#then it's either i talk a lot (i thrive in my passions or when i'm with people i love)

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world! 

playlist 

wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel tlou #lu’s little bookshelf #joel the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #dealer!joel #joel x reader #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel x reader smut #joel miller tlou

[laguezze]

PAC: What's your ideal career path?

(This is for the career oriented people that got absolutely no idea what to do with their lives or have an idea but are so overwhelmed and lost with all the possibilities. I salute y'all bc same)

More piles this time because why not lol

Here are the piles:

Pile 1

Pile 2

Pile 3

Pile 4

Pile 5

Pile 6

Ready? Let's go!

Pile 1

I'm so into you, I can barely breathe ~

👩‍🍳🏖️🩴🍹🚣‍♀️🤝👩‍💼🕴️🧳

There are two subgroups within this pile so I will read them differently right now.

Seems like Group 1 is actually free spirited and out there and independent. You guys don't need anyone and you hate being restrained by boundaries or rules. Thus, I think a career that best suits you is one where no one rules over you but yourself. And of course not a high stress environment. I'm seeing you, group 1 fellows might thrive in a customer service position. Some of you might open your own bar or something, I'm seeing a lot of entrepreneurship here. Do it. Start that business and be happy.

And now onto group 2

For group 2, seems like you guys have some things to work on. You say your dream is to be a hippie by the beach that is free spirited and carefree but you are nothing like that. And that is ok. You're not less cool or more boring or ordinary. You being yourself is already unique, there is nothing to complete in you.

I'm seeing some of you guys are quiet and shy, but actually love people. Wouldn't be hurtful to try out some customer service as well! Weirdly enough I see the same career paths as group 1 for you guys. Entrepreneurship, having your own company, etc.

In general, for both groups I see these:

culinary arts (big on this one), Chef, waiter, bartender, owner of any place that serves food or drink, secretary, CEO, business management, HR worker, meeting mediator, etc

Pile 2

You like my hair? Gee, thanks! Just bought it ~

🎹👮‍♀️⚖️👩‍🔬🔭🔬💅

You guys seem like a bit of an airhead but in a wonderful way. I can't stress how positively I mean that. People seem baffled by the way you act and say things and you surprise them everyday. Seems like you really don't care about who you're talking to, there is no filter or personality switch. You're just you. And it's genuine. And it's enough. You seem to have some issues with people because of that, but also you attract wonderful opportunities as well. Think Elle Woods from Legally Blonde. Big Elle energy for real.

I think you guys might even be in a male dominated industry, which is tough considering your personality, but not impossible. And especially not impossible for you. Absolutely not customer service, though. Some people hate your personality (f them ngl) but your ideal career is probably one where your work speaks for itself and they can't deny your talent.

I see careers such as STEM, law, IT, music, biology, forensics, investigator, nail tech and criminal Justice.

Pile 3

Wrote some songs about Ricky, now I listen and laugh ~

🩰🪩🕺🏠👩‍💼🎭💵🤑😎

You guys are powerful. When you enter a room, people notice you. Which is why you could either do great in the performance arts or in a position of power within an organization. This is so short and straight forward, but so are you so...

Careers I see: dancer, CEO, event planner, actor, real estate agent.

Pile 4

She might've let you hold her hand in school but imma show you how to graduate ~

🏖️🤑🧳✈️🍹🍔🍕👨‍🍳🧥🚣

Ok you guys, this is gonna be a bit straightforward so beware.

A lot of you guys think you're hot s*-#, which you can be but you are not right now. What I mean by that is you seem like the type of person that says: yeah! I'm gonna have a private jet and a thousand cars and blah blah. Very materialistic. But you're not putting in the work at all, you probably don't even know what it is you're passionate about or want to do with your life (which is so valid). You just want to be rich, which honestly I get it, but you need some drive other than "i want a Maserati" you need to want something bigger. You need to be good at something and you don't even know what that something is. And something tells me that you are not even thinking about what that could be. You fantasize about being rich without wondering how to get there. Why do you want that? Status? Relationships? Reevaluate.

That said, I see two types of outcomes. If you put in the effort I'm seeing you can achieve that level of richness you're looking for. Some of you might start a company or climb up an existing one. Some of you might become travel vloggers or influencers.

If you keep doing what you're doing I see you're working at fast food chains (i literally channeled that I'm not gonna lie to y'all) as a manager maybe retail too, that type of jobs.

Careers I see: McDonald's worker, fast food manager, retail worker, makeup store worker (I'm seeing Sephora), mall business owner, souvenir store owner, business owner in general, travel vlogger, boat driver, tourist attraction worker, marketing specialist, hotel worker, hotel owner.

Hope it resonates and my apologies for the bluntness, seemed like the pile wanted to call you out. Maybe you needed it.

Lots of love 💕

Pile 5

I've been here all night, I've been here all day ~

🎤🩰🏡📚🧑‍🍳💐👨‍👩‍👦‍👦

You guys are actually going to be successful. I'm seeing some of you have bigger dreams, some of you have smaller ones (which is cool too!) But all of you will definitely achieve them in some way or another.

I see someone with a family and a big house. Some kids running around. Some of you want to be stay at home partners to a rich person (respect to you guys, every dream is a valid one) and I see you'll get that and be fulfilled. Vacation is a given. You don't struggle with money. None of you guys do.

Some common themes you all have is that your career will allow you to be calm and chill. There are no problems. Money comes easy and secure. And you're living the dream, whichever dream that may be.

A lot of you guys here are here for confirmation of an ideal life you have. Let me say, yes. It's happening. Maybe not in the way you think, maybe not in the amount of success you want it. Or maybe it does fully! But it's happening. I'm seeing some of you might want to act? You'll be an actor and have work but maybe you won't be a big Hollywood star. Or maybe you will!

Some of you may want to be singers. Again, you might not win a Grammy and become Beyonce, but you will work as a singer and it will pay your bills. Like singing at events, hotels, etc. (Or maybe you will win a Grammy! Don't let tarot discourage you from achieving anything! It's just a tool, not a strict rule to follow)

Anyways, you will be whatever it is you want to be.

I know this reading might be confusing but that's what I channelled.

Careers I see: actor/actress, stay at home partner, flight attendant, singer, dancer, librarian, real estate agent, restaurant owner, chef, coffee shop owner, flower shop owner, bakery owner.

Pile 6

A feeling that you can't fight, my one ~

🥖🇫🇷🌍✈️📸

You guys are travelers, no matter what you do you will be up in the air and onto a new place. Kinda chaotic, but you like that.

I'm seeing some of you might work in the fashion industry, models, designers, makeup artists, etc. You all are here gathered. I hear Milan, Paris, London, Fashion Week.

Some of you could just be a flight attendant and that's why you travel so much.

A couple of you might be touring for some reason, you might play in a band or you might sing backup for someone or you might sing yourself or play.

