#perhaps its because they dont know how to deal with their feelings

[animentality]

full random, pre-tadpoled durge gets sick (idk if that's even possible but let's play with our toys a little) after a night together. What would gortash, our favourite evil petty selfish but madly in love lordling, do?

you want me to say something really cute about gortash serving them breakfast in bed, but i know for a fact that if he had something he needed done the next morning, he'd absolutely kick their sick ass out of bed and make them do it, illness or not.

or he'd take advantage of their physical weakness, and get some free blowies out of it because he knows they're delirious and fever stricken and he's an opportunistic pervert at heart.

yeah.

[plan-3-tmars]

obviously vote however you want and I respect kazui guilty voter's opinions but if I see one more person say that kazui used hinako i will riot

[thewhizzyhead]

you know when you get a friend that was even more "tomboyish" than you were in your teens and then as the both of you grow up and enter college, you see them explore expressing themselves more femininely and absolutely fall in love with it and with the concept of womanhood - while you on the other hand become all the more estranged with "being a woman" because good God you really don't fucking get it and that seeing your once-tomboyish friend find joy and an emotional connection to womanhood makes you really realize that you have no such connection whatsoever, hence making you feel left behind in actually "becoming a woman"? Anyways what I'm trying to say here is I'm definitely not fucking cis-

[yongseungkim]

.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

uh oh! worlds stupidest little guy used the wrong lotion and now everything smells like my childhood bathroom and the year is 2016 and its february which means its almost valentines day which is perhaps the most accursed date on the calendar and the year is 2016 and your least favorite little guy is in full blown survival panic mode!

[mesetacadre]

hi, i hope you dont mind me asking this question! i often come across lists of reading recommendations for communists, and they are usually focused entirely on communist theory. which is important and im already on that, but i wonder if you also have recs for learning about history? especially the history of the soviet union, but also other past and present socialist states. i sometimes find myself reading theory and understanding the concepts in a vacuum, but with very little understanding of the historical context they were written in, if that makes any sense. and id like to get a basic grasp of the history of various socialist projects that isnt just the typical western "the ussr was evil!!!!" thing

Hi, historical context is indeed very important for works of theory, especially if it's more than a hundred years old. Lenin's What is to be Done, for example, is very conditioned by its historical context of Russia still being predominantly feudal, with only a timid appearance of the proletariat in St. Petersburg and Moscow, and therefore the very first trade unions, which he talks about. The understanding of these texts is amplified, and quite often enabled by knowing at least the basic historical context. Below I'll list the historical works I've read (and others) with some commentary, but I encourage anyone who has something to add to do so, since I am as of only recently getting more into historiography.

Anything by Anna Louise Strong (I've read The Soviets Expected it (1941) and In North Korea (1941), there's also The New Lithuania (1941), The Stalin Era (1956) and When Serfs Stood Up in Tibet (1959) for example). Her works, which I'd consider primary sources since they are written from her own experience witnessing events and talking to a lot of people, are extremely useful if you wish to form an idea about how some aspects of socialist states worked. The limitation of her works also resides in this specificity and closeness, these are not works that present a broad view of long processes, but a slice of the present with the sufficient historical context. They are still very, very good.

The Open Veins of Latin America (Spanish versrion), by Eduardo Galeno (1971). This one is focused on the history of imperialism in Latin America, how it evolved from the moment the first Spanish foot touched ground to the time it was written in (It talks about Allende before he was assassinated but after achieving power, for example). Perhaps it's not exactly what you're looking for, but it contains very important general context for any social movement that has happened since 1492 to 1971

The Triumph of Evil, by Austin Murphy (2002). I have mixed feelings about this book. While it insists on this weird narrative of absolute evil, which IMO takes away a lot of value from the overall points made, it is an astonishingly in-depth analysis of the economic performance and general merit of socialist systems against their capitalist counterparts. Most of the book is dedicated to comparing the GDR to the FRG, and both the economic and social data it exposes was very eye-opening to me when I read it about 2 years ago. If you can wade through the moralism (especially the beginning of the introduction), it's a gem. I've posted pictures of its very detailed index under the cut :)

Blackshirts and Reds, Michael Parenti (1997). Despite the very real criticisms levied against this book, like its mischaracterization of China, it is still a landmark work. Synthetically, it exposes the relationship between fascism, capitalism and communism.

Red Star Over the Third World, Vijay Prashad (2019); The Russian Revolution: A View from the Third World, Walter Rodney (2018). I'm lumping these two together (full disclosure, as of writing I'm about four fifths of the way through RSOtTW) because they deal with the same topic, Prashad being influenced by Rodney as well. Like both titles imply, they deal with the effects the October revolution had on the exploited peoples of the world, which is a perspective that's often lost. Through this, they (at least Prashad) also talk about the early USSR and how it functioned. For example, up until reading Red Star, I hadn't even heard of the 1920 Congress of The Toilers of the East in Baku, or the Congress of the Women of the East.

From here on I'll link works that I haven't (yet) read, but I have seen enough trusted people talk about them to include them

How to Cast a God into Hell: The Khrushchev Report, by Domenico Losurdo (2008). This one talks about how the period of Stalin was twisted and exaggerated through destalinization.

Devils in Amber, by Philips Bonoski (1992). This is about the Baltics and their historical trajectory from before WW1 to the destruction of the USSR (I'm not very sure on those two limits, perhaps they fluctuate a bit, but it definitely covers from WW1 to the 60s)

Socialism Betrayed, by Roger Keeran and Thomas Kenny (2004). This one deals with the process leading up to and the destruction of the USSR itself.

The Jakarta Method, Vincent Bevins (2020). This is about the methods the US used in the second half of the 20th century to stamp out, prevent, or otherwise sabotage communist movements and other democratic anti-imperialist movements.

I know some of these aren't specifically about socialist states, which is what you asked, but the history of its opposition is just as important to understand because it always exists as a condition to these countries' development and policies chosen.

[moonsaver]

Warning: yan!jiaoqiu x reader, hints/implications of cannibalism and drugs.

Note: its 1.3k words, which is surprising considering i dont usually write that much. Anyways i tried to incorporate a different kind of horror feeling into this work. Hope you guys like it.

-

Jiaoqiu lives up to his name. Medicinal chef, although one part is hidden, and he willfully lives up to the other half. But both seem to work in cognition when he meets you.

There you are – where he always hopes you'll be. A small twitch of his ear, the flurry of his tail. His eyes creak open ever so slightly to behold your silhouette in the golden frame of his irises. 

There you are – where you always will be, he hopes. Or rather, he wills.

Jiaoqiu has taken a rather different approach when it comes to medicines, and food.

The chilli sizzles in the oil, loud and crackling in short bursts through the growing warm air surrounding his workspace, his tender hands working swiftly through the assortment of spices. But really, he wouldn't need much, especially considering the chillis he's going to be using. Although, he changes his mind, going back over to dutifully sprinkle in a few spices anyway. At least, he does this for you.

Quiet, ever so silent. Curt responses. Flitting eyes. You're a curious little thing. Well, it doesn't matter how brooding or moody you may be. To him, you're interesting. To any sly fox, interesting means plaything. He's learned how to really risk the delicate balance of spice and flavour. And he's also sure how to deal with bitterness.

Strangely enough - you seem to like it. The bitterness slowly but surely pierces through the food, seeping into your mouth like poison. He's sure to take inspiration, but for now, he watches with a closed eye smile. A smile you're always too familiar with, ever since he's started making things special for you.

His chin placed delicately on the palm of his hand, elbow slightly straining the smooth wood underneath, as his hand gently fans away the ghat of the chili, still wafting in the air, making a few people cough in the distance. “Do you like it?” He asks, often. “I've added just what you might like”, “you'll keep coming back”, and, “my, aren't I seeing you too often?”

...

You don't know what's gotten into you. Dazed, but also hypervigilant at the same time. You think you're losing your mind – the reality you were so grounded in, losing your footing, the dissonance of your mind pushing you far into the cacophony of distressed thoughts, until his calm voice snaps you of it.

“Hm? Perhaps my new recipe will help soothe you. If the feeling persists.. meet me after hours.”

