#FINALLY????

[xbuster]

WHAT??? WHEN

[ride-thedragon]

Team Green, team Black discourse aside, who's this pretty girl?

[aurorawest]

Title: The General Mess and Imprecision of Feeling Author: @aurorawest​​ Rating: M (language, violence, sexual content) Relationships: Loki/Stephen Strange, Loki & Thor, Jane Foster & Loki, Jane Foster/Thor Major Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count (so far): 150.6k Summary: Loki knows his feelings for Stephen Strange are a capital B-Bad Idea. Whatever character growth he’s struggled through hasn’t changed the fact that he’s uniquely incapable of making another person that kind of happy for more than a night.

When a powerful Asgardian artifact goes missing, Loki and Stephen must team up to track it down—especially once it becomes clear that the theft is part of a larger, insidious plot.

Can Loki tie together the loose threads of his life: the threat to New Asgard, his friendship with Stephen, and the feelings he can’t stop no matter how hard he fights, and write himself a happy ending?

Thank you to my betas, @mareebird​​​​​​​​​​​​ and AsgardianHarmony!

Chapter 40, You Come to Me Wild and Wired, is posted!

Stephen’s hair fluttered in the breeze as he stood at the base of the cliff, his expression…not quite open, not quite closed. Waiting. Hesitant. Unsure. “Hey,” Stephen said. His hands shook at his sides and he pressed them against his jeans. Loki stared. “Hi,” he finally replied. His heart pounded. Stephen looked around, then said, sounding apologetic, “Your brother said I would probably find you here.” A wild laugh threatened to bubble from Loki’s throat. “And people think I betray him,” he managed to get out, almost normally.

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[lesboficfanatic]

Arthur; *is slowly losing his mind after enduring the horrors and struggling with yellow in John’s absence*

John finally back; what the fuck?

[heartbreakincident]

nothing but respect for our troops (smut writers) but listen. i dont want to be the person to tell you this, but not every character is going to be a dom or a sub. some people. and i know this is hard to hear. but some people do have vanilla sex. and some of those people might even be The Character.

[sexypeople-contests-2025]

[clar-a-m]

Sometimes she just wants to wear her own comfy clothes

Bonus:

[cutetanuki-chan]

hits them with a poly beam

[sticksandsharks]

grey wagtail

character from The Wildercourt, the graphic novel I'm very slowly but very persistently working on

[draconym]

My favorite grocery store cashier died a few months ago. I know this probably sounds like a bizarre thing to be sad about. Her name was Judith and I only saw her once or twice a week, and only while I was paying for groceries. But even now, months later, I think of her when I'm at the grocery store. She used to save the ends of receipt paper rolls when they only had a foot or two left on them and give them to me, which I never asked her to do, but the first time she did it she held one out to me and said "you look like someone who would make a craft out of this," and I laughed because she was right. I do save them to put in geocaches and letterboxes. Our small talk was about the weather and the weekend and aren't those cookies good? They're so expensive though. But it's worth it.

I'm just saying. If you ever sit around wondering whether you'd be missed if you disappeared off the face of the earth, the answer is probably yes, very much, and probably by more people than you think.

[hellspawnmotel]

was joking with a friend about the spamtenna baby being one of those fucked up cats noelle keeps spawning and then it was suddenly not a joke

[phenixfarts]

A very quick Huntrix doodle bc this was so fitting for them Original meme from HL0428 on twitter

[xiaq]

Absolutely wild to me how sometimes you don't even realize the way you'd been taught to perceive things as a kid was kinda fucked up, actually, until decades later.

Example:

As a kid, I constantly lived in fear of damaging shit in my parent's house. The walls. The floors (especially the floors. The wood was beautiful. Shiny. But so easy to scratch). The cabinets.

As a sixteen-year-old, I once took my car to the dealership after work and paid a very dear sum of $250 ($10/hr cashier salary) to fix a slight scratch in the paint because I knew if my father saw it there would be hell to pay. It didn't matter that I parked far out, like I'd been taught, and someone scratched it anyway. It was my fault. I failed in my duties as a steward of my vehicle.

Every time I scratched a rim on a curb while parallel parking or got a door ding or, god forbid, didn't wash and vacuum that car every weekend, it was treated like some sort of moral failing.

Last year, when my husband and I first moved into our house, he scraped the side of our car when parking in our (Very Narrow) garage. When he told me, my first instinct was to be afraid for him. Like something terrible was going to happen to him because of this mistake. I urgently reassured him that it was okay, it was an accident, I wasn't mad. Baffled, he was like, "Yeah? I know? Like, thank you for the reassurance, but I'm only a little annoyed, I'm not upset. It's just a car." And I had to take several minutes to process that. It's...just a car.

We keep the car tidy. We maintain it. But we wash it maybe 4x a year. We only vacuum it after dirty road trips or when the dog hair starts to get annoying. It has scrapes and dings and the leather seats have stains. But that's ok. Because it's just a car.

This morning, I realized that a small rock had gotten embedded in the felt foot on one of our bar stools. Neither of us had noticed. There are now scratches on our beautiful hardwood floor. My immediate response was fear accompanied by a heavy measure of paralyzing guilt. "I'm so sorry," I told my husband, "I should have noticed. I'll figure out how to fix it, I swear. I can probably sand down that section and match the stain and--"

"Whoa, hey," he said. "It was an accident. And it's fine. Floors are going to get damaged. They're floors. We live here. There was damage in places before we even bought the house, remember? It's not a big deal. It's just a floor." Right. It's just a floor. Right.

My husband's mom is visiting and this afternoon, as I was sitting in the kitchen looking at the scratches on the floor, I offhandedly asked her if my husband had ever broken or damaged anything as a kid. "Of course," she said. Household items. A TV. A wrecked car during his teen years. I asked how she punished him.

"Why would I punish him for things like that?" she said. "They were all accidents."

Right. Of course. Right.

[izbnart]

Left-handed Ena Dream BBQ fan animation yayyy

[decamarks]

Guy in front of me has spent the past hour creating our professor in Monster Hunter Wilds