#the stuffing is cotton balls

[jungleboy-cruise]

This is Violet the very first stuffie I've ever made. I know they're uneven and lumpy but they're the first one I ever made I'm still so proud and I love them.

[bluesidedown]

noooooo.....

[echoes-lighthouse]

I’m writing my Hazbin Hotel s/i as a reader insert story with different chapters for different characters and I think I’m going to make it a readers request things on AO3 kind of deal, like you choose who hires the ‘reader’ next as a domme and then you get to read about it

I’m 11,000 words in and I started with Angel Dust because it made the most sense for my character’s starting point, and I’m having a ton of fun honestly (and also kind of traumatized myself but it’s ok that’s part of fanfiction writing)

I’m going to post the first chapter tomorrow: should I link it here as well or just post it on ao3 and see what happens?

[schwazombie]

I just spent €50 on yarn (and two crochet hooks) BUT IN MY DEFENSE most of the yarn was on sale, and the yarn that wasn't on sale (€20) comes in a ball big enough for me to make a set of matching fingerless gloves and an infinity scarf

[figleythesimp]

MC should introduce Lou to stuffed animals. Specifically weighted ones that feel like there hugging you. I feel like if MC gave him one he’d be confused but since MC gave it to him he’d give it a shot. Eventually he’s clinging onto that thing, bonus points if its a bird of some type. If it is a bird stuffed animal Phinny would fucking tease him about it while Nix just stands there silently but smugly. But Nic wont let anyone know that.

I do not know why this suddenly pooped i to my head. But I need to know more about how’d he react to a weighted plush.

Maybe this is just me pushing my own bis of weighted stuffed animals onto Lou. But who cares. I need to see him hugging a stuffed animal now. My brain is both angry and happy with itself at the thought.

[moongothic]

Quick round-up of a few small projects; Scarf. It is a scarf. Used the remaining silk/wool yarn I had left from when our yarn store closed, the yarn was really thin so I ended up holding it double and yeah, got a really cute, comfy Halloween-y scarf. Very happy to have it. I do regret making the stripes as thick as I did, like they look cute but between that and me making the scarf a smidge too wide, I ended up having to cut the scarf shorter than I would've liked because I didn't have enough yarn to make it any longer- at least not with evenly sized stripes. Like had they been thinner I could've repeated the pattern a little longer, but oh well, it is what it is. With the scrap yarn I just made this ugly little neck warmer, and yeah, it'll keep my neck warm indoors.

And then, using the scrap yarns from the bleeding heart sweater, made a very Crimbus-y beanie. Sidenote but I did actually pre-wash the fucking red yarn before knitting this, because I did not want a repeat of the dye bleeding incident. But yeah, it's a beanie. Again, held the yarn double this time and I'm glad I did because oh, it made the beanie so soft. It is so comfy y'all, I can not wait for December so I can wear it. I still have more of that red yarn left though. No clue what I'm doing with it.

[whyrubuyingclothesatthesoupstore]

Meet grinkl, my first semi-successful crochet project since I was in middle school. Idc how it looks, I made him and he brings me joy, everything else is an afterthought

[kristhekrispy]

Get SNIFFED, fucker!!

[duskythesomething]

i'm fucking sick again at the same time as bleeding what kinda fuckery hell is this

[straydogged]

uh oh

[plushie-lovey]

Jackson is a duck with an identity crisis.

It all began on a sunny Easter day, when a mother duck laid a clutch of eggs. A curious young bunny happened to stumble across one that had rolled away from the nest. Thinking it was an easter egg, she picked it up and took it home. But she and the rest of her family were in for a shock, when later a duckling stumbled out to greet them. Seeing his new family, the soon to be named Jackson proclaimed himself to be a rabbit. The family, realizing the new responsibility they'd come to have, didn't have the heart to correct the newborn. And so the identity stuck.

It's been quite a while since that faithful day, and Jackson still swears he's a bunny; the same as all his brothers and sisters. He has no clue that he's adopted, nor does he listen when plushies insist he's a duck. "If I'm a duck, then why do I have long white ears?" (the ears were a gift from his grandfather Oreo when he was too small to remember things well). Some plush his own age make fun of him for it. Others go along with his fantasy. But at the end of the day, Jackson doesn't care how he's treated. He's loved and cared for by his family and that's what matters. The relative he is closest to is his older sister Cotton Ball, who is fiercely protective of him (because she's the one who found him)

[tchotchkez]

ahhhhhhhhh! new meds got me with that fuckin Zombie Brain Drowsy

[dmitriene]

simon riley has a home, not a particularly big house in quiet neighborhood, a place where he doesn't wears his gear and doesn't has a knife pocketed at his thigh, where he doesn't hides under another identity, remaining just simon, a sated man with a sweet wife and a chubby baby at his hip, a civilian life he's so desperately tried to seek and that you gifted him.

home with a bright, spacious kitchen where you stood each morning together, with simon's hefty form cloaking you from behind, thick hands trailing under the satin of your nightie, bunching the fabric on your front, where you're pressed against the wood of the kitchen counter, your cat walking on top, before meowing lightly and jumping off onto the floor, knowing that it's best for her to leave you two to be, furling into another room through half opened door.

baby sleeping in the crib, peacefully, a soft lulling melody wafting through the chilly air of the room that keeps your girl sleeping tight, door closed slightly to muffle any possible sounds from disturbing her sleep, your mellowy sounds that slip past your parted lips when simon teases his thick fingers against your sopping folds, cupping your warm pussy beneath the cotton of your panties, swiping across your slit and gathering the oozing slick there.

