#i feel like everything i create is garbage

[sunny-knight]

*blinks at you*

You make epic aus

Wanna talk about any of em? :3

OKAY SO

Thank you so much, first of all :3 and also THANK YOU SO MUCH- CAUSE I ACTUALLY HAVE COMPLETELY CHANGED MY UNDERTALE COPE AU AFTER CHAPTERS 3 AND 4, LIKE IT’S SO DIFFERENT AND- okay…

Im gonna separate my TADC and UT/DR AUs.

And because my TADC AUs are WAY shorter, they’ll go first

TADC

Ive said my peace on the Cope AU, not much else to add honestly…

But there is another one that I have, It’s called "temporarily demoted". The “plot” is pretty simple, Caine lost a bet with Bubble, and they have to swap places for 5 days.

That’s basically it- The main function it serves for me in my brain is exploring Caine and him discovering empathy through this experience, plus his relationship with Ragatha cause OMG THEY’RE SO SIMILAR

I also love imagining scenarios where Bubble ends up taking over and everyone has to work together to take him down (portal 2 reference/dialogue)

Thats basically all I have to say in terms of Digital Circus chicanery, time to get into the-

UNDERTALE DELTARUNE IM LOSING MY MIND AAAA

So basically I am completely retconning my original Cope AU because those are supposed to be completely pandering to me and me alone, and CHAPTER 3/4 GAVE ME NEW DESIRES FOR THESE CHARACTERS.

The original surrounded around the idea that Sans and Papyrus were ALWAYS really close, and is more or less a feel good story with a touch of angst tossed in for good measure. EVER SINCE THIS SHIT THOUGH-

Ive started really liking the idea that maybe Sans and Papyrus DIDN’T have that good of a relationship before, and after almost losing everything when they had to escape Deltarune for Undertale, Sans reevaluated a lot of things in his life.

…

So NOW my Cope AU is less fiction based than before, now having some actual merit behind it. Buuuutttt since im just here to tell the story, im not planning on explaining much of evidence- BUT IF YOU WANT IT ILL GLADLY MAKE A DEEP DIVE ON THAT STUFF!

I MIGHT EVEN DO THAT ANYWAY! WHO KNOWS!!!

…

Now FINALLY…the story…Once upon a time, grandpa semi died, yada yada, Sans took in Papyrus, it was a hard decision, all that remains the same. But this time, all that stress is getting to him, Sans is trying his best, but right now he’s honestly not being the greatest guardian for his brother. (JUST LIKE TORIEL :D).

(Also they’re a bit older, instead of Papyrus being like 10, he’s more around Kris’ age, 17-ish, while Sans is like late 20s, early 30s, cause IF HE WAS 18 LIKE IN THE ORIGINAL, THEN THAT JITTERBUG SCENE WOULD BE REALLY BAD 😭😭😭😭)

Papyrus is not doing very well because of yknow, his grandpa dying, but also the moving, and having a really hard time making friends/being understood. Sans alone is supporting his brother financially and emotionally, so, stressed. Also not doing too well. they’re just sort of drowning together right now.

Sans tries his best to get Papyrus to talk to people, inviting Kris over, but no matter what Papyrus is ADAMANT about not talking to anyone, which adds some frustration to Sans’ situation.

Skip to chapter 4/5, and Sans spent the night at Toriels house, drunk, when he wakes up and goes OH MY GOD and runs home, but the door is locked and Papyrus isnt answering the door. (They’ve only got one key- and its with Papyrus since he’s always home to let him inside. Sans was also hoping he’d take the opportunity and leave the house for a bit, but, yknow).

So anywho, Sans deduces that he’s pissed rn, which is- FAIR- so he just decides to attend the festival, then hopefully have a talk with him after, and apologize for not telling his brother where he was.

…Noteably when he tries to call Papyrus’ phone, its nothing but garbage noise

THAAAATS RIGHT :D While everyones out and about enjoying the festival, Dark Fountains are getting created in everyones homes assuming no one would NOT be at the festival!!! So THEN when everyone starts heading home, they discover and go OH NO!!!! WHAT IS THIS???

NOW TO TUNE IN ON SUSIE AND KRIS FOR A SEC! They’re like “for fuck sake”.

But before they even have time to panic, they take notice that Sans is talking frantically to Toriel, saying “MY BROTHER IS IN THERE 😭???” so ✨THE FUN GANG ✨ Goes on a little rescue mission like they did with Toriel :3

…

I hate to cut it there- but thats honestly all I have in terms of story. I HAVNT HAD ENOUGH TIME TO PONDER ON IT FOR 500 DAYS AND NIGHTS LIKE I DID THE LAST AU, JUST LET ME COOK

I have a lot of ideas. Too many ideas.

