#scuttle buddy

[keeperofthebees]

a gorgeous girl I saw on the way to class the other day. unfortunately she was at the end of her life with damaged wings so there wasn't much for me to do. I think she's a Polyphemus moth.

[venterry]

mayfly spotted

[heartbunnymoth]

@jaypostssometimes

Soil centipede, Orya barbarica, Oryidae

Found in Morocco and Spain

Photos 1-6 by faluke, 7 by sebsant, 8-9 by pierrecorbrion, and 10 (for scale) by federico_biguzzi

[deconstructthesoup]

All right, now, personal ranking of the Ratgrinders:

At the bottom---rock bottom---is Buddy. I cannot stand him already. He makes my skin crawl. I want to smack that happy little smile off of his face and keep him as far away from Bucky Applebees as possible.

Just above him is Ruben. We haven't seen much of him, but the lyrics of In Space, No One Can Hear You Dying is enough to know how sucky he is. Not as bad as Buddy, but still. Entitled, clingy eboy.

Mary Ann... well, she's got a cute style, and she can definitely pack a punch. I think I would like her more if she didn't remind me of the types of players who don't pay attention to the story. Maybe we'll see a better side of her.

Kipperlilly does give off pretentious vibes, and she's definitely that stuck-up, perfect teacher's pet, but... I dunno. I think she and Kristen should kiss. Get it outta their system. Plus, the fact that she was apparently an old PC of Brennan's (in a campaign with Nate Stevenson, no less!) and her name alluding to "Red Herring" makes me think that there's something more to her.

Ivy is definitely a little mean, but she's also hot. She's got a Garthy voice and is rocking the cool girl swag. I've got a feeling that there's something more to her (also, maybe history between her and Mazey? Maybe?)

I want to know more about Lucy. She's compelling on her own with being a frost genasi and a mysterious cleric. I need to know everything about her.

And at the very top is Oisin. I love him. He's a nerdy, hot blue dragonborn who applies physics to beer pong. He thinks that Adaine is cute and actually wanted to help her out. They can be the ace wizard power couple of all time if Oisin continues to be a good guy and leaves his shitty party members behind. If only one of the Ratgrinders gets to do a heelturn then it has to be him.

[hostradio]

i  think  al  always  smells  of  blood  (  the  degree  to  which  is  determined  by  how  recently  he's  killed  someone  —  so  usually  quite  strongly  )  with  an  undertone  of  damp  soil  and  rotting  leaves.  eau  de  wet,  decaying  wilderness.  that  being  said,  i  think  if  he  ever  were  to  wear  a  conventional  fragrance,  it  he  probably  prefer  something  along  the  lines  of  a  cologne  scented  like  spiced  amber.  warm,  heady  whiskey;  clearly  pairs  well  with  the  blood  smell.

[failfemme]

why’d i look at the notes on that post…. saw someone describe anti-psych as “crab bucket mentality” which tells me they know nothing about the movement!!!

[fordreviews]

📽️ The Little Mermaid (1989)

I hadn’t seen this movie in so long! It was so nostalgic to rewatch this. It also kind of made me sad because of everything they changed for the new one. I’m not talking about Ariel: I honestly don’t care at all about the skin color. But there were so many other things that made this movie so great that just didn’t translate to live action. But I digress. This is a classic, and this is the version that my children will be shown.

Sex/nudity: 3/10 (Ariel is nude or almost nude for a good chunk of the movie, kissing — I know it’s animated, but still)

Language: 1/10 (God’s name in French)

Violence: 4/10 (there are several fight scenes that are mild by adult standards but could be very frightening for children)

Overall rating: 8/10

[velvetwyrme]

prev // next

moth skyfire REAL <3!!!

also hello to the people who asked me about skyfire. you were all correct! (also extra kudos to @t4ckie-j4ckie who also guessed that skyfires little buddy D0C would make an appearance shfkfhdk) SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT.

take the full picture of Doc and the Buges + misc. notes under the cut as compensation.

There are actually TWO people working at the clinic- Doc and Dia :]

Skyfire is the resident cybug at the veterinary clinic. Doc found him half frozen in the winter and nursed him back to health, and now he just lives there

Cosmos lives at Doc's house instead of the clinic, but they'll bring him in sometimes because otherwise he gets a little lonely :(

Dia has some cybugs as well! They started off with just one, but then things kept happening and now they have like, a whole scuttle of them.

They helped foster a couple of cybugs that were rescued, and ended up keeping both of them ^^" They then ended up with another after they uh... encountered a cybug traveling in their direction. Very swiftly. (Dia is still recovering.)

Also there's that one cybug in their garden that kinda hangs around their porch. He's an honorary member of their household, even though hes a stray

Doc is also a moderator on r/cybugs. He had to break up fights between Buster and Bob and became acquainted with them that way

also i didnt know where else to put this but. i imagine you can also hold seekers like how people hold small birds when they tag them.

