#Blue Tree Monitor

[emaadsidiki]

World of Reptiles at Bronx Zoo 🐍🦎🌵🐢🐸

[hellagator]

New fursona ref sheet for art fight! Yippee✨

[vault81]

hmm what colours should i use for the acadia banner? for some reason I'm being drawn towards a more teal colour.. or maybe a royal blue?

[scalproie]

fursona-assigning session with the gang

[rabbitcruiser]

Madagascar! opened on June 20, 2008.

[cryptic-corv01d]

Blue tree monitor custom enclosure w live plants and climbing walls

Then after I get branches and extra things in there and make it all nice and settled, 2 captive bred baby blue tree monitors

LOOK AT THIS GUY

BEAUTIFUL

rb with the first thing you'd buy if Bruce Wayne was your glucose father

[deardiarywrites]

dealing with the blues : how to manage negative emotions and more ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა rotting vs resting

i know how upsetting life can be sometimes. you want to get better but something happens and life just keeps pushing you down, and you fall further and further into a rut. and because of that, you start to feel even worse. "why am i not doing as good as the others?" , "why am i so xyz?" , "why am i not like her?" etc etc. cmon my love. this isn't the time to compare yourself to others and feel even worse but to slowly dig up the soil, and find out what is actually going on. ♡ just take a day off, babe seriously. sometimes you just need to let yourself be upset and be unproductive yk? there is nooo shame in being unproductive as hell for a day or two. take your time and have a good break. now talking about breaks, we have a problem. are you really resting or rotting? RESTING makes you feel good, happy and energised ROTTING makes you feel guilty, unproductive, sluggish a lot of the times, instead of resting and recharging our minds, we are feeding our minds with lots and lots of brainrot, indulging in bad habits in the name of "resting", avoiding important work etc which in return make us feel even worse! well, resting isn't supposed to do that, right? resting is supposed to recharge you, get you ready to fight again. so next time you choose to 'rest', be mindful. do not indulge in things that you know will make you feel worse. doomscrolling is not resting. stalking your friends is not self care. intentionally avoiding important work is not self care. binge watching series by wrecking your sleep schedule and then feel guilty abt being on your phone all day is not self care. self care and resting is doing things you love which will nourish your mind and distract you for a little while, so that you can take a step back and just be aive for a bit.

an example of a day off could be smth like this ( just an example, please remember that everyone's life is different and so is yours. adjust accordingly ) : ʚɞ do not set any alarm, let yourself wake up naturally and when you do, pick up that book you have been meaning to read for a long time. ʚɞ have breakfast ʚɞ do 1 thing you really love and which makes you super happy (dancing, singing, acting etc) ʚɞ talk to someone or write abt how you are feeling ʚɞ try to create smth. a quick diy project, a lil sketch, crochet, a new dance move, a song cover, a poem, a video, photography etc ʚɞ do 1 imp work which you have been putting off (homework, stdy for a test etc) ʚɞ delete instagram for a bit and surround yourself with positivity. use tumblr, youtube, pinterest instead. ʚɞ go outside, even for just 5 minutes. ʚɞ maybe call up your friend/s and play smth ʚɞ take cute pics of urself ʚɞ maybe post smth cute on tumblr wink wink ʚɞ have a cute night ritual and then go to bed. ₊⊹ monitor what you have been consuming lately what you feed your mind and body actually matters (lol what a shocker). so tell me, have you been eating well? sleeping well? surrounding yourself with positivity? or have you been consuming content which further degrades your mental and physical health? try to replace unhealthy junk with healthy stuff. fix your fyp, choose "not interested" for posts which no longer resonate with you. declutter and reorganise. i really, really suggest trying a quick digital detox for a day. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ talk to someone who you feel safe with. you can even text me, ill try my best to respond <3 please talk to someone when you feel upset, communicate bbgs, communicate! even if it is hard and uncomfortable. if you feel like you have no one to talk to, talk to a stuffed animal or a tree or yourself. let those thoughts and feelings out, don't hold them inside your body. release them. observe them. try to understand them. but never let negative emotions become a part of you. they come and go, like any other emotion. you will be just fine. even when it feels like it is the end of the world love you always,

@deardiarywrites

[ddarker-dreams]

What Remains Unspoken.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan

Warnings: Yandere themes & unhealthy relationships. Word count: 2.2k.

If there’s anywhere Feitan looks out of his element, it’s in the sun. 

The celestial object serves as his antitheses — warm, bright, and inviting. Given his pallid countenance, he must agree. On the rare occasions you can go outside, he keeps to the shadows, whose darkness could never match the depravity festering inside his rotten soul. You believe night itself would flee from him if it knew a fraction of his crimes. 

