his reaction, sungho would laugh and kiss your forehead, assuring you that the whole “we need to talk” situation didn’t scare him since couples need to communicate in order to last :’) best boyfie award winner right here.

riwoo; “we need to talk” chills ran through his body before he unglued his eyes from the tv screen and directed them to you, his orbs got glossy really quick and his voice trembled when he asked “is everything okay, baby?” it was late, at least 1 or 2 in the morning and there was riwoo binge watching the series you told him not to loose sleep for. yeah, in sanghyeok’s mind you guys were done. but you just laughed at his scared frame, making him gulp before looking confused as you just kept laughing, explaining how it was only a joke and that you didn’t mind him watching his serie anytime, he was going to be the one tired after all. he would be soooo relieved, because he couldn’t even think of loosing you.

jaehyun; he didn’t even registered it the first time, his mind taking its time to process everything and create a thousand scenarios where he did something and you left him for it. so when you snapped your fingers in front of his face, he just held you in his arms, kissing your lips right away, so soft and yet so passionate and rough, only him could kiss you like that. he would back you up to the wall when you didn’t push him away and kiss you a little longer before letting your lips go for a second, panting against them before looking for your eyes and saying “i don’t recall doing anything wrong but if i did, i’m sorry, baby. can you tell me what it was? i promise i’ll fix it” but when you said it was just a joke, he just got a little mad, because why would you put his heart through such a harsh time.

taesan; “we need to talk” he was sitting on his bed when you said this, noticing how woonhak left the room right after you talked and taesan directed his eyes to you, still cleaning that vinyl disc “about what, noona?” you closed the door behind you and then crossed your arms in front of your chest, dongmin confusingly looking at you before putting his disc back in place and finally standing up “is there something bothering you, love?” his hands held your arms to uncross them and pull you in for a small peck in your lips, “what did you wanna talk about? did they do anything to upset you?” , “w-what? no, the members are just fine” , “are you sure?” and you could tell that even though he was showing you that nonchalant attitude he was really worried, he would NEVER think wrongly about his members, which is why you couldn’t hold it and laughed, explaining it was just a joke before he rolled his eyes at you and put you on laundry duty with sungho as a “punishment” for making him worry.

leehan; “what do you think i did now?” and that alone would make you feel soooo offended, your eyes and mouth opening at the same time and before you could even say anything to defend yourself he kept going “I haven’t even been out lately, you have my phone most of the day because for some reason you don’t want to subscribe to youtube premium on yours, i made you breakfast, i took the garbage out, i did the dishes and took a bath after cleaning the living room and folding the clean clothes. I don’t know what I missed or what you think I did but I-“ you had to stop him before he kept ranting “it’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong, it was just a joke” he arched his eyebrow at you as you added “but I didn’t know you did all that” leehan laughed this time and pull you over to sit on his lap in the couch “i did, between yesterday and today” and you couldn’t hold it just laughed while he kissed you, he was also a really good boyfie even when he liked to argue back.

woonhak; oh god please don’t do this to him omfg, he is nervous, screaming, trembling, tongue tied, shaking and paralyzed at the same time, he doesn’t know what he did, he doesn’t really think he did anything but you are his noona, his first girlfriend, you know better. so he could just sit there and look at you with his big eyes, sobbing every once in a while, waiting for you to talk and stop walking around in front of him. so when your eyes met he crumbled, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i don’t know what i did yet but i will fix it, it won’t happen again. i love you so much, y/n. please forgive me” and the way his voice sounded broke your heart, immediately leaving the joke behind when you held his face and softly kissed his lips, assuring him that he didn’t do anything wrong and apologizing for the joke that took the wrong turn.

[dreamerimpossible]

Fragile (Art The Clown x Fem!Reader x Pennywise)

Nobody asked for this either, but…what can I tell you? I am a nasty person.

Summary: You are the little pet of both sinister clowns.

Warnings: Sex with plot, oral (reader receives), dubcon, double penetration, pain, dark content, +18, humiliation.

