#wtf did i just write

[kinerxy]

me making a complex bestiary for my website for no reason at all

[ma3mae]

Pov: your dragon hubby gets some "help" to make ur wish come true (drabble)

(Nsfw below cut, mdni)

"Impregnate her? How can you think you'd be up for that?"

A voice full of taunt spoke as your muffled whines and moans continued to fill the room, his tail tightening around your mouth and upper body at the other's words, the rough scales scrapping against your sensitive nipples while he kept you full with one dick in each of your holes.

He merely gave him a scornful look as he tried to focus on your body, his want to fulfill your wish never ceasing his thrusts into your tight holes.

"Too embarassed to even admit my purpose in being here to your beloved wife? If you'd rather want it to change to" mother of your children" then you'd only need to speak up."

His thrusts slowed down as the bed dipped infront of you, a bandaged hand tightly grasping your jaw, blurry eyes barely making out the silhouette of a familiar looking man and red eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light of the room inside the inn.

"The man you love is quite the fool for you if he's willing to call someone like me for help. Let's say my intrique couldn't keep me away so here I am."

Fingers digging into your hips from behind while the man freed his half hard member out of his pants.

"How does it feel to be soon indebted to me for the rest of your life?"

"Just shut up and get on with it. After that you'll be gone."

It was already enough that a reminder of him would be left for a lifetime. He didn't need the presence of the man himself as a form of tornment of his past.

Only a chuckle could be heard infront of you before you bucked into bandaged fingers on your clit.

"Loosen up if you want to be knocked up so badly like a whore."

Mind far too gone from the seemingly endless hours of being fucked, you could only nod at his words, not comprehending fully what was gonna happen.

Yet your body seemed to catch up quite well onto his words as you whined at the sensation of him slowly inserting a finger into your slicked pussy.

"What a slut. It hasn't been even an hour and she's so easily stuffed by you. Let's see how long it would take it to break her."

A hiss slipped out his mouth as he felt you tightening around his girth, the combination of mere bandaged fingers rubbing against him and your already tight core, making him gather his whole strength in not to finish just yet.

Moans began to erupt out of your mouth yet again as he began to use his tail to move you up and down like a cocksleeve while the man had begun to gather your cum with his dick on your pussy, continiously rubbing your while three fingers had already made it's way inside of you, the squelching sounds only growing louder with each passing second.

"Brace yourself, foolish woman or else you'll be gone in mere seconds." were his only words before you felt the delicious stretch of your pussy, making way for him to finally fulfill the purpose of his visit.

"Fuck, atleast your hole seems to be of divine quality. Just like a true vixen. Perhaps I might stay for a couple of days longer, hm?"

You felt his chest rumble against your back at the man's words yet their conversation never really made it's way to your mind as the man kept slowly pushing your insides out until he was finally fully in.

"'s-s too full." were your only slurred words before broken moans got caught in your throat, their weirdly synchronized movements nearly making you topple over if your lover's tail and the man' s grip on your waist wouldn't have been there to stabilize you.

"You can take us, my love. Just enjoy yourself. I'll make you a mama just like I promised."

You felt the other man's thrust suddenly pick up his pace.

"Then I'll be happy to engrave myself into her so you will never forget who had granted you your child."

He wrapped his bandaged hand around his tail, pulling it out of your mouth before pulling you into a rough kiss, your moans only fuelling both men's desire to fill you up to the brink.

You felt your core snap yet none of them ceased their movements, the tightening of your pretty pussy merely feeding into their needs.

Not even multiple creampies, lots of positions and the prolonged smell of sex could stop them.

Only the sight of large amounts of cum leaking out of every hole, would only make them continue on for days, the only break granted to you for sleeping and eating and yet it wouldn't be long until someone was inside of you again.

"Such a greedy little pussy only deserves to be knocked up. Wouldn't you agree?"

Eyes glistening like a forest darkened at his words, lust and want clouding his mind as he licked his lips at the sight of your marked, slicked with sweat and cum body.

"Yes. It truly does. Right, my love?"

