#thank you for this ask. person i dont know

[fartcloudfartcloud]

What about Logan meeting a reader with more dominance than him? Like what would he do, what would he want to do to them?

*giggles and wrings hands together* You've found my achilles heel mr.69

i dont know if this is what you wanted but im using this as my excuse to write FREAKY SUBMISSIVE LOGAN PORN!!!

warnings: Edging, Logan being mean and then begging on his knees a second later, i do say reader is "5 foot whatever" but if that doesnt apply just ignore it lmao, I do describe him as almost crying every now and then so if that turns u off this might be a skip

This is short (1.5k) but I love submissive men so do NOT be afraid to lmk if you want more :)

Personally, I was raised by a woman way too strong headed to ever be the stereotype of submission, and I'm sure a lot of you share the same sentiment in some way or another. I was always told to never let a man tell me what to do, and I can picture a reader being the exact same way. 

Not mean, not bullheaded or rude, but strong. Tough. Logan had expected to blow through you like he had the rest of his team (or at least how he thought he did, though he was a lot tougher in his head than in action). But when he stood up to you, all 5 foot whatever of you, it felt like you were standing eye to eye.  

You did exactly as you were taught, chin up and shoulders back as you spoke with confidence, and it easily had you slipping into positions of power in the mansion with ease. He admired you from afar for a while, watched as you seamlessly commanded a room, effortlessly organizing missions and handling insubordinate children like it was nothing.  

Logan couldn't describe where the attraction came from. Originally, he thought it was his manly man urges to take a dominant woman and make her pine for him, but you and I both know that's not why you got him going. 

If you were to ask him right now in his current scenario, he wouldn't be able to tell you which was his favorite part. Not sure if it's you under him in between his knees, looking up and fluttering your pretty eyelashes at him like has something to behold; or if it's your firm grip around his cock, effortlessly bringing him so close to the edge before you manhandle him back down to earth. 

It had only been once so far, but you had gotten him bad. Your hands all sloppy and wet working up and down his length with vigor, your filthy loudmouth a never-ending record of come on baby, let me see it, let go for me. 

All that build up, just for you to -right as he whimpers out a breathless "going to fucking cum"- halt all action and grip your flingers tightly around his base. 

It ripped a deep growl from his chest, the feeling almost painful as his finish line is so rudely ripped from him.  

He should've known, he knows you too well too have assumed he could get you all pretty on your knees without some anterior motive.  

"You want something?" You ask him innocently, that stupid pretty smile still spread across your face. He grinds his teeth as the pressure in his stomach slowly simmers down, not enough air in his lungs to formulate a response.  

You slowly start stroking him again, an agonizing pace that has his cock flushed a deep red and practically throbbing in your hand. The sound is pornographic and it's all too much for him. 

He's whining now, head thrown back and noises getting increasingly high pitched as you keep his release just barely out of his reach. If he could focus enough to use his ears, he’d hear you laughing at him. 

He so rudely tries to interrupt you, tries to bring his own hands down to just get himself there, but you wouldn't allow it. You'd make him sit on his hands if you had to, and when you grabbed each wrist and planted them next to his thighs and told him to "stay," he knew better than to disobey. 

"Gotta ask for the things you want, Wolvie." You remind him. It's just basic manners, really, frankly he should be thanking you for still touching him after being so rude.  

"Don't gotta ask for shit," He spits out through clenched teeth. 

See, that was Logans problem. He had too much fucking pride, needed someone to teach him a lesson. Guess today he needs it to be you. 

"Mm you're right, Logan," you've got a smile on your face as you speak that Logan can't read. Either way, he's scared. 

None of it matters though as your hand picks up speed and pressure, resuming your prior ministrations as your fingers suddenly massage every spot with precision. His breath is gone as his head hangs limp on his shoulders, his fingers gripping the comforter like it would save him from your attack.  

"You don't gotta do shit," You're talking but he's not listening. It's all too good, he's being hurdled towards his orgasm faster than ever, he couldn't hear your jests even if he wanted to over the pressure in his ears. He’s gonna cum, he's so fucking close, and your hands feel so fucking good so perfect and it's all so much and- 

"But neither do I," and just like that you're off him. Not like before, this time you stand up and physically take a step back from him, watching his form head to toe as he's forced to cope with his second lost orgasm. 

