#NOTE TO EFFING SELF

[koushirouizumi]

{Digimon Adventure:} {2020 Reboot} ~ Final Episode{s} + 2020 Koushiro & Tentomon {+Mimi as Support} (Friendship)

(Tentomon, Low m u r m u r i n g softly into Koushiro's e a r):

>Koushiro-han, we JUST 'finished' a "big j o b". >Lets take it easy from here.

"...You're RIGHT" - Koushiro, more calmly & content

Cap'd by @izzyizumi {Do Not R E P O S T} {Do Not R E P R O D U C E My Works Under Any Circumstances Without My Permission} (Please ASK to Use/Share!)

(Original commentary + Image usage rules under 'read more'!)

{T e n t o m o n proceeds to actively h e l p m a s s a g e Koushiro's s h o u l d e r s, something which should, 'T h e o r e t i c a l l y', 'Take W o r k'} (But Does It A n y w a y)

"No, they might POSSIBLY..." - L e o m o n

"H U M A N S and D i g i m o n... What kind of effects the M E R G I N G of the T w o W o r l d s produce from here"

"...Is 'something' EVEN I CANNOT {'P R E D I C T'}." - W I S E M O N

[ghostarii]

GLASS TABLE GIRL ! ～ BLADE . ❛ i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  SHOW NOTES fem!reader ❱ guitarist!blade ❱ groping ❱ reader is a groupie ❱ PWP!!! ❱ (reader is intoxicated so technically) dubcon ❱ spanking ❱ degradation ❱ clit n nipple slapping ❱ ig ooc!blade but who cares ❱ choking/asphyxiation ❱ size kink ❱ dacryphilia ❱ outdoor/public sex ❱ exhibitionism ❱ spit ❱ face-fucking ❱ dirty talk ❱ reader has 0 self respect ❱ name calling ❱ overstimulation ❱ creampie & unprotected sex (stay safe) ❱ clit pinching ❱ hair pulling ❱ multiple orgasms ❱ cumplay(?) ❱ no aftercare ❱ minors & dc antis do not interact.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  CREDITS i have not written a fic in so effing long nd i was high writing this so excuse my rustiness :c but i have risen from my grave so let’s rejoice nonetheless ! !blade is on my mind 24/7 n i just want to be used n abused by him omfg turn me OWT! i listened to one of the girls by the weeknd literally the entire time i wrote this sooo feel free to listen while reading ^_^ i was js writing as i went so ts is very pwp sorryyy . . i’m gonna try to be more active on here i js need time to write so in the meantime pls show that my works would be appreciated here =( likes & reblogs are so GREATLY APPRECIATED ! ! ! if u don’t like, pls scroll cs comm guidelines r so mean to creators T_T

˖ ⁺ ⫾  RUN TIME 7.5k+ words . (of pure filth)

IF SOMEBODY ASKED you who your favorite artist was, you would say Ren—known by his moniker: BLADE. There was nothing you didn't like about this man; everything about him fundamentally and ultimately was the object of a girlish obsession. You knew all of his songs front to back, followed his social media on every single platform, and never missed a single piece of media uploaded about him. Your life was built around his style: dark and mysterious and enigmatic. He was your number one, unmatched and unchanged.

He was a hard man to come by. He frequently held small shows, with no more than twenty-thousand people on the high end. It was impossible to go, and every time you tried, your chance miserably passed you up. But this time, June twenty-third, twenty-twenty-three, you were right there, in the middle of the pit, only mere feet away from Blade. It was your first time seeing him in person by the grace of your best friend who surprisingly snagged tickets, and you’d never been more grateful in your life.

Blade was ethereal. The concert videos you’d seen over the years did not compare to the image in front of your face. It was dark, the main lights being spotlights shone on his pearly, perspiring, black, skin-tight silk-clothed skin, and dim red LED lights on the set behind him. His fingers ran effortlessly across his guitar, an inexplicably attractive riff and tone singing from the instrument. You felt like you were in Heaven, your eyes never leaving the show before your eyes. It was hot and uncomfortable in the pit but it was worth it. So worth it because he looked at you: taking you in with an unfaltering stare. His lip slipped between his teeth, and he shook his head, throwing stray locks to the back, and God, you felt as though you needed to be bolted to the ground with the way you wanted to jump on the stage. He walks up to the microphone, the most gut-wrenchingly hot vocals sliding off of his tongue. His eyes were closed, smudged eyeliner emphasizing his fluttering, long lashes, and his lips were spit-slicked, parting and pursing with each sultry lyric leaving. They were plump and rosy as if they were asking to be kissed—it was a sight to behold.

You sang your heart out, dragging your hand from waving in the air down a curvy path on your body, going from your shoulder to your chest to below where Blade’s sight would reach. You turned to your friend and recited the lyrics with a big smile and following giggle, all to turn your attention back to the stage and lock eyes with him. Your thighs clamped together just at the narrowed and burning gaze he delivered. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted a man more than you do right now.

Your friend found a way closer to the stage and you wedged your way between the crowd, finding yourself so close that the speakers were banging on your eardrums. You could feel the music in your bones, and all you could think of to describe it was hot and heavy. Maybe it was all of the pregaming you and your friend did before the concert, or the condensed heat and gyrating bodies, but you were so hot. You wipe your sweaty skin as you sway to the beginning of the next song, taking out your phone to begin recording.

Blade leans into the mic, muttering lowly, “I want you all to sing.” He pulls the microphone out of the stand, letting his guitar hang off of his shoulder from the strap. And that’s when he makes his way to where you stand, muttering small “yeah”’s and “good job”’s into the mic as the crowd collectively sings. He kneels right before you, “Sing.” he says into the mic.

You go wide-eyed—cute, he thinks—but you start singing. You grab an open portion of the microphone, leaning in as close as possible and reciting the lyrics of the song just as you were told. All eyes and cameras were on you, and that included Blade, who held an intense gaze on you the entire verse. When you finish the crowd erupts in cheers and screams, and he pulls away, finishing the song. You turned to your friend and screamed about your main character moment, dancing and singing even happier into her recording phone. This was the best night of your life.

For the rest of the concert, you had the time of your life. Blade ends the show with a final guitar solo, the entire audience silent as he wrecks the strings and pours his heart into his vocals. He briefly spoke to his fans, thanking everyone for coming out and heading backstage as everyone began to clear out. And all he could think about was that girl who his eyes couldn't help but wander toward, and to whom his thoughts dedicated his innuendos. He remembers the sign you held at the beginning of the show: “BLADE ♡WNS M(Y)E (HEART) ♡”. Your eyes honed filth that your natural disposition didn’t and he longed for it. He held bated breath as he informed his security about you, requesting you be located and brought to him and they replied with “We’ll try our best, sir.”

It was an after-concert tradition for Blade to hit up a local club, especially in situations like this where it was his last stop. He hoped he’d find you there, but he knew you would, especially if you were as big of a fan as you looked.

“Yukong, just thirty minutes! Please!!” you pleaded, trying to pull your friend into your opinion. She shook her head no, “I can’t! I have to go home! I’m so tired and you know…” you stop your friend there, not wanting to hear about her boyfriend.

“Fine. I’m still going though, text me when you get home.” you didn’t want Yukong to go home. But arguing was pointless, and only time was being put to the test, not her stubbornness. You knew from your years as a Blade fan that he always went to the club after a concert to meet fans, and some rumors even suggested ulterior motives, so you wanted to go. Yukong frowned at your flat expression but still hugged you, waving at you as she got in her car to go home. You’d be flying solo, but you had faith in yourself.

So you make your way over to the nearest club via taxi, praying that this is the one that Blade would visit. You weren’t all too familiar with the place, its name, Starskiff Haven, only being one you’ve heard in passing. Regardless, your thoughts were assured by the abundance of fighting and pushing bodies to get in the door—and when your phone lit up, a Twitter notification from a Blade Updates page noting his location, Starskiff Haven, you smiled widely, making your way to the line.

It was way too long and you weren’t interested in waiting all night—you had to meet Blade. A time like this is when Yukong comes into hand with her very stern persuasion, something that’s near impossible to deny. But she left, and you’d have to figure out a way in. And a thought immediately came to mind.

You walked to the front of the line, breathing in deeply and psyching yourself up for how incredibly you were about to embarrass yourself. When you exhale, you book it, beelining straight into the club, right past security. You immediately shift your demeanor, blending into the crowd seamlessly as security guards rush in, looking around for you. Hiding behind the most cluelessly drunk girl, you make your way to the bar, immediately ordering a sidecar. It packed a punch and the combination of how many shots you had earlier, it’d be just enough to get you through whatever you were about to do.

You turn around in the swivel stool, taking in the atmosphere and coasting the area for any sighting of Blade. The club was darker than the concert but heavily illuminated with hazy, colorful LEDS and much, much louder, filled to the brim with chatter and deafening bass-boosted music. Your drink was brought to you moments later, and with a big sip, you raked your eyes over the club once again. You could see bodies grinding on the main floor, the DJ bopping his head as his hands moved diligently across his DJ controller, couples making out and slipping into cornered areas, and friend groups recording and taking pictures. It was a lively environment, sure, and from the strength that beat on your tongue, established by incredibly skilled bartenders—but you weren’t looking for a new clubbing spot, you were looking for Blade.

And Blade was looking for you. Swimming through the unforgivingly hot crowd for you. He wasn’t itching to have you, he was itching to take you. Every time he closed his eyes he was brought back to his time on stage and how you danced in the audience. How your lips pushed out his lyrics and how your hands couldn’t stop waving in the air and running on your skin. How you swiped off sweat from your forehead and fanned yourself with your sign. And how you couldn’t keep your star-filled eyes off of him. Every light reflection off of your eyes showed desperation and neediness. You were begging to be picked without ever uttering a word, and he was not one to ignore indulgence. You needed him and he wanted you—so where are you?

Perched on that blue-velvet cushioned swivel stool. Sipping whatever remaining contents of your sidecar. And when he saw you, you saw him. You locked eyes and each plastered ill-intended smirks across your faces. And while you had his attention, you brought the glass to your lips, smacking them open and running your tongue along the sugar rim, collecting the sweetness on your tongue. You sucked on your tongue, rolling your eyes and he swears the “Ahh” leaving your lips is audible from his distance. He stayed still even as you slapped down your money on the counter, hopping down and disappearing into the crowd.

You make your way to him quickly, holding onto your rapidly rising chest and laughing at yourself. You were on a roll of unbelievable behavior, but it seemed to be a clean stroke because you were yet to meet a roadblock. And in a very blurry couple of minutes, the goal you’d been working toward was in the palm of your hand—literally.

You danced your way to Blade when you were finally close to him, sliding up against his body sweetly. He was tall and so sturdy against you, but he was smooth like butter as he synced to your movements and danced behind you. His hands were on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he pushed up against you. Your exchange was wordless but it spoke volumes. It felt like a dream, entirely too good to be true but you indulged anyway, grinding against him. A gasp escapes your mouth as his left hand unabashedly grapes your tit, squeezing roughly and experimentally. His other hand trails dangerously on the band of your shorts and you let your head fall back on his shoulder, “I'm your biggest fan…”

He laughs at your declaration, leaning to press his lips feather-lightly at the shell of your ear, “Are you now?” you nod immediately, pressing into him. “‘Blade owns me’.” he mocks your sign, and laughs when he feels you slightly tense under his touch.

“I picked you,” and again, he leans down to your ear, “Are you happy, slut?” The word is so mean but it sounds so good from him. You nearly moan, nodding eagerly, as if complying with his word came with a medal. You were a slut, so willing to give it up as soon as he laid eyes on you. And you weren’t afraid to go low to get his attention, doing just about anything to be his for the night.

Fangirls like you are nothing new to Blade and as a man who looks like he does, it comes with the territory. He can read you like a damn book, cover to cover with ease because despite how enigmatic and indifferent to the norm you may try to appear, you wear your whole being on your sleeve. You do everything in your power to be somebody you're not. Your life revolves around who you think you should be and not who you are. A lot of girls are born with “it”: an innate ability to be the one wanted and desired, but you? Your “it” is manufactured, the blueprint drawn out by girls who are it. You're stuck in a limbo created by your age: too old to not be settling down, but too young to not live your life, and you try to make a box for yourself, being the exception to a path laid out for you. You're lost in the life you lead, and with the way you're dancing so shamelessly and needily on him, Blade knows you. You’re the type of girl who sees getting used as a flex, and despite signing an NDA or promising to never say anything, you’ll tell this person and that person that you got to sleep with the Blade; that the Blade picked you. Women like you are a cancer in the industry. Pests that are incessant and damn near impossible to get rid of. He knows you won't be any different than those before you, but there’s a desire to take you that he cannot ignore.

It’s his natural instinct as a man—or he’s just a shitty person. Perhaps a combination of both, because all he can think about is putting you to use. You’re making it so easy, moaning into the air under the thick remixed song the DJ is spinning, grinding against him, and holding his hand on your tit—you want him, and you’re giving yourself to him on a silver platter. You have a clear lack of respect for yourself, but luckily for you, that’s Blade’s type in women.

The atmosphere seems to be getting heavier, and it feels like time is getting slow and choppy. Now your arms are around Blade’s neck and his large hands are holding onto your ass, and you’re so close, you can feel your chests brushing with each breath you take. The world around you is nothing but background. It doesn’t exist to you, it doesn't matter to you. Not when you have Blade, the literal man of your dreams, right in your palm, and all he's looking at is you.

You feel so special. So wanted and so desired. You feel all eyes on you like you're the main attraction and everybody can’t help but watch and weep, wishing to be you. Your ego is skyrocketed and every embarrassing thing you’ve done tonight doesn't matter to you anymore because it paid off. Your eyes locked and the space between you closed. Your heart synced with the booming beat of the current song playing. You lean in, pressing your hands at the back of his neck and pulling him in. And you kiss him. You kiss Blade.

Blade kisses you back. He tightens the grip on your ass and you moan into his mouth, letting him infiltrate your mouth. He sucks on your tongue, smiling against you when he feels you push up on your tippy toes and hears you whimper into his mouth. He kisses you back. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, pecking your lips once more before moving to your cheek, then to your jaw, then to your neck. His hands are groping at you, roughly grabbing your ass, then your waist, then your breasts. “Are you wet?”

