#also might to more of this

[new-berry]

Thiago Silva and Conor Gallagher? the two people who won’t lose their heads after a shit match but then find themselves the last ones in the dressing room with a lot of pent up feelings (frustration, rage, lust, etc etc) between them

NSFW sort of consensual non con after the carabo cup game

Cole is the hardest. Becuase he’s trying the hardest hard to be brave about it. He’s not used to being in the losing side

Conor tells him flat out it’s better to cry and get it out of your system. Better to feel the loss and move on.

He’s taken players to bed before. Nights like this. Tonight he just dumps them on Misha because he doesn’t drink and will get them all home safe.

Now he motions to Thiago and slides out of the dressing room avoiding the still circling press filing late reports.

There’s an ache that won’t be filled with crying or replaying the game in his mind or calling an old teammate. It won’t even be filled by Thiago except he is deeply and regretfully gets it.

Gets how losing gets in your bones and along your nerve endings. And how sometimes to need to feel

something else instead.

Thiago’s texting Bella as Conor pulls out of the car park and Conor suddenly fiercely loves her as well. He’s been with them both before. A different kind of taking care. But this time it’s just him and Thiago. His hands flex and he can feel the rub of anticipation in his thighs and his mouth.

They don’t make it into the house. Thiago undies his seatbelt and tells Conor to give him a minute. It’s stupid to fall for it. In a better state of mind he wouldn’t. His car door is wrenched open and he hasn’t got his seatbelt off.

Thiago stuffs something into his mouth. His dark eyes look foreign as the light from the garbage door slowly turns off. Conor has left the headlights on but they will turnoff themselves in time. For now the taste of leather gloves in his mouth and the seat shoved back. His hands tangled in a belt or a rope, it’s a little spongy maybe the cords he has left to the side after taking skis off the roof of his car.

Thiago swallows him down, his legs awkwardly splayed pants thrown aside, still half wearing one sock. He struggles because Thiago likes that, he likes it to. Tunes into the cruel things Thiago is saying to him how he’s only good for cock, how they keep him around as a willing slut.

His hands are rough showing Conor’s thighs apart and his teeth make his body twist as Thiago moves his mouth slowly up Conor’s cock. Scraping down harder as he gets to the tip.

Conor’s brain is frothing registering the sensation of teeth as panic and pleasure. He sobs out “please stop I don’t want it.”

Thiago just laughs at him. Shoves two fingers in him up to the first knuckle and says, almost like a conversation, “I’m going to fuck your pretty ass over the front of your car and make you lick it up.”

The headlights cut to half beam as Conor begs and Thiago laughs. He can’t remember what got them here. Let’s his mind empty out.

[stil-lindigo]

lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)

if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.

--

no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.

I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.

I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.

If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.

[hinamie]

10 years later

[ruushes]

sleeping arrangements (not sure tara would ever actually deign to sleep in the same 20ft radius as shovel but who can resist those big shiny insectoid black eyes 🥺)

plus:

[shopcat]

the baby has one parent's little face marking thing and the other's coat because they're a little horse family the world is a beautiful place

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael learns of Jeff’s pizza from FNAF Into the pit

[jouxlskaard]

elias in hades, perchance?

if tma were a hades-style roguelike I think it'd be entertaining to have elias just show up like a little bitch and give you tasks that eventually give you rewards. I don't think he'd show up as the final boss until much later on in the story (equivalent to the hades epilogue) where he'll become the eye's pupil and the player (presumably jon) has to kill him to stop the eyepocalypse or smth (don't question my thought process too much I haven't actually rationalised it all in my head yet lol)

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[rusticfurnace]

GHOSTSOAP // "you sweet fucker" MINICOMIC!!!

[alnilaem]

*heavy sigh* ……. Price

[starrysharks]

friendship is magic

closeups:

[thereallycoolmonsterithoughtup]

kabru and mithrun's fun succubus adventure

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[ruporas]

need to exist in your warmth (id in alt)

[billpottsismygf]

Doctor Who: The Impossible Planet & The Satan Pit / The Legend of Ruby Sunday

[verflares]

(click for higher quality!) draconified link concept ive been chipping away at this past week ..... here's my funny little compendium concept for him:

"A heroic spirit has taken the form of this bestial dragon. Unlike it's kin, this creature exhibits an extremely aggressive disposition. It appears highly territorial, and will relentlessly chase down those who disturb its skywide patrols - of which it seems to be endlessly searching for either a long-time vassal or foe. Unfortunately, it seems the spirit within has long since forgotten exactly who it was looking for…"