#Concrete Network

[chorleyconcrete]

Concrete Bases | Reliable Solutions For Your Projects

Our Concrete Bases is a one-stop resource for all your concrete foundation needs. We provide high-quality concrete bases for various applications, including building foundations, retaining walls, patios, and more. Our services area is Wigan, Chorley, Preston, Warrington, Blackburn and Southport.

[vaguely-concerned]

I'm grabbing frank spicer by his lapels and staring directly into his sad bloodshot barely focused eyes to go 'frank from the bottom of my tom waits-loving heart your voice is still perfect you just have to you HAVE to you MUST it's IMPERATIVE that you give yourself permission to get weird and potentially unpalatable to conventional tastes with it. I understand you're allergic to vulnerability in all its forms but you could be making the strangest most beautiful music of your LIFE right now if you freed yourself from the shackles of how it will be perceived by others and in comparison to your former self. you died as closing time and you can't live to see yourself become swordfishtrombones because you just keep looping the same breakdown day over and over rather than facing the frightening jump into something unknown and new and real. I'm going to have to shake you violently for a while I'm afraid'. his grand tragedy is that hearing the live version of waltzing mathilda just once would fix him* but he lives in a universe where it doesn't exist. I'm in shambles my head is in my hands.

(I feel wild about the fact that his creative stuckness and part of why his and colt's relationship fell apart comes down to the same thing -- the fact that he cannot for the life of him be actually authentic and vulnerable. I'd have to make a longer post to fully explain myself here but rest assured I am Thinking about it big time all the time)

...do you think frank knows that a completely amnesiac colt still immediately and instinctively kind of vibes with his music. how can I let him know this. everyone in this game is stuck in a layer of hell of their making, created from their own personal flaws and foibles, of course that is the point. but 'stuck in an endless loop of intense creative self-loathing and crisis and, by implication, almost aware of it' strikes a special cord with me I must admit lmao. all that and he went into the loop with what seems like fresh confusing breakup energy?? or did that happen somewhere along the way and it's connected with his almost-remembering (or maybe wilful forgetting)??? no matter what this man is having such a bad time of it and I feel like he deserves some aspects of it at least slightly less than some of the people here he gets the 'not quite as bad as you probably could have been and sorry your borderline tender situationship is repeatedly trying to kill you it seems like of your exes he's not one of the ones where your response would be a game shrug of 'yeah no that's fair'' wonky star from me. I mean he did also commit all those cold blooded murders with and without bae I'm not saying free my man or anything here he's earned his place in hell fair and square. but that particular aspect of it seems slightly unwarranted

*well. for a given value of 'fixed'. artistically at least which I frankly think is what matters most to him lol

[tsukihigui]

deleted my twitter app (not account) bc i really can’t handle the intense no-nuance high-stakes takes right now. not that here is all that much better but it’s definitely less of a time sink

[mabelsguidetolife]

my dad doesn’t know he’s probably autistic because he’s what one would call a ‘functioning autistic’ and he’s a senior citizen so he has never questioned these aspects of himself

[k-hotchoisan]

backseat serenade

<mingi x fem!reader>

Getting stuck in the backseat of your friend’s car after a night out with your drunk friends wasn’t how you thought of ending the night, especially not on Mingi’s lap.

Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, forced proximity, technically exhibitionism but not because no one ends up noticing, fingering, light choking and wrist pining, riding, cream pies, orgasms, something is going on in the backseat…, furcoat mingi

word count: 3.3K (what the fucK)

a/n: y'all be eating fucking good fr. Also shout out to my loml @bro-atz for helping out with the plot a little <3 shout out to mingi brain rot!

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess  @woojirang @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn  @voicesinmyhead-rc @woojirang @wlv-asteria @jjoongstar @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @vic0921

networks: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

“Who else is here?” You ask. 

She shrugs. “My boyfriend and a couple of his friends. You know them.” Well, you’ve definitely met a couple of your friend’s boyfriend’s friends before. Your eyes scan the crowd and sure enough, you spot familiar faces. 

And then your eyes rest on a particular male—his hair dyed platinum and slicked back, already drawing attention because of his height alongside his fur coat that hung over his shoulders. You never thought someone could pull off a fur coat that well actually. A pair of glasses sits on his nose bridge, which seems to somehow accentuate how sharp his eyes are. He’s been on your radar since he appeared on a mutual friend’s Instagram. 

“He’s pretty cute isn’t he?”, your friend’s date pushes, lightly bumping his arm against yours. 

You cast him a glance. “Just surprised that there are people who still wear fur coats in this economy.”

“That’s-“

“Song Mingi”, you reply, not taking notice of your friend’s boyfriend’s surprised expression. 

“You know him?”

“Came across him”, you reply a little too quickly. You sure as hell were not about to spill the truth. 

He definitely looks and is intimidating for sure, especially when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice so low that it tickles your ears. You could hear him talk forever, you think. You could imagine how he moans in your ears.

You blink. The fuck?

And so, for the past hour or so, you’ve been stealing glances at the blond male, but unfortunately, there was only so much staring could do, and it was not helping you get the male’s attention. Sure, the both of you actually followed each other (you were surprised when he followed you back), and the way he liked your stories sometimes made your stomach grow butterflies, but you never actually interacted with him in real life. 

It wasn’t until the party was slowing down, when you came back from being distracted by another friend, was when you realise Mingi was gone. A ping of disappointment fills you up, but it’s not as horrendous as the feeling of regret—for not just going up to talk to him. You wonder when you’ll see him again.

