#no that never happened why do you ask

[official-linguistics-post]

Yessss Zotero user!!🖐️ Help me spread the world, persuade people that source managers are good (side-eye to my gf who insists it's fiiiiiine to write a thesis without one...)

CITATION MANAGER EVANGELISM UPON REQUEST

i picked up zotero right when i started graduate school (i can't remember why i chose that one specifically, but i do know i liked it better than mendeley). i have every single reference i used across coursework, exams, dissertation, and publications, which is literally hundreds of items.

not only does it let you keep the citations themselves, you can use libraries, folders, and tagging systems for organization, and zotero allows file attachment (either natively using zotero's cloud storage or linked to a local source), notetaking to a linked document, AND annotation within the program.

i got the most use out of its ms word plugin since that's where i wrote literally everything. every time i added a new citation, i could just zap it in with zotero and the manager would keep track of every reference. at the end, it let me drop the entire formatted reference section right into the document.

the only time it ever failed me was trying to reformat my dissertation references to school standards, and that was probably more the result of my own lack of csl editing knowledge than zotero itself.

please, if you are juggling many references or will be in the future, invest the time in a citation manager.

[doctorsiren]

I loved your headcannons about inukawa, reigen and reigens sister and I would really like to see what you think would happen if mob and reigens sister met and I was wondering if you could possibly draw them :D

hello yes I accidentally made a comic after seeing this ask yesterday 😁 bro psychoanalyzed her 😨

[claraoswalds]

#mrs flood who are you: time lord edition

[izel-scribbles]

the one part of malevolent that i will consistently cry over is part 20 when arthur recites the poem he wrote about his parents. like i’m never gonna be normal about it.

[arttsuka]

what’s the bad ending to mer-fidd?

Getting cannibalised by Bill probably

[halflifebutawesome]

you used to be such a baby.

[whump-queen]

Silver

tags: forced intox, manhandling, "servant" whump but lets be honest he's basically a pet

-----------

Seven could smell the sharp sting of tequilia on Wes’ breath before he even saw the bottle.  

“Open up, servant.” Wes smiled and leaned in, forcing the stench further into Seven’s face, making him nearly gag at what he knew was coming. God he could already taste it. 

Seven tried to pull away, but a heavy hand found the back of his neck and harshly gripped his hair, holding him fast while the other hand messily shoved the bottle of silver upward and forced it past Seven’s lips. 

Seven knew not to struggle. He how to close his nose without plugging it by now. He’d hold his breath. He’d hold his—fuck. It burned in his empty stomach instantly. 

Considering all the occasions Wes had forced his servant to drink, Seven should’ve been an expert at this. But experience didn’t mean his nights went without mishap, and just because he knew how to drink it down for a few sips, it didn’t mean Wes would let up this time, forcing him to take gulp after excruciating fiery gulp until his mind was screaming for oxygen and for the poison to stop. Just stop. 

He could feel hot tears running down his face. He needed to breathe. It took everything in him to swallow and not fucking wretch as soon as Wes yanked the bottle away. Oxygen hit his lungs and he gasped for breath until he felt lightheaded.

“Can’t waste it all on a fucking servant,” Wes sneered, releasing his fingers from Seven’s hair, roughly tousling it instead. The force of his hand made the room spin and Seven could already feel it hitting him. Burning away deep his stomach and making his face feel hot and tingly. 

Wes turned away and Seven instantly grasped the wall, taking a few agonizing deep breaths, just trying so hard not to throw up. 

He’d done that before. On a night much like this one, and Wes had made him clean it all up while still nearly blacked out, promising that the next time, he’d clean it with his tongue. 

So Seven braced himself against the wall and tried to focus on his breath. He inhaled. God fuck. He exhaled. Fuck. He was going to gag.

Water.

He needed water.

This was going to be a long night. 

.

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series masterlist

[the-girl-with-too-many-ideas]

You know, from the perspective of the SVSSS world, Shen Yuan and the system would be regarded as Lovecraftian horrors if you think about it.

[plaid-maniac]

Do you ever think about how there totally could have been an old classmate of Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth in the audience during like turnabout sister or turnabout samurai. Do you think they would realize? Like “hey, were those the guys in my class in like fourth grade? I kinda remember them. Wonder if they remember each other. But it was so long ago, I doubt they would even care.” Meanwhile Edgeworth and Phoenix are undergoing the most insane mental battles where both of them are going “I recognize my best friend across the courtroom and I desperately want to be close with them again.” And “god he is so god damn annoying I wish he would die already.”

