#sO

[quondamprolix]

Insert meaningful anecdote here

You ever been in a state where you physically have no energy, but you're bored and socially understimulated so you kind of wish you could just invite people to come over like this:

[starmocha]

Zayne's pretty, slender fingers driving into you until he is coated in your juice and licking his fingers clean as you watch and throb for more of him.

Xavier's hands holding your face sweetly as he kisses you while fucking you not-so-sweetly and showing that his angel face hides a more sinful side of him that is only for you.

Rafayel's veiny hands exploring your body, memorizing all the ways he could have you writhing and moaning for him to claim you in a way only a god knows how.

Sylus' gigantic hands gripping your thighs and keeping you spread for him to use you like a fucktoy, to have you until your body knows to only crave him, only wants to be conquered by him.

[mx-giraffe]

bro wore the gayest outfit known to man and thought we wouldn't notice

[carlostck]

@garmaballs @cable-salamdr 💥💥💥💥💥💥

GRRGBRGRBGERBBBJKBAA HHAWDHLJABAWBWDARIOYRAWIOURRAGHGHHGHG !!! !!!

Maria and her little alien brother sketchbook dump from the last few weeks

Minor spoilers for Sonic 3 ig

[koerinz]

boy and his lil imaginary friend

[angelpuns]

pov i did in fact get a (v cheap) cane to see if it helped any but I'm??? apprehensive about using it or telling anyone about it cause im?? Idk if it will improve my life but it's a temporary solution until I can go to the doctor. Anyway this is just me telling someone( the internet) about it cause it frankly should not be this big of a deal. It just is cause that's the type of person I am. I mean- my friends can attest to me not being able to stand or walk for long periods of time, I just don't want them to??? i don't wanna say judge me, but maybe think I am being dramatic?? It really is temporary to see if it helps so. Idk. I know they probably wouldn't but man im just.ragh. I also was under the assumption that canes are just for support when walking but apparently nthey are also helpful if you have trouble standing. good to know cause that's where most of my issues lie. walking sucks too but I can usually deal cause im too focused on other things such as 'dont get hit by car' and 'dont let knees get too straight'

ALSO SIDE NOTE I WILL BE GOING TO A DOCTOR SOMETIME AFTER JANUARY IM JUST LITERALLY TOO BUSY AND POOR RN TO DO SO

[thatonecrazysidekick]

I drew these a couple days ago and forgot to post them, so take a Marin and Link (or LU Legend) swap AU!!

I dunno why this came to me, as I've never played LA (sadly), but it was fun to try and create new designs!! Even if the coloring didn't always turn out the way I wanted...*cough* Marin's face and chain mail *cough*

[garmaballs]

Hey tumblr. I am still alive. take something that will never be finished while i revamp my blog. Now goodbye.

[independent-variables]

really interesting to me the way fox fans seem to be divided into those writing him as a slave suffering under the system and those writing him as a cop perpetuating the system. when like. fox is both.

firstly fox is a soldier. fox is a soldier but because he is a soldier he is also a cop and also a slave. the cg is a police force the same way the gar is a military: technically yes but also not at all. we all understand a person can be both a victim and a perpetrator of abuse right. fox is not one or the other he is both. there are black cops. fox is a cop and he does fucked up cop things and that does not save him from suffering as an enslaved person.

[calamitoustide]

is it new years yet? chapter three

When Regulus opens the door James Potter is revealed of all people his hands completely full with overflowing bags. 

“Oh.”

James shoots him a soft smile, “I got off my shift, I wanted to check on you.” 

Regulus’ chest is completely full, it’s turned all soft, he doesn’t know what that says. He just steps away letting James in, “What’s with the bags?” “This isn’t all of it,” James explains, setting them all down on his coffee table. “I’ve brought more.” 

Regulus opens his mouth to question it but James is already out of the door again. He goes over to the bags instead, wordlessly looking through them. When he realizes what James has done his shoulders slump, he really can’t get away from it can he? 

“James.” 

“I know,” James says, lugging in not only more bags but a massive box too. “I know you don’t like it, but I’m determined.” He drops the box on the ground before going back to close the door. “I’ll make a joyful guy out of you, Regulus.”

[wegotisms]

This is why I never feel bad anymore about having to be the one to text people first all the time.