He says it so only you can hear it. You nod. “How wet?” He moves back up to your jaw, placing another kiss. You flutter your lashes, meeting his gaze, “So wet. All for you.”

At your response, he groans, pulling off of you. He chuckles when you pout at him. You’re just what he needs for this night. He grabs your chin, holding your face and leaning down, your lips brushing against his own. “I'm going to go smoke.” and he tells you this for a reason.

You watch with the biggest smile on your face as he sifts through the crowd, heading out of a side door. It was now or never.

Quickly, you rush to the bathroom to freshen up. You fix your hair, digging into your pocket and fishing out your lipgloss, reapplying, and you fan yourself, cooling down to not look a flustered mess. And just as quick as you ran in, you ran out toward the side door, immediately looking both ways for Blade. You smell smoke distantly and turn right, and a few paces down he stood, leaning against the brick wall of the neighboring restaurant. He's next to stacks of old wood and crates and you smile, thinking about whatever was about to go down between you.

You step in front of him and he smiles, taking you in once again. He blows his smoke in your face, tapping the ash off the cigarette before smashing the butt into the wall behind him. “Hi,” you say. He says nothing back, just slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in. The kiss you share this time is messy and he now asserts control, nipping your bottom lip when he feels you go weak and pulls back.

He rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand for him. This is the first time all night he’s seen you properly, in moderately okay lighting. Your jean mini-skirt is tight to you, accentuating the curve and fullness of your ass, and teases what’s beneath with your plump thighs poking out and how it rides up slightly. Your skin-tight baby tank is seemingly one with your figure, bringing out the best in you and making him smile with the “I ♡ BLADE” print across your chest. Your thigh-high boots did nothing when you were near him—he was looming and caging. He was intimidating and arousing, and with the lustful gaze you shared, the climax of your day was steadily approaching.

“Take it off.” He looks down at your chest and you get the memo; immediately grabbing the hem of your tank top and pulling it over your head. “Slow. Take your time…” And you listen, letting your body swivel as you remove the shirt. You unhook the clasp of your bra, and before your boobs could spill out of the confines, he grabs you and wedged you between him and the wall he previously leaned on.

The front of your body is slapped on the cold brick, but you’re swallowed in warmth as he presses against you, grinding his hard-on against your ass. One hand grabs your wrists, and the other turns you around. You look at him innocently, shivering at the breeze that blows down the alley. You can smell him: woody, smokey, and expensive. Yet here he was, pressing you up against a brick wall in a random alley. “You’re such an easy slut, y’know.”

“Bet you been thinking about this; daydreaming about your favorite artist pinning you and trashing you like the fucking whore you are.” he presses against your front, nipping at your jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

You whimper, “Fuck me. Take me. Make me yours.”

“Tell me.” He growls - your answer not sufficing. “Want you to break me,”

“Always fantasized…wanting you to shove your dick down my throat and use it mindlessly and mercilessly.” He begins to kiss down your throat again, licking the tender skin. He smirks when you stop talking, your breath hitching and your head craning backward to open the expanse of your neck. He starts biting on your newfound sweet spot when you begin again, “Spit in my mouth and force me to swallow it with your cum,”

He gets to your chest, immediately taking a nipple between his teeth. He listens to you wince and whine as he does, pushing your chest into his face. “And make me beg you to fuck me. Teasing me…fuck—pinching me, pulling my hair until I'm teary-eyed and begging…”

“...And then you fuck me like you hate me; choking me, slapping me, degrading me all while I thank you stupidly.”

“You’re just fucking disgusting,” he mumbles around your nipple. He lets your hands go, palming your free tit immediately. His eyes are narrow as you whine when he twinges the bud roughly. “Put so much thought into this…you’re a weirdo slut.”

You shake your head, breathing out heavily to refute his claim, “Nuh-uh—your biggest fan.” you correct.

He laughs at you. You’re much more fun than he thought, and a lot less shameless, too. You're throwing all of your big cards out; this is your go-big or go-home moment, and while you have him here, you’ll bare yourself wholly because if not now, then not ever. Blade has to commend your patience though. You're letting him toy around, graze around your unknown territory and feel you out. You’re needy but obedient. Tired of waiting but understanding. Absolutely fucking shameful and proud, but eager to be good—so maybe he was wrong about you. You do have an “it”: an innate ability to be the perfect fucktoy.

When he lets you go, he immediately instructs you to get on your knees. And you listen immediately. The cold gravel digs into your bare knees and it's incredibly uncomfortable, yet you don’t utter a word. Your nipples are hard and pebbled and are probably so sensitive, yet you say nothing. You only sit before him, fingers dancing on the exposed thigh as you look up at him, waiting to be put to use.

So he slaps you. As you told him to—he slaps you, and his hand is heavy coming against your skin. It sounds off for what felt like possibly hundreds of miles, and your face doesn’t sting, but it hurts. The skin is heating up from the impact and your head turns to the side, hair falling against your face, yet you don’t utter a word. He grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him and dangerously smiling when your teary eyes look up at him wide and thankfully. “Pull my cock out,” he instructs, letting you go and standing up straight.

You get to work on his belt, undoing it swiftly, and then you unbutton his pants. You tease yourself: slowly pulling the zipper down, and when pulling his pants down to his ankles, you palm him softly, gently patting his throbbing cock and staring at the growing wet spot in his underwear. You kiss the wet spot, and then you kiss it again, and again until you suck lightly on it while making eye contact with him. You moan at the very faint taste, fluttering your eyes shut, and finally sliding your hand under the band of his underwear, holding his dick.

Blade hisses at your touch, bucking slightly into your hold at the initial contact. Usually, he’d curse you out at this point for going so slow, but he’s letting it slide this time; allowing you to take control and show him how worth it and nasty you really are.

He’s big. He’s thick—your hand can just barely wrap around the entire shaft, and as you lift him to unsheath him from his boxers, you feel how heavy he is. And hard. So fucking hard.

You gawk at his cock like a kid in a candy store, staring at his leaking slit intensely—almost as if you're waiting. “Go ahead; show me how big of a fan you are.”

You kiss his tip, the bead of precum smearing on your lips. Smacking your lips apart suggestively, you wrap your right hand around the base, applying tightness and pressure as you find the right grip, and when you do, you finally lick a clean stripe across the head. Your tongue sweeps up the new milky droplet spilling out, and you contently hum at the taste, making him groan in response. You lick from the angry tip all the way to his trimmed base, then back up again until you’ve teased every side of him and located his sensitive vein.

If anybody would have told you that all you dreamed about would be coming to fruition—all by mere luck and chance—you wouldn’t believe it. And you still don't; even as you spit a thick bead of your saliva on his cock and then massage it in with your tongue, swirling all around the sensitive head. But it’s real because he moans out for you as you finally take him in, the throb getting heavier as he sits on your tongue and your lips hug him tight.

You begin your ministrations: toying with his balls lightly as you bob up and down, going as far as you could. You tried your best to take him all in. You stretched your mouth wide around him until it felt like your mouth was going to rip at the corners and until it felt like all you could do was sputter and leak drool around him. Tears brimmed in your eyes and each time you blinked them back, keeping a pretty smile on your face every time you came up for air. Your lipgloss was mixed in with spit, and clear tear streaks had already begun to run their course with your base makeup, but you didn't stop. You were moaning incessantly, suffocating his dick in your intense vibrations that had him moaning and grunting.

When you come up from your nth deepthroat attempt, it's not for air, but to breathlessly huff out “Fuck my face…please,” And since you asked so nicely…

“Blink twice if it gets to be too much.” You open your mouth as wide as you could, sticking your tongue out. He pulls your hair back for you, yanking your head back and spitting on your tongue. His eyes tell you not to move, so you don’t, keeping eye contact with him as he wraps his other hand around your own, guiding your smaller hands up and down his shaft. He shudders, “F-fuck…’m so fuckin’ hard…”

And then he slides onto your tongue, not wasting any time before bottoming out in your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise, and your unprepared gags speak volumes to your shock. But that doesn't deter you from wrapping your lips around him. And from there, he pulls out, pulling your head back and then pushing you back down as he thrusts his hips forward. He curses under his breath before picking up his pace, thrusting so hard that his grip tightens on your hair to hold you properly in place, fucking roughly into your face. You can only choke and sputter, having already taken your hands from around his dick and digging crescent nail shapes into his thighs. The sounds eliciting from the two of you are so nasty and filthy. His balls slap at your chin, your voice rings out from around his girth, and his moans echo around the world. You can’t take it but you’re doing a great job of trying. He slaps your face again, pulling out and hitting his tip on your tongue. “Keep your fucking eyes on me,”

“If you can do that, I'll cum all down your throat and all over your pretty fucking face, okay?” You nod eagerly, and as an incredibly degrading action of praise and acceptance, he slaps his spit-slicked dick against your cheek a few times. “Good girl.” Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his praise.

When Blade slides in, he smacks against your face. He goes to the very hilt, pushing his way to the depths of your throat roughly. Your nose is pressed up against his pelvis, and your cheeks are catching stray tears. But this is consistent as he begins thrusting, using you per your request. He grunts out each time his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting so roughly and meanly into you. Again, you feel like all you can do is choke and gag, spilling slobber and precum mix back down his length. It’s fucking filthy and the loud squelching and impact noises hit your ears nastily, yet you can’t help but squirm and attempt to grind for friction to subdue the need throbbing in your clit.

Above you, the man is falling apart. His hips stutter every now and then and his voice is fucking endless. His long hair sticks to his sweaty forehead and sides of his neck, and it looks damn near intentionally placed from how beautiful he looks. The outdoor lights are like distant illuminators; glowing behind him softly—almost angelically. His eyebrows are knitted together and he struggles to keep his eyes every time he reaches the back of your throat and you start gagging. It’s beyond pleasurable. Blade isn't sure if it’s because of all the tension the two of you have built up, or if it's because he hasn't had any action in the last 3 weeks because of his neverending schedule, or if it’s because your mouth is fucking amazing, but he can't keep himself together. His chest starts heaving faster as he comes close to his high, his knees beginning to buckle, and his stomach caving.

You flick your tongue on the underside of his cock as much as you can and glue your eyes to his, seeing his release breaking him down inch by inch. “Fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!” He announces, throwing his head back.

He stills in your mouth and you take the opportunity to suck harshly on his tip, swirling your tongue around it like it’s the sweetest lolly you’ve ever tasted. He pulls out of your mouth, and you vigorously stroke his cock, so focused and determined to milk him dry. He leans forward, slapping his palm against the wall behind you for stability as he cums. He moans so prettily as he paints your face, the warm ropes making you hum contently. You give him no break, sucking his tip one last time to make sure you get the most out of what he’s given you.

Blade catches his breath, standing up straight soon after and condescendingly cooing at the mess made on your face. He picks up a glob as he sweeps his thumb over your cheek, sliding the digit in your mouth. He presses on your tongue, finding pleasure in how you swallow your sounds under a layer of gagging, but how you never tear your eyes off of him. He does this until you’ve cleaned off your face—but he's not done with you.

You're finally allowed off of your aching knees. You're sure the gravel will leave an indent from how long you were down there. He pinches your pebbled nipples, smirking as you yelp. “What was it that was next? Making you beg..making you earn my cock in you?” you nod rapidly, backing into the wall for stability as he toys with your very sensitive tits. “Show me how you beg then.”

You put your hands on his shoulders to help you stand up, feeling so weak all of a sudden. Your voice cracks as you try to speak, meek little whimpers flowing out as he works your body expertly—like he knows what gets you going. “Please…fuck–Please fuck me, I need you so bad…!”

A shrill yelp is chased out of your throat when his palm cracks against one of your boobs, “Is that all you got? Try again.”

So you do. “Need you to fuck me, Blade. I wanna be used by you, broken–please, I'll do anything!”

“Not good enough. Again.”

“Please fuck me like the slut I am! I need to be full of you, need to have you fuck me ragged and dumb so all I think of is you!” you pitch up your voice, breathing it all out in one breath.

Pitiful. Another smack. “Again.”

“I'm so needy for you, please! It hurts–I need you so much, it hurts! Please…”

And he's heard enough. His right hand slides up to your neck, forcing you against the wall. His grip is tight, fingers pressing into the sides and you have to fight for your eyes to not roll to the back of your head. “You must not want me as bad as you acted like you did…”

“I do! I do!” You interject, but your voice is weak and small—nothing in comparison to his deep and lust-saturated tone. “Then act like you do. Beg.”

He runs his other hand up your thigh, cupping your cunt. Your panties are soaked, and he can feel the heat radiating off of you. He pushes the fabric to the side, running two fingers through your folds and you swear you almost fell out then and there. You'd gone teased and untouched all night—you were beyond ready.

“Pussy is fucking soaked…” he mumbles, letting his index and middle finger twirl through your folds, getting closer and closer to your clit. “You want me here? To fuck your sloppy pussy until you're cumming your brains out?”

Your eyes start to roll and he can feel the pulse intensify in your cunt. That's exactly what you wanted. “Say it. Say ‘I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade’. Say it,”

You part your lips, and he slightly loosens the grip on your throat, “Wan–want…I want my sloppy pussy…” You get shy with your words, and he delivers a slap to your clit. The stimulation has you buckling over. You feel like his hands on you are going to be the death of you. “Say it.”

With the courage finally built up, “I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade! Please, I need it s’bad…feel like I'm gonna fucking die!” leaves your lips easily like spreading butter on toast. His lips that you never got enough of tasting quirk up into his signature smirk. He lets you go, pushing you against the wooden crates and flipping up your jean skirt.

“There you go; atta-fucking-girl.” he practically rips your panties off of you, slapping your pussy just for the hell of it. He cringes at the sound it makes and laughs cruelly at your whimpering. He presses up against you, his semi-hard dick pressed against your ass, and he wraps his arm around you and shows you the coat of your arousal that paints his fingers. ���Spit.”

