#its so good i want to blorbo it so bad so i can make more ppl listen to it

[thatone-highlighter]

so none of them beat haircut (because damn u vibechecked me hard w that one) but i love blame, throwing punches, feels like i know you and not ok and i really liked rashomon and losing touch

Vibe checking u with haircut was so funny man

BLAME SO REAL BESTIE <3 its literally so good i dont know what it is but i want to eat it

Feels like i know you and losing touch i really like on the same level as over and nerves also

Theres a few also like iDealouge i like, Grand Punk is pretty good also but i gotta be in a specific mood for it

[portokali]

there is. definitely a lot to be said about the merits of having the ability to turn off Shipper Brain Mode and enjoy a story without ever demanding a ship be canon or even shipping any of the characters. however there is something about a hint or a promise of romance in works that aren’t explicitly romantic that makes them somehow more tantalizing and interesting. anyway this post is about james and erin derrygirls where i had 0 expectations of their feelings ever being confirmed and simply entertained the idea of them as a what-if-james-likes-erin-lol on a completely different tab that was left open in my brain but when it Was confirmed in s3 and the way it was left unfulfilled but all the same promised absolutely has done numbers to my brain chemistry like the small and tender crushes of two kids living ordinary lives under extraordinary circumstances. something about that yeah.

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Fandom observation nicknames and funny tags: Part One Piece

Okay, one piece fandom it's your turn and I'm going to highlight your creativity. Again this is not meant to shame or call anyone out. I am genuinely impressed with the creativity and you guys made me laugh. So again in my opinion these were too good just to be lost in the tags or in the anonymous messages, several you sent me. So expand post at your own risk. This one is unhinged

*updated as of May 4th with more tags and new characters

I have mentioned this before, but for some reason that is beyond me. One Piece fandom you guys refer to your characters as daddy and mommy (And it's in a kinky way) way more than any fandom. I think I should just start with the list of characters that have been labeled as such before I go into the creative names for individual characters. Because trust me who makes the list and who doesn't is actually funny.

One piece Daddy's: Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy, Sir Crocodile, Benn Beckman, Killer, Sanji, Rayleigh, Roger, Doflamingo, Rosinante/Corazon, Katakuri, Ivankov, Arlong, Yamato, Marco, Izou, Smoker, Garp, Sengoku, Zeff, Kuzan/Aokiji, Kizaru, Fujitora, Akainu, Blackbeard

When it comes to the One piece Mommy's: Nico Robin, Boa Hancock, Charlotte Smoothie, Charlotte Galette, Charlotte Amande, Vice admiral doll, Catarina Devon, Ivankov & Crocodile

Now due to popular demand the new category the One Piece Babygirls: Ace, Buggy, Sanji, Luffy, Sabo, Zoro, Ussop, Marco, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Kid, Law, Bepo, Killer, Mihawk, Shanks, Perona, Yamato, Kuzan/Aokiji, Kizaru, Fujitora, Rosinante/Corazon, Katakuri, Smoker, Robin, Nami, Vivi, Jinbe, Hatchan, Roger, Zeff

Now when it comes to individual characters there have been some interesting standouts but I'm just going to do some highlights because you guys have so many characters

Ace: "Depressed sunshine orphan boy with daddy issues", "ace has that grungy line cook riz you know he lays legendary pipe", " he got goofy older brother swag", "Beautiful butch dyke wife", "Ace my greasy fire narcoleptic king", "The narcoleptic babygirl", the greasy crusty desert rat. "He would be worth the burn risk", "my favorite fire donut", "something about greasy alabasta ace hits so different", "with his riz he's probably a walking STD risk but it would be worth it. Just look at him probably also probably got a couple bastard kids running around the grand line", it's ok he's still greasy in my heart worlds most feral baby boy he looks like he eats dirt I could fix him (force him to bathe regularly)

Arlong: "Y'all are too afraid to recognize the truth too afraid of his drip, his swagger, his saw nose, to admit that he's hot also live action arlong?!?!the only sexy fishmen," "arlong looks like a toxic florida frat bro," "I legitimately think there's something wrong with me sometimes due to how bad I want arlong the rancid personality enhances the appeal", "yall are p****" arlong is sexy put some respect on his name look at those lips the laugh the hair!"

Akainu: "The world's next top authoritarian," magma Daddy, "He makes donuts and I still love him"

Bartolomeo: "the man hasn't showered in probably a week he's obsessed with the strawhats he'll pee anywhere and he's an absolute dweeb he's like a stray mutt that followed me home look at his fit it's AWFUL AND FABULOUS he's gross and dumb and if something bad happens to this silly barrier- creating puppy i'll LOSE IT"

Belo Betty: "True story: Belo Betty made me, an Aroace woman have a sexuality crisis."

Ben Beckman: Dilf, "retirement blorbo", "Benn Beckman is a religious experience", "to me? beckman is the character with the most sex appeal ever. raw sex appeal. I would [redacted] if I met this man. just sayin", "He can ruin my life any day of the week", "Also lest we forget pre TS Beck a++ quality right there I just want someone smart who will also hit a guy with a gun is that so much to ask for", "This p**** wants what she wants and its always going to be Benn “back breaker" Beckman", husband material, "men are like wine in order to get a good vintage you want the one that's aged", he had that sexy blind and reckless loyalty about him", "Beckman is a fine aged vintage of wine as men should be", "DEAR GOD the things I WOULD DO to that man LIKE [redacted] and [redacted] because [redacted] and [redacted]", "idk how to explain it but he's so wife", "benn beckman? more like benn breastman ok sorry yeah anyways. said it before and ill say it again beckman exudes raw sex appeal like jesus christ. why would you not want to fuck this man ive had lesbian friends who said he would be an exception to them which is so real his tits are big he loves his captain he STUBBED HIS CIGARETTE IN A MAN'S EYE UNDER THE GUISE OF DEFENDING HIS CAPTAIN so fucking sexy mwah mwah beckman my wife you are so hot SO HOT. in conclusion benn breastman you will forever be a top sexyguy in my head oh also forgot to add. he canonically gets bitches which is so real. he could get me any day", "Oh dear I just realised I have a thing for older men with grey hair and have substance abuse issues I choose to believe lung cancer does not exist in opu", "

Buggy: Assigned clown at birth, walking disaster, "my pathetic sniveling wet clown", my Beloved, "he has blue hair and pronouns", Failboy, "the skrunkly clown", "my clown wife", "he has that fail boy cringe", "buggy has the stronger levels of foolishness and fumbling his way to success", "the cringefail clown extraordinaire buggy", "he is silly and pathetic like a bisexual divorced dad",

Catarina Devon: "my problematic lesbian sugar mommy”,

Cracker: "if Cracker just let his hair down he'd be unstoppable i fear", "get wrecked cracker", "I am so curious about the people voting for cracker let me study you please", "cracker getting murdered as expected", "you can't do my biscuit husband like that", "i find cracker really hot"

Crocodile: desert daddy, Babygirl, "He's like if tony soprano was trans", crocodaddy, crocomommy, Big titty mob boss, He's 8ft tall and I would let he ruin me,"Mr. Sandman", "the human sandcastle," "literally has sand in his britches", "son of a beach", "World's Most Expensive Sand Sculpture", "he's got 99 problems and his hook is one of them", "casino blorbo", "I would subject myself to sandburn any day for THE SIR FUCKING CROCODILE Anakin Skywalker don't go here because I WOULD love sand if it was like 8 feet tall and had a voice like that absolutely rabid he could stick his sand in so many places and I'd thank him crocodile is one of those guys i wanted to hate so bad and then went actually no i want this guy carnally Crocodile has some weird rizz goin on and i need to climb that sandcastle", "I'm so sorry but I need to eat crocodile's pussy", "With Sir Crocodile you can have Sex on the Beach. Literally. Plus he owns a casino so you could probably sip on the cocktail version too...while getting some cocktail.", "mafia vibes and style", "crocodile's got style. class. you will be wined and dined in the most exquisite way you can imagine", "He's got DADDY vibes", " One handsome mafia boss", "I love crocodile but also i wanna punch him and i feel like hes got the sandiest pussy/dick that shit will give me a rash", "my evilest baby boy", "Crocodile invented evil trans swag just saying", "im sorry az but crocodile was my dilf awakening", "in Crocodilf we trust",

Dragon: "the revolutionary scrungle dragon",

Doflamingo: "Dofy's got some wierd (potentially fun) energy but he would NOT treat you well he'd be awful", "The psychopathic pimp on a shoestring budget. Seriously dude, San Diego Zoo called and they want their flamingos back. That coat is so last season.", "fashion travesty", "Doflamingo dresses like an eye test and will probably steal your credit card by the end of the night not because he needs the money. because he finds it hilarious", "Mingo is just a spoiled frat fuckboy who's too full of himself to be interested in anyone/anything else", "a balding white man", "evil florida man my beloved they dont understand you", "Budget Pimp who robbed San Diego of their world famous Flamingo flock"

Eustass Kid: Pirate punk, "He's a sopping wet loser", "a man wearing eyeliner and nailpolish is by definition hotter", "my scrungy little fuck", he would also probably give me an STD and it would still be worth it

Franky: " Three words light up nipples"

Fujitora: "fujitora yes plz that like calm collected way he fights makes me KNOW hed take care of his partner real good", "have you seen how he slurps his noodles? I just know he could eat me out in ways I could never imagine"

Gol D. Roger: "the "Tom Selleck" of Pirates. He mustache'd the gold somewhere. You think these puns are bad wait until you hit my NSFW tags. Can't believe no one pointed those out yet, his name is a literal gold mine of innuendo. king of pirates? nah he's the king of rogering roger this roger that roger anyone he damn well pleases he has the D", "why does no one thirst after Gol like i do? youre all weak! cowards", "sorry but i am all about his dads mustache", " I can't be the only one that wants to ride that mustache"

Jinbe: "I wanna suck on the webbing between his fingers", does anyone else contemplate how soft Jinbe's tits are to lie on or is that just me?

Kaido: "beefcake beast of a man",

Katakuri: "I'm a monsterfucker at heart", "Katakuri is literally so good man he's a family man #he's badass he's got a great sense of honour you know I had to go for the mochi man", "donut king", "KATAKURI MY MOCHI MONSTER TEETH KING CHAMPION HUSBAND THAT I WOULD CLIMB LIKE A MOUNTAIN #I'M ALWAYS ON MY CLIMBING AGENDA WITH MY ONE PIECE KINGS!", "i just know this man would treat me right we love kata", "Kata definitely ticks that hot box"

King: "King is literally the most beautiful OP character you can't change my mind", "Gotta chose the melanin yknow", "king is so ajdhjdjdjchjd bark bark bark bark", "I saw King and decided he is my blorbo", "king of my [REDACTED]", " I know he's like 20 ft tall and I'm probably the size of his d*** but it would be worth it. I would gladly choose death by snu snu for one night with him"

Killer: "big tiddy murder boyfriend",

Marco: Bird daddy "Mr. Dr. Emotionally-Stable Scrungles", "surfer hippy electric blue glasses wing flapper", "DR. MMMMM", Fineapple

Luffy: "l am in the minority here I need luffy's gomu gomu no [REDACTED]"

Mihawk: The Vampire Pirate, Goth Dad, the sword father, Pirate Dracula, the big titty goth husband, "I think mihawk would treat you right. i want mihawk to treat me right", "I love his gay wine uncle energy", "I appreciate that he dresses Like That everywhere extra ass bitch", "hot vampire cowboy pirate", Morticia Addams, "Mihawk oozes 'step on me' energy",

Robin: "she has irresistible weird girl rizz", "big tiddy archaeologist gf"

Rosinante: "my insane clumsy tall dilf", "wife material", "he has cringefail dad swag", "rosi is everything to me actually. I would climb that tall clumsy king like a tree", "the klutzy mime", "he has that pathetic depressed clown vibe thats irresistible", "He's the epiome of strong but silent, he's the asshole with a heart of gold, he has everything", rosinante is hot tho and his clumsiness somehow enhances it", "I've said it before and I'll say it again I WOULD climb that clumsy king like a tall tree want to kiss him until his silly jester makeup is all over me too", "I am loyal to the guy who actively sets himself on fire",

Sabo: "bc he said killing woth lead pipes and then he just kept doing it its the crazy for me"

Sanji: fail wife, Cooking Daddy, "I NEED sanji to f*** me to tuesday and make me dinner before and breakfast after", "The man will feed you the best meal you've ever had and genuinely compliment something about you", "His fighting style is 'kick the problem until it goes away' and he chugs Love Women Juice", "he can cook and fight and he's damn fine while doing both"

Shanks: Margaritaville Himbo, "Dilflicious", "the deadbeat malewife wifi user", "I am a whole lesbian but if there were a butch girl version of these men I would let shanks ruin my life", "favorite guy in the local frat" He's probably a walking STD risk but he's hot and I'm a slut that has a thing for red heads, "the unwashed bitch", "LOOK AT THAT SCRUFF ON SHANKS the three scars on his face that smile", "my Scrungle drunk bastard", I would volunteer to be his next baby mama you know shanks got a few a dozen red haired children all over the grand line tell me I'm wrong"

Smoothie: "ah...smoothie....or as i call her... one piece tsunade Imaoo", "ultimately my desire to be crushed by Smoothie's thighs won out", "SMOOTHIE. THANK YOU mommy long legs... gauhggfghgh......i want her to juice me pleeeeaaaseeeeeeeeeee /silly",

