#I like that last line

[michaels-office-hours]

Ok… brainrot… but….

Yor in a wedding dress…. But because it’s her wedding she’s worried it’ll be attacked.

And also Yor is very traditional, in some traditions (I actually genuinely don’t know which… probably Christianity????) The white dress means purity.

Yor has a hard time believing she’s pure, or good. So she wouldn’t think she deserves the white dress. And add on her worrying about an attack? She’d much prefer a black dress like she usually wears.

I think Loid would except it on the wedding day…. But if he was allowed to pick outfits for the honeymoon? (Let’s be honest he always is dressing up his ladies in the best of the best. It’s his favorite pastime aside from staring at them lovingly) He would probably find all kinds of white, or pastel color things for Yor to wear. Probably two or three dresses even.

And I can only imagine the conversation.

Yor: LOID! Not another dress!

Loid: It was on clearance. Don’t worry. (And this is all on Wise’s check)

Yor: You got so many new clothes… they’re so lovely, but I’ll never be able to wear them all. (They’re all so light. They’d show so many stains… I could never wash them out)

Loid: Well, you can trade wearing your favorites like you do at home. And then when we get home, you might add some to your favorites. *smile spreads across his face*

Yor: *can’t say no when he smiles at her, so hangs her head and concedes*

Yor: I’ll go make coffee.

Loid: Not before you pick out one of the new sweaters I got you to try on!

Yor: Loid I- *sigh*

Yor: *selects a light blue one, pastel robin’s egg, then turns to leave*

Yor: You spoil me too much

Loid: *only smiles that infuriating smile*

Later they’re sitting on the couch of the hotel they’ve rented talking and sipping the still warm coffee

Yor: And then Anya said she would protect me from all the aliens and in the world, if they ever tried to steal my cabbages.

Loid: *laughs and wipes a tear from his eye*

Loid: That sounds like out Anya alright.

Yor: *warmth fills her chest as she hears his laugh. She wants to hear it more. And forever.*

Yor: She raised her arms up like this too and then- OH NO THE COFFEE!!

Loid: *rushes over in an instant and catches the cup and saucer before it can fall to pieces, but the same can’t be said for Yor*

Loid: Yor! Are you ok?! I’ll get towels, but it didn’t burn you right?

Yor: *quietly crying, shakes her head*

Loid: *comes back with the towels and does what he can*

Loid: I think it’s ok Yor, this couch is leather so it won’t be stained. We won’t have to pay any fees or- are you sure you’re ok?!

Yor: *starts sobbing loudly*

Loid: Yor?!

Yor: You got me so many pretty things, and I can’t even keep them nice around the house!

Loid: I- What?!

Yor: *looks down at her sweater and the brown stain seeping through it and cries harder*

Yor: You deserve someone who won’t make messes. I can’t clean all these up! I can’t fix this! Oh Loid! Why on earth did you have to be stuck with me!

Loid: *takes her head in his hands*

Loid: Hey, hey, Yor. Listen to me. Breathe. It’s ok. You’re going to be ok. I’m not mad. Nothing is wrong. Just breathe in and out. Like this. 1..2..3..4..1..2..3..4.. there’s my girl, there you go. It’s ok.

Loid: *as he gently strokes her hair until her hiccups calm enough for them to talk, Loid assesses the damage*

Yor faintly: I’m so sorry, L-

Loid: Don’t be.

Yor: *bottom lip quivering anew*

Loid: *turns her head up to look at him directly. And kisses her*

Loid: There is no other woman I would have. Period.

Yor: *stares astonishedly*

Loid: You work so hard to clean, and cook, and provide for Anya and myself. You are allowed to fall short, or have skills you need help with. Or frankly… to be human.

Yor: *blinks*

Loid: I wasn’t going to expect you to clean this up. At least not without help. And yes I knew the light clothes would stain and it would be hard to get that out. I still think you look good on them, and deserve to let yourself feel pretty.

Yor: But… it’s new, Loid.

Yor: *tearing up with the weight of everything*

Yor: It’s brand new, and you have it to me, and now it’s stained.