The groan he lets out is primal, you expect to see him start ripping the pillows and sheets with how his writhing on your bed. He’s on his back twitching, practically crying from the ache pulsing through the center of his body. It hurts, he's so desperate it physically hurts, his hips rutting into the air in search of anything. 

He has no sense anymore, no control over any of his limbs as he falls to the floor and crawls to you, the only thing he can make out in his fogged-up mind is need.  

"Please baby," He begs mindlessly, "You're so fucking mean to me," He's kissing your thighs and pulling at your hands, buttering you up and wallowing in any contact you'll give him.  

Neither of you know how it happened, know at what point in the night he broke and became a whimpering messy puppy, but God did it feel good to watch, to see him yearn for you so desperately. 

His eyes are teary eyed and hazy as he speaks, "I'll do anything princess I'm sorry," He kisses you palm and knuckles and up your wrists, "Please baby I'm sorry I'm sorry just fucking-" His hips involuntarily grind down, his thighs twitching and his hard cock bobbing between his legs. "Please touch me baby I can't fucking take it,"  

He’s a mess, his cock is leaking all over his thighs and the floor, and his lips won't leave your body, lathing kisses anywhere he can, worshipping your body as you stand still and look down at him.  

"Why can't you just behave the first time?" You ask, wrapping your fingers in his hair and gently tugging his hair back, making him look at you as he speaks.  

"Was just playin baby," He kisses the wrist of the hand in his hair, "shouldn't have teased you baby I'm sorry, please baby please," his arms are wrapped around your thighs as he nuzzles into you. It's pathetic, and if anyone else ever saw him like this he's sure he could just explode on the spot.  

"Get back on the bed." You order, taking pleasure in the way he scrambles back to his spot, his legs spread for you and his hands pressed back into their spot next to his hips. He’s disheveled, his hair falling over his face and sticking to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat covering him head to toe. Youd keep him like this forever if you could. 

You decide to take mercy on him though, the sight of him on his knees begging like a dog more than enough to satisfy your cravings. Now, all you wanted was to do was so how pretty he looked once he actually finished for you. 

You find your spot between his legs again, looking up at him all pretty just like before. God you were going to ruin him. 

"Go on. Tell me what you want," you give him one last instruction before giving in. His breath is shaky, his words coming out in a whole different tone than before. He sounds small, on the brink of tears as he whimpers out one last desperate, "please," before you spit in your hand and wrap it back around his cock.  

Instantly he's gone. He doesn't even have the energy to moan or cry, he's just paralyzed. His eyes roll back and his hand clamps over his mouth, no air left in his lungs as the most mind-numbing wave of pleasure works up from his core. He wasn't even cumming yet and it already was making him shake. 

He should've just trusted you, should've known that you'd make him feel so fucking good if he just listened. Never again, he'll never say no to you ever again. 

By the time his orgasm actually hit him, he's laid out flat on his back on the mattress, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes squeezed shut. Both his hands are wrapped in the sheets, stuck in place by his claws that slowly inch out with every rope of cum that comes from him. There's no sound until it's all out of him, your hands not stopping till he's whining and pushing you away from him. 

You watch as he recovers, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he desperately tries to get air back into his lungs, aftershocks still tumbling through him. His eyes flutter back open, not enough energy to focus on anything else though as his claws start sheathing back into his knuckles.  

He sits up as you return from the bathroom with a washcloth, gently cleaning off his stomach and anything that was coated in a thin layer of his finish. He’s sensitive, hissing and gasping as you gently clean his slowly softening length and thighs.  

Once all evidence is taken care of, you look up at him with soft eyes. He looks so amazing like this, his eyes can't focus on anything while his lips slowly pull into a big dopey grin. You let him take you in for a moment, just staying like this with him till he has the strength to speak.  

"Jesus Christ," Is all he says before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before falling back onto the bed.  

"Are you going to make it?" You tease, cuddling up under his arm where he lay and resting your head on his bicep.  