Silvers Rayleigh: "Silver Fox Rayleigh", "he's old but he can get it", "Rayleigh has that 'your daughter calls me daddy too' energy", "he's a gilf who married a literal queen", "rayleigh has spent his entire life SERVING CUNT", "Raiyleigh has that gilf energy despite having no kids", I need him in so many different ways I cannot list", "he has my heart around his little finger", "Rayleigh makes me howl like a dog I swear", "I mean come on look at his HAIR his GLASSES that incredible STARE even his wrinkles are hot", "Rayleigh got the 50 year anniversary in the bag idk why you would go for anything else", "helloooo????? Rayleigh is the hottest old guy in one piece please", "I would let rayleigh ruin me and I would thank him", "Rayleigh to me is more like a really smooth mead", "genuinely may be the hottest man of onep just like. objectively", "rayleigh you will always be famous for being the most fuckable old man ever. there may be dilfs galore out there but ur the only gilf in my heart", "that scene where Rayleigh gets out of the ocean shirtless After swimming to the island of women I actually said Daddy out loud",

Smoker: "Smokedaddy", "Smokestack. 'Ole Smokey. Smokin' Hot Smoker", "smokers allergy to keeping his Tits covered compels me", "i do love smoked sausage i'm sorry i'll see myself out", "smoker he's just so beefy like fuckkk and he's like almost 40 i just wanna be smokers lil housewife", "smoker is a beautiful lesbian to me", "smoked sausage I just *know* he's got more to work with than a cocktail weenie", "SMOKEYBEAR PAPA SMOKE MY KING i would smoke him like a chimney if you're pickin up what I'm putting down wink wink nudge nudge he really would kill my lungs but it'd be a fun time", "SMOKER PAPUCHO RICO I NEED HIM", "smoker is solid (despite being made of smoke)", "smoker. smo-yan. ultimate "guy who is allergic to wearing shirts" and honestly? he's so right for that. he needs to show off his tits! in a one piece man boob ranking he's coming number 2 (after crocodile) i said this in dms earlier today but it needs to be released to the world "fat d*ck fat tits fat ass he has it all" smoker is PACKINNNNN in every way he's genuinely so attractive, even just considering him physically and look at his sexy facial scar also (beck also has one. very good) and his slicked back short hair.....not to mention the things that are very endearing about him personality wise - he does masculinity like NOBODY ELSE. genuinely NO ONE does it like him like. he's gruff but he has a very strong personal moral code and he really *does* care..... the man's a tsundere and he's never been cruel to those undeserving like in his introduction - kids bumps into him, spills ice cream on his pants YOU KNOW WHAT SMOKER SAYS? YK WHAT HE SAYS? "my pants ate your ice cream." KILL ME NOWWWWWW HES SO FUCKING HOT IM EATING MY OWN HANDS and then he GIVES THE KID MONEY TO BUY MORE ICE CREAM. jesus christ smoker big d*ick big tits big heart i fucking love him good god", "something something vague moaning sounds I would call him smokey just to provoke him", "

Trafalgar Law: "DR. Slut", "He has them tattoos which makes me go fucking feral", "A stoner greasy boyfailure", "the edgy emo orphan boy with daddy issues", 'My tried stressed bitch", "law is hot because hes pathetic has tattoos and is the narrative's favorite punching", "i am DERANGED over a depressed formerly-suicidal surgeon",

Yamato: "I need my trans man big naturals...... I know nothing about one piece but yamato lives rent free in my brain and my heart at all times the only anime figure i have is of him and i don't even watch the fucking show", "he's new + he's trans + he's over 8 feet tall + he's a wolf god what more could you want?!", "he is filled to the brim with TRANSMASC SWAG", "it's transmasc dog boy swag for me he's my best boy", "Yamato's boobs call to me I need to motorboat yamato titties. whoa who said that", "yamato could crush me and i would thank him yes indeed", "I just found out Yamato is Literally a whole entire meter taller than me & that's all the convincing I need", "my canon transmasc king", "cant compete with is the fact that on top of beautiful yamato is just. fucking huge like i can not will not get over it every time i remember he's 8'7 in canon I'm like aaaAaaAaAAaAAAAaa kiss me on the mouth big boy", "as an aroace person. if yamato stepped on me id thank him. thank you for your time", "hes literally the whole reason i started watching/reading one piece

Zoro: "The President of the strawhat's local big titty committee", "The king of boobs", "Beautiful butch dyke wife", I would probably get an STD but it would be worth it, "his stupidity and gay attire make him very appealing", canonically the biggest tits in one piece, He got them big naturals, "Big honkabadonkaroo hoinkybadinkirs massive man tiddies Zoro", "Zoro oozes 'I won't let anyone hurt you' energy", "zoro is hot because of his big naturals

Zeff: "He will wine and dine me before leaving me lovingly bedridden the day after. And he actually takes care of his kid", "Zeff is honorable and can cook and clean and bathes and almost dies for a kid that's not his and then adopts him" He's got line cook energy. If you know you know

I definitely know I'm going to have to add to this since there's so many more characters and you all are definitely going to get more creative after seeing the list.

And a few observations. Why did Sanji make the daddy list and not Zoro? Characters that I thought would be short cliff notes turned into some of the longest sections And characters I thought would have some of the longest sections turned into some of the shortest ones. And I still think this was worse theyn JJK I just forget how unhinged this fandom can be because your unhinged craziness is dispersed amongst so many characters. And I haven't decided which fandom's next.

I now have my answer on why Sanji made the list and not Zoro. Overall the fandom is just thirsty so very thirsty. Hence the many updates to this list

Commentary added as of May 4th.

Characters that I never thought I would ever add to this post are on here and I am so confused. When I started this blog, I was warned that the JJK fandom was unhinged horny and thirsty AF. But in my opinion, the one piece fandom is much worse. Just look at this post for proof. One Piece you guys are definitely the thirstiest fandom by far I mean Catherine Devon has a section. You guys just hide it better than the JJK Fandom. Plus I do regret challenging a few of you to come up with tags as a joke because you definitely delivered

[writefightandflightclub]

The light is blinding (Joel Miller x fem!reader)

Summary: When he's hurt, you offer to wash Joel's hair for him. Turns out there may be other forms of comfort you can offer him too.

Genres: character study; angst (sorta); hurt/comfort; SMUT. Joel's POV.

Author's note: I watched TLOU ep 1 last night, then made bad choices today in favour of hyperfocussing on this 8k Joel fic. I mean, this was sort of inevitable tbf. We've been handed a sad, scruffy, brown-eyed, dusty apocalypse DILF, and there was no chance of me not adopting him as a blorbo. Anyway, this is my first attempt at Joel, I wrote this in a trance so god knows what it says and I haven't spent any time on editing/correcting. Can't promise it's any good, but if you want to wash his hair as much as I do (lol) maybe you'll enjoy it, who knows. P.s. I promise it does get super smutty. You just have to survive the extensive internal monologue and many rounds of haircare first. (I'm just like that :P)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Minors interacting will be blocked. EXPLICIT SMUT (unprotected p in v sex, totally ignoring practicalities like birth control in the apocalypse bc we can); canon-typical themes such as grief, apocalypse, infection/disease, trauma, injury. SPOILERS - if you know the core plot points or have seen episode one you'll be okay. Joel's POV.

Word count: 8.2k

GIF by @joelmjller (Pls lemme know if you'd like me to remove this!)

How did he get here, exactly? All stretched out on his back, your careful fingers twining through his wetted, grizzled hair?

Well, he supposes he got here because a smuggling deal had gone sideways - like usual.

He got here, because he’s getting too old for this shit, and because someone precisely young enough for this shit had garnered the advantage just long enough to land a gun barrel blow to his head. A blow which then made room for all manner of nonsense, of course; like Joel being teep kicked into a desk. The desk - owing to its sturdy construction and deliciously planed hardwood - had withstood the blow. Joel’s body, however -far less sturdily constructed - had reacted far less favourably to that particular transaction.

Most of all though, cracked ribs and busted shoulder aside, Joel is here, because of you. He is here, because you offered to wash his hair.

Joel isn’t a clean man, by any stretch. Who could be anymore, with the way things are? In truth, he’s forgotten what it’s like not to be coated with a layer of dirt and smoke and ash. But apparently, even in the midst of an apocalypse, the dried-in, caked-up, days old blood matting his hair had left something to be desired.

He’d agreed to your offer only because - honestly - it was starting to itch. Because this time he truly couldn’t do it himself, the searing pain in his ribs seeing to that. Making sure he couldn’t quite raise his arm high enough or dip his head low enough to get the job done.

He’d agreed to your offer, in part, because he thought you would be quick. And - he now realises - you are being anything but.

You have him stretched out on his back, on a repurposed dentist chair. The worn, dark green leather creaks beneath him as he adjusts, positioning himself just so. You’ve installed a makeshift neck rest and basin to the rear of the chair, and Joel’s head is currently dipped backwards into the warm water, your fingers diligently combing through the strands to release the debris and muck.

You use a cup to cascade the water from the basin over his head, cupping it with the other hand to guard his face and neck from any rogue rivulets. Then, you ease your fingertips over his scalp, massaging in circles, being extra careful -he notes- around his recently closed wound.

Yes, to Joel’s dismay, you are taking your time. You are being so thorough and so attentive, in fact, that Joel even wonders if you will end up washing the gray right out of his hair - Joel’d never been wholly convinced that his newly-developed colouring was ever anything more than a thick, impenetrable layer of dirt and ash.

You hum thoughtfully, a sweet, innocuous note as you assess your next step. “I’m switching out the water, okay?”

That doesn’t sound okay at all. That doesn’t sound done. And Joel had thought that this would be quick. Had needed this to be quick.

Before he can grunt an answer though, you are winding a towel around his hair, presumably attempting to save the drips from reaching the floor as you swap out one basin for another, setting down the one now filled with muddy brown water, and bending carefully to lift a second steaming basin of fresh water on to your makeshift plinth.

He needs to stop this here. “That’ll do,” he says gruffly, motioning to sit up -carefully- despite the pain in his ribs.

“Lie back,” you insist, the sound of your voice muffled through the towel wound over his ears but soothing nevertheless. “I’ve only managed to rinse out the blood and bird’s nests so far. We still need to wash and condition.”

Joel would protest more vigorously -means to, in fact- but the soft smile on your face dissolves him like sugar before he can do so.

He frowns though, for good measure. “Fine. Just make it quick.”

“The quicker you relax Joel,” you sing song, “the faster I’ll let you out of my seat. Deal?”

He grunts. He doesn’t relax. He can’t relax.

“And,” you add playfully, as if reading his mind. “If you can’t relax, you’d better learn fast to fake it.”

Joel sighs deeply in frustration as he lies back, and you usher him gently into position. However, the slow, deep breath he expels does genuinely serve to sink him more deeply into the chair. Does force him to release just a jot of the tension snaking through his taut muscles.

You hum again, softly, in satisfaction, and he thinks he can even hear a smile on your mouth as you foam his hair with some sweet-smelling product, your fingers resuming their careful ministrations across his scalp.

It’s nice, he notes, unwilling as he is to admit it. Your touch could knock him out better than a barrel full of oxy and a bottle of the good stuff. He almost lets himself enjoy it - an attractive woman like you working your hands into his hair, massaging with your thumbs, your fingers, your palms. Applying pressure and sensation, even into the tight muscles in his neck. Loosening some of the tension at his temples. He even consciously relaxes his forehead, feeling his frown soften. Closing his eyes instead of fixing his stare on the broken picture rail he’s sure he could fix with a few tools and a little bit of effort.

He breathes more deeply as he closes his eyes, focussing in on the sensation of your touch. On the scents flooding his nose. Floral and sweet and fruity. It smells of you, and he breathes it deeply. He tries not to think about how his pillow will smell of you later.

It shouldn’t be possible for you to smell as good as you do, Joel ponders. You even have him wondering whether perhaps he’s not the only game in town. Whether there’s another smuggler dealing in contraband which hasn’t even occurred to him to barter with. Perfumes and oils and essences. He doubts that you would be mixed up in smuggling, but he doesn’t doubt that you are capable of far more than surface-level assessments might suggest.

After all, people only survive this long with one of two things: brutality, or blind luck - and no-one is that lucky that they’ve never had to dabble in the former. Everyone who has made it this far is only out for themselves.

Therefore, who knows what secrets you hide behind your sweet facade, Joel contemplates. Though, if he did have to believe there was anyone selfless left on god’s blighted earth? If he had to believe in someone, Joel would bet cards on it being you.

He sucks in another long, slow breath, and the scent of you envelops him all over again. For a moment, he finds himself wanting to believe in you. But it’s never too long before he recalls he gave up a long time ago on believing in anything. Anything except his wits and his fists and his gun, at least.

“That’s it Joel,” you praise as he relaxes - uncoils - just a shade, and the smooth tone of your voice slides right under his skin. The thought that you want to make him feel good makes him tingle. Makes him forget - almost - that he doesn’t deserve that.

Meanwhile, your deft fingers and thumbs continue to work nimbly into him, sliding over the contours and bones and ridges of his skull. Applying a warm, steady pressure against the muscles at the nape of his neck. Circling your thumb against a spot that sends a buzzing, suffusing warmth skittering down the length of his spine. Blooming through him - and, it has been so long. So long since Joel felt anything resembling pleasure that when he feels this warm honey trail down his back, an involuntary moan overspills his parted lips.

Shit. There's no chance that you didn't hear that.

The moan reverberates in the tight, quiet room. Lingers far longer than it sounds out for. Lingers, despite how quickly Joel cuts it short - clamping his mouth shut and hoping he can pass it off as a grunt or some expulsion of pain from shifting in his chair.

Your fingers halt, still tangled in his hair. “D-Do you want me to stop?” There is a heat in your tone, Joel thinks, the vowels and consonants warm and full like the pop and crackle of a hearth.

It's new. And it occurs to him, ever so suddenly, that maybe you are enjoying this too? Touching him?