When you first saw him enter direct sunlight, a certain superstition overtook you, triumphing over reason. You observed with tentative expectation, waiting for something to happen, whatever that something may be. For his skin to break out into blisters, flesh to sizzle, and howls of agony to dominate the air as he disintegrated into a pile of ash; in short, a demise befitting a monster like himself. Regrettably, this didn’t happen. Disappointment weighed heavy on your chest when he went on his merry way. 

Presently, he stands hidden amidst a cluster of trees, acting every bit the fairytale ghoul your overactive imagination wished him to be. Through the branches' interstices, light speckles his dark outerwear. It’s a hot, balmy day, though evening’s arrival soothes the worst of the heat. 

Unlike him, you’re dressed for the weather. This morning, upon leaving your shower, you found the comfortable clothes you picked out beforehand ‘mysteriously’ replaced. A short, light blue dress featuring a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps laid there instead. That wasn’t all. Jewelry, heels, and other various accessories were tossed haphazardly alongside it, like you’d been undecided on what to wear before a first date. Except you hadn’t been the one to get everything out. Feitan was. Prior to that, he never took any interest in what you wore. 

No, that attribute belongs to another, whose memory fills you with sickening dread. 

You sit at a wooden picnic table, examining the park’s abundant foliage. There’s little else for you to do. Feitan’s yet to give any indication as to why you’re here. Typically, his modus operandi consists of stashing you far away from the public’s purview. From time to time, you’ll travel elsewhere, always using methods that limit your potential interactions with others. This part of the park may be less populated, but hikers and families can still stroll by. You take care not to draw attention to yourself when they do. 

Sighing, you stand, fully aware of the eyes monitoring you in the distance. Unsure of what else to do, you approach the last place you spotted Feitan. He says nothing as you approach. You hug yourself, almost regretting your decision to seek him out. By giving you no parameters to work with, you’re left constantly second-guessing yourself, fearing that you’ve broken some unspoken rule. Standing by his side feels like a safer bet than risking a stranger coming over to strike up a conversation. 

“Bored?” Feitan asks. 

You freeze, thinking over your next words with care. If he believes this little outing is a ‘privilege’, you doubt he’d appreciate you maligning it. Then again, he’s suggested creative punishments for your tongue whenever it’s formed a lie. Considering this, you decide it’s best to redirect the conversation. 

“I’m just wondering if there’s anything I should be doing,” you say. When he raises a thin eyebrow, you hastily add, “Sorry, I mean—” 

He flicks your forehead, silencing you. 

“So nervous,” he croons. “Like little rabbit.” 

Irritation bubbles up inside your chest, like a geyser ready to erupt. You want to scoff, asking why he thinks that is, but the provocation goes unchallenged. He isn’t wrong, per se. Every snap of a twig or distant conversation the wind carries instills unease. Endless grisly possibilities swarm your mind. All it could take is a greeting, wave, hell, even a look for Feitan to decide that person’s committed the ultimate transgression. 

Suddenly, this preoccupation flees your mind.

Shivers erupt all over your body. Your breathing halts, as do all other forms of movement. The five senses that categorize and make sense of the world recede, like the shoreline moments before a tsunami. What remains eclipses common sense. It’s this unprovable premonition, a whisper amidst the universe’s chaotic chorus few can ever hear. No tangible stimuli support this phenomenon. You’d believe yourself temporarily mad, if not for one damning detail. 

You’ve felt this before. 

The time you’d been found after your first (and only) escape. 

After a well-meaning Hunter pried you from the shackles of captivity, for less than a minute. 

Then, at the height of your hubris, when you yelled that your first love would be your last. 

The intensity honed to a fine point. It pierced through you like a gunshot, so visceral that you’d check yourself for signs of the wound. You never found anything. You think it was how your brain wanted to make sense of the unknown, mistaking the force of concentrated emotion for a flesh wound. This extremity wasn’t kind, but it wasn’t malevolent either; it was oppressive. Heavy, carnal. A starved beast prowling toward cornered prey. 

When you’d been subjected to this, the subjugator always spoke some variation of— 

“—Apologies. My control waned there, for a moment… but can you blame me?” 

Someone’s touching you. Someone’s cupping your face in their hands, devouring each detail of your being, and Feitan’s letting them. You stumble back, only to be caught. The hands holding you in place are larger than Feitan’s. Warmer too, a little less calloused, though no less stained in oceans of blood. If Feitan’s eyes are knife-like, trying to stab through your skull for any hint at your inner thoughts, then these eyes are calm. Calculating in a way that makes you feel small. 

“You’re lovelier than I remember,” the man murmurs. A breeze passes through, displacing your hair, which he tucks back into place. His lips twitch upward, indicating amusement. “What? Did you believe you’d ridden yourself of me?” 