I'm seeing such chaos, though. Like a lot.

Some of you might do film! Or photography! And probably need to relocate for shoots a lot. So cool.

Careers I see: photographer, filmmaker, model, magazine editor, security guard, flight attendant, pilot, makeup artist, wardrobe assistant, set decorator.

The End

#tarot readings #free readings #tarot #tarot blog #pick a card #tarot pick a card #tarot pick a pile #pick a pile #ask game readings #free tarot reading

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Blaine Anderson from Glee vs Barok Van Zieks from The Great Ace Attorney

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. i will block you if you harass others in the notes, please consider sending your unhinged harassment to my inbox instead)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Blaine Anderson:

LOVE: - "you know that post that's like "fandom will call a character evil and immature and then the character is just 15 yo" because that's what happens with blaine. he's just a sweet but socially inept kid with a lot of insecurities who's trying his best. compared to most glee characters he hasn't done anything wrong in his life. and yes he cheated on his boyfriend that one time, but he was super depressed afterwards (also this is glee literally every character has cheated and none have suffered as most as blaine because of it). in conclusion he's just a silly goose. my little princess <3"

HATE: (tumblr will not let me format this one bc its too long)

"A lot of people say he's the male Rachel Berry, and while I think that is absolutely a true statement, I actually don't mind his personality all that much. Literally everyone in Glee has a personality that ranges from inconsistent to downright horrendeus, so instead of talking about what he's like, here's some things he canonically does (buckle up, this'll be long): In season 2, when we first meet him, he's the leader of his school's showchoir. (redflag no.1/j) This gives him the freedom and authoritity to do a lot of stuff- not all bad, but he does serenade a closeted guy he doesn't know all that well, who works in costumer service AT HIS WORKPLACE, with a song about sex toys. (The guy in question ends up getting fired of course). He also gives some pretty hypocritical advice to his love interest, Kurt, about how he should try to blend in (hypocritical, cuz Blaine does the opposite and he's thriving under the attention), and he asks some insesitive questions, but those are all pretty excusable, or at least standard for Glee. In s3, him and Kurt are boyfriends, and he transitions school for him, which we could absolutely count as a decent thing, however it all kinda sours when he gets the part of Tony in the school's production of West side story. Why is this important? Kurt is a senior, and the performing arts university he's applying for is really competitive, so he needs all the extra curriculars and theatre experiance he can get. He asks Blaine to not aidition for Tony- which he agrees to- than promptly goes against that by singing one of Tony's songs at audition. He then gets offfered the role, doesn't turn it down, tells Kurt he should be happy for him, and honestly, BY GLEE STANDARDS, this is also pretty chill. Meanwhile: enter Sebastian Smythe, another contraversial character, who's now the new captain of Blaine's former showchoir, and who decides that either 1. Blaine is hot 2. Gonna use Blaine as an informat (His reasons are unclear tbh) Either way, he starts flirting with Blaine, who does end up rejecting his advances and telling him he's taken (though much later than it's probably ethical, idk tho, I'm aro). He (Blaine) really enjoys the attention though, so they end up keeping in touch. (Important for later.) Back to our main plot though; Blaime doesn't have sexual chemistry with his co-star, so the director tells him to lose his virginity (yes, you heared that right, it is fucked up). So he tries to sleep with Kurt, who of course, doesn't know that his boyfriend's sudden interest in him is due to directoral instructions. And then probably the most contraversial Blaine scene happens- see, Blaine, Kurt, and Sebastian (who Kurt hates with passion) end up going to this gaybar. Blaime gets drunk (though he only drinks one beer on screen, so we don't exactly know how drunk), and tries to sleep with Kurt in the parking lot. Kurt is visibly upset, and tells him no multiple times. Blaime doesn't oblige, and Kurt ends up shouting at him, which Blaine...doesn't take well, and blames Kurt, then leaves by foot. (They end up having sex by the end of this episode btw. No, Kurt still doesn't know about the directoral instructions. Whether he does it out of love or fear that Blaine will leave him is unclear) So we already know these two are not very good at boundries and communication, but the writers say they're "soulmates" so apperantly it's okay? Anyway, this all culminates in cheating incident no.1, where Kurt meets a guy whom he shares similar interests with, and who gives him some very cheesy compliements. They exchange numbers, and text a lot. Blaine doesn't like this. He checks their texts in secret, and then sings a song in front of the entire Glee club about how he's being cheated on, to humiliate Kurt.

Kurt insists it's not cheating, giving the example that Blaine's doing the same/used ro do the same with Sebastian. Blaine says "that's different" and they leave it at that. Kurt apologises via song. S4- Kurt moves to New York. Has to work a lot, since rebt is high, and also gets an internship at vague, so he's quite busy. Blaine feels ignored, so he cheats on him with some guy we only see the facebook profile of. They break up. S5- Blaine has a crush in this other guy, Sam. (He's been trying to get Kurt back, so him moving on is a big deal). Except gay marrige gets legalized, and Blaine decides to propose to Kurt. So he gets back together with him, then bot a week later he arranges a huge public proposal where it'd honestly just be plain emberassing to say no, but dontcha worry, because Kurt accepts. They move to New York together. Blaine becomes insecure, because Kurt gets ripped thanks to his fencing lessons, meanwhile he lrts go of himself a bit, enjoying all the fine food New York has to offer. His reaction to this is to try manipulating/tricking Kurt into eating copious amounts of food too. (To be fair, Kurt's reaction to the situation isn't perfect either, but this is not about him, their actions can co-exist without one of them necessarily having to be "the right one") S6- Kurt breaks up with Blaine. Blaine ends up going back to Ohio, and dating the guy who bullied, non-consensually kissed, than threatened to kill Kurt. (The guy did have a redemption arc, but I still dunno how to feel) You might be wondering- "wow, this was so lpng and extensive", and you'd be right but also this was mostly romantic relationship centric. There's also a lot of stuff Blaine says to his friends that make me question my sanity, but this is Glee, so that's every character in basically every episode. What makes me hate Blaine isn't even JUST all this- it's the fact that in universe, he almost never gets called-out, people take his side, it's as if the writers are condoning his actions, and I Don't Like That. I'm all for liking morally grey, or even morally dispicable characters, as long as their actions don't get excused. Hell, I started out just mildly disliking Blaine, but a lot of people paint him as innocent and pure, and that didn't feel right. Then I was ready to like him BECUASE of his questionable morality- but turns out, the guy doean't have much else going on besides this. His personality is almost the same as Rachel, except Rachel's more...full? If that makes sense? Blaine is just...bland. And inconsistent, and boring, and I just Do Not Like Him At All."