With your spit and abundance of slick collected on his fingers, Blade strokes his cock, going until he’s near painfully hard. The sounds he elicits make your pussy clench around nothing, needing to be satiated so desperately. “Are you ready? There’s no going back.”

This is somehow the sweetest moment for you. Your heart swells and you can only sheepishly nod, wiggling your hips eagerly. “Never been more sure about anything in my life. Ruin me.”

Ask once more, and you shall receive once more. His cock is swiped through your folds and collects a considerable amount of your arousal. He lines up at your entrance, watching you brace yourself with a smile ingrained into his face. He pushes in with a sharp inhale, biting his tongue at the feel of your tightness. Your pussy sucks him right in and—fuck. Warm and soft and tight, he could cum right now.

Your face crinkles up and you grip tightly onto the wooden crates in front of you. You’ve dreamt of this for so long—touched yourself at night to the thought and it's finally happening. He's inside of you, stretching you out, sinking in and in and in, inch by inch until he buries himself deep in your guts, until his tight and heavy balls are touching your folds. You're so sensitive you feel like you're ready to cream already, and you need it, need him, and need more. You grind your hips back on him, exhaling thickly as you rest your head against your forearm. “So fucking ready for me…”

His hand cracks down on your ass. It hurts so well and you wince, arching your back further. He sighs, kneading your skin softly. Then he pulls out, inching out until only the tip sits idly in you. You turn around to look at him, and doing that ignites his fire.

Your face is pathetic and fucked out already. Eyebrows knitted together and your eyes heavy, hardly staying open. Your lips are parted yet folded into a small frown, and perspiration rests at your hairline. You egg him on to slam into you, and he watches your frown drop into a wide ‘o’ shape, your eyes fluttering. So he does it again. And your lip now slips between your teeth. And again. And you drop your head back onto your arms.

And so Blade keeps up this pace, gradually going faster as the pit in his stomach urges him to do so. Your sounds are now uncontrollable—they fly out of you like a skipping record, incoherent babbles, and sinful moans. Each collision of your bodies elicits a visceral, wet slap that echoes off the walls of the alleyway. People around the world could probably hear what you're doing, and you're not sure if that bothers you…if the thought of a curious passerby walking down this alley naïvely would be an issue. If anything, it makes you get louder, your throat not getting to rest.

He hits you again, groaning when your pussy clenches around him. “You’re so fucking loud– you want somebody to find us?” Yes, that is what you want to say. But you moan out louder, shaking your head no. He hits you again. “Don’t lie to me,”

“You’re a fucking painslut,” he spits at you. He wraps his arm to reach your clit, immediately finding the bud and pinching it. Your knees go weak and he stabilizes you against him by pushing you further into the crates in front of you. You sniffle and whimper, presumably spilling tears down your filthy fucking face but doing nothing but asking for more. You've gotten so wet, dripping everywhere messily and Blade only cringes his face up with each wet collision. You're so nasty, so filthy, letting a stranger who you parasocial bonded yourself to defile you in public. He's feeding into your crazed delusions, but he’d honestly rather be doing nothing else. When he pinches your clit again your body shakes. Your knees buckle again and from the waist up you're basically limp. He feels you tighten around him and he sucks his teeth, parting your ass to peer at the milky ring forming around the base of his cock. “Did you just fucking cum?” Yes, you did. And you felt like Heaven doing it.

“You came ‘cause I pinched your clit…” he does it again and you jolt up, whining for him to stop. “So if I slap it…” he slaps it, eyeing you for your reaction. “Or rub on it like I love you…” his fingers run circles on your bud, feeling you get impossibly tighter around him. “So fucking easy.”

He resumes his thrusts like he never stopped—slamming into you unapologetically and now additionally, rubbing on your cute, abused clit. He's not going to last long at this rate. Your pussy gushes around him like a running river and the noises have gotten even nastier. Squelching and the occasional puffs of air escaping…you’re a mess.

“Love this fucking cunt,” he praises while pinching your clit. His free hand that rested on the small of your back is now holding onto your neck, forcing you to stand upright against him. Blade is lean but muscular. His arms flex and you feel his abs every time your bodies get close enough. His strong thighs touch yours and it's like you feel his entire body weight every time he pushes into you. “So good, ‘s so fucking good, Blade!”

The man laughs at your outburst. He angles his hips differently, trying so hard to find your sweet spot to get you creaming again. “Yeah?” he asks, tightening his grip on your throat. “Mhm-!” you concur.

“Where?” He’s sure he's found it, and he drives his hips up, groaning happily once he feels your gummy walls contract around him. “Here?”

Your head nods rapidly. “Yes, yes, yes–fuck! Right there, oh my fucking God!”

Neither of you are going to last. Blade’s balls are so tight and the way your pussy hugs him is even tighter. You suck him in like you never want him to leave, but your over-stimulated squeals and shaking thighs suggest otherwise. He’s found your sweet spot and is recklessly abusing it, going all or nothing. The way he toyed with your clit like a kitten pawing at a toy was too much—it started to hurt, to throb endlessly as your stomach knotted and your hole drooled. His grip on your neck was the icing on the cake. You felt like you could no longer breathe — like his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you and him choking you was keeping it out. Every little thing he did pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

He was even more merciless than before. Blade fucked into you harder, rougher, and faster than before, and you chalked that up to his orgasm catching up to him. You listen to his songs on repeat all the time but never have you heard him sing more beautifully than now as he digs your pussy out. You were really blessed with this night, and now it is coming to a very eventful end.

“‘M gonna fucking cum–!” You announce, and Blade nods his head in agreement. He slaps your cunt one last time, his fingers covered in your juices now tweaking at one of your nipples. “Me…me too, fuck.”

He leans into your ear, “Make me cum in this fucking pussy,” a throaty moan breaks his sentence, and you moan back, feeling it coming. “So close, so close…!”

It's this contraction that has Blade falling apart. He thrusts into you one last time, his eyes shooting wide open as he cums deep in you. He moans gutturally and shakily, feeling you clench tighter as you orgasm as well. His hips stutter in you and your hips ride back onto him as you both come down from your highs. The alley is now deafeningly silent and you flush in embarrassment from how loud you must have been. He lets your neck and tit go, using one hand to now spread your ass and pull out his cock. Your pussy is puffy and shiny, and when he’s out, he watches with a burning gaze as your mixture of cum starts to slightly spill out.

He groans, slapping your ass one last time. You two finally separate, and you turn around to look at him. You're sure he doesn't look as fucked up as you do, but even so disheveled and fucked out and sweaty as he is, you can’t help but feel your heart flutter. He pulls up his boxers and pants, fixing his shirt before he looks over at your mostly naked frame. He comes over to you, pulling down your skirt, and his doing this makes you feel less like a one-night stand, and more like one of his girls.

Being so close to you, he breathes you in. You smell like sex, but beneath that is a layer of whatever fruity perfume you sprayed on you, and it's delectable; so he kisses you. It's something he doesn't usually do, and he wouldn't have done it for you, but you entrance him. Perhaps it's because you're what he likes— he's met his match.

But you kiss each other passionately like you were trying to reignite the flame you just spent God knows how long fucking out. Your tongues are well acquainted with one another, swirling and bumping and riding past one another knowingly. He pulls away from you, looking in your eyes as he lets spit fall onto your tongue once again. You smile happily as you swallow it—God, you could do this forever. “Come back with me,”

You didn't expect him to say that. You blink your eyes a few times in disbelief. This night can't be any more unreal. He notices your confusion and smiles, “Is that a no–”

“–No! I'll come with you!” you don't know where he’s taking you, or what it means to go with him. You do know that you’ll have a lot to tell Yukong, NDA or not, and that you’ll never forget this day.

Smiling again, this time devilishly, Blade pulls away from you, pinching your cheek. “Good girl.”

[luvkuvi]

34 – invisible string !

What's so good about him ?!

Scaramouche x reader smau series

synopsis — Your ex boyfriend kuni is in a band called 5wirl and they're pretty well known considering him and his bandmates are still in college but you still hated his guts on how he ended things with you back then in highschool the day before graduation. So whats the best course of action in this situation? make a hate account of him of course. 

prev || masterlist || next

In the dimly lit bar, the air hung heavy with the mingling scents of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The low murmur of conversations ebbed and flowed like a distant tide, punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. 

Amidst the crowd, a lone figure slumped on a barstool, his shoulders hunched and his gaze vacant. Scaramouche, drinking away his problems with his tousled hair and bloodshot eyes, nursed his whiskey with a grim determination. Each sip burned like fire as it traveled down his throat, yet he welcomed the sensation, craving its numbing embrace. 

"Stupid stupid stupid..." He slammed his shot glass, scaramouche was never a heavy drinker even though he was surprised at how much alcohol he had consumed. He began to replay memories in his mind mostly memories with y/n, he didn't know if it was the alcohol making him think these but he felt himself losing it in this self-pity party he made for himself 

As the night wore on, Scara's movements became increasingly unsteady, his speech slurred and disjointed. He waved off concerned looks from the bartender and fellow patrons with his signature scowl, insisting that he was fine, that he could handle his liquor. But the truth was evident in the glassy emptiness of his eyes, betraying a soul drowning in sorrow and regret. 

With each drink, Scaramouche sought solace in the swirling depths of alcohol, hoping to drown out the memories that haunted him, if only for a fleeting moment. "This isn't working" he muttered to himself standing up to use the bathroom before driving around to clear his thoughts, he wasn't sure himself. 

As Scaramouche made his way through the crowded bar, his mind consumed by the urgent need to find the bathroom and leave, he suddenly collided with someone, nearly spilling the drink the other person had in the process. Looking up, he froze in disbelief as he found himself face to face with the reason why he was there in the first place 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise before a cold mask of indifference settled over their features. "Scaramouche," they said, their voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. 

"Y/n..," he replied, his voice catching in his throat. Memories of their tumultuous relationship flooded his mind, and he struggled to find the right words to say. 

Notes: what ef i leave w this cliffhanger(this is the first time they've met in 3 ish years)

Taglist ! (Open): @sakiimeo @sagegreenthinks @evsolostheuniverse @mizokowashere @mechanicalbeat1  @bananasquash @wolfe02 @msameikanevaeh @yukiipc @magica-ren @r0ttenhearts @vvyeislazzy @yuumaofc   @darthvada @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @yoyo-yui @thenightsflower   @lazy-sanns @sukunasrealgf @danhenglovebot @sketcheeee  @featuredtofu @mine-lu @karma-gisa @amyena @onmywaytoteyvat @fujimoribaby @eliqusgenma   @buubbbbly   @reekapeeka @elernity @kunikissr @miko1ly @feverish-dove @pomeiu @kascar-chronicle @otomegame-oneshots @kiokiee @swivy123

[themeasureofasim]

Here's two different replacements for the base game lab coats because @episims and I seem to have no self control.

First option: umbodylabcoat (TM-EM) replaced with an open lab coat, to match my ufbodylabcoat default. It's a mashup of @deedee-sims 3t2 Esmeralda's Coat and @mdpthatsme 4t2 Pants Dress, with textures by Trapping, Rope and Epi (who made the white coat texture, and also made pockets! 🤩). Around 4K polys (for reference, Maxis lab coat has 2K); has fat morph, but no preg morph.

Download v1: SFS | MEGA Special thanks to Lifa for the age conversion WSOs.

Second option: umbodylabcoat (TM-EM) and ufbodylabcoat (TF-EF) replaced with MDP 4t2 Doctors and @moyokeansimblr age conversions, with new recolours by Epi. Original default is by @lottie-sims but it was for adults only, and replaced only one (out of two) of the AF recolours. Meshes are 4-5K polys and both genders are included in the same package. All morphs.

Download v2: SFS | MEGA

An addon to the replacement above: umbodymadscientist (AM-EM) and ufbodymadscientist (AF-EF) replaced with another recolour of 4t2 Doctors, which is *checks notes* 4t2 GP07 Scientist. Also by Epi! This one is referenced to the labcoat replacement (meshes and shoes texture), so you will need that one (v2).

Download addon: SFS | MEGA

And finally: two versions of the same mod, by Epi. Originally, the two recolours of the lab coat were assigned to sims according to their career level. With this mod (both v1 and v2), sims on the Medicine career will use one of the recolours (green top/shirt if you use these defaults), and sims on the Science career will use the other one. The alternative version of the mod (v2) also makes theorists in the Science career use the mad scientist outfit. Apparently, theorists used to wear some leather jacket? Thank you, Maxis.

Download mod: v1 (SFS) | v2 (SFS) 💥 Choose only one version of the mod (they're clearly labelled). 💥 These mods can be used with these replacements, any other replacement, or no replacement (Maxis lab coats).

That's all, folks! I feel like I have fulfilled my duty as a scientist now XD. In case you can't tell for all the cute Foxfire sims, previews are also by Epi! We hope you enjoy this mess 🧪🔬

[useyourwordsdarling]

Hey, I hope this isn't too rude considering you already have an effing mountain of asks in your inbox, but I wanted to express my gratitude. No pressure to respond; I just hope you see it, and it makes you smile. Just read the pink out of this word salad; my kink is that I feel the need to explain my reasoning like a proper STEM idiot.

(below explaining why I'm thanking you essentially)

Probably oversharing here, but:

For the last two years or so, I've started to believe that the only men who would accept me were those that needed me as their therapist rather than a partner. I don't mean just listening to them; I mean them struggling with mental health crises and me having to pick up the pieces like the empathetic dumbass I am (and them being too scared to call the hospital). These are just the sort of people I seem to attract. As you can imagine, that did wonders for my self-worth and future perception of people who hit on me.

I already consider myself an eccentric woman. Among other things, my libido often feels insatiable. I write smut both on and off tumblr, the latter of which is some of the most nonsensical, most embarrassing, most bizarre shit I have ever written. 783 pages since 2020, the last 100 pages of which have been me realizing I have a deep-seated desire to be a cocksleeve. It's hard enough to tell people how much I care about having a healthy, passionate sexual relationship without bringing any of that into the mix.

(end explanation, TL;DR I attract shitty men and am insecure as hell about my own sexual preferences.)