Despite your reverie, you shake your head. The man before you — Chrollo Lucilfer — smiles. It’s deceptively soft. Had you not known him better, you’d think the fondness he currently regards you with as warm; the gentle flames of a hearth. There are tells that reveal another story. His grip varies in strength as he’s reminded of how delicate you are, indicating a lack of his usual ‘mindfulness.’ You both know he’s putting on a front of normalcy, yet the charade is rarely this lackluster. He descended upon you faster than the human eye could comprehend. There’d been no casual stride, just an impulse to have you as immediately as physics would allow. His pupils are dilated and his cheeks slightly flushed, like you were a substance to get drunk off of. 

The embrace he pulls you into is tight enough to make you squeak. 

You expect him to rile you up, whispering teasing words into your ear, yet he’s silent. Unusually so. He buries his face into the crook of your exposed neck, breathing you in, holding you close. Any pretense of cordiality is dropped as he acts like the greedy man he truly is. This neediness is reminiscent of a child reunited with their lost, favorite toy. 

The unsettling intimacy doesn’t last for long. 

Chrollo releases you from his grasp. The relief is fleeting, as you’re acutely aware of Feitan’s presence. He’s stationed not far behind you, watching the scene in silence. The sadistic man’s capacity to share fully eluded your understanding. From what you can remember, Chrollo’s more willing to discuss their past, but solely on his terms. He’s never explained why Feitan is the way he is, or how he views you. 

“He’s fond of you, in his own way,” is the most you got out of Chrollo, during a late-night talk. “He’s just shy.” 

“It’s good to see you again, Fei,” Chrollo greets. 

Feitan nods — his way of returning the sentiment, you reckon. In Chrollo’s absence, you’ve learned to interpret his behavior to minimize friction. The deference he has for Chrollo is subtle yet undeniable. Others might misinterpret Feitan’s silence as indifference, but you know better. In Chrollo’s presence, he straightens his posture, giving him rapt attention. He follows any order given by his boss. 

Especially those regarding you. 

Ever since that fateful September, Feitan went from a background character in your life to the lead role. He didn’t reveal much, just that you wouldn’t see ‘the boss’ anytime soon, as he needed to ‘fix things.’ York New was a sore subject that you rarely broached. Nearly ten months have passed since you’ve last seen Chrollo. Physically, he’s the same. There are bandages wrapped around his forehead, covering his forehead tattoo. He’s wearing his teal earrings, dark jeans, and a gray v-neck. 

Seeing him now, it’s almost like nothing’s changed. 

Almost. 

“Lost in thought, love?” Chrollo wonders. 

Blinking rapidly, you realize they’re both staring at you, awaiting an answer. 

“You’re… you’re back,” is your genius observation.

“I am.” 

“You were… um… gone,” you fiddle with your fingers, “For a long time.” 

“I was,” he agrees with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You see dark circles forming beneath them. “This entire affair has proven itself tedious. No matter. In a few short days, it’ll all be over.” 

“There’s more to take care of?” 

He hums, the sound low and somehow eerie. “You could put it that way. Originally, I was going to wait until after I evened one last score to see you, but impatience got the best of me.” 

“Ah,” you shift your weight from foot to foot. “That explains it, then.” 

“Explains what, dear?” 

“You seem, I don’t know… off? Creepy to the second power? Cubed?” 

Chrollo gives you a blank stare. Feitan’s hissing something about how you ‘talk too much,’ his displeasure evident. It dawns on you then that you haven’t interacted with Chrollo in so long, it’s possible his tolerance for your nonsense isn’t what it once was. Especially considering the state he’s in now. Regret churns your insides as silence fills the air, thickening it like smoke. You think to apologize, only to recall their dislike for insincerity. Feitan never wanted apologies, whereas Chrollo accepted them if proven genuine through a rigorous process. 

You wince at the sound Chrollo muffles behind his hand. 

Then, much to your disbelief, it evolves into a chuckle. 

His shoulders tremble as his eyes turn crescent-shaped, gleaming with mirth. He shakes his head and clears his throat. After a few seconds, he regains control of himself, though his posture is less rigid. This visage aligns better with your memories of him. He liked pretending he was ordinary — almost as much as you liked pretending to believe him. 

Feitan clicks his tongue. “This girl… always says. Never thinks.” 

“You must admit, it’s a cute habit,” Chrollo says.

To this, Feitan mutters a phrase in his native language, turning his gaze away from you. 

You cross your arms over your chest. They both had an irritating tendency to talk about you like you weren’t present, a pet peeve you hadn’t had to deal with in a while. The candidness they displayed made you wonder what they spoke about when you weren’t around. A pandora’s box best left unopened, surely. 

Chrollo pries one of your hands free to hold in his own. “Words cannot convey how much I missed you."

He follows this admission up by kissing the back of your hand.

“... I can’t stick around much longer, I’m afraid,” he murmurs. “Bear with me a while longer.” 

Another chaste kiss. After allowing his lips to linger on your skin a while longer, he relinquishes his grip, tucking his hands into his pockets to deter him from further indulgence. 

Unexpectedly, it’s Feitan who shifts the topic. 