You decide to find your friend and call it a night.

“Do you wanna hitch a ride with us?”, your friend asks, uselessly trying to balance herself, her partner holding onto her waist. 

“The driver didn’t drink, I promise”, your friend’s partner assures. 

You open the car door and your eyes widen when you spot Mingi. 

You whip your head to your friend to ask her sincewhen Mingi came with the friend group but you realise you wouldn’t be getting any concrete answers from a tipsy person. 

You glance back at the male donned in the maroon fur coat, who seems rather surprised when he sees that you were the one who opened the car door. 

But Mingi’s expression remains indifferent—god knows what he’s thinking about but you swore you saw a tint of something in his eyes when your friends told you to just sit on his lap because “the car had no space”. 

“Hi, y/n”, Mingi’s deep voice calling your name is kept in a bottle and stored at the back of your head. 

“Hey Mingi”, you greet back, cautiously approaching him. 

“Are you okay with this?” You ask, testing the waters by putting your weight on his left thigh. 

“It’s fine. I’m just worried that it’s gonna be uncomfortable for you since it’s gonna take a while to reach your place right?”

Right. You nod in defeat. 

Your body jolts slightly when you feel Mingi’s touch burn against your skin—especially your thighs. 

His friend on the passenger seat has the aux cord and he’s picked out a song to blast in the speakers. You feel goosebumps bloom across the nape of your neck when Mingi’s voice hits your ear from behind. 

“Sorry, you might need to move in a little more, Princess. We have three more squeezing with us at the back.”

You blink, processing the information before internally thanking the universe that the car is dark so the red flushing against your cheeks gets hidden. 

Soon you find yourself fully on Mingi’s lap, and although you try not to lean too much against him, you realise the position feels awkward, and when Mingi personally shifts you with his hands instead, you decide to stay put. 

The energy in the car is high, even after all that partying, which you easily deduce to be due to the alcohol. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be singing along at the top of your lungs, not when you’re subconsciously aware that Mingi is just behind you. 

Sitting on someone’s lap was definitely not as comfortable as sitting on a car seat, and that was a given, so you find yourself shifting constantly, not realising Mingi closing his fists every time your ass shifts against him, particularly his crotch. 

Suddenly you feel the weight below you shift. Mingi’s arm wraps around your waist, his weight pressing against you. You stay put the moment you feel his lips barely inches away from the shell of your ear. 

“I strongly suggest you try to stay still, y/n, or it’ll become a problem for the both of us.” 

You turn your head slightly, barely enough to capture him within your peripherals. At first, you wonder if you’re starting to annoy him, but when you feel his hands slide down to your thighs and something hard pressing against your ass, you get your answer. 

And you wonder how far you should take this. 

Your face is heating up, at the idea you’re just sitting on Mingi’s thick erection, separated by the fabric of his pants and the ridiculously thin fabric of your body con dress. You wonder about his size, which only gets more vivid since you’re literally sitting right on his fucking cock—how thick he would be, how much he would stretch you open, and it’s making you slowly drench your panties. 

The more his erection is blatantly pressing against you, the more you can’t help but fidget on his lap. You’re wondering why Mingi hasn’t said anything, you wonder if he even felt it at all. The moment that thought forms in your brain, you pick out what sounded like low groans from behind you. Then you feel Mingi’s fingers press against your bare thighs, just this fucking close to lifting your dress. 

Mingi shifts against you, his hard cock now even more prominent against your ass—directly below your pussy if it wasn’t for the fact that there were layers of annoying fabric keeping them apart. 

His deep voice is like a melody in your ear,  “I’m closing an eye if you’re just doing this on accident, but there’s only so much more grinding I can take princess.”

You glance over to the company seated just right beside you—they are still singing their hearts out thanks to the self-assigned DJ of the car. The music was still blasting, and you realise you and Mingi are slowly forming another world—one growing of hot and heavy air. 

You’re trying to weigh your options and risks, but the constant friction of Mingi’s cock just poking you through his pants mixed with the light buzz from the alcohol earlier is keeping you less than logical. 

You lean back, the back of your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the thick coat tickle your cheeks, taking in the scent of his cologne that you swear only he could pull off, the boldness rushing into your veins like adrenaline.

“And if I said it wasn’t an accident?”

You don’t know what he might do next, but it’s making your legs tremble by the second. Your clit is fucking throbbing from the sheer anticipation. 

Mingi’s eyes dart to glance at you while his head remains positioned straight, before he presses himself onto you with a smirk against your ears, “Right. Glad we cleared that up, princess.” 

His hands press on the sides of your throat, two fingers tipping your jaw to turn your head to face him as he clashes his lips against yours, and you’re ready for him to just take whatever the fuck you have left. You’re doing your best to muffle your moans through the kisses, but as every second passes, you’re ready to give into it—mostly scream his fucking name into the night at this point. 

Your eyes are so glazed out, your pussy throbbing and drenched, your mind so sexually frustrated the more Mingi keeps you waiting. Mingi’s fingers trail along your bare thighs, his legs forcing yours to stay open, easily letting the gather of your dress push upwards, while his fingers push your panties to the side. You hear him mutter fuck when your wet cunt drenches his fingers. He barely drags his fingers over your clit, yet you already feel like you’re about to burst. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” Mingi asks, sinking his gaze into yours. You swallow hard and nod, so fucking entranced by his sharp eyes behind the glasses, and alongside the fact that his fingers are rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Fuck me. You’re so fucking wet for me”, he hisses, eating up your moans as he fits his thick fingers into your pussy, filling you up instantly. Oh god. You feel your mind completely blank out at the sensation of Song Mingi stretching you out. 

