#but if so let me know in the notes!

[luna-loveboop]

Thief!

Thief!!

I thought this when I first saw that panel- I haven't played Links awakening but from my understanding Marin and others will aggressively call you a thief for the game if you steal from the store.

Anyways. Legend's a thief, thanks. 10/10 reference from Jojo :))

Art is from @linkeduniverse, and the screenshot in game is from @uniquevoidflowers :D

[who-do-i-know-this-man]

Both Selfish; you each lose 2 points

You Selfish, prev Cooperative; You gain 2 points

You Cooperative, prev Selfish; You lose 1 point, prev gains 1 point

Both Cooperative; You Each gain 1 points

(ps make sure to say what you voted)

Making this post long so you have to scroll to see prev's tags.

[thekaiserroll]

Hug

It's nearly impossible to have a quiet and peaceful day with the crew, like the strawhats. Nami is mostly used to the noise on Going Merry but one day she gets fed up with Zoro and Sanji arguing. Not only are they extremely loud, but they've also already broken way too many things during their fights.

She decides that If they want to act like brats, then she's going to treat them as such. So she makes them apologize and hug each other in silence for an hour. None of them are happy about this punishment, but Nami threatened to raise Zoro's debt, and Sanji couldn't say no to her. It could be worse.

It's awkward enough for them to not incite any fight for a long time and Nami is quite proud of herself. She knows it won't last forever but at least now she knows how to handle them. It inevitably happens again. And again. And again.

Much to her surprise, those fights became more and more frequent. And what's even weirder is that she could see the way both Zoro and Sanji occasionally glanced at her to make sure she was nearby. It's almost as if they wanted someone to make them hug each other. As if they needed an excuse.... these idiots.

Soon, they don't even need Nami's help. When they aren't busy training, cooking or fighting, they cuddle together. Sometimes Luffy or Chopper would join them, but most of the crew knew it was their time.

After two years spent separately, they became extremely clingy. It's no surprise when they start sleeping in the same bed. What is surprising is that despite them behaving like a lovey-dovey couple, those oblivious idiots are STILL unaware of each other's feelings.

[chidorrrita]

・❥・I'm your puppet

You bring up the idea of L using you to distress. He agrees. Absolute filth follows.

: ̗̀➛ l lawliet x gn!reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: smut (pretty obvious), heavy degradation, slight praise, breeding, slapping, slight cum eating, being called pretty little thing and slut, reader is a freak for L

: ̗̀➛ wc: 1000+

: ̗̀➛ a/n: two posts in a week, who would have guessed. anyways please enjoy the degenerate activities here. 

L positions you in the way he wants, pulls you up by your throat, long fingers curling around constricting your breaths, until your body is pressed against his, as his hips snap against the fat of your ass causing a “pap pap” sound to echo throughout your room. 

He’s relentless in his search for pleasure, paying you no mind, as his hand begins to squeeze your throat, the other snakes its way to seize your hip in a bruising grip, and hot pants and low grunts escape his chapped lips as they brush against your ear. Your mind turns to mush, no longer able to distinguish pain and pleasure as it creates a sinful mix tricking you into begging for more. All that comes out is a series of babbles, drool dripping down onto your chest, and L smugly laughs at your pathetic self. Too drunk off this moment to say or do anything as he bends you over, forcing your head into a pillow, to hit that sweet spongy spot inside. You let out a scream of delight as if he understood your pleads, and in return clench around his cock deliciously. He lets out another grunt, deep from within his chest, and smacks your ass letting the sting linger before smacking it again with just as much force. It sends your body jolting forward, too much for your broken mind to handle, and you try to squirm from his grasp, but he drags you back to where you belong. Taking his cock like you were made for this, made to be ruined by him. 

Muffled mewls and a feeble excuse of thrusting yourself back on his dick makes his mind lose focus. Normally crippled by the weight of his cases, L kneels taller now, filled with thoughts of fucking you full. He pulls out, just kissing your hole with his flushed tip, until ramming himself back in, setting a brutal pace on your body. You couldn’t be more delighted. 

It was your idea to help him distress. A method, other than eating a concerning amount of sweets, to relax him. 

You picked at the threads on your sweater as you watched him reach for another stack of macarons after downing two boxes. His fingers danced across his keyboard, quickly typing out a report in some language you can’t discern, before he spots you shyly inching over. 

L stuffs a strawberry macaron in his mouth before asking “woul’ ‘o’ ‘ike o’e” offering you a vanilla one. 

“No it’s okay” you say trying to hide a chuckle bubbling its way out. “I was actually wondering how your job is going.”

He continues to violently chew, “ ‘qui’e ‘ell,” he swallows thickly, “why do you ask?”

“Well,” you peer down to your socks, rubbing your toes against the carpet, “I was just worried if you were stressed. You’ve eaten almost three boxes of those.”