Your nose still couldn't get used to the smell of putrefaction that surrounded the sewer. In fact, you could never stand it. It was a weakness. At least that's how your two captors had made you feel all this time: you're fragile, and breaking was just easy. That's how it was. Of course it was. You hadn't even been able to suppress the nausea caused by the dirty water whose waste you avoided seeing at all costs. Those ropes that tied your wrists still caused you a deep pain whose impact was beginning to be progressively more emotional than physical.

Your body immediately reacted to the strong and determined footsteps of one of your captors. Your head lowered, in a sign of involuntary submission, and your fists clenched violently so that the pain you caused yourself would be much more noticeable to him than your state of nervousness and vulnerability. But you knew it was useless.

It was useless, yes. Especially because the being in front of your figure could see through you. All of you. Your hands immediately loosened, sadly representing your absolute surrender to him. He approached you with a chilling smile that released blood from his lips, forming an immeasurable drip that fell to the floor, creating a completely unbelievable scene by human standards.

He smelled you, like a rabid dog would do to an unknown creature that was a potential victim. But his reaction was one of disappointment. Which made him move away at a safe distance from you. There was no fear. There was a worrying lack of fear in your veins. And he didn't like that at all. He didn't like losing control. Suddenly, the gloves on his hands were torn as they were torn by the claws that the clown was making sprout from his fingers. You suppressed a scream... was this the end for you?

Probably. The level of dirty water in the sewer was rising rapidly, turning red just as quickly. While all this was happening, there was Pennywise, with that characteristic smile, mocking you and the way he could make your fear grow with such simplicity. You closed your eyes tightly while repeating the same mantra over and over in your head:

“It’s not real…” you burst into tears uncontrollably. “This is not happening.”

You opened your eyes slowly when you felt the water calming down under your feet. And once they were fully open, you saw that everything was back to normal. The world-devouring clown had decided to stop torturing you like that for today. However, it wasn’t because of you. It was because someone had come to interrupt.

The clown dressed in black and white walked hunched over, with the garbage bag resting on his back, and his face only reflected annoyance. Pennywise had smiled again. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

Every time Art was psychologically tortured by Pennywise, his strength in hurting you was even more brutal. He was getting even. That's what you were for, to get his frustration out. Otherwise, your existence would be meaningless to him.

Today would be one of those days; you could feel it in your body. You could see it through his eyes. Your body suddenly felt weak just thinking about it. And Pennywise decided to make it much harder for you by making you witness his transformation, the representation of that feeling that Art The Clown couldn't experience for himself, but that, against all odds, he did feel. On tiny levels. But he felt it somehow. There was only one person in the world that made Art angry and eager to destroy you. That girl, that woman who was very different from you.

Pennywise's figure blurred and theatrically turned into the silhouette of what seemed to be Sienna Shaw armed with her sword.

Art didn't feel afraid, no. But he felt a little insecurity and hesitation. The sweet, intrusive thought of what could happen if he was once again decapitated by that woman. And that. That little fleeting thought made Pennywise feel extremely satisfied. It was what he lived for, to make Art the Clown feel like he was insufficient before him. To remind him that although he is almost indestructible, in essence, he was still weaker than him, than the devourer of worlds himself. Extremely different levels of strength. And then there was you. A small force next to them, insignificant and fleeting.

And his attention was now on you. Pennywise, on his side, eager to push you to the limits, and Art the Clown, on his side, only wanted to vent his anger on you.

Art's fingers squeezed your jaw tightly, fixing your eyes on his. You could see that there was nothing. Nothing that reflected any hint of emotion. Maybe that was his way of telling himself that Pennywise hadn't affected him in the slightest. Then, you saw his smile, and you were terrified of whatever he was about to do.  With a knife he tore your bloody clothes, scratching the skin of your torso. You took note of how many moderately deep scratches you had there. Your hurt tits were visible to both beings, who proudly looked at the bite marks, blows, and cuts they had left there, pleasing their sexual need.

Next, Art cuts your panties off with ease, letting them fall into the dirty water of the sewer, leaving you only in that skirt. That skirt that you wore to go to work almost obligatorily before you were imprisoned by a being from which it was impossible to escape.