Baron Van Zieks:

LOVE: - "man's 6'4", british, looks like a vampire, took a mental health break for 5 years thanks to the dead bodies that cropped up after he lost in court, and is uhhhhhh kinda racist which is a key part of his character. the explanation for it is divisive but he does grow as a character eventually?? i think he's fun. there's a bonus case exclusive to the 3DS version of the games where he mentions he was almost poisoned in one of the first cases he ever handled. he objects with his leg. he brings wine into court but rarely drinks it. he has bats in his office. we have no idea where the scar on his face came from. his voice actor did a subway commercial. i think he wants to believe he is the sane one in the courtroom but that title belongs to the 16 year old judicial assistant for the defense." - "I love to hate him tbh!!! He's a complex interesting character tied up in things outside of his control and being used by the antagonist to hurt people, isolated due to his grief and rumors from the public. He also sucks SO fucking bad and I want to punch him. Lovingly. But I love him I promise."

#poll #round 2 #barok van zieks #blaine anderson #ace attorney #the great ace attorney #glee #2 submissions

[eggsaladsandwhic]

Vash Headcannons (SFW and NSFW)

Follow my previous posts about the Poly Knives x OC x Vash CollegeAU fic I'm doing so here's some ideas I gotta dump.

SFW/General

Ecology Major vibes, is also getting an Ethics minor

Hates chemistry with a burning passion

Makes a lot of friends, but only hangs out with a few so he doesn't overwhelm himself

Nurodivergent Vash!

(He/They)! Or (They/them) either works

Doing a stem degree while having ADHD and anxiety sucks so much but Vash thrives in it somehow

College has really been flaring up his plant traits lately, has to call Rem or talk to Nai on the weekly for help (Though Nai just keeps telling him to stop repressing it)

Has to wear long sleeves or hoodie a lot to cover up the feathering leaves that pop out.

Vash doesn't realize it but it's anxiety that's causing it, but Nai started lending him some compression shirts and so it's gotten better

BUFF DADBOD VASH (this idea possess me)

He's gotten better with dealing with stress and no longer resorts to starving himself

GOES TO THERAPY(one of these twins gotta do it)

Between Nai's cooking, drinking on the weekends, and the amount of donuts this dude can eat he's living his best life

Works out when he gets the time and bowls competitively

Wants a significant other (Mates for life) but it's so hard, especially when starts thinking about the fact he's not human

Has a fear of having someone he really loves and then them finding out he's a plant and reacting negatively. Vash thinks Nai and him would likely have to move back to the facility with Rem. He doesn't want to uproot the lifestyle him and his brother have

Gets a little depressed about it, but is really good with having a support group on standby

Gets hit on at bars a lot but it always flys over his head or they're too pushy about it.

Wolfwood sets him up with dates once in a blue moon but it goes horrible or the girls just don't like him for more than his looks

Physical touch is this man's love language and he just wants someone he can lean on

Add someone who likes doing domestic activities?? Y'all are going to the courthouse next week

Wants to just curl up next to someone even platonically at this point

Has an agreement with Nai sometimes that they sleep in the same bed like when they were kids (Nai always grumbles about it but sleeps better that night anyway)

Nsfw Below 👇

OH SHIT OH FUCK

(NSFW)

So I did some research today and did y'all know that wild purple geraniums have a tendency to be Hermaphrodites

YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

Vash is a dual package (living the dream ong)

Plantussy and Plantdick combo meal

So I imagine that his dick would sit above his vulva and vagina? Testes would likely be internal (genuinely trying to form an anatomy basis I'm actually looking at a diagram rn)

As for his female organs I'd say he consented to a hysterectomy because it was causing growth issues (post op sucked but he figured it out)

Took testosterone for awhile until everything was functional

Became a lot more sexually comfortable with himself after this

6.5in prehensile tentacle dick, bumpy rounded ridges on the sides and little more on the girthy end

Has more of those downy soft petals that unfold during sex, and dick likely has a sheath because it's more fleshy (kinda like the inside of your mouth)

Hyperspremia and leaves a mess everytime he jerks off, squirts a lot too (probably got a dedicated bath towel at this point)

He has fucked himself with his own dick and usually prefers to

Owns quite a few sex toys and likes to experiment around a little bit

Goes from a Fleshlight, a regular dildo, has a couple fantasy ones, and anal and prostate toys

High sex drive, but can cum pretty quick (short recovery period, usually goes 3 rounds but can do more)

Rut is 10x worse too you'd be lucky to make it to the fridge

Makes sperm plugs during rut

SWITCH VASH(still a virgin though)

Desperate sex kinda guy, gets pussy drunk or cock dumb so easily, folds like a chair no matter what

Make him unfurl his wings out it means he trusts you so much

Please go down on him and absolutely devour him

Very sweet though and would definitely check in a lot (check in with him too it makes him feel fuzzy)

Has a sex awareness to not hurting you accidentally, during rut he's very nervous about it

Aftercare King (loves to shower or take a bath after)

More of a hickey giver than a biter

Usual kinks: Breeding, Pegging, Overstimulation, Cum play, cockwarming, Oral, Praise, Hair-pulling

Unusual: Blindfolding, Shibari(both ways around), Begging, wants to be degraded a little bit

Jesus my brain went wild there, I was doing research for some of this shit. Was supposed to be doing Geochemistry homework but this happened ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯. Anyways gn y'all I got a 9am.

#trigun stampede #trigun smut #vash the stampede #vash x reader #vash headcanons #millions knives #vash smut #vash x you #vash is babygirl #trigun au #trigun vash

[femmefatalevibe]

Hello!

Hope you’re doing great today.

How do you become your best self- like operating in your full Potential? There’s a girl I know of who’s super popular on campus and she’s great: a model, may be doing pageants one day (I encouraged her), and is super smart. Recently on IG I saw she’s at Harvard Business school studying and she has a major in Political science.

I’m an English major - couldn’t attach myself to any legal studies because it wasn’t for me and I get insulted by family that I should be doing something other than English (they look down on the major).

So I find myself comparing myself to her because I am trying to do different clubs, and speak up and be all that I can be. But I’m not seeing anything changing for me.

I get over looked a lot, and it’s a new school for me (I’m a transfer student) so that’s added.

And I’m so lost.

I often looked down on my degree, I do believe I should be a speaker or go to galas and study things that holds influence. To be a woman of change but I don’t see that. I haven’t gotten any scholarships for holding events for clubs, nor do I get recognized.

I feel like I’m not doing enough and I feel inadequate in my abilities (I literally took a creative writing class with fifteen other poets for a special class and the Professor would constantly nit pick at my writing and say I have to revise - and the other students would be praised for their writing. And I actually thought I was a great poet til that happened. And he’s a poet himself, and well known so that hurt. And was embarrassing cause my peers weren’t helpful or encouraging either. They would just stare at me while he critiqued my work).

Not sure who I should be.

I’m not even good at the things I thought I was good at.

But when looking at my acquaintance- I see such great things going to happen for her in her future (all well deserved).