After all, he’s not insisting upon it. Didn’t suggest it. Has not attempted to prolong it. And yet, you continue, working diligently. Soothing him. Freely offering your praise and those little, contented hums - those small, burgeoning sounds which make his fingertips ache to have your skin beneath them, so that he can keep on making your lips overspill with those sweet sounds of satisfaction.

Indeed, Joel’s hair has got to be cleaner now than it’s ever been. He’s been in your chair longer than he ever intended - and you don’t seem to be working any other angle. Don’t seem to be after any contraband that he can get his hands on. Haven’t submitted any requests. Fished for any information.

Perhaps then, you are enjoying him. Enjoying performing this act of service for him - though god knows why. Perhaps you are even looking down at his body right now while he’s all laid out for you in this worn-out chair. His long limbs stretched out, clothes tugging taut over his tight, muscular frame. Perhaps you like looking at him like this, his hair slicked back and away from his sharp face and his hawkish nose, watching the twist and pull of the muscles as he sets his jaw - needing to consolidate all of his resolve simply to resist your sweet, sugary touches. Perhaps you liked when you watched his eyes flutter closed under your touch. When you watched his lips part with that sound. That throaty, undone moan, all for you.

Joel’s not stupid.

He’s clocked the way you look at him sometimes. With this gentle, inviting hunger. The way you always make the effort to come over and speak with him whenever opportunity presents itself. The way your appealing body bends to him like a flower to its sun, as though he has anything nourishing about him. As though he has anything but darkness to offer.

He’s clocked you too. Has seen the way kindness and warmth dance across your features like a living, licking flame. Has seen you glow brightly too with a steady, constant fire, which he is sure must run hotter and more fierce beneath the surface than any would estimate. He had noticed too, of course, the swell and contours of your body, hiding beneath your clothes in all the places he most enjoys.

He’s thought before how he’d like to find out where the hunger in your eyes could take him if he chased it; but in the end he knows there is never any further to go than here. That every road is a dead end since the world ended. That the quarantine zone is the only place with walls more impenetrable than his own.

Still; he’s thought about you more than he’d care to admit. To Tommy. To Tess. To you. To himself. Has thought about the way your lips might feel on his. How soft and warm your body might be if he held it up against him. The way his calloused hands might look with his fingers sunk into your flesh, grabbing up handfuls of you like you are his daily bread - the very thing he needs to survive.

Of burying his head between your thighs for hours and trying to suck the impossible sweetness out of you, as though, somehow, he could then begin to understand how someone as good as you is capable of existing in a world as shitty and cruel as this.

He’s had darker thoughts too though. Thoughts of filling you rough and sudden - if you’d let him. Of burying his anger in you with every thrust, deep enough that he could attempt to forget it. Of letting you take his rage from him for just a few moments - as if it could ever truly leave him for a moment longer than that.

But of course, in actuality, he’s done none of that. Joel hasn’t pulled on a single one of those threads. He hasn’t unravelled.

Instead, for the most part, Joel has simply ignored you. Ignored you, because that’s the precisely the last thing he wants to do. Ignored you, because the safest option - Joel has established - is usually to give himself the opposite of whatever he thinks he wants.

That is… he’s ignored you until today. Until you offered to wash his hair. A simple yet towering offer of kindness in a world blighted by dark and rot. An offer that feels like more than he deserves when all he’s ever done for you is to give you the brush off. To answer you tersely, his aim with every interaction to have it over quick.

Still… he’d said yes. Or, at least, he’d declined to protest. Had nodded. Had followed you.

If he’s being honest with himself, he could have asked Tommy to help him, even if he was trying to obscure the severity of his latest injuries from his dear ol’ brother. Even Tess - she’d have done it. With plenty of griping, but she would have done it.

The truth is though, that he wanted it to be you. Needed it to be you. He’d gravitated towards you, even before he knew what you might be prepared to give him. Even without any trade to offer. For you, he’d unravelled. Just a little; in a moment of weakness. He hasn’t slept and he hasn’t succeeded and he hasn’t succumbed for so long, that he finally slipped. Finally gave into one of his wants. Finally gave in to what he wanted most. To seat himself in front of the warm hearth of you and to feel a little god dang comfort.

Joel opens his eyes, expression washing clean with a new resolve, and your fingers still frozen in his hair. He fixes his gaze on the broken picture rail. Precisely at the point where it fractures. Where it needs fixing. He needs a little fixing too, he thinks. He’s sure now, that he’s chosen the right tool for the job, when not another damn thing could do it.

“No,” he finally responds, his voice unwavering, blinking his bitter coffee eyes, sweetened already by your sugar. A gentle gulp sinking down the corded column of his neck. “I don’t want you to stop.”

From behind and above him, he hears you release a breath as though you may have been holding one, tight in your chest, and you slide your fingers from his hair. “Good.” Good. The word rattles pleasantly in his chest when you say it. “We’ll do your conditioner next.”

And, for the first time, Joel unclenches his fingers from where they have been curled around the arm rests of the chair, clinging on to the lip until his knuckles had turned white.

This time - for all he can tell via his scalp - your touch feels a little bolder. A little looser. You even drag your nails over his head now, applying long, sizzling scratches which send that same buzzy warmth snaking down his back. You massage him more eagerly, blood flooding to his crotch as he thinks about having your strong, supple, precise hands work him in other places. He imagines, as your nails graze over him, how you might claw harsh stripes down his back in a moment of ecstasy. As your thumb massages a circle into the spot behind his ear, imagines how you might circle the soft pad of it around the swollen head of his cock, collecting up the glistening bead of precum as he leaks for you. Imagines, as you carefully pour a cup of warm, cascading water over his head, how he could bathe himself with the warmth of your skin on his. Imagines, as he hears the subtle wet sounds created as you scrunch sweet-smelling elixirs into his hair, how it might sound if your own juices were being coaxed out of you by his fingers until they began to drip, working down his veined, muscled forearm.

He allows himself to imagine everything he plans to deny himself. He at least allows himself to have that.

“That temperature still okay for you?” you ask as you lift the cup of water once again, fracturing his sordid daydreams.

Joel gives a terse grunt. It’s all he can manage.

“So,” you ask breezily. “Are you going anywhere nice for your holidays?”

It takes Joel a few moments to realise just what you’re doing. To twig. It’s a decade - shit, more - since he had a haircut like that, so it takes him a while to pick up that you’re echoing the banal small talk which used to occur as you sat down in the barber chair. Those memory cogs are stiff. He hasn’t turned them in a long time. He doesn’t want to remember that there was anything before. At least, not a lot of it.

Still, your bit takes him by surprise. It’s such a ludicrous contrast that it makes him laugh to think about how things have changed. Who can even go on holiday now? You can’t even leave the quarantine zone. Shit. Even if you could, you wouldn’t want to. And so, Joel laughs. He laughs and he barely recognises the sound from his own mouth. He laughs… and he instantly regrets it, because he knows better than to pull on any of those threads.

But; it’s too late now.

He laughs and you mirror him, the sound melodious and hopeful, and all of a sudden Joel can imagine everything he’s been avoiding you for.

He hasn’t been avoiding you because he wants to fuck you - not really. He’s fucked plenty of folk, and he’s moved on.

He’s avoiding you, because of how easily he can imagine you in a summer dress, twirling in the yard to show it off to him. How easily he can imagine you sitting on a front porch gripping your morning cup of coffee and the sun shining on your face as you smile up at him. How easily he can imagine you lifting a tray of freshly baked cookies out of the oven, batting his hand away as he steals one before it cools.

Truthfully, he has no idea whether you ever did a single one of those things before - before all this. He doesn’t even really care whether you did. He knows it’s a flat, idealised, empty picture postcard version of you.

But, even so, it still hurts.

It still hurts, because of just how easily he could imagine waking up beside you in his house.

The house that no longer exists.

The house with Sarah in it.

And that’s why he never pulls on that thread.

That’s why he avoids you.

That’s why this can never work.

Because you?

You make him remember all the sweet things. All the sweet things the world used to contain before the rot and the death and despair painted over everything. Infected it.

You make him remember the taste of fresh mangoes. The feeling of sand beneath his feet and waves washing over his toes. Saturdays at the mall. Picking away at his guitar in the living room. The easy jubilation of ball games on the TV on Sundays, with Tommy in the kitchen plating up chicken wings. Of bad movie nights. Of mornings spent around the kitchen table, and his daughter cooking up birthday pancakes.

That’s why he can’t ever start to be happy with you. Why he can’t pull on that thread; because all the good things in life are attached to it. All tied and knotted and tangled up with “before”.

When he dreams of you - when he lets himself - he dreams of then too.

He has to, doesn’t he? Because the past is the only place to build a future when the present is apocalyptic, isn’t it? When you are the only thing he hasn’t lost yet, and everything else -pretty much- is already dead and gone.

It kills him that he found you now.

Found you too late.

It kills him because Sarah would have loved you, and because he thinks he could have too.

You don’t know all of this, of course. You can’t ever know this. And so, your oblivious fingers continue touching him, until he feels another moan begin to spool itself tight in his chest, getting ready to unravel. This time though, he is less sure whether it is a moan of pleasure or of anguish. More and more these days, those two feelings have been starting to feel precisely the same.

“Can we move this along?” he asks gruffly, some of the weight settling back into his brow. He asks, predictably, for the opposite of what he wants. It has to be like that. There’s no other road anymore.

“We can stop whenever you like but… that’s a shame.”

His frown deepens. “Why?”

“Because your hands had only just started to unclench.”

Joel’s heart clenches at the thought you were watching him that intently. That you were weighing the state and tension of his body. Valiantly trying to release some of that weight from him, even when you must be so heavy too.

And of course, knowing this, he only tries to push you further away. Before his dreams of you are seared even more brightly under his skin.

“You know what. I should go.” His chest constricts - throat grows tighter, a lump forming.

Joel idly wonders if his grief will ever stop feeling so raw. That’s the second disease, he thinks. The other monster infecting everything around it. The shadow of the original cloud. He wonders if it will always be this debilitating, even after he’s pushed it down as far as it can go. It’s not only a grief for what was lost, he ponders. It’s also a grief for what he can never have again. It's a grief for you and all the ways he could have loved you.

He sits up -carefully but abruptly, hand clamped over his aching ribs- and his wetted hair sends rivulets snaking down his face, his neck, his chest. Inching beneath the collar of his green button down shirt. Collecting on his shoulders like a pattern of indoor raindrops.

“Joel,” you scold, tutting lightly. Following quickly after him with the towel, trying to mop up after him. Hastily, you towel off his hair. Sneak your hand beneath his collar, gathering the drops up from his chest and neck.

With effort, and a grimace, Joel swings his legs around, until he is sitting upright, feet planted on the floor. But, whether for the pain or for the promise of pleasure - he’s not sure - he can’t bring himself to move any further than that. Especially not as you finally round from the basin, the damp towel slung over your shoulder, your hands and wrists still shined and wet from caressing his hair in a way he can only describe as reverent.

You kneel before him, drying your hands off and setting the towel down before boldly sliding your palms up his denim-clad thighs. “Joel. Would you just let me take care of you?"

He meets your eyes and finds them soft but determined. Empty of darkness, even with the black expanding abyss of your pupil eating away at the colour of your iris.

Joel looks down at your hands as you begin to smooth them up and down, inching slowly up towards his crotch before retreating - repeating the pattern. He looks at you in displeasure, but there’s nothing about your touch which is unwelcome - and that’s exactly the problem. He swallows. Gathers his question up in his throat before he offers it to you gently, as though in cupped, outstretched palms. “How?”

Your beautiful eyes flash with pity then, he thinks, or something like it. It seems like a silly question, but after all this time he doesn’t recall what it’s like to be cared for. He doesn’t know how to let you.

Your palm reaches up to the scruff on his cheek. You smooth it fondly. “Lie back,” you encourage, with a soft smile which seems to glow from the inside, like a porch backlit with the glow of home. “And just let me take care of the rest.”

Joel has always found something to fight for, but today, he has no fight left in him. In truth, he doesn’t want to fight this. To fight you. It is easy to give in to you. In fact, it's too easy. That has always been the problem.

Your hands continue to travel up and down his thighs, and he feels the warmth of you bleed through the fabric.

God. He’s already hard for you. Already full and throbbing in his jeans. Already, he is imagining your hands wrapping around the thick, straining mass of him. Imagining the way that -in moments - you may be unloosing his belt, threading leather through denim loop. The way you might pop the button keenly with your thumb, and he might groan as you relieve the pressure. The way you might unzip the straining fly to have his substantial length spring free, so rarely touched and so so ready to be taken care of.

At the thought of that alone, he’s straining against the seams of his pants, a pressure which sits smack bang between pleasure and pain.

“Joel,” you whisper softly, and he realises he hasn’t yet moved from his position.

“Right.” He swallows. He lies back. Stretches himself out, feeling far more exposed this time, even if he is still fully clothed.

You stand, quickly disappearing the basin away and soon you’re back, standing over Joel and watching him laid out all needy like this. His eyes travel over you, entranced by your form, and he suddenly needs friction. Needs the relief he didn't even know he was waiting for until you offered it - or, implied it. He bucks his hips up, not even caring if he’s being subtle, and the denim and leather creak as he shifts. He punches out a breath as he strains in his pants, chasing any morsel of friction he can. The feeling of his shaft pushing harder against the seam as his whole cock twitches for you. For those hands. For that plush mouth. Maybe for that cunt of yours.

As usual though, when Joel feels anything good, there is a familiar swell of guilt too; this time, riding in on the flood of arousal to his cock. This time, there’s something new to be feeling guilty for too. Something to add to that already long list. He feels guilty for having all of these thoughts about you, despite never having asked you where you were from. Before. What you used to do. Who you lost.