[respectissexy]

Apropo of a Reddit post, here is my casting for a Rat Grinders spinoff.

Kipperlilly Copperkettle: Aabria Iyengar. Loves being intense and bitchy in actual play.

Mary Ann Scuttle: Katie Marovich, obviously.

Ivy: Lily Du. Lily's niche on DropOut is being hot and mean, and she needs a real hot meanie to inhabit in the dome.

Oisin: Ify Nwadiwe.

Ruben Hopclap: Ruben is where it gets tricky. A lot of people on DropOut could play a good Ruben Hopclap. Grant could give us a great Ruben. Freddie Wong. Jacob Wysocki. Brian David Gilbert. All potential legendary Ruben Hopclaps.

In a sequel to Junior Year: Grant O Brien could be a great Buddy Dawn, but I'd really give this role to Ross Bryant.

In a prequel to Junior Year: Honestly, I think the best Lucy would be Oscar Montoya. I don't know why, but that feels right to me.

[pseudowho]

Fright Night! Multi-Fic

The local fair has a Halloween fright night! Actors and zombies and terror, oh my! You drag your boyfriend to it...how does that go for you?

Gojo, Geto, Toji, Higuruma and Ino

18+, NSFW/suggestive in parts

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Gojo: Goes in smiling. Obnoxious laughter the whole way, and it only worsens when you're screaming at every single actor. As you cringe away from a dead-eyed bride, Gojo tickles your ribs until you squirm.

"Awww, baby, you scared? You're scared, right?"

As if in answer to his question, and received with heaps of cackles, you screech when some hideous creature with no teeth and bloodstained rags lunges at you from the dark.

"Satoru-- hold my hand--"

"--ahhh, yeah, okay...c'mere."

He pulls you in, and you scuttle to keep up with his long-legged stride. Still, the horrors continue and so does his mockery.

His teasing is relentless. Your fear is gradually replaced by indignant prickling anger. You take your chance, when it comes.

"You go in first," you beg Satoru, outside a horrifying old room full of dolls, "please, Satoru, check it out first before I go--"

He huffs as if actually bothered, but his shit-eating grin gives him away as he ambles inside. "Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twi--"

You promptly shove the door closed with a bang! and yank a chair beneath the doorknob. You've heard rumours about this room; you are not disappointed. Satoru's voice sounds wary. The doorknob rattles just once, and you bite your lip with a smile.

"--hey...hey, babe, the...the dolls are moving."

Nervous laughter from the room. You try to hide the laughter in your voice.

"Oh yeah? You okay?"

"--OH, FU-- yeah, I'm fine. You know me, I'm the stronge--"

Satoru's voice cuts off with a profoundly girly screech, and the doorknob rattles violently while you twist with silent hilarity, tears streaming down your cheeks as you choke out.

"Ohhhh, nooo, Satoru, the door's stuck!"

More screeches, bangs and horrifying eerie noises, but you're too busy pressed forwards on your knees, laughing and laughing to the confused looks of passers-by.

"The dolls aren't dolls! THE DOLLS AREN'T DOLLS! BABE! LET ME OUT!"

A guy leans down to you, pointing at the door.

"Hey, uh...can we go in?"

You wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, bursting into laughter as you hear Satoru scream again.

"No...no, sorry buddy. This one's gonna be taken for a while, I think."

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Geto: Total con-artist. Though he croons to you, cloudsoft and soothing through your horror, he's the puppet master. The horror engineer. The king of manipulation.

Every time another actor leaps out to set fear aflame in your veins, Suguru only pretends to be surprised; he isn't. He's already led you around this maze three times, anticipating the flow of the actors, and bleeding you for maximum terror.

He doesn't want to admit how his cock twitches against his thigh every time you break down into a whimpering mess; but, he can't deny that he's getting off on this.

"Shhhh, shhh shhh shhh," he soothes, one arm holding you to his side while his lips and nose ghost the shell of your ear, "shhh, baby, it's okay...it's all just pretend. I'm here. I've got you."

You look confused, your memory tangled by fear; "I...I could swear we've been this way already, Suguru--"

"Trust me. I know the way. These mazes are all samey. You're just getting mixed up, silly. Come on."

He has distracted you again, of course. He walks forwards, looking back to you with a smile. You frown, looking down at Suguru's two empty hands...and wondering whose hand you are holding.

The scream you scream, as Suguru seamlessly replaces himself with a white-eyed, rotten-fleshed actor, sends a dribble of pre-cum down his thigh.

He's just waiting until he can get you home, switch off all the lights, and continue the scare trail straight into bed.

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Toji: Utterly unbothered, and smirks his way around. Some of the actors approach, take one look at him, and then turn tail to scare someone else. Anyone else.