[loop-doom]

Is just me or does movie cherik have TOO MANY cinematic elements that are deemed romantic. It just can’t be missed anymore.

The big emotional confessions, the emotional and physical dependence on one another, the constant worry for the others well being, the light teasing, the chasing after them asking them to stay (W T F), asking them to fucking live with you, etc

Like these are moments that you often see in your generic romantic movie couple

But then they excuse it why a “you were my brother” knowing DAMN WELL the previous elements don’t show the classic between men that’s understood by the public

So either cherik is a cinematic anomaly or the romantic undertones are not just a secret between me and James Mcavoy

[rreskk]

Voicemail

TW: Smut

Summary:  Trevor makes sure you won’t ignore him again.

You met Trevor when participating as a getaway driver for the Paleto heist. Trevor wanted a reliable helper and Michael recommended you from the heist you did with him, before the lunatic came along.

He tried to charm you with his sexual compliments and intoxicating smile, but you made it clear you weren’t sleeping around. Especially with maniacs. Trevor faced rejections on every occasion he raised the question, ‘are you free?’, and you had the joy of watching him grow frustrated and disappointed.

As you were concentrating on evacuating the 3 men from the bank they interrogated and robbed from, you once again found yourself witnessing Trevor beg for you to listen and talk to him. You were previously giving him the silent treatment, smirking whenever he’d aim his rage at you for silencing his face to face booty calls. His attempts were cute; you’d wonder how promising he claims to be in the bedroom.

Having to hold each of their contacts for safety purposes, you all called it a night and went your own ways after the heist.

Lying on your bed and reading your book, your phone had spasms beside you. Trevor’s contact picture popped up and you read messages after messages stating his horniness and his everlasting love for you. Astonished at his commitment, you watched your phone buzz with him spamming you over messages.

The moment it died down, it began ringing.

“How desperate does he have to be?” You’d mutter before leaving the bedroom to have dinner. Your phone was left behind, physically muting it’s notifications of him from your senses.

Retreating to where you left your device ringing, your eyes scanned his contact and there was a voicemail, 30 seconds long. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him attractive. The man was hard to deny. His honey gazed eyes and upturning smile that would twist whenever he caught eyes with you. His eruptive movements and hipster clothes made him stand out than the rest. You had a damn hard time ignoring him… But you were secretly glad he has your contact.

Your thumb slowly pressed ‘play voicemail’ and you were met with silence.

Edging your ear closer, you could hear him pant and whimper from the speaker.

“This is what fuckin’ h-happens,” Trevor moans, “When you fuckin’ ignore me, huh?”

He was masturbating. Your mouth fell open, hearing him grunt and animalistically mutter your name. The slapping sensation could be heard as he mounts his hand and abuses his erected cock.

“Fuck, fuck-“

He was loud and obnoxious with his whimpers. You tilted your head, finding yourself dangerously attracted to this man as he’d growl from the other end of the phone.

“Fuckin’ call me back, babe,” He paused to express a painful moan, “I-I know you fuckin’… Mmm… I know you want it.”

As you took notice of his increase of tone, you heard him release a load in ecstasy.

“Fuucckkk! I love you!” Trevor whined.

You heard his hand stop rubbing against his skin. There was a sound of his cum hitting a surface, presumably the phone. Trevor panted and growled, his phone rustling as he moved in a rapid pace.

Suddenly, his whispers could be heard loud and clear. “Call me back, sugar. I want to hear from you again.”

The voicemail declined.

You’ve never been so fast to save a voicemail and call someone back.

[elviraaxen]

I’ve been hyper focused on cowboy hats for what feels like weeks and from what I can gather….. there’s a reason people simplify cowboy hats like the applejack hat or woody hat

neither of these are true cowboy hats, as you can see;

the anatomy of the TRUE cowboy hat is that the rim is bent down in the front and back and folded up at the sides. Neither Applejack nor Woody has a truly curved hat, which I think is important for the readability for a true cowboy silhouette.