“Boss,” he speaks, now lurking by your side. “She watch the fight?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glance between them, thrown off by the cryptic language. Truthfully, you don’t want to know about whatever it is Chrollo has to do. From what you can glean, it’s likely to involve people getting hurt or dying. You’ve learned the best way to keep your conscience clean is to remain ignorant. If you press on certain issues, Feitan will gleefully overshare gritty details you could’ve gone without. 

His response is swift and firm. “No, not this one.” 

“... That bad?” Feitan asks. When all Chrollo does is smile, he adds, “Heh. Poor clown.” 

Chrollo’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Upon reading the caller’s name, he steps away. “Keep an eye on her for me a while longer, Fei.” 

The aforementioned man grunts. 

Chrollo spares you a long, final look. 

His lips part, as if he intends to say something, before they shut. Inquisitive, you tilt your head, not used to him hesitating. He’s always projected this self-assured image — untouchable, near omnipotent. Flaws don’t suit him. There's this invisible screen that separates you from men like him and Feitan. Their access to abilities beyond comprehension elevates them, setting them apart.

You prefer it that way. Categorizing them as 'others' is easier than reconciling the fact their more human than infernal.

Eventually, he gives you an unusually reserved smile. 

"After everything's over, I'll find you."

[stop-talking]

Happy Accident

a little NSFW Mike Schmidt imagine :3

MDNI 18+

This was just going to be a blurb, but I'm losing my mind over the thought of a touch starved, depraved, horny, & slightly perverted Mike Schmidt... so enjoy 2.4k words of filth <3

(gender neutral! reader ❤️)

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• You'd been babysitting Abby for a while, but when Mike got that new night shift job... well, you weren't sure it was going to mesh with your schedule. Still, he needed you. And how could you say no to those big brown eyes?

• So, you started spending your weeknights at the Schmidt house. Mike would get home right as it was time for you to leave for school/work, so you had to get ready at his house, too.

• That meant bringing a change of clothes, usually thrown carelessly into an old blue duffle you used as an overnight bag.

• Coincidentally, Mike's work bag was strikingly similar to your own. If it wasn't just a tad bit dirtier, well... it might be easy to get them mixed up.

• Or... maybe the slight physical differences don't matter when you're both running on hopes, prayers, and caffeine. Hey, it's not easy adjusting to a new schedule. Especially one that requires Mike to leave when he should be going to bed.

• It only took a few days for him to slip up. You were running late that night, and while he couldn't blame you (you get what you pay for, and he hadn't paid you at all) he also didn't have time to stop and chat like normal.

• Instead, he hiked (what he thought was) his bag up on his shoulder, gave you a curt goodbye, and left for another shift at Freddy's.

• At first, everything was normal. He did a quick lap around the building, tried to ignore the creepy shuffling noises coming from shadowy corners, and checked the monitors once or twice before settling down into his chair for the night.

• Mike reached into his bag for his prescription, medicine to help him sleep. Or... perhaps a snack. Maybe even a hoodie he could bunch up on the desk and use as a pillow. Something like that. What his hand actually came back up with made his mind go blank, and he immediately forgot what he'd wanted in the first place.

• In his hand, he held... underwear. And not his own. Definitely not his own. Mike froze, heart pounding as he tried to make sense of what he was holding.

• You. You'd starting bringing a change of clothes for babysitting now, hadn't you? In a... a bag that looked nearly identical to his own. Oh. Oh no.

• Mike dropped the article of clothing, face flushing a deep crimson. Then, feeling guilty at leaving your clothing on the grungy pizzeria floor, he quickly tossed it back in the duffle bag and zipped it up.

• He kicked the whole thing under the desk, trying to hide the evidence further. Who from? He had no idea. Mike felt extra grateful today to be in the one room in the whole building without a security cam.

• Yeah. That's right. No one had to know about this. That he'd... well, it was an accident anyway. How could he have known it wasn't his bag?

• Taking a deep breath, he started to come up with a plan. He'd say he realized it wasn't his bag, but only after getting to work. Once he'd noticed it was yours, he left it in the car and didn't touch it. There. That would work.

• Relieved, Mike lay his head down on the desk to try and get some sleep.

• Unfortunately, sleep never came. He still felt bad about taking your bag, even if it was an accident. What would you wear to work? You always left right as he came home, even if he brought your bag back after his shift you'd still end up leaving late.

• It also didn't help that Mike didn't have his sleeping pills. Or his cassette tape with "sounds of Nebraska" recorded on it. All he had was a stupid Nebraska poster, and a bag that wasn't his. Mike tried staring at the poster, but without the accompanying music and medicine, it did nothing but annoy him.

• Stupid trees. Stupid Nebraska. Stupid job. Stupid Mike. How could he make such a dumb mistake? Surely you'd be angry with him. He hadn't paid you in weeks, and then he goes and makes things even harder for you?

