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#fucking stick to your branding
thefloatingstone · 5 months
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If you start a tv channel or an online streaming service with the entire identity being "retro content" I think it should be illegal for you to then decide later to start showing newer shows and the audience should be allowed to sue you for monetary compensation.
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I know hello future me is like. THE guy who talks about avatar the last airbender in all of his videos. But did he really have to do it like that in the one about the japanese human experimentation death camps? Its part of his central thesis about how japanese war crimes arent in the cultural memory like german ones are but. It should have been like. An example at the very end. Not the first thing he talks about right after the intro.
Like call me a prude but i think talking about how the fire nation is inspired by imperial japan between clips of graphic descriptions and heartwrenching witness testimonies of japans crimes against humanity is uhhhhhhhhh bad taste!
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macadam · 11 months
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I'm always happy to see you on my dash so I hope you have a safe time and take care till September when we hear from you again!!
Aw shucks thank you anon :]
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squidyyy23 · 2 years
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for his honey 🍯
ian’s impressed when his husband’s business savvy helps them expand their farm. and he's going to make sure he knows it.
we all know @gallawitchxx is the queen bee of the birthday trope mashup ficlets. but what about her birthday prompt: alternate universe with characters who work together? so here you go, babe. a little something for your bee-day 🐝
rating: [be]e (<- "i was hoping for something a bit spicer". challenge accepted. 🌶) word count: 3.5k
and shoutout to sara @shameless-notashamed for the brilliant beta brain
read below the cut or on ao3 🍯🐝
Mickey’s phone vibrates in his pocket. It takes a moment for him to register the feeling against his leg out here surrounded by the familiar white noise of his bees buzzing away in their hives. He slides the frame back into the box, quickly removes his gloves, sets them beside his well-used smoker, and answers the call.
“He signed the contract!” an excited woman squeals through the speaker. He winces, holding the phone farther away from his ear. “I’ll swing by with a copy for you two to sign tomorrow.”
Mickey’s beaming when he hangs up. Victorious.
“Who was that?” Ian brushes the dirt off his hands and wanders over from where he’d been working in his garden.
It’s curiosity only, an interest in his husband’s life. Not an ounce of distrust or jealousy. They’d long gotten over all that shit. Solid for over a decade.
“Realtor,” Mickey answers.
“Realtor?” Ian repeats, confused.
“We got it.” Mickey doesn’t bother to hide his accomplished smile. Hell of a fight, but he did it.
“We got what?” Ian still hasn’t caught on.
“It. The land. The expansion.”
“Wait, what? I thought—” Mickey watches the realization wash over him. “How?”
“I have my ways.” Mickey smirks.
“‘Course you do.” Ian’s body language softens, excitement morphing into something else. Something notably hotter than even the warm summer air. “You always make shit happen.”
Damn straight he does.
Mickey looks around at all they’ve built. Their respectable plot of land. The couple acres of bee farm. The sizable garden they cleared last year for Ian’s crops. The small country store by the road where they sell their local, organic honey—and more recently, Ian’s produce and quickly-becoming-famous jarred tomato sauce—to tourists passing through on their way to their fancy-ass vacation homes in the mountains. A huge step up from the booth they used to lug around to every farmer’s market in a hundred-mile radius.
Ever since Ian followed his gardening passions to grow their business, he’s been whining about not having enough space to grow all the shit he wants. Nerdy ass motherfucker has all dozen of his beds mapped out in a goddamn spreadsheet trying to squeeze in as many things as possible.
They’d talked about trying to purchase the empty lot behind theirs. Called up a realtor. Paid a fucking appraiser to come out and give them an estimate of the land’s value. Sat down one very long night with the books and crunched the numbers. It was doable. 
Only stumbling block was the prick who currently owned it. Some old, rich, white, republican asshole whose family bought up half the town generations ago. Jackass in a suit with zero intention of ever using the land for anything other than stroking his own ego. 
So they made him an offer in line with said ego. Too generous if you asked Mickey, but Ian was so eager to make it happen that Mickey’d agreed. The response came back the very same day. No. Dickwad had refused to even consider it.
Ian wrote it off as a lost cause and sulked around for a week. But Mickey didn’t plan on letting it go that easily. If this guy thought he could bully them around just because he had a half-decent education and a pile of daddy’s money, he had another thing coming. 
Kind of shit Terry would have pulled if he’d had the power. The thought only pissed Mickey off and made him want to fuck the guy over even more. His fist-fighting days might be over, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still up for a good challenge. Don’t fuck with a man’s honey.
“Can’t believe you kept going after him.” Ian steps into Mickey’s space. Drapes his arms over his shoulders. “Thought we’d given up.” A familiar fire burns in his eyes.
Mickey looks up into Ian’s heated gaze. “My husband’s got eight hundred varieties of tomatoes to grow. Think I’m gonna let some jackass stand in the way of that?” He grins, a mischievous thing, knowing damn well what these kinds of things do to Ian.
In an instant, Ian’s lips are on his, his tongue slipping through Mickey’s smile. 
God, he fucking loves this man. All these years and it never gets old. Still that same rush. That same fluttering in his gut.
Ian’s arms slide down and wrap around Mickey’s back, those huge hands spread possessively across his rib cage. Mickey lets his hands fall from Ian’s waist to his hips where he slips his thumbs into the band of his dirty jeans and tugs. Not enough to pull them off, but enough to convey the message.
