#spellchecker

[jimothy-salmonwich]

I already took my sun capsules but I’m just laughing at “rebagle it”

[malakkc-poetry]

Pen and paper

Your life without a computer: what does it look like? I’d be writing with pen and paper in order to express my poetry.  However,  I’d need to use a dictionary in order to spell check, which would delay the completed work, as my spelling is terrible,  and I rely heavily on spellchecker. However,  it does have a drawback,  and that it usually uses the most commonly used words, while I might need a…

[hasdrubal-gisco]

finally watched barbie last night. i think it was refreshing to see gerwig's exploration of population exchange in europe during the chalcolithic age. barbies are clearly coded to be early european farmers, living in a comfortable yet stagnant environment of europe at the tail end of the ice age, with a culture revolving around female fertility (notice the second character introduced is a pregnant barbie). the second sequence shows up ken(gosling)'s enterance into the story on beach, mirroring the arrival of western steppe herder cultures as glaciers in europe retreated.

once barbie and ken venture into the "real world" (prohpetic vision of the bronze age), ken adopts advanced technologies like the horse (horse), patriatrchy (worship of a male solar deity), and cars (the wheel, expoundable into the horse-driven chariot). his donning of the fringe jacket and cowboy hat stir within the audience a yearning for westward expansion, from the pontic steppe through the pannonian basin and beyond.

ken transforming barbieland into the kendom mirrors the replacement of early european farmer (vinča, varna cultures etc.) with corded ware and bell beaker cultures, settled iterations of the kens' previously pastoral culture. the only barbie not assimilated into the new cultral zeitgeist is weird barbie (basques), herself a cultural isolate even compared to other barbies pre-invasion.

the final battle scene between the two ken factions places particular focus on archery, hallmark of the mongol civilization, which was the last of the steppe invasions of europe. notice in this situation, gerwig's bravery in correctly having ken (asian) represent the kingdom of hungary (asian), whereas ken (gosling) is of course the ever-lasting scythian spirit emanating from the steppe. some scholars have suggested the light-blue void where the last battle takes place to be a metaphor tengri.

some other stuff happened as well but i didn't really get how that fit into the greater story i guess. what was the deal with the old jewish lady LOL !

[littleheartsong]

Laios x fem or gn reader where she also enjoys monsters but she also enjoys animals (in the mentally ill way). Which leads to them always chatting about them, like chilchuck will be walking by and he'll hear that female hyenas have a penis. He just walks away thinking "what in the fucking fuck was that!?" I imagine they would also stay up late talking about monsters. :D

(↑The big little man learning that information)

i too am mentally ill about animals i could talk about biology for literal hours

laios/gn reader content: fluff. autism-to-autism conversation warnings: casual conversation about killing animals+monsters. mentions of animal genitalia. pretty normal!

"So... what's your favourite monster?"

The sudden question prompted Laios to look up from the delicious aroma of simmering kelpie, probably the one thing to take his attention away from food, while both Chilchuck and Marcille grimaced at what you'd just unleashed.

"My favourite monster?" Laios ponders the question as you nod in confirmation, "Well, Basilisks are pretty cool since they have two heads, though it's thought that the snake head is the actual head." 

"Really?"

"Yeah! Since it's cut in half, the snake head lives longer." His smile widens at your interest.

"I wonder what would happen if you cut a two-headed animal in half. Would one head live longer or would they both die at the same time?" You wonder while tilting your head.

Laios thinks about that for a second; it's a pretty good question! He's only seen two-headed calves in his village, and they didn't live long after birth.

"I think it depends on where it's cut since two-headed animals aren't supposed to have two heads and Basilisks are born that way," he concludes with a nod to cement his statement.

"That makes sense! It probably depends on the animal too; it would be harder for a larger animal like a calf to live longer than something smaller; like a snake," you say.

It appears Marcille has since lost her appetite and absconded from the area to avoid any more of this conversation and tucked into her bedroll, praying to whatever spirits can hear her you will stop soon. Chilchuck is more morbidly fascinated by what you two are talking about. He didn't even know animals could have two heads, and he hopes he never encounters one. Two-headed monsters are enough for him.