Your skin was marked. You would never be the same again. You were lost.

Pennywise sank his teeth into your neck, sucking a little of your blood, like a little appetizer of what it would be like to truly devour you. Your eyes closed weakly, simply accepting your fate. But Art would make it harder. He inserted two of his fingers into your entrance, entering and exiting you at a raw speed. And it hurt in an indescribable way. Your moans were of absolute pain, making both men smile.

But what was coming now would be new and completely devastating for you. Art roughly grabbed your waist and held you in place, slowing down the pumping of his fingers and hitting just a specifically pleasurable spot for you, making you let out your first moan of involuntary pleasure. You felt bad. You weren't supposed to enjoy it. You opened your eyes in horror, and all Art did was mock you silently with exaggerated gestures of silent laughter. He had discovered a new kind of pain for you.

Pennywise followed the direction the other clown was taking and placed his red lips on one of your nipples, no bites. Your moans increased as you felt his tongue exploring with different movements, looking for the perfect way to make you enjoy this against your will. Your hands relaxed in your ropes, and your groans increased as you felt his tongue exploring with different movements, looking for the perfect way to make you enjoy this against your will. throw your head back and let out shameless moans as you felt the circular movement of Pennywise's tongue on your nipple, along with the marked rhythm of Art on your pussy.

They would kill you, sooner or later. They would finish you off. And yet... it felt so good. Art knelt before you, smiling at the irony of the situation, even believing that you could have any kind of control over him, and he pulled his fingers out of your entrance with ease and replaced them with his own tongue. Your leg was over his shoulder, his mouth sucking on your pussy without any shame, demonstrating once again his unhealthy fondness for all kinds of bodily fluids, licking and swallowing everything you had to give him, without making a single gesture of disgust.

It was completely alarming how much it turned you on. You are a nasty person. You had to be. Your screams echoed against the walls, given over to a pleasure that was undoubtedly beyond your control.

Pennywise's claws dug into your back as he began to alternate licks on your nipples with small bites that increased in intensity. Pleasure and pain lodged in the pit of your stomach, making you a slave to him, increasing your disorientation, and destroying your own moral code. You noticed how your own blood slid through your body and how you seemed to shamelessly enjoy it.

Art's tongue worked on you in an almost expert way, which made you ignore any kind of pain that they wanted to inflict on you. Your release was close. You wanted it; it was painfully torturous not to get it. You simply wished he would let you cum at least once. Looking into his eyes, you thought that maybe he was deciding too, whether to overstimulate you or leave you wanting again and again. Both are quite attractive options. However, to your invasive visual delight, you saw how Art drank all your fluids in a shameless way, licking your folds to try to clean everything that was left.

But make no mistake, he wasn't doing it for you. He needed you to enjoy it so he could destroy you, shamelessly break you. He needed you to be his doll too, the one who enjoyed the pain and the contempt.

Pennywise separated from your tits, squeezing your stimulated nipples with his fingers. The pain and pleasure were once again present, and the scream you let out was an auditory sample of the mixture of those two sensations that they wanted to make you feel.

Art stood up and continued in front of you; Pennywise positioned himself behind you. You felt four hands violently grabbing you by the waist. You couldn't even muster the strength to shake your head when you realized what they were going to do. But before you could make your displeasure known with sounds, each one penetrated your corresponding entrance. You bit your lip with a certain habit to endure that kind of pain at this point and prepared yourself for what you were going to feel. Be it good or bad.

They both penetrated at the same time, with a force much greater than two considerate boys would have, but much less than what they were used to. You felt both cocks inside you, fucking you with a desire you didn't think they even had. Your body was being abused and taken selfishly, and you could even feel the pain that would remain in your belly for days after experiencing that practice for the first time in such an inconsiderate way. Pennywise growled in your ear from behind, while the skins were heard colliding with each other, as if you were just that. A toy, one more hole. As Art watched your reactions, as you fought the fear and discomfort you felt at your own enjoyment. They both spilled their semen inside you in due time and separated, watching as your eyes closed at the amount of sensations you experienced.