a family, the one simon would protect with everything he has, to keep you, his sweet wife, always by his side, with your pretty finger adorned by the sparkly, wedding ring that matches his, cooling against your swollen clit where he can't stop teasing you, spreading your folds to the morning air, dripping wet and taking every inch of his girthy cock gracefully, spasming around the girth he feeds you, squeezed tight in your thin, gummy walls.

muffling your hiccuping cries, simon's hips bouncing against your ass, squeezed in his rough palm through the fabric of your nightie, fat supple and spilling from his fingers, as his heavy balls press and slap against your folds, drippy with your slick and his tacky precome, matting the tangle of fuzzed curls of hair on his pelvic and meaty thighs, muscles tensing with webbing heat in his soft belly, rolls of skin rubbing against the small of your back, as he folds himself over you.

he kisses the molassed whimpers from your lips with his searing mouth, pummels into your pussy when your gooey walls flutter and clench, rippling, stuffed full of the thick girth that grinds against your small, sens spot and makes you claw painfully at the wood of the counter, simon's hand gathering your wrist, tying them together by his fingers, the same that currently flick across the small bundle of your nerves, swollen, full of pumping blood, when you cry out loud in the soft furl of his lips.

your darling girl still asleep, cat curled against her small form, tail draped over her slowly breathing body and prolonging her sleep, unable to hear the heavy breaths coming out from the kitchen and the breathy giggles simon completes to devour off from your lips, with his clashing teeth's and greedy tongue, despite your panties being sodden and his cum trailing down the underside of your doughy thighs in viscous, glistening globs.

a home, with a smell of fresh breakfast curling and dissolving into the air of the room, as you stand behind the stove, watching the two sizzling pans as simon busies himself in helping your baby brush her teeth, cradling her against his chest, as she babbles groggily, already all over his ears, as he chuckles hoarsely, bundling her against the bend of his elbow, walking back to the kitchen with a cat meowing at his feet, hungry too.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[suguann]

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    

And then Mio kicks the ball into— 

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

[bunnis-monsters]

Always with you

Male!Slime x Fem!Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober Event

Oct 4th

Oct 3rd

Oct 5th

warnings: he’s inside you in public, portable and pocket sized bf, trying to hold back moans while he’s wriggling inside

summary: Every day when you go to work, your lover ends up so lonely! So he decides to come with you, even when you say to stay home…

🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼

Your lover was being pretty pouty today. The two of you were different species, him a slime, and you a human, and sometimes that brought along… certain problems.

“Baby, I said you can’t come you work with me…”

He shined at you… a grown man, huffing and pouting. “But you’re gone all day! I barely get to see you…”

The wet, gooey feeling of him burying his face into your neck made you sigh softly. “It’s just one more day… then you’ll have me all weekend.”

He held onto your hips, trying to bite and nip at you so your neck was covered in hickeys… but he was much too soft. It was aggravating, being such a wobbly and gooey thing!

But in remembering the shortcomings of his species, he got an idea…

You left for work early the next morning, your boyfriend curled up next to you with the blanket over his head. Honestly, you did feel bad leaving him alone every day, but you had to make sure the bills were paid and food was in the fridge.

“I’m off, sweetheart… love you…”

It was a little hurtful when he didn’t respond… but you told yourself he was just asleep.

You didn’t see a little ball of goop following after you, giggling quietly and hitching a ride on your pants leg.

As soon as you sat down in an important business meeting, you felt a very familiar slimy sensation move up your leg. You couldn’t really do much about it, this meeting had high stakes!

But you couldn’t help but let out a whimper when you felt the slime sink into your cotton panties, surrounding your pussy.

It wasn’t long until you were being stuffed full of it, your legs held apart by sticky slime on either side of your chair.

To keep yourself quiet, you bit your lip, trying your best not to moan as your lover moved in and out of you, pressing against that special spot that had you coming around him almost instantly.

He absorbed your cum, swelling inside of you and spurting out cum of his own into your womb.

When the wriggling started, you had to hold onto the armrests of your chair to ho back a moan.

This was going to be a long meeting…

A few hours later, you held onto your pocket sized boyfriend, pouting at him. “Was all of that necessary? You could have just ridden along in my purse…”

“B-but I wanted to show everyone you’re mine!” he said, his voice high pitched and squeaky due to being separated from his main body.

And when the next person went to sit in that chair, they were surprised to find a wet, sticky mess there…

He certainly showed them.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[konigsblog]

tw: dub-con, non-con, somnophilia, kidnapping

mffmfmmfmf.... kidnapper-farmer-könig is rotting my brain away slowly. 🌾🌾

he makes you sleep naked on the floor by his bed, only a thin pair of cotton panties giving you some decency and dignity. and whenever könig gets up in the middle of the night to grab water, he can't help but stare at you; all bare and fast asleep with a chain tightly wrapped around your neck, keeping you from moving. he just loves to grope you, stare at you. you shouldn't be surprised when you wake up to his hand stuffed into your panties, pumping your wet cunt with one digit whilst rubbing against your sensitive clit.

and you're all sleepy, so weak against him as he continues to tease you. since you're so deprived of human interaction, you either take whatever you're given gratefully or squirm away crying. but today, all you're doing is shaking quietly, soft mewls and whimpers leaving your lips as you press them together.

or kidnapper-farmer-könig will either throat fuck you, crouched down with his balls pressed against your nose, waking you up to his brutal actions... :(((