#pleasee stop

[ganeshpnf]

Annabeth and Athena bashing is getting crazy in this fandom and its just soo annoying and tbh feels misogynist. Im sorry but we accept flaws, flawed character(especially male gods btw) but when it comes to them, its pure...hate?

I dont hate on anyone tbh, except Zeus, bcs like come on he is a sh*t. Anyway, yeah its the same arguments everytime:

-"Annabeth is too pridefull and rude" She is a teenager. And she is now close friends with Rachel.

-"She is abusive and abusing Percy" Percy would actually hate you for that comment.

-"Athena disowned Annabeth" No, she wasnt even in her "Athena" form, she was having a split personality, didnt even recognize Annabeth. Besides, their relationship is good in later books.

-"Athena is the worst parent, she doesnt care about her kids." Erm...I can make you a good list and explain why she is actually one of the good ones :) Not to mention, why are we forgetting that she claims her kids, all of them, at birth. Who else does that? The last I checked, Hermes cabin was full in pjo.

-"Athena didnt give Annabeth anything, any blessing or powers." Again, she was blessed and claimed at birth. Second, she pretty much got her mind, intelligence from her. Also she got gifts, and was blessed as weaving abilities. She is a master strategist.

-"Annabeth doesnt deserve Percy!" It feels like you are a young teenager and jealous of a fictional character 😭 They are happy, thank you very much.

-"Athena is not a girl's girl." Lets remember that Ovid's version was used, which was not real Greek myths, but Roman. At least dont act like you are a myth genius and sympatize Medusa everywhere...She was born a gorgon.

[prahelika]

ethan 🤝 ilsa

offering choices they know the other won't take; but they can't stop themselves from offering anyway.

[chloesimaginationthings]

I can't be the only one.

I’ll be honest and say I literally did base William’s face off this image…

[p1princess16]

nah this is sad at this point...

like why are they everywhere BUT at actual live races??!!

[valend]

Morrissey still talking about Johnny Marr during concerts and saying he doesn’t miss him and he was forced to be in a band with him and then playing hand in glove and I know it’s over girl PLEASE I’m getting second hand embarrassment. He’s like the one friend that breaks up with her boyfriend and she keeps talking about him for months afterwards but like 10000 times worse

[wacky-wonders]

what if they were friends 🤯

[worth-this-and-more]

me reading alice's purgatory and her attempts to get out of it: maybe the way to get out of this loop is to not try anything sweetie, maybe you just have to accept to truth honey, maybe you just have to forgive yourself, maybe you need to know and forgive yourself because it wasn't your fault you couldn't have done anything sweetheart, you're perfect my dear-

[incandescentgalaxy]

i absolutely love how perenor has taken the entire epic fandom by storm and we can't stop making art/animatics/shitposts/fics/other content of them. we love our silly yet weirdly deep and complex somewhat traumatized and whimsical gays. "they die" shut up

[beddybites]

now guys what did i tell u about sending me asks about wanting me to draw baby giyuu tomioka and comparing this grown man to a baby kitten or implying shinobu or mitsuri are his motherly figures/big sisters

i like posting things that make me happy & stuff but i cant help but talk about these things when ppl are always in my inbox telling me to do things ive established i dont like ):

it makes me rlly uncomfy and makes me rlly sad so please please stop asking for that type of content esp with giyuu::. if i keep gettting these things ill have to close my inbox ;w;

[ironrea]

failure doesn’t exist unless you allow it to. there is no failed shifting attempt or failed manifestation unless you say there is.

[togetherness23]

duck and diesel are a duo that i can never see becoming committed partners to each other (romantically, platonically, etc.). it’s so lopsided that i barely even want to call it a rivalry— diesel’s mostly an arse who blew things out of proportion.

diesel: *flatters the other engines*

duck: *reads diesel like a book* >:|

——

duck: dude show some respect the controller.

diesel: well he thinks i need to learn. he’s wrong bc diesels are revolutionary and better than you.

duck: k.

duck: *steps back and lets him fuck around and find out*

diesel: *fucks around and finds out*

duck: LOL. i’ll leave ya to it. :)

diesel: i will turn your friends against you and get you booted off the island.

——

i think i’d entertain the idea of the ship more if it were actually mutually destructive, like if duck was claiming that steam engines are superior back in diesel’s face and undermined him, and/or decided to use lies and manipulation to turn engines against diesel while diesel himself was plotting.

however, i also cannot simply imagine duck ever being that maligned to match diesel’s freak like that. it’s just not in his charm/character ever since he’s usually such an earnest friend who has a more intact moral compass and much less malice.

i really can’t see myself making an effort to ship them when duck is so much more the victim than the one who deserved comeuppance (esp when there’s other characters that i think are better suited in the rivals/enemies-lovers category).

