#but this scene we understand the extent of it

[charcubed]

I saw Challengers earlier today and I decided to start a running doc of some of my feral thoughts in an effort to not forget what's currently marinating in my brain after my first watch

I want this movie to get a long theatrical release/run because it deserves it, but that's unfortunate because I also NEED to have it accessible to me in my home ASAP so I can pull on all its threads and take screencaps. Alas.

EXTENSIVE SPOILERS BELOW

might add to this later as I remember things, idk

-The parallel of Art spitting his gum in Tashi’s hand and in Patrick’s hand… My jaw dropped soooo early on. Anyway they obviously both act as Art’s “coach” at different times in his life in different ways. (The jerking off teaching?? Scream???) Art craves their guidance and approval as a form of love (which is also directly responsible for his confidence issues) and initially likes to follow their leads in every situation

-The parallel of Tashi making out with both Art and Patrick up against cars… delicious

-Patrick’s car is his “bed” and it’s where he and Tashi fuck. Nice

-Wait now I’m sad because… lowkey Patrick is homeless because Art and Tashi are his home…………….

-The storm = Patrick and Tashi having sex = the reason why Art’s half of the giant poster/ad on the side of the building falls down so only Tashi’s side is left up. Iconic, loooove a good visual metaphor, especially shown nonlinearly

-The parallel of the forehead kisses??? Art and Patrick on the court at the start when they won the doubles, and Art and Tashi in the sad almost-sex scene towards the end??? I will throw up

-Disclaimer and reminder I’ve only seen this movie once and might reform any of these thoughts later BUT…

One of Art’s main things is, as he tells Patrick towards the start, not wanting to be “left out.” He loves and he wants both Patrick and Tashi (but he doesn’t fully want to acknowledge the extent of his want for Patrick for years, and that repression is part of his problems…). He gets “lit up” about the thought of them together not because he’s jealous of one of them but because he’s jealous of BOTH of them; he wants to know it all, he wants to be in the room, he wants to be with them both, he despairs at the thought of losing either of them (but, at the start, especially at the thought of losing or being of lesser importance to Patrick. Obviously he’s a fucking idiot as evidenced by how Patrick goes to see him FIRST at Stanford. Ugh). We see all of this at the start when Art wants to know if Tashi and Patrick fucked. We see this in Atlanta when he witnesses Tashi cheating on him with Patrick but doesn’t directly confront either of them about it; he only skates the edge of confronting it with Patrick in the sauna while also lashing out at him. Patrick tells Art at Stanford “it’s nice to see you so lit up about something, even if it’s my girlfriend” during the homoerotic churros scene because Patrick’s clocked all of this about Art, too. He clocks it further in Atlanta when he shows up to Art’s practice with Tashi and his mere presence makes Art hit the ball harder. It obviously all comes full circle; the cocktail of emotions that Patrick and Tashi being together gives Art coalesces again for him on the court in the Challengers match: Tashi’s threatened to leave him if he loses… and she’s maybe got one foot out the door with Patrick of all people, who Art already “lost” in the past as the love he’s been mourning for 13 years. But what’s important is that THIS time, unlike Atlanta, Art learns about Tashi cheating on him with Patrick not by accident but rather because Patrick actually tells him. Patrick understands the significance of how this will get Art lit up again and make him play the way he needs to for all of their sakes, and it’s fucked up, but… what this means is Patrick doesn’t leave Art out. He TELLS Art – and he tells him in a way only they understand while they’re on the court together again. Of course Art goes through several stages of emotions in response to that fucked up information… but ultimately that moment of honesty and realization between the boys is what Art needed and puts where all 3 of them stand into sharp relief, shedding a light on who they’ve all always been and what their individual needs are.