You swear that the wet sounds of Mingi’s fingers fucking your sopping cunt were louder than the music, but for some reason, and thank fuck, no one else seemed to notice. Yet. 

His other hand clasps over your mouth as he watches your eyes roll back, your desperate and satisfied moans muffled every time his thumb presses against your clit while his fingers fill you up again and again. 

You shouldn’t have agreed to stay quiet. 

Mingi’s legs are strong as fuck because his knees keep your legs from snapping shut as you let the feeling build in your stomach. Your hips are involuntarily bucking against his fingers, craving for him to fuck his fingers deeper. Shit. You can’t seem to get enough. He releases his hand off your mouth for a while, letting it wander to your tits, rolling your nipples over your dress with his fingers, listening to you pant and whimper.  

“Can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt once we get off”, he mutters into your ear, increasing his pressure on your clit. 

“Please… fuck! Mingi…” you trail, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. But the knot tightens hard and taut. You’re about to snap anytime soon. 

“Cum on my fingers for me, y/n. Show me how your cunt is gonna feel like when my cock is gonna stuff you full.”

His hand goes back to clamping over your mouth to muffle your cries while your orgasm rips through your body. Your eyes roll back, and your back arched against his abdomen, the pleasure spreading through every nerve while he’s still fucking you with his fingers, enjoying the way you’re completely undone because of him. Your cunt can’t seem to stop spasming and it’s only from his fucking fingers. 

But it slowly wears off, and he releases his hand from your mouth, letting you catch your breath. 

His fingers slowly leave your spent and creamy cunt, and for a split second, you’re almost disappointed. You turn your head, watching Mingi slide his stained fingers past his lips, licking them clean, and his eyes locked onto you. 

“You taste so fucking good, Princess”, he whispers, before his hands are on your throat again, pulling you in for a wet kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue, your face heating up at his words once more. 

The split second you pull away from him is when the music stops, and you hear your name being called.

“Y/n!”

Your eyes widen, and Mingi lowers his knees, letting you quickly shut your legs, letting his arm rest close to your legs, blocked by his fur coat. Thank fuck you’re in the dark. 

“This is your stop right?” Your friend asks before she turns on the interior car lights. You glance at the apartment building and sure enough, it is your apartment building. 

“Right”, you manage to answer with a forced smile. 

And as you are about to leave the car, Mingi suddenly announces, “I’ll send her up. Don’t wait for me.” He takes off his fur coat, draping it over your shoulders, quickly turning away as he pushes the car door open, ignoring the suggestive looks his group of friends were giving him before curtly saying his goodbyes and shutting the car door. 

Mingi is pretty much gentle with you as the both of you head up to your apartment, asking if you’re feeling cold, even though he’s only in a black tank top. You can’t help but gawk at how he looks even under shitty elevator lights—still so fucking hot. His fingers haven’t let go of yours yet since the both of you left the car, and he sure isn’t letting you go when the both of you reach to the door of your apartment. 

You feel so ridiculous in this oversized fur coat, but the fact that Mingi’s smell is just all over it makes you turn a blind eye to it. 

You unlock the door, pushing it open, the post nut clarity hitting, but the realisation of Mingi in a private space with you sending you mind into the gutter. 

And suddenly you feel your cunt throb again. Fuckin hell. 

“Cute place you have there”, he comments, slipping his shoes off. 

“I try to make the most out of it”, you return, taking off the fur coat, handing it back to him. 

Mingi pauses, staying near the door.

“I got no clue why I left the car like that, y/n. If you want me to leave, I can just call a cab and-“ 

His mouth runs, watching the way you’re walking towards him, and his lips snap shut when you pull him in for an open mouth kiss, his thoughts completely disappearing like they never existed. 

“Finish what you started, Minki”, you whisper when you pull away. 

For once, you like the way red looks on his pretty face, the red that disappears when he catches on, eye fucking you while thinking how fucking hot you look under normal apartment lights than the dim lights. 

His hands cup the back of your neck before his fingers are on your scalp, tugging your hair to face him, letting his lips collide with yours. You taste him so much more intensely now, and fuck does he taste like heaven. 

You feel his hands leave your head, going for your wrists instead, and he backs you up against the wall, deciding to pin your fucking wrists against the wall while stealing all of the oxygen you have left in between pants. 

His fingers trail down so lightly across your skin, you feel like you’re about to combust. 

“Is the couch fine for you?” He asks. You nod, just internally begging him to do anything to you. 

His hands slip down to your thighs, carrying you up in his arms, kissing and sucking against the skin of your neck while he navigates through your apartment. When he does find the couch (rather quickly), he lets you fall onto it, watching the way your dress rides up higher to your hips, your soaked panties coming into view, and his cock growing hard once more. 

“You know, you’re honestly killing me with that dress”, Mingi comments, his fingers tugging off your drenched panties, almost salivating over your glistening cunt. “Had to hold back from just pulling you out and fucking you.”

Oh, fucking gods. 

“That’s why we’re here now, aren’t we?” You tease, watching his satisfied grin grow bigger. 

You can’t wait for him to fuck your brains out. 