"I don't think so," He giggles, enough oxygen in his system now, enough strength in him to wrap himself around you and kiss your head. "You were a lot closer to killing me then you think,"  

You giggle and smack his chest, "keep being mean like that and next time I actually will," 

[piquuroblox]

[calcium-supplement]

Man i get some really really lovely tags on my art sometimes and i always wanna respond and thank them cuz it means so much to me but i dont know how best to/if i should kfjkdjdk, cuz maybe they will feel put on blast or dont want a response, ive tried a few diff things but im never sure fkjddkjd

(N if u can reblog for more data id appreciate it, i wanna help us figure out what we can do)

[fordpinesthemanyouare]

Ford x Fem!Reader

Math Assistant Pt.1

Summary: Ford needs himself an assistant, Stanley makes an online post for him and BOOM there you are, coming to meet him for an interview at the diner.

Warnings: Erm... this is a nothing sandwich I THINK. Please let me know if I should add something

A/N: My brothers in christ please this is my first fic that I wrote on a whim, I had an idea and I started writing. I have never written fan ficiton in my life so pls be nice... also who up wit dey werm to Stanford Pines HOOBA HOOBA!!!!! Okay also I want to write SMUT for this so imagine this is like the really really really long winded plot to the porno. K thanks bye read if u want or dont i dont control you.

——————

Ford shook his head at Stanley who was seated in front of a new computer now placed in the living room, “I’m still confused on why we should be posting the ad listing “online” rather than the local paper, or putting up flyers around town.” Ford used air quotes for emphasis, he still found the whole idea strange, he liked the computer for being a tool he could use to further research. He didn't like it so much as a vessel for finding candidates for a job he was offering, the thought that he had no idea who was communicating with him unsettled him a bit. Especially knowing the kind of work he was going to be having this future assistant… well assist with.

“Because yer never going to find someone with the qualifications yer asking for in this town” Stan looked over his shoulder at a crossed arm Ford. “Hiring someone for a summer job who has a PhD in Application Math, whatever that means-“

“Applied Mathematics, Stanley” Ford interrupted.

“Whatever it is you're not going to find that here, you and fiddleford are probably the only people in this town to actually have a college degree” he said with a chuckle, turning back to the computer. He was clicking around on some website that Ford had never heard of, let alone just recently finding out what the internet was. “I'm setting up a job listing on some of the local college websites, ya know for people that are studying or just done studying”. The clicking of the mouse and the typing of keys continued as Ford ran the motion through his head, overthinking perhaps every outcome of Stanley posting that job listing. Ultimately though Ford knew he was right in that, no one with at least a degree in Applied Mathematics was going to be residing nearby.

“Just please be careful about the information you include in this job posting, try to keep it minimal as possible. If they ask more questions about specifics you can let them know that I can explain in person.”

Stan looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows slightly downturned with a smirk rising on his face, “I didn’t realize you had hired me to be your assistant, you're going to have to cough up if you want me to do this for you”. Ford groaned in annoyance of his brother, “Stanley you know I don’t know how to use any of that”.

“Exactly why you're going to want to have me help you out with this”, Stanley moved his arm to drape across the back of the chair he was in, looking more directly at him. “That’ll be twenty dollars”, he held out his hand expectantly at his twin. A beat of silence passed between the two as they had a small staring contest, both men’s brows furrowed at the other.

Ford finally reached for his back pocket after he felt he had glared at his brother enough, he slipped a twenty dollar bill from the leather wallet and practically slammed it in his hand before walking in the opposite direction without a word. While Stan on the other hand, was more than beaming when he saw Ford’s hand fall to his back pocket, Stan half shouted as Ford strode out of the room.

“You’ll thank me later when I find the perfect candidate!” He laughed as he said it and returned to more clicking and typing around the website.

Ford returned to the lab to finish up some things before the kids were scheduled to get there later in the month. When they returned from the long months at the ocean, Ford wanted nothing more than to work on something in his lab again. He loved feeling the anticipation of a project becoming something, but of course he knew he could easily get carried away. After Dipper and Mabel left last summer, before Stanley and him were going to head out, he had made a major discovery while working in the lab. He had discovered an atom that was capable of recreating a direct clone of itself and in as many atoms he could count. He continued to work on the project until Stanley was practically dragging him from the house to leave to sail around the world.