You take another bite, another walk back home, and another episode of hyperventilation. You breathe in, eyes flitting to the mirror you can't seem to reach – or rather you can't seem to keep yourself standing despite your fearful heart lurching in your chest.

And as per Jiaoqiu's predictions, you do meet him after hours. But you can't tell with the blend of reality and your hallucinations. You're not sure if it's the moon, but you're sure Jiaoqiu stares down at you, silver and gold melding into your delicate vision.

—--

Jiaoqiu has many characters of a cat than he does of a fox

Or rather, you say that because you probably haven't interacted with a fox before.

All the times you were sick and bedridden, Jiaoqiu made it almost his personal mission to look after you. He wouldn't be around for too long, thankfully. Long hours at work or the other. But he comes back and makes the best soup you could ever have, especially with your illness.

But you find the meat makes your body slightly reactive, at least when you're sick. Jiaoqiu brushes it off and insists you eat regardless.

His cheek rubs against your shoulder when you wake up, telling you how dearly he missed you. You yawn, eyes still closed and heavy from sleep while you wake up, but you can notice the slight grazing of his pointed teeth on your skin. 

You watch as he dutifully grinds up herbs and other malleable herbs into the mortar. He grew them himself, he tells you. It's simply better to alter and enhance them when you can get your hands on them, he tells you.

That's a beautiful flower, you tell him. His dutiful hands temporarily withhold in the air above the mortar, the soft stem bent and almost breaking in his fingers. He chuckles softly. You've been tasting it for a while in your food now, he informs you. You hum as he grinds it into the powdery mixture. Was that the source of bitterness?

-

Jiaoqiu has a taste for many peculiar things. But he also has a taste for humans. Or, more or less, just you.

Ever since you've become a regular, Jiaoqiu has been eager to offer you a sneak peek into the kitchen. He sits you down for the milder part of the cooking process, chatting away with you as he waits for one or the other thing to marinate, rise, or separate. His hand not so subtly itching to yours over the countertop, forcing your hand to slip into his glove. When you whine or complain about the constriction of the material, Jiaoqiu only responds with a quiet smile, his ears twitching the slightest bit. 

Sometimes, he lets you look around the kitchen, with sanitary limitations, of course. You eye the meat that looks a bit too red, or the one with a few too many strings in it to be written off as normal. You gaze at the blood seeping into the water. Myoglobin, he tells you. But you think your eyes are keener than that.

He feeds you well, isn't hesitant to add in a few extra medicinal herbs to your food, serves you the special tea he prepares only for momentous occasions.

And the best meat he finds.

Its a beautiful red, in his opinion. You stare as the knife cuts through the meat, the strings loosening and tearing. The blood– myoglobin, he corrects you, taints his hands, ungloved. Its far easier to determine the cleanliness without gloves. They tend to give you a false sense of it. He tells you.

You watch, the smell of the raw meat making you scrunch your nose the slightest bit. He chuckles fondly when he sees that on your face.

He finds you to be one of the people he's met, that he's taken a liking to. As for the one that he considers distasteful.. well, he's sure he can find some use of them. Especially if you dislike them, too.

-

You're sure something is wrong.

The soups make you dizzy, your body bursts into hives, your heart rate goes up. Something in it is causing you severe distress, but you can't understand what exactly it might be. You've staved away from his shop for a while. 

Until one day – Jiaoqiu senses your hesitation. His smile is no longer on his face, despite his closed eyes. He quietly allows you to inspect the kitchen after hours, his back turned to you, grinding, crushing, snapping the herbs into the mortar. You especially eye the red meat he stores away, and this time he doesn't tell you off. He continues to grind the herbs, shuffling through a few cabinets for them, before continuing. You've insisted on calling it blood and not myoglobin. Because you can taste it in your food.

He tells you, you're hallucinating. It's a side effect of your sickness he's had to help ward off lately. But you're sure he's wrong. He hums, and continues quietly. The darkness of the kitchen only illuminated by scarce yellow lighting, and the sterile, white glow of the fridge as you continue staring at it. Your eyes wander at the various meats before–

You spot something behind it.

His meats are sourced from various animals, with smaller organs, incomparable to the size of humans.

Was this animal mutated? Or simply particularly large?

You gently kneel down, hearing Jiaoqiu snapping the stem of a flower and continue grinding the herbs, your eyes settled fiercely onto the incomprehensible.. thing.

Your shaking hand reaches out, the coldness of the fridge making you shiver, although it's not exactly the cold, is it?

Your fingers touch the strange surface of the unidentifiable meat. Pericardium. Your fingers reach further and gently grasp it. It's about the size of your fist.

You breathe out, your heart thudding in the quiet of your mind as you stare at the one in your hands.

…

Has it always been this quiet?

You look back and are met with Jiaoqiu's golden eyes.

His default smile returns to his face, but this time, his golden eyes are staring directly at you.

You should have stayed out of his kitchen. Who knows what he'd been feeding you?

-

[valtsv]

i dont think youve posted much about kabru so i was wondering what your thoughts were on him? i feel like you'd enjoy him a lot. and any opinions on labru (laios x kabru)?

i'm a kabumisu guy sorry to disappoint on that front i'm into a different kind of weirdguy yaoi. but as a character i fucking love kabru so much. he's such an incredibly good and realistic portrayal of someone with complex ptsd from an unresolved and violent traumatic event - his hypervigilance particularly stands out as both an asset and a detriment to his character; it drives him to hone his skills of observation and action, but also blinds him to the possibility that people might be capable of being kind or helpful out of the genuine goodness of their hearts with no ulterior motive. he's such a layered character, too; at first he comes across as an experienced but cocky young adventurer, then you wonder if perhaps he's an antagonistic force to laios' party and their goals, and then you realise that he does, in fact, care a great deal about the future of humanity and the safety and wellbeing of others, as much as any of the other big players in the story, and the way he expresses that has simply been shaped by his unique life experiences. kabru is very much the 'team humanity' character, but in a way that isn't eye-rollingly sanctimonious. he's the straight man (in the trope sense of the word) who has the power to influence a great deal of change and good just by being willing to know when to act to ensure those aims prevail, and when to trust someone else's judgement to see it through, which he comes to learn better as his arc and the story progresses. also, i fucking cheered when i realised that the reason he fares so poorly against the monsters of the dungeon is because he's learned how to disarm and kill other people. i LOVE a character who is fundamentally in favour of protecting human life and safety, but who also sees humanity as its own greatest threat to itself.

[tremendum]

i've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you

[not my gif. title from song Of All the Gin Joints in All the World] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)      

word count: 4.6k  requested: Could you write something (literally anything really) like mean Joel x feisty Reader but based on the ancient Fall Out Boys song "Of All the Gin Joints in All the World" pretty please? 🥺🥹 I was just listening and I thought the lyrics were perfect for your writing ❤️But as always no pressure and no problem at all if you don't like the idea or anything else. Lots of love! P.S. smut is very welcome btw hihihi summary: “Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job." warnings: established previous hookups, use of girl/babygirl, established age gap (unspecified but addressed openly), brief mention of oral m!receiving, brief mention of reader and joel’s canon-typical scars. choking, mean!Joel & brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader lol, dirty talk (its joel), degradation, use of the word slut, slight dumbification, spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum eating, nipple play, slapping (tits, ass). think that's it!

notes: okay finally another mean!Joel for the soul!!! this is super unedited also. tysm for the request, obv inspired by the song Of All The Gin Joints in All the World by FOB. :) this was fun and i hope yall love it! dont b afraid to request anything yall wanna read at all and as always pls comment or reblog :) love u xoxo  

[other Joel fics: mr. miller series fever landmines  ]

★  

Joel Miller isn't sure exactly when all this bullshit started. 

one day, he was introduced to you fleetingly in the cafeteria while you and Maria had an intense conversation - he’s not sure if you spoke for more than ten seconds; but months later and Joel happens to know exactly what your sweaty skin tastes like on the sharpness of his tongue and could probably list his favorite pairs of underwear you own. 

it's nothing, really. 

you patrol together often, and Joel guesses that out of all the insufferable people he's had to deal with, you're definitely not the worst. perhaps your handiness with a trigger - not nearly as inept as his own but definitely a close second - helps; or maybe it's the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock. 

and he's not stupid; he knows exactly what Tommy was doing when he signed Joel with you for patrol - the same shit he'd been pulling since they were thirty years younger and Joel was fresh out of the relationship with Sarah's mom. but it's different now, because life is not the same - nothing is the same. 

Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job. 

you are one talkative motherfucker; usually, that'd drive Joel up a wall, but after repeated and incessant exposure to Ellie for such an extended period, his patience has surprisingly grown.

and unlike others, you never acted nervous or scared by him. irritated, maybe, but it's not like he cares much if you get irritated by his attitude; you're worse than he can be.

at first, he thought you were just fucking him because you just didn't know who he really was yet. but months into whatever this shit is, and you're still - for whatever fucking reason - hanging around him, even after everything. he likes it, though, that you fight fire with fire.

and maybe that's why Tommy stuck you two together, because in some ways it was inevitable - maybe it was a good thing, Joel thinks. 

but this morning, as Joel's mind slams against his body, jolting him awake, his aching head makes him double-guess that.

it's weird how different it all is now - before you, Joel was tortured through nights plagued with sweats and memories. blood, pain, loss. he used to dream restlessly of life and all of its unforgiving horrors; but now, to his shock, he finds himself plagued with dreams of you. 

he gasps awake - he's not sure he'll ever stop that. 

but this time, you're next to him in the bed. his skin feels warm as the light filters through the blinds that stay constantly pulled down this time of year to retain the cool air and Joel lets out a shuttered sigh, his head aching.

it's only the second time you've stayed the night. he's never stayed at yours, god forbid - but a small part of him aches this morning when you slide out of his heavy, sleep-addled muscles. in the absence of your heat there is still bliss for a moment, until he's roused fully by your voice. 

"these sheets are dirty." the sound carries into his ears, melodic and fiery. he cracks one eye open, hand raising to rub over his face - a deep, tired sigh. 

"g'mornin' to you too." he snarks, sighing as he pulls himself on aching muscles to blink his eyes open; you stand over the bed, on the side that usually remains cold an empty while Joel thrashes in fits of restless sleep. there's not a single scrap of clothing on your body.  

he feels himself stir at the sight of you, naked, neck painted in a splattering of beautiful marks that'd been pulled forth in moments of ecstasy the night before.

you send him a half smirk, shrugging as you tug on a shirt - his, fuck, his stomach swirls at the sight of you wrapped in him. something primal crawls in his chest as you smile at him, legs almost glowing in their bareness as they knock against the side of the mattress. your fingers brush the fabric to the left of his head. 

"there's stains on the pillows." you shake your head, your face alluring in its tease. he feels himself roll his eyes as he grunts, "you're actin' like it ain't your makeup stainin' it?" 

he stares at the marks on the pillowcase; black, from that shit you sometimes put on your eyes which just makes them all the more beautiful, wide, and alluring. the makeup that's surely expired after all this time but still is something you like to do to, as you'd mentioned once, 'reclaim your humanity.' whatever.

Joel would never admit it to you, but he hadn't even really tried to wash out those stains; something about them gives him a warmth in his chest every morning that he wakes up in this cold bed. 

but when his eyes fall back to you in your silence, you smirk and it hits him: you're fucking teasing him.

he glares at you as your lips curl in a huff of a laugh, shaking your head. "if you keep complainin' about every damn thing, might as well just fuck you on the floor." he mutters, mostly to himself-  but also to see the way your thighs shift, eyes widening slightly as color washes your cheeks. you're squirming at his words, just like that - oh, he's got you pinned.

you'd like that, you dirty little thing.

but you regain your composure quicker than lightning, ready to snap back; yet another tally to add on the list of things he admires about you.

"you're such a gentleman, Miller." you snide, fanning yourself sardonically with one hand as you roll your eyes, searching for your underwear. 

he remembers the first time you'd said that to him -

"why so shy?" you'd purred. the memory of your voice curls around his ears as he huffs, watching you bend over and give him a complete view of your ass as you fetch your panties from the floor.  "c'mon, Joel, you don't need to be such a gentleman. 's nothing you haven't seen before." you'd stripped yourself of your shirt, your pert nipples pebbling in the cold breeze as he'd sat, cleaning his rifle. "the hell's the matter with you?" he'd grumbled; but it didn't stop either of you. you'd been pressed between him and the splitting backseat of the broken down crashed car within seconds, anyways. 

his eyes meet yours as you stand again. 

he snarks, "well you’re givin' me a headache, an' I've only been up for two minutes." he glares at you, swinging to pull his boxers over his hips, standing up to find his shirt. he pointedly ignores the glare you send him at his grumpiness. 

"you're the one acting dumb," you mutter, "acting like I'm the one who gives you headaches." you retort, a teasing glint in your eye; he knows that look. Joel knows you'd never get a headache from him - as much as he pisses you off, he knows you're too fiery, too lucky to get caught up in whatever miserable puddle he's drowning in. 

because Joel's bad luck curls around his fists wherever he goes; the talons reaching out, crawling through every hallway and seeping through every door. you, on the other hand, are like a goddamn firecracker. Joel hates the idea, but you're... somehow gifted in that way.

he's convinced his bad luck couldn't touch you if it tried. 

no matter the dumb shit you pull - forgetting a flashlight, not flipping off your safety that one moment when the clicker had stumbled out of the brush; all of that, and you escape unscathed, nothing but a giggle and a half-shrug from you before you move on to the next stupid thing. 

if you weren't such a goddamn brat, it'd be charming. 

his eyes snap to yours as your words fall from your lips; a burning in his chest at your tone. he watches your legs carry you into his bathroom, and he can't help it when his follow yours.

you haven't even flipped on the lights before he shuts the door behind him - you're already wearing that snarky fucking smile on your face, and he's straining already against his boxers.

he stares down at you, crowding you slowly into the wall. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he hisses, mouth close to yours. as you turn your chin up towards his face, he can tell that you try your hardest to control your smirk, playing into the tense energy that's emanating from his chest. 

"I said you're acting dumb."

you repeat, tilting your head slightly as you drink in the darkness in his eyes. lord, you'd let that darkness swallow you in a fucking heartbeat. 

speaking of; your own heartbeat thunders in your chest, anticipating. you know what's coming, you can nearly taste it on your tongue. 

"oh, 's that right?" Joel asks, tilting his head to stare down at you. you swallow as you stare back into those deep irises, the small bit of golden light that shines through the small bathroom window illuminating in an ominously heavenly ray.

his hand settles on the crook of your shoulder and neck, sliding gently upwards as you nod your head defiantly, pushing as far as you can to see when he'll snap. his eyes glisten in temptation; daring you to act up more. 

raising your brows, you try to play like it's obvious, "waking up and complaining about your headaches, old man?" you tut gently, shaking your head innocently. "I don't think it's my fault that you fucked me twice, immediately passed out and now your head hurts when you've woken up the next morning. you know better than to push yourself in your old age, Joel. that's stupid." you add coyly, knowing it'll push him over the edge - he loves it when you act like a brat, no matter how much he denies it. 

his response is immediate and exactly what you'd hoped for. 

he's on you in a split second - hand sliding from your shoulder to grip your throat, pushing you back onto the wall of the bathroom. the towel bar digs into your middle-back slightly and you gasp in arousal at the force of his body on yours. you can feel his cock, hard and straining in his boxers, as it presses into your lower stomach. 

"y'wanna play like that, baby?" he growls, "why you fuckin' around with an old man like me, then?" he asks.

your face heats up, arousal flooding your core, your cunt slowly wetting itself at the purr of his voice - the meaner the words, the larger the flame. 

"hm?" he gently pushes, raising his brows as his hand squeezes gently on your throat, nudging you against the wall further; your gasp is slightly rasped under the pressure, your whole body screaming with desire. this is what you love - mean, angry, hungry Joel Miller. "'s it because nobody fucks you like I do, is that it?"

his knee slides between yours, wedging himself high up, rubbing suddenly against your aching pussy, the material of your cotton already soaked with a damp spot that rubs against his thick thigh. 