Hi love! You sound like you're doing great for someone in university, honestly. Most people, especially at that age, do not take the time or energy required to self-reflect and think critically about how they can improve/ thrive in their environment instead of blaming external circumstances for any obstacles they face. You sound very emotionally mature, which I'm sure will take you far. Having so much uncertainty and little support is so difficult, so know that your feelings are valid regarding why you feel uncertain and like you're losing time in this current moment.

While it is easier said than done, comparing yourself to others is a waste of the time and energy you can be spending on ideas, hobbies, and activities that make you happy/help you reach your goals. Please know that people putting you down for being an English major is very closed-minded. There are so many career paths you can pursue with an English degree (signed someone who almost did one, lol) – copywriting, PR, social media/content strategy & creation, UX & technical writing, broadcast journalism, reporter, editor, screenwriting, etc. Also, he is one poet – that is an opinion, not a general consensus. He might be a professional and have considerable skills under his belt, but that does not make his words gospel. Writing quality can be fairly subjective. However, the way he singled you out is awful – I would talk to an advisor about this unprofessional behavior.

The best things you can do in a situation like this are three-fold:

Focus on taking care of yourself. Block out what others, especially critics, think or say about any choices you're making that don't hurt anyone else. Try to establish some healthy routines (meals, walks, workouts, studying, skincare, reading, etc.) to feel more in control of your day-to-day life

Sit down and reflect on the activities that give you energy, what you're passionate about, and the goals that you would most like to achieve in the few years after university and the immediate ones while you're still on campus. For example, it sounds like you're interested in writing, public speaking, and fancy events. Find resources to get good at these skills and ways to get yourself in your desired work environment (internships, temp service work for special events, etc.) Maybe consider potential career paths like PR or speech writing. Consider creative outlets like making a podcast, TikTok, or Youtube videos.

Make it a priority to develop confidence in yourself and an unwavering sense of self-trust. I feel like an old lady saying this, but you're so young and have so much time to figure it out. Everyone has different histories, traumas, resources, and advantages/disadvantages in this life. Spending time ruminating over those of others and comparing notes is taking away the energy and creativity you need to pour into constructing your own life and identity.

Hope this helps xx

#femmefatalevibe #college student #college advice #career advice #career path #life skills #student life #life path #life lessons #life advice #career tips #self confidence #self concept #q/a #goal setting #healthyhabits #self esteem

[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Tidbits about the lepom pokémon boys✨️

Just some little things to know about our fav legendary boys, Papyrus and Sans! You can read their home and backstory here!

The pair of brothers are both psychic types, but I'm not entirely sure about their secondary typing. For sans I'm thinking either psychic/normal or psychic/dragon, and for papyrus either psychic/fire or psychic/fighting. The size of their true forms is somewhat small for a legendary, more akin to the size of Latios and Latias: person sized! Actually these two seem to have inspired the boys’ designs in my mind: not too big, somewhat friendly but definitely not an average pokemon!

Interestingly enough, if anyone describes the boys’ human form, the description will always be focused on their personalities and some rough descriptions of their appearance at best. People remember Papyrus being tall and loud, that's for sure! And Sans is definitely a lot smaller! A laid-back dude!  Oh what did he wear yesterday? Good question!  …I don’t remember… … Skin color? Oh yeah he sure had one… Hmmm…  Anyway yesterday Sans pranked the candy store owner with a whoopee cushion??!?-

Papyrus would love to help people train their pokémon! He adores the bond between trainers and their pokémon, and thrives off of their passion and determination! People would ask him about his team when he offers though, and that just gets them a fidgety “oh would you look at the time! It sure seems evident that I am needed to help with market preparations! But perhaps we’ll spar! Next time!”. Then he does an impressive leap into an open window of a random house and he’s gone. What a guy. You can also ask him to help you prepare for beauty contests. He has a very good eye for those, and although his choices are… non-standard, they have a 80% chance of actually being really, really good.

Sans doesn't really care for or about battling, but if you ask him about beauty contests he’ll at least humor you by joining you for prep time. His suggestions are ridiculous and none of it is helpful. He does seem to be enjoying himself though, and if he’s tired enough you can use props and make-up on him to make him look silly “to match his attitude :p”. If anything, prepping with him does make you and your team far less nervous. No judge could ever give you feedback that's more outta left field or ridiculous than he and his brother can, so you can handle anything now!

Papyrus definitely still gets lovingly attacked by dog pokémon all the time. He’s a magnet for them, they love him! His reaction can be best described as “exit, pursued by bear dog”. I mean it doesn't always happen, but they do like to mess with him, so it is also often times the other way around. Don’t try and keep an important conversation with him when there's dog pokémon nearby, because you will be interrupted!

Sans will tell you what your pokémon are thinking/saying unprompted. This tends to feel like he’s doing a bit, but he’s always telling the truth, or at least a half-truth. The bit is that he’s not doing a bit. What a funny guy!

Papyrus' cooking is in an odd position here: if there's a person to supervise and give advice, Papyrus can actually make a few really tasty dishes! However if left alone he doesn't really realize the way certain appliances work, and might experiment with ingredients that only certain pokemon or humans can eat, like uncooked wheat! Or pokemon berries! Or rocks! He’s personally not the biggest fan of rocks, but he has friends who love them! Sans absolutely does not count as supervision by the way. He doesn’t care what is made as long as his bro is happy, and if the kitchen is burned down in the process he’ll probably sleep through it anyway. 

Despite him having the personality of a “dude who has a little truck he hangs out the window from to talk to u”, the only thing people actually see Sans drive are the tricycles he “borrows” from the town kids. Does he do it to entertain them or does he genuinely think they're fun? Hard to tell. The teens in town like to point at silly cars and other vehicles they see and tell each other it's his. He thinks it's hilarious and definitely plays into it.

Sans is the kind of guy who will walk you home at night if you work late shifts, and Papyrus will princess carry you if you are injured, even if it's just a scraped knee. In both cases, enjoy the view!

Most of their rare time away from any people or pokémon is spent either protecting everyone from an evil team or from agitated pokémon from the mountain. The latter tend to be ghost pokémon and pokémon living in harsh conditions, so no one really blames them for being irritable. These pokémon have been acting up far less the past few weeks though. Perhaps something happened?

#papyrus x reader #sans x reader #Sans walking you home? Papyrus princess carrying you? Prime time for romance me thinks~ #one day I’ll try more actual scenes and fics but for now its just info and tidbits #undertale au #lepom au #Legendary pokémonsters au #lepom Sans #lepom Papyrus #Tidbits #Tidbits about the og!boys #homemade fanworks #lepom papyrus x reader #lepom sans x reader

[yogoodfella]

ARC-V Month Day 10: Take Five! ...Or Ten!

@arcvmonth

I'll get my Day 9 prompt whenever I feel like it. I'm struggling to find a favorite moment.

What I want to talk about in this free day is... You peeps.