I'm busy, they're busy, if I remember someone I just let them know and that I love them, and sometimes we're too busy to talk or respond or hang out, and sometimes we can find time, but like

Even if we don't find time or they don't respond, I still know we love each other and think about each other

We all got shit goin on and I promise your friends still love you, your brain is just mean

Normalize seeing someone's lack of effort as their lack of interest in you regardless of what they tell you. Giving you all of the right words, but none of the right actions is called manipulation. If a person wants to be with you, they prove it. Period.

[clegfly]

i got. a little too obsessed with the omori the dreamer mod. i will be inconsolable for days i am a ruined individual

[threepandas]

Bad End: Trust

"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"

I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.

Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.

They'll kill me.

Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.

It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.

Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.

I... I was scared.

Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.

How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...

I'm so scared.

The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.

They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.

Okay, REALLY handsome.

Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.

(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)

Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.

We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.

(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)

Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.

Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.

Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.

Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?

Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...

So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.

"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."

I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.

"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."

Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.

I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.

Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!

"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."

"I Love You."

[clearwingedmaven]

Alright! The Empty House(Full Analysis, yay!]. My apologies that it's taken this long, but here we go.

So, a lot people know the story, that Holmes returns from the dead, having faked his death for three years, and helps solve the murder of Ronald Adair.

What I want to talk about though, is how Empty House is both a child of love, and resentment, and how it permeates throughout the story.

Resentment is obvious, at this point. Doyle resented the public pressure of 1893 England to have him bring back Sherlock Holmes, that that was what he was famous for, instead of his historical novels and Spiritualist work.

And it's colored into the characters as well. Different adaptations of Sherlock Holmes vary on levels of resentment. For example, the BBC Sherlock adaptation colors it heavily with resentment, and anger.

But even then, there is resentment between the characters as well. Even if Holmes's return is hailed as a joy by Watson, there is a resentment, a hesitation, in plunging back into his life with Sherlock Holmes.

Can you blame him? How would Watson know that Holmes wouldn't vanish again? How could Holmes traipse back into his life, free from the trauma and despair from Mary's death, and his own loss?

Perhaps, too, in this case, Watson serves as a mouthpiece for the audience. They resented that Holmes died. That the figure in their great game was gone. Dead. Their letters to Doyle, to anyone, to newspapers are desperate and resentful.

Doyle created an icon. And taking him away quite literally created a literary firestorm.

Resentment, I'd even argue, colors Holmes too. Watson did not live life in fear for three years, going from continent to continent, place to place, away from Moran, who knew he was alive.

Moran, of course, is another figure of resentment. He resents Holmes for taking Moriarty away. He resents Holmes for living when Moriarty plunged into the Falls, dead. And he resented Ronald Adair for cheating him out.

With all of these, it is no wonder it is from a pen of a bitter writer.

But, but. Love, is also strong here. It's incredibly strong. Perhaps even more so than resentment.

As I mentioned in my prior blog, Holmes’s return is gentle. He treats Watson's faint with care and a delicate hand. Mrs. Hudson accepts him back, and Watson does not ask him to leave(as much as I think Doyle wanted to...), and instead, is pleased Holmes is back, alive, and not dead at the bottom of Reichenbach.

I'd even argue that it's love that brought Holmes back. Love of his family, love of his brother, of John Watson, of Mrs. Hudson, of being able to help people, brought him back from Reichenbach and his three year exile.

(And, to even buying Watson's practice so Watson could have something to go back to after Mary's death. Whatever you may believe in between Holmes and Watson, that, to me, is a show of love and support. To help take care of a mourning friend.)

Remember: it was a murder that brought Holmes back. People needed help, and so did Watson, and everyone back in London with Moran on the loose. And as much as Holmes decries being bored at the face of crime, he is a man who loves to help. He loves being the one people turn to when other options are exhausted, or the police laugh them off.

Love and loyalty drive him to despair, when he can't save his clients.

Doyle didn't have to treat this story this gently. It didn't need to be there, for him, as he was caving into public pressure.

But it was. There is a dual element of both love and resentment from the pen of a bitter writer, and I think it's utterly fascinating.

[nut-house]

idk guys i think hes an uwu fembboy faggot

I HATE WHEN PEOPLE MISCHARACTERIZE MY FAVORITES. CAL GABRIEL IS NOT AN UWU FEMBOY FAGGOT!!!!!!!!!