All of that has made me despair on numerous occasions that I will ever get to know someone who both actually loves me and wants to fuck the absolute shit out of me.

But blogs like yours have lifted me out of that hellhole of anxiety more than once. Seeing both your own fantasies and the way you respond to your asks makes me feel like I'm not doomed to a relationship where I will have to sacrifice a large part of myself for the other person's sake. It makes me think: "People like this exist somewhere."

Thank you for being a dom that cares about your sub, and thank you for sharing on this blursed platform where I could see you.

Side (less wholesome) note: Yes, you have provided a lot of fuel for my smut pieces, and I am officially blaming you for the fact that there are now 446 fucking instances of the word "Daddy" in my most recent collection.

I appreciate how much effort you put into making this. And as another STEM idiot I love the way you made your reasoning. Also to be clear I love asks, I just have a hard time replying to many at once, but I appreciate them a lot.

And as to you attracting shitty men, I understand how exhausting and how heavy it might be the burden to carry the responsibility over someone’s mental health issues. But I think that also says a lot about your character, how you’re someone who’s really caring. Who wants to help these people, which is an amazing thing but it can be problematic if you don’t set boundaries. Which is a hard thing to do (I know because I’m bad at that…) it’s healthy to focus on your own mental health, your own problems. Especially when we have very little energy left.

And you aren’t doomed for that type of relationship I believe. And I hope you eventually find the right person who’ll love you and not make you responsible over their mess (and also fuck the shit out of you, fingers crossed). So it’s just a matter of time

Side (even less wholesome) note: I’d be lying if I said part of me isn’t curious about those 446 instances now..

[srbachchan]

DAY 6017

Jalsa, Mumbai Aug 8, 2024/ Aug 9 Thu/Fri 1:08 am

🪔 ,

August 09 .. birthday greetings to Ef Bhagyashree Kolangde .. Ef Bhopal .. and Ef Kunal .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

and the wishes for a lovely day filled with happiness and joy .. from the Ef family .. 🌺

"ग़ुब्बारों का लेकर ढेर ; देखो आया है शमशेर ,

हरे बैंजनी लाल सफ़ेद ; रंगों के हैं कितने भेद " ....

~ बाबूजी की एक बच्चों के लिए लिखी गई कविता, अचानक आज याद आ गई, जब हाथ में शूटिंग के दौरान ग़ुब्बारे पकड़ा दिए गए

the day endeth at the end of the day .. and the work remained long but filled with friends and friendly environs ..

some work schedules take exceptionally long hours leaving one very little time to get involved in anything else that we may want to pursue ..

in a freak moment , a moment at the GENESIS , gave rise to some 'key pressings' of the white and the black .. and what normally prompts one to switch on the LogicX , in order to document the unrehearsed, impromptu, un learned music notes , were lost .. not for any other reason, but at times it makes it conscious that a recording is on and the natural instincts fail .. pity .. !

But soon there shall be an opportunity to get back to the notes 🎶 and spend valiant time with the self ..

However .. at the reading of the रामायण, this morning , read such an interesting verse :

.. some pencil markings are of Babuji's .. and must have had a reason .. this रामायण was his .. and it became mine after his passing ..

I did have my own .. but his has greater divinity ..

be well and in care .. 🚩

Amitabh Bachchan

[hulhudhonado]

The Moment They Fell For You (3)

Synopsis: Short stories about the moment in time that the character fell in love with reader. Continuation of Sumeru characters.

CW: Mentions of being hurt

HC: Reader is gender neutral and does not have a vision. Reader is a doctor (Tighnari) and a Trader/Merchant (Candace)

Characters: Tighnari, Candace

Note: I already started with Sumeru characters, I might as well finish them all before I go to the next region. After this there will only be two more post for the Sumeru characters which will hopefully have Wanderer, Layla, Kaveh and Faruzan. Also this one was not my proudest work. Hopefully I will either re-write this or make better stories for these two, they deserve the world. Spoilers for the story in Tighnari's section. Anyway, enjoy.

Tighnari

Tighnari was known for being self-sufficient. He made his elixirs and medicine for not only others but for himself as well. At this point everyone was certain that he could have easily got the title of a doctor if he pursued it, however, as humble of a person he was, he refused to be a forest ranger stationed at Gandharva Ville. Which leads to you now, feeling useless.

  You, unlike him, actually had the title of a doctor. You were also stationed at Gandharva Ville alongside the team. However, at this point, almost everyone tended to go to him for help rather than you. You still got your pay but was it worth it if it meant you would have to always be second to him? It was humiliating, to say the least.

  You tried to not let it get to you. You were a doctor, it was your job to attend to those when they needed it and you knew even if they didn’t like you, you couldn’t refuse service unless deemed otherwise. So anytime someone had shown displeasure of having you treat them rather than the saint of the forest rangers, you just suck it up and try your best. You wouldn’t say your abilities were lacking either, especially since you were trained to do this for almost years. Tighnari praised your abilities constantly. However, Tighnari himself had such a great reputation, a couple of good words couldn’t replace the original.

  Even if the group never acknowledged you as the official doctor, in the written agreements you were considered to be one, therefore you always had to be near at least one active team at all times. This usually meant you were patrolling with Tighnari. He made sure you kept your distance, which meant it was usually you trailing behind him, watching him be cool and in action while you sat on a log counting how many boar shrooms go past you during that time.

  Tighnari also being so perfect at taking care of himself, even if he was hurt he already had the tonics made to heal himself after battles, rendering you once again useless to the team. The last straw was when he decided that he wanted to try random mushrooms around the Sumeru forest, against your better judgment, and somehow managed to live through it without your assistance. At this point you decided that maybe you were not needed in this team, beginning to write your official request to change teams.

  Only mid-way through writing your letter, you were taken to Pardis Dhyai for another request. It seemed one of the scholars, Haypasia was infected with a maddening disease and now had to be taken care of specially. You sighed, shoving the half-written letter into your pocket to follow Tighnari to the location.

_ _ _

  When you met her you were certain she must have caught a horrible disease. She kept going on and on about contacting the divine being and you couldn’t wrap your head around the rest of the nonsense she kept spewing out. To keep both you and Tighnari’s minds at ease, you conjured a sleeping tonic to rest her mind.

  “Efficient as always. Hopefully, she will calm down after she wakes up.” Tighnari praised you. You let out a light laugh, a sudden guilt in your chest. He never said anything bad about your work, it felt wrong leaving just because others couldn’t see your effort. However, he was the source of why you were having such an issue so you weren’t sure what to do about it.

  Sudden noises began to be heard outside. You watch Tighnari, his ears up and alert, watching the door attentively. “Keep away from the main entrance, I need to get rid of some unwanted guests, “ He said on his way out. You nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you.

  It was now just you and an unconscious Haypasia in the building. You sat at the edge of the bench she lay on, pulling out the letter once more. You began to finish off your letter.

  “Dear Grand Sage,

It has come to my attention that the forest patrol at Gandharva Ville is sufficient enough with staff that they do not need my services in the area. Therefore I would like to transfer to a patrol station in another area that may require my services.

If evaluation or proof is needed, I will be happily willing to provide a date and time for it.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Best Regards,-”

  Just as you were about to sign off your letter, you heard Haypasia stir in her sleep, mumbles of panic in her voice. You immediately stood up, dropping the letter in your hand. Either she was suffering ailments from the disease or the medicine, either way, you needed to get her a soothing medication as soon as possible.

  You looked around for your medical bags only to realize that Tighnari must have taken them with him to meet his “guests.” You bite your lip, hesitantly looking for anything you could do. 

“I’ll try to come back as soon as possible, stay strong.” You whisper to Haypasia, before running out of the room to find supplies. You hoped nothing wrong would happen during that time.

_ _ _

  You were only gone for a couple of minutes at most however the minute you returned the only view your eyes laid on was now a stable Haypasia and an injured Tighnari. He sat on a mechanical crab, wincing horribly. You decided now wasn’t the time to question the crab, and immediately rushed to him.

  “Are you alright?! What happened?!” You yell out. For once he wasn’t preparing something to cure his pain, which meant it must have been something severe or incurable. He let out a slight chuckle, trying not to cringe from the pain.

  “Our guests just gave me a present. Not a pleasant one but they insisted I have it.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. Being rewarded with a harsh glare from you, he sighed. “I was struck by lightning.”

  Your jaw dropped, and so did the medical supplies in your hands. “WHAT?!” You yelled once more. You could feel tears form in your eyes. He looked at you worriedly, trying to extend an arm towards you, only to be stopped by the pain worsening. “Don’t you dare try to comfort me when you’re the one like this!” You reply with a sharp tone which made the ears on his head flick down, almost like a sad little cat who was being scolded.

You looked at the crab. “Put him down on the bench please.” You command. To both you and Tighnari’s surprise, it followed your orders, gently guiding him towards the nearest empty bench.

  “Hey, you're supposed to follow my commands,” Tighnari mumbled. You rolled your eyes before sitting down next to him, motioning to your lap. “Put your head down, you need rest. The bench is rough so you can lay your head on my lap instead.” Tighnari looked at your lap and back to you. 

  “Now.” He slowly laid down on your lap, trying not to cause more damage to his wounds.

“There is no treatment for being struck by lightning from what I learned, however, if you rest enough you can use your vision to counter any elemental energy inside you.” You wipe any tears from your eyes before they got worse. “I’m sorry I can’t help you, like always.” You mumble, gently pushing his hair out of his face, petting his head.

  Tighnari on the other hand couldn’t rest, he wasn’t even sure the words you spoke were registering in his mind. Your hand felt like heaven especially when his body was in such pain. All he could was stare at you as you tried your best not to cry. He didn’t expect you to react this badly when he got hurt. Especially since you had seen him get hurt before.

  You glared at him once more, placing your hand over his eyes to cover it up. “Go to sleep, you idiot.” No matter how hard his heart was beating, he still somehow managed to slowly go to sleep. The feeling of your hands stroking his head was still faintly in his mind.

_ _ _

  It was no surprise Tighnari recovered perfectly fine. Vision users had a special talent to heal at a faster rate than normal individuals. However, one aspect of Tighnari had changed and that was the fact whenever he got injured or hurt he asked for your help. This included minor injuries.

  You weren’t sure what triggered this change but it made things a lot easier for you knowing that you were still needed by the camp. His sudden change also meant the team was also opening up to be treated by you. You almost forgot that you had even tried to write a letter to switch patrol areas.

  Tighnari didn’t forget though. The day he was injured he caught a glimpse of the letter peaking through the bushes from where you had dropped it. He saw you carry it around multiple times so he had assumed it was important, keeping it with him until he got better. He didn’t mean to peak, you just had not closed it up at the time.

  He disapproved of the contents of the letter and definitely didn't want you to follow through with what was written, especially since something clicked in his subconscious mind that day he got hurt. So he had been holding on to it without even thinking of handing it back.

  He liked being efficient and getting things done on his own accord, but if being treated by you meant you would stay longer by his side, he was willing to play sick all day. He just hoped you wouldn’t catch on until he could confess.

Candance

Candace rarely stepped foot outside of her village. It was the world she only knew to say the least. Looking after the village as a guardian since the mere age of 8 meant she wasn’t one to travel outside often. She was almost certain she had not stepped out of Sumeru at any point in her life.

  Yet you were quite the opposite. The minute you were old enough to travel you already headed your way to Liyue, far from her reach. How was she going to protect you if you left? She wasn’t sure and it made her nervous. Every day you were gone she wondered whether you would ever come back. She had no way of knowing.

You always did come back. A bag full of various items from all over the world. You started to make a living from it, trading items from region to region. It suited your free-spirited nature. You didn’t only bring items for trading of course. You brought gifts for the village, this of course included Candace.

_ _ _ 

Candace made her rounds around the village It was a typical work day for her. Then she heard the jingle of bells and the footsteps of sumpter beasts coming nearby. Immediately she headed towards the entrance. Of course, it was you, with your bag full of trinkets and your body covered in bandages.

  Candace stopped in her tracks. Bandages. You didn’t dress up like that. She watched as you limped towards her, a grimace on your face that only made her eyes grow wide. She ran up to you, holding you up for support while you tried to catch your breath. “Ha, tough trip this time.” You try to joke. Candace was having none of that.

  She immediately picked you up bridal style, to which you could only respond with a yelp. Leaving your supplies and sumpter beasts in the sand, she ran to her house. She should have convinced you to never leave the village. Look at the state you ended up in. This could have all been prevented if you stayed by her side in the village where she could take care of you.

  She ignored you as you kept telling her you were fine. All she could think was how stupid she was to agree to let you go over and over again. She dropped you on the bed, rushing towards her dresser to get more bandages and medicine. 

  “You don’t need to bandage me again, I did an ok job!” You whine, showing off your bandages to her. Candace sighed, returning with the medical equipment. “Oh please, when was the last time you replaced them? I bet you wore the same wraps the entire trip.” You pouted, flopping onto the bed in defeat.

  “Sit up, I need to change them.” You face away from her, arms crossed. “You think of me as a baby. I’m a grown-ass adult!” You mumble, refusing to look her way. Candace was certain she was going to sigh away all the life in her body having to deal with you. “Well someone needs to protect you. Look at you. Every time you come back you’re worse than before, covered head to toe in scars and blood! It’s almost like you have a death wish.”

  You finally peak over your shoulder. You looked at Candace, who continued to have a pained expression on her face. You could see her shake. Frustration? Sadness? It didn’t matter because she was not enjoying it.

  “Why do you have to leave me here and run away? Do you want to die? The minute I look away you’re always gone off to someplace else and I can’t go with you. How am I supposed to protect you when you keep leaving? One day you’re going to end up dead and I won’t even know what happened to you.”

  You sat up, hand digging into your pocket. “Candace.”

  “I’m so tired of this, you have always been so reckless. Did you forget this was your home? Did you find something so incredible out there that you forget? Why do I bother at this point, it’s not like you care.”

  Candace wasn’t sure what was coming out of her mouth at this moment. She was always so rational and careful with her words. She would never say things like this, always keep such thoughts to herself. You somehow managed to make it all spill out. “Candace..” You say once more, pulling out a box from your pocket. You stood up now, facing her.