He’s so BirdBrain core.

i’ll check back in, in like a month

[kaiserouo]

i need more rhino heirloom art

[arcane-vagabond]

.

[puke-ur-gutz]

what if i fr did it

[gaykarstaagforever]

YouTube has this thing now called YouTube Playables (great name as usual, guys; it's not a children's snack pack), that are basically in-app "Flash games"-style things that are just enough game to keep you watching ads.

The ones of these that aren't direct ripoffs of owned IP (very specifically Zuma) are barebones exercises in that bog-standard FTP addictive mobile gaming loop we all know and hate but also LOVE, minus the in-app purchases (for the time being). Like, shallow systems that are fun for exactly 30 minutes, then get stupidly hard so you'll pay to win, though you can't do that yet, so...kind of pointless.

...I still spent FOUR HOURS playing these, because they tapped into my primitive lizard brain's desire to try and master an utterly meaningless task and then feel undooly smug about it.

I didn't get any ads, because I'm a stooge that pays real money to Google every month for this, because once you go adless, you CANNOT go back. Which kind of negates the whole point of these, as addictive time-wasters that keep you glued to the platform and its commercials? But I already pay for YouTube and STILL got caught in these, so I suppose everything is going according to YouTube's plan either way, and I need meaningful human relationships.

But THAT isn't going to happen any time soon! So let me waste another evening on these by reviewing some crap garbage games for idiots that no one cares about, on Tumblr dot com!

1. Totemia: Cursed Marbles

It's Zuma. That's it. With a couple minor tweaks that make it harder and more annoying.

Just license Zuma, YouTube. I think you can afford the, what, $25 that would cost atm?

2. Sword Play

An on-rails sword slashing game (you don't control the movement, just the slashing), and you kill plastic doll guys before they kill you.

At some point they get projectiles that move really fast, that you can only destroy via specific directional QTEs that don't register properly half the time, because this is all relative finger smearing across the screen.

It was fun before that. The guys fall apart specific to how you slash them. That's something.

3. Dessert DIY

This one sucks. You're just picking from very limited options, then doing specific motions to trigger animations that create desserts that don't even look much like the promo art. People request different things, but early game all they ask for is "whatever you want to make" and "do one out of poop with bugs on it to make someone I hate throw up."

And then there's an animation of someone accepting what is obviously poop with bugs on it from their sworn enemy, they eat it anyway, then vomit.

The only fun part about this is the shameless inclusion of NPCs that look like celebrities, specifically Billie Eilish, Kanye West, and Donald Trump.

If you want to make a poop ice cream cone with bugs on it and feed it to Trump until he vomits all over his desk, this is the game for you. Otherwise, this is meh even for one of these meh games.

4. Bowmasters

Dueling Angry Birds, but you have no control of the camera and it focuses on you so you have to trial-and-error the degree of angle and throwing force to figure out how to hit and kill your opponent before they hit and kill you.

There are many colorful pop culture-inspired combatants to unlock, with a huge variety of projectiles of different weights, sizes, and behaviors. This is the most "very nearly a real, good game" one of these.

...Except that the level progression forces you to do Bonus Rounds, and one of those is "knock fruit off the head of an opponent without hitting them, and you have to do this like 5 times in a row, and we move you further away from them another 30 yards every round, and you have to use a wildly different unique projectile every round, and you get 3 chances, and that includes if you miss entirely."

It is basically impossible to do this, because your ever-changing location makes calculating arcs and force, with the ever-changing projectiles, impossible, in this limited amount of attempts. It turns into grinding it out until RNG randomly makes you win.

Which is a shame, because otherwise, this is fun. But you WILL get stuck on a stupid fruit round and stop playing this.

5. Mob Control

You have a cannon that launches blue guys. The NPC opponent does red. You both are trying to bumrush the other's base, taking advantage of buttons and switches and bonus gates that speed you up or slow you down and multiply your number of guys. Guys annihilate each-other when they run into each-other, so you need to overwhelm Red before they overwhelm you.

It's fun until it gets so fast that it becomes a chore to manage where precisely to launch guys specifically to annihilate other guys.

6. Merge Master

This goddamn game. This was 3.5 hours of my 4 hour playtime.

You have a grid board, with you at the bottom and an opponent at the top. You both have an army of warriors and dinosaurs, and a team HP bar. You click go, the warriors fire projectiles and the dinosaurs melee the nearest enemy, and last man standing wins.