“Sugar keeps the brain awake,” he states matter-of-factly as he goes to grab another one.

Your hand stops his, holding it in place, and he looks up to you slightly confused with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. He’s trying to read you.

“Maybe you should rest a while. Let your brain reset, you know?” His gaze shifts to his laptop. The report is nearly finished, and it has been weeks since he could sleep for more than an hour. He can never fully rest on a job like he can when he’s with you. His mind is plagued by images of known friends and nameless faces calling him, but you keep them at bay. Perhaps resting will do him some good. 

His voice softens to barely a whisper, “that would be good,” until he corrects himself “then I can continue working.”

“I’ll help you distress.”

L starts to get ready for bed, gingerly changing into his pj’s which really only consists of taking off his pants, and begins to slip into bed until he notices your apprehensive self still standing at the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. Nothing, nothing,” but you still remain at the door.

His eyes squint in suspicion, letting silence question you instead of him. You quickly relent. “I mean… Well I feel bad now.”

More silence.

You sigh, frustrated at the fact your will power breaks so easily for him. “I was going to ask if you wanted to have sex to distress, but then you were actually going to sleep and now-”

“I would very much like to have sex with you.” 

“-I feel like an asshole- wait what?”

“I said I would like to have sex.”

The air in the room turns thick with the smell of sweat and sex cut by your pornagraphic moans, and L’s harsh pants, and the sound of his heavy balls hitting your ass. 

The position he has you in makes him hit even deeper than you could imagine, leaving you incapable of moving let alone thinking, but no need to think. A pretty little thing like you doesn’t need to think when you have L as your lover. He knows what you need is to be a good little slut and take his cum.

Your hoarse voice says “‘is too much. Can’t take it.” between moans, legs shaking underneath L’s thighs.

He accentuates each word with a thrust. “Yes.” “You.” “Can.” forcing the bed frame to hit the wall. 

He bends over your hunched frame, lips leaving sloppy wet kisses against your neck until he reaches your neck and he whispers “be good for me,” and you cum.

Stars dance around the corner of your vision as a soundless scream escapes you, and your hole tightens around L’s cock making him hiss. He drops to his elbows, succumbing to only shallow thrusts until it’s all too much and he cums filling your hole and pushing it back in with his cock. He stays until he softens and falls out, and his eyes fall on your thighs. His cum is smeared across your inner thighs, dripping down between your ass and on to the bed. He scoops it back up and pushes it in, not wanting to waste a single drop, and you moan at the intrusion. 

He takes his cum covered fingers to your parted lips, already familiar with routine, and you wrap them around his fingers, tongue swirling to get every last bit. You release them with a ‘pop,’ eyes waiting patiently for your reward, and he obliges, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. 

He gets up to get a towel and begins to get you cleaned up, kissing each bruise he left, and massaging your sore limbs. 

“You did so well for me.”

“Would you say you’re sufficiently relaxed?”

“Yes, very relaxed. Thank you.”

He kisses your head, and tucks you into bed smiling to himself. How he ever got you to be his lover, he will never know, but he is forever grateful you are.

[eevachu]

Y’all should buy a ticket for the emotional rollercoaster that is “Body’s a Bad Monster” by @inkskinned! Emotions I didn’t know I still had are sore. Feels like there are maggots eating away at the decaying flesh in a wound I didn’t even know I had. 10/10. Owie. 🥲👍

[blingblandart]

hes trying to help her modify her knitting pattern

[onlyvika]

Can you please show off your biceps?

[moroniccats]

In case anyone’s having a bad day, here’s a collection of Holmes complimenting Watson in canon:

“Excellent, Watson!”

“Dr Watson is my friend and partner.”

“Would you go in, Watson? Your appearance inspires confidence.”

“Watson, you are a British Jury, and I never met a man more eminently fitted to represent one.”

“Dr Watson is the very soul of discretion.”

“Brilliant, Watson!”

“Capital, Watson!”

“Very good, Watson.”

“Exactly, my dear Watson!”

“Brilliant, Watson. You are scintillating this morning.”

“Good, Watson, good!”

“You look the same blithe boy as ever!”

“Watson has some remarkable characteristics of his own.”

“Indeed an ideal helpmate.”

“With your natural advantages, Watson, every lady is your helper and accomplice.”

[hypokeimena]

In recent years, there has been a rush on the internet to supply image descriptions and to call out those who don’t. This may be an example of community accountability at work, but it’s striking to observe that those doing the most fierce calling out or correcting are sighted people. Such efforts are largely self-defeating. I cannot count the times I’ve stopped reading a video transcript because it started with a dense word picture. Even if a description is short and well done, I often wish there were no description at all. Get to the point, already! How ironic that striving after access can actually create a barrier. When I pointed this out during one of my seminars, a participant made us all laugh by doing a parody: “Mary is wearing a green, blue, and red striped shirt; every fourth stripe also has a purple dot the size of a pea in it, and there are forty-seven stripes—”

“You’re killing me,” I said. “I can’t take any more of that!”