  “What now? You’re going to leave again? Did you come here to stop by before going off on your next journey? Where to? Fontaine? Mondstadt? Hell, I heard Inazuma opened up recently, you can go there and leave me alone again.”

  You grabbed the supplies out of her hand, tossing them on the bed. You reached out and grabbed one of her hands. “I got you a gift.” You placed the box in her hand. She looked at you, unphased. You gave her the softest smile you could, helping her open the box to see the contents inside.

  “It’s earrings. It’s a pretty rare stone, it’s blue when you look at it, but when you put it up to the light it reflects a yellow tint. It reminded me of your eyes.” You say you enclose the box in her hand. You reached for her other hand and grasped them ever so.

  “Candace,” You smiled as she looked at you, almost dazed. “Even if I ever end up with all my bones broken, I am certain I will always end up finding my way towards you. I have seen almost every crevice of Teyvat, and I would still end up in Aaru Village by your side.”

  You grip her hands tighter, your eyes not leaving her even for a second. A small gentle smile on your face made her heat up. Had you always looked so mature? When did you become so different? You were pouting like a child a minute ago. She always thought you were careless, always lost in your world of adventures. But here you were, looking at her as if she was the world to you.

  You finally break the staring match, looking down at her hands. “Look at you, worried about my scars when you’re as bad.” You loosen your grip, now circling the scars and calluses on her hand. It felt electrifying.

  You let her hands go and she felt cold, your touch made her feel too complete and it confused her. You looked at her once more, she watched the way your eyes were shining. She could only feel how amazing it felt, how wonderful it was that you looked at her in such a light. “Don’t worry about me. You already have a village to take care of, that’s already a big responsibility. Let me help you instead.”

  Standing up, you began to make your way towards the door, only stopping near the entrance to turn back to her. “Now come outside, I got gifts for everyone and sumpter beasts to feed.” with that, you began to make your way out the door.

  But, Candace couldn’t stand up. Her usual strength drained. Her legs felt like jelly and she could feel her heartbeat still unsteady. She felt cold but when she raised a hand to her cheek she could still feel the heat. 

  She looked down at the earrings in her palms. All your gifts were usually kept in her cupboard. You always gifted her such precious items, too valuable considering how she works. However this time, she wore them, taking off her old ones and placing what you had given on. She stood up using the bed as support and hobbled towards the mirror on the dressing table. The earrings shined just as you had told her, blue with a tint of yellow.

  She hoped you kept your promise to protect Aaru village with her. She also planned on making sure you take responsibility for what you had done to her that day.

[kenlvry]

Hi there I same you writing for South Park and I wanted to put in a request, how would the main 4 (separate) when their gf gets hurt/in a fight?

Also love how you write them sm

-orchrid anon

how the main 4 would react when their gf gets hurt in a fight

note: HELLO ORCHRID ANON, you sound so sweet, thankyou for the complement i hope you enjoy this one! tw: slight sa in cartmans

⊰⁠⊹ฺ

kenny mccormick

it was lunch and kenny and others was talking about the new game thats about to launch in a couple weeks, stan then asked kenny if you and bebe has been fighting lately.

he was quite confused and asked why he said that, "dude didn't you see? the entire class the both of them was staring at each other as if they wanted to rip each others hair out" kyle chimed into the convo, apparently the whole class noticed it, kenny was focused on something else during class so he didn't notice anything.

all of the sudden some other 4 graders was running outside, cartman asked what was going on and the 4th grader said bebes hair is getting ripped out by you

kenny was shocked af, you weren't the type to get into fights because of how you always forgave people. if bebe did something to you so much to the fact you would fight her makes him worried.

all of them rushed outside to see a big circle and in the middle with you and bebe ,you had your hair tied up with loose hair strands. your lips was bleeding and so was your eyebrow. you cheek was swollen, but if you look at bebe she was a thousand times worse.

you were sitting on top of bebe punching her and kenny knew if he didn't get involved bebe would be dead by the time the fight ended, kenny pulled you away from the fight with you trying to kill that bitch. he quickly took you home despite still being school hours

"what the fuck happened babe? if someones been bothering you, you could've tell me i can handle it" (because of his alter persona being mysterion) "that bitch was talking about my mom being a whore and effing her dad, how could i not get mad???" kenny settled you down on your bed for you to blow some steam off on your pillow.

coming back with the first aid kit he treated your wounds and bruises with you moaning abt it not hurting and wanting to continue fighting. "babe next time dont hurt your precious face like this, just tell me okay? i dont want you to be in trouble"

he was really sweet for comforting you and you calmed down. you kissed him for thanks "damn, do that again but longer" you laughed and so did he. he ended up staying over and listened to you ranting to him about how fucked up bebe is, you two cuddled and watched some movie knowing tmr you'd get sent to mr mackeys for fighting and ditching school . kenny also made a mental note to visit bebe tonight.. <3

stan marsh

school ended and you stan and the others promised to go play at your house, some of the girls called you out, they waited long for you outside of school and cartman was not having it, about 5 minutes later you came out the door

but it seemed like you got into a fight, your hair was a mess and your face was fucked up, even your coat and scarf was missing, you looked like you could have frost bite any second.

the four of them rushed over to ask millions of questions, while being questioned stan realized you were freezing and gave you his coat, he'd rather him being cold than you, now back to questioning.

"what happened dude? you look like shit" you explained that apparently when wendy and the other girls called you to the playground to "talk" it was about stan, wendy was not happy stan broke up with her for you, when you arrived they were wendy and her cronies surrounding you, "what did i tell you about touching stan y/n?! dont fuck with me!"

they all jumped you trying to fuck up your face so stan would loose feelings for you, what they didn't know though was you could take all of them while sleeping, you were a black belt and your dad always taught you self defense, you easily took them. you should've known that wendy had ill intentions towards you.

when stan heard all of this he was fuming he wanted to go in and beat all of them up, luckily he doesn't fight women (unless necessary) kyle and the others was also mad af, you told them to deal with it tmr because all you wanted to do was go home and play some games or wtv.

the next day stan marched right up to wendy, and wow did you handle her.her face was wayyy worse than you, stan almost laughed. anyways he yelled at her on how stupid of it for her to fight you just because they broke up. it got heated real fast, stan ended it with saying "well fuck you wendy, after this don't even think i'd even consider you as a friend!!" he wanted to say so may things but if he did even you would be mad at him.

he'd take care of you until your wounds and bruises gets better, when you do anything he'd act like a whole mother. after this wendy always glared and didn't dare touch you.

kyle broflovski

when he heard you got into a fight he couldn't believe it like "y/n??? y/n l/n??? my girlfriend y/n??" "oh my fucking god yes" he was waiting for you outside the counselors office (with the other of course), it took really long and it sounded like you and whoever it was, was arguing inside.

it ended with a loud sigh from mr mackey and telling the both of you to get out. you came out with your hands in your pockets looking annoyed, you had a tissue up you nose, your eyebrows was bleeding and you had a small cut on your forehead. they were shocked at the state of your face. then the girl that you fought came out. it was a random 4th grader the others haven't meet before, apparently it was the new kid.

you told them that she had moved to the house infront of you and caused havoc, she'd throw eggs at your window and rocks at your bedroom windows, would also ask you to come over just to ask you to clean up her house! you told your parents but they would never catch her in the act. you punched her one day not wanting to deal with the shit she puts you through and she promised the next time she saw you it was on. you just didn't know it'd be at school.

you sigh knowing you have to deal with your parents later. kyle immediately took you the school nurse getting bandages for your wounds and a ice pack for whatever he thought its for. he didn't knew how to do anything but tried so hard, so precious. he told you to stay still and wouldn't have to lift a finger because he and the others can handle it.

the new kid was introduced and everyone knew what she did, you were a very famous lovable person, everyone loved you. wendy rolled her eyes at her knowing what she did to you. everyone ignored her. even when she was being introduced nobody was paying attention, they were just playing. she was mad to say the least, she thought everyone would love her esp kyle bc she took a liking to him!!

when you came back from the nurses office everyone greeted you. asking if your ok and if you need help. the new kid looked pissed at the sudden fame you got. you asked kyle what happened and he told you that not only he told everyone what happened between you two, he spread rumours about her, telling everyone she was someone who'd steal everyones mans and how she liked to steal things

you laughed at his efforts and also didn't know he could be such a gossip girl you kissed him to show thanks, the year continued with the new kid having 1-2 friends just because she was a bitch to you <3

eric cartman

him and three others was at his house waiting for you so they can go and play basketball. while on your guys way to his house some 6th grader called you over, you did and told them to go ahead and wait for you. it was well past 20 minutes now and they re getting bored.

"dude where is your girlfriend? she's taking forever omgg" "i dont know geez" suddenly you burst open the door making them all jump. you were out of breath and looked horrible , your hair looks like you haven't showered in years, your cheek was swollen and your coat had a tear in it, "dude what the fuck happened" "yeah you okay?" you were in tears.

the 6th grades asked to borrow 100$ which you didnt have so you refused but they wanted it now, you told them you didnt have them, you were getting real scared and wanted to run away, you looked behind you to see if it was okay to run or if there was someone you can call for help when all of the sudden someone grabbed you shoulder and demanded the 100$, he grabbed strands of your hair and kissed it saying that you can pay with something else winking at you. the other two 6th graders just laughed and you punched him, you were grossed out. they were shocked, the other 6th grader punched you and it was a full on fight, you could handle two of them but the other was too strong, you just ran off to cartmans house scared.

after you told the story cartman wanted to go and burn the 6th graders house but he hold it in "dont worry, i got this" cartman said to your crying figure on the couch and left the house. you looked dumbfounded but wtv.

(the 6th graders pov)you went home after getting beaten up by some lousy girl, you made sure to make a mental note to meet her tmr. going up the stairs to greet your pet bird, he was your fav thing in the world, you lov- hes dead. what the fuck, your room was trashed, all of your clothing was torn apart and on the floor was a note written on it was (fuck your 100$ bitch) .............

when cartman got back he told everyone to go home and to just play tmr, except you of course you can stay, he acted all tough but he was actually so worried for you, he treated to your bruises immediately, he was surprisingly good, the next day the 6th graders didnt bother you, infact they were scared of you, whatever cartman did you were so thankful

you kissed him and hugged him, he cringed and made puking noises but he loved it, you both knew <3

hope you liked it, cartmans is a bit messy cz i got tired halfway writing all of this sorry!!

[toastofthetrashfire]

Shadow the Series and Hamlet

Okay so after finishing the first half of Shadow there’s so much to unpack. So instead of doing the research I should be doing for my dissertation, let’s dig into some connections between literature and BL once again!

This won’t be a fully formed meta, and I’ll probably have to make a whole other post once the whole series is out. But I wanted to start thinking about how the show is dialoguing with and speaking to similar themes as Hamlet within a queer framework.

I thought I’d work my way through some different interpretations of Hamlet and connect back to Shadow. To be clear, I’m working with scholarship on Hamlet rather than any personal interpretation of Hamlet itself (which I unfortunately haven’t read or watched in many a years).

A quick summary

Hamlet and Shadow via Freud's Oedipal Complex

Hamlet and Shadow via Lee Edelman's work on queerness, the death drive, and queer time

Hamlet and Shadow via self-recognition and resistant readings

A few other directions

Hamlet and the Oedipal Complex

Back in 1897, Freud wrote about Hamlet in a letter to a friend noting that “falling in love with the mother and jealousy of the father…[was] a universal event of early childhood.” So Hamlet was one of the texts that Freud was thinking about when he came up with the Oedipal complex as a concept.

You may be asking, as I often do, who gives a fuck what Freud thought? Well over time, Freudian interpretations of the play highly influenced how it was performed and the ways that themes about subjectivity and sexuality were portrayed.

The 1948 and 1990 film adaptations in particular put stress on a sexually charged dynamic between Hamlet and his mother Gertrude. The later film has Hamlet lying on top of and wrestling with his mother before they kiss. More recent adaptations tend to move away from this, but, overall, it’s been extremely influential in terms of how the play has been interpreted and adapted.

So how does this come up in Shadow? 

Dan’s role as Hamlet is closely framed around his relationship with his father who he beats up in the dream world right before his death. We’re introduced to Dan’s dad during his audition for Hamlet. Perhaps in the most obvious parallel, Dan recites Hamlet’s lines as he goes to find his father’s ghost. And of course, this is when Dan’s dad appears as a ghost as well.

Yet, Dan’s narrative with his father seems to buck the expected relationship between father and son. Throughout the play, Hamlet struggles between a desire to fulfill his filial duty and avenge his father and the increasing violence and tragedy this brings. But Dan? In the face of abuse, he chooses to defiantly reject his father and filial piety, accepting and even wishing for his death. In many ways, Dan’s dad is more analogous to Claudius, the usurper and man trying to kill Hamlet. Through his abuse he loses the right to be Dan’s father. 

A shallow oedipal reading of Hamlet, frames Claudius as the father Hamlet is trying to kill, but ignores that this dynamic is born from Claudius’ cruelty. By acknowledging abuse, power, and violence Shadow perhaps takes an interesting step away from a pure Freudian reading. Because ultimately Dan doesn’t want to be his father! In fact, as he speaks with him and beats him up, we can see the way Dan is shaken, not by the act of harming or killing his father, but by the idea of becoming him. His father makes clear that “becoming him” is aligned with ideas about what it means to be a man, to be “the father” within a straight patriarchal society. And in a beautiful moment of clarity and defiance as they discuss what love looks like, Dan clarifies that his mom left his father not him. 

Okay so he "kills" his dad, what about his mom?

To be honest, when I was wrapping up my watch of the episodes, my head went towards the oedipal theory as a crack theory. What if the ghost is his mom, that’d be pretty effed up lol...But now that I’ve seen that the connection isn’t just one I made, it doesn’t seem as far fetched. The scenes between Hamlet and Gertrude in the 1990s film certainly could be an influence on the shadow getting sexual if they went that route. But to be honest I don’t really think they’ll go this way. Or at least I hope not. They’re already doing more nuanced things with the oedipal dynamic. Plus I think there’s more going on if we turn to queerer interpretations anyway.