Mingi squats, letting his face press against your bare cunt, giving licks up, his tongue pressing against your clit while holding your legs apart. He thinks your whimpers and begs are like a fucking symphony—and he could listen to them over and over again while he breaks you, over and over again. 

It doesn’t last long, unfortunately, because he feels like he’s about to burst the longer he waits, his cock bulging against the fabric of his pants. 

So Mingi unbuckles his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear, his thick and long cock springs from his apparel, wet and decorated in thick precum. He gives himself quick strokes, amused by the way your face is turning a soft shade of pink. 

His thick fingers once again hold your wrists above you, lining his cock up to your pretty hole and pushing himself in, his girth taking up all space instantly. You see stars splatter beneath your eyelids as his cock stretches you out—thick and heavy. 

“Fuck. Song Mingi-“ you cry out, struggling against his grasp. 

“So fuckin tight, princess. Fuck, you feel so fucking good”, he sighs, letting himself bottom out in you, relishing in the way your face completely contorts into pleasure when he’s fully seated in you. 

And when he starts fucking you, your eyes roll back—the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you switching off most of your senses. 

You sense his arms pining your wrists are growing tired, so you do your best to tap his arm, and Mingi lets go, watching you slide his wrist down to your throat. 

You sure know how to push his buttons. 

He applies pressure and it hits all the perfect spots. A choked moan escapes you while he fucks you dumb. 

“I’d love to choke you more, princess, but I really need you to ride me right now”, Mingi whispers, his fingers leaving your throat, and he pulls his cock out. 

You climb onto his lap, lining his cock before you push yourself down, his fullness knocking the wind out of you once more. 

“Are you gonna take all of my cum like a good girl?” He hums, wiping away the tears from your eyes. You nod weakly, biting your lip. 

“That’s my good girl”, he compliments, and it makes your heart fucking soar. Mingi bounces you on his cock, groaning at the way you’re squeezing around him. “Fuck, squeeze me just like that. God, your pussy feels so fucking amazing, princess.”

“Mingi, I’m so close. Oh fuck I’m gonna-“

Mingi only holds your thighs down, watching you shake, feeling your cunt just clenching down and flutter on his cock, cream seeping down his shaft, and he groans in your ear, keeping himself deep in your pussy, his thick cum flooding into your tight cunt, listening to you curse while he forces you to ride out your high. 

“So fucking good. Mingi…” you mutter through tears and hiccup, letting Mingi kiss your tears before he slowly pulls his wet cock out of you, satisfied at the way his cum slowly trickles out of you while you catch your breath. 

Mingi waits for your mind to slowly clear, and you climb off him, but your fingers stay interlocked with his. 

“We can wash up and order food if you want”, you say, trying to avoid the fact that you’re still flushing slightly considering Song Mingi made a wreck out of you. 

But he pulls you along with him. 

“An invitation to shower together? I’ll gladly fuckin take it, princess.”

[headspace-hotel]

its possible to grow in your knowledge in a way that is very destructive to what you thought you knew as a writer.

plant blindness is very useful for writers because it allows them to give their settings placelessness. write stories that "could be set anywhere." I used to imagine placeless places. post-apocalyptic wastelands without trees, towns amidst long roads and cornfields.

Now I know that along the paths or in the cracks in the concrete, the weeds are growing. And a weed is an ecosystem, and an ecosystem is a Somewhere, a network of tethers to a land that is rooted in deep time. Plants are a clarification of where and when we are, and what happened, and what people did to the land, and how long ago that was, and whether they are still doing it. Everywhere is land, everywhere has ecology and geology. The omission of the plants in any setting feels like intrusive clouds of amnesia or jarring black bars censoring part of the reality.

I am conscious of the presence of land in my stories. I am conscious that the land is the ultimate progenitor of the characters, plot, and setting. I am aware that there are plants, which make the setting into a Place with a history and ongoing present.

the way I used to write is irretrievable. places are not just scenery, they are narratives of history, destruction, renewal, energy flow and cultural values. The plants are a driving force with their own agency. I can't not write about the plants!

[jcmarchi]

Inflection AI's Chatbot Pi Now Has Above 1 Million Daily Users, Claims to Rival GPT-4 and Gemini - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/inflection-ais-chatbot-pi-now-has-above-1-million-daily-users-claims-to-rival-gpt-4-and-gemini-technology-org/

Inflection AI's Chatbot Pi Now Has Above 1 Million Daily Users, Claims to Rival GPT-4 and Gemini - Technology Org

Consumer-focused startup Inflection AI has achieved a milestone with its chatbot Pi, exceeding 1 million daily active users.

Screen from the Pi Chatbot website. Image credit: Inflection AI

The Microsoft-backed firm has introduced Inflection-2.5, an upgraded artificial intelligence model, to enhance Pi’s capabilities. This move positions Pi to compete with rival models such as OpenAI’s GPT-4 and Google’s Gemini, say company representatives.

The upgraded model is now accessible to Pi users through various platforms, including pi.ai, iOS, Android, and the newly introduced desktop app. Pi, utilizing generative AI technology, engages users through conversational interactions, allowing them to ask questions and share interests.

Towards the end of 2023, Inflection made a significant foray into the AI market, coinciding with Google’s integration of Bard (now known as Gemini) into YouTube. During that period, Inflection, while not vying for the top position, positioned its model as the second-best large language model (LLM) globally, just behind GPT-4.

In a departure from that modest stance, Inflection’s latest update asserts that its model is now competitive with “all the world’s leading LLMs,” signaling a shift in confidence. The company anticipates substantial enhancements for its Pi chatbot, claiming the update has infused “IQ to Pi’s exceptional EQ.”

