#hmm. feelings

[wanologic]

always good to keep a screamhole handy

[an-ruraiocht]

sometimes people take attempts at historical nuance regarding terminology to mean "people didn't use these words to describe these identities and behaviours, but these identities and behaviours still existed, because they are fundamental truths of what it means to be human", rather than "we map our current conception of identities and behaviours with these words but they are not labels that can be straightforwardly applied to past experiences of the world because identities, behaviours, and conceptions of how those fit together are culturally and historically specific" and it. frustrates me

i don't think there is a concrete external reality of sexuality that we are merely creating labels to describe. i think the fundamental experience of sexuality is shaped by the labels and ideas available to us. people will always exist who don't conform to the norms of their time and will drive the development of new terms and new ideas but they do that within their own context not because of some like........ ontological pattern

[kara-zor-els]

DC truly refuses to send any superhero off to college anymore

[pulsingvoid]

an ever-growing collection

[spongebob-connoisseur]

People like to characterize human Spongebob as some waifish barely 20 years old looking twink but honestly I think he'd be more like Pat from the UK version of Ghosts.

The shorts, the passion for what he does and his craft, the dorky glasses, the positive and all forgiving attitude, the knee high socks, the love of nature and the outdoors, the tie, the love for his friends and family, the shoes, the love of pranks, the OVERALL WHOLESOMENESS AND GOOD NATURE

[ell-vellan]

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe. Sera: I bet, right? Who wants to think about stepping on dead elves? Solas: Din elvhen emma him? Sera: Oh, you felt that one.

SO. This dialogue.

Setting aside that this is a running theme with Solas/Sera banter - that he trying to persuade/push her into becoming something more, either more Elvish or more of a leader, which may or may not just be Solas messing with her in return for her putting lizards in his bedroll - I was curious about the Elvish that he speaks here.

In the wiki, it says "din elvhen emma him?" is "meaning unknown." Which is curious because don't we know the meaning of these words separately, already?

(Stop me if this has been done before; I'm no expert.)

din = dead/death, not/isn't, "someone who is not". Falon = friend, Falon'din = friend of the dead, makes sense.

Elvhen = "Our People," the collective term for the elven race

emma = my, mine, i am, or within/full of.

him = become.

Taken altogether literally, "dead our people mine become." Elvish isn't a literal language, it's very figurative, with multiple possible meanings based on context.

Solas mutters this under his breath with disgust after Sera's disregard of his people's deaths. (For me, this dialogue happened in the Emerald Graves, though I don't know if it's location-specific; either way, he obviously finds this very disrespectful.)

I propose this phrase is Solas saying to himself something along the lines of, "My people died to become this?"

Which is. Yeah.

[gabelew]

I drew the first image of Link and Bazz drinking and chilling together and then it spiraled

What can I say, I just really like watching these two interact, and I think Bazz is weirdly uniquely qualified to relate to at least some of Link's internal drama.

[hai-nae]

uno reverse

[starscream-is-my-wife]

“Stop making AUs of a cut plot from 40 years ago” I tell my crazed mind but it would not stop

[solargeist]

watchers and listeners

[jesuistrestriste]

cw : fingering, coming untouched (18+)

—

art donaldson is an empathetic lover.

he feels what you feel, regardless of how much stimulation his own body is getting. just watching you melt and sink into a milky bath of pleasure is enough to have his head swimming and his cock swelling. it’s more than enough.

so he’s perfectly content with laying you down in bed every night after he’s stripped you bare, your skin a canvas for his lips and teeth and tongue, and hovering above you while he begins thumbing your bundle of nerves. when your brow pinches up and you let out a soft squeal, his brow pinches too. he mimics your body involuntarily—reflexively. his jaw slacks when your lips part, and he starts to moan with you. his breathing syncing with yours as he rocks into the inside of his zipper.

he slides two of his fingers into you soon after and begins curling them upwards to play with that warm, spongy spot nestled in your walls. he keens when your back arches up and he leans forward to press his face into your neck. his free hand cups the back of your head.

“are you gonna come for me?” he whimpers, “i want you to come, baby.. you’re so wet f’me..”

and a nod from you is all that it takes for him to start properly abusing your g-spot, pushing his digits in to their knuckles as he feels your hole convulse around his touch. gushes of your essence fill his palm and he wants nothing more than to pause and drink it, slurping and lapping it from the bowl of his touch like a man dying of thirst, but he knows you’re close. he can wait.

your trembling hips begin to stutter and grind against his movements as he uses his thumb to resume playing with your sensitive bud, circling it under his fingerprint. his gut is brimming with thrums of heat just from smelling and hearing and touching you like this.

fuck, it’s always enough.

he nips at your neck, and then he hears your strangled cry echo out into the room just before he feels you clamp down on him. your hands scramble for the back of his tee shirt and fist it as you find your release; hot, exhausting, overwhelming, almost too much. he’s hit with his own not a moment later.