The Death Drive, Queering Freud, and Queer Time

In Freud’s work, he talked about two opposing forces. The first was the death drive (later termed Thanatos by later psychoanalysts). This was a drive toward destruction that stood opposite to eros or life-producing drives such as sex, survival, and reproduction. 

Now, in 2004, queer theorist Lee Edelman would come in and queer the heck out of these concepts. I’ll be over simplifying Edelman’s points a lot here, but hopefully the core will remain. 

Edelman would point out that the life-drive was often weaponized rhetorically, politically, and socially as a way to reproduce cultural norms. Edelman often writes about "the Child"--that is the mythical idea of a child that we should be building society and the future for. Think of how often the “think of the children” rhetoric gets used in anti-queer politics, for example. In fact, Edelman points to oedipal readings of Hamlet as one way that dominant straight society has attempted to manage a narrative where reproduction and futurity are foreclosed. Oedipal readings of Hamlet, then, could be seen as an attempt to suppress the death drive, to put it out of sight where it can’t cause disruption or anxiety.

Of course, Edelman also notes that the death drive is inherently tied to and projected onto queerness and queer people–onto “those abjected as non-reproductive, anti-social, opposed to viability, and so as threats to the Child who assures and embodies collective survival”. And so, Edelman argues that queer people should embrace the death drive and queer time–that is non-futurity and non-linear, non-productive time. 

So how might these ideas be showing up in Shadow so far?

I might think of even more later, but here’s a short list:

1. All three of our main characters are abjected. Nai is gay, Trin is gay and mentally ill, and Dan is potentially both. I think we could argue that the connection all three of them have to death also quite literally marks them as abjected. And perhaps we could consider how the supernatural elements thematically and symbolically connect to their alterity and the way this is in conflict with social norms. In fact, I’d argue that, unlike Nai and Trin who are explicitly stated to be queer and/or mentally ill, Dan’s alterity is playing out through this more allegorical channel so far. 

2. Literal death as a central focus. 

3. Haunting as a limbo between past and present. This liminality feels very queer here.

4. The idea of vengeful ghosts makes the death drive perpetually present in a way that haunts futurity. Interestingly Edelman describes the death drive as a “negativity that haunts the social order” and which is “projected onto those who occupy the position of the queer.” Haunting has very queer thematic possibilities. 

5. Think of the ghost story told in the market in episode seven. The homophobia on display clearly ties queerness to death in a way that speaks to straight norms and anxieties. 

6. Dan is told by the monk that what is happening has to do with overlapping time frames: past, present, and future

7. Dan often loses his sense of what is real or a dream, but he also has moments where he loses his sense of time and temporality. Notice how when the art statue fell and he saw his classmates dead we jump back to before he even spoke with Nai. It’s not just losing time but jumping back and forth. 

8. Sexy times with a shadow monster are certainly non-(re)productive 

9. We learn that Trin has been trying to change things, disrupt the social norms, but he is shut down and told the school needs to hold onto tradition. While we often think of tradition as referring to the past, it is very much about continuing and reproducing this into the future. School director: "But think of the future Children who won’t get to experience the epic highs and lows of high school hazing”

10. There seems to be a tension at play between Brother Anurak who is trying to get Dan to just stop believing in the shadow (not sure if that's his actual motive but still) and Dan who is slowly starting to embrace the shadow (literally and figuratively). Perhaps this could be read as embracing the death drive and queerness. 

Hamlet, Self-Recognition, and Resistant Reading

Another theme that has often been explored by folks interested in Hamlet is that of self-recognition. The play focuses so very much on Hamlet struggling with his sense of self. And this speaks well to contemporary western ideas of the individual. One scholar, Marjorie Garbor, has noted that “the experience of Hamlet is almost always that of recognition.” While another, John Gouws remarks that Hamlet and Shakespeare’s sonnets both “seem capable of functioning like Rorschach inkblots, by making us reveal (increasingly) more about ourselves the more we try saying something about them.”

It’s interesting to me then that Hamlet and Rorschach tests are both used in Shadow, but they don’t seem to say all that much about Dan. The blot is simply a tool to test if Dan is still seeing the shadow. It isn’t used to psychoanalyze him further. And when Cha-aim asks Dan to compare himself to Hamlet he hilariously just says both their dads are dead. Of course we know that Hamlet’s dad and Dan’s aren’t exactly analogous either. Dan rejects this sort of self-identification. Or perhaps, the play rejects him? At the very least we know that he can’t perform the type of filial love that Hamlet has for his own father.

But perhaps this rejection has queer implications as well. There’s a really lovely article from the perspective of a queer South African director, Thys Heydenrych. He talks about reading and staging Hamlet through a queer and decolonial lens. In his piece he quotes Hanna Kubowitz who discusses queer readers' relationship with texts. She notes that “[b]eing heterosexual has several benefits…One can enter into most cultural narratives…on the basis of simple and satisfying identification.” This of course made me think of the moment when Cha-aim asks Dan to identify with Hamlet.

Whether we read this as an active refusal on Dan’s part or as the play being inhospitable to Dan’s identification, Cha-aim is asking Dan to express and perform identity here. Perhaps this could be read as her asking Dan to narratively self-identify with straight culture and values. It makes sense in the context of her having feelings for him and ties well into the scene where she tries to pick his costume. While Dan isn’t yet identifying as queer, he seems to be dis-identifying from straightness just as he dis-identifies from his father’s version of manhood. 

Still, motifs of self-recognition or the struggle to understand oneself seem to abound. The use of mirrors in episodes 6 and 7 speak to this theme well with the blurring of self and other, while also tying into both horror motifs and the Greek mythology being referenced (Orpheus and Eurydice, narcissus perhaps). Is the shadow a part of him?   

What I’ll be curious to see is how the show chooses to engage with this theme. Will Hamlet continue to serve as a narrative that is inhospitable to identification or will it be queered. There’s a tradition of scholarship that thinks about resistant reading. This is when a reader engages with a text that wasn’t designed with them in mind, but finds potential despite this. Certainly Shakespeare’s work and Hamlet in particular have been interpreted as queer at times, and Hamlet is definitely open to these readings.

When it comes to Shadow, however, I’m interested in what one scholar, Lois Tyson, has asked about resistant reading: “How might the works of heterosexual writers be reread to reveal an unspoken or unconscious lesbian, gay, or queer presence?” This idea of a hidden queer presence speaks well to the idea of haunting. I’m really interested to see how the use of Hamlet as a narrative might speak to the idea of queerness as hidden presence and whether this continues to play out in the second half.  

A few other connections that I want to wait to think on more:

-Madness seems to be a shared theme but I want to see how Shadow handles this as a whole before commenting, but you can check out my post on queer and crip time in The Eighth Sense if you're interested in that element at all

-Power and oppression. Heydenrych’s article mentions a 2010 production that focuses on Denmark’s repressive political system and themes of surveillance, control, and abuse of power. These seem like themes working their way into Shadow but I’d want to be more familiar with the topic in Hamlet

-Suicide. There are versions of Hamlet that heighten this theme further with Gertrude and Ophelia in particular being framed as making attempts. 

-Play within a play and the blurring of fiction and reality

-Decolonial and religious elements

Sources:

Heydenrych, Thys. “‘To tell our Storie’: Reflections on a Queer Adaptation of Hamlet in Twenty-first Century South Africa” Shakespeare in Southern Africa vol 30, 2017. pp. 43-55

Edelman, Lee. “Against Survival: Queerness in a Time That’s Out of Joint” Shakespeare Quarterly, 62.2, 2011. pp. 148-169.

Edelman, Lee. No Future: Queer Theory and The Death Drive. Duke University Press, 2004.

Note: Most other sources were mentioned in the Heydenrych piece

[davenweenie]

This is very self indulgent to make me feel better about my TS

I present to you:

Chase Davenport with Tourette’s

Chase started developing tics when he was 6. It started with shrugging, which was passed off as another odd behaviour bc Davenport is an oblivious dick.

His tics were only realised when they became more distracting to him and his siblings. Aka when he started to head jerk and exclaim randomly.

He diagnosed himself with Tourette’s because he’s just that smart. I have to give credit to Aster ( @firelitsparks ) for coming up with the ‘Chase diagnosing himself with things’ idea because it’s genius.

Adam has difficulty knowing when something is a tic and when it isn’t. Chase’s tics calling Adam names and then Adam being mean back because he thinks Chase is being mean on purpose is a prime example.

Trent and his cronies were so horrible to Chase about his tics that they sent him into a tic attack on his second week of school.

Trent calls him ‘parrot’ while bullying him because of Chase’s echolalia (repeating things that he has heard) and Chase hates it so much.

Adam has absolutely punched the shit out of Trent or anyone else that bullies Chase about his tics

Bree can make her body vibrate because of her superspeed which they’ve all figured out can help calm Chase’s tics down. So on a bad tic day Bree will let Chase lean against her and start to make her body vibrate. They’re not sure why it works but it does so they do it.

Leo built Chase a pair of noise cancelling headphones that were bionic hearing proof to help Chase out not only with his sensory issues but with his tics as well.

Adam has used himself as a weighted blanket before when Chase had a tic attack that lasted about 12 hours (no joke this happened to me and I ended up in hospital and had to be sedated, it’s scary shit)

On that note, Chase has had to be sedated because of his tics before. Adam and Bree were really scared because Chase was only 10 at the time and he had started to really badly hurt himself during a tic attack.

Tasha is so gentle with him on a bad tic day. She’ll make food that’s easy to eat for him and gets him water in a bottle that can’t be spilt.

She’ll push his hair out of his face and comfort him if he’s getting overwhelmed (I love Tasha 🫶)

Davenport used to blame Chase’s Tourette’s on his bionics and always called them glitches because he didn’t want to accept the fact that his ‘son’ is disabled. (I use the word son loosely because I don’t think Davenport ever really saw them as his kids, if he did they wouldn’t have been treated the way they were)

Douglas never mentioned Chase’s tics, not even when he started living in the Davenport-Dooley household because he didn’t need to. He knew what they were caused by and why they happened, the best thing to do was just ignore them or laugh with Chase if he had a particularly funny one.

Tesla and Einstein (Chase’s cats. Einstein belongs to Aster and Tesla was my cat hc that was inspired by Einstein) have a very deep understanding of Chase, including his tics. They will both cuddle up with him when they notice he’s struggling which will almost immediately help calm Chase’s tics down.

Kaz has never made a big deal of Chase’s tics and he makes him feel so comfortable. Chase almost cried the first time he’d had a tic attack around Kaz because he had been so good and knew exactly how to respond to it. Kaz explained that one of his siblings (holy shit why does he have 11) has anxiety tics so he’s grown up around people with tics.

Chase has a tic that makes him lean back really far, quite often resulting in him falling. People try to catch him all the time and most of the time succeed. Cooking in the kitchen? Someone has just had to catch Chase. Happen to be brushing your teeth at the same time as him? You’re gonna end up having to catch him. It’s turned into a bit of a game in the EF penthouse to see who can react the fastest to Chase nearly falling. Skylar and Bree are both in the lead. Chase loves them all dearly.

Because of a blocking tic (tonic or dystonic tics that interrupt motor/physical activity) Chase once got stuck hugging Adam. His tics had made him wrap his arms around Adam and then he got stuck there. He was so embarrassed because him and Adam never really hugged, they usually wrestled and beat each other up to show affection so it was a strange experience to be stuck hugging like that. Adam did try to pry Chase’s arms off him but there was no way around it without hurting Chase so they just sat there for a good half an hour before Chase’s arms loosened up.

I have a ton more of these if you want more. I might just do more anyway because it’s making me feel better about my tics. I’m in a bit of a flare up so I’m struggling a bit. I’ll be okay tho

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello!

Do you have any "who hurt you" fics where john or sherlock goes completely scorched earth on anyone who hurts the other?

Thank you!!

Hey Nonny!

You know, I've been asked for similar-style fics a LOT this week, so my lazy arse decided to just scroll through my bookmarks because I don't have a list ready anyway, and pulled out the ones that I THINK have a similar premise :) Please note that it's been awhile since I've read these so I probably effed up a bit, hence the title I used for this list instead :P And apologies for the large chunk of FFNet fics.

As always, please add your own lists if you got them!

WHUMP WITH VENGEFUL / PANICKING / WORRIED PARTNER

See also:

John Whump with Guilty Sherlock

John Realizes How Important Sherlock is To Him

Three Garridebs Moment

Words Were Never Useful by Jenn1984 (K+, 819 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, John Whump, Friendship, Ambiguous Ending) - ALLEY BEHIND THE BOOKSTORE, JOHN STABBED. HELP NOW. SH

Dismantle the Sun by Mount_Seleya (T, 965 w., 1 Ch. || John Whump, 3G, Angst, Grief) – After a gunshot leaves John in critical condition, Sherlock holds vigil beside his hospital bed, slowly unravelling as the night progresses.

The Four Incidents by TheGirlWithRedHair22 (K+, 1,064 w., 1 Ch. || S1 Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, John Whump, Accident, John POV, Hand Holding, Worried Sherlock, Sherlock’s Self Esteem) – The first time John was present when someone insulted Sherlock, he brushed it off as a strange coincidence.

Wreckage and Rubble by grannysknitting (K+, 1,116 w. || Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Ambiguous Ending) – Lestrade's point of view when he's called to the wreckage of the pool. He doesn't want to deal with the wreckage that would occur if London's newest crime fighting duo are parted from each other.

Let Me Through by RacheLynne (K+, 1,172 w. || Angst, Friendship, Ambiguous Ending) – Once Sherlock and John are finally reunited, things seem to be looking up. But when is it ever sunshine and roses for these two? It isn’t long before things go downhill for the pair - and fast.

Two To Tango (The Cold Hands, Warm Heart Remix) by igrockspock (T, 1,207 w., 1 Ch. || Domestics, John Whump, Worried Sherlock) – When John is wounded while pursuing a suspect, Sherlock refuses to leave his side. 