Art’s always wanted to play tennis, but that desire is framed around his relationships. Tennis is only something he truly enjoys or that fully makes him happy when he’s experiencing it through his connections to other people: he wants to impress, earn the approval of, or celebrate with those he loves who are watching (like his grandmother or Tashi) – which is partially why he wants Tashi to be his coach in the first place. And of course, tennis all began as something Art found joy in because he was always doing it with Patrick. It’s clear Patrick feels the same. At the start, neither of them cared much about winning for the sake of winning unless it was doubles because they competed as a team and that was “really fun” for them. With the singles competition, they kind of cared less about the wins at the start; Art assumed Patrick would win and didn’t care back then, and then Patrick was willing to let Art win so he could impress his family, and they were both fine with all of those sentiments. Tennis was first and foremost something they did with and for each other. As Patrick later tells Art in the sauna, “I miss playing with you” – and, of course, at that point he’s definitely not only talking about tennis. But in that final match, after so many years, Patrick and Art finally understand each other completely again. It’s like they’re in love (because they are and always have been), they go somewhere really beautiful together… etc. They finally reconnect on the court and feel that thrill as they become synchronized again, which is what tennis was always about for them.

And Tashi, who’s irrevocably connected to them both and whose primary love is and always has been the sport itself, gets what SHE’S always wanted: to “watch some good fucking tennis.” It’s why she pitted the boys against each other vying for her number at the start. Though she needs/wants both boys in different ways on an individual level, she doesn’t particularly need or want anyone to ~be in love with her~; she wants the men who are in love with her to entertain her and challenge her and give her a show. So that’s what she tries to accomplish again in the end by telling Art she’d leave him if he lost the Challengers match… but the missing piece in her making that threat – the element that would get Art truly fired up – was that she’d potentially leave Art for Patrick. That final piece of info, when Art finds out about the cheating, is what reconnects them in all of the above ways. Because it’s about all 3 of them and their triangular codependency. They’ve all been broken for 13 years because they all need each other and tennis to be fully functional. Split any of it apart and they just don’t work.

-Literally this is a film where from the moment of the injury they’re all constantly mourning. They all lose their greatest loves that day… Tashi essentially loses tennis, Art loses Patrick, and Patrick loses the two of them. Everything after that is just them being affected by how they’re all mired in various grief and feeling incomplete… until that synchronization at the match when they finally become whole again. Going from that bed scene that was breaking my heart to the final match was HEALING. Things are still fucked up and in progress, but they’re fucked up in a way they all understand, which gives them a path forward. This movie has a fiercely happy ending in that regard… and what I’m saying is that… after the match, once they communicate further, and much later down the line… Art and Patrick should go back to playing doubles and Tashi should coach them as as doubles team. God they’d eventually all be so happy I wanna CRY just thinking about them doing that. It would take them awhile to get there — because yeah, Tashi is living vicariously through Art’s career as an individual player and maybe if Art retired she’d then want to live through PATRICK’S career for awhile — but I think if they worked out their relationship then their tennis could come to reflect the needs of that relationship too, and doubles can still be “good fucking tennis” in its own satisfying right, y’know? I think they could get there and it would be a beautiful collective restart.

-I gotta say, I can't imagine Tashi pregnant. Wild to me. Sorry to their daughter. Oooo also... I think Patrick would be great with kids... when he gets to meet Lily and become "Uncle Patrick" they're gonna hit it off so fast. Help me

-*holds up Tashi watching them kiss after she orchestrated it* *holds up the Challengers match* It’s the same picture. Except the kisses were kisses whereas the match was actual sex. The moaning and grunting… I’m insane. Also Tashi’s “COME ON!!!!” is arguably the sole orgasm/climax we witness in the whole movie perhaps? Though you could argue the hug is too. In this essay I will, etc.

-Art begging for Tashi’s love/validation saying “Tell me it doesn’t matter if I win tomorrow” vs Art telling Patrick in the sauna “this is a game about winning the points that matter” / Patrick saying “I don’t matter?” AAAA oh my fucking Goddddddd I’m gonna die

-Thank you Luca Guadignino for your dedication to having Art and Patrick hold phallic drinks and food in each others’ presence. Specific shout out to Patrick at the beach party holding the beer bottle on his crotch

-Patrick = comfortable with who he is and secure in his bisexuality; honest and open Art = repressing his queerness and his overall desires Tashi = hiding who she is aka her dissatisfactions with life and the lengths she’ll go to because tennis is her true greatest love and always has been