[junebugtwin]

haven't posted some of my own art here in a hot sec so heres a random oc (not related to worm).

still trying to come up with a name for her but the concept for her is that she's like the big bad of an imaginary childrens book/tv show- with the intended age range of like gravity falls or animorphs.

long ramblings on her below:

her Backstory (tm) is kind of complicated but to sum it up she was the girlfriend of this guy who was like the Chosen One of this prophecy and she's his tragically fridged girlfriend who he had to sacrifice in order to stop the big bad (who just so happened to be her brother) from gaining too much power and potentially destroying the world.

In order to stop her brother he 'had' to lock him in this dungeon in hell (don't worry about it) which would drain his life force. Unfortunately there wasn't enough time to convince her to leave her brother to die so she had to get locked in there as well.

so basically she was stuck in a creepy dungeon with her brothers corpse for potentially forever- unless she figured out a way to get out. She did eventually by studying her brothers arcane tattoos and sort of brute force replicating them until she could figure out a way to magically escape the catacombs. Of course this was a sort of out of the frying pan into the fire situation because after escaping she was still very much stuck in hell.

In this universe hell is like a dimension that's parallel to ours that's not really meant for people- even existing there is fatal to most people. Her newly gained magic was enough to stop her from dying but as she explored hell looking for a way out she found her body slowly changing. Becoming pale and then almost blue tinted, her eyes greying and pupil narrowing, her hair falling out. But the real change came when she hurt herself accidentally and instead of bleeding she cracked and instead of muscle she found something worse lurking underneath her skin- a sagging bloated corpse, waiting to be exposed.

The roots are an invention of hers- they helped her suck up the ambient magical energy in hells air so she could survive without food or water- of course, they were meant to be summoned from her palm, not sprout from her cracks, but beggars can't be choosers.

When she finally escaped hell she found that instead of struggling to filter hells toxic energy into scraps of something usable, her roots sucked up the plentiful mana of the overworld with abandon- suddenly she was more powerful than those who had spent their life studying arcana.

Now a days she spends her time gathering a group of loyal followers with the goal of taking down the magical society that she thinks wronged her and her brother- the magic itself is not a problem, but clearly people aren't great at using it responsibly. And whose idea was it to teach a bunch of teenagers how to commit magical war crimes anyway? Get a job or a hobby or something, she's taking away the magic toys until you people know how to use them.

[mechazushi]

Calm Before The Storm {A Kn8 short story} [Directly inspired by Ch. 117] soooooo...spoilers

Kneeling on a pillow before a low peach wood desk, settled a man. A powerful man with a powerful presence, having long hair and dressed in dark purple robes with woven black silk and kaiju armor, fitting for a high ranking kaiju killer. He continued to write, unbothered by the audience before him. Standing at attention beside the official was a soldier in full regalia, his face obscured into anonymity.

"If that is everything, then everyone is dismised." Soshiro Hoshina, leader of the Hoshina clan, commanded to the squad leaders he had summoned to his personal office.

While the rest had bowed graciously and filed out in-sync, one had decidedly stayed behind against orders. Konomi Okonogi, an lower ranked advisor to the clan had stood unshaken before the forth son of the Hoshinas. She was waiting quietly for him to acknowledge her on his own. A small moment passed, filled with the quiet swishing and slicing of a stiff brush gliding over paper. The soldier, noticing that the advisor hadn't left had also noticed his commander refusing to acknowledge the wayward interloper. The soldier let out a muffled cough as a cover for him to disguise a nudge to his higher officer with his foot. Being jarred from his concentration on official paperwork, Soshiro finally decided to address the nosy advisor in the room.

"Is there something to be left said, Miss Okonogi? As you can see, everyone else had left."

"Yes, there is." The locally stationed advisor stated, "It's about your continued decision to employ someone with... lackluster talents as your personal guard. Your family remains ever concern about such choices."

"And they will continue to worry as they are prone to do so as blood relatives." Hoshina finally looked up from his work and looked at the advisor fully, "They may question it all they like, but it will not change the fact that I have made it." He looked back down dismissively to begin again on his paperwork.

"Since the fourth son of a somewhat prominent family is not in that high of demand, my guard's skills are sufficient enough for his task which, need I remind you, is escorting me across town to my family's manor and back. Nothing more." He resumed the meditative writing as a way of making his point clear and matter resolved.