Now, there are different models of cowboy-adjacent hats that are simpler, there’s the australian outback hat and the cohan cowboy hat for example;

HOWEVER!! I think we can all agree that while these hats are good in a pinch, this does not read as a true cowboy. A cowboy could be wearing a t-shirt and jeans but add a cowboy hat, boom that’s a cowboy. These hats would need to be accompanied by spurred boots, chaps, vest, the whole shebang, to communicate that it is in fact a cowboy and not a city-slicker with a fashion sense.

So where am I getting at, what’s my problem?? The Cowboy hat is descriptively and extremely difficult to draw, that’s the problem, and while I can see why it is often substituted for other hat models that roughly read as the same thing, or why it is simplified to a symbol like in applejack’s case, this is … not good enough for my taurus ass.

Moreover, besides just having difficult anatomy, The Hat is significantly easier to mess up than most hats. It has a delicate silhouette, that if drawn only slightly off model, turns into a completely different hat or looks doofy as hell. It is also HUGE and when drawn in comics (like in my case) is often simply in the way, but make it too small and again, it’s no longer a cowboy hat.

And, finally, it is also one of those hats that is worn really low on the head with the base being just above the eyebrows (to shield the eyes and face from the elements), and so when a character looks down just a twinge, boom, away goes the eyes and half the face. Not good for comics if you want them looking down but you want to see their eyes.

Hard to draw, hard to turn, hard to pose, hard to make sense in the composition of a drawing.

MY issue, however, is that I WANNA BE ABLE TO DRAW THE COWBOY HAT EFFORTLESSLY DESPITE ALL OF THIS ANYWAY!!! To me it’s really important that I at the very least can draw a decent cowboy hat in all angles. Just as like.. a principle. I’d feel bad giving up considering I have a very important cowboy on my hands and I’m also a fukken professional character designer and it’s EMBARRASSING not being able to draw a HAT!!!

Sure, I know some 3D artists whom I could commission for a sculpt to put in clip, BUT WHAT IF IT’S THE APOCALYPSE AND I WANNA DRAW SEXY COWBOYS?? I need to do this y’all. For me.

The saga continues, and I will be back a stronger artist. Wish me luck, comrades.

[wangxianpromptsgenerator]

Prompt 92: Man's best Friend

When WWX time traveled right after the Sun Shot Campaign, he just planned to stage his death and live as a Rogue Cultivator.

He didn't expect the Waterborne Abyss to follow him like a pet. A massive one the size of a horse that barked at "suspicious" people (and by suspicious he meant, all people "it" didn't know, so basically everyone). That was so clingy it remained draped over him like a wet blanket at all hours, even when he was trying to relieve himself.

Then the Lans sent someone to exorcise him since he was freaking out the locals.

--

Additional note: And that someone turned out to be LQR that was supervising a nighthunt, along with a contingent of this year's batch of visiting disciples.

JWY was not prepared to meet the Ghost of his late brother, completely wrapped in a thick layer of resentment (and WWX was not prepared to meet him either).

WWX* debating whether he should tell him that YES he's actually alive, the body YMJ cremated that was wearing his clothes and carrying his sword wasn't his, that he's now a demonic cultivator with a pet Abyss and SURPRISE SURPRISE, LONG TIME NO SEE CHENGCHENG. Or if he just should pass as a Ghost since he's layered in Resentful Energy anyway.

LQR definitely fainted. And LWJ tried to convince this "Ghost" to follow them to Gusu so that they would help him move on, since he was polite and definitely could be reasoned with.

[do-not-burn]

Humans in Space: A Dangerous New Drug (1?)

Humans enjoy and even find comfort in consuming both natural and artificial drugs. Some humans don’t partake in it and will even go so far as looking down on those who “use”. A number of humans who use do so for cultural reasons. Others, for recreation. Still, others use these substances for competitive improvement. Aliens, like humans, have substances that are used spiritually, but are also abused. Their drugs cannot quite match one drug exclusive to Terra - Terrans are used to it and still do anything for it. Imagine what others might do for an exotic toxin.