“I’m sorry,” Joel offers, before he even knows that his mouth is moving. Before he’s even figured out what it is he’s sorry for.

Truth is, he’s sorry for so many reasons. For what he’s done. What he’s lost. Whatever you’ve lost. For not asking you about it. Mainly, he realises, because he can’t make you any promises. None that he could keep. Not to keep you safe. He can’t promise you that.

He thinks you’ll ask him what for - why he’s sorry. But instead, you say something else.

“Don’t be.”

If only it was that easy.

Even so, he looks into your eyes as your hungry gaze skims the length of his body, settling at the bulge at his crotch as you drag your tongue along the pillow of your lower lip. You’re beautiful. Vibrant. Full of life and lust and hunger. Alive in a dead world; and suddenly, it doesn’t matter one bit to Joel where you came from. It doesn’t matter what happened before. It only matters where you’re going. What you want. How he can give it to you.

But it is you who gives him something.

You hinge at the hips, slanting your mouth against Joel’s, and he feels your lips brush up against the scruff on his top lip. Feels the pillow of your plush mouth meet his before your tongue fleets out, licking into him like a searing, dancing flame. You hum hungrily into his mouth and his lips chase you as you pull away, another backlit smile dancing on your face, your features already beginning to resemble home to him in a world where there's no such thing.

Joel watches you move now, with quiet fascination, as you kick off your boots. As you wiggle your pleasing hips, untying then easing your cargo pants and panties down your thighs. His tongue curls around his lip as he is gifted glimpses of your skin - although you are still covered to your upper thigh by the yellow tunic top you’re wearing - and now he can’t help but palm himself through his jeans for a morsel of relief.

Still. What you're about to offer him? It feels like far too much. “What are you doing? You don’t have to-“

“-Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop,” you promise, meeting his eyes, open and honest and ready to back off if he doesn’t want this. But shit, how could he not want you? Look at you - and so he can’t. He can’t possibly tell you that, even though he thinks that he should.

“No. God, I want you,” Joel pleads, voice hollowed-out with need. All spent, like ash.

“And you’re going to have me.”

You kick your pants and panties off, leaving them to pool discarded on the floor, and Joel palms himself a little harder, grabbing the fat roll of himself through the denim as he catches a glimpse. They’re nothing sexy, of course; but from the way they’ve fallen he is able to note the telltale wet spot on the crotch. It looks like you’ve soaked them through, and God he wants to feel your wetness for himself.

You ease over him, settling your knees on to either side of the leather chair, where Joel’s legs are stretched out before him, sturdy thighs slightly parted to accommodate the arousal between his legs.

You’re still wearing your tunic top, bright yellow like sunshine, and the length of it dances and clings at intervals to your hips and thighs as you move. It’s driving him wild that you are bare beneath. All he can think about is that warm, delicious wetness of yours spilling over him. God, he wants to hear it. Wants to squeeze it out of you. Wants it to drip down the veined shaft of him.

You straddle his thighs, knees folded, the soles of your feet pointed up towards your ass cheeks, and your heat settles just below his own - not quite grinding over him, but tantalisingly close.

You take a moment like this to simply look at him. To gaze into his coffee brown eyes as though there’s something more to him than being sorry and bitter. Like you could see anything sweet there. Anything worth wanting. Then, you comb his damp hair back with your fingers, drawing the strands back from his forehead. Tucking and curling them around his ears.

Your touch - your tenderness - makes him ache. Makes him throb. Makes him want to bury himself in you. His tongue, his fingers, his cock, his feelings - anything of him you’ll take. And, as he wraps his arms around you a wracked moan unspools from his chest as his rough fingertips find the soft skin beneath your yellow tunic. As his touch traverses the contours of you he’s always admired from a distance.

As his jaw falls open, slack with desire, you drink down his moan, catching the resonant sound in the cave of your mouth. Kissing him with a gentle yet constant hunger. With a red hot spark of deviance in your sweet eyes which almost makes Joel spill creamy ropes into his pants there and then. Your tongue travels along your lower lip. Your gaze drops, lust dark and heavy to the bulge at his crotch, and you unloop his belt with those hands of yours. They'll look small next to the size of him, he thinks. He likes that thought a lot.

“Let’s see what contraband you’re smugglin’ in these pants of yours, cowboy," you smile, and Joel's eyes crinkle with rare amusement. His face tips up with a lopsided smile which is quick to drop - all of him focussed on where you're about to touch him.

He twitches eagerly in his jeans thinking about how tight you will grip him, but you don’t touch him just yet. Instead, you shuffle yourself back, down his legs, giving yourself enough space to tug on his clothing and to ease it down his thighs. Once his pants and his boxers have reached his knees you stop there, abandoning them almost as soon as his thick, veined length is sprung free, nestling all tender against the hatch of greying hair trailing down his abdomen - where his shirt is lifted.

He’s flushed a deep colour already. Veined and needy and weeping for you. His need becomes even more urgent yet as he thinks of your hands and the way they move - the way they might touch him. Take care of him. As he thinks about you sliding your thumb over the pearl of precum at his head.

Still, he is not quite ready for the feeling when you dip forward to slide your tongue around the head of him instead, gathering that salty bead with your tongue, lapping it up with relish. He feels you hum around the head of him, the vibration sending a zip of pleasure flooding along his length. Making his balls tighten and ache already.

He wants you. He needs you. He wants you with an urgency, and yet here you are, still taking your time. Taking your time to suck at him and feel him weigh heavy over your tongue until your jaw aches from it. To grip him in your hand and marvel at the girth of him. At the way he is so sensitive that every motion and shift of your pattern makes him melt into the chair, increasingly boneless, his brow burdened with need.

You are tender with him. Careful, of his injuries. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? You touch him like he’s wounded; everywhere. His whole body. His whole soul too. And he is, isn’t he? All of him is hurting? Has been for so long?

Joel groans, his lip almost splitting from biting down and stifling his moans. He never was a vocal lover but God, it’s different for you. And this time, the sound punches out of him as you shift. As you settle your cunt over him and he feels your sopping heat glide along his length for the first time. It is a non-descript sound, halfway between pain and pleasure; and instantly, concern flashes in your eyes. You pause; lift off of him with a rise of your thighs and check-in with him.

“Joel. Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”

Are you? His breath is searing in and out of his lungs. Ragged breaths, jolting his pained ribs. You have him on the edge and so alight with desire for you that his need feels unbearable. He’s aching to fill you up. His face is contorted and crumpled by his need, brows drawn down, eyes half-lidded. But is this pain? Or is this something else? Something he has forgotten.

For a moment, then, he almost answers “yes”. Yes, because he doesn’t remember anything else but pain and so, the sensation he’s feeling now? Isn’t that pain too? Is there anything else?

He’s almost grateful when he shifts slightly, writhes against the chair to buck his hips keenly up in search of you as you withdraw so cruelly from him, his muscles coiling up. He’s grateful that the shift does indeed send pain blooming through his side; because he knows then, with certainty, that you are bringing him nothing but pleasure.

He’s grateful too though, for the pain, because a pleasure like this? A pure hit of it, not cut through with anything he's more used to? Joel thinks it would be too much for him to take. Joel thinks you are too much for him. Far more than he deserves.

“Joel?” you prompt, sliding your palm against his scruff. He hears it rasp like a scraped match. “I want you.”

You don’t want me, the voice in his head sounds out. I have nothing I can give you. But those are not the words that make it to his lips. Those are not the words at all. “Then have me, sweetheart.”

Joel may have nothing he feels he can give you, but holy shit he wants everything you are offering. He wants your plush, velvet mouth. Your smooth thighs. He wants the pooling slick between your legs - and for once, just this once, he intends to allow himself to satisfy his needs.

He figures he will simply owe you a debt. Find something that you want or need and acquire it for you. He simply has to think of this like a transaction, doesn’t he? Something familiar. Something he knows. That way, he’s not taking anything he doesn’t deserve - and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve you.

Once invited back to his body, sure of what he wants, you kiss him. Deeply, hungrily, your tongue rolling and writhing against his. Your breaths just as ragged as his. Your thighs quaking next to his, your want more than evident.

You break for air and you rise up on your knees again so that you can settle over him, notching the fat, swollen head of him against your folds.

You look like a dream on top of him, and with this yellow fabric dancing about your thighs, you look to Joel like you’re wearing a sun dress. Indeed, when he looks up at you - when he blocks everything else out - you make it feel like nothing ever happened. Like nothing was ever lost.

You look just like you’re about to fuck him on his bed on white crisp sheets. Like you’ll fall asleep beside him and in the morning he’ll make you breakfast.

You look like everything he wanted and found far too late.

You are beautiful. You are good. You are gentle. Gentle still. Gentle despite everything. And where on earth did you learn that from - how on earth did you hang on to it - in a world like this? A world which has not been gentle with him. Which has been out to get him at every turn.

You are gentle with him, even when he is undeserving. Even when he has been anything but.

Gingerly then, you settle yourself over him, and once his head is notched there and your slick hand is guiding him home, he slips easily past your folds. His eyes flutter closed as he feels your warmth wrap around him, the tightness of you hugging his girth. You’re so tight that he feels like he must be splitting you apart, but the way you’re shaking for him, the way these delicious moans unravel from your mouth tells him it feels just as good for you too.

You’re gentle with him. Sinking down on him slowly. Being ever so cautious of his ribs and his bruises and scrapes. You’re making him feel so good. So close to coming undone.

But god, he’s not planning on being gentle with you.

There’s a part of Joel that wants to make love to you, sure; but he’s not even sure he’d know how to do that anymore. How to be tender. How to be gentle. And so, he reaches for you in the only way he knows how. Reaches for you with his arms, his hands. With a body that doesn’t remember pleasure - not really. With a soul that doesn’t remember anything good - not really. He reaches for you, with hands that only know how to kill things.

In the end, it’s clunky, when he extends his touch towards you. Rough - and far too desperate. He reaches for you like it’s survival - the one thing he knows how to do - and he claws at your hips, the rough pads of his flesh sinking into your skin like dough. He has the sense, at least, to check with you, to ask with words rasped through gravel in his throat if he can fill you up. And as soon as you say yes, as soon as your breathy affirmatives and pleas lilt to his ears, Joel is dragging you down on him. Spearing you -abrupt and sudden- with the fat length of his dick, surging into you all at once.

The motion, along with the sudden swell of him punches a breath from your lungs, your rib cage flaring with quick short pants. Your eyes, rolling back into your skull as you mewl his name, and god, if he wasn’t hurt he’d be drilling into you already, fucking himself up into you at a brutal pace, so long as you’d let him.

“S-sorry,” he stutters, with effort. “Too much?”

“Almost. Joel - fuck. I’m so full of you.”

He stills as you breathe around him, adjusting to his size, and as soon as you’re ready you rise up on your knees, dragging electric pleasure all along his shaft as your cunt strokes and grips him tightly.

Then, when you sink yourself down once more, impaling yourself on his length, Joel screws his eyes shut as he eases -glides- into the wet, warm cushion of you all over again. You’re so soft and tight and forgiving, your walls relenting to the girth of him, yet providing such glorious friction that it makes his head spin. Makes him see spots, the edges of his vision whiting out.

Next, Joel moves too, adjusting his hips slightly. Helping you impale yourself on him over and over like this. He keeps it going, despite the burn of pain in his ribs and his shoulder. He tries to guide you with the claws of his hands at your hips, until it begins to hurt him too much. Until all he can do is lie back and take it from you. All he can do is feel it, emitting gusty, billowing breaths from the shocked “o” of his plush lips as he attempts to stave of his end. To do all he can to take care of your end too before he spills himself.

He needs to. Needs to take care of you like this, because he can’t offer you any other damn thing.

He can’t promise to take care of you.

He can’t promise that to anyone ever again.

He will only break it.

So, no promises. But surely, he can feel pleasure, for these fleeting moments? Surely, he can give you that too, because even if he doesn’t he’s damn sure you deserve at least that much.

He reaches for you. In desperation again. Like it’s survival. Like he can’t live without this. Without you. Even though he has already. Even though he'll have to again.

For now though, for right now, he's filling you all the way up. Squeezing your juices out of you. Pushing them out with every thrust until he’s fucking you with wet, obscene sounds. Until your slick is coursing down his shaft, coating his balls, inching over him.

With a grunt, Joel gathers some slick with the two forefingers of his left hand, and he rubs the calloused pads of his fingers into your clit. You yowl at the pressure -the pleasure- and then you guide him with your hand over his, Joel quickly learning your pace and your patterns, replicating it perfectly when you release your guiding touch.

It feels so good. It feels so good and your eager, pleasured moans are billowing down to him, your cunt clenching down on him and his dick is feeling fucking blissful as you repeatedly sink yourself. It feels good - so good - and it’s more than he deserves but god, he’s going to take it. He's going to take it even if he has to be punished for it later.

He’s pretty sure the world has been punishing him for years anyway. Pretty sure it’s keeping score and will be sure to let him know about it if he dares to take too much.

For now though.

Holy shit.

It feels so good and you’re so beautiful. So perfect. Better than he could have imagined, his flattened daydreams of you nothing compared to the real thing. You’re a vision, and you’re too good for this blighted earth and you’re every bit deserving of the life Joel knows he can never give you.

It’s bittersweet and you’re beautiful; but you’re too beautiful to look at - bright like the sun in your yellow tunic, fabric moving around your thighs like a sun dress, like something you might have worn in the before times. Like you might have worn in his yard if he’d still had a home to offer you. Maybe. Maybe you would've. It kills him that he'll never know. Never know what you could have had. What he could have given you.

You’re beautiful, and god you’re too beautiful to look at and so he drags you down to his lips as you clamp down around him, squeezing him like a vice, causing pleasure to sear white hot from his middle, creamy ropes of cum filling you up as you convulse. Your spasming cunt sends jolting aftershocks zipping through his length, ekeing every last drop from him, draining him dry.