[spooky-kakashi]

is post crisis jason also like this with mothers?

i know he dies trying to save his mother, but i'm starting to understand that a lot of jason's widespread characteristics actually come from the pre-crisis era

[kaiserposting]

People who try too hard not to be cringe are usually the most embarrassing

[1-800-sexy-mad]

on siblings with big dreams

bugflies00 / Sour Heart, Jenny Zhang / Mr. Robot, "eps3.7_dont-delete-me.ko", Sam Esmail / Same as previous / "The Winner Takes It All", ABBA / moriphyte / The Solitude of Prime Numbers, Paolo Giordano / "Engine", Slaughter Beach, Dog / Mr. Robot, "eps3.3metadata.par2", Sam Esmail / ashrayus / "Antigone", Jean Anouilh / "We Were Patriots", The Mountain Goats / Mr. Robot, "eps2.8_h1dden-pr0cess.axx", Sam Esmail" / "Godspeed", Frank Ocean / Sour Heart, Jenny Zhang

[magpieandpossum]

day 3 of @hereticaster’s trektober! Character: Doctor Bashir

Theme: Potion

[id3allybun]

🐰 early night call, sore chest, trembling thighs.

aka: i sent him a picture and i paid for it.

aka: pt.3 of bun’s calls <3 (long post cause the call was like two hoursss)

i should’ve known better. or maybe i did know better and wanted it. needed it.

either way, i sent the photo.

nipples clamped, tits pushed up and aching, and flushed in the soft lighting of my bedroom. no caption, other than one asking him not to be weirded out. just the image.

and then in ten minutes, my phone lit up with his name.

calling.

i answered with a smile already curling on my lips, and all he said was: “Put them back on. Now. Then go get the hairbrush.”

i fetched the brush with shaky hands.

kept talking to me like he always does—soft and cruel, sugar-laced venom dripping from every word.

told me to tease myself with the handle. slow. shallow. no thrusting yet.

i could already feel myself getting wetter just from his voice.

then he started describing it.

his favorite kind of scene.

“Picture it,” he murmured. “You, spread open on my bed. Hairbrush inside you. And I bring my friends over.”

my whole body stiffened. i whimpered. he knew that would break me.

i moaned, and he told me to push the brush in deeper.

“They are gonna take turns holding the handle, okay, baby five seconds each. Mhm, he’s my best friend, alright? He gets ten. Don’t cum, baby, im next, okay? Don’t even think about it.”

i was whimpering so loud by then, he had to shush me when I whined too loud about wanting to cum, begging and voice nothing but a silly little whisper.

“Not yet.”

and then he said:

“You can cum… if you make it through the countdown.”

he started counting from 10.

too fast.

way too fast.

i was still trying to chase it, grinding on the brush like a pathetic thing, and then he said:

“You didn’t cum, baby?” And I whined again, saying he was too mean. “I’ll count again, ask me for another chance. Beg and I will.”

i cried. literally cried. begged for another chance. and he was so mean about it.

so he counted again. started from five instead of ten.

5… 4… 3…

and i got so close—but not fast enough. “You didn’t cum again, baby? you know it’s your fault,” and I cried and asked how and he just said. “It’s your fault, I said I would count, I didn’t say I would count from ten.”

and then came the worst part. “Let’s play another game, okay?” And he continued when I swallowed hard and agreed. “Take the clamps and put them back on, ten times. Let’s start. Off, put them on. Off, and back on.”

i screamed. not loud, but like—muffled gasps and broken noises and tear-slicked sobs.

i was shaking so bad the brush nearly slipped out. And it did slip out. I made the stupid decision of telling him that. “Sl-slipped out,” I murmured out.

I didn’t know whether I heard him click his tongue. “Why is that, baby?”

“I dunno,”

“Is it cause your pussy’s too wet to hold it in? That must be it, right?” He cooed, “it’s either that or you didn’t want to obey daddy’s orders.” And I told him that wasn’t it, I almost cried. “Are we just gonna blame it on your wet pussy, yeah?” And I nodded, sniffling.

then, finally—he said: “Last chance. You’ve got twenty seconds.”

and this time he was slow. deliberate. he watched me fall apart.

20…

his voice was so calm. so cruel.

15…

i was chanting incoherent nonsense. eyes squeezed shut, soaked thighs trembling.

10…

he kept whispering, “Good girl.”

5…

he told me he wanted to see me cum for him and his friends.

2…

he told me to let go.

i came crying. crying and gasping and soaking everything. i think i said “thank you” like six times. maybe more. maybe forever.

my thighs are still trembling. i still feel the clamps when i move. and the brush is lying next to me like it knows exactly what it did.

but he wasn’t done.

his voice dipped again—dangerously soft.

“On all fours, bunny. Put your phone next to you and get on doggy.”

i whimpered. he didn’t wait for a yes. he never does. i knelt on the bed, still leaking, legs trembling, cheek pressed to the pillow.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now imagine one of my friends behind you.” and then he described him.

“Tall. 6’4. Muscular. Big hands. Twice your size. Hands rough.”

i choked on a breath.