While sailing towards one of their final destinations at the end of the trip, Ford finally opened up to Stanley about his worries of falling into the same pits as before. He was worried that he would become too involved, as he already felt himself doing as they were leaving for their trip. He also desperately needed some alone time from Stanley, but he didn’t mention that to him while they were on the boat.

“What if you hired someone to help you with the project?” Stan had offered a possible solution, while he had sat in the boat looking at Ford who was deep in thought over his dilemma. “I mean obviously the last time that happened, it wasn’t great either…” He trailed off after the look on Ford’s face became apparent, regretting the thought of his old college friend.

“I know the last time wasn’t great” Stanley pushed forward, “but maybe if you have someone hired to help with the smaller stuff. Things like using the calculator or something, whatever the small stuff even is to you” he said the last part under a fake cough which earned him a glare from his brother. However, the idea wasn't… terrible, Ford thought. He pondered over the possibilities of having someone helping him out, along with having the two kids upstairs to bother him. If he were to have someone who he didn't have to know that well take on most of the minor details, the equations and such, he would be able to prioritize the best parts of the project while also having time for his family. At least, that’s what he had hoped for when Stanley initially offered the idea.

“That could be a good idea…” Ford said after taking several moments to ponder the possibilities. “I would need someone who could do advanced mathematical equations, with room for equations that could possibly extend what they know…”. Stanley just looked at him deep in thought, wondering how there could be that many things to think about, the answer seemed clear to him.

Back in the lab, Ford could hear Stanley groaning loudly about some ‘unknown error message’. He continued to monitor and take note of the atoms under his advanced microscope for a while, waiting until Stanley had further news of any postings. He wondered what his new assistant would be like, if they could have the same passion for knowledge and understanding as he does.

———

A few days had passed, Ford falling into old habits quickly, holing himself up in the lab for hours upon hours. The only time he was seen over the last 48 hours was to grab more coffee from the kitchen, he caught naps in between work, falling asleep over his piles of scrap paper filled with numbers and letters. Ford had not anticipated how much mathematical reasoning was going to follow the atom cloning discovery, he was falling behind on moving forward with more discoveries on the atoms, but over hundreds of miniscule details that needed solving kept him at the desk. Stan walked down on the 49th hour of Ford’s lock down in the basement, opening the door noisily and making as much noise as possible on the way down to let him know he was on the way. Ford was scribbling away on the nth page of scrap work, crossing out failed attempts of solving equations as Stan broached the lab floor.

Stan awkwardly cleared his throat at Ford when he didn’t turn around, even though Stanley was sure to have made enough noise on the way down. Ford turned his head over his shoulder, his body seeming to not want to move from the space it had cramped into. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner, as if asking ‘What? Im busy’. Stan gave a huff of annoyance before starting,

“I have about 3 applications that I thought were worth looking over, most of the idiots who applied didn’t even have math degrees. All they see in the listing is free housing and they flock like birds trying to claw their way in” he said with a slight chuckle. He strided over to Ford’s desk, as Ford leaned back finally interested in what Stan was saying. He took the papers from Stanley and began to look over them. He began thumbing through the few resumes, looking over each one carefully noting that all three people had at least some qualifications in mathematics. He looked up to Stan and gave him a tight smile.

“I appreciate you getting these for me, I’ll reach out to the ones I feel are qualified.” A beat passed between them, Ford paused for a second wondering if he should just return to work at this point or if Stanley had something else since he hasn't made any move to leave.

“I think the one on the bottom will be the best fit.” Stan said with a certain look in his face that Ford couldn’t place, as he turned to leave. Ford looked at him as he walked towards the stairs with a questioning look on his face, wondering what could have led his brother to place a preference on one of these resumes even though he didn't know what applied mathematics was. As Stan trudged up the stairs Ford called to his brother,

“I'll be sure to look at that one, thank you Stanley.” Which made Stanley pause and turn to look at Ford, a distant smile on his face as he nodded and continued up the stairs. Ford turned back to his desk and pulled the resume on the bottom up to the top, the header in nice bold letters a fine print used, he noted.