The update is said to have made notable progress in areas like coding and mathematics, reflecting concrete improvements on industry benchmarks. Additionally, Pi now integrates world-class real-time web search capabilities to deliver high-quality breaking news and updated information.

According to Inflection, Pi chatbot boasts 1 million daily users and 6 million monthly active users, with over 4 billion messages sent in total. Users engage in extensive conversations, with an average duration of 33 minutes, and around 10% of these conversations lasting for over an hour each day.

Written by Vytautas Valinskas

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

WDEFWeather #News12Weather: Looking towards #LookoutMountain, heavy rain, low visibility in downtown #ChattanoogaTN early Monday evening as a line of showers moves through.

[bizarreynomaki]

yeah mr concrete should totally do that offcially

also he does that bc coach z accidentally grabbed one of his concrete blocks and he punched him and then flipped off the bird

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere Eldritch being who has taken over your entire town.

TW. Dead Dove Do Not Eat Horror, confinement, isolation, death, Stockholm syndrome, yandere

You didn’t know when it had happened, but there was something very obviously wrong with your town.

It was the little things like the warped street signs, the inconsistent cracks in the sidewalk, and the way that the uncanny faces of people seemed to stare at you. It didn’t use to be like this, but you found yourself cautious about your new reality on the daily. You did try to leave and call for help, but there was some mysterious force cutting off your network. And when you did try to pack all your bags and high tail it out of there, you would end up just looping straight back on your street no matter what direction you drove in.

So now you made do with the fact that nothing was normal.

You sometimes wonder why whatever has infected all the people decided to leave you alone. Because there was no way it wasn’t a conscious decision. Your favorite flowers would start sprouting out of concrete walls and glass despite the fact it would be the middle of winter one day and a scorching summer the next. Not to mention, those flowers didn’t even grow here to begin with. It was a gesture. If it was meant to tempt or be kind, you weren’t sure. 

The town functioned like nothing was out of the ordinary, though. Well, at least it tried to puppet the barely real bodies of your community to do things they would daily. The grocery store always had food and figures milling about, and even though none of the products ever tasted quite right or had words in a real language, you could tell “it” was trying to keep things running for you.

You’d once tried to hide away in your house, thinking that it was somehow protecting you from whatever was out there. But all you did was make it angry. Constant thunderstorms that shook the ground, and hail that pounded on your roof and walls. When you continued to stay inside, that’s when it made things clear: it was letting you stay as you were. The house shifted dramatically, doors disappearing and walls bending in front of your eyes. 

Come outside. Stop trying to resist.

Privacy was just another one of those far-out concepts now.

The thing, as you so liked to call it, had been more affectionate lately. You didn’t know exactly how to describe it, but it had started morphing all the “people” into more attractive versions of themselves. Or at least, what it thought of as attractive to humans. Their faces were more tangible now and less blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but they were uncanny in a new way. Skin too smooth, too perfect in so many different ways. Symmetrical, full lips, pleasant expressions, soothing voices: all things that on paper would lure someone in, but it had alarm bells ringing in your head nearly all the time now.

“I don’t like this, you know,” You said one day as you sat in the diner. The room was stretched out wider than what it looked like on the outside, and the waitress had an unnaturally wide smile. Before you was a plate of… something. Your guess was pancakes.

“What do you mean?” Several voices asked at once. It came from all around, and the waitress’s mouth barely moved to match the words. 

“ I like you better when you aren’t trying so hard to be something you weren’t.”

There was a pause, and the building slowly unraveled into a jumbled mess of things that you could barely comprehend, the other patrons' faces and bodies melting away into linoleum floors. 

“You’re not human. You don’t have to be. I think I’d prefer that honestly,” You shrugged and poked at your food. From the corner of your eyes, a figure seemed to emerge from the mess of what used to be your favorite restaurant. It was a writhing mass of dark tendrils, reaching for anything nearby. You’re breath caught in your throat.

“Do you really mean that?”

The voice spoke, but there wasn’t any face to accompany it. It reverberated in the base of your spine, racing through your nerves like lightning. Your breath hitched, and you finally gathered enough courage to look at it. It was a mess of things you couldn’t quite make out, but it was almost comforting. 

“This is the first time I’ve actually seen you,” you admitted, a small laugh of disbelief caught in your throat. You couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time it had actually listened to you. 

The being twitched, pulsing as it slid over towards where you were sitting at the booth. It was the only thing that had stayed intact. For something so expressionless, you’d dare to say it seemed shy. 

From the inky mass, one tendril reached out for you, the air around it crackling. You stayed in place as it slid over your hand, and you felt the wonder and relief.

“Will you stay with me? I don’t want to force you, but I’m so alone… you’re the only one who doesn’t disappear when I’m near.”

You blinked as the mass filled the cracks between your hands, folding into the lines of your palms as if trying to memorize you. If it had a hand, you’d be holding it. If it had lips, yours would be slotting against them. If it had a heart, you were certain they’d be painted a similar shade of loneliness. 

You stood up and slowly approached it, holding out your arms as you leaned in, wrapped your arms around its slowly forming figure, and nodded in silence. 

[crushmeeren]

okay okay okay but what if the reader got their belly button or nipples pierced and Katsuki or touya are SHOCKED but quickly realize just how much they love the new piercing(s) omg

okay, but this would be so HOT!!

