Palace of Pain and Pleasure

I am begging you, fellow knights: Please remember to kiss your royal’s hand before you go down on them. Like where are your manners???

one thing I love about American English is that we don’t even try with French words, we just full send it. croissant. yeah that’s uhhhhh cris aunt.

do u think ragatha fucks like a plushie or like a beanbag

two things which famously do not fuck

what you don't know could fill a library

Ryland Grace and his popularity as a character feels like such an important step in repairing the cultural tsunami left by the long running trope of every genius character needing to be an insufferable asshole to everyone in a ten mile radios about it.

Conversely, Eva Stratt is doing wonders for repairing and inspiring a appreciation for commanding women with dubious moral convictions who are fully willing to bend laws for the greater good without hesitation.

And together they are doing brilliant things by not kissing or hooking up even once.

one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.