Hands drop to Mickey’s hips, pulling them forward and holding him steady as Ian grinds their already half-hard dicks together. Mickey swallows down the low moan breathed into his mouth before Ian pulls back, stepping away in his best effort to restrain himself.
“Not here,” Ian says.
“Jesus Christ. This again?” Mickey complains, wiping sweat from his brow, a combination of heat and arousal.
“I just can’t,” Ian whines. “The endless buzzing. Thousands of tiny eyes. Watching.” He makes a show of visibly shuddering at the thought.
“They’re bees. They aren’t fucking watching. Pretty sure they don’t give a shit to see us bang.”
“What if one stings your dick?”
“Seriously?” Mickey grouches. “Used to fuck behind the hives at the school almost every day. Never used to complain then.” But Mickey starts gathering his bee-keeping supplies into his toolbox anyway.
“Actually, yes. Yes, I did, but I put up with it ‘cause it was the only spot your dad would never come near.” Ian helps him pack up his tools.
There really was something funny about the fact that Terry—the big, tough, drug-running, child-abusing piece of shit—was terrified of some tiny, fuzzy insects. Maybe that’s part of what drew Mickey to bee-keeping. A quiet way to piss on his father.
Mickey hadn’t even known what apiculture was when he’d signed up for the high school’s agriculture program as his junior year elective. But it sounded like an easy class, and maybe he’d pick up some tips to up production from his weed plants. And of course Ian was there, damn hippie with a provider complex, eager to learn how to feed his whole family from a handful of seeds. 
Ended up being the only period Mickey never skipped. Surprisingly, some of the material still managed to sink in even if he did spend every class staring at silky red hair. 
They rush back to the store in record time, teasing each other the whole way. Mickey grabs at Ian’s dick, tickling his balls through his jeans. Ian slaps his ass when Mickey turns to run, a seductive waggle to his strut. Flirty and fun, always bringing out that youthful energy in each other.
Finally, they reach the back door, slamming it open as they bumble their way inside, practically tripping over each other on their quest to get behind the locking door of their office. But of fucking course, the bell chimes, and in walks an elderly couple, probably retired, traveling through in that giant-ass RV Mickey can see through the front windows.
And Mickey’s about to get real bitchy with these cockblocking customers, already sucking in a breath ready to blow, when Ian’s hand lands on his chest. Cool it, tiger. Can’t be scaring off the money makers.
Mickey lets it out, restrains himself just enough, tapping his foot while Ian goes off to greet the couple. He watches Ian show them around the store, offering samples of their most popular varieties of honey. 
It’s a small shop, but it’s nice. Theirs. Mickey ain’t ashamed to admit he’s proud of it.
After what seems like hours to Mickey’s impatiently pulsing dick, Ian finally rings them up. Managed to sweet talk them into three bottles of honey, a jar of his precious tomato sauce, and even one of Franny’s handmade bracelets on display by the register. Mickey’s always impressed by his husband’s salesman skills, but Jesus fuck, can he not be so fucking nice to everyone all the damn time?
Ian flips the sign on the door to “closed”. His eyes land on Mickey, fucking him up and down from across the room. Mickey’s ass clenches in anticipation. Then the tension snaps, the both of them darting toward the office in the same instant.
Mickey makes it there first. By the time he turns around, Ian’s locking the door behind them, shirt already stripped off somewhere along the way. Fucker really hates shirts.
Before Mickey can blink, Ian’s got him shoved up against the wall, his body pinning him hard against the old wood paneling. He smells like dirt and sun and tomato leaves. Up this close, Mickey can see the pollen dusting across his nose, hiding amongst the freckles.
“Now tell me,” Ian growls into the crook of Mickey’s neck, breath hot against his skin, “how you broke that bastard into selling you the land.” Mickey tilts his head back, exposing more flesh to Ian’s busy lips. “Into giving you what you wanted.”
“Told him— fuck.” Ian pulls the collar of Mickey’s shirt open with his teeth, revealing even more skin to be ravaged.
“Tell me,” Ian chides.
Mickey sucks in a shaky breath. “Told him if he didn’t hand over the land, the ABF, USDA, and EPA would be up his ass ‘bout fucking with an endangered species’ natural habitat. Went after the fuckers money. ‘Course he folded.”
Mickey leaves out the part about slipping his brother some cash to “look into the guy” just in case the legal threats didn’t pan out. But if he never had to use the blackmail, Ian didn’t need to know.
“Money’s all that prick’s got in his life.” Mickey hisses as Ian grinds their hips together at just the right angle. “Doesn’t have a hunk of a husband like I do.”
Ian smiles at him like Mickey just came home with the winning lottery ticket. 
“Fuck, I married the sexiest man on the planet.”
Ian reaches under Mickey’s ass and lifts his feet off the floor. Mickey circles his arms around his neck, holding on as their mouths crash together. Knocking teeth. Bruised and bitten lips.
Then Ian’s moving. Stumbling backward. Mickey’s too lost in their fervid kisses to pay much mind, trusting completely in his husband. At Ian’s mercy, always.
The back of his legs hit the edge of the desk, and Ian sets him down. The perfect height to line their mouths up just right. 
Mickey’s hands work their way into Ian’s hair, tugging at the strands and scratching at his scalp. Ian clasps Mickey’s cheeks, his thumbs rubbing soft circles along his jawline, a stark contrast to the way he sucks Mickey’s lips between his teeth and pinches.
