Dec 17, 2025
You think there is enough?
seen from Türkiye
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from Latvia
seen from Switzerland
seen from Yemen
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from France
You think there is enough?
So you know how every one draws simple versions of Rocky and Adrian as just a circle and a triangle with legs? Well here’s my rockyStache and Dark Adrian……. I drew this because I needed a break from writing…..
Speechless.
Saying I hate and despise and don't interact with incest ships AND saying I'm anti censorship and don't harass people on the internet for their krazy kinks™ they practice in fantasy are two statement that can and do co exist.
You can hate and lock your internet spaces car doors as you drive past it, but you don't gotta wanna be a dicktator and Trump Republican D*ck Rider And Sucker™ and say what can and can't exist in the realm of fantasy.
. . . Zeus was pregnant multiple times. In multiple parts of his body.
Proceeds to drink twenty teen gallons of wine from a comically sized wine glass...
Don't give a f*ck about what gets them off as long as their bodily liquids don't get on me, y'know?
ghost has never loved anyone like he loves soap. has never felt this overwhelming, uncontrollable mix of emotions before; tugging at him and forcing him to act against his rigid and fixed way of thinking. it hurts, too. it's nothing compared to torture, to being stripped of his autonomy and left dangling, helpless; it's not watching everything dear to him get taken away and destroyed. he's torn, hanging on by some shred of sanity and rational thinking, the other half of him desperate to not stew in this, to let it out and accept it in turn. he doesn't think he deserves it, doesn't even know how to take it and cope with it. there's an instinct to throw it away, rip it to bits and pieces; but then he looks at him, and thinks he could never taint him with his own filth, that he'd never ruin soap like this. if he ever got the chance, he'd try, as hard as he does at anything else. it's a shame then, really, that he never got to make up his mind.
the blood trickling from johnny's temple is an answer enough.
apricot season is upon us once again. god help us all