But halfway round, he gets bored, and disappears. You're left, abandoned; alone. Toji wants to get in on the action.

You're surrounded by screams, and silence, and dry ice in the dark, and you turn on the spot, spinning, frantic, your heart pounding, your tongue dry, sweat dripping down the small of your back--

Until the sound of metal on metal. Something scraping along a wall. Footsteps heavier than your own heartbeat. And, the one small light source you have is blocked, as a monster of a man in a boiler suit, mask and axe fills the doorway.

The whimper that leaves you is audible; "...Toji?" As if you could be so lucky.

Silence. His heavy, laboured breathing. The footsteps begin towards you, slowly at first...before he runs.

You run, too, shrieking like a banshee, too loud for you to hear the occasional laugh beneath the monstrous man's roars. You find yourself chased down to a dead end, your back and palms flat against the wall, chest heaving, and he approaches slowly, watching you behind his mask.

The blade of the (very blunt) axe strokes down, down, down the centre line of your torso to stop just over your sex, and you whimper, mortified by the trickle of arousal that creeps through you.

"T-Toji--" You whisper to yourself, "T-Toji, where the fuck--please please please help me--oh my god ohmygod ohmygod--"

A shiver seems to go through the man, who leans down and whispers, in a voice so familiar that your jaw drops.

"Like bein' chased, huh? What about bein' caught? You like bein' caught?"

Judging by the way his boiler suit tents, Toji likes it, at least.

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Higuruma: Has not got the mental wherewithal for this, today. Perhaps another day, but not today. And it infuriates him, when his colourful imagination and adrenaline threaten to overtake his inherent logic that this is all just make-believe.

"For fuck's sa-- pull yourself together, Hiromi," he groans as another horrifying creature-person scuttles past in a contortionist twist. You're carried on his back, squealing and kicking into him, while he huffs at you with beleaguered fondness.

Every time something makes him jump, a noise of bewildered shock bursts out, and he growls at himself, running his hand back through his hair and pressing his forehead against a nearby wall.

A few actors, however, take one look at him and treat him as part of the furniture. Hiromi frowns.

"Some of them think I look scared enough, apparently."

You mumbled into his neck. "Scary enough, I think you mean. Look--"

You gently turn his face to a flaking full length mirror. Hiromi drinks himself in; still in a dishevelled suit and tie, sweatstains, coffee drip on his white shirt, and dark circles that surely have to be make-up.

Suddenly, it clicks.

"Ahhh," Hiromi breathes putting you down to your screeching indignation; he doesn't notice as you press yourself to the wall, instead rubbing his face and clothes on a discarded 'bloody' rag.

By the time he's finished, stepping slowly over to you, chin tilted down and looking down at you with beetle-black eyes, you feel a shiver running through you. He's...frightening. Clearly some awful spectral businessman, covered in blood and dirt and horror.

"You...wow. Yeah, Hiromi, you look...great."

Hiromi shrugs you onto his back with a satisfied little chuckle, and the rest of your scare trail is relatively unhindered. Passers-by skirt round him with a wary gaze, and the sinister little smile on his face only adds to the effect.

You stroke one finger down his chest, sultry and whispering.

"Hey, Hiro...stay like this, later, for...activities."

"You are utterly twisted, my love. I absolutely can."

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Ino: Just as scared as you. Absolute chocolate teapot. You'd have done better taking a puppy with you, probably, because the actors approach Ino thinking he can take it, and he absolutely can't.

If Takuma could have jumped into your arms, a la Scooby Doo, he would have. Alas, he simply pulls his balaclava down in groaning terror. When other visitors then scream at him, too, thinking he's part of the crew, he raises his balaclava back up with a suppressed sob.

"Baby-- I can't take it-- I'm too weak-- my heart--"

"Takuma, I--" You shriek, too, when some ghastly woman in a bloodstained nightdress appears. She runs for you both, and you and Takuma sprint away, hand-in-hand, half-laughing, and half-crying.

By the time you round a corner, slamming the door to trap yourselves in a dark room, you and Ino hold each other, panting in the gloom. You feel a familiar hard press against your belly, and look up at Takuma with utter disbelief. He blushes, his lower lip drawing up and looking aside with a grumble.

"--are you excited, Takuma--"

"--aww, shit, babe, you know he don't make any sense--"

His words cut off with a strangled moan as you grip him through his pants, and, biting your lip, lower to your knees. Takuma's jaw drops, his cock twitching up as it's released. You whisper up at him in the dark.

"...emotional support blow-job?"

"F-fuck yeah, emotional support blow-job, I can be your hero after that--"

A few people come to investigate the ghostly little moans coming from your room, but Ino blocks the door with one trembling, jittering foot until the moans crescendo.