Loid: Yes. So now it’s yours.

Yor: What?

Loid: Every new thing wears down eventually. Everything in peak condition will eventually have a couple bumps and ruts. If you were the one that put them there, you know how to work around them, or might find them to add beauty to a plain sweater.

Yor: *giggles despite herself*

Yor: How can coffee stains make something prettier?

Loid: Human brains tend to find patterns, so it will link memories to images. You were telling me about a memory with Anya, we were spending time, we are now. All of those are now linked to that stain when we see it.

Yor: And also me crying…

Loid: … ok and that. But focus on the positives.

Yor: *snickers*

Loid: And you don’t have to keep it if you don’t want it. I can always go get a new one for you.

Yor: … Loid?

Loid: Yes?

Yor: All that stuff, you said about leaving marks? You were talking about us… weren’t you. Leaving marks on each other’s lives.

Loid: …

Yor: *cuddles into his chest*

Yor: Anya made a mark too, didn’t she?

Loid: I would rather die, than not have your love stains on my heart.

OH MY WORD WHEN DID I WRITE THIS I LOOKED UP AND ITS BEEN LIKE 30 MINUTES WHAT!?! Ahem….

Idk if this is pre or post reveal. Honestly I think you could tweak this whichever way you wanted hehe. But uhhhh. Yeah. (Btw no I’m not still salty the only good line from Cars two was that one about dents what gave you that idea >:P)

[nero-draco]

[beif0ngs]

alright look, i just wanna know who is the writer that came up with the dumbass idea of replacing the line “Ever since I lost my son, I think of you as my own” with “Lu Ten would have been proud to have you as his father” in this scene for the Netflix live action series???

[thepunkmuppet]

my girl celia really said have you ever heard of this one show it’s called the magnus archives and it’s a podcast distributed by rusty quill and licensed under a creative commo-

[novaneondream]

@candle-scm you did this to me

[becca-e-barnes]

Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

[alphabetcompletionist]

you lack any and all value. You are an extremely annoying blogger that contributes zero actual worth to the website. Why don't you just quit. Pick up a stick and beat yourself with it.

👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

26/26

[softinvasions]

DIRECTOR'S NOTE • Nov. 2023

You can't go home. This play has a particular care for and interest in its victims. The resident

inciting event is endless. tragedy is much more concerned with footnotes than it is with gods.

well acquainted with what happens afterward, storytellers claim they can't diverge from what's

written: resist. rage against what must be. tell a story about war without talking

about love. survive its aftermath. fail to find resolution. make this suffering

a home. There's no breaking this chain— fate, as always, gets its way.

Poetry assembled from the program of an Oresteia production. Nov. 2023.

[verflares]

i thought i felt your shape, but i was wrong. really all i felt was falsely strong, i held on tight and closed my eyes. it was dumb, i had no sense of your size. it was dumb to hold so tight.

[junotter]

My redesigns for aged up gaang

[uncanny-tranny]

Once you stop thinking about queer people's labels as strict indications of what's in their pants and who they do/don't bed and instead view queer people's labels as how they interact with the world, you'll find that you'll get along with queer people better and treat them better, I think.

[assface-berlioz]

with the way this is going bungou stray dogs will conclude in 2080 at seventy years old when everyone wins against the interplanetary alien Homer with the power of gay sex and friendship. and I'll still be reading it. and I will still make stupid theories. I will follow this series to the ends of the earth

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for setting traps for a family friend's pet?

I'm an inventor/electronic engineer by trade, and my inventions are very expensive and usually somewhat fragile, but a friend of my daughter's has a pet that keeps getting into my apartment and damaging them (knocking them over, knocking stuff onto them, pushing buttons to cause malfunctions, etc.) It's really hurting my livelihood.

So, I decided to set traps for it. Just non-lethal stuff — no poison or anything like that, mostly just various boxes and cages to keep it away from my inventions. But my daughter doesn't seem to approve.

AITA?

(Context: I'm 47M. Pet is platypus, 6)

What are these acronyms?

[expelliarmus]

[vebokki]

sacrifice