"Joel, fuck-" you groan, already willing to just do what you can to get him to touch you. his hand on your throat tightens at your word, thigh rutting up to slide against your needy clit, your hips bucking at the feeling. "-'s because nobody else is so easy." your fiery mouth betrays your body; the snarky comment snaps his eyes to yours, a dark breath leaving his lips. 

"that's ironic," he snaps, "comin' from someone who begged me to fuck them for hours." 

your face burns at the memory of the first time you and Joel'd hooked up; your desperate voice hoarse from pleading him to fuck you - out in the middle of the woods, a sleeping bag that, by the end, had rips on it from rocks and twigs and the force of his thrusts; the shyness gone from either of you as your touches made up for all the silence between you.

he hums lowly, watching you as you swallow at the memory, his thigh rutting up again and pulling a yelp of pleasure from your lips. "y'don't feel so high 'n mighty when I fuck you stupid, right baby?" he asks, voice dripping with condescendence as he nods gently, encouraging you to answer him. your core throbs at his words, your mouth going dry. 

his hand leaves your throat; you swallow a gulp of air, staring with wide eyes as he grasps your jaw roughly. "answer me." 

"n-no, I don't." you mutter, voice sounding small; the arousal that pulses through your veins begs your mouth to be smart, do what Joel says so he'll give in to what you want. 

he smirks, hands roughly grabbing the thick of your hips and flipping you around to press you against the counter, your hips bending as he shoves himself just behind you. your eyes meet yourself and his own hawkish gaze in the mirror in front of you; your heated breath fogs up the mirror in the faint morning light. 

his fingers thread through your hair, tugging you back again as he tilts your head back. his upside down face, smirking down at you, has your thighs clenching - "open." he orders, voice stern. 

your tongue sticks out and he wastes no time spitting roughly onto your tongue, moving your head back to stare into the mirror; his eyes meet yours as his spit slides over your tongue and his furrowed brows twitch with a slight smirk. "look at you, doin' what I tell you. now swallow it and say thank you." 

your core flutters at his words deliciously as you do as you're told; swallowing, you take a breath and mutter, "thank you," - though it's more breathless than you expected, Joel seems to approve. he hums, "there are those manners," he mutters into your ear, cock pressing against the swell of your ass. "almost seemed like you'd forgotten you had them." 

"didn't forget." you mutter, face heating up as your pussy aches, fluttering around nothing and desiring for his fingers, his cock - anything. 

one rough palm slides his shirt up your torso, exposing your bare tits to both of you through the mirror. with his face stooped down near your neck, a short inhale of your hair before his hand reaches it's destination - your throat. 

"then why're you actin' up?" he rasps, teeth grazing your shoulder. he squeezes his hand again and your eyes roll back in pleasure, arousal soon slicking your thighs as you think you may die from all the teasing. "you don't wanna cum?" 

your eyes widen, breath halting as you shake your head, "wh- no- no!" you hiss, "I do want to cum, please." 

his other hand raises, slapping your breast harsh and quick; your gasp of shock tapers off into a whine of pleasure, your nipples hard in arousal as his palm comes to soothe over the sting. 

"then why're you acting like this?" he asks again, shaking his head. another slap, this time to your other breast. his eyes follow the skin of your chest; the way you gasp, your whines at the slight stinging and the pleasure that follows. fingers pinch your nipples, teasing in circles before another sharp slap echoes through the room. "just a little brat, y'can't help yourself." he decides, biting on your neck lightly. 

you can feel him rut against you hard, grinding his hips as he lets out a short groan. you let out a low moan, whining slightly when he smacks your tits again, skin glowing with the impact. his eyes meet yours in the mirror. "quit the whinin'," he grunts, rutting his hard cock against your ass, "you'll be stuffed full of me soon enough." he grunts, "then we'll see who's dumb." 

your shaky moan sounds more like a groan, elbows falling to steady yourself as Joel releases your throat, tossing you forward to grab your hips instead. he pulls you back, grinding into you as his head tilts back in how own small groan of pleasure. "this ass." Joel grunts to himself as he palms the curve of your ass in both large hands, one falling to smack harsh onto the left. 

you're dripping down the inside of your thighs as he ruts against you twice more; thick fingers soon slide to thumb at the slick wet of your panties. his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with need, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty pussy, just for me." he mutters; you nod, looking up at him through the mirror, "all for you, Joel." you affirm, voice shaking with anticipation. 

"you gonna be good when I fill you up, baby?" he lifts his brow, stern look as he palms himself. fuck, he's so sexy behind you like this, his thumb slowly dragging the material of your panties to the side and exposing your weeping cunt; you nod, "yes, I'll do anything-" 

you're cut off by a sharp gasp as the stretch of his cock's head cuts off your brain. he eases in gently at first which you're more than grateful for - no matter how many times Joel fucks you, his size is always something you have to adjust to; especially after your rounds last night left you barely able to walk straight. 

he lets out a breath, "there y'go, baby, take me." he says it surprisingly gently, easing in inch by inch as you breathe deeply, your soaked pussy easing his cock through your channels. his cock is heavy and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within another few seconds - Joel's hands grip so hard on your ass, splaying you open for him, that you think his fingers will remain there for days. 

he's still only for a moment, letting you accommodate to his size before he's leaning forward to press his chest to your back, "gonna fuck you stupid, baby." 

"please, Joel," you groan, cunt fluttering, begging him to move. "do it." 

it's all that he needs before he's setting a pace that has you whining under him, your breath choking as you brace yourself agains the counter of the sink. 

it's bliss. his hips are sharp, the reach of his cock pressing against the spongy spot inside you, dragging against your pulsing walls. "fuck, so deep-" you hiss, eyes closing in pleasure as he presses himself against you, hips surely going to bruise against the thrusts that shove you into the countertop. 

one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as his cock reaches up into you deeply. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- christ, you're s-so tight," he grunts, "even after fuckin' you all night." 

you moan, the quick bout of his praise causing you to squeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. the both of you moan at the feeling and suddenly one hand presses on your spine until you're low to the counter. his hands grab your shoulders, fingers curling around the base of your throat as he changes his pace to hard and rough, the sound of your ass against his hips nearly hitting your ears over your cries of pleasure. 

the noises of your arousal swallowing his cock echo around the room in a familiar, comforting chorus as you both let out shuttering moans; his strong arms pull you back until you're once again pressed against his broad chest. his breath fans over your neck and you whine slightly when his thrusts press you up onto your tip-toes. his lips find your ear, "how's that feel?" your hole flutters from the deepness in his voice - he groans at the feeling. 

your response is a whine of ecstasy as you claw at his forearms, head tilting back until you can almost feel his erratic heartbeat. his chest rumbles with a light chuckle, "look, barely took ya any time to get fucked out on my cock," he praises, hand petting your wild hair, "knew you'd be good for me. always take what I give you, right?" 

you nod, desperate to reach the climax that's easily built within you from the stretch of him deep in you and his voice in your ear. your clit aches from being ignored and your hand snakes down to rub light circles on it; your hips jolt as you gasp raggedly, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. 

"no." he growls, hand grabbing your jaw sternly as he pounds into you, "when I'm fuckin' you, you keep your eyes on me." he snaps, squeezing your cheeks. "'s that clear?"

you nod in the mirror, whines getting louder as his name falls nearly incoherently from your lips- you see his lips ghost over your neck, the smirk that spreads over his pink lips as you finally get out a strangled, "Joelpleaseplease- s'close-" 

he knows what you need; you and Joel are each other's best escape. he pistons into you hard, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "easy, huh?" he snarls, hips just as harsh as his words, eyes sharp on yours. "who's easy, baby - me, or the one beggin' like a slut to cum on my cock?" 

for someone so quiet and closed off, Joel Miller has never shied away from using his goddamn words when he's fucking you, that's for sure. his words, his accent - they push you towards the edge and it almost distracts you from his question. his eyebrows raise in the silence as you gasp for words, moans choked  as his fingers slide down from your jaw to squeeze your throat. 