When I came here, it was like I've found a hidden corner of the internet in which I found... ARC-V fans that like... More or less everything about the show? That didn't find Z-ARC or Ray appalling? That loved Yuya with all their heart?

All the vibes were just... Positive. I have a lot of criticism towards the show, admittedly... And a ton of frustrations. But seeing all this positivity felt fascinating, even if sometimes, in archives here, it resulted in people being overly defensive. (Things of the past, mostly.)

In this place, everyone seemed to share in that positivity. And then I understood why and I felt stupid.

Of course! These are ARC-V fans after all! The ones who've either stuck it out for these years after likely enduring the critics of the more general fandom, or ones who had dodged the whole wave entirely and went to enjoy the series later.

But they all seemed to have one thing in common: ARC-V got through a piece of your lives, mostly childhoods or troubled adolescences. You all related to Yuya so goshdarn much because you see much more in him than most people did back then. I guess teenager troubles, struggling to stand out, and a promise of a future with a smile is... Enough for people to keep going forward.

Unfortunately, I can't say I relate.

I mean... I'm in my twenties now, and I only looked into this show last year because some cute musical fairies were in it. I've had a relatively tranquil adolescence, and I live a tranquil life. I've only gotten to Tumblr 2 months ago or so. In a way, I feel a bit like an outcast at times.

But that's what makes this so fun. It's something I've never experienced before, finding a corner of a contentious show in which... People only want to see everything about it thrive, despite its acknowledged shortcomings. Even if there's something discussed that I personally don't feel happy about... I just can't help but smile when I see you guys.

And this ARC-V Month only confirmed it.

It's all so vibrant, and everyone got together in some way, shape or form! It's really amazing to see such a work result in so much! And what brought you here is your creativity and your passion. I'm glad this event was created. I truly am.

So, all of you... Keep being yourselves, and take care of yourselves. You're great as you are!

TLDR:

Y'all are weirdos

(And I love y'all for it!)

#arcvmonth2023 #arcvmonth #yugioh #yugioh arc v #arc v

[h0m0phobia-is-gay]

Okay, so following my last post concerning Sawtober Day 7 (which is "Voyeur") I wanted to do just a small rant about the lyrics that I put that are from My Chemical Romance's (2001) The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You. Even though I've been leaning more into metal, I still love the lyrics and for the prompts, I like to assign a single lyric and this one i felt fit really well. Generally, I think this song fits Adam especially in some particular lines but we won't be talking about that today because my main focus is his love of photography.

Don't know if everyone knows, but a lot of work goes into editing photos and it isn't always as simple as people say. Capturing the photo itself and making it appealing is just as difficult! Adam's job isn't so intense and mostly relies on him going to the right places and being sneaky enough to stay unnoticed but I like to think that he's taken more professional or even hobbyist roles for photographs. Hell, I like to believe he went to art school for visuals but then dropped out from lack of funds and uninerest. But just because school wasn't right for him didn't mean photography wasn't.

In Adam's photos, he likes to take what's in front of him and make it something more. A camera doesn't lie because it shows you what's right before you, as he states himself in the first Saw film. So, taking that knowledge; the line "It gives the blind sight", in a way he's revealing something to his viewer.

In one piece of the original script, it's discussed that Detective Tapp finds Adam via a friend who wanted to know if his wife was cheating on him (forgot if they ever find out). So let's use that to apply this. Through his photographic evidence of whether his wife is or isn't cheating, he is giving her husband sight. Maybe the husband was in denial of their failing relationship or he just wanted to see it himself. Regardless, his blindness was cured when he saw the photos. He could see his wife and see their relationship for what it was; either thriving or failing.

Adam's a naturally blunt man, inclined to give you what you need and photos are the perfect muse. They're direct and up front, so whether you want more from it is all for your interpretation. For Adam, it's a simple way to give sight.

I have so much more I could rant about with photography and how passionate Adam is about it, but that'd take a long time, so I'll conclude here. No one's gonna read this anyway, but if you did, great job you got to the end 👍

I'm totally overanalyzing this but thanks for coming to my TedTalk, have a great day and stay stunning whoever you are !! <3

#asher the rat ?! #saw #saw 2004 #adam stanheight #lawrence gordon #saw rant

[taichouu]

FELLOW BIRDLIKER!! if ur cool with just random misc asks.. do you have any fun birds you really wanna talk about but never get the chance to? ones nobody really asks about? underrated bird spotlight, perhaps? 👀

Of course I'm ALWAYS cool with random misc asks. Always! I love interaction 🫡

Hm ... I've actually been thinking about this ask for a few days (I apologize for being so late to respond, but I wanted to answer it with my full attention!), and there's so many birds I've talked about here. Shoebills, condors, cockatoos, toucans, owls etc. It's hard to pick a bird I like that I haven't talked much about.

I'm sure people have heard about these types of birds before, but several species of Kite (a hawk/raptor type bird) that live in sub desert savanah climates actually have been reported to use fire to hunt. I read a couple of interesting articles about them recently, so they've been on my mind. I luckily got to study kites for a brief time when I was researching in Australia a few years ago (never saw any of them spread a wildfire though. Sad </3)

It's not a common behavior but it's been recorded that several species of raptor will steal fire from a campfire and start prairie/grassland fires to have an abundance of prey. They either pick off the ones trying to flee or they end up just eating the remains of one's that couldn't. It's SO fascinating that they learned how to do that from US!

Several aboriginal communities used to be able to hunt by controlled fires (and in a lot of cases, the landscape has been moulded from and thrives off of controlled burning), but the government in Australia is incredibly neglectful of it due to the extreme misunderstanding of how beneficial fire actually is to landscapes. It's a WHOLE can of worms and its something I'm actually quite passionate about, but i won't write a book on here about it ;;

Edit: had to fix my links </3

Basic "Firehawks" article

Paper on fire ecology / pyrogeography!

#tai talks #anonymous #anyways!! hi! :) #i kind of went on a long tangent ... i hope i didnt spook you! #bird brain #(thats my bird tag if youre interested in seeing more bird stuff from me!) #i think i usually put my bird talk stuff in there... if not maybe ill try to re tag some talks this weekend <:)

[rainbowsky]

Hi! I was wondering if you know of any discords/groupchats for bxgs? For people like me who don’t post or hold bjyx accounts, I feel like it’s really difficult to really get into the fandom and find fellow turtles to talk to. We all get excited when we find candies or want to rant about a particular behind the scenes moment etc and i feel like something like a discord would really bring people together and create a community of people to talk to each other.

I was wondering if you know of anything like that? Or would you be willing to create something like that where the fandom could join?

Sorry if this sounds rude or presumptuous or anything, I was just wondering. Thanks!

Hi Anon,

There's no harm in asking an honest question, so no worries. 😊

I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you, though...