They both watched as their semen fell down your thighs, mixing with all the blood from your wounds. You fell into a deep sleep instantly, as proof of your physical and emotional exhaustion.

No, not even Sienna Shaw could save you from this one.

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 1: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(part 2, here.)

(part 3, here.)

Agatha learned spanish for Rio, obviously—and spices up her dialogue with Spanish phrases out of habit. I assume she also knows other languages, being alive for as long as she has.

But I'd also like to think that language-learning gradually becomes something they all surprise each other with. And this is definitely super self-indulgent, because I'm always ecstatic when my native English-speaker friends are interested in learning my language.

For example, I definitely think Billy would ask Alice to teach him korean—and she'd be really excited for that. Not to mention, I feel like Billy just has the vibe of someone who'd be interested in learning different languages. (and korean in particular I think he'd definitely find interesting.)

I also definitely think Jen would try learning Sicilian for Lilia, considering the effort she makes to understand her and keep her comfortable towards the end. Lilia would be so moved, because she probably hasn't spoken to anyone in her mother-tongue in centuries. Like, it's literally considered an endanged language. (“Currently considered a “vulnerable” language by UNESCO, Sicilian faces increasing pressure from standard Italian, though it remains stronger than nearly all other Italian language varieties.”)

Mrs. Davis loves making food for all of them, always trying to diversify her cooking to suit their appetites, their cultures, the things each of them can eat, etc. It's a lot, but she doesn't mind!! She's a grandma!! She loves feeding people—and she missed having someone to cook for.

She grows her greens all by herself, too. Rio occasionally helps her with weeding and stuff. Mrs. Davis is freaked out by her rancid vibes at first, but ends up saying she's a “very sweet girl,” to which everyone responds by staring at her horrified.

Mrs. Davis would also definitely make a chore chart for everyone, but it never works out for a NUMBER of reasons.

First or all, Agatha always skips her turn with cleaning, saying that “she forgot.” She knows that either Billy or Sharon will just take care of it anyways. (Jen refuses to do any of Agatha's chores. “She can either do it by herself or drown in her own garbage-”)

Lilia always gets distracted and leaves her chores unfinished. She can only ever remember laundry, for some reason—she does everyone's laundry. But other than that, jeez. My girl is messy and that's okay. She has her very own unique way of finding where she puts her stuff, but others would merely call it chaos. Jen always picks up after her—and Lilia always huffs and puffs about how, “well now I can't find anything!”

Alice is the sort of person who accidentally creates messes everywhere, then stuffs everything wherever she finds. In drawers, under beds, you name it. Very, “out of sight, out of mind.” Like, she probably has “a chair” where she throws all her clothes.

Billy is very responsible, always abiding to the chore chart and oftentimes doing Agatha's chores too.

Jen is a total neat freak. She wants everything to be organised and under control—and she needs everything to smell nice.

She always makes the others scented candles. Agatha claims they're “useless garbage,” but uses them anyways.

Jen is also the one who usually keeps track of the bills and expenses, since she earns the most through her, “real job.”

Lilia is the sort of person to get lost in the mall, or even just the super-market. Alice has needed to look for her more than once.

Agatha loves crushing Jen's videos by appearing in the background and doing whatever bullshit she feels like.

Alice and Billy are everyone's mediators. Whenever someone gets in an argument, they're the ones who force them to work it out.

Alice is very protective of Sharon and Lilia, because she has mommy issues. Agatha has the opposite sort of mommy issues—but Sharon and Lilia treat them both like they're their kids.

The first time Billy brought Eddie to meet his coven, they literally put him through trials to decide whether he's worthy to date their son. Eddie is surprised he's been coven-approved.

“These women are insane, Billy—but then again, so am I for sticking around anyways.”

Eddie is very tired. His favourite coven members are Jen and Alice, who he considers the most normal. I REALLY think he'd fuck with Jen, because they're both so done with everyone else.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Checking In

Good day my fellow exhausted creatives, it sure does be A Time we're going through. There is certainly a lot of things happening at once, and like many of you I'm struggling to stay afloat while desperately playing catch-up. I'll be honest, shit's pretty damn fucked up. Sometimes it helps to take a step back and reflect on some reminders.

