Suki Space @sukithesadfox - Tumblr Blog

Where you can find your local tibetan sandfox:

On scribblehub: https://www.scribblehub.com/profile/131756/sukithefox/

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SukiTheFox

On Ao3 but spicier: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatsunonSavior

On itch.io: https://sukirpg.itch.io/

gnarlyghost

Catgirl Bike Chase

(HMU 4 illustration / Animation g1gs)

herrmit

prequel to the harrowhark collage. we love you gideon nav

darlingofdots

been stewing on an analytical approach to fiction which I call "is this book afraid of me?" and in order to answer this question you determine how hard the book is trying to make sure you don't come after the writer on twitter

playwrongs

Tags via @deadpanwalking, editor and ass-kicker extraordinaire

gingisnap

Please keep making art. Please make it for yourself. Please don’t let everything become even more of the same flat general appeal nonsense that doesn’t seem to have anything to say

rubecso

Main character introductions in every Aubrey-Maturin book

"This is Captain Aubrey, he is TALL and FAT and STRONG and BLOND and HOT. His crew worship him and so should you." "This is Stephen Maturin, he is SMALL and WEIRD and looks PERMANENTLY ILL. His clothes are RUBBISH. Scrungle Doctor incoming."

spicymancer

Fridge Logic

ozempicofficial

animepopheart

★ 【Shiren】「 Frieren in Masterpieces 」 ✔ republished w/permission ☆ follow our YT interview show!

argumate

one thing LLMs and people have in common is if you ask them "why did you do that" even their sincere answer will often be complete garbage confabulated after the fact.

prokopetz

Horses exist in zoos, you're pretty sure. That's where they, more or less, belong. It's not like there's a stable next to the auto shop or something. Are there… wild horses? In… nature? Presumably, at some point, there must have been. Probably not, anymore. Oh, the race tracks, though. Duh. They probably have stables. Couldn't lose twenty thousand wen a day if there weren't losing horses to bet on. Horses don't belong at the gas station, but there's one here anyways. Its rider is wearing a leather jacket studded with old military medals; what looks like a torso-sized cogwheel, slung over her back like a shield; a broadsword, underneath the cog-shield; and a pair of holo-screen shades. She dismounts. She slides her card through the machine. The pumps start pumping. The horse sticks out its neck, dips its snout, and begins drinking gasoline directly from the nozzle. The rider holds the spout up to the horse's mouth, at a bit of an awkward angle. She meets your eyes, and shrugs. You know how it is. You don't know how it is. Later, you will see her on the news, clotheslining a police officer on horseback at seventy miles per hour. You will understand even less, and also, so much more.

— Emily Zhu, Ten Thousand Days For the Sword