Okonogi sniffed stiffly as she took the transgression silently. She bowed nonetheless and shuffled herself out the office door. After closing it behind her, the soldier let out a low sigh of relief. Hoshina chuckled to himself, somehow finding all of it funny.

"Ya know, for a group of people ya hardly see, they sure like to press on personal matters." The soldier finally spoke when he felt the sudden tension leave his shoulders.

"They're not pressing the matter, she is." Soshiro sighed as he started the process of cleaning up his brush, "She's being paid to question any decision I make that doesn't sound like any my family would make themselves." Hanging the brush on a rack and shuffling some items on his desk around for cleanliness sake, the commander eventually lifted himself from his kneeling position and let out a long and low groan as he stretched, satisfied.

"Come along, darling. After leading training and all of that paperwork, I feel a deep need for a cleansing." Soshiro said as he slid his hands into his oversized sleeves.

"I've told you not to call me that." The soldier's warning was muffled through the clay face mask he wore.

"Oh please, we're the only people on his side of the manor now. And in a few minutes, I get to call you whatever I want." Hoshina retaliated with a hint of joy undercutting the mocking statement.

The two of them filed out of the small office, the commander in front and his loyal body guard never far behind. It was well past sunset and the sky made it clear it was reaching late dusk. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the paper doors that lined the long hallway to the natural hot spring located on premises. Once they entered the outdoor bath and had closed the door, making sure it couldn't be opened easily, only then did the energy in the air begin to waver. It changed from official and stale, to feeling charged, almost teetering on playful or mischievous.

Soshiro found a lit candle on a nearby stool and followed his guard as they walked the stone path that lined the edge of the spring. Kafka did his part of unhooking metal lanterns that hung from tall wooden post high in the air and brought them down to chest level for Soshiro to light them. After making certain that any night breeze wouldn't extinguish the little flame easily, did Kafka hang the lantern back up and move on. They made a full lap around the spring and walked back to the front of the bath. Soshiro tugged on one end of a strip of leather that held back most of the glossy locks that draped from his regal head and sighed as its weight shifted.

"Well, are you going to help me or not?" The commander tittered playfully as he stoked his hair over his shoulder. He watched his soldier tug at the strings holding his face mask in place. A hand came up to rub away the thin sheen of sweat that had built up under it as the other placed the mask on a table.

"One of these days' we're gonna get caught because of your impatience" The soldier said as he made himself see clearly again.

Dropping the mask revealed the man underneath to be Kafka Hibino, once a lowly foot soldier in the Monkey squad, now currently having the coveted position of being Soshiro Hoshina's personal escort and body guard. A position he wasn't aiming for, but with how his relationship with the fourth son of the Hoshina's was going, it wasn't one he minded terribly. While it was blatant favoritism that earned him the position, it was clear to the both of them that it could never be trusted to anyone else. He began to walk over to where Soshiro was waiting patiently to have help removing the heavy Kaiju-leather plates that make up a hunter's armor.

"If you keep talking about it, eventually you'll make it so. I almost wonder if you want it to happen." Soshiro sang with a honeyed tone.

"It will happen if you don't fix the problem of not being able to keep your hands to yourself." Kafka stated as he began to mess with the ties holding the pauldrons to his shoulders. He smirked as he chuckled in his mind, thinking about all the times he had to stop his commander from launching himself across tables at people, from starting duels in the street, or making sure he didn't get caught with his hand snaking their way onto his body guard's... person.

"I haven't ever heard you complain about it before." His commander said with mock admonishment. He held onto the discarded pauldrons as Kafka began to work on the belts holding the chest piece in place. "Maybe it just means we're both rotten to the core." Hoshina continued to tease as he leaned back closer to Kafka's chest.

"It's not hard to be influenced by you when you make yourself so inviting." Kafka hummed as he leaned in closer to Soshiro's ear, "I just consider myself lucky that I'm the only one my commander had decided to make himself a completely vulnerable fool in front of." He whispered as his hands traveled southward, past the belt that held up the lower portion of armor and unexpectedly squeezed his partner's upper thigh.

Soshiro jabbed him with his elbow in retaliation, causing the two of them to giggle and make Kafka lose his grip on the belt. He finished with his task and helped remove the chest plate afterward. Once he gathered all the removed armor and set them on the table, did he offer himself up to his commander for the same courtesy. Kafka let him pull at the strings holding his helmet in place, the both of them knowing full well that he could do it himself. They knew as well that Soshiro liked the opportunity to hold his lover's face in his hands.