They’re both panting when they finally part for air. Ian’s fingers frantically unfasten Mickey’s jeans. Mickey uses his arms wrapped around Ian’s neck to pull him up enough for Ian to slide them off, exposing his bare ass to the polished wood. 
He hears seams popping when Ian yanks Mickey’s shirt over his head. Ian wraps him in his strong arms and moans when their naked chests press together.
“You showed that asshole who’s boss,” Ian says, stepping back and stripping out of his own pants. “Now let me show yours.”
He rounds the desk. In one fluid movement, he swipes everything on its surface to the ground. Pens scatter, papers go flying, but it’s just a mess. They learned long ago not to keep anything fragile on there.
The handle nearly tears off the drawer Ian pulls it open with such force. He grabs the bottle of office lube and slams it on the cleared surface.
He stalks back in front of Mickey. Grabs his chin for one quick but all-consuming kiss before turning him around by the shoulder. A rough shove to Mickey’s upper back and he’s bent over the desk. His exposed asshole clenched, waiting. 
“Fuck,” Ian whispers behind him. Raspy. Reverent. Fingertips trail down his spine. “Gorgeous like this. Still can’t believe I get to have this.”
A swift palm to Mickey’s left cheek has him gasping in surprise. He melts further into the desk, surrendering to the sweet, sweet sting on his skin. 
So that’s how this is going to go. Mickey closes his eyes and curls his bottom lip between his teeth. He mentally runs through the possibility of buying up all the neighboring land if this is the reward.
Ian must have lubed up while Mickey was lost in his thoughts because suddenly he’s being filled, Ian crooking his finger into that perfect spot right off the bat. 
“Ah, fuck. Holy fuck,” Mickey moans, burying his face in his arms. 
His back arches into the pressure, his legs already starting to shake. From one finger. Fuck, his husband owns him. 
One finger quickly turns into two, Ian scissoring them open for that achingly good stretch. He folds himself over Mickey’s body, planting soft kisses on the still-warm flesh of Mickey’s slapped cheek, Ian’s lips buzzing against skin when he moans into it.
He’ll never get over the sounds of his husband getting off to Mickey’s pleasure. From Mickey just being. Just submitting. Riles Ian up just as much as having his dick in Mickey’s mouth. 
Then he adds a third finger to the mix. Fucks them into him good and hard while his other hand snakes around to stroke Mickey’s cock, his lips never leaving Mickey’s skin. Never enough to push him over that edge, just enough to keep him teetering right on it.
And then, fuck, then another. A glorious fourth finger that has Mickey drooling over the desk, his mouth hanging open as frankly inhuman sounds escape his lungs. His hips sway on his shaking legs as he adjusts to the sensation. 
Spread. Stretched. Stuffed. 
By his husband.
“Fuck,” Ian purrs and Mickey can feel him stand up behind him. “Take it so good, baby. Doing such a good job for me.”
Even with his eyes closed, Mickey can picture the look on Ian’s face as he stands back and soaks in the view. Half his hand buried in Mickey’s slick ass bent over the table.
Ian twists his fingers inside Mickey’s pulsing hole and they both groan in unison. Mickey’s not sure which one of them is enjoying this more.
“Love it when you let me use this perfect hole of yours,” Ian goes on, his voice sending shivers up Mickey’s spine. “Let me treat you like the queen you are.”
And Mickey’s preening under Ian’s attention, his body opening up to accept whatever Ian wants to give him.
It took him a while to get used to this, to get comfortable with it—Ian showering him in praise and affection—after a lifetime of hurt and neglect. Never learned how to process such positive words. 
But now he loves it. Has learned to relish in it. Sometimes even beg for it. The assurance of how much his husband loves his body, loves him, all of him, soothing like warm tea and honey. 
Ian keeps up his sensuous torment—fucking his fingers into him, spouting words both sweet and filthy into his ear—until Mickey’s legs can barely hold him up any longer.
Finally, Ian takes mercy on him. Reluctantly removes his digits, leaving Mickey empty, his cheeks clenching down hard in search of something, anything, to get that feeling back.
A strong hand wraps around his waist, stands him up, supporting most of his weight, and lowers both of them to the ground, Mickey coming to settle on his sore ass between Ian’s spread legs. Ian’s twitching cock presses against Mickey’s back, smearing wet slickness across his sweaty skin. 
His tongue licks a heavy stripe up Mickey’s neck ending in sharp nibbles to his ear. “So fucking proud of my man,” whispered so soft Mickey’s not entirely sure he didn’t imagine it. But no, he didn’t. Ian’s just like that.
Then Ian’s flipping them, pinning Mickey on his back on the plush carpet—the first and only thing they’ve remodeled in the place. 
Ian straddles him, hovering painfully close but not close enough over Mickey’s thighs. He stares down at him. Pupils blown. Lost to the sight.
Mickey’s body writhes beneath him, hips bucking sky high in an attempt to find something to grind against. Friction or pressure or fucking something before he implodes under Ian’s gaze.
“You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” Ian has the audacity to smirk at him. Like he isn’t torturing the man in the most beautiful of ways.
“Please. Please, Ian,” Mickey begs, his voice hoarse and shaking. Full of desire and lust and need he’s long since stopped trying to hide.
He loves his husband. Loves the way he makes him feel. There’s no shame in that.
Ian smiles. A devious thing. Victory.
Mickey doesn’t even care. 