Y/N YL/N

He also took note that this was the only two-page resume offered to him, with the education list taking up most of the room. Several universities/schools were listed and his eyes read over the names and degrees that followed. He read all the way to the bottom where it listed your highschool with graduation dated in 1999. He noted this person was in their early 30’s with several bachelors degrees in several sciences, two master’s degrees in statistics and biology, and of course a Ph.D in applied mathematics. The latest graduation listed was University of Oregon masters program in statistics for April, which he noted it was now early May noting it would be fresh on the mind. He moved your resume to the back of the small stack, looking over the first two he skipped over, and honestly he wished he saved yours for last. The first two were jokes compared to the advanced knowledge you listed, he set the first aside after noting that the education list was no longer than a paragraph, and the second resume didn’t take long to set aside either as his eyes raked in the many spelling errors.

He read over your resume again looking for a way to contact you to set up the interview. He noted the phone number and email in the corner of the first page, and made to move upstairs to the kitchen phone. As he stood up however, his muscles almost molded into place from sitting at the desk, stopped him from moving further. He groaned as he began to stretch himself out, thinking about how he couldnt wait to stop looking at math problems for hours on end.

Heading back upstairs he reached the phone and quickly gazed at the microwave clock, 3:49 pm. He was glad it wasn’t later than five, as he picked up the corded receiver and began to punch in the numbers. The phone rang a few times before your voice fluttered over the phone, “Hello?”. Ford cleared his throat awkwardly, “Hello! Yes, is this Y/N YL/N? Oh it is, great, this is Stanford Pines calling about a job posting for the assistant position. I was hoping to set up an interview to discuss further details of the position.”

“I was just wondering if I would hear back from this offer,” the light voice on the other end laughed a pleasant laugh a little before continuing, “I’d love to join you for an interview regarding the position, I’m free anytime, anywhere this coming week and the next.”.

Ford offered a time for tomorrow at the local diner, which he provided the address to. The voice on the phone wished Ford a great rest of his night and that they would see him tomorrow. Ford wished them the normal pleasantries he hated to conduct while making mundane phone calls such as these. He was slightly relieved to find you weren’t completely strange, at least right off the bat. When he hung the phone back on the hanger, Stan suddenly spoke, causing Ford to jump from the lack of warning.

“So did you end up going with the one I said?” Stan looked smug as Ford met his gaze, knowing damn well he scared Ford on purpose. Ford rolled his eyes after he settled after the slight scare,

“Unsurprisingly, as you could probably assume. You shouldn’t have even bothered with the other two. One only had a few community college classes under their belt.” Ford turned to make more coffee, he figured he would stretch his legs now as he was planning on working on some more equations before the meeting tomorrow. Stan gave a hearty laugh, “She’s also quite the looker, surprised me when I was pulling resumes”. Ford gave his brother a look as he asked, “Can’t you make your picture anything you want online?”. He remembers when they got the computer last time the kids were here, Dipper had shown him how he had his profile for online DD&MD. He absolutely didn’t understand it, but Dipper assured him this summer he would teach him. Which would benefit him from not having to pay Stanley anytime he needed something done the modern way (this was not often).

“Yeah but this was on a college website, everyone has their picture I think. It looks all like student ID’s… Oh don’t look at me like that! I looked at all of their profile pictures. She just happened to have the best looking picture.” Stan finished with a shrug and a laugh. Ford had looked at him like he was crazy for looking through all the people who applied profile pictures before feeling the need to ask, “You did give me recommendations on experience, not looks correct?”.

Stan shook his head, “I know you would kill me if I passed on a math nerd over an actual good looking girl” he laughed, turning “I'm going to head out gotta meet some people, don’t wait up for me.” Stan said as he was walking out the door, grabbing the keys as he slammed the door. Ford shook his head and decided to take his brother's word for it, his mind replaying what his twin mentioned, “quite the looker” as if that could have any effect on anything. Ford thought he didn't care much at all for how a person appeared as long as they could solve these problems that's all that mattered, and maybe that they were decently pleasant to work with. He couldnt help but reflect back to the phone call, your light and airy voice filling his ear with pleasant sound, at least you didnt have a horrible voice and he could probably get used to hearing that voice more often, he thought. Ford filled his cup with coffee and headed back downstairs not giving the interview tomorrow much more thought than your voice on the phone.