--

I had been placed in a difficult situation I would not escape without a casualty - likely my own. The events leading up to this moment happened so fast I could not bring myself to recount them in detail lest I was seized with more panic than what I had been trying to keep under control. My crewmate, Human-Anthony, had been physically restrained by our other crewmates, Wrole-Ou!pren and Crast-322, while I had been forced at a blade’s end to sit and observe silently. Human-Anthony thrashed and spat Human obscenities, kicking his legs and turning his head beyond its comfortable limit to try to bite the two engineers that circled him.

“I will fucking kill you, you bloody rat-faced doll fucker.” I would have been amused had this been said in a calmer scenario.

“Good. Good. You’re almost ready,” said Crast-322, hollowly. It was a perfect example of a Crast - save for its corruptibility. For my part, I did find it odd that a largely inorganic but sentient species came to be functioning members of the Herean Galactic Union and was not shocked to learn that, if there had to be one aboard, Crast-322 was a traitor.

“Bite and swallow your tongue, you clawless single-jointed fool.” Wrole were known to be compatible with Humans and I was more than surprised at Wrole-Ou!pren’s immediate hostility. The entire scene was designed by her, I soon gathered. 

“Keep fighting, pet. See what good it does,” she added. Human-Anthony paused his struggling for a moment - likely as suspicious of the encouragement as I was unsure of its genuinity.

“Gladly.” His binds suddenly released him with a snap and pop. I had learned his “pocket-knife” was a prized possession of his sometime ago and that, as such, it never left his person. It struck me that Humans cannot contort how he must have to have released himself. [After the ordeal, I was told Humans can dislocate joints at will with little effort though it causes them a great deal of pain. I saw no expression of discomfort on his face during the time I assumed he was cutting away at what they used to tie him.]

Crast-322: “Perfect.”

Human-Anthony: “You looking for a fight too? Cuz I’ll be more than happy to knock you straight back to dial-up.”

No response. He didn’t wait for one before delivering an attack named for a Terran natural disaster across Wrole-Ou!pren’s face. Unexpectedly, she offered no counter-attack which visibly frustrated Human-Anthony. She only grinned - her kind emotes similarly to Humans and so there was no misunderstanding on Human-Anthony’s part that she was only amused by his aggression.

“Do you not believe in a fair fight?” He huffed. I did not care for that query. Neither Crast-322 nor Wrole-Ou!pren believed in a fair fight. They had ambushed and bound him in his sleep.

“Obviously.” Her bottom set of arms wrapped around his mid-section. His right arm was held to his by her top right arm and his left was held out to Crast-322. Crast-322 held a manual injector - due to its primitive nature, it could function as an extractor as well, which I assumed was Crast-322′s intention as the device was empty. It approached the two, the smaller gritted his teeth.

“I believe in a fair fight. This was never going to be one. She and I are superior to you - together and individually. You... You are nothing but a “cash crop” to be harvested. You would have no value if your blood was not so unique.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“It is too late.” In the distraction of Crast-322′s underwhelmingly brief monologue, Human-Anthony had not noticed his skin had been pierced by the extractor. He threw his head back to hit Wrole-Ou!pren’s jaw. It landed but she held fast, constricting around his body, her arms flexed and tensed. She exhibited desperation from how tight she squeezed, as if it would force his vein to empty faster. But what were they doing?

“Why are you doing this?” I finally asked, not bound to my seat but fearful to stand up, being from a prey-people.

“I have always hated how dull you are,” Crast-322 said. I was further shocked. Crasts were known to be cold and humourless - they were an android-people. 

“You are too obedient, too boring. Too resistant to temptation.”

“So?”

“So, you’re the perfect first customer,” Wrole-Ou!pren chimed in.

“Of what?”

“This new drug.” Crast-322 shook the syringe of Human blood at me - I did not like that. Human-Anthony hissed at them.

“You don’t know what that’s gonna do to ya. It’s not made for your bodies!” He swatted at Crast-322′s hand from the grip of Wrole-Ou!pren.

“Oh you don’t know that.” Crast-322 stood over me and widened its eyeless sockets - a sign of hostility I gathered from the wave of discomfort and fear I felt on seeing it. I bowed my head and stuck my arm out wordlessly.