“Slap your ass,” he whispered. “Pretend it’s him. Just his big hands on your cute ass.”

i did. once. then again. and again.

until i was gasping. until i was crying into the pillow.

“Louder,” he said. “Fuck, that’s a good one, baby..”

my skin stung. i felt humiliated. used. perfect.

and then his voice changed—mocking, sweet in that awful way. “Oh, baby, he’s pulling down his pants. What are you gonna do? He’s just gonna hold your little waist down and pull out his cock, just as big as him.

i couldn’t answer. he waited.

“Say it,” he said. “Say ‘no, don’t want it.’ Over and over.”

i obeyed. even as i whimpered and rocked back, even as my whole body screamed yes, i whispered:

“no, don’t want it…”

“don’t want it…”

“don’t…”

liar.

he knew. he always knows.

“Poor thing,” he murmured. “You’re dripping for him. Such a dumb baby. You want him to ruin you, don’t you?”

i didn’t answer. i was too far gone. so he gave another order: “Use the brush again. Pretend it’s him.”

i pushed it in. cried out. ground back onto it while my free hand kept shaking. i was soaked. overwhelmed. gone.

and just when i thought i couldn’t take more—he said, “Lay down. Suck your fingers. Pretend it’s my cock in your mouth.”

i collapsed onto my side, sucking on two fingers like a desperate girl, whimpering through them as he baby-talked me through it.

“Is that better, baby? What are you thinking about, hm?”

“You were thinking about him, weren’t you? Big scary friend with big hands.”

“Does my baby want to be stuffed full by strangers?”

i shook my head. i cried when i said it.

“no… no, just daddy…”

“only think about daddy…”

“only want you…”

he groaned. quietly. the way he does when he likes what i say.

he made me keep sucking. kept whispering about how small i looked, how ruined, how good i’d look between his friend’s legs—but how much better i’d look on his.

he didn’t let me cum again. not yet.

just left me there, soaked and trembling and full of imaginary hands. said i could sleep now. said he’d be thinking about it all night.

and now i’m here. sore. dripping. barely able to type. my thighs are sticky. my ass still stings.

i’m still sucking on my fingers. not because he told me to. but because it’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart again.

he took me further. i thought i was done—soaked, wrecked, twitching. but he knew i had more to give. i always do when he asks.

“Oh, baby, it’s my friend again,” he said. “The one who just fucked you. Yeah, the who you didn’t want. Right, you’re gonna suck his cock and make him feel again, baby, or else he’s just going to use you again.”

i whimpered. bit my lip. my body already moving, my thighs clenching like they knew what was coming.

“Start sucking,” he said. “Use your fingers. I want to hear those messy little sounds.”

so i did. two fingers in my mouth, drool slipping down my chin as i moved my head like a needy thing. he watched. he listened. and he taunted.

“You don’t want him back in your pussy, right? Tell him that. Tell him that you don’t want his cock in your pussy.” And I did, voice muffled as I spoke out exactly what he wanted me to say.

“C’mon, baby. Gag. Deeper. That’s my close friend,”

“Pathetic. You can do better, sweetheart. Don’t embarrass me in front of them.”

i was crying again. moaning around my fingers like they were real. like they were his.

and then he said it.

“Imagine them taking turns. One of them in your mouth and both your hands in two cocks.”

i sobbed. full-body shaking. breathless.

“Fuck, that’s not enough baby,” he said after a few moments. “You’re gonna get fucked, okay? Imagine my friend picking you up and putting you on his cock. Yeah, shove your brush deeper inside. That’s it, deeper, baby, all the way in.”

i came hard. too hard. i screamed his name but not just his—i didn’t know what i was saying. just noises. just pleading.

i collapsed.

and then… silence. just his breathing.

he waited. then said it. low. slow. mean.

“You know who made you cum like that, baby?”

“…It was him.”

“My friend. The one you didn’t want. The one you said ‘no’ to.”

i froze. my breath caught.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “That one. You liked him so much. Did you think it was me, sweetheart? Did you come on his cock thinking it was me?”

i started crying. “i didn’t mean to. i’m sorry—i thought it was you, i didn’t—i only want you…”

his voice got soft again.

mocking, but gentler.

“You didn’t mean to, baby? Hm? You didn’t want to? You just couldn’t tell, huh? It felt too good to care?”

i nodded through tears. still on the call. shaking.

and then he said the words that broke me all over again:

“Give me a kiss.”

i kissed the air like he asked me to, still shaking and whimpering.

and then he softened. truly softened.

“Good girl. You did so well.”

he made me breathe with him. three deep ones. and i did. because i always do what daddy says.

he breaks me. then builds me back up. and i wouldn’t want it any other way.

bonus: after that, we just chatted for a while, sharing hobbies and me telling him about that time I broke my arm while playing, and talking about books and everything else in between (calling him old when he said he wakes up early and reads nonfiction). it was justt really fucking nice likeee aghh.