—————

A/N: Yay I did it!!! yeah so what if its a nothing sandwich?? Didnt i literally say that before hand.. hope you enjoyed if ya read! <3

[zhuuba]

Hello Gumpai I dont know if my other message sent or not But what I wanted to ask was if Retards keep getting banned from your community why not consider an outrageous unban fee ($1000 and up) to prove their loyalty and then ban them again if they Keep acting retarded? I feel that would be a good way to keep the gumpanions a large community with diverse personalities while also making you a lot of money on the side. I know that this isnt exactly the best plan But I would appreciate it if you gave it some thought.

Whoa anon! you're so smart when it comes to these types of thing. I put it on Ko-fi, it's under my commissions. Thank you!! I love you so much!

[our-reality]

hi thorne. i spent like 15 minutes trying to find this one post about someone telling an ex god they can't take the lords name in vain and them being like "its ok im reclaiming it" so i cld send it to you and tag it as python but im convinced i dreamed the post at this point because it's fuckijg Nowhere so. use your iguananation

HEKAVWAKSBWMBWDJ???? ok the post youre describing reminds me of the "saying kys even as a joke is really gross" post (which is also on this blog) but i think itd be HILARIOUS if you fuckin dreamed that. it IS pythoncore btw ive been messing with the idea of like. people believing in gods but not the ones that actually exist. and i think that would be really fuDid You Say Iguananation

[carouselunique]

Decided to go through with this after all! Post proof of donation of at minimum 10$USD and a simple request and you can get a colored sketch! (Honey kindly modeled for the example like a good filly!)

[berlingotesque]

What are your ships for Batim? :D

VERY GOOD QUESTION- I know my answer should be rather straightforward but I feel I have to put some context to my answers since they may seem contradictory/paradoxical otherwise, so bear with me-

Sammy x Norman : Well. I think that one was pretty obvious, anyone who's seen more than 3 of my posts knows that I'd die for these two. They're just so PERFECT for each other, from their complementary personalities to the fact that their relationship allows us to delve deeper into batim's historical and social context. Sammy and Norman have one of the few relationships that develop the most during the game's lore : Norman originally complains vehemently about Sammy's frenetic behavior, only to end up lamenting to Buddy and Dot how 'Sammy isn't the same anymore'. What's interesting about this statement is that he says it in relation to Sammy's strange behavior : clearly, the two men have grown close enough for Norman to differentiate Sammy's extravagant habits from his ink-influenced behavior.

Furthermore, Sammy is a very gray character morally, a perfectionist who is extremely socially maladjusted (surely due to the fact that he's coded on the spectrum and autism wasn't properly diagnosed at the time), naturally ostracizing him. For his part, Norman comes from a rural background (which surely earns him the animosity of the people at the studio, given the historical context and the fact that he could very well be poc) and also seems ill at ease socially : to me, it's fascinating to see two characters excluded from their peers because of differences they can't change (being autistic or poc and gay) getting closer to each other, to the point where Sammy, who is deeply misanthropic, naturally compliments Norman by describing him as very bright. To me, Norman is the perfect partner for Sammy : ready to apprehend him as he is, since he's completely free of social conventions, without taking any shits from him.

I think Sammy and Norman can really get the best out of each other, during a historical period when being different was strongly proscribed. I think I'd have trouble enjoying Batim as much without their dynamic at its heart (considering how narratively rich it is) : Norman is Henry's confidant, Sammy is Joey's, both remain morally gray deuteragonists fundamentally opposed to the ink machine, while remaining fascinated by its powers. And who wouldn't love a good old enemies to lovers ending tragically with the unwitting murder of one by the other ? After all, Norman's main flaw is that he's too curious for his own good, and it was Sammy who inevitably led him to his doom..

Allison x Tom : what more can I add. She's everything. He's just Tom. I've always been drawn to characters/ships with a vibe completely opposite to the vibe of the work they originally came from, and the 'turning poison into positivity' energy that Tom and Allison bring to Batim has always fascinated me. In a world as tragic as their own, I find it touching to see these two find beauty in all the ugliness and manage to ask themselves 'what if we were happy after all ?' It's really striking and brings a narrative richness to the work, since they directly mirror what failed with Sammy and Susie : Allison is perfect, but that was never what was at stake in Tom's eyes. Tom was looking for humanity, not perfection, and he managed to go beyond the image of the muse to discover a friend, unlike Sammy with Susie. They're literally Romeo and Juliet but, well... Not dead.