༝ ᭝ ༝ i’m putting them both in this cuz i can’t stop myself ༝ ᭝ ༝

ᯓ★ dividers created by me.

master list link ༝ ᭝ ༝ @pixelcafe-network

༝ ᭝ ༝ katsuki ༝ ᭝ ༝

“The fuck? What the hell is that?”

You freeze with your elbows to your ears, Katsuki only having stripped off your shirt halfway before stopping, and glance down to what he’s staring at. You roll your eyes playfully, batting his hands away and finish what he’d started. You toss the material over the side of the bed and flop back down onto the mattress.

“It’s a belly button ring. You know what those are, right?”

Katsuki sits back on his calves, rolling his eyes even harder, and levels you with a glare. “Yeah, dumbass, I know what a belly button ring is. When did you fuckin’ get one?”

You grin mischievously, hooking your thumbs into your underwear and slip them off as well. “A couple weeks ago,” you say causally, parting your thighs wider. You reach down with one hand to place a finger on either side of your pussy and spread yourself open.

Katsuki narrows his eyes. “How the fuck did you hide it from me? I see you naked all the time!” His hands curl into fists on his thighs, lids lowering when he shifts his gaze to your pussy. The heat is evident in his expression.

You move your hand up to play with your clit, two fingers rubbing slow circles and pleasure prickles in your lower belly, toes lightly curling.

Katsuki’s cock twitches very obviously in his briefs and your confidence skyrockets.

“Obviously not in the past couple weeks. You’ve been so distracted with work it wasn’t hard to keep it a secret.” You raise an eyebrow, a smug, small smile on your lips. “Well, do you like what you see?”

Red eyes flicker to your face as Katsuki smirks. “Fuck yes. You’re so stupidly hot, princess.” He reaches out and lets his finger delicately play with the jewelry, coaxing a shiver down your spine and a soft moan from your throat. “So sensitive, isn’t that right baby?” He teases, tugging lightly at the ring.

You respond with a whiny “mm-hmm,” head tilting back into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting when Katsuki’s thumb takes over circling your clit. Katsuki’s warmth disappears entirely, leaving you cold, but before you can protest there’s soft, warm lips pressing a kiss to your pussy.

“Fuckk,” you choke out, something hot jolting through you. You tangle your fingers in thick, blonde hair. “You really like it Kat?”

Katsuki hums his confirmation and the vibration makes you yelp, a wet tongue dragging up between your lips and flicking over your clit. He pulls back slightly, warm breath tickling you. “Should I get a tongue ring princess? Bet that’d feel real fuckin’ good on your pretty little pussy, yeah?” He asks lowly, licking you like an ice cream cone before you respond.

You curse and tighten your grip in his hair, eagerly encouraging the idea. Katsuki grips the backs of your thighs, seals your clit in the searing heat of his mouth and eats your pussy like he’s trying to devour you whole.

He gets your chest heaving, flushed down your nipples, and you’re so sensitive that each touch makes your thighs jerk while you whine in protest.

Katsuki’s hard cock bobs when he yanks his briefs down, shaking his head with a grin.

“We’re not even fuckin’ close to done yet baby. You wanted my attention so badly, gettin’ that piercing. I’m just givin’ you what you asked for, princess. Now be a good girl and take my cock.”

༝ ᭝ ༝ touya ༝ ᭝ ༝

Shit happens.

More often than not, you roll with the punches. Cracking your neck and brushing it off, but this time it stuck to you like glue.

Sparse gravel crunched underneath your boots as you walked the familiar concrete path to the LOV hideout. Your arms swung a bit too quickly, buzzing with excitement to show Touya your new jewelry that you’re certain he’ll greatly appreciate.

Your phone had buzzed with a text from Touya, stopping you dead in your tracks. All he’d said was that they had to lay low because they’d run into some heroes, and that he’d be burning his phone. No other details.

That was two months ago. It isn’t out of the norm for this to happen, and you’d tried hard to stay busy, you really did, but no dice. You’ve been worrying about him from dusk to dawn, and vice versa.

You tug your blanket up over your shoulder to fight off a chill, curling further into your pillow, and pause your aimless scrolling to check the time. 2:00 a.m. You’re this close to turning off your bedside lamp and passing out when a creak at your window widens your eyes, almost comically so, and a rush of adrenaline tingles in your fingers.

You shoot straight up, heart jumping to your throat and blankets pooling at your waist. Your window opens slowly, and a fluffy head of white hair pokes in. The rising tidal wave of relief just about chokes you while you scramble out of bed.

“Touya,” you breathe, voice watery with emotion. You slam into his skinny frame as he stands to his full height, burying your face into his chest and locking your arms around his waist. His smoky, end of bonfire scent floods you with comfort.

“There there, drama queen, I’m fuckin’ fine,” he teases gently, but his voice sounds rougher than usual, and he loops his arms around your shoulders and squeezes tight.

You wrench your head back to stare up at him, eyes stinging, lower lip trembling horribly. “You asshole,” you mutter hotly, framing his cheeks and yanking him into a bruising kiss.

He takes it in stride, humming with satisfaction and skims his hands over your sides, bunching up your shirt. The rough texture of his lower lip burns against yours, and the warmth gathering in your chest drops to settle in your lower belly.

Touya ends up shoving you roughly onto the bed, stripping the both of you, hands a flurry of movement. The last piece of clothing is the large t-shirt you’re wearing, and when he pushes it up to your collarbone his jaw actually drops when he sees the new addition to your tits.