You’re too beautiful. Too good of a thing for him to hold on to - and so Joel keeps kissing you, his hands coming to cup your face as tenderly as his killing hands know how. Kissing you, for long enough that he can quash the tears which threaten to squeeze out from the corners of his eyes. He kisses you softly, his sentiments dissolving like sugar against your mouth - as sweet as he can muster.

He kisses you, until he feels the shape of your mouth morph into a smile, and that’s it. That's when he stops.

That’s when he stops, because he can’t let himself feel this. He can’t let himself feel this because he can’t pull on that thread. Not when everything he has worked so hard to push down is all knotted and tangled together. Everything he’s loved and everything he’s lost, all bundled up in his chest.

He can’t let himself feel this because it was far more than he expected to feel.

He’d thought that you would be quick. Thought -hoped- you were just using him. Like this was a transaction. That maybe this was how you collect advantages. How you’ve managed to survive. Instead though, you gave, and you took, but it was not transactional in the slightest. And Joel has nothing left in his heart or his pockets except ration cards. Nothing he can give you in return.

Most importantly though, he can’t let himself feel this, because happiness died when the world did.

Died when she did.

And, happiness?

Well - Joel doesn’t believe he deserves to feel it again.

That’s why he encourages you off of him a little too quickly, even when you pepper kisses along the column of his neck. Why he moves away a little too abruptly, even when you tongue hungrily at the salt-slick sweat which has pooled in the hollow of his throat. Why he sets his face, all stern again even as he’s still leaking out of you.

Anyway, he stands, grunting out in pain. Maybe in anguish. Pulling his pants up with his good arm, and preparing to go.

He sets his face, and he looks back at you, where you have huddled yourself in his spot on the chair, your makeshift yellow sun dress hitched up around your hips, exposing where you glisten, all slick with the evidence of what he just did with you.

You're beautiful. Too beautiful. You look like summer when he meets your eyes. A sun that is bright and constant, like it used to be before the rot clouded over the skies.

A light that is far too bright for him.

Part of him expects you to look sad. To look surprised that he has leapt up like this, motioning to leave so violently. Expects you to plead with him to give you more; but instead, you look at him levelly. Knowing, not naive. Maybe you too are clear on the limits of what’s possible. Clear that there are some things that can never be.

Still, as that soft smile plays over your face, as Joel holds the memory of your touch over his body, the bitter coffee look in his eyes sweetens just a little.

“Listen. Thanks," he states brusqely. It’s not enough. Not by any stretch. But unless you want some contraband or some shit, it’s all he’s got.

“No problem, Joel-y. I... I just wanted to take care of you. I thought you deserved that - at least once.”

Tears prick at the corners of Joel’s eyes. Stinging; but pushed down and flattened before you can even notice it. He’s not quite sure. Not quite sure whether hearing you say he deserves something he’s sure that he doesn’t counts as pleasure or pain, but he supposes that it doesn’t matter anymore anyway. He’s back to not knowing the difference. Not recognising pleasure or happiness when they stare him in the face, because now they have become strangers.

Joel nods efficiently at you. Picks up his rucksack and moves towards the doorway, trying not to think about the fact you’re still full of him. About the fact that you’re still smiling, that backlit glow of home imviting him in.

Truth be told, he can’t imagine ever being happy again.

If he could imagine it though? If he could imagine being happy, he’s sure as all hell that it would be with you.

You’re like summer, he thinks. Bright. Luminous. It's just that Joel’s not looking for the light.

For someone who’s so used to the dark? Like him? The light is blinding.

Still, he pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you for one moment more. From the surprise on your face now, he can tell you didn’t even expect that much from him - and by God, you deserve so much better.

His eyes sweeten, just a little further, and his face sets - now with a different kind of resolve. He offers his words, like they’re cupped in outstretched palms. Like he could be gentle. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t owe me a debt, Joel.”

He nods, but that doesn’t mean at all that he accepts your assertion.

His eyes tick over to the broken picture rail, right where it fractures. His gaze lingers on it for a moment, cataloguing what tools he might need to fix it. Clocking the picture frames of salvaged art you have leaning up against the wall, not yet hung.

“I said, I'll make it up to you.” You nod efficiently back at him, and Joel drinks one more long measure of you in before he leaves. Maybe it's not quite a promise, but right now, it's all he's got.

He’d burn the world down for you, he thinks, if it could change a damn thing.

Thing is though, the world has already burned.

He can’t make you many promises. Can’t keep you safe. Make you happy. Offer you a home.

He’ll only let you down.

Maybe all of that is true. Maybe it is - but Joel knows one thing for sure. You’re brighter than the sun, and, in a world full of darkness? He just can’t look away, even though you’re blinding.

[downtroddendeity]

@turnkeyassurance saw your tags and figured I'd take the opportunity to pause my descent into madness to give my more sober opinions on the Ni no Kuni franchise, lol. (Warning: I am a humongous JRPG nerd)

The NNK games are really odd ducks, quality-wise. You can call either one a good game or a bad game and call either one better than the other, and any combination of those opinions can be something I think is entirely justified. Both of them have things they do remarkably well and also serious, profound, deal-breaking flaws, and the really weird thing is that there's almost no overlap between those two lists for the two games. What clicks and doesn't about both of them is going to be deeply individual.

What Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch does, with resounding success, is Vibes. It sets out at every single step with the goal of being a playable Ghibli movie, and it sticks to that principle. It's all about beautiful, cel-shaded whimsy. It's a game for people who want to feel like they're wandering through the meadows in the movie version of Howl's Moving Castle. There are lots of puns, and you can befriend all the random encounter monsters and feed them ice cream.

But that's also its Achilles' heel: because it's dedicated entirely to imitation, it has trouble bringing things to the table that are really its own. It has the visual and narrative aesthetics of Hayao Miyazaki's films, but it doesn't have the raw emotion at the heart of them. And as a game, its mechanics combine the clunkiest features of menu-based combat and action RPGs, and while everything about the Pokemon-esque mechanics seems designed to encourage players to collect and experiment with them, the balancing turns attempting to do that into a miserable grindy nightmare.

The other problem is that it... isn't actually the first Ni no Kuni game. Wrath of the White Witch is, in fact, a remake of the Nintendo DS game Ni no Kuni: Dominion of the Dark Djinn, which was never released outside Japan. The reason for this is pretty easy to explain, because DDD had another gimmick besides its aesthetics: it came with a real-life physical copy of the wizard spellbook, and the player had to look things up in it and draw sigils on the DS touchscreen to cast spells. So, we've got a high-effort remake that had to completely cut the central mechanic... and which also expanded the plot so that the original main villain was no longer the primary antagonist. This results in a game with what is very clearly a final dungeon and very clearly a final boss and very clearly a resolution to the story, which suddenly has a completely different plot dropped on it like a fucking anvil that it expects you to be just as invested in even though it hasn't had anything like the same level of buildup.

And ironically, this is almost the exact opposite of the biggest problem with Ni no Kuni 2: Revenant Kingdom, a.k.a. the one with my new blorbo, the President of the United Union of Eagleland. 2 is an effort to try to cement an identity for the series that can be its own, rather than requiring them to depend indefinitely on borrowed Miyazaki nostalgia. It just has the teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy problem that at some point in development it had a budget shortfall so bad that you can finish the game without ever realizing that there is a continent-sized crashed interdimensional spaceship on the world map.

This game has had a machete taken to it. Don't get me wrong, I genuinely respect the work they did to make what they could with what they had, but you can see the signs of massive scope cuts to literally every aspect of the game. The back half of the game has almost exclusively recycled enemy and environment assets; voice acting has been trimmed down to canned voice clips; the catboy protagonist's ears and tail are barely animated; one minigame was so inadequately playtested that a level 16 mission is massively harder than level 50 ones; and while whatever restructuring they had to do to the main plot still left the final version with a more solid and coherent central arc than WWW in my opinion, it also left a lot of truly gaping plot holes, like oh, I don't know, why the President of the United States got turned into a 19-year-old.

Literally, they just. Entirely forgot to explain that. Half the DLC is just the writers scrambling to fix stuff like that and add a bunch of character development that should have been in the base game.

However, despite all this, I personally enjoyed NNK2 more than NNK1 unironically, not just for Rolandposting reasons. Compared to the first one, it plays much more smoothly as a straight action RPG, and while it can't provide the same knock-your-socks-off aesthetic cohesion, to me it seemed a lot more heartfelt- that is, like a game that was made because people had a story they wanted to tell.

But, well, we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the non-unironic reasons, because the story they really, genuinely wanted to tell was about a magical catboy growing up and learning to become a leader, and somehow, miraculously, they really thought that was the story I was here for too when they opened the game with the President of the United States being isekaied by Nuke-kun.

Sorry, guys, I have a crippling addiction to dramatic irony and my day job is tech work in local politics, you could not have more laser-targeted this at making me specifically laugh my ass off if you tried.

[zahri-melitor]

Is Zdarksy’s Batman run actually bad, or is it just messy?

I actually like Zdarsky's current Batman run and don't think 'bad' or 'messy' are actually the right words to characterise it at all.

There's a tendency when a writer gets handed one of the Big Name Titles (Batman, Detective Comics, Superman, Action Comics, Tom King's currently attempting it over in Wonder Woman) to want to produce a Genre Defining, Intellectual Run on the the title. I don't entirely blame it on Jeph Loeb and Hush, but it's undoubtedly become a lot more common since Hush sold approximately one squillion copies and has never been out of print since 2003.

Writers want to make their mark on the title and so they get caught up in interrogating Bruce's psyche rather than focusing on writing entertaining stories based in Gotham characters.

(This is also why I suggest if you want a fun Scott Snyder Batman run you read Gates of Gotham or All Star Batman rather than his Batman run, because he's trying less hard to write his Great Batman Graphic Novels and more focused on telling a good story).

At the moment we have both Chip Zdarsky and Ram V focused on writing Great Defining Batman Runs, rather than what is more common to happen, which is one of the writers on Tec or Batman is trying this and the other is focused on writing entertaining Gotham stories. Ram V's is, from all accounts, probably the one of the two that is going to end up entering The Canon.

However I certainly see more people talking about Zdarsky's run, probably because it's the more accessible of the two to pick up casually for for a run.

What ALSO doesn't help is that Ram V. is currently writing a Barbatos-based run and Zdarsky is writing a Zur-En-Arrh-based run (extremely generalised), as they're two overlapping Basic Batman Plots about forces controlling Bruce.

Why I think people are currently complaining about Zdarsky's run:-

It's based around an interrogation of Zur-En-Arrh Batman. ZEA is probably one of the least liked 'Bruce has crossed the line and is trying to be All Batman, All the Time' plots around here, because it revolves around a concept essentially invented by Grant Morrison, and people on tumblr don't like Grant Morrison's Batman.

Zdarsky is writing about Joker. People on tumblr don't like Joker and think he's overused.

Zdarsky's run has leaned quite heavily into multiversal concepts so far, but what he's looking at is different depictions of Batman The Character across different media adaptions, particularly older adaptions, and what they have to say about the central truth of Batman The Character. He's picking blokey and reddit-popular sort of titles to reference, not tumblr-popular ones.

The primary character in the run is Bruce. The secondary character in the run is Tim. Every other Bat character who passes through the run is brought in to serve a purpose to the narrative, using an aspect of their personality, and if you're a fan of another character, the fact that they're appearing as a side character or an obstacle in the story can be annoying, as the story isn't focused on the thing you cherish most about your blorbo.

I think everyone is busy blaming every aspect of the plot of Gotham War they don't like on Zdarsky, despite the fact it was written by a trio: I don't see Tini Howard or Matthew Rosenberg catching nearly as much flack for Gotham War, even as aspects of the event were pretty clearly steered by them (The Selina parts of the plot were obviously Howard. The Jason parts of the plot including the conditioning look pretty clearly to be a Rosenberg requested part of the story, given he had been consistently writing most of the published Jason content for the last 3 years).

Really, I think at its base it's that Zdarsky is digging into an aspect of the Batman mythos that tumblr doesn't particularly like, and that Zdarsky's main focus in terms of characters are Bruce and Tim. It's fashionable to complain that Tim's getting love and support by a writer for a whole lot of fanon rather than canon related reasons, PLUS Zdarsky is using the wider Gotham cast sparingly and only when he specifically wants them to work within the narrative he's telling.

Plus, it's pretty clear to my eye that Zdarsky's favourite Batman eras are about 1995-2009, and that's shaping some of his choices of characterisation using long term aspects of characters. He's a Brubaker-Rucka and a Morrison-Nicieza fan, people. He likes O'Neil era events and Batfamily writing from Gotham Knights and Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive.

[beanghostprincess]

What are you most controversial/unpopular OP opinions??? Sorry if it was answered before

You want me to get canceled so bad-- If I speak-- But idk, I guess I'll say the controversial opinions I can say publicly without a bunch of people coming at me!

Zo$an is a bit... Overrated? And by overrated I mean extremely/annoyingly overrated. I like the ship and its canon dynamic but I think at least 80% of the fandom portrays them in a very mischaracterized way. Not to say that... The ship is literally everywhere and the shippers always look for every little thing to prove they're canon, even if the "proof" has literally nothing to do with them. It's not that I don't enjoy the ship (although I must admit I prefer other dynamics a lot more) I just can't stand shippers that go to extremes. It's funny because I think Zo$an's dynamic is way more interesting and romantic in canon than it will ever be in the fandom. It's a bit sad, ngl. I liked them a lot at first but it got so tiring and now I am pretty exhausted from seeing it everywhere. The people force it to be more than it is when the canon is already pretty fucking great.