Then he dips his head, marking his way up Mickey’s body. A trail of both teeth and suction bruising over his stomach, his chest, even the soft underside of his arm, that ultra-sensitive spot Mickey never knew he loved until Ian explored every inch of him. Ian finishes up his warpath across his neck, leaving hickies Mickey knows he won’t be able to hide.
Mickey thinks briefly of the third graders Ian invited to tour the farm tomorrow. “Come on, Mick. We’ll make it educational. Gotta get the next generation interested if we’re gonna save the bees.” Hopefully, the swarm of eight-year-olds will believe the marks are bee stings. A simple workplace hazard.
Someone sure is a hazard around this workplace, alright.
Finally, Ian’s lips make it all the way to Mickey’s. Tongues tangle in search of that familiar taste. 
Ian’s splayed out against him, the full length of their naked bodies pressed against each other. Mickey squirms, rutting his cock against Ian’s, but it’s not enough. He’s still so achingly empty he’s convinced his body will turn to dust if he doesn’t get his ass filled soon.
“Ian. I need— I need—” His brain is too lost to get the right words to his mouth, but Ian understands.
His husband reaches under Mickey’s weakened legs and helps him wrap them around his waist. He lines them up. Mickey’s nails dig into Ian’s back as he braces himself. 
Then, Ian’s pounding into him in one swift motion. He sinks to the hilt on the first thrust, Mickey’s hole already so stretched and ready for him.
Mickey registers the feeling of the scream leaving his chest but can’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. Finally. Filled. Perfectly. By the perfect one.
Ian keeps up the relentless rhythm—good and hard, just the way Mickey likes it—until Mickey’s close. Right back on that edge. He mutters incoherent sounds until Ian gets a hand on his dick and grants him that long-awaited orgasm in three solid strokes.
Fucking ecstasy right here on the office floor. Anywhere Ian is.
Ian drags his come-slick hand up Mickey’s chest, rubbing it into his skin. Mickey hisses, all the sensations too much on the comedown.
Ian slows his thrusts, not ready to separate just yet, but eases up on Mickey’s pleasure-wrecked body.
“God, I fucking love you.” Ian’s eyes lock on Mickey’s, boring through him as he rocks his cock inside his still pulsing hole. “Fucking perfect. No one else I’d want to do this with. All of this.”
And with that, Ian’s face screws up, his eyes slamming shut against his will as he spills inside of him. 
Ian’s arms shudder, his elbows give, and he collapses on top of Mickey’s chest where they stay. It takes a solid minute for the buzzing in Mickey’s ears to fade out. For his vision to clear. The tingling in his fingers and toes to subside.
He swallows. His throat feels raw. Must have been too lost to realize just how loud he’d gotten. One of the perks of being out here in the boonies. Not that neighbors would stop Mickey anyhow. Nothing a shot of homegrown honey won’t soothe.
When they’ve finally recovered, Mickey crawls his way over to the desk and opens the bottom drawer. The one where they keep the financial shit Ian avoids at all costs.
He watches Ian’s face as Mickey pulls out the supplies he’d stashed there days ago when it looked like the deal might actually go through. A picnic blanket. A grocery bag of Pringles and Snickers bars. A couple joints, the good shit from their buddy’s farm. And, even though Mickey thinks it’s disgusting, a bottle of champagne because he knows Ian loves that kind of sappy crap.
Ian’s eyes well up, soft motherfucker, and he smiles.
“For the official celebration,” Mickey says, holding up the bottle.
“You…” Ian trails off, for once at a loss for words.
“Here,” Mickey grabs one last thing from the drawer. A packet of seeds. “Let’s go plant some fucking tomatoes. As many as you want.”
Ian grabs Mickey’s face. Presses their lips together again. But this time they’re soft and slow. An I love you and thank you. 
Sweet as honey.
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teaandinanity · 9 months
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This is SO interesting, my Dark Urge character in BG3 sometimes just.... does not have the moderate and sane options that my blank slate one did. I definitely feel like this ought to be a second playthrough NG+ kind of thing but also I’m having so much fun with him that I do not WANT to finish my other playthrough first. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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bunnyb34r · 10 months
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So I got new shoes and tried out these new insoles with em and man do my feet fucking hurt
But it made me think ab advice [relative coworker] (and other senior coworkers who have now left) that you can tell right off the bat if we're going to have a good visit or a bad visit from the corporate lady by just looking at her shoes. If she has heels, we will have a bad visit. If she has some form of comfy shoes like sneakers, it's more likely to be a good visit. And it made me think
Goddamn is this bitch a fucking moron and a jackass. Like you KNOW how you feel when you have uncomfortable shoes on. You KNOW that that can be prevented by just wearing sneakers. Fuck you're like a gazillionaire you can afford stylish COMFY SHOES! Why the fuck are you showing up to these visits, which you already know you do not enjoy, with heels?? What kinda fucking idiot are you??
And she still has not personally visited since I started btw it has been prophesied 8 fucking times in a year. Get some better shoes you cranky fucking jackass, maybe then you'll feel like showing up.