I can't in good conscience recommend Discord. I don't think there's ever been a more appropriately named platform. If you and others enjoy it, please continue to, but it's just not my cup of tea.

Discord (like Twitter) is a platform that thrives on speed and immediacy, not accuracy or analysis, so platforms like that have a tendency to reward, push and perpetuate misleading and inaccurate information. Once an incorrect idea catches fire on a platform like that, it's impossible to correct it.

Those platforms stick to short, quick little bites, when my preference is for slower, deeper analysis and discussion.

These fast-paced platforms also often thrive on friction as a catalyst for more intense, more passionate (and more adversarial), engagement. In my experience, which I recognize isn't data but is just my own personal situation, Discord servers often become very toxic and gossipy, and are often used as HQ for harassing people on other platforms (in fact, I suspect some of the worst toxic solos organize there). I've been a member of many Discord groups over the years, mostly gaming related but also on other topics, and unless they are exceptionally well managed and heavily moderated (which only generally happens with the very large groups), they can become vectors of hate.

As I've said in the past, the nature of these platforms makes it more difficult to curate at times (especially Discord), and makes it much more likely that people will be exposed to aspects of the fandom that clash with their own views and values. It can also tend to exaggerate elements of the fandom that thrive in those types of environments. This can lead to conflict, and to people getting a distorted perspective on what the fandom is about and where most fans are coming from.

It’s usually pretty chaotic and fast-paced, and can feel like drinking through a firehose. I often find that type of setting overwhelming.

This is just my take on things. I recognize it's not my type of platform and it doesn't accommodate or encourage the kind of engagement with fandom that I enjoy, so my perspective is entirely subjective based on that.

No judgment to those who enjoy it. I have some good friends who spend a lot of time on BXG Discord.

If you are looking for more people to talk to I can understand your desire to find a chat server. I don't have any to recommend.

But I will say, don't be afraid to engage with people here, either. People do have great connections and conversations here on Tumblr, whether in the comments of posts, via reblogs or through private messaging. I've made some great friends here just using the tools that Tumblr provides, and I'm not a naturally 'ultra social' person.

Sorry I couldn't be of more help.

#bxg perspectives #fandom reflections #ask

[edvinception]

I just love how passionated and happy Edvin is when he talks about acting. Also loved that when he was asked about directors he would want to work with in the future he said Rodja (among others) ❤ Feel like he learned and evolved a lot as an actor working with her. She created this environment were they were allowed to be creative and to improvise, and he's said before that he learned how to use his intuition as an acting tool when they filmed yr s1 - I think this style of acting really suits him! I'll say it once again, I want a long, in deepth interview where he just talks about acting and movies ect; I crave it so fucking bad.

Yes! I couldn't agree more, anon.

His passion and drive to always improve is one of my favourite things about him.

He's grown up in the industry and it feels like he's soaked up every bit of knowledge from all the people he's met. He's still so young and hungry to learn more and I love how much joy he has in his voice when he talks acting.

It really warmed my heart when he spoke about Rojda and the other crew members. It seems like everyone has created such a safe environment for everyone which is so nice since many of them are new to acting.

And it obviously makes it possible for Edvin to branch out more and challenge himself.

I would love to have a long sit down interview where he talks acting and acting only. What inspired him, what challenges him and what his process is like approaching different roles. Sadly it's so rare these days and every interview always end up the same and I'm tired of hearing about his instagram account growing.

Give me depth! Either way I can't wait for what's next in line for him. No matter what I think he'll continue to thrive.

I hope he'll continue to work in Sweden and Scandinavia for a while because there are so many talented people in the industry I'd want him to work with. I know he mentioned wanting to do more movies since he's done quite alot of tv series in recent years so I hope that's something he has in the pipeline.

💙

#edvin ryding #ask

[redjadethewriter]

The "Queen of Strategy": How to speak stealthily about inappropriate things?

My game tag is RedJade_Queen, and I don't take that title lightly. Some assume I'm a princess and ask why I don't use Princess instead. I even use Korpse Queen as another title.

Peeps, I'm no princess by any means. I'm no King, either. A King is nothing without its Queen, and I'm not putting that lightly. A queen is tactful in persuasion, using charm and social skills, understanding specific actions, words, and behaviors, and utilizing them to melt the masses. But I'm not referring to the royalness of it, but what it requires to win, survive or thrive. I use strategy in games since I lack skills. The better term, I'm dyslexic with a controller. I even have the motto of being a "Runner, not a fighter," and I do stick to brand. I am the coward who eventually wins by setting aside my ego and arrogance and surviving to fight another day tactic. I have no upstanding pride, and I'm shameless as a demon from the darkest pits of hell when I need to be. There's also a reason why I'm called a Strawberry Thigd Demon by some people, in the best way possible. I use that title for other things as well.

But back to my title as the "Queen of Strategy."

I let my curse of a mind, meaning my racing thoughts, work to my benefit. Within seconds, I can think of several scenarios, and if I can't figure it out, I'll dream of it at night. Eventually, a solution will arise. The curse is that I lose sleep over almost anything I'm determined to figure out and resolve. Basically, I never stop thinking.

How does that translate to my life?

Oh my gosh, I'm a stealth troublemaker.

I will share the best example of how I got my coworkers and me to safely discuss our illicit escapades without getting caught by management. Since a lot of us shared an interest in women, I'll just mention it again, I'm an out and proud Lesbian, and we wanted to be able to discuss our pussy-escapades without anyone noticing that's what we were talking about. If we spoke in hush-hush, it would cause suspicion, so we had to be able to speak in a normal tone even with customers around. So, I devised code words that correlated to what we wanted to discuss. Therefore, for those of us who liked pussy, the word for that was vegetables. And the rating, whether it was good or not, and if it was excellent, they would say," I had some grade-A vegetables." And if it wasn't good, " Damn, them vegetables I had last night... was expired as hell."

For those who like "dick," there were code words for that as well. "I had me some grade-A sausage last night." or "Limp Hot Dog." Get what I'm saying. We devised a stealth system to discuss inappropriate things while on the clock.

Because many of us enjoyed "vegetables," management thought we were all trying to get healthy since we passionately discussed it. Some even thought we were turning vegetarian. I would say to myself, "More like a vagitarian."

Believe me, it was hilarious because it was only the department I worked in that got away with being sexual deviants. But eventually, friends in the other departments caught on, and soon enough, many of us would talk about vegetables.

This became a trend for a while, and it worked.

I'm going to be honest. The younger generation is so adorable in how open they are in expressing their interests in someone. I want to continue to contribute to creating a more accepting environment for individuals to be themselves. To be able to express freely who they like. Even though I created a way to discuss things we enjoy, I wanted to make sure whoever spoke to me felt safe enough to express what they liked. That's how I learned there are so many women out there who are not upfront about their sexuality and are still oppressed by society.