• With his stomach in knots and his mind and heart still racing, Mike resigned himself to not sleeping tonight. Instead, he pushed himself up from the desk and started to pace around the abandoned pizzeria.

• Part of him just needed to relieve some nervous energy, and the other part needed a distraction. From the guilt he felt, yes, but also from that goddamn bag of yours.

• Well, not the bag so much as your clothes. The... intimate ones. Mike slapped his palm to his forehead, trying to physically force out the disgraceful thoughts plaguing his mind. You weren't interested in him like that. This was so fucked up. He was so fucked up.

• A few more slaps to his forehead later, Mike halted in his pacing around the dining room. It had suddenly occurred to him that if anyone did happen to be watching, he'd look pretty silly smacking himself and muttering under his breath like he was.

• Mike turned and eyed the nearest security cam with suspicion, until a soft scraping noise drew his attention on stage. Had Bonnie always been looking this direction?

• Feeling the same level of nervousness and guilt, now accompanied by fear and paranoia, Mike retreated back to the safety of his office. There, he faced the same problems as before, a spike of excitement running through him as his foot brushed your bag under the desk. Maybe he'd take a quick peek at your things?

• No. He couldn't. He shouldn't. It wouldn't be right.

• Still... what else could he do tonight? Mike glanced at the digital clock on the edge of his desk, the flashing red numbers seeming to taunt him as he realized he still had five more hours left in his shift.

• Fuck. With a grunt, he slammed his head down on the desk and covered it with his arms. Just because he couldn't sleep through work tonight didn't mean he had to do his job. No, Mike had decided the very first night that he wasn't paid enough for this bullshit. So he simply worked as little as possible.

• He wasn't going to watch the monitors. And he certainty wasn't going to think about you. Nope. He was simply going to sit here and do nothing. Think about nothing.

Think about nothing.

Think about nothing.

Think about nothing.

• His strategy seemed to work for all of two minutes, repeating the same phrase in his head over and over until he couldn't stand it any longer. Images of you kept popping into his mind. Your smile, your eyes, and that sweet expression of pure warmth you gave him whenever he came home from work. Like you were genuinely happy to see him.

• Nobody else had ever treated him as well as you did. That's why he had to keep these feelings buried, stomp the embers into ash and blow those ashes into the wind. He couldn't afford to lose you.

• Still, Mike couldn't help but wonder. What if the feeling was mutual? Something in his chest stirred, and suddenly all he could imagine was seeing that warm smile of yours underneath him in bed. Would you still be able to run that cute mouth if he pinned you down to the mattress, legs thrown over his shoulders? Or would you find a way to tease him, like usual?

• Shit. Was it getting hot in here? Mike sat up to remove his jacket, then stupidly started for the duffel back to put it away. Right. Not his.

• Mike closed his eyes and suddenly, the piece of clothing in his hand wasn't his at all, but yours. Your underwear. Mike was considering removing his jeans too, as they were rapidly becoming too tight.

• Breathe, Schmidt. Mike took a few deep breaths, but nothing was helping. His blood grew hotter, his pants tighter, and his mind more muddled.

• This was usually the point where Mike would pop on his headphones, listen to the familiar sounds of his tape recorder, stare at a poster, and think "Nebraska" thoughts.

• Unfortunately, without his equipment... this wasn't going to work. He couldn't make it through another ten minutes without some kind of relief, much less an entire shift. Mike dropped the jacket and his hands went to his belt, undoing his pants and immediately dropping those to the floor as well.

• Yeah... maybe a little "stress relief" was all he needed. A distraction. Something to take his mind off you.

• Mike couldn't help but let out a chuckle at that thought. Take his mind off you? As he was palming his hardening cock through his boxers? As if.

• If anything, this would only make him crave you more. But, as he freed himself from the (slightly sticky...) confines of his underwear, he decided that would be a problem for future Mike. Currently, he just wanted to cum. Preferably in you, but all over himself while thinking about you would have to do for now.

• He tried to start slow, he really did. But in a matter of minutes, he was fucking fervently into his hand, hips bucking up off the chair slightly. He kicked off one shoe and wiggled a foot free of his discarded jeans, spreading his legs for stability as he sank back into the seat.

• Precum dribbled down his cock, coating his length and providing some much needed slick. Mike held his breath without realizing it, growing closer to the edge but still not quite there. Damnit.

• After what felt like an eternity of effort, Mike pulled his hand away with a rather pathetic whine. Panting, he scowled down at his still-twitching cock. This was exactly why he didn't often... well, take matters into his own hands.

• It wasn't enough. It wouldn't ever be enough. Not without your warm body wrapped around his. Hand, mouth, anything. Mike would take absolutely anything you were be willing to give. Especially in his current state.

• But he wasn't going to get that, was he? Not now, and probably not ever, if he was honest with himself.