"No one can seem t' decide where th' 'ead begins n' ends," Senshi chimes in while preparing dinner.

"So are Basilisks your favourite then?" you ask Laios.

"Huh? Oh!" Laios perks up, reminded of the original question, "They're cool, but not my favourite," He taps his finger to his chin, once again in thought, "I'd have to say Wargs are my favourite," 

You smile at that." Wargs are so cute! They remind me of hyenas or bears, with their big, boxy heads and bulky bodies.

Laios is stunned for a moment; never in his whole life has he heard someone describe Wargs as 'cute'. He'd sooner describe them as 'cool' or 'ferocious'; does that mean you think bears and hyenas are cute too? He could understand bears. They look fluffy, though they also have those big claws. What other things do you think are cute?

"Yeah, they kind of are; they remind me a bit of my dogs back at my village," he says. "They also have really soft fur,"

"Wow! I wanna pet a Warg!" You clap your hands together in delight. "It'd probably bite my hand off, but it'd be worth it."

Warm laughter falls out of Laios' mouth before he can catch it. "Maybe we can find one and pet it together sometime."

Your face breaks into a grin as you sit closer to Laios. "Sounds like a plan! Hey, maybe they're really social, like hyenas."

Laios has to clear his throat, so anything he wants to say doesn't get stuck in there, as a flush rushes to his face. "I don't know that much about hyenas... I've only seen pictures."

That moment is when you really light up. "Oh! They're so cool! Especially spotted hyenas; they're the biggest ones, and they're also called bone-crushing hyenas since can break bones with their bites," and off you go.

"The females are larger than the males, and it's a matriarchal society too! So even the lowest-ranking female is still higher-ranked than the male. Even their penises are bigger!" 

Laios watches you share this information with wide, wondrous eyes. "Wait, their penises?"

"Oh, well, it's not a real penis," you correct yourself. "It's just the clitoris enlarged, but it pretty much acts like a real penis. They mate with it, pee through it, and even give birth with it!"

A pause

"... How does that work?" Laios asks.

"Well-

At that point, Chilchuck silently excuses himself to his own bedroll. He doesn't need to know the details. Birth is excruciating enough as is, but with a- no. No. He shakes his head to get rid of the terrible thought.

Senshi seems interested in listening, though.

[tempural]

No skin, no muscles, no hair.

Read alt text for diagnosis and care instructions - PONY EXPRESS IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY INJURY OR LOSS OF LIFE DUE TO AUTODOC MISCALCULATIONS. Please take good care of him regardless!

[baejax-the-great]

It's not enough for the blue squiggly to disappear I want Microsoft Word to feel pain when I hit "ignore once" for their batshit wrong grammar suggestions

[snake-snack-stede]

[muppetebbtide]

idk lmao I heard maybe there's some other silly little ways in which This Isn't How It Happens?

[harbingersglory]

hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content

"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.

But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.

"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.

"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.

"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"

The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.

She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.

"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."

[marlynnofmany]

I was reading about how big and apocalyptic hailstones can be, as you do (we only get the tiny ones where I live), and I can't help thinking it seems like such a fantasyland concept. Lumps of ice big enough to kill you just fall from the sky sometimes? Usually a lot at once? Clearly you've pissed off something supernatural, and you'd better figure out what.

(Alternately, you might cast your own spell that makes the hailstones splash into water on contact, or flowers, or who knows what else. Repopulate The Frog Population With This One Simple Trick Mistake. Whoops, that was the wrong spell. No one will notice, right?)

[prokopetz]

My browser's spellchecking dictionary recognises the word "palimpsest", but not "roleplaying". Genuinely, who the fuck curated this thing?