After taking off the helmet, Kafka took it out of Soshiro's hands so his could be free to caress his. A face marked with long healed scars and patchy scruff, it was a face he found only his commander seemed to truly love. Fingertips traced the edges of its rough details while eyes drank in its softer ones. The small maze of wrinkles that lined his lips and brow, those gem-like blue-green eyes that could melt snow capped mountains or freeze them solid, and that warmth of a good soul that seemed to seep from every piece of contact his lover's hands could make on his face. These details were expressed to him, time and time again, but he never believed them until he heard it straight from his commander's honest lips.

One hand removed itself from the helmet it was holding so it could trap Hoshina's and bring it closer to his lips, allowing a moment where Kafka could drink in the other's essence as well. Savoring the cool skin on his and smelling the ink and leather oil sunk deep into Soshiro's natural perfume, permanently etching his presence onto the ridges of Kafka's mind. He sniffed and sighed and kissed it lightly before he let it go. Kafka liked to watch intently as those same hands roamed his body, giving him the same care and attention to his armor that he gave to his commander. It wasn't long before he was stripped of his armor as well. He took it from Soshiro as laid it to rest next to the other pile on the table.

Hoshina began to busy himself with removing the cloth robes that remained, not giving them any loving courtesy like the armor was given. They were quickly shed onto the stones before Soshiro stepped foot into the searing warmth of the spring water. Dunking his head in, he resurfaced swiftly and smoothed away some errant strands of hair from his vision. He began to tug on the last of the leather strip that held the rest of his hair back as he watched Kafka from the borders of the spring. As it all fell down heavily, Soshiro busied his hands with sweeping it behind his shoulders while he continued to rudely gawk at his partner undressing.

He had seen that man naked more times than he had seen himself, and he never tired from the view. Strong muscle wrapped and coiled around the soldier's arms while his torso held a softer image. Hoshina knew better than to doubt that rounded appearance, having seen and certainly felt what that upper body was capable of. His tongue darted out and swiped across his lips in reaction to seeing the top shirt being removed fully and folded onto the table. He moved closer to the rounded stone skirting of the small pool and saddled up to the edge in quiet anticipation. As Kafka's hands reached to waist of his pants, they stilled as he developed the familiar sensation of being watched.

"Do you really have to stare at me every time I undress?" Kafka called back, not bothering to turn around to confirm his suspicions.

"Do you have to act like a bashful maiden every time I do?" Soshiro teased as he stayed rooted to his spot.

Hoshina found himself biting his lip as Kafka just sighed and removed the rest of his clothing. He moved out of the way as Kafka strode over and began to act as if he was about to enter the pool, only to sweep the discarded robes off the floor and smirked coyly at Soshiro as he walked away with them

"I don't know why it bothers you so much. It's not like I haven't had you under me or anything." Soshiro teased back as he watched Kafka continue to put away the discarded attire.

"You start up that kind of attitude this early and I'm leaving." Kafka grumbled as his cheeks flushed bright red.

"If you're not in the mood, just say so." His commander pouted as he turned away from him in slacking scorn.

"Only because I'd like a chance to actually relax first." Kafka said with easy-going indignance. He returned to the pool holding the jade comb they used whenever they came to the spring together. Soshiro scoffed, but shifted himself into position anyway as his partner carefully splashed his way in.

"It would work that way as well. Hell's, I'd like to think that you would end up more relaxed by the time I was done." he joked as he leaned back into Kafka's awaiting lap, propping himself up between his knees.

"You're incorrigible." Kafka sighed as he shook his head.

He spent the passing time slowly raking the comb through the long silken strands of Soshiro's hair, taking care to brush slowly and chip away at any knots going from bottom to top. After making sure it was free of tangles, did he take more of their time combing through it all in long passes, just to savor the feeling. Soshiro reveled in the attention, never not once hating the feeling of being attended to like this. Sure, he had servants help him dress in the morning and even do his hair, but none of it felt the same as when it was done by someone he loved. Every few passes of the comb, he would feel short nails caress and scritch as his scalp, removing an itch that he didn't realize was even there. On windless nights, Soshiro could hear a deep, reverberating hum from the depths of Kafka's chest, usually a marching chant or a drinking hymn. The repeated, loving motions, the all-encompassing blanket of warmth, paired with the harmony of the wind and leaves matching the water and waves lapping at the stone beat for beat. Hoshina would willingly go penny-less and destitute, sick and infirm, if it meant he got to keep these moments forever.