#marquilla#i get it no one wants to be in ohio blah blah blah but like it's your job but also jfc get dr scholl's ya dumbfuck! take some advil and#power through with a 'good attitude' like the rest of us#like my feet fucking HURT and i was actively trying to NOT be a dick bc of that bc i know it's no ones fault but my own that i feel like#that but like you're telling me Ms. Moneybags doesnt have enough to buy some good shoes and thats why we keep failing? thats why she keeps#skipping our store? (not complaining ab the last part) like fucking come the fuck onn#no one is gonna be looking at your fancy heels bitch you could show up in sweats and sneakers and the managers would still trip over#themselves to please you and you know why?? BC YOURE THEIR BOSS FUCKHEAD WHO ARE YOU TRYING TO IMPRESS HERE??#like im gonna fix this situation that IM having by wearing my old shoes/old insoles until i get new insoles that are more cushiony than#support based bc thats what i need. you mean to tell me you are 30-40 something and you cant figure out what literal 11 year old me figured#out?? which was if im gonna wear heels im gonna buy those inserts that stick to the inside of the shoe to give me cushion and support#you mean that broke ass little 11 year old me had it figured out and you a gazillionare jr. cant do the same??#AND DR SCHOLL'S MAKES NICE SHOES TOO DUMBASS i had dr scholl's brand dress shoes in 7th grade that were sooo fucking cute im so mad i#outgrew them and that they stopped selling those ones 😭 anyway im ranting sgdggdgdgd im just tired of rich bastards being morons
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still have no idea what “icymi” stands for and refuse to just look it up, I simply read it a different way every time I see it  (”I can you me I”, “It cant young men inside”, “I could you mine I”, “I can your more information”, “I count your man in”, “Icy Me”, “If can you my eyes”, “International conference yearly (???)”, “I consider you most important”, “I call you me if”, etc) and move on, at peace with the fact that my brain will always interpret it as silly gibberish 
#like at this point i dont even  want to know#i like the puzzle of mentally reading it comepletely differently each time because no reading i come up with ever sounds#right or 'sticks' lol#I also heard somewhere that 'ofc' is actually supposed to be 'of fucking course' even though I always just read it as 'Of Course'#not that I really ever use abbreviations when I speak because I feel they're too vague (at most I might use idk for ;i dont know'#or 'bc' instead of  'because' if I'm in a rush or something but never much else)  so I haven't ever actually said 'ofc' but#I definitely have been reading it wrong if the 'fucking' being part of it is indeed true lol#Same with I had no idea what 'iirc' meant for like... years and would just see people use it#I mentally always read it as just 'IRK' or though it was 'if i really cared' or 'isnt it really cool' lol but those never made since in#context .#*sense#OR HOW long it took me to know 'nye' was new years eve#I legit always thought it had something to do with new york#like a festival held there or something#because I knew it often seemed like the pictures posted along side it contextually were often people drinking or in fancy clothes#Happy New York Event everyone! lol#I think sometimes it's more fun to not know things because then your life is full of happy little suprises and learning new random facts#I was like 20 yrs old when I realized the brand of clothes and shoes and etc. often labeled 'Polo Assn' was Polo Assocation#instead of Polo Assassin. And literally just this year realized that the red lobster biscuit things are 'Cheddar Bay Biscuits' instead of#'Cheddar BAKED Biscuits'. Also always thought the 'Mason Dixon Line' was the 'Mason Dixie Line'#Forever thought 'Cirque Du Soleil' was 'Circus Olay'. And that#that thing where people say 'Smile for candid camera!' was 'for CANDY camera!'#I learn new things everyday and it is a whimsical exploration of culture rather than a flow in my understanding lol#ANYWAY I keep seeing the little banner at the top of the tumblr dashboard with the advertisment that says icymi in it#the most common way I read it is like short common words but gibberish - 'if can your most it' or 'i can you me i'#sometimes my brain interprets it as a longer more complete seeming phrase#but usually its the tiny nonsensical ones#never anything actually cool like 'I Craft Your Malevolent Image' though. just boring stuff. internal conference of Michigan or something#'Infernal Curse You Must Internalize' 'It Carries Youthful Misguided Ignorance' 'Intense Craving Yearning (for) Mulberry Ice-Cream'#'I'll Consider Your Meddling Inquiries'
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bambirex · 2 years
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My interest in Queen faded a bit so I'm not in the mood to write Queen fic but the lack of feedback on my Witcher fics makes me unmotivated to write Witcher fic so I guess the solution is to not get any writing done today - again.
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muttever · 8 months
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this is a particular thought i cant get out of my head but like, ok so the restaurant i work at is understaffed (shocking) and my boss has gotten a few people to help temporarily and both of them have basically said to me "this is so stressful!!" and like....
yeah. i know in fact. do you want my sympathy? its my job, ive been here. if you arent going to stick around and help make my job suck less then i really really dont have it in me to care that you feel stressed since im back to doing this shit six days a fucking week again
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promptsbytaurie · 5 months
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dialogue prompts for ~injury~
!!please credit/tag me!!
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”
“Someone get the medic. Get the medic!”
“Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay.”
“You did so good. Don’t worry, you-you did so good.”
“Here, lean on me. I can carry you.”
“We’re gonna fix you up, brand new. I promise.”
“No. No, stop. Stop talking like that. You’re gonna be fine.”
“Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do—fuck.”
“I know, I know it hurts.”
"I don't care. I'm not leaving you."
“I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts.”
“Where are they? Where are they?!”
"I would believe that you're fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so."
"You just watched them die."
"This is going to hurt, okay?"
"God, I'm so sorry, it'll be over soon, I promise."
"How many fingers am I holding up? ... I don't have six fingers."
"Stop. No. Wake up. Wake up! I said wake up!"
"I came as soon as I heard."
“Get away! You’re hurting them!”