“Good job, pet.” The tip of the injector slipped under one of my scales and pushed into my flesh. The blood disappeared from the tube and became empty once again. I could feel it disperse into my veins, hot blood hurt in my cold blood - the difference was almost immediate. It felt I was boiling on the inside and I wished to remove my scales and mane. They all watched my agony, Human-Anthony wearing an expression angrier than pity but just as apologetic. My hearts were beating out of sync and the hair of my mane stood. My wings flapped clumsily, hitting the chair I felt stuck to. 

“What’s happening to them?!” Human-Anthony demanded.

“How are you feeling, prey?” I felt horrible. I felt hot. I felt... no pain. My fear of Crast-322 was at the lowest it had ever been.

“I feel... I don’t know. I’m burning but it doesn’t hurt.”

“It’s pleasant, isn’t it?”

“What did you do to them?!”

“Anthony, your adrenaline is the only good thing about you. My kind will reach the next step in our evolution and you... you will finally be retired to obsoletion.”

[aspiring-artist-em]

I said Sorius has irregular period. I'm just thinking that could happen around Remus or Peter or James and the first time she must have been so embarrassed🫤

AHHHH I DONT WANNA THINK ABOUT IT

but if I did...

Sirius frowned, she had no idea why everyone was eyeing her weirdly. She was a thirteen year old girl, not a fucking serial killer. Sure, she got a new earring, was carrying the heavy cloak over her arm, and was holding her hair up with her wand, but she was just hot and for some odd reason, there was a pain in her stomach. It's not like she grew an extra head.

Actually, that was entirely possible.

Sirius looked to the nearest window, glanced at her reflection and breathed out a little sigh of relief when she realized that she, in fact, only had one head. So why was everyone fucking staring at her.

She heard James run up next to her, clasping a hand on her shoulder and yelling in her ear. She smiled as he kept ranting and raving about quidditch, a familiar fondness filling her chest. The two kept walking, not waiting for Peter or Remus, who were trailing behind them, stuck in their own conversation. This was how it usually was. Those two always trailed behind, calmly talking about class while James and Sirius put their heads together for some proper mischief making.

It was just like every other day.

Until Peter's voice rang loud in her ears, drowning out James's endless chattering, shocked and shrill, "Sirius, you're bleeding!"

Sirius stopped in her tracks.

What did he mean, she was bleeding?

Her voice was panicked when she spoke, "Pete, what the fuck do you mean? I'm not-"

He cut her off, desperate to prove that he was right. "Yes you are! There's blood on your thighs-"

Sirius whipped around, clasping her hand to his mouth. She saw his eyes go wide and his short, stout frame start trembling. She didn't know why her face was burning, why the deeply rooted shame she tried to bury started to creep up her neck and onto her ears.

Peter was trying to talk behind the hand over his mouth. Sirius was aware that everyone was staring. She was hyper-sensitive to the feeling of their eyes on her, to the sound of the way they whispered amongst themselves at the sight. She could imagine the conversations perfectly, the murmured, "look at Black, going crazy again", "so the rumors are true about their family."

For the first time ever, Sirius wanted to fucking disappear.

Remus was the first one to act, murmuring a spell before wrapping a hand around her waist and guiding her to the hospital wing. "Come on Sirius, let's get you to Madame Pomfrey, you must've just cut yourself."

Sirius nodded, letting herself be led by the other girl.

The four marauders never really talked about it later, at least to Sirius. Instead, it fell on Remus's shoulders to explain to each one of them, separately of course, what a period was and how to act around someone who was unaware they were bleeding though their clothing. Over the years, Sirius got better at recognizing the signs, the dull ache in her abdomen, the intense need for salt. She got better at walking in front of James- never Peter, she was too prideful to stoop that low- and asking if she was okay. They got better at murmuring spells to rid her thighs of the blood when she didn't notice, which was happened less and less often throughout the years. But it was nothing they ever talked about, if only to save Sirius from the shame.