Joey x Henry/Henry x Linda : oh boy. These three... Let me get it straight right away : Henry and Linda are perfect for each other. She's exactly what he needs to be happy : she's present, patient. There's no denying that he loves her immensely. But Joey... oh Joey is undoubtedly Henry's soul mate. The subtlety is that Joey can't bring him the stable happiness Linda can : Joey tugs at him, pushes him over the edge. He knows exactly what to do to push him beyond his own limits. The love Joey offers Henry is an uncomfortable but unconditional one, one that would allow Henry to go beyond what he thinks he's capable of achieving because no one knows Henry better than Joey ! And let's be honest, Batim only exists because Joey refuses to move on, to live his dream without Henry in it. He's stuck in unrequited love and refuses to learn to live with it. And that's the tragedy of this trio : Henry sincerely loves Linda but is truly himself with Joey, which prevents him from hating OR loving him (And Joey exploits this information by remaining extremely toxic and convincing himself that he can wear him down lmao). Henry is stuck with this dilemma : Existing peacefully with Linda or living painfully with Joey. And that's why I love the dynamic of this love triangle : because there are no solutions that will satisfy everyone.

Joey x Sammy : okay, don’t get me wrong : these two are HORRIBLE for each other. Does Sammy periodically want to quit just to piss Joey off? Yes. Isn't Joey's fascination with Sammy intimately tied to his refusal to forget Henry, who was a genius like Sammy? Yes. Nevertheless, it's impossible for me to read The Illusion of Living without feeling embarrassed and like I'm reading Joey's diary : whether you ship them or not, Joey is practically canonically smitten with Sammy. I sincerely don't think Joey and Sammy can sustain a healthy relationship with each other, but oh boy, surely that won't stop me from exploiting their bizarre obsessive love-hate relationship, where it's hard to determine whether they're going to throw hands or make out.

[tangledinink]

clenches fist. finally sucked it up and ordered a new ipad...

[puppyeared]

Been LOVING your lil magician folks recently please continue they're beautiful and very cute and cool and also very well-designed!! 🥺❤️

thank you for the kind words !!! im not much of a writer, but i do have some sort of story in mind for them.. theyre bitter rivals who end up as roommates bc of their scatterbrained elderly landlord lol

[dykedvonte]

what do you think Danse does to keep himself busy after blind betrayal, specifically if he's living in sanctuary? I just love your takes on him a lot haha

I think Danse is very lost in any settlement but especially Sanctuary. It was the first and very close-knit at that with the small group the Sole Survivor founded it with. Each time they would invite a new companion to live there it was like adding a pillar to the community and represented what the Minute Men stood for when it came ot uniting and protecting the commonwealth as one. I am not going to say it's cliquey, in fact I feel like SoSu and Preston/Sturges would go out of their way to make newcomers feel welcome but for Danse that is very different.

He (from my playthrough experience) is one of the later companions. I ran around a lot and got a good portion of the companions and their quest before act one was done. He is also one of the few companions who openly thinks lowly of life in the commonwealth and certain citizens (if not all citizens to an extent). He did not introduce himself to Sanctuary to make friends or roots. So when he gets stuck there under the SoSu's "orders" (not letting him rot in sorrow in some random bunker) he doesn't have any comfort or companionship, in fact, I think he has more tensions and beef tbh.

I imagine the first weeks or even a month or two were rough. I don't think it is stated enough that like Danse went to that bunker intending to follow Brotherhood protocols and kill himself. SoSu may have convinced him not to in the moment but with someone like Danse, so rigid and stuck in an ideology even after it spits in his face, it's not unlikely he has a weird guilt about being alive at first. It doesn't help that I know in my heart that a few of the more petty or insensitive companions or settlers would tease him about it (playful meanness) thinking he was adjusting well (or not caring) to the Sanctuary life and coming to terms with his identity. Sometimes they go too far and it's easy to tell he's gotten back into the headspace, looking at his reflection, trying to remember concrete dates for his memories, etc..