I Feel A Weakness by Jenn1984 (T, 1,389 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, John Whump) – John Watson is hurt. Sherlock has a hard time processing it.

Persuasion by Januscars (K+, 1,492 w. || Friendship, Crime, Angry Sherlock, Hostage John) – A gunman holds a gun to John's head, and Sherlock proves to be very persuasive when he wants to be... 

Left In The Ashes by zoltargirl (T, 1,497 w. || Angst, MCD, Angry Sherlock, Brutal Violence) – Rage is a unique quality in all human beings. In Sherlock Holmes, it's terrifying.

The 3x John Carried Sherlock, and Once ViceVersa by ShinkonoKokoro (K+, 1,673 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Friendship, Three and One, BAMF John, Sherlock Whump, Worried Sherlock, John Gets Shot) – It happens more than he suspects.

Priorities by Starlight05 (K+, 1,686 w. || Friendship, Worried Sherlock/John) – The power is out on Baker Street, so candles are the only source of light at 221B. But then, at night, things go terribly wrong, and Sherlock and John realize just how much they mean to each other.

Quite Contrary by Hollyesque (T, 1,805 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Sherlock Whump / After Mary Shot Sherlock, Hallucinations / Flashbacks / PTSD, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Lestrade POV ) – A short one-shot, alternate scene to Greg's hospital visit in HLV. Instead of Sherlock disappearing, Greg is faced with an unexpected reaction to a hospitalized Sherlock and winds up figuring out something that he really would have rather not known.

In Which Lestrade Looks in on Sherlock and Observes by Aztecwarfareandcrumping (K+, 1,833 w. || Lestrade POV, Friendship, Hurt Comfort, John Whump) – John's in hospital, which means Sherlock is, too. Lestrade takes it upon himself to look in on them.

One in Ten Thousand by Blind Author (K+, 1,856 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Discussions of Violence, Worried then Curious Sherlock, Scars/John’s Bullet Wound, Medical Anomalies) – John seems to have unusual mobility for a shoulder wound…

The Doctor's Capable Hands by Totally-Out-Of-It (K+, 2,012 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock Whump, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Anxious Sherlock) – Sherlock is injured during a chase. John sits watchful at his bedside in the hospital and wonders. He wouldn't leave Sherlock alone like this. Especially not if Sherlock wanted him to stay.

Ten Hours by morningdawn202 (T, 2,242 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Friendship, Worried Sherlock, John’s Cane) - It’s been ten hours since Sherlock saw John last. 

The Many Faces of Concern by sdrawkcabemdaer5 (K+, 2,473 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Angsty Fluff, John Whump, Mildly Clueless / Guilty Sherlock) – John is injured on a case, leading to some surprising reactions and discoveries about their friendship.

Domino by Deception's Call (K, 2,689 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Scared / Worried Sherlock, John Whump, Crying Sherlock, Hospital, Implied Caretaker Sherlock) – When John is injured on a case and is admitted to the hospital, those at Scotland Yard come to realize that perhaps Sherlock Holmes has a heart after all.

All in a Day by chappysmom (K+, 2,920 w. || Kidnapping, Sherlock POV) – Oddly enough, it seemed like this time, Sherlock had been kidnapped for no other reason than to pressure John. In other words, this had nothing to do with him. Really, this on top of the blow to the head was enough to make him dizzy.

Once is Enough by Jominerva (T, 3,030 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Domestic Fluff, Whump) – Just as the earth rises to meet the sun at every mountain crest, John reaches out for Sherlock and takes his hand in his own."Tell me it won't end like this," he says, blue eyes holding grey while he laces their fingers together. Sherlock lets out a shaky laugh and shakes his head. "I wish I could."

A World Without You by tinyhobbit (T, 3,133 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump) – After John is quite badly hurt at the scene of a crime, Sherlock reacts in a way which allows John to finally see that his sociopathic best friend cares. One-shot, set sometime between Baskerville and Reichenbach.

Explosions, Literal and Otherwise by Jennistar1 (T, 3,288 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Worried Sherlock, Sort of Rev.-Reichenbach) – Sherlock does not react well to the idea that John might be dead.

All That I Have by the_arc5 (M, 3,721 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Pining Sherlock, John Whump, Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Light Angst) – In the aftermath of the Great Game, Sherlock finds himself with a new weakness. John is both the cause and the cure.

Nursery Rhymes by macrauchenia (T, 4,064 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Suspense, MCD, Unhappy Ending) – "Hickory dickery dock. Sherlock's against the clock. When the wick is gone, so will be John. Hickory dickery dock." - John is in a struggle for his life in a warehouse rigged to blow by Moriarty.

Not Without Me by Jennistar1 (T, 4,319 w., 1 Ch. || Drama, Mystery, Post-TRF Hiatus, Pining Sherlock) – Halfway through Sherlock's Great Hiatus, Mycroft comes to him with the news that John has died. But all is not what it seems…

Very Good Indeed by StillWaters1 (T, 4,531 w, 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Doctor John, John Whump) – John Watson was a doctor, trained to observe details; a fact Sherlock had never been more aware of than when a drugged John’s lifesaving instructions were based on an unlabeled syringe and an unconscious murder suspect’s body.

EMERGENCY CONTACT: Sherlock Holmes, RELATIONSHIP: n/a by blueink3 (M, 5,533 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt John / John Whump, Five and One, Fluff & Angst, Worried Sherlock)  – The first time John Watson’s emergency contact is called is the first time Sherlock Holmes finds out that he has the job. Part 1 of The Emergency Contact Series

Not The Hands That Kill by You_Light_The_Sky (M, 6,201 w., 1 Ch. || Winglock, Whump, Mentions of Drug Use) – Having wings does not make Sherlock Holmes a guardian angel, not in the way that John Watson is his.

EMERGENCY CONTACT: John Watson, RELATIONSHIP: Saint by blueink3 (M, 6,229 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt Sherlock, 5+1, Hurt / Comfort, Caring John, Scars) – The first time Sherlock Holmes realizes he needs an emergency contact is the first time he mentally appoints John Watson with the job. John, of course, does not know this and neither does the local hospital. Part 2 of The Emergency Contact Series

Goodbye, John by XxMildredxX (T, 7,154 w., 1 Ch.  || MCD, Angst, Self Reflection, Saying Goodbye, Holidays,, Scared Sherlock, Bittersweet Ending) – John finds it very difficult to tell Sherlock of his diagnosis, but it seems Sherlock has deduced it himself. As John says goodbye, he and Sherlock struggle with the feelings that this brings on them, and how Sherlock will go on when John has gone.

It’s Natural To Be Afraid by Jenn1984 (T, 7,283 w. || Tragedy, Angst, MCD) - Refusing to accept the obvious, Sherlock searches for what he believes truly happened the night his world was shattered.

Riddles in the Dark by Starlight05 (T, 9,255 w., 10 Ch. || Suspense & Friendship, Torture) - When Sherlock is kidnapped by an old nemesis, it’s up to John to find him and save his life. But can he find a way to get the detective out of this mess? And will they be found in time?

The Dying Doctor by Transcendental Starlight (T, 11,258 w., 3 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick John / John Whump, ACD Rewrite) – Loosely based off ACD's "The Dying Detective." Sherlock relives a case that should have killed him, but instead resulted in John being hospitalized for a deadly disease. Sherlock endeavors to catch the murderer, while attempting to envision a future without John Watson. No Slash.

Equilibrium by augustbird (M, 12,351 w., 1 Ch. || Flowers for Algernon Fusion || Jealous then Worried Sherlock, Sick John) – At Baskerville, John is infected by a virus that turns him into a genius. But when the infection progresses into neurodegeneration, it's a race against time to save himself.

The dying Doctor by marylouleach (T, 21,168 w., 11 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, John Whump) – Doctor Watson is gunned down in a dark alley after work, Sherlock wont rest until he finds the man responsible. Guilt riddles him when he realizes he could have prevented this.

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness', and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts' now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w., 8 Ch. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock's failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he's not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w., 17 Ch. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) –  John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sick Fic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him. 

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,256 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON by skyefullofstars (T, 110,758 w., 24 Ch. || H/C, Kidnapping, Angst, Violence, Whump, Nightmares, Murder, Drug Addiction, Torture) – While Sherlock grapples with his new-found feelings for John Watson, he faces a very real threat: John's kidnapping and shooting at the hands of James Moriarty. And the knowledge that the love of his life is being used to test an addictive drug - at the risk of John's sanity and life. Prequel to THE BOYS OF BAKER STREET. Part 1 of THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller, Switchlock, Rimming, Emotional Lovemaking, Lots of Sex, HJ/BJ’s) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

[aikoiya]

LoZ - Gerudo Tolerances

I don't get the insistence that the Gerudo, just by virtue of being primarily women, would somehow make them a very progressive, feminist culture. Especially the modern interpretation of feminism.

If anything, it's more likely to cause them to be very conservative. Especially in regards to homosexuality, childlessness, & transgenderism.

Because, think about it. An all-female society that still reproduces the same way as humans MEANS that in order to keep the Gerudo population from going extinct, every single Vai HAS to have an average of at least 1 child.

And that means that if even 1 Vai doesn't do this, then some other Vai has to pick up the slack by having 2.

I don't think a lot of fans are really getting just how very dire the Gerudo's situation is.

They only get 1 male a century & men are not allowed into their town, so in order to reproduce, they have to go out & search for a man to reproduce with. (And that 1 male cannot be the only stud of the Gerudo or their race would've died out long ago as a result of incest.)

That means that they could encounter monsters much more easily.

All this in a world that has things like Gleeoks & Lynels.

Which means that if every single Gerudo isn't strong enough or skilled enough as warriors, they could die without leaving someone else to take their place.

Which means in order to successfully maintain a birth rate if not above the death rate, then at least at equilibrium with it, just to account for unexpected tragedy, then these women should have, on average, at least 2 kids, if not 3 just to be safe.

Yet, you only see around 6 little Vai at most & only 2 of them are stated to be sisters.

That... is very, very bad.

So, I hate to crush ya'll's dreams of a feminist paradise, but heterosexuality & motherhood is most likely not only expected, but enforced with extreme prejudice.

Because even one Vai not having kids is likely cause for at least mild panic. 2 even more so. And I don't wanna even think about the sheer alarm that would occur if there were more than that.

Even if 10% of the Gerudo population is non-straight, it is almost guaranteed that they would opt to simply live life in the closet & seal it shut forever rather than come out of it. Because there's no telling what would happen. No telling how the other Vai would react. What they'd do.

Especially if that Vai has no sisters herself.

Please, keep in mind the fact that the Gerudo are at least partially based upon Muslim nations, where homosexuality is punishable by death.

So, yes. Of effing course, the Gerudo are gonna seem one-note & too focused on romance.

They are constantly on the brink of extinction.

If I were in their position, I'd be obsessed with finding a man too.

Hell, in their situation, it'd honestly just be more practical to have one-night stand after one-night stand until pregnant.

But that sort of habit does something to your sense of self-worth.

If anything, romance is most likely a pipe dream in most situations, but not the expected outcome.

Especially considering some of these women grow up without any male interaction. Period.

Hell! There's at least 1 Gerudo who has, apparently, never even seen a real man before! This is freaking canon! And it shows by the simple fact that this lady is unable to maintain eye-contact with Link!

I can't even fathom the emmense amount of stress & pressure that this would cause to a young person.

Which is likely why romance is so... romanticized!

To give these girls hope that they'll find someone who they can love & be loved by in return & live happily ever after with.

Life is already stressful enough.

This would likely be debilitating without something to hope for, even if it is impractical.

LoZ Cultural Masterlist

[ecruvian]

Project Management for the Desperate

I noticed that I have a routine, and I am nothing of not a technical communicator, so here is a very simple flowchart! This method is mental illness and poverty friendly, although it does require some executive function (EF) skills. EF tips vary wildly person to person, so I didn't include anyhere.

When I find myself thinking about my progress on a project or professional endeavor, here is the flowchart:

Reflect on progress (basic steps):

Check-in: List things that have been done. Include even very small items, such as making a to-do list.*

To-do: Consider things that can now be done, because those previous things have been done.

Next steps: Choose one or two things to do next. Include even very small items, such as doodling a concept for a project.

*If the answer to step 1 was null:

Check-in: Consider if progress has been made recently. If not, determine why. Common answers include: Depressive Episode, Lack of Resources, and Infirmity.

Recovery: Determine what can be done to recover from the limiting situation. Common answers include: warm blanket on a couch, talking to a friend, doing flashcards to remind self of terms.*

Damage control: If nothing can be done to recover, determine what can be done to reduce the damage that the situation does.

*When repeating the "Reflect on Progress" routine, Recovery counts as a "thing that has been done" during check-in.

IMPORTANT: Please note that if progress has not been made on a project, Step Two is ALWAYS Recovery. Doing Tasks can sometimes help with Recovery. Doing Tasks should not be done if it is not a part of Recovery.

An advanced version is below the cut, if you are fortunate enough to have a lot of spare spoons and good executive function at the moment!

Reflect on Progress (advanced):

If you're fortunate enough to have good executive function, you can use these steps.

Check-in: List things that have been done. Include even very small items, such as making a to-do list.*

To-do 1: Consider things that can now be done, because those previous things have been done.

Future planning: List things that you hope will happen in the future. Include even very broad items, such as becoming an expert in a topic.

To-do 2: Consider things that can be done immediately that will serve those future goals.

Next steps: Choose one or two things to do next. Include even very small items, such as doodling a concept for a project.

*If the answer to step 1 was null:

Check-in: Consider if progress has been made recently. If not, determine why. Common answers include: Depressive Episode, Lack of Resources, and Infirmity.

Recovery: Determine what can be done to recover from the limiting situation. Common answers include: warm blanket on a couch, talking to a friend, doing flashcards to remind self of terms.

Damage control: If nothing can be done to recover, determine what can be done to reduce the damage that the situation does.

Self-Esteem Management A: Consider things that you hope for the future. Pay special attention to ideas that do not give you very much anxiety, either because they are very easy and familiar or because they are such distant dreams that they do not feel real.