However, I have faith that things will improve as the world stops thinking rigidly and when the system finally breaks. Then, people won't have to hide. Until then, you can use code words like I did with my coworkers, but in society if you want to avoid strangers understanding what you're talking about publicly.

I'm gonna say it again... I'm a shameless demon, but I'm a tactful one.

#lgbt author #life blogging #lgbtq community #using code words to discuss inappropriate things

[ilovejoyjessie]

Hidden Figures #2 (Perre's Ventaglio III by Beverly Pepper) || III.

I haven't quite fit into a clear Artist Box from the time I found my voice to now:

Yes to my work falling in a Contemporary or Conceptual box via the deep-rooted themes and visual storytelling my pieces possesses....but sometimes those themes are delivered in ways that seem too provocative for some Contemporary art circles...

So, yes to some of my work fitting in an er0tic or sensual art box....but those sensual sides of my projects, the baring of my body, aren't the only goal or initial intention...

And, yes to using a platform that allows me to show my work uncensored when it's called for....but no to that meaning that my work must be all s3xual in nature...

So, yes to my pieces kind of fitting into artist"ic" or Fashion boxes...but no to them being viewed or understood without question as an artist of a particular school or genre; no to my fashion-driven works being editorial (Because Calvin Klein can show a little skin, but I - an artsy nobody - doing it is a little too much).

Yes to being the subject in my works, usually captured by others....but also yes to being a subject under my own creative direction for my work. So, yes to being an artist with agency that shares ownership of my pieces as much as my collaborators in some circles...but also no to owning it, no to creating my art the "proper way", no to being anything more to my work than a model prop in other circles.

.

Meanwhile, as I exist as a female human in the world, to whom I belong must also be boxed for fussy family members, well-meaning acquaintances, and nosy-ass government forms: "Single and thriving", "Single so miserable", "Single so probs for the streets"..."Still in that relationship, must means she loves it", "Unhappy in that relationship? Don't love herself enough to leave."

And the broad boxes we love to put women in only get smaller when you also happen to be one who sometimes reveals her body in certain, specific ways, says or identifies with certain things, and has certain proclivities. Romantic potentials salivate at the thought of getting to handle me the way they "know" women in the box they assume I'm in like to be handled - that is, when they aren't tossing me aside based on the label they see affixed to me:

"The type of girl who shows her body that way? I know she's DTF. If she's reaching out to get to know me, she either wants me, hopes I'll do her...ugh, or wants to sell me something."

"Oh she's got a submissive side, huh? Finally - a girl I can tell what to do and not expect any pushback. I just do my thing, talk to her when and how I want and she'll just deal with it? The dream."

"'You want to hear from me between our hang outs because it 'lets you know I actually dig you instead of just making you feel like I only hit you up when I feel like it?' I don't know man, sounds needy. Oh, 'It's important for you to express your needs because communication is a priority for you?' Well, I don't really talk a lot to anybody...and sounds kind of high-maintenance, tbh."

.

And in the meantime, to that Regional Seattleite Box:

Yes young, yes liberally educated, yes progressive....but doesn't often wear things like my sexuality and social views on my sleeve

Yes to being passionate about causes that matter to me....but no to the immediate indictment of those who act differently and no to dedicating myself to those causes until a time when its inconvenient to do so arises...

Yes to revisiting my favorite places....but no to remaining consistently within the same limited block radius of my home with the same 3 people I've been revisiting places with for years...

Yes to being friendly and open to forming new relationships....but no to avoiding necessary confrontations; yes to being honest over seeming nice (though I do remain working my People Pleasers Anonymous program).

And underpinning it all, as a 31 year old in the Millennial Box:

Yes to seeming like I'm doing my best to find a place and way that aligns with me in a broken world like many of us do....but also yes to admittedly being plagued excessively by existential crises and the questioning of my own existence for most of my life

Yes to having friends....but also no to keeping around those that do not serve or show up for me; no to settling for numerous acquaintances I don't feel like I can actually count on

Yes to being open to new experiences and people; but no to making loose plans of "Sure!" or "Maybe" when I really mean "Nah" or "Probably not"

Yes to love...but no to it being free; no to accepting the idea that any casual relationship, platonic or otherwise, are just "the way things are now"

...and no to wanting and adjusting easily to new tech distractions that say they make life easier and fun but do they really? Do they?

.

And don't even get me started on the Black Woman Box..

#Hidden Figures #contemporary art #female artists #seattle artist #sculpture art #composition #Beverly Pepper #art blog #portrait #i'm just a girl #woman portrait #spicy accountant #body hair #power dynamics #existential dread #black artist #Perres Ventaglio #photo composition #portrait photography

[yukikorogashi]

-puts on shades to hide my identity- I admit, there are times that I really worry about you and your health. I only want the best for you, and seeing you work so much and so hard makes me proud yet concerned. ONLY BECAUSE I LOVE YOU THOUGH, because I want you to thrive but want you to rest too, you deserve so much and more considering what you go through and have already been through. You're so sweet, still spending time and energy to make others smile and laugh when there are times you probably need it most of all. I only hope that we can do fulfill this for you, to give you the energy and good vibes you need to keep going, but you can always fall to us if you're struggling. I may be half across the world but THAT WON'T STOP MEEEE. Either way, I love you sooooooo MUCH, your creativity and energy is so contagious, I love talking and writing with you. Such a lovely, fun, kind, determined person that deserves the entire world. -HUGS AND KISSES-

ANONYMOUSLY TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ABOUT ME. I CAN’T REPLY, JUST PUBLISH.

Blast me eyes, for those sunglasses made it near impossible for me to identify you! But I was determined to find out who these kind words belonged to sooooo... SMOL, of course it was you! 😭❤️💕

But aaaahhhh I appreciate your concern so, so much, Smol, I truly do! 💕❤️ Reading all of this (Several times now) made me actually place my hands over my own heart like 🥺. And I'm so sorry for worrying you though, because I know I tend to post a lot about how I keep getting my ass kicked by my health problems and how I am just, terrible at taking care of myself (But lord I try, I promise you this 😭). All of this means so much to me, that I simply can't express my gratitude enough enough when it comes to just knowing you and having you in my life. 🥺

But gaaahh thank you, THANK YOU. Thank you for just being such a wonderful, loving and supportive friend, all the time. You are always such a warm ray of sunshine, and I think I have boofed a few iterations of this by now-- but gosh, you just never stop shining, and that always leaves me in such awe and wonder about you and just how wonderful you are. ;u; And omg I'm so glad I can make you and others laugh and smile like??? Gaaah I'm so so glad to hear my silly posts and stuff are able to do just that. It makes me so happy to hear that we can all share in on the laughter like this. ❤️

You have already done so much for me, just by being my friend, Smol. ❤️ Thank you so, so much for always having my back. For always being so ready to help me get back up or keep me on my feet before they even have a chance of giving out. You do so much, you really do. You have so much love and kindness in your heart, and I'm so lucky I'm one of those that gets to be blessed with so much of it.