"look at'cha, can't even speak for me," he groans, his hand suddenly snaking down to smack your away from your clit; two larger, calloused fingers replace your shaky ones and you wail at the stimulation, almost too much.

you blink up at him through the mirror, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful growing; you let out a whine of ecstasy. "I'm- I'm easy," you concede, finally able to spit your words out, your voice higher than normal in your pleasure. 

Joel nods, kissing your sweaty hairline, "'s goddamn right you are, babygirl," he hisses, "easy for me. this pretty little pussy is mine, isn't it?" 

you scream, "yours, Joel-" before he barely finishes the sentence.

with your words, he smiles against your neck - the feeling of it sends goosebumps over your whole torso. "you're a lucky girl," he growls in your ear, teeth brushing the shell before licking it gently, "you can cum." 

you barely realize you've hit your orgasm until you’re writhing - a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision as your eyes roll back. he fucks you steadily through your orgasm, your thighs closing slightly around his large palm, but his fingers don't stop their motions on your clit. 

you shake and stutter for gasps as he pounds into you, chasing his own high that's been spurred - by your own words or the clenching of your orgasm around him, you're unsure. 

"love how you feel-" he groans, voice weakening as he nears his own orgasm, hips sloppy as he pushes your face down, against the cool tile of the bathroom sink. "fuck, baby, made to take this cock." 

his sentences are choppy, his gasps and grunts of pleasure mixing with the slap of your ass against him as he thrusts, your legs tired as he fills you full and then suddenly pulls out. you gasp at the suddenness of his absence, turning to look at him as if betrayed - but he looks completely gone, eyes dark with need. "gonna cum on your tits, sweetheart." 

your stomach flips at the word - one he's never used before - and you relax into his harsh grip, moving down to the ground on your knees as he grunts, "take this shit off now." 

his shirt is on the ground in half a second, your breasts bare to him as he fists his cock, eyes on you and lidded with pleasure. your hands fall onto his strong thighs, looking up at him in awe as he fists his cock, slick with your sticky spend, tip flushed and veins stretching over the shaft. "please, cum on me, want it so bad, Joel," you whine - his hand caresses your jaw and slips over your lips, sticking his thumb into your mouth. you suck eagerly and he moans your name deep, head tilting back in ecstasy. 

"fuck," he grunts, slipping his thumb out of your mouth before you can even swirl your tongue around it, and then he's hitting his orgasm.

ropes of his cum land on your tits, a small bit gathering on your chin as he slows his hand, letting out a few sharp breaths. he's barely caught his breath before your fingers are gathering a swipe of his thick cum, bringing it to your mouth. his dark eyes follow you through his labored breaths as you slowly suck his spend off of your fingers, "fuckin'- pretty," he mumbles into his hand as he runs a palm over his face, shaking his head. 

you smile, cheeks heating up. the sun is rising and the room is fully golden, bouncing off the mirror and illuminating his tan skin, the scars on his body and yours. he's pretty, you realize. 

you tell him so, quietly - in the silence of the bathroom. his scowl softens and you swear you see a blush forming as he rolls his eyes down at you from where you perch on the linoleum. 

Joel always says you only tell him sweet things to get him to fuck you - but in the afterglow of your actions, you catch sight of your makeup-stained pillowcase back in Joel's bedroom and it makes you grin. you know he doesn't wash it for a reason, the same reason you keep coming back to him. 

and you also know that the way he smooths his thumb over your hairline, the way your own hands in turn soothe over his thighs - those actions, they make up for everything else that's unspoken.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @onmytallesttiptoess @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers

message me if i forgot to tag u. i was pretty lazy with this one sorry. requests are open.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

[ganondoodle]

since i have seen this argument pop up again and again and now its used to defend the minecraft movie

i really hate the argument that something, be it a movie or a game, can be as shitty as it wants when its primarily aimed at kids (or people THINK it is aimed mostly at kids) bc its 'just for kids'

like children are lesser an stupid? like they arent incredibly impressionable and deserve good movies? im not saying they should only watch critical acclaimed drama movies, but you can make a movie 'for kids' AND make it good, its been done before, sure there will always be shit movies, and thats fine, but dismissing any kind of criticism towards them bc "its just for kids" feels so unecessarily mean spirited towards children, like they are little people in wildly different stages of development!! they can think too!!

'kids' itself is such a wide range that i feel its not very useful as a category anyway, a 5 year old isnt the same as an 11 year old, both of them should get good things, and both can watch or play things they may not completely understand yet! i grew up with shrek, and while a big parody and haha fart humor movie, they (1+2) have an incredibly strong core, i didnt udnerstand them fully when i was little, so what? i still enjoyed them, i felt more connected to them than any disney movie (bc hey .. the monster is the main guy and no they dont all turn into conventionally pretty humans as the ultimate reward- i felt othered throughout my life too) and i still do, theres jokes and themes and meaning i understood fully only when i was rewatching them as an adult, i still enjoy them even at 27

and like, shouldnt it ESPECIALLY matter what children watch? (not in the puritan brain worm way) bc they are ... people in development?? do you think if they just sit down and watch shitty movies and play games that dont challenge them at all, be it thinking critically or emotionally, all day it wont have an affect on them??

(im sorry to bring up totk again, but that 'its for kids' argument has been used to defend it so much too, and its so incredibly annoying to me, ah yes, its puzzles are all skippable or easy as shit bc its main target are kids and children are stupid and shouldnt be challenged ever, the story is a simple fairytale type deal maybe to you, but contains alot of harmful stereotypes that have led to real world harm and its repeated unquestionably while offering nothing intersting to think or engage with, theres a reason alot of childrens media contains alot of stereotypes to propaganda even but its just for kids of course its not propaganda bc kids are stupid and cant understand that lol BECAUSE they are so impressionable, if a series 'for kids' only lets the girls be in frilly pink dresses and do 'girly' stuff do you not think that wil affect how they think about themselves??

if they keep seeing the light skinned blonde heroe stab the unquestioned evil arab stereotype bc he wants to take over your holy land bc hes just 'evil' and is never ever humanized in any way and only presented as a monster, while the good little maiden princess does everything she can to support her hero in shiny armor with big sad doe eyes and pretty little white dress- do you not think it will affect them? if it were an isolated incidence perhaps not much, but its a stereotype perpetuated to such a degree that you think its just 'how fairytales go'? yeah, you have been influenced by these portrayals, they are working as intented- and if they are used as such in media without the writer intending to influence you that way? thats even worse bc it means it has been so normalized to think that way people dont even realize it- while alot of real people in the world are ganondorf, they are demonized and dehumanized, others think of them as inherently evil.. but its just a "simple fairytale"

yes i know children can also question things on their own, but you shouldnt assume that comes naturally and then also in just the correct way, i questioned why i was just doing whatever the talking boat told me to do when i first played windwaker as a kid, but more bc i liked how ganondorf looked and hated being told things to do without a good reason being given (autism much?), 'evil' didnt do it for me, but that doesnt mean i knew he was an evil arab stereotype, i didnt like tetra turning white as zelda, bc i thought she looked cooler before and i didnt like 'girly' things myself, not bc i knew it was whitewashing

-not saying media should be free of anything 'problematic', the problem is how its presented and never questioned or engaged with critically and then that stupid argument being used to dismiss it like children are both unable to think and not influencable somehow-)

[queenothegeeks]

Creator with coping mechanisms

part 2! Part one can be found here (pls let me know if the link doesn’t work I’m doing this on my phone and I’m d y i n g)

Even the creator gets stressed, so, how do you relax?

A creator who cooks or bakes to deal with stress

After a very stressful day of meeting important dignitaries and public figures, you felt like settling down, reading a recipe or making something from memory to remind you of home. Maybe you have music playing in your head or maybe it’s just empty, feeling comfortable doing something you love

Maybe giving the food you make to other characters in the game, or you hand them out to random people, like kids from the house of the hearth.  Or maybe you just sit and eat it all for yourself (which, is valid, bc tbh I don’t want anyone else eating my food)  

Hey (insert character)! I made too much of this and I was wondering if you wanted some! I hope you like it!