Self-Esteem Management B: Choose one or two very small tasks that serve the goal in step 4. Examples include reading a Wikipedia page on a topic you hope to study one day, making a sketch that might one day become a portfolio item, or daydreaming about how you would solve a career problem if given the opportunity.

[catty-words]

notes on a haven (2024) listen

a/n one: i was reading the fidlar wikipedia page recently (as one does) and this pitchfork quote really struck a chord with me - "[the band doesn't] make music you'll grow old with...but that's not really the point."

reading that, my mind immediately leapt to marianas trench.

i started listening to mt's music in 2021, when i was deeply unhappy, in need of escape, and barely cognizant of either of those things. their music brought me much joy for the way it was endlessly fun and danceable and facilitated the imagining of scenarios for my favorite fictional characters. but lately - before haven (2024) had been officially announced - i'd been thinking that i wouldn't grow old with them.

i came into this album asking it to prove me wrong and it didn't and that broke my heart a little bit. my listening experience is forever colored by that first impression.

a/n two: i presuppose that the fundamental tension in all of marianas trench's discography is between sickness and love, where the sickness is both literal & the drive to perform selfhood and the love is both a person & the audience consuming that selfhood. you can disagree, but then explain why my masterpiece theatre (2009) breakdown did numbers?

"a normal life"

- marianas trench openers have a history of setting the tone and soundscape of their album with impeccable flare, but that's just not true of "a normal life". it's giving generic film score. it's giving netflix YA property script quality. it's giving self-consciousness about how hard it is to sing the word 'normal' prettily.

- i can't say it doesn't accomplish its goals entirely, though, i find a lot of thematic richness in the chorus.

the voices in the night evoke mental illness but also suggests the inability to stop writing lyrics, to stop chasing the performance. for five years, our protagonist has been living inside normality (or at least without performance), but something innate to him can't settle there.

- the final verse and outro, too -

- drive home an idea of compulsion. the need to create means lack of stability.

"lightning and thunder"

- a second's faster than we thought gets to me. i haven't come to any meaningful conclusion as to why, i'm just kermit-nodding.gif about it.

- i am a sucker for the way the energetic rhythm of the pre-chorus contrasts with how effing dark the lyrics are.

what we got is a compensation. the performance (one last show) is costing him his heart.

- the chorus suggests that coming back to this performance (after a couple years of [feeling] estranged) is fate, is a force of nature. but honestly? given how much of this album sounds bored with itself, sounds like it was forced out at every step of the creative process, i simply cannot take the premise of the song seriously. and it's even a highlight on the album for me! woof!

"i'm not getting better"

- a bop. thank god. this album suffers from a lack of certified bops.

- why is the opening instrumentation serving "blank space" by taylor swift, though.

- see??

every piece of the album so far has highlighted the way performing - the creative voice in our protagonist's head, being on stage for one last show, the dance he needs to leave - is unhealthy. to get better, our protagonist has to walk away from all this.

and my overwhelming reaction to this through line is. SO GO. the music certainly isn't making a compelling case as to why we need you to hang around.

- anyway, this song is also critical in establishing that the grand love in the protagonist's life is still A Person. i know, i know by the sound you make / you've been around, 'cause your heartbeat keeps me awake / i know, i know i should stay away and all that.

"down to you"

- this has been my main grower track. it's gotten stuck in my head the most, its the place where the campbell inspiration does the most work (reading the song as the narrative speaking to its protagonist makes all about you, with or without you a very chewy refrain), and i had to admit to myself that it belongs on a ship playlist that is near and dear to my heart.

- HOWEVER. because it's also explicitly about the protagonist's love object - a broken heart and stay with me tonight and you're all i want - it sucks ass. this demonstrates exactly zero progress toward self-actualization or seeing porcelain as anything more than a fix-all for our protagonist's life. GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER.

"now or never"

NO

a reaction that works both in the context of the love being a literal person and the love being the audience. do not give yourself up to keep serving either of us, that's not what we're asking you to do.

"into the storm"

- on the other hand, i find this a really powerful commentary on the protagonist's relationship with his love:

he chose to immortalize versions of both of them forever in his art, and they can't escape those versions because they're always on the radio. that's as bitter as it is romantic. that's haunting, a la phantoms (2019).

i also really like the way the of mine ambiguously applies to either the broken record or the radio. the cadence of the delivery sells the former, though, and i am gnawing gnawing gnawing.

"ancient history"

- okay, but.

we just did this in the last track? and it was much less on the nose??

- i will admit to being emotional over the toronto name drop, though. maybe it's because the have a piece of american dream lyric looms large in my brain, but i often feel like mt avoids being so explicitly canadian. i like that we've been given a setting to imagine a wistful re-encounter with love, and that setting is toronto.

"stand and fight"

- a track where the campbell inspiration feels like it's doing the least! what are we fighting? why do we need this generic pep talk? this would be cheesy regardless, but it would actually mean something if we'd built a concrete enemy to stand against!!

"turn and run"

- i have similar issues with this track as with "stand and fight" but i will admit that the dramatic turn in the instrumentals does hit for me.

- though the more fantastical setting (the edge of where the world drops) comes out of nowhere, i can't say i hate it. i kind of wish this energy had been present throughout the album. i wish this album had a more concrete identity and understanding of itself.

"worlds collide"

- i hadn't yet clicked with this track, but okay. i guess with a title like "worlds collide" it Would be about reconciling those voices in the dark (i.e. the sickness, the need to live in the spotlight) keeping our protagonist from his normal life (i.e. settling down with his love). i can get down with the intent to weave together the established threads.

the repetition of several key lyrics from this album really brings home that intent, too.

- and i obviously love that they chose masterpiece theatre (2009) lyrics specifically to include in the repetition section.

it corroborates my read that haven (2024) is taking up the mantle of performance costing the protagonist something essential at the same time that it is something essential to their selfhood.

- BUT. i find the music and the production uninspired. it's simply not a song with a strong identity of it's own, which honestly kind of fucks thematically speaking since the protagonist is struggling mightily to marry the contradictory forces of nature on his life, but i don't want to have to engage with this primarily as text for it to fuck. i want it to be good music first, and it's still mainly serving me generic film score.

"nights like these"

- bored.

"remember me by"

- a bop! thank god! this album suffers from a lack of certified bops!!

- since this album is supposed to have a narrative - even if that narrative is a meta-narrative about the shape all myths take - this necessarily feels like regression. we're back to talking about how the protagonist and his love first met? why?

- whatever. like i said: a bop!

- you've got me burning like a dive bar cigarette really does it for me in terms of similes. there's skeeze! there's an unhealthy element! there's a 'hot and quick' implication that really works! i fuck with this so hard!!

- also, the i'll give you something to remember me by sitting in the shadow of "into the storm"!!! he gave her an inescapable musical legacy! FUCK!!

"haven"

- unlike the album opener, "haven" does live up to the mt legacy of closing tracks Going Hard. i feel like it picks up the fantastical, gritty edge from "turn and run", which sets the closer in a distinctly storybook land. it also folds in the rain/water/force of nature motif that has otherwise not done much for me through the rest of the album's run and makes me care.

- ooh ooh OOH this part

just landed with impact for the first time. in the beginning, the protagonist was kept from belonging by the voices, and here, the pairing of but i try to belong here and i'm trying to be gone here suggests that the voices are a kind of coping mechanism insomuch as he isn't present on purpose in order to belong. EATING THAT SHIT UP.

- still don't think this song has any right to evoke "ever after" though, the narrative album that upstages haven (2024) in every way. like, why are you reminding me that you've done this better already? embarrassing for you.

- and then, of course, i still hate the way the resolution claims that this life of constant tension with performance fits our protagonist better than anything else. it's cheap and happens so quickly as to be disingenuous and - ONCE AGAIN - the quality of the music is not making a case that this is something at which the protagonist ought to keep salving away. a break (more permanent than a five-year lapse between albums) might be a relief for everyone.

- not to mention, the literary nerd in me is driven up a wall by this because when the hero returns, he's not supposed to fall easily back into his so-called normal life. he's supposed to be too changed by his experience to reintegrate. and i guess you could make the case that haven's protagonist started out ill-fit to his normal life, so slotting into it neatly in the end is still indicative of the you can't go back story beat.

but you know what? no!! the bitter-sweetness is what makes that part of the monomyth resonate with me. journeys - be they literal or emotional - leave lasting impacts. you're never the same person at the end in a way that's painful but Correct. this twee sentiment wrapping up the album sells that out in favor of maintaining the status quo.

self-actualization when, king?

[srbachchan]

DAY 6027

Jalsa, Mumbai Aug 18, 2024 Sun 11:04 pm

Birthday - EF - Jaishree Sharad Monday, 19 August .. to the enterprising hard working Jaishree .. and our wishes for greater glory .. ❤️❤️🌺

Many felt that the Sunday meets have not been projected on the Blog .. but I feel your love is all that needs to be recorded - in my heart !

Nothing more ..

But then , when I have ever not followed the Ef suggestions and corrections and wants .. some could not happen, yes .. the show for KALKI .. and the clothes for charity .. but it will and shall .. soon ..

and some from the work environ ..

.. and whenever there is a need and a time to spend by the self , it has always been with the thoughts of Babuji ..

As I read the Tulsidas Ramayan each day , I find little jottings in pencil on the verses and words and expressions , by him .. they are not entirely legible, but they must have reason to be there , and the reason could well be his notes from the Ramayan when he must have been doing the translation of the Geeta into the language and graph of this epic , the Jan Geeta ..

This is only a thought .. it could have been more .. and in time I shall find out what these markings were and why ..

So the day ends with Babuji and his letters to the many that linked with him and his ritual of responding to each one in his own hand writing .. and the questions asked and the responses given on his body of work, giving reason for the purpose of each poem or the prose or the thesis that he wrote and also the translations of great works of his time and others .. Shakespeare, WB Yeats et al, including some of the works of prominent Russian Poets ..

So I muse and search .. and find great philosophy and words of immense meaning ..

" my poetry is the poetry of those that have struggled with life .. my readers know me thus .. those who do not know me thus , they do not know me ..

when did I ever say that I have come to give the ultimate truth of life .. if I can give just one truth of life i would consider myself blessed .."

" what can I give to society ..?? 😁 today , what is most prominent is the desire to give , without having , without achieving .. when you have, if you achieve, if you become something , if you be something .. then the problem of giving shall never be there .."

" who are the poets that have impressed me ? .. let my readers see, tell and prove .. if there is not a need to do all this research, then read my poetry, if you can, and derive pleasure from it, .. to be impressed by someone depends on your own kshmta क्षमता,.. your own capacity .. to have read heard someone and not be impressed , then there must be a reason of it - either a shortcoming in them, or a shortcoming in me ..

I am not too conversant with modern American Poetry, my knowledge of it has been almost negligible ..

My birthday happens on the 27th of November .. but how is that such a special day that it should be celebrated ..

the poet Iqbal has said :

'many a poet is born after his death '

I remember .. because I do 🙏

Amitabh Bachchan

[youngbuckisms]

Matt Jackson being a big brother; headcanon list

Warnings: none!

Notes: I was watching older BTE episodes and come across one where Matt was talking about Nick being his baby brother and how he had to protect him, so it gave me inspiration to write some big brother Matt being his big brother self and Nick being an annoyed little brother. Their bond reminds me a lot of me and my older brother, so def taking inspiration from my brother here on this one. But I hope you enjoy!!

— Matt doesn’t notice it, or maybe he just denies it despite knowing it, but he can be overprotective. Always worrying, albeit subconsciously, trying to make sure Nick is always okay.

— He cares too much sometimes, especially after matches that he knows took a heavy toll on both of them. Always checking in, asking if Nick is okay, helping him to the trainers if he needs. Sometimes he helps anyway even if Nick says he’s fine — “Would you effing knock it off already? I’m fine.”

— He pokes at Nick’s bruises, gives a sympathetic little smile when he makes him wince — Nick only rolls his eyes in return — and goes back to helping him wrap a bag of ice around whatever is sore. Sometimes he jabs his fingers into his sides to tickle him whenever he’s being difficult, which usually always ends in them roughhousing with one another, slapping at one another’s hands and sharing gentle shoves between their laughter and an occasional exclaim of “eff off” from Nick.

— Matt makes Nick get a bottle of water during long drives, though he never says anything about it. Whenever they stop at a gas station, Matt just buys one for him out of habit then tosses it in the direction of wherever Nick is sat in the car. Nick has just gotten used to it and doesn’t argue about it anymore.

— He often does pass off his worries to his own needs, not wanting to seem overbearing, though Nick is always very aware of when he is — “You want to grab food? Have you eaten yet? Shoe shopping can wait, come on, because I’m freaking starving.”

— Nick isn’t a very affectionate or touchy person, but Matt can be at times, typically after Nick gets hurt even if it’s minor. There are some days where they can be found attached right at the hip, Matt’s arm draped over Nick’s shoulders or midsection to pull him over in a side hug. Sometimes being seen with his legs across Nick’s lap as they both scroll aimlessly on their phones. Nick finds it annoying sometimes, Matt doesn’t care.

— Most of Matt concerns are met with eye rolls, a huffy little “I’m fine, Matt”, and sometimes little jabs at him for caring too much. But Nick does appreciate it, glad that his brother cares. Though he think he would be okay if Matt cares a little less.

— It isn’t like Matt is like this all the time and he doesn’t do it on purpose most the time either. It’s just habit now. But there are times he keeps himself from being overbearing. Like when Nick comes to him for something.

— Like how when Nick goes to Matt’s room when he can’t sleep, Matt makes sure not to ask too many questions, although he wants to — “did you take anything to sleep? Did you have a nightmare? Are you anxious about something? Are you sore?” But he knows better than to ask any of that.

— Nick will talk about something bothering him usually only if Matt doesn’t ask. Matt thinks it’s because Nick is stubborn. Nick hasn’t denied that, but nor has he agreed.

— They’re impossibly close, despite Nick insisting he doesn’t like how protective and ‘big brotherly’ Matt is. But really, Nick wouldn’t want him to be anything else, because that’s just Matt and why would he want him to change?