[sempiosoysauce]

i think in my mind jacob was born to play max durden (not a rat grinder but it’s literally just him) and zach reino would make a great ruben (i only say this because he basically plays that character in off book a couple of times- especially in the emo knights episode) but wysocki ruben is now a close second. vic would play kipperlilly tho. that’s just factual information.

this is really helping my ideal rat grinder fancast of jacob as ruben and vic as kipperlily

[joeloverture]

fair's fair | pervy!dbf!joel x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: pervy!dbf!joel x pervy!f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel shoves you in his sweaty pits as a 'joke'. warnings: (18+ mdni) pervy!dbf!joel, age gap (early to mid 20s/38), somewhat mutual pining & sexual tension, joel in a wifebeater and jorts, reader has hair, smacking joel's ass like god intended, degradation, sweaty!joel, musk kink, armpit kink!!!, coming untouched, joel calls reader 'kiddo', 2 spanks, m!masturbation [no use of y/n] word count: 2.1k a/n: in another life, i'd be sorry for this fic. in this life, i am not. as always, a shoutout to the effervescent @lovesickonmybed for moodboard curation + creating this au. love to @seventeenpins for taking a glimpse at this + inspiring me. ty esquire team.... hooooly shit. pls suspend your disbelief if you can't come untouched we're here for a good time not a realistic one. btw you're all pussies for chickening out of the pit fics you 'planned' to write after this esquire photo fell into our laps /j

You awake to a rattling crash on the other side of the wall that you share with your dad’s combination garage/man cave. With an exaggerated groan, you peel yourself out of your creased sheets. Maybe the raccoons that have been terrorizing your garbage cans have finally broken into the garage. You’re still in your pajamas — a low-cut tank top and some bloomers that are entirely too short on you — when you rub the sleep from your eyes and shove your feet into your slippers to investigate. 

The house is quieter than dust so early in the morning. Your dad’s out at work, and the rest of the neighborhood is just beginning to wake up. There’s the tstststststs of the Adler’s sprinkler system and the birds are chirping. In the mudroom, you snatch up a broom and wrap your fist around it. You listen through the paneling of the door for any hissing or scuttling, but hear nothing. You are not looking to get rabies today.

You poke your head out of the door, broom pointed at the ground like a staff. Immediately, you’re blinded by a slice of sunshine cutting through the very much open garage.

You’re about two seconds away from sprinting back inside to call 911 when you see the unkempt, sunkissed hair of none other than Joel Miller.

You set the broom gently back against the wall. Joel’s not a threat – at least not to anything but that traitor between your legs. He’s just your dad’s buddy; drinking buddy, fishing buddy, jack-of-all-trades buddy. He’s also no stranger to those borderline goo-goo eyes you give him. How could you not? He’s just so broad and muscled and God, you swear up and down that you stare more at his ass than anyone has ever stared at yours.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, he’ll even give you shit about it. Bending over directly in your line of sight at block parties, ‘play wrestling’ with you on the dock by the lake whenever you jokingly call him an old man, or, in one very special instant, giving your ass a smack that sent you into an hours long tizzy.

You deserve to give him shit about it, too.

After all, he’s the one ferreting around in your dad’s garage in the wee hours of the morning. You pad into the garage, footsteps muffled by your slippers as you navigate around your dad’s pickup. You catch a better look at Joel when you pass the truck bed. And, for better or for worse, he’s dressed like a slut.

His ribbed white wifebeater stretches over his wide chest, grass stains scattered along the small of his back. Sweat darkens the hems of his shirt under his armpits, glistening and beading on the back of his neck, too. In true dad fashion, he even has on jorts. He’s bent over your dad’s tool bench, thumbing around an assortment of screwdrivers. His denim-covered ass sticks out. A smile spreads across your face.

You slip around the truck and take soft step after soft step until you’re right behind him. You can’t help but notice a cocktail of his pheromones and B.O. surrounding him. He must’ve been outside for a while now with all of the stains he’s accumulated on his shirt already. You keep your breathing muted so he can’t hear you as you reach out and — smack!

Joel shrieks, shooting upright. His head slams into the shelf overhead and a few bolts go toppling onto the concrete below. He cusses like a sailor as his hand goes up to rub the back of his head, nursing where a lump will probably be in a few hours time. Joel whips around to see you, smothering your giggles behind your hand. “You little shit,” he huffs, still scratching at his head. You don’t miss how his cheeks are firetruck red. “The fuck are ya doin’?”

“Me? The fuck are you doing, Miller? Stomping around my dad’s garage at, like, the asscrack of dawn–”

“Nine in the mornin’ ain’t the asscrack of dawn, sweetcheeks,” Joel says. Then, he holds up a set of pliers. “Mower shit the bed. I’m thinkin’ Sarah stole my pliers to make necklaces, but she hasn’t fessed up yet. Your pops said I could borrow his.” He stretches, giving you a long whiff of his scent. The groan he lets out stirs something in your stomach, much to your chagrin.