• Mike's heart and cock ached in tandem, frustration bubbling to the surface and drowning out all other thoughts. How could he have been so stupid? Now he'd have to sit here half-naked and even more worked up then when he'd started. Mike bit his lip at the realization that he'd just checked himself into the next circle of hell.

• No, no. He could finish the job. He had to. There was no way he could endure this all shift. Even if he managed, what then? Go home to you and try to muster up an apology while on the verge of creaming his pants? Absolutely not.

• Mike worked his cock again, faster this time. His eyes scanned the room, subconsciously searching for something, anything to help. He was aching. The pressure built and built inside him, his stomach muscles clenching and unclenching in soft ripples as he threatened to spill. It didn't come. He didn't come.

• Finally, his gaze landed on something that made him shudder in excitement. Thinking with his dick and not his brain, he reached for the duffle back under the desk. He just needed a little something to help fuel his imagination. A nudge, that was all. Just a minute. He could return it back to it's spot in your bag after, and you'd never even have to know.

• Shaking, he brought your underwear to his nose with his free hand. The other was gripped tightly around the base of his cock, his mind and senses too overwhelmed by frenzied lust to do anything more than inhale deeply.

• Fuuuuck. It smelled like you. Well, that much was obvious, but never in his wildest wet dreams had he expected you to smell so completely delicious. His mouth watered almost as much as his poor weeping cock as he gave it a few languid strokes.

• In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to put his face between your legs and feast. Lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue, swallowing every drop of your cum until you had nothing more to give.

• His tongue peeked out to lick at the cotton-y fabric of your underwear, imagining the damp spot was from your arousal and not his own mouth. That small taste of you is what finally sent him hurdling over the edge, inhaling sharply and getting one last whiff of your scent before frantically cumming into the closest piece of cloth... your underwear.

• Rope after rope of pearly white release soaked the fabric, again and again until he'd emptied his balls... and then some. Mike fucked into his hand until it hurt.

• When he eventually re-gained enough of his mental capacities to realize his mistake, he let out a groan. Gingerly, he peeled the sticky fabric from his softening cock, whining at how his sensitive damp skin was now exposed to the cool air.

• As he peered at the ruined garment in front of him, Mike came to the conclusion that his situation was not salvageable. He was completely and utterly fucked. In more ways than one.

• He gently tucked himself back into his boxers with a shudder, still reeling in the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. Okay, step one, get dressed. Step two, skip town and never look back. No way in hell he could face you after this, even if he could miraculously get the cum-stains from your clothing.

• But... he had to, didn't he? He couldn't abandon Abby. Or his home. Or you, even, as much as he wanted to crawl into a hole and die right now.

• So, Mike spent the rest of his shift using an ancient bathroom sink and hand soap trying to scrub the evidence away. Maybe... maybe he could salvage this after all.

Or maybe when he looked at you from now on, he'd only be able to see a sick, twisted fantasy, and the shameful result of his indulgence.

Probably the 2nd one. oh well.

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Author's note:

Hi!! Hi!! Hi hi hi hi hi!!! 😁 I'm so happy to finally be able to post something again!! 🥰

It's been almost a year now since I posted a fic, I hope this was a decent comeback!! This one's dedicated to all you peeps who love this pathetic, tired little man as much as I do <3 (Also, I've made a side-blog where I will be reposting all my fics. If you're only here for fanfic and not my shitposting, I completely understand! Or if you just want to follow me on both but only turn on notifications for fanfic, that works too! The account is @stop-talking-vtwo )

[the-unicorns-of-nienna]

[Image Description: a photograph of a big blue lizard perched on a tree branch. End image description.]

Blue Tree Monitor Lizard (Varanus macraei), family Varanidae, found on the island of Batanta in Indonesia

ENDANGERED.

photograph by Hectonichus 

[kaiserboom]

What about yn getting super flustered by physical touch avoids eye contact and is blushing and characters are worried but then get smug when they realise 🙈

a/n: OMG NONNIE?? I LOVE THIS IDEA SMMM WTH. YOU DIDN'T TELL ME WHAT CHARACTERS SO I JUST FREESTYLED SO HOPEFULLY THAT'S OK.

featuring: bllk men, pre-skip! haikyuu men, jjk men , demon slayer men,aot

-content: pure fluff!

gn! reader

𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚!

Geto, Iwazumi, Toji, Sanemi, Sae, Rin, Eren, Your favs!

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know. in fact!, they knew ever since! it started when you two had your first date together, sitting down next to one another, each legs caressing each other.

he could see how you were purposely ignoring him; every time he would move slightly closer; you would just end up moving further, even when he would sneak tiny glance at your direction just to see what you were even doing, you would find a way to somehow notice, and when you did; you would suddenly pause. tired with your "childish" act he decided to put matters in his own hands. he grabs your chin, fingers softly caressing you, he stares at you for short minute, before his tone comes out flat. "What you lookin at?...focus on me." of course just has he planned, you begin to struggle to meet his glaze.

his eyes linger on you as a sly smile begins to form. "Am I makin you that nervous? sweetheart?" just in that moment you tried to shove him off, but his mind already been focused on you "ah,ah,ah.." he coos; you can feel his tone grasping to an flirty comment.