Deep in the cavern of his blissfully silent mind, it took a while for Soshiro to notice that Kafka had stopped brushing and took up plaiting the infinite length. To be honest, he wasn't a fan of it. Leaving in the braid too long usually bent it into weak crimps and he could already hear the judging murmurs of his servants who had to deal with it in the morning. He was aware that Kafka was just the type of person who always felt the need to keep his hands busy. A trait that benefited him when it came to squad relations. Rarely was there ever an idle task when Kafka was released from his body guard duties. It was just how he spent his time relaxing, but did Kafka really have to take it out on his hair?

"You're doing it again." Soshiro muttered lazily, not bothering to stop his lover.

"I know." Kafka responded simply, the smile unmistakable in his soft voice.

"You know everyone hates it when you do that." The commander sighed. He heard a puffy chuckle before Kafka responded.

"Do you know why I do it anyway?" he said as he held his hand out for the leather hair tie.

"Mmm... Humor me." Soshiro softly moaned and he began to feel those gentle hands move again.

"Because no one knows it's me." He whispered, "Because it makes your hair do a fun little dance for me as I follow you around. It's something I do to you that lets me remember that I'm yours." He finished curling the long braid around itself into a snug bun and cinched it up with the leather cord

"And you're mine." Kafka tacked on tenderly, along with a quick peck to an unsuspecting commander's forehead.

"Well then... I guess I can't bring myself to hate it as well." Soshiro declared as he lifted himself to a higher sitting position.

"Especially after hearing something so sweet." He scooted himself more fully into Kafka's lap and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

Their lips touched and moved languidly against each other. No need to rush or to stop was felt when they started, and there wouldn't be for the rest of all their night together. Such was the case when two lovers fell into a wanting dance. Kafka softly sighed as his partner's hand tugged at the hairs of his nape and soothingly massaged the back of his neck. Soshiro beamed as he felt his soldier's sharp teeth and pointed canines pull teasingly at his lower lip, causing a breathy giggle. Hibino broke away from the dance first, deciding to slowly lavish a trail of wet kissed down the taut plains of Hoshina's neck. He tasted the sulfur of the water and the salt of the sweat as he savored the journey to the hard edges of his bath-mate's bare shoulder.

It was there that Kafka decided to stop his conquest and inhale his lover's scent once again. Breathing deep and slow, he made his mind expand and bask in all that he could feel, all he could sense. His arms unconsciously tightened around Soshiro's waist as a wisp of melancholy seeped into his heart. His nose nuzzling its way back up the path he made on the neck felt very much different from the moments they were making before. Hoshina dug deep into his will to separate their chests from each other so he could look his love in the eyes. He felt his smile carry a hint of the melancholy that had seemed to enter Kafka's heart as well as invaded the sanctity of his expressive face. A hand traveled from Kafka's broad chest to tease the corner of his lips into a happier expression.

"Your mind is very loud again. It's practically coming out of your eyes." Soshiro huffed quietly as he continued to watch the other's face shift through different shades of the same emotion.

"It's just... this... the world... something's been feeling off lately. Like this isn't going to last forever." Kafka's voice rumbled with the weight that he had been feeling on his shoulders.

"You're manifesting again." Soshiro called back, thinking a joke would help lighten the mood.

"It doesn't feel like that. More so like a... premonition. A gut feeling that's arrived and hasn't left." Kafka brought his face closer, rubbing his nose against Soshiro's and sought comfort and warmth in their closeness, "I keep waking up in the morning, thinking that it's going to be the last time I get to see you. It scares me."

"I would rather be stabbed through the heart before I let things stay that way between us." His lover affirmed solidly as he brought both of his hands to cage Kafka's face, "This isn't coming from what Miss Okonogi said earlier about my family, is it?"

"I wish its origins were that simple. I've had this feeling for a while now." Kafka's gaze softened even more as he basked in their continued embrace.

"If that feeling gets worse, I want you to remind yourself of one thing." Soshiro spoke softly, treating each word like a fragile feather.

"And what's that?" Kafka whispered back, a flicker of hope sparkling in the shape of his lips twitching into a smile.