Don't panic.

People are facing a lot of hard choices when it comes to what platforms to use, and I know it's pretty tempting to burn everything down. Take a deep breath and think about your options. Nightshade and Glaze aren't perfect, true, but they're open about their limitations and are still tools you can use. Look into alternative word processors beyond Google Docs that won't have AI-scraping. Take your time deciding what to do with your creative output and where to share it. I am Old, and I have seen several social media websites crash and burn. You will always have more options.

Take care of yourself first.

I've seen a lot of people burning themselves out hard over things they can't control. Gaza, anti-LGBTQ issues, American politics, it's a whole lot and it's all overwhelming. You cannot accomplish anything if you don't take the time to put your oxygen mask first. Eat, sleep, turn your phone off when you feel yourself being sucked in. This seems obvious, but it's often the hardest thing to do, believe me I know. You gotta keep yourself going before you can help others.

Small things still matter.

There's a lot of things you can still do even when you feel like you can't. You can sign petitions, you can promote the activism of others. Vote in local elections. Keep yourself informed without drowning - check your news sources once a day rather than all the time. Talk to your friends, spend time with your pets, find ways to help in your local community (a great place to find resources is your library!). Go for a walk with a trash picking tool and a garbage bag. A small difference is still a difference.

Recharge Creatively.

It can be hard to do creative things when you feel like there's so many other important things to do. But being creative - creating art, writing a story, doing a hobby - IS important to yourself and others. Sometimes you have to force yourself to do so - I have to put "watch a movie" on my to do list, or I'll never make time for it. Go to a coffee shop and make art. Play that new video game. Write that silly coffee shop AU. These things are important to you, and they will carry through with what you want to do for others.

Do what you can when you can and you will make it through.

[mydadleft471]

my brain will not stop thinking about how messmer reacts when he meets his newborn. does he stand at the door like a statue until his consort notices him? are the snakes gently headbutting the baby? so many possibilities lol

I think the snakes are the first to greet the baby.

You’re lying there, sweat lining your body and chest heaving, but you’re smiling so beautifully and Messmer’s eye is locked onto the baby cradled in your arms. He blinks and reminds himself that this is real. He’s pulled out of spiraling thoughts by his snakes aggressively headbutting him, urging him forwards. He obliges with small, careful steps.

He reaches your bedside and stares at the tiny body in your arms. His snakes flick their tongues at the baby, causing it to stir. You smile and gently pat their heads.

“Messmer?” Your voice reaches through the fog in his mind, grounding him. His hand weakly grasps yours and he stares at the little life you’d both created.

You offer the baby to him and he takes it, carefully scooping them up slowly. The snakes perch underneath Messmer’s arms, ready to catch the baby if it were to fall.

But it won’t. Messmer wouldn’t let anything happen to his child. And it’s then he swears he will be everything he yearned for growing up.

He’s going to be the best dad.

ANON LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME.

I’m so sorry I haven’t been writing much lately. Life is so chaotic and I’m about to return to classes. I’m going to try and keep writing, but I might close my requests because I don’t wanna keep people waiting. I feel terrible, but I would rather take care of myself and produce quality writing at a much slower pace than force out garbage that nobody’s happy with.

Thank you so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy this little drabble!

[records-of-dirt]

Create Your Own Soil Profile!

A garden’s soil is the base of all its growth, and knowing how to properly  interact with your soil can make all the difference!

Step 1 Site Observations

Take a few photos of your site (project area)

Note down:

what vegetation is there?

is it near water?

the slope

approximate exposure to sun

Step 2 Take a soil profile

Set out a tarp or a garbage bag

Dig a hole about 3 feet deep (you may want a friend’s help!)

Place that soil in piles onto the tarp, sorted into different soil layers

Remember horizons! (O, A, E, B, C, R(bedrock))

Make a sketch of a soil profile, and measure the depth of each horizon

The top of the profile should start with 0 cm

Refill the hole, and try to return each type of soil in order!