“I think the mower is the least of your worries,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “You reek. Shower shit the bed, too?”

“You try doin’ yard work in 90 degree heat, kiddo. See how much you smell like that strawberry raspberry peach whatever-the-fuck soap you’re usin’.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised you don’t see the back of your skull. “Rosemary eucalyptus,” you correct under your breath.

“Hmm, what was that?” Joel asks, tossing the pliers down onto the workbench. “Gotta speak up.”

“Rosemary eucalyptus,” you say. “But I bet you wouldn’t know. What do you use? 18 in 1?”

Joel grunts. “Real funny.” He takes a step closer to you, lips taut with a smirk. “How ‘bout you find out?”

You don’t have time to question what the hell he means – he just cups the back of your head with one of his wide palms and shoves your face directly into his closest sweaty pit. “Mmmmph!” you protest, mouth sealed shut against the thatch of hair that’s spattered across his skin. You hold your breath for as long as you can, but eventually, you’re forced to suck in a breath through your squished nose. His musk, sweet and just as sharp, fills your airways. Your clit all but jerks between your legs in humiliation, drawing a whine out of your throat.

Joel chuckles, ruffling your hair. It’s enough to make your thighs clench. “You’re a little freak, huh?” He presses harder on the back of your head, so much so that you almost get a mouthful of his underarm.

“Youuu dick!” you try to say without opening your mouth too far. It comes out muffled against his sweat-pearled skin. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push him off of you.

Another wry chuckle comes from above. Joel bends his arm so that his elbow is wrapped around the back of your head, effectively trapping you in his funk. “Come on, huff ‘em. Practically fuckin’ asking for it earlier, all ‘a that mouthin’ off. So now you get a mouthful of my pits. Fair’s fair, kiddo.”

Embarrassment ribbons through your body, the kind that makes you leak into your panties against your will. Still looking for a way out, you squirm against his ironclad hold.

It’s only good for making him land a heavy-hitting slap across your ass. You yelp, a new wave of slick saturating the drenched gusset of your panties. You jump where you are, hips bucking into nothing – for escape or pressure, you’re not entirely sure. “Unless you wanna go over my knee instead?” Your face sears with humiliation.

Tentatively, you snuffle a bit against his pit, biting into your cheeks at his musk. It makes you cough a little bit – he’s been carrying the smell of cutting grass and his own sweat all morning.

“Yeah, thought so. But you can do better than that, sweetcheeks. I said huff, not fake an asthma attack.” You whimper, this time sucking in a longer breath. Here he is, holding you down, secure against his pit as you're left with no other option than to take what he gives you, when he gives it to you. All you can smell, feel, touch is just Joel, Joel, Joel. It makes you lightheaded.

Your clit is practically a kickdrum between your thighs, pulsing and doing more work than your head. You try to angle yourself so that you can rub your clit against Joel’s leg, but he puts a stop to that real quick. “Gettin’ all wound up just from being where ya belong, your pretty little face in my pit?” You mewl, reaching for Joel’s sides. You bunch your fists in the fabric of his wifebeater, and he allows it.

“Since you’re so eager to complain about it, how ‘bout you clean me up, huh?” He nudges his pit against your face again, and, confusedly, you furrow your brows. You can’t see much of him, but you do see the edge of his mouth tip up in satisfaction. “You got rocks for brains? Lick, kiddo.”

Hesitance drives the soft kitten lick of your tongue, swiping up and down across a very small portion of his pit. He loosens up on his grip on you, giving you the slightest bit more reign. You try to tell yourself that you’re scared of what he might do if you disappoint him, but hell if you don’t want this as much as he does, tongue, nose, face buried in his pits. Some sort of ultimate form of worship between the two of you.

You lave your tongue across his pit, eyes fluttering with each stroke. You swirl it in the crease of his arm, sucking his goddamn hairs clean with the fervor you’ve picked up. Enthused now, you bob your head up and down. Your clit responds, throbbing with a heartbeat of its own.

You’re panting, inhaling and exhaling him, lapping up his musk like a fucking dog, gone from reluctant to eager. Your clit twitches faster and faster, and you swear that arousal must be tacky on the insides of your thighs, leaking through your panties all over the front of your bloomers, but you can’t do anything about it. You can’t even grind against Joel – you can only slurp against his armpit, something like desperation having replaced all of your previous mortification from when he’d shoved you there in the first place.

You’re so preoccupied with pleasing him that you don’t even notice the thumping of your clit, picking up speed and pressure. Your body seizes in between your greedy little licks. You feel yourself weaken before you stiffen.