Hey Timme, I'm really sorry for scaring away all the birds, but I made an extra loaf of bread for you to feed them with, is that okay? 

Creator who writes stories or fanfiction as a coping mechanism (me) 

Finding it hard to sit down and write, even though you really want to. Maybe it's the environment or the people that you are with, but once you get into the zone, the world just disappears. 

Maybe you write the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed, with found family and just silly moments with your characters (oc or not), or perhaps you write the saddest things known to god that make even the most heartless of characters cry

“Are you…are you crying”

(sniff, sniff) NO! Maybe…” 

“Are you okay? Why are you crying”

“I stole-borrowed your notebook because I was worried about you (they wanted more intel or smt idk) and I started reading it. And it's really sad WHY ARE YOU WRITING SUCH SAD STUFF?”

“WHY ARE YOU READING MY NOTEBOOK!?” 

A creator who embroiders to relax (don't @ me pls i've never embroidered) 

You didn't tell anyone about it, knowing that someone would try to convince you to make business out of it (probs Dori) but after you had to ask for a few bandages after you poked your hand on your needle, the cat was out of the bag. 

“But we could sell it for a ton! We could even send a few things to museums! …if you want ig”. 

“Thanks, I'm good…”

“Why not!?”

(Don't threaten them with needle Dont threaten them with needle Don’t threaten them with needle-)

Or if you get lucky, maybe they just ask you to make them something instead of making a glorified pyramid scheme. 

“Can you make something for me?”

“You should work with Chiori!”

“Can you embroider me!?”

… Yeah maybe this isn't much better.

Chaos demon! (Arson with klee 2.0!)

“Are they okay..?”

“Let them have this”

“Sir, their grace is setting everything on fire”

“Its fine”

Let me know if I missed any habits in the comments! Remember, if you see any spelling mistakes, no you didn’t.

[lua-stellar]

What Beliefs Do You Need to Let Go of?? ✨Tarot Reading

disclaimer this draws on energy from the collective take what resonates etc etc also this reading is critical inherently so know what u r getting into <3

Tip Me on Ko-Fi $5 Tarot Readings Masterlist

pile 1

cards drawn: reversed five of pentacles, reversed king of cups, reversed the hierophant

i feel like you are someone who may exhibit self sabotaging behaviour, and even addictive like behaviour, you are someone who may have alot of insecurity and you deal with it in destructive escapist ways and that causes you to act decietful to others and again i'm getting an energy of self sabotaging and harming your relationships through these actions. Stop coping in ways that are hurting you and the people around you, don't be decietful or greedy and instead of going the escapist route whenever something bad happens or you don't want to deal with the emotional turmoil you deal with, instead of escaping try confronting it and changing yourself so you aren't self sabotaging. So you aren't hurting your relationships with others, be kind to yourself and take it slow and try to remember all of your actions have consequences and in order to move on you must confront your problems.

pile 2

cards drawn: queen of cups, reversed four of wands, ten of swords,

I am getting the vibe that you are someone who holds grudges easily, and you tend to have a strong sense of justice. I feel like the culmination of multiple factors and feelings have you feeling this deep deep resentment for something, i assume perhaps for the people around you. I'm getting strong strong emotional energy and yeah just pure emotion, you feel cheated of something that you deserve more and you feel that you are being blocked by others and that people are holding you down and creating all of these blockages in your life. Even if this is true you must let go of all the resentment and the bitterness; you might get sick from holding that much resentment inside. You should try let go of what is holding you down instead of staying in your current environment, make efforts to change your environment whatever that is, even if its a slow process.

pile 3

cards drawn: reversed king of wands, reversed six of pentacles, reversed king of cups

you are someone who is judgemental and have too many prejudices on things, things always have to be right or orthodox for you. I feel like you are stingy and dont like to share with others, you dont repay your debts, you are very emotional and self sabotage and refer to escapist behaviour whenever you disagree with someone or you are inconvenienced or whenever you face the consequences of your actions. You dont challenge your beliefs because you think that you are always right and that you can't be challenged. You really need to let go of your judgement, you need to be more communal with others and share, repay your debts, you need to stop being stingy and selfish. You need to confront your problems instead of ignoring or running away from them, you need to treat people how you want to be treated.

[shotmrmiller]

https://x.com/babyboat22/status/1819915483795050893?s=46 dont look at me sideways but i see amateur thief reader and “victim” soap who let you rob his ass just to keep your hands on him. he couldnt stop humming and chuckling and grinning while you pinned him to the grimy brick alley wall, patting him down and trying to search for anything good. you nick the gold rosary chain his mother gave to him, but he’s hardly worried. just keeps talking, trying to hear your voice, like he isn’t being violently accosted at the moment. besides, he likes being manhandled by a pretty thing like you.

its a wonder why someone so bitty could grow the balls to do something like this. to someone like him, of all people. its the opposite of a power trip. kind of a rush, knowing that you have no idea that he’s entirely in control of the situation you put the both of you in. that if he wanted, he could reverse this little game of yours, have you struggling and crying just for him.

but he denies himself, lets you have your fun.

when you take his wallet (not a big deal, just a couple 20s worth) he asks if you could hand him some of the trojans in there as well, wonders aloud if he’ll need them. he hears you suck in a scandalized breath and shivers in pleasure when your movements grow more shaky as you keep trying to ignore him.

“no need ta take ‘em from me, bonnie. in a plenty givin’ mood, ye can just ask,” he huffs against the wall, looking back at you the best he can with his face smushed against the brick, dark and honeyed eyes. he bargains, in a deeper, more enticing voice, “could take ye ‘ome and let ye ransack the ‘ole place if ye decide ta play a ‘lil nice—“

you yank his head back sharply before smashing his cheek into the brick, earning a groan from the man in your clutches. “shut the fuck up!”

he can taste the blood on his lips, staining his teeth. it hurts but the pain has his boner throbbing hard and unignorable. he’s missed this type of violence. usually the only way he can get it off the field is from simon, but this will do. this will more than do.

perhaps him chuckling despite being mortally injured freaked you out finally because you hastily pocket your ill-gotten gains before turning tail and running off into the night. soap’s not worried. what type of mercenary would he be if he doesn’t keep track of what’s his? it’s not hard to find you after that, where you live, go to work, which movies you like to see in your free time.

so when you spot him just as he sits down next to you in the theater, you can’t help the paralytic feeling of realizing you recognize this man. can barely move when he smirks all pretty at you, split lip and all, as he wraps an arm around your seat and spreads his thighs so wide that they crush against yours, his big calloused hand squeezing your shoulder, pulling you into him like you’re old friends.

“sorry ‘m late,” he murmurs, leaning close to your ear, letting his breath hit hot on your lobe. “traffic ‘n all.”

you try to turn towards him, “you—“

“shh, shh—“ he tightens his grip on your shoulder, keeping you from moving away from him. his sudden strength is frightening. “dinnae distract from the movie, aye? paid good money for it, ah bet.” soap licks his lips and hums before smiling, his hand pushes under your arm to grab your tit. “let’s enjoy it together, then ah’ll take ye ‘ome with me. how’s that sound?”

okay okay i'm listeningggg

popcorn cold and soggy from the butter sits on your lap, the flavored water that was once an icee on your left. his hand is firm around your thigh after fighting through the previews to get him off your tits and arse.

a compromise. sure. but then you've got to go to the bathroom (curious because you've never gone anywhere while the movie is rolling, soap thinks) but okay. when you've gotta go, you've gotta go. the piss bottles he's had to toss in the bin after flying for hours in nikolai's metal stallion can attest to that.

and this, you think, clammy hands fisting the brand new secondhand shirt you got from goodwill, is your way out. away from him. maybe even to the police. you've only ever done this shit out of necessity. hoping to get enough out of the privileged to soothe the pang of gnawing hunger in your stomach (and that of the other street urchins)

whatever you thought could've happened doesn't because he's breathing down your neck from the moment you rise from your seat. his paw is in your back pocket while he walks you to the bathroom.

his hand stays in your pocket as he, with a chivalrous gesture, opens the door to said bathroom. he also aids you in getting in the stall. and no, not the bigger one at the end. he crams you into the very first one that's available, him following right behind. he fits in there like a rubber stopper. shoulders broad enough to touch both walls. arms like trunks cross over the breadth of his chest as he looks down at you expectantly.