It’d be quite funny if you didn’t want him to fuck you so badly.

“Holy shit,” he says with an incredulous laugh. “When’d you get your tits pierced, sweetheart?” He finishes tugging your shirt off and blistering hands cup the swell of your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples.

“Careful,” you hiss, back arching to push your breasts into his palms. “They’re still sensitive,” you complain, moaning lowly when he squeezes and ducks down to kiss your sternum. “I - I got them done right before you left.” You can’t help but to tangle your fingers in his coarse hair as you speak.

“Goddamn doll, so fuckin’ gorgeous. I’ll kick Shigaraki’s ass for makin’ me miss this,” he murmurs into your skin, trailing kisses along your chest until he reaches just beside your nipple. “Gonna let me suck on these pretty titties?”

Touya rolls his hips, allowing the soft, warm skin of his shaft to slide over your clit. Your hips jerk up to meet him. “No teeth,” you warn, digging your nails into his scalp.

He lifts his head to grin lazily at you, one hand reaching down between you to steady his cock, his slick tip already pressing and begging to be inside. “No promises.”

He sucks your nipple into his mouth and shoves his cock inside you with one rough thrust. You shout his name, pussy fluttering around the unexpected cock splitting you open. He fucks you hard and desperate, tongue relentlessly playing with your piercings as he wrings all the pleasure from your body.

Touya’s mouth doesn’t leave your nipples for a second, tongue circling the jewelry as if to memorize the taste. His teeth graze the delicate skin and you smack the side of his head. His cock twitches and he moans, falling over the edge and into his own high.

Safe to say, Touya fucking loves your new piercings.

[helpmoamen]

Help Moamen Rebuild His Life: Orphaned and Amputated Due to the War in Gaza

Moamen, an 6-year-old boy, had his life changed forever during the devastating war in Gaza. While playing near his home, an airstrike destroyed his house, taking his father’s life and leaving Moamen severely injured. He lost his right leg and, along with it, a part of his childhood.

Today, Moamen is an orphan, just like his five siblings. Their father, who was their pillar of strength, is no longer with them, and their mother is doing her best to hold on to hope despite this immense tragedy. But the challenges they face are overwhelming.

An Urgent Need for Medical Treatment and a Prosthetic Leg

Moamen requires daily medical care that costs approximately $200 per day. This treatment is crucial to prevent infections, ease his pain, and prepare his body to receive a prosthetic leg. For him, this prosthesis is not just a medical necessity; it represents the hope of walking again and regaining some sense of normalcy in his life.

A Call for International Solidarity

We have reached out to several international organizations for assistance, but so far, no concrete help has arrived. That’s why we are turning to you—your generosity and humanity—to help us transform Moamen’s life and that of his family.

Why Your Support Is Vital

The $200 needed daily for Moamen’s medical care is far beyond his family’s means. With your donations:

• You will contribute to the vital treatments he needs.

• You will help fund a prosthetic leg to restore his mobility.

• You will give Moamen and his siblings the chance to build a better future despite the hardships they face.

A Small Act of Kindness Can Make a Big Difference

Every contribution, no matter how small, can have a tremendous impact on Moamen’s life. Together, we can restore hope and show that even in the darkest times, compassion and humanity prevail.

Help us give Moamen a second chance.

Donate today and share this campaign with your friends, family, and networks.

@crusty @libelelle @coastalhorrors @tenderscience @tiercel @nvtxl @nonbinary-watanuki @verdiesque @eremes @whatcoloristhatcat @waterloggedsoliloquy @antisocialxconstruct

@mirrorhousemusicgroup @gothhabiba @capybarad @femmesbians @specialmouse @s9sh9 @jesse-pinko @leechloach @dadpilled @thedyke @c-rberus @ilovenanu @mlm-blues @void-flesh @stellarfalls @queerpyracy @lakesbian @bitegore @u3pxx @crtvirus @d-druxy @pornogrindprincess @rubyfunkey @muscosus @6oys @hexhomos @soymikki @spoiled-ojousama @rosamundpike @snailsinmybrain @halorvic @pallegina @bioh4zards @zapmolcunos @radiantfaith @nekomacbeth @ashirpa @drag-on-dragoon @metamorphesque @redphienix

[reasonsforhope]

"Amsterdam’s roofs have just been converted into a giant sponge that will make the city more climate resilient.

The Dutch have always been famous for their ability to control water, born out of the necessity of their homeland, much of which is below sea level.

Now, their expert water management skills are transforming the city skyline in the capital city of Amsterdam from one of terracotta tile, concrete, and shingles into green grass and brown earth.

It’s part of a new climate-resiliency trend in architecture and civic planning known as the ‘sponge city concept,’ in which a garden of water-loving plants, mosses, and soil absorbs excess rainwater before feeding it into the building for use in flushing toilets or watering plants on the ground.

If heavy rains are predicted, a smart valve system empties the stored rainwater into the municipal storm drains and sewers in advance of the weather, allowing the roof to soak up water and reduce flooding in the city.

In this way, the rooftops of buildings can be wrung out and filled up just like a sponge.

In Amsterdam, 45,000 square meters, or 11 acres of flat metropolitan rooftops have already been fitted with these systems, and the contracting firms behind the technology say they make sense in dry climates like Spain just as much as in wet climates like Amsterdam...