COMPRESS, REPRESS... REPRESS, COMPRESS... AND THEN JUST SURRENDER, ONE TWO THREEEEE

-I need to rewatch to catch the dialogue because it was difficult for me to hear it over the music, but I think in the 3am Atlanta scene Tashi tells Patrick that Art’s grandmother had a stroke. IF that’s what she said (and if there’s no reason to believe it’s a lie Art told; like I said, I need to rewatch)… my immediate impression was that it’s a nod to Patrick being the voice of accuracy and prediction in this movie. Towards the beginning he tells Art (jokingly) that he hopes Art’s grandmother dies of a stroke, and that’s seemingly what literally comes to pass. He repeatedly clocks both Tashi and Art’s behaviors, describing them brashly to their faces (and to us as the audience), and he was right about his predictions. He’s the one who’s not repressed or unaware of who he is out of the 3 of them: when Tashi first asks if there’s something between him and Art, he looks away because he knows the answer is yes; he’s openly bi on dating apps; he tells Tashi he won’t be her lapdog unlike Art which we see later ends up becoming literal; he clocks how Tashi is hiding some of her true motivations when she seeks him out in the storm; and even from afar he predicts Art’s mindset about wanting to retire. For the most part, what Patrick does / says either seems to be or becomes truth. Hmmm, wait, as I’m typing this… something to look out for: the “I TOLD YA” shirt. Working theory: Tashi briefly wears it, she’s the voice of accuracy; then it blatantly switches over to Patrick and he wears it throughout the film and [waves to all of the above]

-Head in my hands thinking of how the word “love” is used in these tennis matches. Also something I need to make detailed note of when I rewatch

-Patrick grabbing Art’s thigh when they first watched Tashi play… oh my GOD

-Patrick pulling Art’s stool close and Art just smoothly sitting on it with no reaction… the way they kept looking at each others' lips... oh my G O D

-I just remembered Tashi referred to the boys being known as as “fire and ice.” What the fuck even.

-Tashi going to Patrick asking him to lose the match for Art… she’s literally like, "do this because I love tennis and if I lose Art then I lose the way I live tennis through him. Do this because if he loses this match he'll lose himself." And she's really like, "Do this because I know you’re in love with both of us." And Patrick is like, "A) fuck you because you know I’ll say yes precisely because I'm in love with both of you so how dare you ask this of me, and B) you’re kidding yourself if you think you don’t miss the challenge I give YOU simply by being myself because I don’t take your shit." Something something they're peers, you know

-Tbh for 13 years when Patrick gets his rare opportunities he’s @ both Art and Tashi like “you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” And the thing is that he’s RIGHT. He’s right! Art in particular doesn't want to admit it because he's trying to convince himself he outgrew being bisexual / outgrew Patrick but it's obviously bullshit

-Realizing some of the sounds in the soundtrack intentionally emulate the sounds of tennis balls and rackets???? MADNESS

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Devotion.

I just want, or rather need, to write about this scene, because it stuck in my head for the last seven days. And because of the wonderful @lurkingshan I decided to post it...

This scene is the culmination, the end of the years that Qian has forbidden himself to feel joy or love. Romantic love that doesn't demand, that doesn't require him to be in control, to take care, to be the big brother. So far he has not allowed the depth of his feelings for Yuan to surface. He has kept them locked away, kept control of them. He knows they were there, but couldn’t or didn’t dare to face them, to name them. And he would have continued to do so if Yuan hadn't finally told him what he actually wants from him. It wasn't enough for him to tell Qian that he loves him, that it was his own problem, not Qian's, that he was content if the person he loved was happy. The talk with San Pang and the staircase talk were the first steps, Qian is finally able and willing to face those emotions, but couldn’t make up his mind. Still couldn't name those feelings.

Everything is too much for him. He is overwhelmed by the decision he has to make and the possible outcome of that. He could lose Yuan, if they don't work out in the end. If those boundaries are finally crossed, there is no going back to where they were. So Qian needed to hear that Yuan doesn't want him as a brother. Every time Yuan told Qian he can take care of him, he is there for him and holds up the world together with him, it was as a brother. In Qian’s mind, he said that as a brother. All Qian brought Yuan was suffering and sadness and abandonment, because he fell in love with him.