Adding to the Zo$san thing. I think that relationship would only work if Luffy is there somehow but it wouldn't last a day without him in the relationship. Unless there's like, a ton of character development most of these people don't make them go through.

One Piece Film Z is my worst enemy. It's such a boring movie. The only good thing is the soundtrack and maybe the suits but God watching that was torture.

Boa hate is uhhhh weird. I mean, I get why the joke about her being in love with Luffy might be annoying, but I think most of you need to learn to understand that Oda's sense of humor is sometimes a bit too exaggerated (and not funny) and it has basically nothing to do with the actual canon dynamics between characters. Boa likes Luffy because he's one of the first men who has ever treated her right, so of course she confuses that feeling with love. And of course, yeah, it isn't canon. Whatever. Just read between the lines, maybe? And also, stop using words like "pedo" to describe her because using that term so lightly about 1) a fictional character and 2) somebody who's clearly not a pedo is fucked up. Lmao. Do you even know what that word means???

Once again complaining about Pudding hate and saying that it's stupid. I won't overanalyze because I always do it with her, but the only reason people hate her is for misogynistic reasons and because they're babying Sanji. Evil male characters are okay and hot and very traumatized but the second it's a woman she's the most evilest person ever! Because God forbid they make mistakes! Suddenly their character development isn't valid because they hurt their babygirl!

Now that we're talking about my dearest Pudding. Not tagging anybody of course, but I saw this post with so many interactions of people agreeing about Sanji considering violence as a sign of love which??? Doesn't make sense at all?? OP said it was because he couldn't tell the difference between love/abuse because of his family, but that's just... Not accurate. That could only happen if they had manipulated him into thinking abuse is a type of love, but he had healthy love growing up. Even when he was with the Vinsmokes (Sora and Reiju, I love you). And yet OP said Sanji considered Pudding's behavior flirting (wrong) and that's why he let her attack him (nope) and that it was proof of Zo$an. And okay, it's not a hugely popular theory, but a lot of people agreed with it and it bothered me a lot because it's both out of character and also using Pudding (complex female character) once again to try and prove the canon of a ship (that doesn't have anything to do with WCI either???). It just bothers me. People can perceive the story however they want but... Y'know.

OPLA isn't that good. Or good at all? I only like it because I like the cast and it's funny seeing my blorbos irl. But the script is simple and dull and just stupid most of the time. The characters are either simplified, mischaracterized, or forgotten. And tbh most of the shots are very awful and could be a lot better. The directing is also nonexistent. It's 6/10 and 3 of those points are because both the Zolu and the cast.

Apparently this is a very common theory about Nami's origins, but, uh, I don't think we need to know? What else do you need to know about her? People say she's a lost princess or something like that as if we didn't have a lost princess already (Sanji ily). Repeating the same plot would be boring and underwhelming, but also? It'd be extremely useless for the plot and it'd go against everything about Nami's story and the way Luffy reacts to it.

Luffy isn't canon aroace. In fact, the reasoning people use for him being "coded" is the same Oda uses for Zoro too and Zoro is almost never portrayed as the "idiot who doesn't know what sex is" the way Luffy often is. If you're calling Luffy canon aroace for what Oda said about him being focused on adventures, the same goes for Zoro being focused on his dream. They could be coded arospec but there's nothing confirmed and the constant discourse about it is stupid. Attacking others because of their ships just because you don't agree with them and saying it's wrong using our identity to do it is very fucked up. Especially since most of the time people complaining aren't even aroace. The only reason people do it (attacking others saying they can't ship Luffy and that it's "weird" and "wrong") is that they infantilize Luffy/Don't want him getting in between their ships (<- aroace person writing this) (also, it's very ableist since people agree on Luffy also being neurodivergent coded and treating him like a kid bc of that but this isn't about that now).

Somehow this is very common. Some fucking how. I can't believe I have to say this. I'm tired of people blaming Usopp for what happened in Water 7. Or in general hating Usopp. Actually, he's one of the best-written characters in the whole show and he's so underappreciated it's so frustrating.

Sanji's perv jokes are annoying af and we all know that, but people who hate the character and consider him a red flag for that are missing the point completely. The point being "Oda exaggerates jokes to an annoying extent and most of the time they don't even reflect the character". I understand they can make you uncomfortable (same here tbh) but reducing Sanji to only those jokes is a waste of his character. You need to take jokes less seriously.

If I see one of these "red flag OP boys" TikToks adding Law/Ace/Zoro/Sanji next to fucking Doffy I will riot. Also, stop adding Crocodile there. He's a mafioso, there's NO way he won't be a sweetheart to his lover.

Baron Omatsuri's artstyle and animation is amazing and it fits the plot and aesthetic of the movie perfectly and people saying it's ugly will forever bother me.

"Usopp is suddenly hot after timeskip!" He has always been hot what the fuck are you talking about.

People reduce Nami to her "mean"/"sarcastic" personality a lot when she's quite literally one of the most kind-hearted characters of all. That being said, morally speaking she's probably one of the worst. I could explain how that works but I don't want to do it now, the point is-- Let the girl be sweet instead of making her mean all the time. And also, let her be mean and selfish without making it her entire personality. There's something called "balance".

Film Red was kind of bad. Like, the songs are amazing (thanks, Ado) but the ending is awful and the plot is very meh. I'm only here for Uta and Shanks but the rest of the characters are just useless. I do appreciate Sanji's hair in the movie, though.

[spookberry]

Watching your work recently has been so inspiring. I had a rough few semesters of art school, and while I enjoyed the classes, I was mildly disillusioned by an insistence on what felt like "meaningful" art...

A lot can be meaningful! After being online a bit more, around artists like you who clearly love what you're doing and make art you're passionate about, it kinda made me realize that I'm free! I can make what I want, whatever it is! Art that has historically and occasionally been deemed lesser (e.g. fanart) is not actually so, and art can mean a lot even if it isn't in fancy galleries or art books.

Anyway, what I mean to say is: you're inspiring, and talented. I really love your art for what it is and what it represents to me. I love seeing what you make, and it helps bolster me to make my own art as wild as I want!

This is one of the sweetest asks I've ever gotten and it's really made my, like, year lol.

This is the reason I post fanart!! Other artists represented the same for me when I was younger and it made want to participate and join in and I'm glad I did! I've met some cool people and I've had really interesting conversations and experiences via fandom... even if I can be a bit of a lurker at times haha.

Art School's rough, I definitely have felt similarly. A big problem is that a lot of professors tend to be hyperfocused on their own field and what makes art meaningful To Them. (the amount of times I've walked out of a class grumbling cuz a LA prof only wanted to talk about white box gallery work and didn't even know we HAD an animation department...) Which isn't always bad if you gel with the right ones, but other times it can definitely put a dampener on your work. A good way to look at art sometimes I think is that what's "meaningful" about it can be the smallest stupidest reason ever. And you just gotta stand by that, even if other people think it's lame. Sometimes the meaning was in making it, or getting to share it, sometimes the meaning is drawing your favorite blorbo in a white void because it gave you an outlet and makes you happy. That's meaningful, you just gotta know how to argue for that meaning sometimes. (profs LOVE a good bullshitter)

Turning in things for a grade rather than because you enjoy it is never going to be the best format for art regardless of what kind of art you're making. I've found the more I stuck it out the more things I actually enjoyed became available to me and now I'm kinda (not fully tho, im SO glad to be graduating fyi) regretting all the classes I never got the chance to take. You just gotta take it one day at a time and remember that art school should be there as a place to practice and better both your work and your own understanding of the work you make which can feel tedious and unnecessary at times but its worth it in the end(in my experience).

In the end you're the one paying for it and if you're not getting what you want out of it, it's best to look for other avenues, I did! I'm not graduating from the college I started at and I'm honestly really thankful for that.

Anyways, sorry for rambling lol, and thank you for you kind words. I wish you the best anon, you hang in there!

[klm-zoflorr]

"remember when I said I didn't have anything interesting to add" at the end of a goddamn tag essay is funny as shit. anyway I'm mentally rotating the concept of elias inserting himself into Jon's s5 statements now. oughgh

Sometimes the spirit of the blorbos possesses me to write tag essays... These are the good days. You don't want to be near me on the bad days

Okay because this is. This is a great concept. Right??? That poor unsuspecting victim turns the corner and then. Boom. ELIAS. Maybe at first it's just descriptions. Then he starts talking, oh god, and what he's saying become longer and longer and more personal. Then it starts becoming JUST Elias. He's SO invasive. He's watching. Uhhh i think he knows we're coming martin.

Oh, fuck this. You know what i said about worse days? Thats one. I'm having a blast. Writoing be upon ye.

***

It wasn't much, at first. A familiar face in the crowd, someone out of place, blink and you miss it.

Jon doesn't think he was in the cabin. But then again, it wasn't really a statement, was it? Wasn't a piece of the terror he and his God feed upon now. But maybe he was. Ever Watching that he is.

He does remember the first time he noticed, because something struck him as odd. Something that wasn't quite... Right. Someone that shouldn't be there, did not have any purpose there.

Alexei feels his knees start to buckle as he sees his comrades stagger out of the cloud. Their melting teeth flow down their faces like tears, and their limbs begin to fold and collapse as the bones within them liquefy. Among them, there is a man standing there like a mirage, tall and smiling, untouched by any of the slaughter. But then there is a bright light swallowing all, and the loudest sound he will ever hear, and Alexei turns and starts to flee.

***

She's sitting, nailed to an incomfortable wooden chair. But her pins aren't metal, oh no, far worse. They're eyes, all sorts of colors and shapes and sizes and textures and wetness, peering at her from above and sideways and below. She wants to screw her eyes shut just to pretend that's not happening, but she finds with horror that she does not have lids anymore.

There is a strange man sitting in the other chair.

"Oh God, where am I, who are you?"

"I'm Jonah Magnus."

He's smiling, and it's all kinds of wrongs. She gets the feeling he is so, so pleased to be able to say this, although she doesn't understand why -how could she? Just a cog in the machine, and ignorant creature driven to her slaughter.

"What have you done to me, where am I, how do I make this stop?" She cries, because it hurts, being stared at, pierced by this otherworldly gaze that never ceases.

He wipes a tear from her face almost gently, almost paternally. His touch leaves pupils blossoming in its wake, a blessing from someone that does not wish her good.

"Don't cry, it won't stop your nightmare. Nothing can, because that's what your life is now."

[aria-ashryver]

Welcome to the Jungle | Choices MC Colony | Episode #3

We are starting strong once again: Anitha and Rin got a case of the plague, Evie got malaria, and hot damn do we need an actual doctor out here! (Hello, foreshadowing 👀)

In good news, however, the panther problem is no more! (For now)

The MCs have been settled at Cedar Station for a couple of seasons now: purpose-specific rooms are being built; crappy barracks are being upgraded to little, individual houses, and we are getting more artsy with our crafting!

Luca *gasping softly*: cauliflowers, of course! Omg I'm a genius.

Anitha has taken non-cauliflower approaches to boosting settlement morale! Namely;

planting yellow, sunshiney flowers outside the rec room

singing songs to capybaras in the hopes they will come live with us (which... worked?! Go Anitha!! 💛)

Our MCs have collectively decided capybaras are the perfect symbol of hard work, perseverance, and being extremely friend-shaped, so they are now our ✨ venerated animal ✨ (Sprites now get a mood boost when they spend time near a capybara lol)

!!A wild Oliver appears!!

Good news: We have found a doctor! Bad news: Said doctor has been wandering alone in the jungle for weeks on end and is clearly Going Through Some Stuff

Dorian tried to calm Oliver down and talk him through The Horrors TM (and just managed to make things worse 😆)

(Dorian "Silvertongue" more like Dorian "Can I Offer You a Nice Berry In This Trying Time- ow why are you hitting me ow")

Anitha's got this, don't worry 🌻

Here's Oliver, all cleaned up with fresh haircut and change of clothes, and feeling much calmer!

Welcome to the colony, Oliver! ✨✨✨ Great to have you aboard

Having a real doctor in the group means we can safely go on caravan journeys! Today, half of the MCs split off to:

Attend peace talks with a hostile faction

Fulfill a trade agreement with a nearby settlement

Loot an ancient ruin to get Dorian a cool new sword

Get... uh, wait- get mugged by a random imp raider who wanted to steal Oliver's extremely cool t-shirt?

um. Dorian's new sword got a test run and Oliver kept his shirt.

We did unfortunately run out of food on the way home, though, so our MCs have arrived back hungry, tired, and desperately in need of something fun to do.

Things were tense, folks. Rin might have snapped at Evie a little bit 😬

aaahhhh the blorbos are brawling aaahhh this is our first social fight

Things calmed down pretty quick when Evie went for the suckerpunch and cracked Rin's jaw. Rin got lots of quick jabs in too, so Evie has a ton of bruises to her torso, but I think since Evie went beast mode on this one, she wins 😆

Fortunately, Oliver knows just how to help 💗

We are all friends again in time for the Skylantern Festival though!! Awww look at them go 🌈✨ (Marianna is helping Evie with hers, that's so sweet 🥺)

Anitha: we require more morale Anitha: *brainstorming so hard* Anitha: I've got it. TWO Capybaras!!!

So, on top of our OG Labrador, Ricky, we now have Sunny and Sugar-Plum, our resident Guinea Bigs. We have also recently acquired an (actual) guinea pig and a cat!

I'm letting the smaller pets pick their owners on a "first nuzzled, first served" basis, so congrats to Evie and Oliver, who now have their very own pets!

@cadybear420 - what does Evie name the guinea pig?

@dr-colossal-pita what does Oliver name the cat?