And maybe it’s the way Joel keeps groaning with each movement of your tongue. It could be how he exhales, “Kiddo,” in a raspy voice, both demeaning and endearing all at once. But in the end, it’s how he says, “Mmmm, such a good goddamn tongue. Bet it’d feel so good on my cock,” that breaks the dam between your legs.

You shudder, coming completely undone with little moans and whimpers in Joel’s arms without so much as a hand on your clit, just your face smothered in his pit. Drool runs down your lips and across your chin as you jerk and weaken in his grasp. If you weren’t so underwater, so far gone, you’d be able to hear him saying, “Fuck – whoa, whoa, whoa,” trying to stop you from falling on your ass in the middle of the garage. His hands card across your sides as he props you up against the workbench. Your vision blackens at the edges from the intensity of your orgasm, and you’re still coming, at least you think you are, when you blink yourself back to awareness. You’re wide-eyed, tears brimming at your waterline, incapacitated in a way that you didn’t know you could be.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you finally fully come to, slumped over the workbench, still half-clinging to Joel. “Fuck.”

Joel looks stunned, looking you up and down as if he can’t get enough of you. His eyes land right between your thighs, where, sure enough, you’ve ruined your bloomers. You still feel like deadweight, and you struggle to stand upright. You’re not sure you’ve ever come so hard even with someone’s hands all over your. Joel’s glistening with even more sweat, and it’s impossible to miss the glaring bulge in his shorts. He clears his throat after a minute. “Oughta go get cleaned up before your daddy gets back for his lunch break, kiddo.”

You stumble upright, drenched in sweat yourself now, Joel’s lingering scent still pervading every breath you take. “Y-yeah,” you manage, nodding. You feel out of your own body, stumbling towards the door. You’re so wet that you can feel it with every goddamn step. Fuck Joel Miller, cocky piece of sh–

You’re immediately returned to your own body by the resounding swat Joel lands on your ass. You jump, shooting a glare over your shoulder. He puts his hands up, pleading innocence.

You’re not surprised when you crawl out of your shower, smelling of rosemary eucalyptus and dripping water all over the floor, only to see Joel’s mower abandoned in the middle of his yard. Even worse, you aren’t surprised in the slightest when you squint through your bedroom window, Joel sprawled out across his bed, hips bucking in-time with his fist before catching your eye and spraying ropes of cum all over his abdomen.

You mouth at him through the window with a taunting little wink, Clean yourself up this time.

[bumblehoneybee]

Hi, I loved your poppy playtime oneshots and your writing is just magnificent. I saw that you're accepting ideas, so if you like and feel comfortable you could write how the group (Poppy, Kissy and our adorable boy Dogday) would react to Player being protective of them and ending up getting hurt in one of the smiling creatures' chases. Have a good night and thanks in advance.

Guardian Angel

Most of the miniature creatures had scuttled off into the unknown once Catnap fell. It left the Playcare far safer than before, enough so that Poppy and Kissy could come down from their hiding place and properly walk around with you and Dogday. A relief, being able to at least somewhat relax now, before the final fight to come.

You collapse onto your butt into one of the rickety chairs within Home Sweet Home. Dogday chuckles at your long, dramatic groan of exhaustion, resting his head in your lap with a sigh. You pat his head, pouting, but pleased with the outcome thus far. You've been doing a good job, you think. Not the best, but good, especially since you were able to save poor Dogday from becoming those mini critters' next meal.

A weight settles onto your shoulder. "Good idea! A break sounds just lovely."

You eye Poppy. "What are you taking a break from? Dogday and I are the only ones who've been running around!"

"It's exhausting to watch you run." Poppy teases back, Kissy nodding in agreement.

You just laugh, fingers raking through Dogday's matted fur. You'll need to try and find a shower for everyone, one with actual running water and maybe some soap. It'd be nice to clean up all the grime you four have been dragging all around. Maybe Home Sweet Home had one?

Before you can voice such a thought, Kissy begins to growl. Your head snaps up, Dogday's too. Poppy grips your head as you stand, staring at Kissy, who faces a nearby hole in the wall with bared teeth and swiping arms.

"Kissy?" Poppy asks. You swiftly pluck the doll up, handing her to Dogday before either could react. "Wha- Angel-!"

You dive forward, snatching the Bubba critter before it could fully lunge at Kissy's next swipe. You throw it off down the hall before it can do any damage to you, then make frantic motions to the others.

"Let's go!"

They don't argue. Kissy takes Poppy back from Dogday, while you haul your buddy up onto your back again. It's a quick sprint down the maze-like halls, one followed by rumbling and distinct screeches of hunger, of anger.

You briefly wonder if the critters hate you for destroy the one that brought them food.

Whoops.

Before you can lament your luck, Dogday shouts. Pink fur fills your vision, knocking you back a few steps. You nearly fall, but Dogday braces on the wall and helps you regain balance. You see Kissy's head frantically swiveling, and peer past her to where a pile, or maybe more of a wall of broken boards and fallen concrete blocks the way forward.