In his mind, Yuan shouldn’t love him as something else than a brother, because that would harm both of them. Because loving Qian isn’t a good thing to do. Qian knows that Yuan loves him but hasn't understood, or rather wanted to understand, the extent of his feelings. Yuan wants to be his partner. He wants him to be able to rely on him, to be Qian's rock, no matter what life brings, he wants to be there for him. And not just for the moment, but for the rest of his life. And not just as a brother Qian has to take care of, but as a lover, the one person who puts Qian first.

He wants to be Qian's partner, he wants to protect him and take the burden off his shoulders. He wants Qian not to have to deal with everything on his own, but to open up to him, to share his worries and hardships with him. And Qian finally understands what it means when Yuan tells him that he can summarize his life in two words: Wei Qian. Yuan puts Qian above himself, he would run to the end of the world for him if he had to, he would fight against the rest of the world if he had to, he will protect him, he will take care of him and love him no matter what the world holds. And finally Qian understands that it's good, that Yuan won't just leave him once he opens up, because he loves everything about him, his dark sides and his light ones. Yuan can take care of him to the end, can love him to the end. And Qian surrenders. He's always in fucking control, no matter what, he has to control everything, even his heart. But at some point, all resistance breaks. He just had to understand.

And when they get into the bedroom, Qian is beaming. The lightning focusses on his face, this delighted face. He is like pudding under Yuan’s kisses, touches, breathes. In that moment he exists only out of his emotions. There is nothing more and nothing more is needed in this situation. He has never looked so weightless before and has certainly never felt like this.

We know what Yuan imagines at night, or at least we have a pretty good idea. We have witnessed countless moments when his love and affection for Qian literally leaked out of his face, while Qian tried to suppress his feelings with a petrified expression. But finally, he can feel them. He allows himself to give in. He allows Yuan to take care of his world, to let him feel how much he loves and desires him. The power of emotions and sensations are depicted on Qian’s face. He has his eyes closed, tasting every single moment, savouring every single touch. Blissfully.

Yuan's presence is Qian's entire focus. Just as Qian is Yuan's entire focus. And he makes sure that Qian feels good, that he forgets everything, all problems and responsibilities, illnesses and losses, for the moment. He takes care of his world. This one thing he wanted to do for so long, he is finally able to do.

(Well, there is an edited version out now with this whole scene as one without the flashbacks, but I saw the other one first and I loved it, so I stick to it.) The whole scene is repeatedly interrupted by scenes from the past and it is always Yuan. I was also a bit irritated by the time jumps at first, I get why people are annoyed by this, but it makes sense. We know that Qian is Yuan's whole world, the centre around which he has revolved for years and for which he would do anything. We see scenes that led to where they are now. Their shared history. Their shared memories. The sequences speed up and at some point it's just Yuan’s face at its core. Yuan. Yuan. Yuan.

And you can understand, without needing to be told, that Yuan is also Qian's whole world. He is the centre, the heart that gives his own life warmth, with whom he can let himself fall, who knows him better than anyone else, who was always there, even when he physically wasn't, the only one who could tell him to do things he didn’t want to do, the one he can’t fucking live without. And Qian surrenders. The feelings he couldn't allow for so long are now boiling out and we have these close-ups of his face and see how he's longed for it. How touch starved this boy was.

I don't need a close-up of Yuan to know that he's enjoying every single second. Would it have been nice? Sure, but I think narratively, that's the way they wanted and needed to go. And I love this whole scene. It's aesthetic, it advances the story, it's intimate and it's fitting for the show. Because Qian always was Yuan’s world and Yuan is Qian’s whole world.

I just wanted or needed to say I love this scene, its buildup, its pace, its hecticness and this disconnected feeling. It's Qian's scene. It's what we've all been dying for, for Qian to finally give in. And when the emotions overwhelm you, then it becomes hectic, then nothing hangs together and thoughts can't be grasped, can't be put in order. You jump from moment to moment, starting at one point and ending at a completely different one. It's Qian's scene. It's not Yuan's. We've had enough scenes to see Yuan's love and devotion, now it's time for Qian. We are, like Yuan, experiencing Qian in his first moment of absolute devotion. Without time, without place, without anger or fear. He doesn't think about the past or worry about the future, because for the first time he lives in the present. Yuan gives him this security that he can let his guard down, give up the control. I don't think Qian has ever felt as safe, secure, and loved as he does in this moment. And I love it so fucking much! Perhaps I just ignore my little dissappointement in them rushing this whole thing, because I watch those scenes with a narrator in my mind and he is giving me so much more in those scenes than the actual scene shows. But I understand everyone who is dissapointed with this scene and editing.