(If it makes a difference, the guinea pig is male, the cat is female, both are 3 years old)

Raids are getting tougher! This one was weird, because some visiting traders rushed to our defense with... with their pet bull? Guys, we have it. Its... its fine, you don't need to-- okay, sure. Fine. Send in the bull. Also misfire your bow and arrow and shoot Dorian in the leg, that's great too.

It was a tough scrape, this one! A bunch of tough adventurers, pushed to their limits, trying to survive in this harsh, unforgiving jungle, came to steal our supplies. A few of their people died, some of ours were injured, and we hauled the enemy survivors inside to tend to their injuries (because what is the jungle without a little humanity, right?)

In what is perhaps the most metal move I have ever seen, here is Oliver talking Marianna through what to do when someone* has been stabbed in the kidney and is bleeding out

*"someone" in this instance is Oliver 🤘

OH MY GOD I JUST NOTICED MARIANNA USED THE REALLY GOOD MEDICINE I WAS SAVING THAT klsjgksfjglkdf dammit 😂 thats fine, I'd rather Oliver be okay, but omg that stuff is expensive and I only had 1 ahh 😭😭😭

Curiously... the enemy adventurers are rather taken by our empathy. These are good people, they say. This is a small settlement, but it looks homely. These people are tough, but fair. Hmmm...

"Do you really think we can trust them? We attacked their home." "We didn't have a choice! But these people seem... honest? They could have left us to die, but they didn't. Maybe... this could be a home for us, too." "Daenarya, that's madness. You can't just try to steal from someone, only to turn around and ask if you can join them!" "...Its worth a shot, right?"

(uhh I forgot to take a "New recruit: Daenarya" screenshot, just pretend I did lol)

Welcome aboard to our newest pair of adventurers, Brienne and Daenarya!! 💖💖 (Brienne's lil horns are everything to me hehe)

And just in time, too -- our colony have received a tip-off about a lone, freelance detective in need of rescue not far from our base -- @stars-are-within-me 's Carina Rose! Maybe Brienne and Daenarya can help us pull off a daring rescue in the next episode 😎

as ever, thank you to @choicesmc @cadybear420 @rosesnink @storyofmychoices @dr-colossal-pita and @lover-also-fighter-also for letting me steal your darlings!

[kdramaxoxo]

hihi!! i wanna ask for a list of dramas with a lead whos cold, mysterious, haunted by a troubled past, secretive, prolly has a vocabulary of like 10 words. but is super soft on the inside, like they push ppl away cus theyre afraid of hurting them or being abandoned or smthn like that. ik this is hyper specific so sryyy if its hard to answer, but all my fave characters fit this bill so wanted to kno if u have any kdrama that can give me this high (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ thxxx!! ♡

p.s. it doesnt have to b exxxactly this but if it fits a few of the categories, ill be happi! ♡♡

We LOVE mysterious haunted trauma babies over here so thank you for this ask. (also this might be one of my favorite lists ever??)

K-Dramas leads with cold personalities/mysterious past, secretive trauma pups...morally grey a plus

The Smile has left your eyes - Kim Moo-Young Aside from this k-drama being a masterpiece that’ll leave you a pile of tears, Seo in Guk as Kim Moo-Young is the perfect example of a morally grey character you will fall in love with. He’s involved in a murder plot line, uses women to get what he wants and is clearly hiding something. You’ll try to resist being interested in him sure, but you’ll fail.

Beyond Evil - both leads This is a passionate unrequited romance crime drama about two detectives that are paired up to solve a crime in a small town. Everyone is really messed up and that's what makes this drama super good! Scary, haunted and super well written.

Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938 - Lee Rang Lee Rang is one of my favorite trauma pup blorbo from my shows! This drama is the second season of the fantasy drama Tale of the Nine Tailed. I recommend you watch both but season two was my favorite because it focused on Lee Rang. You will LOVE HIM! MUST PROTEC.

Alice The Final Weapon - Gyeo Wool Finally a GIRL with a traumatic past and the boy who loves her!! Actually everyone in this drama is messed up and dealing with horrific things. It's a very short and creative little drama and despite the gore, I really fell for the mains! They are blorbo from my shows!

See You In My 19th Life (both leads) This drama featuring a woman who can remember her past lives was one of my favorites this year! Both leads are tackling the trauma of the FL's death and there is a lot of healing that has to happen. Shin Hye Sun is a goddess!

The Eighth Sense - Jae Won A queer kdrama about two leads that meet surfing and fall in love. This drama is my favorite "bl" k-drama ever and the lead definitely has a traumatic past he's in therapy for. I highly recommend this one!

Flower of Evil - Hyun Soo: A psychological thriller centered around a jewelry maker who is running from his past, and his cop wife (power couple alert!)  who doesn’t know his original identity. The chemistry of the couple is amazing and all of the characters are nuanced and interesting. I was on the edge of my seat, AND sobbing! Also, I finally understand Lee Jun Ki stans, he was SO GOOD in this! A total trauma pup you won't believe it.

Doom at Your Service: Doom A girl is diagnosed with cancer and a morally grey god grants her wish to live 100 more days the way she wants to live. While I didn't LOVE this drama, the romance is amazing - that KISS! Doom is the perfect damaged god with a chip on his shoulder.

Hello Monster - Lee Hyun and His Brother Jung Sun-Ho Featuring two brothers who have a murderous backstory, both are morally grey. Sure one is definitely “worse” than the other when it comes to being a murder baby but let’s face it - they both have their problems (sorry, didn’t want to post any spoilers so that’s all I can say about that!)

The Crowned Clown: Ha-seon The King The contrast between the good guy and the bad guy in this historical drama are so interesting to watch because one brilliant actor (Yeo Jin Goo) plays the same character. The king is insane and a murderer. He’s terrible in every way with literally no way to be redeemed but you’ll still feel for him…just watch.

My Liberation Notes - Mr. Gu This slice of life takes place mostly in a small town where siblings who really don't want to be there, live. Mr. Gu is renting one of the buildings and he's extremely burdened and and keeps to himself. I personally didn't ship him with the lead but he's definitely the type you're asking for!

Scarlet Heart Ryeo: Wang Soo Scarlet heart will destroy you, but you’ll also find yourself deeply empathetic to (and totally in love with) the most toxic of princes: Wang Soo. Cast out by his relatives, and treated like an animal he’s deeply wounded and despite knowing in your heart that he’s done terrible things, you’ll find yourself making excuses for him and imagining him as your boyfriend (wait…can you ignore that last sentence?)

Summer Strike - Both leads This slice of life has a quiet and thoughtful male lead who is traumatized by the murder of his sibling. I was a little disappointed in the ending but overall the show's mains were so soft and lovely.

Just Between Lovers - Both leads but. Kang Doo! I'm sure you knew I'd put this on the list but kang doo is my favorite trauma baby of all time. Slice of Life romance between poor pups just trying to live! The OTP is one of my favorite couples EVER and even as the years go on, very few couples have matched their love in my opinion. There’s a lot of comfort/healing themes with for me is just *chef’s kiss.* Lee Junho became my bias wrecker because of that drama.

Psycho But It’s Okay - Everyone A gorgeous k-drama using fairytale narrations as a backdrop, features two brothers who lost their mother, and a beautiful & famous author who grew up in a traumatic and abusive household. Everyone is very closed off and holding onto intense pain, but the three come together to help one another move on and find happiness. Gorgeous angsty and melodramatic romance.

Thirty But Seventeen - Woo Jin Precious puppies with past trauma! The main has basically stopped living his life because of his past. Don’t be turned off by the shows description as it turned out to be one of the best surprises of 2018 for me. The leads are lovely and everyone relies and supports one another - it’s so sweet.

Come and Hug Me - Do Jin This thriller is not for the faint of heart but the main theme is healing. Two friends are torn apart when the boy’s dad kills the girls entire family. Later in life, they find one another and walk on the path to healing while still being tormented by their past. It also focuses on the trauma and manipulation the killer has on the whole family, making the show beautiful, terrifying and heartbreaking at the same time. 

Goblin: Grim Reaper Most of you have watched this drama but I’ll try hard not to spoil it. The Grim Reaper is such a hilarious character in the current time line but in order to be a Grim Reaper, you have to have done something “bad” to become one. His pain is deep and cutting and you’ll want to protect him.

It’s Okay that’s love: Jang Jae-yeol This is one of those cold male leads that you’ll just end up liking even though he’s kinda the worst in that “Pickup Artist” type of way? I had this show listed in my top 10 but then I recently watched it again and realized I’ve made progress in my “don’t like jerks who display jerk behavior” because he’s kinda an ass. You’ll soften for him when the plot moves along for sure, but he’s aggressive and says really sexist things sometimes (as does most of the male characters honestly - i really need to remove this from my top 10)…

Enjoy!

[armoredsuperheavy]

MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE: An Insufferably Queer Film Review

I rewatched MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE (1987) for the first time since it came out last night and WOW I have some thots about this thing. We enjoyed roasting the living shit out of it but there's a few gold nuggets in there despite the brutal budget cuts that impacted the plot and what not.

Contains plenty of spoilers.

God bless Wardrobe

OK so … the film doesn't bother to set up any real motivations for the characters, and He-Man (an incredible looking Dolph Lundgren rrrowrrrr) has almost no dialogue which is such a fucking waste. But this complete lack of narrative framework means we can apply OUR OWN explanations to events.

From the very beginning Skeletor has this obsession with He-Man, which will simmer and then culminate in a final showdown. But before we get to that hot mess, we have to wade through the middle of the film.

He gets as much screen time as He-Man.

Meet the utterly repulsive dwarf scientist Gwildor played by Billy Barty, a rinse-and-repeat of his performance as an utterly repulsive magic troll in Legend (1986). This dwarf is the film's Jar Jar. His face is like a deep dish pizza after an acid attack. His real mouth is visible behind the immobile thick prosthetics and it makes for some truly disturbing close-up dialogue shots. Please, pan away from Pizza the Hutt and give us another shot of Lundgren's pecs please I am begging you, DP

We find ourselves in Gwildor's hobbit hole, and he's a magical inventor. So he has this cylindrical object, it's not clear whether it's a weapon or a teleporter but I'm calling it the Butt-Reamer 9000. Inexplicably, there are two of these things and Skeletor has the other one, and wants to collect both of them. So Skeletor has an excuse to go hunting He-Man as he's hunting his missing McGuffin, er I mean sex toy.

Features rotating ticklers, a big improvement over the Butt Reamer 8000.

The thing about the Butt-Reamer 9000 is its magical power to make even this promising setup devolve into a grind as it whisks the Eternians into the magical, enchanting world of a 1987 New Jersey parking lot. WHO WROTE THIS?

The entire middle of the movie is pretty much hot garbage and involves police detectives, arson, vandalism, high school prom, and other dumb bullshit. Aside from the distractingly naked He-Man, the good guys are an utter bore and include some Eternians, some regular Earth humans and their quotidian concerns which really brings down the fun of the movie. (No, baby Courtney Cox, I don't care about your imminent breakup with your mediocre boyfriend!)

The film owes a second mortgage to Star Wars and steals a lot of ideas from it, from bad guys in shiny black stormtrooper helmets, to heroes shooting blue lasers, baddies shooting red.

Let's turn from this depressing state of affairs and focus back on our cherished villain blorbos.

(L-R: Karg, Evil-Lyn our goddess, and Blade.)

Evil-Lyn is beautiful, evil, a cold bitch queen. Gurl you can do so much better than sticking with this loser Skeletor.

Dump! Him! He's gay anyway!

Skeletor is a shit lazy boss of Greyskull and makes Evil-Lyn run the goddamn place in general. He literally shoots the messenger at one point. Great for morale, there, Skel buddy.

Look closer. Fierce!

There's a number of budget rate henchmen on the job, including Karg, who used a whole can of aqua net this morning and is running around in a white fur capelet with a massive bouffant. He is just doing his best okay, really it's hard to look fabulous around these other bitches.

Blade definitely deserved more screen time

Also, Blade, who had a slutty costume of silvery scale maille or something, and was a bit like a sci-fi bondage Riff Raff / space Judas Priest. Best side character costume.

So, there we have it, the queer coded villain roster of the film.

This homemade collage is for sure taped inside Skeletor's locker at school

Note the gigantic brown eye.

Finally, thank Satan, we return to Castle Greyskull, though it's more like beige-and-brown-skull. But aside from the questionable use of faux marble finishes, this is a quality villain lair with hard points installed directly in the floor of the living room, convenient death pits, and an excellent throne setup that I'm pretty sure they recycled for The Fifth Element.

He-Man is captured alive and brought before Skeletor. Blade does the honors with a 15 foot glowing red bullwhip to He-Man's naked and oiled back, much to the delight of dyed-in-the-wool sadist Evil-Lyn.

Movie is getting good now. Was the side quest to Jersey really necessary?

Skeletor, though, watches this action from the throne and has a lot of interesting responses. We had to conclude that Skeletor is a big old bottom but won't admit it. As a dom he is utterly ineffective. He's trying to make He-man kneel and all this shit but He-Man is not submissive at all. Skeletor is … lol. He really just wants to smell He-Man's dick.

The depths (heh) of his bottom nature will become apparent shortly. But first, a costume change.

Skeletor's glow up --- i'm every woman.

Honey we know you're just trying to impress He-man.

Werk tho.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Hole

The gigantic sky-sphincter directly behind the throne has slid open wide… "Begin! The Goatse Ritual! Join me, He-Man, as I become LORD OF THE GAPE" But He-Man's phallic symbol shines bright in defiance. In the end, Skeletor is vanquished symbolically by his own nature and instead of his hole swallowing He-Man, a gaping hole swallows Skeletor instead.

They don't really explain what happened to Evil-Lyn after He-Man's inevitable victory in final man to man combat but she was too smart to get caught sleeping in there and must have survived. What a hot evil competent BABE. After the events of the film end, I vote that Evil-Lyn seduces Teela (the good guy solder lady) and has a hot toxic lesbian affair with her.