"Shit." You say, twisting to see bright white eyes encroaching on your team. "Fuck."

"Language." Dogday says, half distracted, not that you acknowledge it.

You gaze back towards the wall, see a sliver of space at the very top, easy enough to squeeze through.

"Kissy!" You point, and she gets the idea immediate.

Limber and flexible, she climbs up the boards and metal rebars, easily sliding through the hole. She reaches down, Poppy hiding behind her neck, and grabs Dogday by the scruff to haul him up next. His head is a bit too big, sadly, so with panic, the toys begin to struggle.

"Angel!" Dogday calls down to you.

"Just stay calm!" You call back, facing the approaching sea of ravenous critters. The flare gun hand cocks, loaded and ready. "And be careful! I'll hold them off!"

With that, you charge into the fray, if only to buy more time.

"ANGEL!" Dogday hollers after you. It rips through his vocal chords, rips through his soul, watching you disappear into the darkness peppered with hungry white eyes. "Kissy! Let me go!"

"Why!?" Poppy asks, her and Kissy's view blocked by Dogday. "We need to get you through so Angel-"

"Angel just ran off!" Dogday snaps, squirming. He pushes and pulls at the boards beneath him, knocking them loose as he tries to drag himself back down. Kissy's tug makes his head slam into the broken ceiling, and he hisses. "They need help! Let me go!"

crack

Everyone freezes.

You fire a flare into Kickin's face, twisting around in time to watch Dogday fall backwards, the ceiling falling right after him.

"GUYS!?" You scream, panic firing through your veins like ice water. You twist, try to run towards the new mountain of debris now completely blocking the way forward, but a Crafty digs its teeth into your leg. "FUCK!"

Your flare gun clicks, out of ammo for now. Looks like you'll have to get old school if you want to get out of this.

On the other side of the mountain, Dogday claws at the debris, howling your name to the heavens as though it will bring you to him. Kissy smacks at the higher boards, tugging at the rock and plaster, but to no avail. It was all well and truly stuck and snug.

Poppy, sitting just a few feet away, places her face in her hands. Their angel. . . alone on the other side, left behind because they were trying to buy time for them to escape. And they did escape, without Angel.

Angel, fighting for their life all alone.

Poppy gasps for air, fighting tears.

"We. . . we need to f-find another way around." She says, voice wavering.

Kissy looks back at her, panting, then down to where Dogday doesn't stop, still digging into the debris best he can with his paws. With a shaky sigh, Kissy leans down, hauling Dogday off the floor despite his growls and barks of protest.

Poppy leads the way further into Home Sweet Home, building speed with each step. Angel has saved them. Now it's their turn to save their angel.

[themeraldee]

SO WHAT IF: homelander got with a Female SO who is a screamer in bed. Not because it hurts but it feels sooo good. Better if she’s a quiet, timid employee at vought he finds endearing.

(He is so interesting. I can see him with strong women as seen in the show, but he would also like a submissive thing that fawns over him. He’s so versatile with ships!)

yessss yesssssssss

the semi-public sex would go HARD.

Also I'd love to see Homelander discover this. Such a difference to when they're just being cute and lovely or interacting at work. Here's her screaming his praises. Even though timid, she'd be making sure he knows how good it feels. Having had partners before who either found her vocal cries either disturbing or annoying, she wants to make sure he knows she's feeling good. All thanks to him.

Also at first she's super quiet and holds back, not wanting to be too much and freak him out. Until he forces it out of her one way or another...

lil 18+ snippet below cut

He knows you've always been reluctant to move your bedroom activities to other, more risky, places. Yet the thought of getting everyone to hear you get the life fucked out of you sounded too good to pass on.

"You gotta keep quiet for me sweetheart. Or everyone out there is gonna hear you sing for me." Except he has you on your back on your office desk, bent in half, knees next to your chest as he's stuffing you full of his cock. The squelching noise your bodies make on each slide is deafening enough without your screams and moans getting in the way.

Before he buried himself in you, he's spent good time getting you ready, feasting on your cunt until you were sopping wet and ready to take him the way you always want to. Full throttle without stopping.

And with each thrust you get louder and louder. You mumble just how good, ahh ahh, s'good it feels. How good he feels. It's barely coherent but Homelander licks up every word of praise from your lips.

Now that he's learned how to get you to let go he doesn't hesitate to abuse the sensitive spot inside you with short snappy thrusts until you sing for him freely.

Although there's no debating whether or not your moans are easily heard from the hallway, the answer comes swiftly anyway.

Someone knocks on the door. "Uhmm, is everything okay? I've come to bring you the paperwork you asked for." One of your co-workers sounds from the other side of the door.