[tango-but-everywhere]

2 bros… sleeping on pearl’s verandah…

pearl, season 10 episode 4

[ID: a minecraft screenshot from hermitcraft 10, taken out the front of pearl’s house at night. Tango is asleep in a bed on the verandah. Etho is asleep in a bed on the path out front. Pearl is standing between them, in 3rd person back perspective. They’re all in full diamond. Etho’s the only one without a shield. End ID]

[side-of-honey]

For those of you who were wondering who Master Shifu (and Oogway) are in Sharpshootin Clover AU, here you go! Technically speaking, Ceroba and Chujin kind of share both roles, but Ceroba is more often Shifu and Chujin is more often Oogway ^^

Anyways, this is the overseer of the Feisty Five's lassoons! She can be quite hard on them, but I'm sure she knows what she's doing. She's the best teacher in town, after all!

[childrenofcain-if]

ENOUGH WITH THOSE TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS (C AND D), I WANT MY SAD LITTLE MEOW MEOW TO HAVE SOME SPOTLIGHT TOO 🤩 GIVE US SOMETHING WHOLESOME FOR W

(I was sold the second they showed up in a Leon Kennedy costume 🥴)

you were sitting across from W on their bed; camera equipments, scripts, piles of books and notebooks with creased covers and fraying edges surrounding the bedroom. W had taken to picking at the threads of their sweater’s sleeves, their fingers moving as if on autopilot, focused on you but never meeting your eyes for too long. they seemed to vibrate with some constant, buzzing energy; as if they were always on the edge of fleeing, some part of them always afraid that if they stayed still for too long, you’d deem them a weirdo and never even come near them again.

but that was just W, wasn’t it? this perpetual stillness tangled with nervous energy, like a candle whose flame kept shifting in the draft. they were here with you, yet part of them never fully settled, never quite willing to let the fear drop. you wondered if anyone else would’ve noticed the subtleties in W’s tension, the small way their shoulders lifted with every breath, or the way their fingers twisted in the fabric of their own sweater until their knuckles turned as white as their bones.

they’d made an awkward joke about their suitemate’s sleeping habits and you laughed, even though it wasn’t really that funny. to many people, the sound may not be particularly remarkable. to W, it was thunder and music, the thing that called them back from the dark, the thing they had been chasing since you two were children.

W’s feelings for you were a slow-burn disaster, a shipwreck that had been happening for years, filling up their life inch by inch. they thought about it sometimes like it was an oil spill, like they’d let it overflow so many times that now there wasn’t a place left in the ocean that wouldn’t catch fire if somebody struck a match.

they couldn’t pinpoint exactly when they’d decided they loved you; it felt like one day they just looked at you, and it was there, woven into the intricacies of their soul before there was even a possibility of your existence. loving you was as natural as breathing, as irreversible as rain hitting the ground.

you were now talking about something—a memory, something you’d done last winter, maybe—and W nodded along, but their mind drifted to how you looked under that sunlight filtering through their canary yellow blinds. it cast you in softened shadows and highlights, picking out every contour of your face and making you look like heaven’s teardrop.

you were lovely in a way that hurt to look at. W never said it, but they thought it a lot: that you were beautiful in a way that was calm and quiet and fierce all at once, like moonlight on water or fireflies in the middle of july.

it struck them sometimes, like a hammer to their ribs, that they’d been in love with you for most of their life. and how foolish it was, really, to be so irrevocably caught up in someone else amongst the innocence of their youth. but W had grown up with nothing they’d dared love—at least, not out loud.

their parents had taught them that love was a trap, that care was a weakness, and even as a kid, they’d been wary of wanting anything too much. of course, not that it stopped their heart from experiencing that want, that need.

your presence beside them always felt surreal though, like it was something that should have only ever existed in a dream. and yet, here you were, next to them, every slight brush of your skin a shock against their nerves. it was so light, yet for W, each touch, each accidental graze of your arm against theirs, was like lightning in the form of wistful wisteria petals.

they wanted to reach for you. they wanted to bridge that space, fold into you like they had as a kid, when it was easier to say “i’m scared” and let you chase away the dark. when it was okay to lean on someone and just be.

but things were different now. W wasn’t a kid anymore. and the years had left scars on them, scars they were unsure if you could even see. you hadn’t been there for the worst of it—those hollow, hungry days where they’d gone without sleep, without food, when they’d let their body waste away because somehow they thought it might make them someone worthy to be sticking around for.