"No matter what comes, no matter what happens, may it be something trivial, or the ending of the world, I will be yours." Soshiro placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of Kafka's nose as he continued to promise, "And I will find you no matter where, no matter when, and tell you that, over and over again. In as many different ways as needed until you never feel like this again."

They continued to indulge in each other's comforting presence until their tired minds couldn't take being awake anymore. Even as Kafka felt his mind be overtaken with the inescapable need for sleep, his mind echoed his partner's sentiment over and over again. He knew those words were true, and knew better than to doubt a promise from his commander and lover, but it affected little to the growing fear that leeched onto the fibers of his emotions. One thing he said did seep in however. He knew, really and truly knew, that they would find each other. Again and again.

No matter what.

[tsireyast]

I feel like we dont talk about one of the main reasons nico was ostracized at camp, not just because hes a son of hades.

Camp half blood is small enough so that rumors and information spread fast, but that doesn't mean they are always right. So imagine you're a random camper, and you're told nico, one of the new campers, gets in a big fight with Percy. During which he makes skeletons appear and somehow opens a huge crack in the floor. But percy wins and nico leaves camp.

Don't you think it would've rang a bell?

Don't you think it would've reminded them too much of two summers ago, with luke?

Dont you think everyone would've been even more scared, because now they know nico is a child of hades, one of the big three, and therefore very powerful?

There must have been so many rumors that summer of nico being part of the kronos army. Betraying camp just like luke did.

Of course after the battle of manhattan many people would've changed their minds. Hes in their side now, after all. But there are probably still many campers who think nico left them to join luke, before he changed their mind and helped them win against luke and kronos. People who still hold a grudge against him for joining the "enemy".

[moeblob]

You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia

Why did Gary growl and cover Efnisien's face/mouth when he said the safeword? Was he angry and trying to stop Efnisien from saying it so he could continue? If yes how did he manage to pull himself back from the brink of doing something unforgivable?

I think Gary was so uncoordinated in that moment, he wasn't thinking 'I need to shut you up' but there was definitely an instinct of: 'How dare someone tell me to stop.'

There was a visceral war with himself when he growls vs. when he places his hand on Efnisien's face, almost like he's trying to feel his breathing and his voice. It's a very quick motion, and while Efnisien assumes it's to shut him up, I actually think Gary was literally very out of it in that moment and was kind of bracing himself to even understand what happened.

Like, this is a guy who didn't respond to a lot of basic language and sentences for three days, or when he did, mostly could only do so in basic sentences or even single words. So while the peak alpha grokked the 'how dare you' pause, I think it was like a 'wait is an alpha trying to stop me from taking what is mine' level of confusion. He places his hands on Efnisien's face, almost like he's trying to find where the words came from, in my mind. Like someone who is blind who is trying to find a fan switch in a new place. They don't quite know where it is, but they know it's important in hot weather.

He then does hear more of Efnisien's voice (in the form of a distressed shriek) and immediately stops.

I really don't think this is as clean as 'he was fully aware, heard something he didn't want to hear, and made a choice to make sure Efnisien couldn't safeword again.' I don't even think he knew at the time what he heard, or how to understand it, only that he heard it and that he had to stop.

If yes how did he manage to pull himself back from the brink of doing something unforgivable?

Tbh Gary has the safeword to literally stop himself from doing the unforgiveable. And he does it with an immense amount of willpower that almost no human will ever really comprehend. Dude was barely even conscious at the time. Just like Efnisien spent many hours in a heavily dissociated receptive headspace, Gary does the same but from a more dominating peak alpha side. Literally just ruled by hormones in a very primitive way.

I'd say he's one of the only peak alphas in the world who can actually listen to a safeword at all in that state. I don't even think Temsen could.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

sometimes doing art is a random person coming by u and winking at u and u absolutely do not know what they're doing that about at all. and sometimes they tell u and ur like that's so beautiful that u've found that in my art but I didnt put it in there

[introspectivememories]

do you ever think about how marco is one of the last people who knows how close shanks and buggy once were? do you think he ever looks at shanks and instinctively searches for buggy? i bet you marco looks at shanks surrounded by his crew and still thinks that shanks looks lonely. because back then, you could never find one without the other. if you insulted shanks, you insulted buggy and vice versa. they were attached at the hip. if you got one of them alone, you better savor it because in the next five minutes, the other one would come find them. like in my heart i know every time marco sees shanks these days all he thinks is where's the rest of you?