“Please be okay. Please be okay, please be okay—”
“Shit. Shit, that’s a lot of blood.”
“You dumbass. Don’t do that. Ever again.”
"Help them! Please!"
"You scared us all back there. I... Including me."
"[name]? [name], this isn't funny. Stop... please..."
"Breathe... breathe. Look at the stars, kid."
"It was supposed to be me... please, no, [name], please..."
"Tell me where it hurts, and be specific."
“You’ll be fine.” *silence* “You’ll be fine. Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
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yawnderu · 4 months
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No thoughts head empty, just bimbo!reader and Simon, who absolutely adores her. Something about a sheltered girl who has never even been close to seeing the horrors of war like he has is very refreshing to write about, not to mention how nice it must be for Simon to have a partner who, despite being kinda dim-witted, adores him just as much.
Simon's expectations of her aren't anything huge— simply for her to stay loyal and love him, and he'll take care of the rest. The pair is odd, bimbo!reader having a hyper-feminine style with lots of pink, while Simon is way more chill and always sticks to dark clothes, yet they both work out perfectly fine.
Simon ''my girl can wear whatever tf she wants, I can fight'' Riley absolutely adores seeing his girlfriend in short dresses and miniskirts and takes her shopping often whenever he's back from deployments. His favorite thing is seeing your smile when you find clothes you love, and he even helps you find things that he knows for a fact you'll like.
This man has your size for clothes and shoes memorized, one quick look in your closet when you're bathing and he's already learning and writing down on his notes the brands that you like so he can go shopping later.
He keeps his job a secret for you, not denying any guesses that you make no matter how far-fetched they are. What the fuck is a cosplayer? Sure, he's that. The smell of gunpowder that clings to him no matter how often he showers is simply a weird cologne, yeah.
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
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gallus-rising · 3 months
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i totally understand why ppl ship Laios and Kabru, i get the appeal, but to me that doesn't probably capture depths that their Freak Behaviors would create if combined in such a way
Kabru has just enough sense to not stick his dick in (that particular brand of) crazy, but he is still studying Laios like a bug. imagining him in situations. rotating him in the fantasy microwave. etc. he's thoroughly observed Laios in his natural habitat (dungeon), currently observing him in his unnatural habitat (civilization). he's seen Laios' family dynamics, has been sucked into his friendship circle, subtly interrogated fellow victims. there's only one thing left
he's never seen Laios Fuck
is this, perhaps, the singular aspect in life in which Laios is normal? is he his normal abrasive self or a conscience and tender lover? what does Laios think foreplay is? would he even register someone making moves on him in the first place? are dog collars involved at some point?? oh god what if the dog collars aren't even a sex thing for him--
imagine, you are an elven government spy here to seduce state secrets out of the mysterious king of the golden kingdom. months of pretending to care about his special interest are starting to pay off. after a banquet (you specifically were chosen for the job because of your immunity to poisons) he shyly invites you back to his chambers. this is it! the two of you are being shadowed, as would be expected for the king's first illicit encounter with a foreign dignitary, but you've finally done it!
Some Guy just walks in and starts taking notes while giving you the world's most intense Weezer Blue stare. you nervously, yet seductively, try to ask the king if he likes being watched or something~ ;) "haha yeah Kapru likes 'studying my habits' sometimes :)" oh god this isn't even a sex thing. with every second the Guy becomes increasingly distressed. Laios is just happy to be here
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gallusrostromegalus · 3 months
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hi i see that you have much smart dog experience. i may have accidentally purchased such a dog. she's only 10 weeks, and ive had her 1, and she's already outmatched every puzzle feeder i got or have made. to the point that she is morosely disappointed when her food comes in an actual food bowl. do you know where i can find like. "heres 100 enrichment toys you can make out of free trash so your dog stops eating fucking rocks for enrichment" lists. i only have so many paper towel tubes XD
Herschel now just disassembles puzzle feeders, so I've been focusing on "Toys that, even if he already knows how to operate them, will still take TIME for him to collect the treat from" to give him something to fuss with.
Herschel eats all his meals out of a Kong Wobbler, because he will otherwise eat so fast he will literally inhale and choke on his kibble and I do not need him developing pneumonia from aspiration. Even though it's a "Simple" toy it slows him down and he does have to think a bit to tip it in the most efficient manner possible. Kong's "Flipz", "Gyro" and "Rewards Wally" are also really good "dog needs to think/carefully manipulate the toy for food" toys that act as both mental stimulation and exercise and "give human a break for up to twelve minutes" toys.
I highly reccomend KONG as a brand- they're local to Denver and have an impeccable saftey record and all of the toys I have gotten from them have held up extremely well vs. the ravages of three entirely too smart and strong-jawed dogs at once.
Some more thoughts:
If she's not prone to shredding rubber, the kind of treat toys she has to chew are also good stimulation.
If you don't want to give her That Many treats, my vet said that dogs can have as many green beans as they want. Just make sure that the beans haven't had salt added to them- canned usually does, but frozen green beans usually don't, but always check the label.
You can make nearly any toy last longer, or make a cheap long-puzzle by freezing the treats so they take longer to eat AND provides hydration. Herschel's most favorite treat of all time is literally a wad of sliced green beans in a dixie cup, filled with water and frozen. Just peel off the cup and hand him the chunk of ice and he's good for up to half an hour and more chill afterwards.