Step 3 Build your profile

Describe each layer of soil, moisture/structure/color/smell

Use the “feel” method to take notes

Step 4 Drainage

Dig a hole 1 foot deep and 1 foot wide(ish)

Fill the hole with water and measure how long it takes to fully drain

An ideal time is around 10 to 30 minutes!

Note down the time

Keep in mind that even if the soil type would suit desert-like plants more, think of the weather. If it rains a good deal the drainage can matter less(or more!)

Step 5 Biological Activity

Bury a pair of cotton underwear(I know it’s silly)

Wait about 60 days

Unearth the undies, the more tattered they are the more activity there is!

Step 6 pH Testing

OSU Lab for Oregon, and many states have soil testing labs

Soil pH Meter

DIY Test

Step 7 Hardiness Zone

This just takes looking at a map!

Hardiness zones can tell you about the weather’s highs & lows in a particular area

USDA Plant Hardiness Map

And that 's it! It's a lot, and you don’t have to do everything. Each step can provide a better view of how to properly support your garden, and can be fun activities to do with friends and family!

I’ve included a template for a complete soil profile, but feel free to make them as fancy as y’all want!

Sincerely,

records of dirt

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

You are so unbelievably correct about Animated Megashock. They are completely incapable of being normal about each other and it's the best thing ever.

Me every time one of my cool mutuals tells me I have good opinions

Real talk tho, TFA megashock lives in my head rent free. Megatron as a character is so fucking fascinating to me just because it's so hard to read his actual motives, but the clear, constant throughline you can always pick up is a DEEP distrust of everything and everyone around him. Even in the first episode, before Starscream tries to outright kill him, he tells him straight up that he doesn't want him going after the Allspark. He makes a grab for it alone because he just straight up doesn't trust anyone else with that much power. And then Starscream's bomb happens, Megs wakes up as a severed head with half his bits rearranged wrong, and he's on full alert all the fucking time after. He doesn't trust Sumdac, he doesn't trust anyone on Earth, he doesn't even trust his own Decepticons. He thinks LUGNUT of all bots might be out to get him, if only for a moment.

And the thing that's got me pacing around my fuckin room and scratching up the walls, other than pretty much every interaction megs has with shockwave through the whole series, is this one little detail in the Allspark almanac.

God. It's got me fucked UP.

Does Shockwave realize he's the only thing keeping Megatron from a mental breakdown? Does Megatron??? How close are they on a personal level, exactly? Because you don't just get mr. "I'm surrounded by enemies" to admit that on no uncertain terms in front of Primus and everyone unless he MEANS it, and he's PROUD of it.

That is the one bot he can depend on for certain. Shockwave is his stability, his rock, as reliable as the cannon on his arm (god the juiciness of their weapons being so similar too. Fuck. Just marry each other already). He is the trusty weapon he knows he can conquer with. And that's the closest thing to love Megatron would ever let himself feel.

I like to think Shockwave knows hes a weapon in the eyes of his leader and he wouldn't have it any other way. And a lot of that probably comes from how warframes were treated by the autobots before the whole Decepticon movement kicked up. They were assembled with the intent to be killers. Created to be powerful and terrible, treated as living weapons from the moment they came into existence, and hated for it.

To shockwave, Megatron treating him as a weapon is likely what he's come to expect. It's what EVERY warframe expects. But Megatron doesn't treat him as something dreadful for it. He doesn't look at him with disgust or fear or contempt when he carries out the exact destruction he's told to. He looks at him with pride. With a pleased smile. He's met with praise and tenderness. And after such a long time of being made to fight and destroy, only to be treated like garbage, it's probably pure euphoria to be told he's doing a good job at what he was created for.

He will never be good in the eyes of the autobots that made him to be destructive. He'll never be anything other than terrifying. But to Megatron, he's good enough. With Megatron, there's a right answer. With Megatron, he's okay with being a weapon because it finally feels right, if only because there's finally someone there to tell him he's done a good job.

They're both so fucked up by the system and their own trauma that they don't really know how to love each other in a way that's normal or healthy but that will not stop them from trying to love anyway.