Evil-Lyn serves cunt in hell 4 evar

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

Want some more?

Nice fanart

Another breakdown on Buzzfeed if you enjoyed mine this is even more gay headcanon

The movie is free on Tubi if you want to subject yourself to it.

ArmoredSuperHeavy, 19 Aug 2023

[barrenclan]

IM GOING TO GET SO TITLED AT THE TOWERS /ref

yep!! no change on cootstorm being a piece of shit!! imaging a teen telling u he doesn’t want to date a baby and u decide to stop teaching him. i hope she dies so i can edit her with the grimace shake

the fact that they can see the distant lush prairies but they choose to stay because of their long gone kin sucks???? like not in a bad writing way, but in a i feel bad for these kitties way :(( its not ur fault what happened :(( u shouldn’t live in pain just for the mistakes of a dead cat :((

IS MEADOWKIT GON BE OK?? :((( IM SO HAPPY CORMORANTPAW VISITED BC OF HIS PARENTAL TRAUMA AND STUFF BC NOW HE GETS TO SEE KITS THAT R GONNA BE TREATED LIKE KITS (HOPEFULLY, IF COOTSTORM BACKS UP) BUT… BABEY PLS BE OK.. I KNOW UR NOT GONNA KILL KITS BUT I CAN STILL BE CONCERNED ABOUT THE PARADITE

i want to punch beeface in the face. daffodilpaw has been a blorbo i’ve related to since day once u don’T SAY THAT TO THE ME FR!!!!!! BEEFACE IS GUILT TRIPPING HER ABOUT THE BABIES IM GOING TO BITE HER AND SHAKE HER AROUND AND PUT HER IN A BLENDER!!!!!!!!! AND THE FACT THAT SHE RAISES HER PAW AND DAFFODILPAW IMMEDIATELY COVERS HER FACE SCARES ME BECAUSE THAT IMPLIES THAT SHE IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT BEEFACE WAS GONNA HIT HER WITH IMPLIES THAT THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME AND AGAAGAHAHHAGRRHEAHVAGRJRGRJRJRKSSNNR

slugpelt is best mom omg. she’s redeemed so much she cares about her kids im gonna sob fkejdkd. go kick beeface’s ass!!!!! she cares about her kiddos (daff specifically rn) so muccch. big mama bear ready to throw hands but willing to soften for daffy…

redpelt being able to stand up and diffuse the situation (before slugpelt threw hands) was so cool to see!! she’s trying she’s getting better she wants to help she wants to be a good deputy GRRRR

i want to fistfight plumstripe too actually. the fact that she looked at beeface guilttripping daffodilpaw before narrowly being unable to physically harm her with a smack(?) and then turned to asphodelpaw (the sister of the victim of the situation) and instead of being supportive she just?? used it as a way to better herself?? this is not the time daffodilpaw could have been HURT PHYSICALLY. AND POTENTIALLY COULD HAVE BEEN FOR AWHILE!!! i’m going to put plumstripe in the blender too i’m having plum and bee smoothies

sorry this is a little more chaotic (and violent) than usual. this is a good issue!!!!!! family hug :3

Just your daily confirmation that Cootstorm still sucks! More at 10.

Unfortunately the whole comic is about paying for the mistakes of your ancestors in an eternal cycle of punishment and misery. :( Not fun.

YEAH Beeface is. Not great in this issue. The fact that Daffodilpaw covers her face as Beeface raises her paw... yes, I do think Beeface is the type of person to use corporal punishment from time to time. The kind of "a good smack around the head will get you thinking straight" person. Hopefully Slugpelt being a good mom took away some of that sting, though, I liked writing her in this issue a lot.

Plumstripe's discipline of choice revolves a lot more around subtle emotional manipulation, I don't think she'd ever get her paw dirty with anything more than a shove. But she certainly doesn't make Asphodelpaw feel good about herself much.

NEVER apologize for sharing feelings in your asks. I love them!!

[kingwuko]

I saw a Wu post you reblogged and it mentioned that on supplemental content it's revealed that Wu was in republic city for a degree and me being me couldn't shake the idea of that degree being in musical theater. Am I projecting my own wants amd desires on my favorite blorbo? Yes a little bit, but also look at him. Come on. So this idea is in the back of my mind for the past few days and then just now I'm listening to a song from that fan project of atla as a musical (I'm honestly not sure how many more songs they've made) and I'm like. Heh, what if Wu wrote that musical. Then i go no. No this is just as a silly thing, I'm not serious about it... but then I imagine him actually singing this, and singing it well, while playing it at a piano and.

Gods DAMN I want it so bad. I mean can you imagine him asking former fire lord zuko himself about what his sister was like so he can WRITE about it?

Insane.

Idk, I feel like it has the potential of being the anti Ember Island play, something genuinely good with all its sources thoroughly checked and vetted and every living person featured in the story consulted and given explicit permission to use their likeness.

I also just generally like the idea of Wu being a composer? I recall the joke about his singing being that its awful and I wish that weren't true but if it is then I think he should be a good composer at least. Just has a terrible singing voice lol.

Anyway that's all, let me know if I'm sending too many of these btw I just enjoy your responses a lot!

AAAAAH Wu being in a music theater program in RCU is actually a great idea. Being a composer or writer totally tracks for me. His lil rhymes he came up with while singing on the spot were actually delightful and clever!!! I love his silly badgermole songs and I don't think his singing voice is too shabby either!

Oh my god to that song though what a fun fan project. Wu is well versed in history (citation ruins of the empire) so yeah! He could make the anti-ember island musical retelling of Aangs adventures why not!

You are not sending me too many asks. I feel like I'm annoying begging people to interact with me lol but seriously please send me all your Wuko thoughts I love talking about these guys!!!

(for anyone wondering the supplemental content referenced is from the Avatar Legends TTRPG Republic City book idk if you guys have noticed but I'm kind of obsessed with Avatar Legends lol)

[thesecondbatgirl]

This is not as positive as you think it is

It’s still Rosh Hashanah, and I’m going to post part of those 17 essays I swore I would never write. Starting off the year as I mean to go on? Or something. I originally had this as the first thing on my list of essays that I would never write but would absolutely get me kicked out of Star Wars fandom but I am tired and cranky and I am going to explain why tagging fics where the Jedi Order reform and start allowing attachment as *Jedi Positive* piss me off so much. 

First, let me make this clear. If you hate the Jedi Order and want to write those, go ahead. If you have issues with the Jedi and want to write those fics, go ahead. Nobody is stopping you. What I’m asking instead is to stop tagging them Pro-Jedi or Jedi positive. Use Jedi critical! Or not Jedi friendly! Please use those tags instead! Yes even if you think its Pro-Jedi! If you are saying that the Order needs to reform to be *good* then it is not Jedi friendly!

I mean, look, if you are writing those things then I have issues with the way you’re interrogating the text and will think that you’re *wrong* and also that you’re using some super problematic (and from my point of view, anti-semitic) tropes but if my 21+ years in fandom have taught me anything its that you are never going to get anyone to agree on anything, but tagging will at least allow us to have our own spaces? Like, you wouldn’t have gone into a [pairing of your choice] positive archive and post a fic where [pairing] break up because the one who isn’t your blorbo is abusive so your blorbo runs to *YOUR* OTP, because that wouldn’t fit the theme of the archive! So if your fic is saying that the old rules for the prequel Jedi are bad and need to be changed to be good, don’t put it with Jedi positive content! 

So first. Attachment. Other people have talked about it better than I have, but have some links about what attachment means in the GFFA and no it really does not mean love.

(Listen I am not going to bother to rewrite the meta when Lumi has already done the work for me)

https://gffa.tumblr.com/post/695309005156925440/this-is-every-instance-where-the-jedi-talk-about/amp

https://gffa.tumblr.com/post/680367423839485952/this-is-every-time-i-have-ever-seen-george-lucas

https://gffa.tumblr.com/post/685958601260646400/hi-totally-okay-this-ask-was-very-obviously-sent

https://gffa.tumblr.com/post/685727448042733568

https://gffa.tumblr.com/post/682990707642892288/i-never-understand-what-people-mean-when-they-say

…. Honestly just have the entire attachment tag ok:

https://gffa.tumblr.com/tagged/attachment

So. Having done your reading, for the purposes of the GFFA, attachment is greed/possession and *very very bad* for psychic space monks. It is not a thing that the Jedi can just suddenly *allow*. Letting Jedi start allowing attachments, which is the big thing I start seeing whenever people start *reforming* the Jedi is, to me, a Jew who lives in the US South, the equivalent of Jews for Jesus.

Whoa, TSB, you say. You’re going too far.

Not really. Let’s go with a central belief of Judaism. The messiah has not come, Jesus is not the messiah. For the Jedi, attachment is not allowed is one of the central core beliefs. So saying that the way the Jedi need to reform by changing one of their core beliefs hits me like the person who told me “oh honey, we don’t care how you worship, as long as you accept Christ” did. (Right after I was introduced as being Jewish!) If you’re changing the *core* of who the Jedi are, you’re making them no longer Jedi. It’s not just changing one thing, it’s changing *everything.* 

And, while the Jedi are much more Buddhist then they are Jewish, they still hit me very much in my Jewish feels. Gee, I wonder *why* I could possibly resonate with a minority religious group who were hunted down and murdered and who get accused of a bunch of anti-semitic tropes including baby stealing and secretly running the government???? There are no parallels, clearly.

So look. Every single time I get hit with a fic that’s tagged Pro-Jedi and then its “we changed our rules about attachment and that stopped us from being murdered” what I hear is “the Jews accepted Jesus so we avoided pogroms/The Holocaust.” Or, as another friend pointed out "the Sikhs cut their hair, converted, and so the Mughal Empire let them live.”

Obviously I don’t speak for every Jew, and I certainly don’t speak for any Sikhs, so not everyone is going to agree with my take. But there are people that relate to Jedi and there is a reason why people are uncomfortable with Jedi reform and allowing attachment. 

But if you’re going to write fic about the Prequel Jedi and have them reform, before you tag it pro-Jedi or Jedi-Positive, please consider if “well they have to change who they are to be good” is as positive as you think it is. Tags help people curate their fannish experience. I very much follow the philosophies of YKINMKATO and don’t like, don’t read. The backbutton is my friend! But when I think I’m getting positive fic and then it isn’t? That sucks. Please tag accurately.

…. And well, since I’ve broken my rule about not writing these essays I guess look forward to my future essays of “No the Jedi are not Catholic” and “Actually they don’t have any political power” and “please stop judging the Jedi Order by some middle grade books” and finally “Galidraan was not the Jedi’s fault oh my god Jango shot first” Shana tova, everyone. Let’s try to do better this year.

[docholligay]

Doc how do you feel about a Harry Potter-inspired YA book that really...wait! Where are you going?

I think the real bullshit tragedy of Harry Potter is: I truly and actually can really, really love magic shit. Magic, and the limits of it, and learning how to master it, these are all things that I can genuinely love. Part of the reason that I am so angry about my own personal True Blood, Shadow and Bone*, is that I LOVE the magic system as she is set up, I love the IDEA behind it, I love that the underpinnings of how they have set it against the Not!Europe at the edge of Not!WW1 is DRIPPING WITH POSSIBILITY.

But so much of this magical school/magic user/fantasy world shit is caught up in God's Specialist Boy Chosen One narratives, which are not interesting to me, an old woman who sees the world won and lost on the back of groups and teamwork. I am no longer fantasizing about being the Chosen One, I am fantasizing about a group of talented people who can communicate and compromise JUST well enough to keep the world going, because that is a fucking adult fantasy world, let me tell you.

It's that and it's Thing One and Thing Two falling in love and that's the central piece and there is no amount of QUILTBAG or racial or cultural identities you could put on Thing One and Thing Two that would make that compelling for me. Have you noticed in my writing there's very few meet-cute, how they got together stuff? It's not just that interesting to me. I like love! Romantic and platonic both! But what matters to me are what those relationships mean to us, and what they make us do, and how they move us in tension with our other ideals. I would much rather open with Fareeha Amari, married, somehow, though she has a clear stick up her sculpted ass, and over time, we see what it is Angela sees in her, what she saw in her when they DID meet, what there IS under all of it, but all of that is SO much more fun when I already know that she has brought the same level of intensity and devotion that she does for everything from military maneuvers to a trip to the grocery store.

But I LOVE magic, especially in less-magic contexts. So for example, I really, for a time, loved the Dresden Files before it really sharply fell off even as pulp. I would ADORE a grown up magical girl story that was really an urban fantasy type. I want Minako to be 23 and trying to make rent. Part of why Shadow and Bone (GOD I AM SO FUCKING MAD ABOUT THIS I BLAME YOU JEWLET) got to me is I loved that the magic users aren't an accepted part of life, that what they do is odd and awed. I have inserted my blorbos into it, of course I have. But yes, i love when the magic is grounded in the BOREDOM of a 'real' world instead of Lorde Filip DuKazmeri of the Throne of Blood and Tears riding in from Happenstance-upon-Milquetoast on his dragon with a Slintergast** at his hip.

ANYWAY, all this to say that when Harry fucking goddamn potter came around, so much magic that is based in 'reality' became patterned after that, and I'm just, so tired of reading it, and I'm so tired of the geegaws and easy morality because fantasy wants rto either be straight Up YA or teehee adult fiction that's mostly a cover for being YA gaymance, and so fantasy and I essentially broke up in like....2009? I want to say? Maybe 2010? Sometime around there, and I rarely drive past its house to see what's going on anymore, the well is fully poisoned now.

*the really bad Netflix television show that is also not good and I recommend to no one. I will not read the books, i have suffered enough.

**sword but like, real cool looking.