"needed to piss, aye? go on. cannae 'ave you runnin' off again."

it's only when he leans down, his nose touching yours as he tells you to, "go 'fore ah make ye," that has your trembling fingers fumbling with the front button of your jeans.

[sugashook]

wade goes "i need you" and he literally grabs logan and is very clear and consistent on it, like i need you, all the time. i think logan needs that clarity and certainty and forwardness..honesty, someone to push him and need him. someone with transparent emotions that will get him out of his head,

and wade needs someone to be there for him no matter what a stable rock. it's like logan's no longer a puzzle piece for war, he's extremely important in wades world, his other half at the moment perhaps (bark)

wolverines entire thing is that he can take great beatings and come back seemingly fine and unaffected its like a very strong closed off person, a fortress that protects his emotions. i think he feels good having people to protect.

but that's also a bad thing because being really strong and feeling like you can take all the bullets you took in your life and bounce them off while at the same time suffering in silence seemingly unaffected by what happened to you is harmful to your psyche. and seeming this way to others as well is even a bigger issue, especially with logan who has the base need to be with people and be there for others.

and for that he NEEDS someone to dig deeper and pierce through his perfect disposition he is NOT easily open and easy going like wade he needs someone to see him and give him a chance and fight for him! wade will make way for himself in someones life, logan will go deeper into himself.

others could see you perfectly "unscathed" all the time and if they don't understand you or try to understand you and how much you can be dealing with complex emotions inside, they will grow resentful,you'll be rejected and treated badly.

wade is very fragile on the other hand, sure he regenerates, but the scars of his trauma are visible and harsh on him, he knows it , everyone knows it.

that's why he's so repulsive to others, his life beat him so hard that he can't control himself with his emotions and it weirds people out, they don't understand it and they get mad,upset,etc.

even scared just by looking at him, you survived trauma, but it shows on you how it affected you and it makes ME uncomfortable, that's pretty scary, you're different and you don't fit in anywhere. they judge him in the opposite way that logan is judged. your overwhelming presence is unnerving to me.

thats why wade hides with his suit his entire face, and the blood. dont notice me,my wounds, and the wounds i give to others. while logans suit screams "notice me!! i'm not okay!! i want people to see me!"

when he regenerates, wades body generates bad body tissue from his skin to his core. and the scars of all that trauma add new trauma so he's constantly re-traumatizing himself and it layers on. he doesn't get stronger or bounce it off himself, bad things such as trauma are just bad they create more bad and he's made out of all the bad things that happened during his life sort of, so he needs a lot of external support.

cause he has no strength left! all the trauma and SLS (shitty life syndrome) is like up to his gills. but he is very joyful and positive despite the harshness of life.

he is a little positivity clown bouncing around in wolverines fortress of solitude.

wolverine can sort of take attacks from life and endure and wade can attack life more easily, he's a positive, up beat, go getter. he loves the world and sees hope in it when there's none. and when the world doesnt love him back ,it crushes him and he cant take it. he doesn't understand how anything he tries he gets hurt by. but he never stops trying :)

logan shuts himself off from the cruel world with his perfect skin and metal bones, but the world has shut off from him as well. wade keeps being hurt and open to the world just like his open wounds and scarred body. even though the world hurts him through his openness.

[psuedosugu]

I definitely would love some more Vox x Singer!reader headcannons the concept is hella cool!!

omg yess ty i have so many thoughts about this

cw: themes of stalking, manipulation, harassment

gender neutral

pt 1 here

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ୨ ♱ ୧ ⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ୨ ♱ ୧ ⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ୨ ♱ ୧ ⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

˚୨୧₊♱ || yk how i mention how he takes you on “dates”?

˚୨୧₊♱ || he usually takes you to fancy restaurants for lunch so that you 2 can discuss potential brand deals. (definitely not so he has an extra hour and a half to stare at you and take in every feature you have)

˚୨୧₊♱ || you’re practically a walking billboard for voxtech with all of the sponsorships you get from him.

˚୨୧₊♱ || its not like you’re complaining, though, because he does pay well.

˚୨୧₊♱ || while he was looking after (stalking) you through your tv screen, he found out that you have sleeping problems!

˚୨୧₊♱ || he immediately started working on a tempur-pedic type mattress (these), and all because of you!

˚୨୧₊♱ || it was a win-win really, you get better sleep and he gets more sales (and more ways to stalk and get info about you)

˚୨୧₊♱ || if you were to get a significant other who’s also a celebrity, vox would plant false claims and rumors about them, forcing you to have to break up with them to save face.

˚୨୧₊♱ || if you were to enter an official relationship with him, wether it be on your own accord or due to his hypnosis, vox would definitely show you off and tell everyone that you were his.

˚୨୧₊♱ || you two were a power couple, star crossed lovers, he was the king and you were the queen, he was the president and you were the first lady.

˚୨୧₊♱ || or perhaps thats just what he thought, what he wanted others to think, what he really wanted you to think.

˚୨୧₊♱ || vox loved the feeling of calling you his, the thrill.

˚୨୧₊♱ || you were beautiful, an absolute doll, and just the right accessory for him.

˚୨୧₊♱ || vox really did care for you, albeit more like a trophy prize than a lover.

˚୨୧₊♱ || if you were to somehow escape from his grasp, he would be up in arms.

˚୨୧₊♱ || hed try to convince himself that its because you need him! what if someone came after you, knowing your value? what if you were hurt by someone?

˚୨୧₊♱ || but deep down he knew that its because he needs you.

˚୨୧₊♱ || you? you were independent, you were fine. but him? he wouldn’t know what to do without his favorite little thing, without your voice to calm him down, without your smile to brighten the whole room.

˚୨୧₊♱ || he started to be vulnerable with you, something he wasn’t with many people, and something he would grow to regret.

˚୨୧₊♱ || hed become desperate, projecting himself onto all of your electronics, begging you to just please, give him one more chance. hed learn, he’d grow, just please come back to him! dont you see how badly you’re hurting him?

˚୨୧₊♱ || after a while he would grow spiteful, kind of how he did with alastor (“he asked me to join his team, i said no and now he’s pissy….)

˚୨୧₊♱ || he might spread some secrets around about you, and maybe a few nasty lies too.

˚୨୧₊♱ || this was what you deserved, he thought. you had everything, everything he had to offer to you on a silver embellished spoon and you still threw it away!

˚୨୧₊♱ || so just stay with him okay? you’ll be happier that way, he promises.

̅⏝̅⏝̅ ୨ ♱ ୧ ⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ୨ ♱ ୧ ⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ୨ ♱ ୧ ⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

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[aristia-pjoheadcanons]

Hi! I wanted to ask for Percy x daughter of Apollo headcanons? Like best friends to lovers or wtv you feel like! Thank you but no worries if not 💕💕

☆Percy Jackson x Daughter of Apollo☆

Authors note: This is so sweet, i love best friends to lovers. (also, not me literally searching up what wtv means only to find out it means whatever and its not a trope lol)

you're his agapitós, just so you know. maybe he will come up with a nice nickanme and a private nickname for the two of you in private.

The child of Apollo has a bit of a love/hate relationship with their godly parent. On one hand, they admire Apollo's power and grace, but on the other hand, they feel like they can never live up to him.

They often struggle to decide if they should be proud of being his child, or if they should resent him for his high expectations.

Despite this inner turmoil, they do strive to live up to Apollo's ideals and make him proud.

Their relationship with Percy is a bit tense at times, you might often feel that Percy is too overprotective and doesn't let you take risks.

Despite this friction, you both genuinely care about each other deeply.

your bond with him is strong, you are dating a guy who only has eyes for his beloved.

maybe the child of apollo has a friend who is a troublemaker, a trickster and a prankster; which is how you managed to get acquainted with Percy.