A 4-year project of different firms and organizations called Resilio, the resilient network for smart climate adaptive rooftops, rolled out thousands of square meters of sponge city technology into new buildings. As with many climate technologies, the costs are high upfront but tend to result in savings from several expenditures like water utilities and water damage, over a long-enough time horizon...

All together, Amsterdam’s sponge capacity is over 120,000 gallons.

“We think the concept is applicable to many urban areas around the world,” Kasper Spaan from Waternet, Amsterdam’s public water management organization, told Wired Magazine. “In the south of Europe–Italy and Spain–where there are really drought-stressed areas, there’s new attention for rainwater catchment.”

Indeed the sponge city concept comes into a different shade when installed in drought-prone regions. Waters absorbed by rooftops during heavy rains can be used for municipal purposes to reduce pressure on underground aquifers or rivers, or be sweated out under the Sun’s rays which cools the interior of the building naturally.

Additionally, if solar panels were added on top of the rooftop garden, the evaporation would keep the panels cooler, which has been shown in other projects to improve their energy generation.

“Our philosophy in the end is not that on every roof, everything is possible,” says Spaan, “but that on every roof, something is possible.”

Matt Simon, reporting on the Resilio project for Wired, said succinctly that perhaps science fiction authors have missed the mark when it came to envisioning the city of the future, and that rather than being a glittering metropolis of glass, metal, and marble as smooth as a pannacotta, it will look an awful lot more like an enormous sculpture garden."

-via Good News Network, May 15, 2024

[astrologydray]

Ruler of the 11th through the houses

ruler of the 11th house through the houses — aka the placement that shows how you manifest your dreams, attract allies, influence your community, and leave your mark on the future. Where the ruler of your 11th house lands shows how your soul finds its tribe, builds connections, and channels collective energy into your personal goals.

11th House Ruler in the 1st House

You are the vision.

You’re the face of the movement, the one others gravitate toward. Friends and followers may project their ideals onto you. You’re a walking brand for your beliefs. Social power: You attract community by being you. Dreams come true through: Authenticity + self-leadership. “I am the change I want to see.”

11th House Ruler in the 2nd House

You build your dreams brick by brick.

You attract supportive people through your values, loyalty, and resourcefulness. You may earn money from communities or tech, or build wealth through your network. Social power: Grounded presence, steady loyalty. Dreams come true through: Monetizing your values + talents. “I invest in people who invest in me.”

11th House Ruler in the 3rd House

You speak your vision into existence.

You’re a social butterfly or a word magician. Your community forms through communication, writing, social media, or local circles. You inspire through your ideas. Social power: Your voice, message, and connections. Dreams come true through: Networking + sharing your mind. “My words spark movements.”

11th House Ruler in the 4th House

You build soul family, not just friends.

You attract community that feels like home. Your vision involves nurturing others, creating safe spaces, or honoring your roots. You’re the heart of the group. Social power: Emotional safety, vulnerability, inner knowing. Dreams come true through: Ancestral healing + intimate bonds. “My community is my chosen family.”

11th House Ruler in the 5th House

Your joy inspires the crowd.

You attract people through your art, charisma, and playful spirit. You’re the “main character” friend and a natural performer. You create collective change through beauty, love, and creativity. Social power: Confidence, originality, big Leo energy. Dreams come true through: Self-expression + fun. “I light up the room, and others follow the glow.”

11th House Ruler in the 6th House

You serve the collective.

You build community through service, healing, and dedication. You might meet your people at work or through wellness spaces. You’re the quiet power behind a bigger movement. Social power: Reliability, healing presence, humble service. Dreams come true through: Discipline + being of use. “I make my vision real, one step at a time.”

11th House Ruler in the 7th House

You build dreams in partnership.

You attract people through charm, collaboration, and diplomacy. Your community may include romantic partners, clients, or teammates. Balance is your gift. Social power: Relationship-building, 1-on-1 magic. Dreams come true through: Collaboration + alignment. “Together, we can do anything.”

11th House Ruler in the 8th House

You alchemize collective power.

You draw in intense, transformative connections. Your social circle might include healers, mystics, or powerful allies. You help others (and yourself) transform through shared purpose. Social power: Depth, secrets, magnetism. Dreams come true through: Shadow work, merging resources. “I change the world by facing what others fear.”

11th House Ruler in the 9th House

Your vision has wings.

You find community through travel, higher education, spirituality, or big-picture thinking. You may go global — teaching, preaching, or expanding minds. Social power: Wisdom, faith, worldview. Dreams come true through: Expansion, learning, spiritual alignment. “My tribe is worldwide.”

11th House Ruler in the 10th House

You’re known for your network.

Your legacy is tied to community impact. You may be a public figure, influencer, or leader who channels collective goals into something concrete. People watch you rise. Social power: Visibility, influence, credibility. Dreams come true through: Strategy + aligned authority. “My influence is my impact.”

11th House Ruler in the 11th House

You’re the community architect.

You were made to lead groups, organize movements, and spark future-forward shifts. You’re an innovator, a visionary, and a magnet for rebels + change agents. Social power: Authenticity, innovation, group synergy. Dreams come true through: Staying true to your weird genius. “I’m here to build the future.”

11th House Ruler in the 12th House

You dream in silence.

Your social power is spiritual, intuitive, or hidden. You may attract secret supporters, karmic friends, or spiritual allies. Solitude fuels your creativity + vision. Social power: Healing energy, dream wisdom, divine downloads. Dreams come true through: Rest, surrender, unseen support. “I connect through spirit first, then people.”