#work-boxes

[bethanydelleman]

The table between the windows was covered with work-boxes and netting-boxes which had been given her at different times, principally by Tom; and she grew bewildered as to the amount of the debt which all these kind remembrances produced. Mansfield Park, Ch 26

I love the fact that Fanny is always being given many duplicate sewing materials by Tom, who seems to know nothing about her past that she sews because this is so typical.

I tend to be given "art stuff" because people know I paint. People know my husband likes the Maple Leafs (hockey team) so we always get random Maple Leafs stuff. In Canada, the most common generic gift is a Tim Hortons gift card (coffee shop founded by a hockey player) because everyone loves coffee right? We have a stack of them because we rarely go. If you are a woman, I know you’ve been given Generic Box of Matching Smelly Soaps TM.

Fanny is feeling grateful for gifts that are generic and duplicates, she is really kind to her cousins. I'm polite in person before I plan my regifting...

[strawberryrnilk]

can u imagine riding Simon and he tells you a shitty joke because he likes seeing you smile and you’re all giggly like

“Don’t make me laugh with your dick in me”

but you actually do love it when he smiles and gets a lil silly too. You throw a couple of bad jokes at him but he has a full arsenal of bad jokes so you’re out matched but it’s okay, you two just enjoy the sweet, tender moment together 🩷

[chloesimaginationthings]

There's doomed yuri... in my FNAF ruin?

[hinamie]

i'm exactly as normal about him as I thought I'd be

[brothermouse-skeleton]

The only people in the novel Dracula who aren't having the worst time of their life are the guys who moved the earth boxes because they have consistently gotten free drinks from the random lawyer who's very interested the boxes.

[yardsards]

people are pushing against the overly ~wholesome~ fandom culture of the 2010s but they're going too hard and swinging in the opposite direction. now for something to be considered *good* it has to be Dark and Edgy and Complicated and Toxic. and ppl feel the need to justify their liking something with "no it's actually like suuuper dark".

...and that's how you get people calling farcille "toxic yuri".

[echoes-of-the-unknown]

Happy wedding day!!!

Clear of text below the cut

[timethehobo]

Had the thought of what if Manfred really just pantomimes normally, but because The Lighthouse is in the Fade, he can while they’re in there?

[krysmcscience]

Narilambs your goat

Get adopted, idiot

[yourlocalabomination]

Tick Tock, Teddy-Bear.

[manyrepulsivethoughts]

that one post comparing ruin's and LN2 endings altered my brain chemistry so now have this

[mios-art]

Answering "Oh my god I'm so stupid, sorry" when someone points out a mistake you made: sad, self-depreciating, makes the person who corrected you feel bad and awkward

Answering "Oh my god you're a genius, thank you" : positive, a compliment to the person, makes everyone laugh especially if it was a tiny mistake

[chloesimaginationthings]

So I have a sticker club now on my Patreon!

[yeyinde]

Father John Price has been acting strange lately.

It started as little things most wouldn't notice—an odd slur to his words, far rougher than what you were used to hearing. A sway to his gait when he walked as if he was unfamiliar with the layout to the monastery. Gaps in his memory when pried for pieces of information that he should have known better than anyone else within the walls of the old building. Little slips. Missteps.

Nothing to worry about.

Not at first, anyway.

Not until it bleeds out, grows. Turns into touches. A searing, angry gaze drilling into your head whenever you look away from him. Ire lashing over each word he growls out in the alcoves he corners you inside, the guise of polite conversation falling to pieces when he slips his foot between yours, prying your thighs apart to stand between them. Towering over you as he rasps out commands for you to tell him about how you spent the evening prior on your knees—

Praying, you whisper feverishly, feeling the deep indents of the rosary beads imbedded into your fingers.

But that never seems to matter much to him. Not when the prayer is always an afterthought, and he makes noises like a wounded animal when you breathe out how long you stayed like that, and how—unable to resist temptation after gripping the rosary for long—you had to slide your cold fingers under your robes, numb, shaking hands seeking the blistering heat between your thighs.

("not close enough to tempt the devil," you mutter, shamefaced, heart lurching when the noise he makes in the back of the throat sounds like a misfiring gun. "But—" he drops his head to the wall, heaving. Eyes burning into your temple as you stare at the crooked tilt of his collar, unable to meet his gaze. Scared of what you might find. "But close enough that I had to—to pray again—")

And as the distant, unflappable mask of a seemingly incorruptible man begins to crack, breaking apart to unveil a yawning chasm, you find yourself trapped in confessional box with him after dark, quickly realising that the man you devoted your life to has fallen into that crater.

And something else has taken his place.

[guerrillatech]

Imane Khelif doesn’t miss.

[kyri45]

MK running back to Red Son after the world most embarrassing talk with flowers or to kidnap him like “HEY I THINK YOURE HOT-”

Red Son, an autistic icon: I... Know???? I'm made of fire???