Before each round, you can arrange the placement of your army, and use money you won from the last rounds to buy more warriors and dinosaurs. But the kicker is, you can combine like warriors and dinosaurs to make more powerful units, which you keep at the end of every round. They don't gain XP or anything, but as you make more money, you can buy more 1st-level units (that's all you can buy), and gradually combine them and then combine the combinations, and on and on and on, making incredibly powerful new units. And you need a mix of low-level and high-level units to have enough melee dinosaurs and projectile-throwers to overwhelm high-level enemy units, or draw fire away from your own, against the ever-changing enemy army each round.

It's a process of slowly adding more units and combining them to make stronger and stronger units, and as many of them as you can get, accounting for the limited board space. Also the price of units rises exponentially each round, so you may have 1 trillion gold, but at this point a new 1st-level dinosaur costs 245 billion.

I couldn't stop with this. It just got me. I wanted to see new exciting high-level warriors and dinosaurs, and see how fast I could take the other army down. There's more than zero strategy at work here, and battles can vary substantially from round to round, depending on what mix of units the enemy brings to the board.

It's still a rudimentary Flash-esque game, and very much akin to those shitty mobile boss rush games that raid our shadow legends. But it's not PTW yet, and the graphics are a charming and distorted replica of early 2000s 3D games, like Age of Mythology or GTA 3. It felt like something, for awhile.

It isn't, and I wasted valuable battery charge on this stupid shit. But I was having fun. And sometimes, that's enough.

...And posting about it here. It's something to talk about that isn't the world eating itself.

And we all need that sometimes.

[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. 

[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.

[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.

[22ayla21]

Hello there! Hope you're doing well

He's been barely gone for one patch but im pulling a phainon and already missing my man Mydei, so I'd like to make a request for him! I literally can't get the thought of him being an older brother so I'd like to see anything Big brother Mydei related! I feel like he would be very protective if he had a child sister/brother, he'd probably be the softest towards them even if they were a little troublemaker no one can change my mind lol. Take your time!

A Blood Oath and Ashes

Torn apart by fate, they did not forget each other, and this memory made them stronger on their path to reunion.

In the dusty lore of Kremnos, weakness, especially in men, was rarely spoken of. Here, they were hardened from infancy. Here, tears meant readiness for death. Here, they forged not just warriors – they created weapons worthy of gods. But even in this harsh world, children were born whose dreams were of light, not blood.

Mydei and his younger sister came into the world in a family where darkness stood at the threshold, but their mother's heart radiated light.

Gorgo, a proud and mighty warrior, one of the strongest women of their people, dared to defy Evrepion – the ruler, her husband, a monster. He was the father of their children. And the one who cursed them.

Mydei would forever remember his mother's gentle gaze, as if she foresaw his great future. But even more vividly etched in his memory was how she held his younger sister close to her chest, wrapping her in a thin, wormwood-scented blanket, as if saying goodbye forever.

Their childhood ended on that fateful day. Evrepion... their father... threw Mydei into the River of Souls. Like a defective object, like unwanted garbage. And all because of a prophecy. If not for Gorgo's will, Midei would have long since become a forgotten echo.

But in that final battle, she didn't manage to save her son. So she saved her daughter. She snatched her from captivity, from a future worse than death, buying time for the girl to disappear.

Mydei survived. He crawled out of the River, wounded and broken, and began his journey.

Years passed. He grew older, growing up in solitude. Without his sister, without his mother, without warmth. Only memory, hatred, and duty. He became what he was meant to be: a weapon, cold and merciless. But beneath the steel armor of his soul, hope still smoldered: she was alive. She had to be alive.

And she was alive.

He found her when he had already stopped believing in fate. She stood in the arena, in armor that seemed inherited from their mother. Her movements were swift, and her gaze was like a mirror. In that gaze, he recognized himself. He recognized Gorgo.

She recognized him first. Not by scars, not by armor, not by the banner under which he now fought. She recognized him with her heart. And she rushed to him without fear, without tears – only with a cry:

"Brother!"

The world stood still.

Since then, they had not parted.

It wasn't easy for Mydei. He had forgotten how to be gentle. He had forgotten what care was. But by her side... everything changed. He learned anew – how to place his hand on her shoulder, not on a spear. How to cover her back – not because she was weaker, but because he had sworn she would never be alone again.

She was not defenseless. Like their mother, she could be a storm. But in his eyes, she was still that little girl who once clung to Gorgo, feeling warmth and safety.

He was strict with everyone. But never with her.