Now serious, she said it was clear to her that none of that stuff about Mary’s clothes mattered, at least if her clothes weren’t the point. What mattered most about the image was that Mary was holding her diploma and smiling. “But,” she wondered, “do I say, Mary has a huge smile on her face as she shows her diploma or Mary has an exuberant smile or showing her teeth in a smile and her eyes are crinkled at the edges?”

It’s simple. Mary has a huge smile on her face is the best one. It’s the don’t-second-guess-yourself option. My thinking around this issue is enriched by the philosopher Brian Massumi’s concept of “esqueness.” He exemplifies it by discussing a kid who plays a tiger:

One look at a tiger, however fleeting and incomplete, whether it be in the zoo or in a book or in a film or video, and presto! the child is tigerized… The perception itself is a vital gesture. The child immediately sets about, not imitating the tiger’s substantial form as he saw it, but rather giving it life—giving it more life. The child plays the tiger in situations in which the child has never seen a tiger. More than that, it plays the tiger in situations no tiger has ever seen, in which no earthly tiger has ever set paw.

Just as the child and an actual tiger are not one bit alike, the words Mary has a huge smile on her face have nothing in common with the picture of Mary holding her diploma. Yet the tiger announces something to the world, its essence, and a kid can become tiger-ized and be tiger-esque, their every act shouting, I am a tiger. The picture of Mary at her graduation is shouting something, and the words Mary has a huge smile on her face are also shouting something. It is at the level beyond each actuality, in the swirl that each stirs up, that the two meet.

(from Against Access, by John Lee Clark - link in notes)

[skyddish]

one of the foxes seeing neil's drivers license pre-TKM: Who's Alex?

Neil: I think the better question is, "Are you a narc?"

[commsroom]

8.15.2024: Happy [ Ten Years of Wolf 359!! ] 💫📻

In celebration, @avesmonster and I have spent this year organizing an anthology of fanworks, and I'm so happy to finally be able to share it. It's such a labor of love from everyone involved, and it's incredible to see how passionate people still are about this show. We received over 50 (!!) submissions, both old and new, so please, please check it out, let everyone know how awesome their work is, & leave a comment on our guestbook, while you're there!!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Danse Macabre

[Commission]

[dreamaruu]

Hello RvBGTBQ+ community

[pulsingvoid]

god the pilot had the tone down. nat trips on acid pre-crash and sees her creepy classmate misty across the flames in a way that could just as easily be misty stalking her/the team from the outskirts as it could be a hallucination (i go back and forth on this all the time). then the bonfire turns into the fire from their cannibalistic rituals in the wilderness which seemingly implies that nat sees into the future for a moment but it could just be part of the nonlinear editing. pj harvey's eerie down by the water holds you by the hand and pulls you in deeper as the screen gets engulfed in flames. such a loaded and dualistic and tone-setting sequence. i want to live inside it

[azurityarts]

when the song is so good you just wanna 🥁🥁🥁

[arthursfuckinghat]

So, I was nosing around the gang's tents and I thought that it was honestly so sweet that so many of them have photographs of themselves or of family right?

Little baby Charles with his parents, a young Susan, young Hosea and Bessie, but then I found something interesting in that pile of junk down the cliff just behind Arthur's tent-

Dutch actually writes notes for his famous camp speeches.

And if you've seen the speech that these notes are referring to, Dutch seemed to simplify it a lot when he recited it, almost dumbing it down for the gang entirely?

Writing notes for an important speech isn't the strange part, but the fact he dumbs them down and that these notes are hidden/thrown away out of sight is really strange to me. It makes me think that this is possibly a rough draft or early version of what he wanted the speech to be, sort of implying that Dutch practices and revises his speeches.

Which, if he ultimately dumbs them down for the gang, then what is the point?

The likely answer is that he holds himself to a higher standard because he feels he's above the gang members, in a way. He's the visionary, the leader, the man in charge, the one who reads philosophy books almost exclusively, to say that Dutch didn't think highly of himself would be a lie. And because the gang is 'below' him, he simplifies his speeches for them - despite majority of the gang being well educated and understanding. He doesn't think that the gang is as intellectual as him.

I made a post previously talking about Dutch and his Evelyn Miller philosophies and how he argues with gang members that don't agree or understand. It's especially interesting how Lenny, also an avid reader, disagrees so strongly with Miller's writings when that's what most of Dutch's philosophies are based on.

It solidifies that Dutch was manipulative from the beginning, and probably long before too.