You can also freeze lick mats
If your girl is like Charlie and doesn't like greenbeans, you can also try freezing paper cups of: Canned pumpkin, apple slices in water, putting some ice cubes in the bottom of the cup, a gob of peanut butter in the middle and then fill it with water to make a peanutbutter filled ice cube.
If your girl is REALLY like charlie who has figured out how to use labor negotiation and strike tactics for better treats: boiled chicken chunks frozen in some of the water you boiled them in.
Walkies are as much mental stimulation as they are physical exercise. Take her out and let her sniff to her heart's content.
Also Puppies in particular need like, SO MUCH exercise.
Let her participate in activities with you. Herschel and charlie sit in the kitchen and I narrate cooking dinner to them, which seems to interest them, even if I don't have spare veggie ends to give them. I also frequently bring them along in the car if I'm running errands when it's cold enough to do that, so they have something new to look at, and get to participate. I also am more likely to stop at a new park and give myself some exercise and mental stimulation.
Training her to do tasks is GREAT Smart Dog enrichment- esp if she's a herding or heeler, they LOVE being helpful. I taught the dogs they get a small treat if they come in from the yard without me having to go chase them down, which saved me a lot of hassle, and now I'm working on teaching herschel to pick things up off the floor for me if I drop them and alert for chickpeas, which my housemate is allergic to.
A lot of dogs like cat-type toys. Tie a stick or some fleece to some paracord and drag or flycast it around for her to chase/play tug with when she catches it. Toys that bounce unexpectedly were also a huge hit. or just wave the string around the cat and the corgi both like that.
If you live in farm country or know other people with pets, you can grab something with the scent of another animal on it and bring it home for her to smell. Charlie and Herschel spent the better part of three days investigating the wad of horse undercoat I brought home and put in the spare wobbler for them to smell.
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anantaru · 23 days
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ paint my skin red and call me yours
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synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your boyfriend scaramouche secretly loves it when you mark him up // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. placing hickeys on kuni while riding him <3, marking up, whiny kuni, a/n. repost/rewrite from an old fic, fem! reader ♡
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"hey, wait— don't do that!" it almost hurts when scaramouche tells you to please please please stop marking him up even though he secretly loved it yet was too proud to tell you.
you wish to tempt out every oh so little reaction whenever you browsed your teeth along his red dimmed skin, his face tinged with clear desperation— it's a lot shinier now too, laying down in front of you.
and those hot fingers digging daggers into your hips— the very ones that sweetly branded your skin with crescent formed shapes as your body worked up and down in expressing motions on your boyfriends erection.
"you don't like when i do this?" a mutter crosses your lips when his world spins harder the second you drag your soaked cunt down, your walls trapping his shaft inside a tight, wet compression.
right now, kuni feels like his cock was about to explode, the sensations you were capable to coax out of him were bone shuddering, although he's careful to lock his whines behind sealed lips and clenched teeth.
even now, as you're riding him into the mattress hard, he still attempts to grasp onto any kind of control, hilarious, really.
"no.. i do, fuck, i love it," he almost whines, then moans, "but, j-just—"
scaramouche truly couldn't wait any longer nor does he know how to elaborate himself anymore— how does one tell another that it's actually driving him fucking mad when you claim him like that, when it's you for once pressing hickeys on his body until he's wholly coated and sticked up with red splotches and messy saliva stains.
perhaps he thought being in denial was the right way to go, but another moan spreads past his parted lips and you continue your work proudly, swallowing down the haziness of pleasure as you claw yourself on him, your pulsing walls slicking up his girth as you're repeatedly shoving your hips into him.
scaramouche secretly enjoyed himself and so did you, especially how fine and skilled your pussy was sucking down on him tonight— his cock swelling while the pre stacked up in you, rubbing back and forth his stiffened member as the echoes of lewd sounds loaded the air with fine lined electricity.
"fuck— fuck, please do more!" it's over now, "do one more.. o-on my neck," and his voice had bundled up enough courage to step up a confident octave, "do more of this, please!"
he begins to frantically rut himself upwards your warmth in needy smacks, hands urging along your shaking thighs as he was slapping himself so far up your warm cunt that you're certain you're about to release on him as well— yet the thought, that little inkling that he would fill you up with his creamy cum made you hold onto it a little longer.
just so you could climax together in the end, the hot wave of kuni shooting you full of his sticky cum certainly had your sweet pussy drool all over him, messily, until your lower half was shuddering and all sore of him.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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konigsblog · 2 months
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stepdad Konig walking in on reader making content for her onlyfans?
anon, now i'm drooling at the thought of this... i have so many thots™️ for this :(
cam girl-reader x stepdad-könig.
TW/CW: STEPCEST, AGE GAP (READER'S AGE IS UNSPECIFIED, ALTHOUGH I SEE IT AROUND 20S, KÖNIG IS THOUGHT TO BE IN HIS 40-50S) MDNI 18+ ONLY.
your stepfather tries to control his disgusting desires towards his stepdaughter. he can see the way you flaunt your body towards the internet, for men around his age to jerk off to. he's had to hold himself back from getting off to your pretty tits, or the sight of your drooling, slicken cunt – he can barely resist searching your name up, when his fat and girthy cock is wet with sticky, hot arousal.
he pretends to be unaware in your work, although, your stepfather presses his ear against your bedroom door, listening to the sounds of your pleasure as you ride a brand new dildo you'd received. you're constantly receiving sex toys sent to you from fans, so you didn't question the package containing numerous sex toys – including vibrators, nipple clamps, and a large, eight inch dildo.