[ramennoodlezzzao3]

I may have….done something…

So uh, ✨H Y P O T H E T I C A L L Y✨ if I went into a panic because I’m overworked and exhausted and may or may not have accidentally written a draft where I took the plot of “One of Us is Lying” erased all of the characters and ships, brought together my four comfort characters, somehow made them all apart of the same universe in which all of them are semi-normal human beings, added some hurt/comfort/fluff, and just went with it.

Yeah, how would you guys hypothetically feel if I were to hypothetically finish that draft and hypothetically post it on my extremely hypothetical tumblr page for the world to see 😃

[isonoe-kallichore-kirby]

BIRD MAN

HIDE UR GIRLFRIENDS, WIFES, BOYFRIENDS, HIDE UR SELF, NOBODYS SAFE

[dramatic-squirrel]

Daminette December Day 13- Drink

@maribat-calendar-events

Ten minutes in and Marinette wasn’t sure she was going to last. She looked around the dining room marking all the possible exits and while she tried to be subtle, she was positive more than one of the Wayne’s had noticed what she was doing. Although, how could you blame her, for the last ten minutes, no one had said anything, not even small talk to break the silence, she felt like she was being interrogated not meeting her boyfriend’s family.

“Master Bruce,” the sound of Alfred’s voice was like sweet salvation to Marinette. “I believe dinners are usually more enjoyable with conversation.” He gave a pointed stare.

Damian’s father glared back at Alfred, but relented in the end. “So Marinette, Damian’s told us that you’re aspiring to run your own fashion line.”

“Oh, uh… yes. It’s my dream to one day have my own brand. I have a few clients already, but I haven’t expanded to the public just yet.” From across the table she thought she heard Tim mutter something about already knowing that before the thud of something hitting something else resounded in the silence that had descended upon the table once again. Marinette tried to think of something to talk about but besides Damian, she rarely ever had long conversations with non-superheroes. 

As she was wondering if it would be too depressing to bring up the recent crisis happening in Cape Town, she reached for her drink. Her anxiety was making her thirsty, so she didn’t even hesitate to drink it all in one go. That was a mistake for two reasons. The first being, that it wasn’t her drink, as Barbra tried to tell her the split second before Marinette downed the beverage. The second mistake was that the drink was alcohol, fairly strong alcohol at that, as it burned her throat as she swallowed.

She tried to suppress her coughing so as to not draw attention to herself, but the more she tried the more obvious it was that she was choking on literally air. Her face began to turn red and Marinette wasn’t sure if it was because of the coughing, the alcohol, or the embarrassment. When she had finally stopped, all eyes had turned on the Marinette, while she wished that she could just teleport away with Kaalki. 

Dick broke the silence. “So… The food is really great. Thanks, Alfred.” Everyone murmured their agreements. A few minutes later, the alcohol started taking effect, as Marintte suddenly started to feel dizzy. It wasn’t her first time drinking alcohol although she only ever had a sip or two for the most part, so her tolerance was really low.  

“Did you know that ladybugs hibernate in colonies of upwards to a thousand ladybugs?” a tiny hiccup escaped, her face flushed. Everyone stared at her again, wondering how they came onto this topic. “And cats apparently can’t taste sweet things. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“Now I see why Damian fell in love, she’s an animal lover.” Jason nodded his head in understanding.

“Animals are nice,” Marinette nodded along with him. “But I hate butterflies and peacocks. They’re so annoying.” she scrunched up her nose at the memories they brought up.

“Uh, maybe we should let Marinette lie down for a bit before she embarrasses herself.” Dick suggested.

Damian stood up to guide her to the living room when she spoke up again. “A secret kept in a shell is a pearl and a spicy rock is ginger.” 

“Oh great, she’s speaking in riddles now. We just dealt with the Riddler! Can’t we just have one night before going back to the riddles thing?” Tim yelled. 

“Drake, you goddamn moron.” Damian cursed at him. “Has your sleep deprived brain rid you of any sense of secrecy?” Tim just stared at him too zoned out to make out what he was saying.

“Calm down, Damian.” Dick tried to placate. “Marinette, Tim was just talking about how Wayne Enterprises was attacked recently by the Riddler.” He gave a pretty convincing excuse.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t convincing enough for Marinette. “You’re all Batman! Or Batman and Robin and Nightwing and…” she tried to count how many vigilantes there were. “...and the rest of them!”