“oh god—“ he whines, his pelvis jumping as his dick twitches and gushes in his clothing, his fingers relentlessly working you through your climax.

art keeps it up until you’re boneless and shaky on the sheets, your body only moving to jerk with overstimulation when his touch swipes over your spent clit. he loves pulling back to watch you revel in the afterglow. you’re something straight out of a poem. an ocean after a hurricane. a field after the first kiss of rain in months. a volcano after eruption; suffocating smoke and impossible heat.

he moves his free hand from your head to your stomach, caressing down it as he pulls back from your core. shushes you tenderly when you whimper from the emptiness.

he’s fine with doing this every night, and he never asks for anything in return.

why?

because it’s all he wants.

and you give him everything he needs.

[laurellala-comics]

I finished watching a playthrough of the first Apollo Justice game WAAAAH NOBODY TALK TO ME I'M EMOTIONAL WAAAAAH THAT WAS SOOO SO EPIC AND GOOD. I'll draw nice things later, for now take these sillies

[new-reno]

[chiricat]

assorted wips again

1. anchan space buns!!

2. emo arisato twins + ryomina and akiham

3. mzen x p3

4. suzalulu sketch dump

5. suzalulu + souyo (eng voice actor joke)

[rongzhi]

(Additional) English added by me :)

[sukunasbow]

college art and patrick giving you oral at the same time ; mdni

when you first suggested the idea after a night out at a pub, art and patrick thought you were insane. there’s always been tension looming between the three of you, although the idea of acting on it never seemed like a possibility.

the next day, however, when the two boys were sitting on the bleachers and watching you stretch before your tennis match, they turned to face each other with knowing looks on their faces.

now, you’re sitting on the edge of your small dorm bed, your legs spread as far as possible.

“are you sure this is okay?” you breathe out, asking the two boys as they kneel between your legs, their shoulders pressed together.

“yes.” they reply in unison, their eyes lighting up with a sense of eagerness.

you place your right hand in art’s hair and your left hand in patrick’s hair, wordlessly signalling for them to continue.

art makes the first move, gently kissing up your thigh before sticking out his tongue and flattening it, licking a stripe along the folds of your wet cunt.

“fuck.” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as art moves his tongue to your clit, tracing circles on the sensitive bud.

“art, move over a little.” patrick interrupts your moans with his sharp tone. “play nice, share with me.”

art keeps his tongue on your clit but moves over slightly, following patrick’s demands. unlike the blonde boy, patrick doesn’t bother slowly making his way towards your cunt. instead, he immediately darts his tongue out, flicking it along your clit, making contact with art’s tongue.

it takes the two boys a moment to work out a rhythm and get used to their tongues so close together, but once they do, it feels like paradise for you.

your back arches and you can’t hold back your desperate moans. “oh my, fuck! yes.” you swear you sound like a porn star, but the pleasure takes over any common sense you have about being too vocal.

art opens his eyes and shifts his gaze to sneak a look at patrick, who’s flicking his tongue on your clit even faster. the blonde was already hard as he licked your pussy, but now he feels like a teenager again, as if he could cum just from the sight of patrick devouring you like it’s his last meal on death row.

as if patrick could feel the blonde eye fucking him, he glances at art, still working on getting you to climax.

you look down at them, curiosity taking over your facial expression as art stops his movements on your cunt, simply panting while staring at patrick, his shallow breaths hitting your cunt and sending shivers down your spine. “what’s wrong?” you breathe out, your eyes glazing over as a knot tightens in your stomach.

just as you’re about to cum, patrick and art lock their mouths together, their tongues clashing on your clit as they start making out, eliciting even more pleasure from your body.

“patrick, art…fuck, i’m so close.” your words seem to only motivate the two of them as they pick up the pace of their tongues in desperation. “you’re both so fucking hot.” you moan.

the knot in your stomach gets even tighter and after a few seconds, your thighs shake and your mouth parts as the knot releases and you cum on their tongues.

patrick and art pull away from in between your thighs, still kneeling beside each other, a mixture of their spit and your cum left over on their lips and chins.

“i think we should do this again, hm?” you give them a small smirk.

they look up at you intensely, then they turn their heads to look at each other, “yeah.”