I love you so, SO MUCH TOO, okay? AND NAH, something as trivial as us living on opposite sides of the planet ain't gonna stop us! uwu I BET-- if we lived on different planets right now, that wouldn't stop us either SO auwheauwhe!!! But yes, all of this right back at you, m'darlin'! Your energy, creativity, passion, enthusiasm are all so splendiferously contagious, that it surely leaves anyone that interacts with you or just sees you smiling like a dum dum, like I'm doing right now!

I LOVE getting to learn about all of your muses and getting to write with them! Why, just the other day, when you were teaching me more about Suletta and sharing things that you love about her? It was such a joy, and I was so happy to learn more about her whilst we did some light plotting (AND NOW OUR SPACE BBIES ARE GONNA BE FRIENDS WHOO WHOO!!!)!

And you deserve the world too, okay? 🥺❤️

MUACKS YOU AND JUST... HUGS ONTO YOU FOR A LITTLE WHILE LONGER WHILE I STILL CAN... ❤️💕

@wxtchpilot ❤️💕

#wxtchpilot #❄️ THE SWEETEST THING ❄️ #❄️ QUEUE ❄️

[ihatebnha]

“i could talk abt dilf denki for five billion hours” the people need to hear it <3

I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK, okay, listen, okay??? LISTEN (please... i mean).

I have such a specific image of dilf!Denki in my head, and I literally adore him so much because I feel like it really allows for a lot more exploration of characterization (and maturity) than we're given at this point in the show, SO...:

I like to think that Denki... spends the first ten or so years of his pro hero career serial dating. I definitely think he's loyal ASF but in my opinion, people really ignore the fact that he's friends with Mineta (and that they have similar interests) more than they should. Not that this is bad, but... it's interesting to me because it sorta implies he is... a WHORE.

Anyway... honestly idek what the hell I'm talking about because it's not THAT complex, but. Denki has fun serial dating people because he really thrives off the attention he gets from his job, like it's a total BONUS for him, right?

But there comes a point when that's just not hitting the same way it used to. You know, I think he watches all his friends start getting married, and when he was younger watching people couple up was great, but now that he's going to weddings and baby showers and stuff... he realizes he doesn't have that, and/or if he does, he's not like... with-with someone enough for it to really count.

Being that he's Denki, he hadn't like, planned ahead enough to realize that he'd actually wanna settle down with someone, he just thought it would eventually... come, and so far... it just HASN'T.

So he enters this period where... he's really experienced and charming but... has no real gauge for relationships at all... and moves WAY too fast or wayyy too slow... but he's trying, you know? So, so hard... and so even though he's all grown and mature and passionate about hero work now... part of him is still silly ol' Denki who gets flustered trying to impress you because he just wants something good to finally last </333

Also, I think this AU could go either way... because I can see him with kids but I can also see him without. I love, love, LOVE single dad Denki who's kid really brightens him up and helps him to talk to you, but I also love bachelor Denki who is hot shit but doesn't act like it LOLLLL.

Like, who knows HOW you meet him, but... here's this notorious playboy hero... dropping his wallet trying to pay for your coffee. Bringing you a pink bear and balloons on valentines day. Getting his fingers stuck in the window of your car when he tries to say hello. PRETENDING to be bad at sex so you don't think he's cheating.

It's just so... head in hands to me. Idiot who works his butt off trying to prove himself... MY CUP OF TEA. Goddamn.

(Also I bet older Denks is so fine, too. I don't have a clear image in my head yet but I KNOW he is. I know it. I do.)

But I, uh... hope this is okay!!! Ehehehe...

#denki #my favorite daydream with him tbh #can't even talk abt it #ask #anon #caitie post #kids tw #denki thoughts

[flooftyfizzlebeans]

Wambus or Triffany for headcanons?

Gonna do both!

Triffany

Sexuality Headcanon: I think Triffany has spent enough time studying non-western concepts of gender and sexuality to realize that she really doesn't need to put a label on what she loves, gender plays no part in what she's attracted to physically or romantically.

Gender Headcanon: Vaguely a woman. Like she's fine being perceived like a woman but that's just the tip of the iceberg. idk enough about grumpus culture to say anything more about this.

A ship I have with said character: I ship the canon ship of course, but I'm Gonna use Wambus's slot to talk about triffloofbus. Here I'll talk about Wiggleblog. .... actually I don't have a WHOLE lot to say other than hotted women and that one fic with wiggle/gramble/wambus/triffany and a Floofty grumpinati b-plot sold me on this. When it comes to ships it only takes one fic for me to start thinking about it.

A BROTP I have with said character: Listen I've said "liz" for like. most of these but ONCE AGAIN. LIZ. Ladies be falling in holes and going by she/it pronouns.

A NOTP I have with said character: Finally. FINALLY A CHARACTER WITH A NOTP FOR ME. Don't ship her with Shelda i guess. Triffany has too many gramma issues to get with a grandma aged lady.

A random headcanon: Autistic :o}

General Opinion over said character: When people pick between the two married women Floofty is friends with for them to have a crush on they more often pick Triffany. I have a massive crush on both. Triffany my beloved.

Wambus

Sexuality Headcanon: Married Triff before he got the chance to really think about that but is probably Bi. He doesn't particularly care about labels either but doesn't actively reject them.

Gender Headcanon: Loosely a man.

A ship I have with said character: *Cracks knuckles* Floofty Triffany Wambus Polycule for life. Wambus is pretty much Floofty's opposite. W F and T all thrive in different environments, too. But do I think Floofty would dig in the dirt to study the detris eating creatures beneath the soil nourishing wambus's garden? Absolutely. Would they enjoy being manhandled by the biggest grumpus in the expedition afterward when they knock over a plant that'll need a trellis to grow properly now? Yes. Do they get the metaphor there? NOPE. These two are dumb around women and even dumber in the other's element. A chance to learn. A chance to teach. A chance to worship Triffany like she deserves.

A BROTP I have with said character: Gramble Wambus friendship is too obvious with canon so I want Wambus to take back the "we are not friends" comment he made to Filbo.

A NOTP I have with said character: Eh. once again im not passionate about disliking stuff. Grambus is a ship i'm not willing to put in the effort to make it work but when people do its really great. usually involves giving gramble more agency than is habitual of this fandom.

A random headcanon: He may not know how to read as many languages as Triffany does, but the languages (yes plural) he does know are much more practical and he actually gets regular use out of them. Grumpus Spanish being the most common of his when he's back on the mainland.

General Opinion over said character: In love with him. meeting him right after Filbo and then followed up by beffica hooked me on the game. His realness lulled me into a false sense of security about the entire plot of the game, and really started me on the track to loving everyone in snaxburg. Also he's hot.

#wambus troubleham #triffany lottablog #bugsnax #soph talking bugsnax