feeling unlovable, feeling like they had to be smaller, quieter, like they had to take up less space just to avoid being left alone all over again.

they looked down at their hands, the bony angles of their fingers, the thinness that never seemed to go away, no matter how much they tried to pretend they were fine. they knew what they looked like—what they had done to themself, without ever really meaning to... what they continued to do to themself while meaning to.

but you were here now, and that was enough, wasn’t it? somehow, it felt like it might be.

the conversation lulled, and there was a warmth to the silence, like the sun spilling in through the window was made just for the two of you. W took a breath, carefully, as if they were holding something delicate in their hands, as if breathing too loud might shatter every single thing in the room.

they dared to reach out then, just barely brushing their hand against yours. your skin felt warm, grounding, something that pulled them back down from the dark place their thoughts so often took them. and it felt almost wrong, this simple touch, like they were stealing something precious. but you didn’t pull away; instead, you turned your hand over and let their fingers slip into yours.

“hey,” you said, voice soft, barely above a whisper, and W’s heart stuttered in a way that made them feel like it wasn’t so irreparable after all. “are you okay?”

“sometimes,” they started, the words tumbling out before they could stop them, “i forget that you’re real.”

you blinked at them, surprised. “what do you mean?”

they shifted, feeling awkward, feeling seen. “i mean this. being here with you. it feels like a dream, and i’m terrified of waking up.”

a faint smile touched your lips. “this is real, W. i’m real. we’re real.”

and they knew that, in some rational part of their mind. but knowing it didn’t stop the way their heart twisted in knots.

“you were the only good thing i ever managed to dream up amongst my nightmares,” W murmured, a confession they hadn’t even meant to give, something that slipped out like it had been there all along, waiting.

your hand tightened around theirs, and their chest didn’t feel so tight anymore, the edges of their thoughts not so cutting. with you, the bad dreams faded, the fears dulled, and the ashamed parts of themself grew just a little softer.

they remembered when you two used to have sleepovers, how you’d sleep side by side, and they’d wake up feeling safe, as if just being near you could make all the bad things go away. even now, all these years later, they knew they sleep better with you beside them.

“elmo?” you said, bringing them back. your gaze was gentle, the kind of look that made them feel seen, like you weren’t just looking at them but through them, into the places they only laid bare for you.

“yeah?” their voice was rough, the sound scraping out of them like it was pulled from the depths of their very soul.

“i’m really happy you’re still here,” you said, simple and honest.

insecurity twisted in their chest, old and familiar, a reminder of all the ways they’d been told they weren’t enough, weren’t wanted. the shadows of their parents’ abrupt abandonment lingered, whispering that they’d never be worthy of love, never be more than something to be picked up and quickly discarded. but here you were, your hand in theirs, anchoring them, making them dare to believe the contrary.

W tried to laugh it off, the awkwardness seeping into their voice. “you don’t have to say that just because i look like i might be having a breakdown soon.”

you shook your head, your gaze soft but fierce. “no, i mean it. i love you, elmo, cross my heart. and i’ve also… i’ve also missed you. a lot.”

“i love you too, cross my heart twice. and...” W swallowed, their throat tight, sapphire blue eyes shimmering. “i missed you a whole lot more. more than i can put into words.”

for a moment, there was only silence. you squeezed their hand again, and W looked at you, really looked, as if memorizing every detail, every line and shadow of your face. there was that familiar softness in your eyes, a warmth they didn’t think they deserved, but they couldn’t bring themself to let go of it. not yet. so they betrayed their self-effacing mind yet again, just this once.

and then, almost as if testing the waters, they whispered, “you know, this is a little embarassing to admit but i’ve always slept better when you were around.”

you simply smiled. “me too.”

the two of you laid your head down together, hand in hand, and when sleep finally claimed the tired blonde, all they dreamt of was you.

[shinraalpha]

*presses button on dictaphone* Pedro Pascal as Inigo Montoya, the only human casting in The Muppet's Princess Bride