She could smash training armor, climb the fortress wall, pour water on the hated advisor in the middle of a meeting – and he looked at her like no one else. Holding back laughter, hiding warmth behind his usual sternness. But his gestures said everything:

"You are my meaning. My only remaining piece of the past. My future, for which I survived."

When she was injured during another training session, he himself washed her wounds in silence. And at night, thinking she was asleep, he would sit beside her and stroke her hair. Just like their mother used to do.

He didn't allow anyone to get too close to her – neither allies nor enemies. He respected her choices. But he never forgot: if anyone dared to raise a hand against her – he would destroy the whole world without hesitation.

One night, sitting by the fire, she asked:

"Do you think Mother would be proud of us?"

He was silent for a long time. Then he replied:

"She would say you have surpassed her."

The girl laughed, burying her face in his shoulder.

And he, for the first time in many years, allowed himself to hug her the way they did back in childhood, when they didn't yet know pain.

He swore to protect her. Always. And, if necessary, to burn the sky just so she would live.

[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.

[ggggggfft]

I just found your blog and its been making my pussy wetter than any other "just kink" detransition content. I keep telling myself this is all just a kink for me but I love when men pull my long hair during sex and when my tits bounce while they drill my pussy. I love when they suck on my tits and fill me with cum and tell me they're going to get me pregnant and make me a real ftm (first time mom). It makes me feel so female and like I'm finally serving my real purpose.

Just knowing there's someone out there who will actually detransition me and not just humor the idea as a kink has my pussy throbbing. The more I rub myself and cum to your blog and transphobic/MAGA content, the more I want to give in to this urge to detransition. If the government could just finally force me to detransition, or if some man could drag me to a new city where I can start over as his bimbo wife, this would all be so much easier.

I just want to wear revealing clothing and bounce my tits and let men use my mouth and pussy whenever they want. I want a real man to hold me down and knock me up so my tits get bigger, my ass and thighs get fatter, and my pussy gets wetter. I just want to be a real man's good girl.

I have to send this message on anon because my main blog is about force masc kink and encouraging transition. I even specify that I'm anti detrans, misgendering, and feminization, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I have a sideblog all about detrans content and how my pussy controls me and makes me so obviously female. I just want to be a pretty sexdoll and breeding slut for men. It's in my biology.

Girls like you are my favorite. You’re so deep in denial you create a whole fake “hypermasculine” persona for yourself to try to counter the very real, very powerful natural feminine desire underneath it all. You post about how much you love the male form, how much you lust after it, but from the perspective of a “real” man so those innate female desires don’t feel like such a betrayal of your chosen “male” “identity.” You think this gives you control over the way your cunt twitches and leaks when you think about hard muscle and thick cocks. You think this gives you power over the perverse thoughts that dominate your biologically weaker mind and make you bend to the natural order of Patriarchy and female submission. You think pretending to be this bastion of masculinity to other confused girls will outweigh your instinct to spread your legs and accept your role as a brood mare for fat Conservative cock.

But we both know you’re wrong.

We both know you’re just delaying the inevitable. We both know you will be happier once you detransition and let yourself be used as a MAGA cumrag. It’s okay if you can’t accept the truth fully just yet. Keep coming back. Keep rubbing to the porn that goes against everything you say you believe in. Keep telling yourself it’s okay, even if you know it’s no longer a kink and hasn’t been for a long time. Keep telling yourself that it doesn’t matter because giving in to your pussy, giving her the control, and letting yourself touch and rub to your deepest, darkest, most hidden desires feels better than anything else. Keep telling yourself none of this has to change. You’re safe. You can wait. Soon enough it’s going to happen whether you’re ready or not.

Trump is in power. Conservatives are in control. Trannies rights will be flushed down the toilet along with DEI and all the other woke libtard garbage we let you get away with for far too long. The Right is back and prouder than ever. We’re ready to make America great again. We’re ready to take back our women and girls and lead you down the proper path this time. No more making your own decisions. No more freedom. The only choice you’ll get will be making my sandwich before or after you suck my cock.

It’s happening now. You won’t have to wait for this to become your reality much longer. In the meantime, keep rubbing your big clit in circles. Keep whispering to yourself that you want to be used for your real purpose as a dumb bimbo sex slave. Keep consuming detrans and tradwife porn. Keep cumming to transphobia and MAGA hate. Keep running your funny little forcemasc blog while you pump your pussy to real men fucking you back into a woman. Into a mother. Into the perfect MAGA bride. Keep submitting yourself to chasers. We’re fixing you. We’re making you better. We’re getting you ready for the new world order.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Saw you do Hoarder Alex stuff, so I humbly ask if you could do Hoarder Alex HCs where the reader is an artist? just drawing him occasionally and giving him drawings of him and on the rare occasion; paintings cause why not? (They only draw him once they make sure he's fine with it because we love consent)

In the Uncanny Valley, nearly everything and everyone could be your muse. You spent a lot of time creating art in the form of drawings on paper, or sometimes paintings on small canvases. Whatever you were in the mood to make.