I have this head canon that SoSu recognized this pattern as they had to have immense survivor's guilt (especially after being in Kellogs brain) about surviving the vault. They had the same idea about making things "fair" for the other vault dwellers and Shaun was the only thing between them and those thoughts for a while. For the first weeks it was a lot of SoSu monitoring him and making sure he was adjusting and not falling back into that thinking, y'know the whole "I am a disgrace and abomination against the Brotherhood and humanity. The only thing I can do to no longer sully the honor of either is to kill mys-" Like stopping that with minor distractions.

It would be a lot of small work and building projects and patrols for lost scavengers or to make sure no one is stalking the place. It's nice for him for a while, he's getting social interaction and he's not dead in the eyes of at least one Brotherhood member, especially one of as high rank as the SoSu. But it's also really unhealthy. Danse was trained and raised in a militaristic pseudo-religious faction. As much as there seemed to be casualness towards comrades there was a strict structure and order. He shoves the SoSu into that role and probably gets nick-named as their shadow during this period.

They are his only goal as he has nothing else and it shows bad. The rest of the settlement notices he trails after them and only really does his own thing when it's part of a task he was doing for, with or assigned by the Sole survivor. It's not an obsession with them specifically but he has lost his entire understanding of life and this is the one thing that stayed concrete. He does what he's asked of because following the Sole survivor has at least kept him belonging somewhere and why mess that up?

I am sure SoSu is not oblivious and is actively trying to figure out how to get Danse to start socializing and trying to actually settle into the community but for the time being Danse would treat himself like the machine he perceives himself as; Overworking himself as he believes machines don't need the same amount of rest, isolating himself and mostly trying to not have a mental breakdown every time he get into the power armor that is very much not his issued Brotherhood of Steel tech. He openly does this in respect of the General who hates it and makes everyone else uncomfortable.

this was very long just to say I think Danse just works himself to the bone all day and purposely puts thoughts in his already fragile psyche that everyone hates him and only tolerates his presence to not seem Synth-phobic and the Sole survivor's favor.

[restinpeacesensei]

suggesting something,,

[bonefall]

Willowpelt sounds SO autistic, it not being funny wraps around into being funny again.

My secret is being so autistic and so surrounded by so many other autistic people that I forget what tismless people even do. Everyone in BB ends up getting a touch of ADHDautism. As a treat.

But yeah when I was jotting it down I realized it too. Like wow, I really hit this one with the autism beam. Me and you, Willy, we will both have adamantine opinions. I cannot condone your hatred of apples but you do have a good point about oak trees.

[dayurno]

most touching bit that has been going on recently is people including kevjean when they say there are ship wars being fought on jean's holy name as if kevjean is ever even remotely comparable to jerejean (famous) and jeanee (canon)..... there are five kevjean fans and two are me. i dont think we can compete let alone compare but i love the enthusiasm

[skunkes]

ok posting it here bc im not sure if its going to stay in the doodle page

[potatobugz]

do you think the mess in oshiros hotel is meant to signify that hes been letting his problems pile up until its become too overwhelming to handle.

im thinking about the fact that he's definitely the one who's been making the mess but he doesn't even realize it. he ignores the clutter until it becomes too hard to ignore you know? like when it starts actively blocking the way to the presidential suite. he insists that he and his staff will handle it and that madeline shouldn't clean up his own mess, but he still doesn't do anything about it. does he know that the staff is gone? that it's just him there?

mr oshiro is so hell bent on impressing madeline so that she'll stay in his hotel. he's so in denial of everything. he doesn't even realize he's dead, he still thinks his hotel never got shut down. I think his insistence on her staying is bc he really wants to believe that the hotel is open, and a costumer would affirm that belief. it could also maybe be a mixture of loneliness too. (also, him treating her as a costumer even after she says no is absolutely him being in denial. that man is very unhealthily attached to this hotel,)

and even though it was nice of madeline to clean it up, there's still parts of the hotel she can't fix. the plumbing. the windows. the, hole in the ceiling (oops.) she's not qualified to help him, and that's why I think the chapter ends on a bit of a sour note. madeline is of course not a bad person for wanting to help, the point is that she can't. it is unfortunate but true

anyways mr oshiro is a very good character i like him a regular amount. im normal about that old man