you didn't question it – you didn't even think that potentially your perverted father had sent these in the hopes of seeing you get off, to see you stretch your cunt out with a dildo of his size.
leaning back in his office chair, he wiped the sweat running down his forehead, his black t-shirt rolled up to reveal his hairy, muscular abdomen, with his shirt sticking to his sweaty, burly body. könig's grip on his hard dick tightened as he watched you finally begin recording, watching you lean back in your chair, giggling quietly whilst licking up the new, large toy to get it wet and slicken.
you slowly began easing further down onto the big toy, your mouth agape and your eyes wide, not anticipating it to be this large and thick, as your folds stretched around the toy, forcefully lowering yourself. you bit your bottom lip to suppress your pained moans and cries, cupping your mouth as your soft thighs began shaking and trembling at the thickness, struggling as you pushed down further, a tear slipping down your pretty cheeks. könig sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of your reaction, his bottom lip quivering with pleasure and anticipation, the sides of his mouth curling into a cruel, perverted smile.
fuck, he couldn't help himself from getting off to the sight. something so filthy and depraved - so frowned apon and taboo, he felt shame and guilt twist in his stomach, a feeling he enjoyed as he desperately craved and longed for more, with the tip of his meaty, hung cock drooling strings of his milky arousal at the sight of you bouncing. he knew he was disgusting – that he should be ashamed of himself – but, it seemed he was more focused on watching you take a dick his size, rather than clicking away.
perhaps he was hallucinating, but he swore he could hear the sounds of his name mumbled through loud, needy moans -- the sight of your pussy gripping onto it causing him to shoot a hot load all over his calloused fingers, onto his monitor screen, his broad hips bucking and thrusting skywards into his hand. :3
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moechies · 5 months
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tw dark content inct, infantilization, mental/physical abuse, weight mention, coercion, cutting, branding, nsfw but not really in detail, creampie mention, vv abusive
anon says..! naoya-nii who just keeps you like a pet.. not letting you dress urself , feeding you with a spoon , maybe even a bottle. He probably goes far as taking privileges like phones if you've been bad ,, ‘
naoya nii who never had to make your guys relationship dynamic clear. you were just such a good girl, and you would never go out of your way to deny or question your nii chan. well, after you tried to the first time. though sometimes he frustrated you, or confused you, it seemed that his light kisses to your tears and the way he soothes over your bruises made it all go away. ♡︎
first, you were never allowed to dress yourself. looking into your own closet earned you a slap on the wrists, and going as far as to trying on the clothes earned you a spanking. the first time you tried, it caused naoya nii to stay angry at you for days, offended that you thought he wasn’t taking care of you enough.
never ask him to wear somethin different. the last time you decided to ask to wear something less revealing, you were left lonely and cold in the room below his feet, bruises and cuts over the soft of your skin, with your cheeks red and burning.
naoya loved to dress you up in the prettiest, most expensive pieces. the pieces hugged around the curve of your body perfectly, flattering you in the best way. which isn't surprising, as he takes your measurements everyday in the morning when he changed you. his comments on your body always made you feel fuzzy, no matter what he said, 'need ta cut down on the sweets, ya gained some weight. i'll notice the servant.' 'yer tits are fatter, you sore?' the pieces were strangely small though, always showing an embarrassing amount of cleavage or ass that you didn’t really want to expose to naoya. however, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen right?
secondly, naoya-nii always feeds you. his job was handy, and allowed him to stay home with her precious sister, giving him all the time in the world to take care of you. naoya nii was always so patient and sweet, taking his time to bribe you when you were made to eat something you weren't so fond of. if you were upset and refusing the spoons of food, he would stick the entirety of his thumb into your mouth and gently place the food on the flat of your tongue! he never wanted you to be hungry!
however when you had mustered up the courage to ask to feed yourself, to your surprise he glanced up at you with a smile on his face and an enthusiastic 'yeah.' before the spoon had reached your opening, a subconcious slap comes down on your face and the spoon, knocking it over on the ground. naoya nii smashed the bowl of food he had held onto on the ground as well, breaking the bowl, leaving you there to cry on a stool whilst holding your cheek until you came running to him and yelling out apologies.
and last, your punishments <3 naoya nii was really the worst with punishments. he was the meanest, and never let you go regardless of the tears, and how his ears rung from your pained screams. over the years, he decided that the best ways to tame you were to hit you, and to fuck you.
naoya nii's abuse was never gentle. the paddles that came down on your back and down to your thighs always left you in shambles, leaving your mind empty with naoya nii in thought. the paddles caused cuts across your skin, eyeing down the beading blood that came from his hitting. and though it wasn't often, at times he would use an actual blade to teach you a lesson. whether it be carving degrading words onto your tits and thighs, or carving his name onto the fat of your ass and branding you!
and finally, naoya nii loved to have sex with you <3 though naoya never took his time to prep you that well, he always made sure it felt good. well, good enough. he loves to have you on your hands and knees, spreading your previously branded ass, listening to your sweet cries of his name. your slick dripped from your cunt, practically asking for nii nii to use you! :( he always made out with your slicked up cunt, which was the furthest that foreplay went to in terms of sex. after cumming in you, instead of watching it spill out and going to waste, he plugged you up with the prettiest of plugs, and tucked you into bed. however, you’re never allowed to cum. :( naoya nii just never allowed you to; after all, little girls don't do that. ♡︎
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