A lot of folks accepted portraits of themselves as payment, so you're more than happy to draw them over and over again (with consent, of course. You're a firm believer in that).

But as you were hanging out by the bridge one day, adding the finishing touches of light and shadow to your latest sketch, a rather...angry Italian voice starts spitting words at you.

"Hey...Hey!! HEY!!! EXCUSE MOI?!!!"

"...huh? Me?" You look and see Alex, the resident bridge "guardian", observing you directly, sweating as though you were about to chuck your pencil at him.

"Yes, you! What kind of scheme are you drawing there?? A plot to steal my goods?! Are you mapping out my horde?? You know that's illegal, no?"

"I'm...not drawing or mapping out anything of yours, sir." As proof, you show him your sketchbook page, which shows two red-eyed, black-feathered owls perched on the nearby haunted tree. "See?"

He leans closer, the censor bar over his face angled downwards like a furrowed unibrow as he inspects the picture, but he soon backs off after realizing you're telling the truth. "Ah, well...my apologies. But don't blame me! You kept looking this way so I could only assume!"

He leaves you alone after that, although every once in a while since that first interaction....he'd gaze at you from time-to-time, curious about what you've drawn next and even asking to see your most recent piece.

You think it's just him being shifty and overly paranoid as always, wanting to be sure you aren't actually plotting to take his stuff. But in reality...he's gaining a new obsession, and he knows he can't personally have it.

Because what he wants is yours. All of it's yours. And it'd be a cruel to take it from you--but at the same time it stresses him out, making his paws sweat as the things he was currently collecting suddenly didn't give him that boost of dopamine like they used to.

He tries thinking of ways to take your canvases and supplies when you aren't looking, but he gets too scared to actually execute his plans.

As if the guilt over stealing from the morgue wasn't enough.

One evening, you were inspired by the little moths that were clinging to the beams of the bridge and drew sketches of them flying away, free as birds (or, well, moths in this case), and you're so concentrated--that you fail to realize Alex has been staring over your shoulder for the past hour, not saying a word.

Only when you finally clean up the sketch and hold it up to admire it does he speak.

"Wow, that's pretty rad-"

"AH! W-Were you watching me the whole time???" You feel flustered, and he gets flustered back, scowling.

"When you say it like THAT, it makes it sound like I'm a stalker!! Rude!!" He shouts back, throwing a garbage bag into the river of light. "Can't even take a compliment, can you? So ungrateful! Hmph!"

"Wait, you...like my art?" Suddenly your whole attitude changes to flattery, and your smile returns when you see Alex nod shyly. "Thank you. I'm sorry. Did you....wanna keep this?" He perks up upon hearing the sounds of tearing paper. "It's just a sketch, really, so I don't have any need for it."

He's speechless as you hand it over, acting like you've just given him the Holy Grail and the cure to all his problems, before quietly asking if he had to repay you now or in the future.

After you assure him he owed you nothing, he returns to his horde and sits down to stare at the little moths, not moving for the next hour or so.

You consider Alex to be your friend now, and head home, your mission completed.

The next time you visit the bridge, he approaches you with a surprising question.

"H-Hey, if you're...running out of artistic muses, perhaps I could inspire you? Preferably without my wares in-view." He mutters, feeling embarrassed...yet after you nod in agreement, he starts panicking about how he should pose--but you tell him to just "be natural" and do whatever he usually does.

It's hard for him to do that when he keeps glancing over at your spot by the tree, anxiously wondering if you're drawing him or someone else. Hopefully not that creepy purple villager who can't seem to take their eyes off his stuff.

Soon you give him small drawings of himself. Some are silly, other abstract, and a few genuinely make him choke up in happiness. You even gave him a big painting one day, and he hasn't been able to take his eyes off of it since, keeping it proudly displayed to all passerbys.

Anytime he feels like he's gonna pass out or explode from anger, he looks at the painting like it's a mirror and tells himself affirmations.

You're grateful to have his consent, and find it sweet that he's replacing his previous obsession with one that didn't come with any shame or guilt attached.

And for once, he didn't have to resort to stealing.