"let's see how shy my pretty baby, can get."

𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙊 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙊 𝙊𝘽𝙇𝙄𝙑𝙊𝙐𝙎!

Isagi, Bokuto, Choso, Oiwaka, Douma, Armin, Your favs!

he been observing you, While also thinking about lots of things, like why is water blue?, or if he ate himself would he disappear or get bigger. but one thought that kept appearing in his head was you.

he was questioning himself about why you wouldn't talk to him with any kind of eye contact, but you could with almost everyone else?, was he scary to you? or were you slowly starting to hate on him?, he paces up to you; pushing people out of his way if he had to.

you were seated under an tree, lost in your own thoughts. you glance up noticing how the sharp heat disappearing suddenly. you then found the culprit. seeing your boyfriend standing Infront you, his body shading you away from the sun, you were about to open your mouth to speak, but he speaks out first, his tone was soft, and gentle, with a calm approach. he crouched down to meet your eyes- of course your eyes quickly darted away. noticing this he grabs your hands and putting it near his heart, pressing them softly. your eyes flicker with surprise, you were caught off guard by the sudden depth of his emotion.

"love me dammit!" he glares at you for a while, before noticing your flustered expression, he never seen you like this, instead of asking what's wrong, he immediately assumes your sick. he lets go of your hands, "Oh my gosh?! y/n!!" he stands up trying get you some water; so oblivious to the fact. your just being flustered.

𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗔𝗕𝗨𝗦𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥!

Bachira, Kaiser, Astumu, Suna, Reiner, Obani, kuroo, Your favs!

how could he not abuse this God-Given gift?, he was granted with an flustered-cute looking partner! you could be so focused on trying hand in assignments and suddenly, you can feel his hands creeping up against your waist.

"babe-" you softly whispered out an warning. but did he stop? nah, its not like he trying make you upset, its just to him, making you into a stuttering mess, was a challenge with an reward at the end. "your so perfect, and so cute" he monitors how your eyes rapidly glimpse across the room to his praises. he knows your succumbing to them. and he finds it funny. he decides to play a bit dumb- just to make a more critical point, "aww.. wait?- why are you so warm... are you sick. my love?" when he gets no reaction from you.

he starts to chuckle to himself "ah, that's right. my poor y/n can't answer simple questions...not when your so busy being flustered..huh, thats kind of cute."

what an jerk. you curse under your breath.

@dollywons  for divider

[imaginedreamwrite]

thrift thursday for LTH with konig

reader worried about how's she going to afford the major stuff fr the baby (car seat, stroller, crib, baby monitor, etc)

she comes home to a crib that is already built, baby monitors around the house, and plans to go shopping for a stroller she likes

When I get back I have to start saving to buy baby furniture

König reads and re-reads the text a few times before blowing out a puff of smoke. He tampers the cigarette when he’s done beneath his boot and raises his head, looking at the trees surrounding the property. He was expecting you any minute now, his eagerness to see his omega and unborn baby was understated.

“Are you sure I should go? The doctor said it’s fine to fly, but should I?” You were invited to a relatives wedding, and weren’t sure whether you should go.

“Ja, and get a prenatal massage before you attend the wedding.” König encouraged you, heavily encouraged you, because he had plans for the cabin.

You were worried about being able to afford things, about being able to provide for your baby. Even with everything König had done, you still felt as if you needed to do this alone. But he was going to prove you wrong, he was going to show you that you had someone who was strong and capable in your corner.

König brushed the cigarette off the steps when he heard the crunch of gravel beneath the tires of the vehicle. He stood and waited as the vehicle came to a stop. König’s heart clenched with prideful glee over seeing his omega carrying their baby, and he crossed the distance to help you out of the vehicle.

“Willkommen zu Hause, kleines Kaninchen.” König rested his hands on your belly, smoothing them up and down the roundness to feel his baby kicking against his hands. “Hallo mein Kleiner, dein Vater ist hier.”

“I missed you.” Your confession was a melody he craved, and his hands shifted from your belly to your cheeks, cupping them in his large rough hands.

“I missed you too, meine omega.” König leaned forward and slated his lips against yours, tenderly and softly kissing you. His hands drop to your shoulders and then your waist, as he pulls away only just. “I have a surprise. Komm mit mir.”

He grabs your hand and leads you, taking you from the gravel drive up the porch, and then inside. König steadies your hand as he helps you up the stairs to the nursery. The door is closed with a hand painted image of a small bear on the wood and your babies name above the bear.