“Noooo. Nope, we’re just your average billionaire family.” Dick was terrible at lying. At the head of the table Bruce just sighed as he prepped for the headache that would come from dealing with the fall out of this dinner.

“I wonder if it’s a rich person thing. Cause a lot of rich people are villains, but my friend Adrien’s also a superhero.” Marinette quickly covered her mouth, dread appearing on her face at the admission, meanwhile, everyone else paused what they were doing. “Did I say superhero, pfft, I meant super dork. We’re not… he’s not, I mean he couldn’t be a superhero.”

“You’re a superhero?” Damian asked her. He didn’t wait for a response. “That explains why your martial arts skills, gymnastic abilities and high level of leadership skills.”

She swayed a bit from side to side. “Ok, look. I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.” “Tell you what?” Tim asked.

“Identities,” she whispered it like someone else was going to hear. “I’ll go first. I’m-”

“Still incredibly drunk.” Damian cut her off. “We can discuss this at a later time. Let me show you somewhere you may lay down.”

“But-”

“Tim,” Bruce interrupted. “Damian’s right. We’ll bring it up later. Marinette, I apologize for how the dinner has gone this evening. I hope you can rest well, and safely make it back home.”

She looked confused before smiling. “It was nice meeting you, Bats, Robins. Bug out” she saluted then walked out of the room on unsteady feet, Damian helping her.

As soon as she left, Jason couldn’t help himself. “Finally, something we can blame on Babs.”

“Fuck you Jason.” 

[s-t-a-c-y-y-y]

Why, hello, darling! It is me, Rarity!

I’m here to tell you about this wonderful thing called mold! Oh, how I love mold! It’s grows faster and prettier than even the most beautiful flowers, and it can grow on anything. Not only is mold beautiful, but it’s also very nutritious!

What? Did you just say that mold is… disgusting? It’s… dangerous! Hmph! You don’t know a thing about mold!

I know that the stigma surrounding mold is quite… negative, but let me reassure you that mold is not the horrible thing that all those other ponies make it to be.

You know, I used to be just like them. I used to cringe and shiver at the mere mention of mold… but, after a while, it grew on me. Well… not on me.

It grew IN me! *chuckles*

Trust me, darling! Mold isn’t a terrible thing! You just have to… appreciate it more. The best way to do that is to have some of it inside of you.

Say… maybe if you suck on my unicorn horn, darling, you can become moldy just like me?

[luckytidbit]

I love my little rewind children

[number1spongebobfan]

The Can-Do-Crew were working on an important project. They were fixing Farmer Pickle's stable. Lofty picked up heavy wood tiles with the tip of his hook. Dizzy carried wet cement in her backpack.

"Hi Lofty!" Dizzy greeted. "Are you excited?"

Don't say anything, Lofty thought. Be cool.

"The stable's going to look all nice and brand new. There's going to be new and fresh colors. And less splinters."

Dizzy sucked her thumb. There was a huge splinter that had somehow gotten into her opera glove.

"Are you okay Dizzy?" Lofty asked worriedly. Dizzy winced. She was trying to get through with the pain; but the splinter was burrowing deeper every second.

"I'm okie dokie!" Dizzy shouted. She started to cry.

Lofty never felt this nervous before, and he was always a worrier. He couldn't bear seeing cheerful and perky Dizzy this down.

"I'll help you," Lofty said. He knelt down. Lofty yanked the splinter off of Dizzy's thumb. Dizzy screeched; it was a sharp but very short pain, and the splinter was finally off.

Lofty wiped the tears from Dizzy's eyes. She smiled. The little cement mixer kissed the blue tow truck on the forehead.

"Gah! No, stop that!" he flustered. Then Dizzy ran off to play in the woods.

[melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx]

Writers, a question:

When you write stuff, do y’all black out? I think I do, I don’t remember the shit I wrote!

[honnie-bunni]

He's watching Rao, Jelli, and Lukas fight over my little pony

He also def started the fight.