Homelander takes pleasure in knowing it's the off-putting man he's seen attempt to flirt with you. Yes, let him hear. Let him hear how nobody could ever make you scream this way. Nobody but Homelander.

He gives you a head tilt that says 'see?' and he clamps his hand over your mouth while he rams you even harder. The wooden desk legs squeak horribly against the floor as the desk moves forward with every snap of his hips.

Still, Homelander puts good effort into keeping his voice stable. "Buddy, now's really not the time. Leave it till tomorrow."

"B-b-but." Even though the man is usually oblivious to Homelander's presence anytime he oversees his inappropriate behaviour, at least now he understands there's more at stake.

"Leave." His eyes power up automatically with his tone and while the disaster of a man can't see him, the shift in atmosphere is palpable.

At least from his perspective. Homelander's still fucking your brains out and you're barely aware of the situation. It feels too good to give up on the haze of pleasure lighting up your nerves and force yourself to face the real world where there's embarrassment that comes with nearly getting caught.

He watches the guy scuttle off at his menacing tone.

Finally, Homelander returns his attention back fully to you.

"Look how much attention you're attracting." He lets himself get back in the moment. His voice wavers when you squeeze around him.

"What's that, hah you want more?" He grips onto the desk, letting his pent up energy go into splintering the wood and not the fragile bones of your pelvis.

"Bet they'd all love to see what you're screaming for huh? Maybe I should let them. Let them know I'm the only fucking one to get you singing like this. Fffuck, yeah that's it. Feel so fucking good baby..." With his hand wedged in between your bodies he strokes your clit into completion.

Your screams are muffled by the leather of Homelander's glove and you let yourself scream your heart out as your cunt finally pulses around him with orgasm. The desk finally gives in and breaks when he spills inside you.

He puts all the force he wants to squeeze you with into destroying the office furniture. Because at the end of the day you're the irreplaceable one.

[lair-of-the-white-worm]

Mudokon lore factoids that are, unfortunately, forgotten/ignored a lot

While they are evolved from bird-like creatures, they themselves are in fact more lizard like.

Mudokons natural diet in native tribes consists of fruit, insects, and fish.

Processed meat is not part of a Mudokons natural diet, so the labourers in factories usually develop health problems from a lack of nutrition.

Mudokons call each other "mud", it's not unlike how we would call a friend "man" or "bro". Like, "Hey, mud! What's up!"

Mudokons have very small teeth compared to their mouthes. Their teeth are blunt as they are mostly herbivores.

They self-lubricate through their skin. This is how Abe's stitches keep from going dry.

Mudokons are like chameleons, and their skin will tint other colours depending on their mood. Yellow = Very Happy, Blue = Very Sad. Red = Very Mad. Green = Very Uncomfortable/Sick.

Also like lizards, Mudokons hands and feet are evolved to help them be able to scuttle and climb flat surfaces like walls. We see Abe and his buddies do this, as well as the Keeper.

In concept art, Mudokons had retractable frog-like tongues!

Mudokon nostrils are on their foreheads.

[hotvintagepoll]

Buddy Hackett (The Love Bug, The Music Man)—i like a guy who can sing a funny little song called 'shipoopi' and act like that is normal (music man fans rise up)

Louis de Funès (Hibernatus, La Grande Vadrouille)—He is THE French scrungly icon, everyone knows him and either loves him for his scrungliness or fucking hates it and there's no in between. He is The Scrungly. He is Little. He is amazing. His facial expressions, his little noises, his everything - he's freaking hilarious. Also he's not afraid to crossdress in his movies and he looks fucking AMAZING in drag just saying Old men fuckers, this is your call 💪

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Buddy Hackett

Other than playing Harold Hill’s best pal in The Music Man, he also voiced Scuttle the seagull in The Little Mermaid :)

Louis de Funès:

He is a small old comedy man, what else can I say? My mom loves him and even was disappointed that such a charismatic man wasn't in the hot contest.

Well... Look at him! He started as a jazz pianist, but he became super famous for his roles of angry little guys, or grumpy little guys, or very, very fractious little guys. A comedy, and in particular physical comedy, legend! And in all of them, he is scowling, contorting himself, seething, spitting words and incoherent with rage, making the funniest faces and noises and... he's like a very, very angry wet cat. Angry Wet Cat is, in fact, the best description I can come up with!!!! He was #ScrungleLifestyle #BornScrungly #Scrungle4Life

[editor's note: I don't speak French so let me know if anything in these clips is offensive. The first two clips are mostly physical comedy and a good introduction to Louis de Funès' physical humor.]

he is so silly!!!! little old man with crazy energy and facial expressions like you wouldn't believe!! the scrungliest!! he makes the most insane characters seem lovable due to his comedian skill and his scrungly quality :D my favorite actor of all times