“König, what’s going on?” Your voice is tight, as if you know he’s up to something. “What did-”

“I am your alpha,” he turns to look down at you, his blue eyes search yours as he speaks, “you are meine. And I will always take care of you, I will always take care of what is meine. And you…”

“König-“

“…are carrying my baby. And this is my family.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. Once he pulls away he presses his hand against the door and opens your view to the nursery.

There inside is a well crafted and handmade wooden crib, one with sturdy frames and carved animals that match the nursery’s forest theme. It’s a gift for you and your baby, something to ease your anxieties about this pregnancy.

“König…” you breathe his name and feel your heart racing, your eyes welling with tears as you enter the room, your feet carrying you to crib. “What is this?”

“Ours,” he stands behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders, his chest to your back, “this is our baby’s room.”

“You did this?”

“While you were gone.” He bends down and kisses the top of your head, the alpha that was yours was encompassing you tenderly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“It’s beautiful.” You mumble, eyes soft and tender. “König, thank you.”

“Yes,” he agreed with you and slipped his hands under your shirt, “it is a beautiful crib. We have almost everything we need, but we will go and pick a stroller together.”

He felt you lean back against him, your back pressed to his chest, and your hands covering your belly. It was the best gift he could give you, the proof of his devotion and commitment.

[tashgoose]

Final design and illustration drawing for the varanid dragon commission. This will be painted in watercolour soon! It's based on arboreal monitor lizard species, blue, black and emerald tree monitors.

Digital - Clip Studio

[simsionic]

Updated Resource List: UI Edition (Updated 11/10/24)

This is all the mods in my downloads folder that changes the game UI and makes it look better on modern display, removes annoyances etc. My old resource list only listed 3 which have since been replaced.

I play on a 2k monitor with the game set to 1080p with the default UI because I like the nostalgic look.

If you use cleanUI by @greatcheesecakepersona, then many of the widescreen fixes are already included! Many of these also have an alternative version made for cleanUI.

Loading screen replacement:

UC loading screen by @eddysims replace the Fun With Pets logo and removes idle M&G sims on select menu (I use an older version to match the Super Collection for mac, but have combined with this to remove the idle sims).

UC startup strings by @simsllama replace the M&G text strings while loading to fit Ultimate Collection.

M&G to UC program name replacement (MTS) changes the program name to say Ultimate Collection on taskbar, when closing the game and in credits. I use the old original Sims 2 icon in start menu.

More UI mods below my loading screen.

Removed or disabled buttons:

No delete button in Sim Bin by Chris Hatch avoid accidentially deleting a family in the neighborhood.

No delete button in Buy/Build mode by Chris Hatch. I prefer to delete cc in the downloads folder instead.

Edited No useless town buttons by ePSYlord. Removes the AL, FT and Pets buttons from upper select menu in hood view. It also disables Custom Content Browser button to the old sims2 webpage, the camera and video buttons which I never use but always accidentially click.

Removed Auto Login button by ePSYlord. Removes the redundant option in settings.

No delete button in CAS, edited More Columns in CAS by ePSYlord. This is an edit of Chris Hatch's ui mod (cas300Extra) that adds the columns while also removing delete button from all categories. I had difficulty getting it to work for me, but managed after changing load order and removing specific cc hairs.

Remove hood popup dialog box reoploaded on MATY. No more nagging to add subhoods when entering a neighborhood.

Visual annoyances begone:

No CC icon in CAS (MTS) hides the star on custom content.

No pause frame by @simnopke removes the red frame from live, buy and build mode.

Add store icon to CAS by @jawusa. Restore the TS2 Store Edition icon on store content which can all be found here.

Widescreen fixes:

Wider change appearance by Chris Hatch.

Wider buy/plan outfits by Chris Hatch.

Wider family tree by SixAM!

Wider design tool by @lamare-sims.

Wider collections by Chris Hatch.

Menu fixes or addons:

Subhood selection by Mootilda changes menu from big button to list of selections instead. Useful if playing with multiple subhoods.

Select your cemetery (MTS) adds dialog box to move tombstones if all sims on a lot die.

Baby Last Name Chooser by @midgethetree adds dialog box to choose a baby's last name when born.

Marriage Last Name Chooser (MTS) adds dialog box to choose last name after sims gets married.

Misc. UI changes:

Clearer need bars by simnopke. It just looks nicer.

Season icons in color (MTS). Replace the blue with colorful icons.

LTW icons fixed by Lamare. Resizes the Life Time Wants icons to be consistent.

I think that was everything concerning the user interface in my game. A lot more than anticipated and most added in the last year or so. My game looks so nice now!

If you have other UI mods or dialog box addons that isn't on the list, then please leave a suggestion for me 🥰

[rabbitcruiser]

Madagascar! opened on June 20, 2008.

[herpsandbirds]

Blue Tree Monitor Lizard (Varanus macraei), hatchling, family Varanidae, found on the island of Batanta in Indonesia

ENDANGERED.

photograph by Sundown Reptiles