Though you might not be a child of the big three or a prodigy like Annabeth, you put on a brave face and take down your foes with your skills, whether its medicine, archery, light - any weapon at all!

perhaps you are a charming person and can convicne a bunch of people to do something, even if you dont have charmspeak.

you are known to be the mediater during fights, someone people can rely on for good input since you arent biased. Which could be useful when dealing with the constant drama of demigod life.

capture the flag is the time for you to shine.

(I had to google this);The child of Apollo has the power to harness the energy of the sun, allowing them to create destructive solar blasts, drain the power of others, or even create an aura of warmth.

So, imagine the reader just harnessing the power of a STAR to make themselves overpowered in battle, landing accurate shots with their bow or even straight up knives, becoming faster and agile - flexible, moving so fast it looks natural.

heck, this type of fighting style is for sure gonna make percy stare and admire you.

I IMAGINE that you have a warm body because of the godly power that runs throuhg you, so if you were to hold percys hand (i imagine that hes kind of cold) youre a perfect pair.

demigod life is crazy and percy keeps getting dragged on quests, what if you join him and break the "3-people maximum in a party" rule? he would not care, he wants you near him because he trusts you and your abilities.

healing properties would also be nice but dont get too stressed, percy would never out you on the spot to make you uncomfortable.

percy is a feeler, he understands people because no one took the time to understand him, other than people really close to him. if you even furrow your brow in the slightest, this guy will try to think of anything that happened that day to make you upset or annoyed, and try to think of a solution. his solution is to engage in an awkward convo and give a compliment/pat on the back, but hes so goddamn awkward its funny but you cant laugh because you kind of want percy to keep doing right?

so you start doing the same, sit next to him when hes sitting alone, make your way toward him when he's literally just standing there completely comfortable with being alone;

but no, you want him to know you're there. give him a small smile and he would see you as somebody he can tlak to about his feelings! heck!!

during the pjo-series he never really lets himself feel too much, and instead undermines his feelings to the point he starts to ignore his on needs.

luckily, you are his anchor too. keep him on his toes but not in the way annabeth or the way his mother does; but in another way that can be even seen as intimite, if thats the right word for it.

caressing his back and wiping away his tears but letting him know that "hey, im not wiping them away because I want you to stop, but i'm wiping them away to let you know you're safe and not alone".

by the way, that last line?, would definetly make percy stop and stare at you like a deer in headlights and just try to process this whole entire situation. i dont know why but its funny for me to imagine him being angry or sad and just suddenly stopping, his eyebrows shoot up and he's staring at you as if he cant believe somebody does actually care about what he feels.

percy is a feeler who wont let himself feel, but you are there to remind him that in order for him to even confront his enemies, his foes - he needs to make an ally of himself first.

"dont make yourself your own enemy"

"*again percy is at a loss for words*"

beautiful and powerful, courages but not too aggressive, sentimental and empathetic, are words to describe the reader (definetly not percys own internal thoughts about you cough cough).

you stand out on your own, not because of who your godly parent is, but because of who you are. thats powerful and enough in itself. you dont need to be someone important to the prophecy or the war, you dont need to be someone great. you hold value in your worth for being you.

I feel like at some point you want percy to get out off his head for one second and look at himself the way you look at him.

it's up to you to determine what kind of person you want to be and what you want to make of your own life. and not because of some great prophecy.

Percy has always tried to do the best he can to live up to his destiny, but his own sense of self-worth and identity doesn't rely on those outside factors. percy values freedom and choice, which is why in the end he chose you because you make an impact on his life and his place in the world.

percy really isnt that difficult to get along with. if we tke a look at kane chronicles, he got to know the main character and was somewhat comfortable with him after fighting alongside him for literally 30-40minutes. the problem is that he never really opens up, maybe a result of his uppringing and unresolves trauma - you need to remind him that: control is not the same as suppression.

you would turn his world upside down for the better and his way thinking.

if its difficult through words, you write it down and make an essay about how great he is and how much more he can do with just being himself. he would read this in his room and on the ride home from long-island over and over again, at first he would be shocked - then flattered, happy and somewhat flustered.

he finds this compassionate side of you cute, that you are never really aggressive but are when it comes to letting him know that he is worth it and worth so much more.

he finds this side of you endearing, you speaking up (maybe not always but when the time is right) you stand tall with your chest full of words and you speak.

percys world would transform because of you. he cant be attracted to your light. it might seem like a normal light but it sparks full of life until it completely takes over before he can even understand whats going on.

His perspective and outlook on life would be completely altered by your compassionate and uplifting words.

He would be entranced by your light, drawn in by its brightness and energy, until it finally consumes him completely.

It's a powerful and transformative process that he might not even be able to comprehend or resist.

With you by his side, he would be transformed into something greater than he ever believed possible.

percy would in the end find his voice to speak up about his troubles, isntead of cracking a joke or making it seem like a joke.

or like the scene in HOO with Jason - just moving and and changing the subject when he sees that nobody said anythingn to comfort him (this scene makes me a tad-bit sad, he said it himself that he wasn't ok but bc they were exchausted nobody said anything so he just pretended he didnt say anything in the first place). but dont you think this is evidence that he does try to get better with speaking up, but he just needs someone to reach their hand out.

the two of you have a unique and intense connection to one another. percys sense of duty combined with your passionate nature, makes both an intriguing and powerful couple.

percy would be attached to you; your energy and he would feel inspired and motivated for bringing out a new side of himself.

at some point, percy stops looking shocked when you scold him for not caring about his feelings and while you go on a rant about how he's so important, he instead has a small smile on his face while hes looking up at you through his bangs.

reader: goes on a rant about percys emotions and how great he really is, not bc of his father but because of the way he truly and deeply cares for people and is even willing to look past past-mistakes

*literally batting his eyelashes because butterflies keep dancing in his stomach but he cant stop staring at you*

annabeth would exchange a knowing-look and smile when you make eye contact with her during one of your speeches, and you feel shy because you're realize that people are staring and PERCY IS STARING WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING so he quickly finish the speech and walk fast out of there.

percy strives to be the best partner he can be.

As Percy begins to gain more confidence and express himself in a more authentic way, he would be more honest and upfront about his feelings, including his feelings for the child of Apollo.

When given the moment to confess, he would seize the opportunity and kiss the child of Apollo with a slightly sheepish smile, perhaps even a tad embarrassed about putting himself out there so directly. However, he would also be proud of his newfound confidence and would look forward to growing and developing this relationship with you....

the type of guy to be entranced by you when you speak for multiple reasons; hes inlove and loves you, he loves the way you speak, he cant stop staring at you face light up when you talk about something you consider worth of value, he cant stop staring at your lips.

i feel like every time you lick your lips during a convo with him or in a group setting, his eyes automatically flicker downwards to stare at them for a good second.

he whips his head around when he hear your voice and turns his body to the direction you are, even when someone is trying to talk to him.

blushing around your affections. this guy would get giddy at night thinking about the fact that you just took a leaf out of his hair or straightened up his shirt.

when you are around his home turf he wants to grab your attention by any means. his favourite thing is if he's able to grab your attention when you're talkign to someone, and makes you stop mid-sentence because of whatever he's doing.

he would strut over to you and you think hes just gonna talk to you like normal but he surges ofrward and give you a peck, and he watches your reaction as when he pulls away. his insecurities are still there but hes getting better.

he likes it especially, another favourite of his, is if he makes you flustered. whether you try to ignore him or you start breathing faster (which he can tell btw) or if you have a certain habit of touching something or somewhere on your body, he likes to pay attention and be attentive to the little things about you. he needs to know everything.

okay, his ALL TIME FAVOURITE, is if you try to suppress that beautiful smile. your mouth twitches, the corners of your eyes crinkle just a tiny bit, you lick you lips and try to pretend that you're cool - but then you let your guard down and let yourself smile.

he absolutely loves it when you look at him after that. your gaze is different from usual. of course, you always look at him in a way that only lovers do, but this look in your eyes is for him and him only. that special look of love and devotion in your eyes is his.

he loves every moment of vulnerability and weakness between the two of you, he likes to savour every moment with you...