[dearmrshudson]

The post of saddest(?) supernatural moment gave me the idea to maka a list of my own... You know, an honest list which will not push any agenda or exclude one of the main character completely to forcefully feed to a romantic pair which does not even exist.

so here it goes-

10. Dean's reaction after Sam's death in 13x21 :

This one is so nominal and insignificant to be in this list and not one of top moments for a lot, but this scene ripped my heart open when I saw it for the first time. It manages to show us how Dean's whole world will literally fall apart and make him an empty vessel if Sam is gone and he can do nothing about it - and Jensen manages to portray it with just a walk, two blank eyes and then one drop of tear. Kudos.

9. Church Scene in 'Sacrifice' (8x23):

Anyone who has not cried in this scene? Perfeftly shows the core of the show, the deep love between two brothers- despite all the reasons, all the idiological differences, all the mature discussion and all- Sam is the baby brother of Dean; at the end he needs Dean to be there as a big bro, to tell him to let it go, to clutch him in his chest. Ultimately they will always choose each other and nothing else will come between them.

8. Dean's death in 9x23:

One of the saddest death of Dean, and perhaps it comes to this list because of the build-up and drama follows this. Both had their own reasons for the tension they had this whole season, but when the tragedy comes it hits so hard that all those logics fell apart. It scares to peep in Sam's headspace at this time of dean's dying- imagine you discarding the person you love the most as you are reasonably angry with him, and in a few days he is dying in your arms when you have hardly talked out your differences.

7. Why don’t you believe in us too (14x12) :

Probably should come much later in this list, but this scene stood out in my eyes because it was such a fresh air in the terrible plotless mimicry that SPN had become in later seasons. The scene after ages which sums up Sam and Dean, the codependent brothers whom we had forgotten. Such a long time after we see Sam the little brother, witness the emotional turmoil he was going through silently and how it exploded. The only scene which makes season 14 worth remembering. Also Jared just nailed this scene!

6.) Dead or Alive (3x16):

This scene breaks my heart in pieces. Dean bravely going for the last fight before the horrible death he will be facing. And he trying to cheer up baby bro, he wants the last memory with his brother to be in this car- singing along together... How his face slowly glooms at the end and his eyes full of fear... Early seasons really were gems!

5. Sam in Mystery spot (3x11) :

Undoubtedly one of the best SPN episode with perfect blend of mystery, fun, laughter, tragedy and emotion... The funny vibe of the episode ends in a moment when we see Sam is not waking up from the nightmare loop. Then we see a robot- a scary robot who only wants to get his brother back at any cost. This episode is yet another example of how Sam loves Dean just as fiercely as Dean does, and he is not any less codependent.

4. Barn scene and alone Sam (15x20) :

God! What can I say about this!

Just want to add, Sam wandering alone in the bunker after creamating Dean hurts me equally.

3. John's death (2x01):

Cannot forget this one. This episode happens to be another favourite of mine, and the way John sacrifices himself for his son proves that a father can go to any extent for his children. The farewell scene of John - where he asks for forgiveness and goodbye to dean without him understanding brings tears to my eyes. Such a beautiful acting by JDM and so realistic portrayal of a flawed, helpless and loving father.

2. End of Season 5 (5x22)

The ground was set, the battle was about to begin, the ultimate faceoff between Lucifer and Michael was going to start- then what happens? A stubborn idiot boy with a muscle car and hellbent attitude comes in between- knowing that he cannot survive this- just because one of these celestial entities have captured his brother as a vessel and he won’t leave his brother alone. Till his last drop of blood he keeps on trying- trying to reach his brother who is trapped under something much bigger- keeps on telling that It's okay, he is not alone, his big brother is here. And guess what, he succeed. His brother broke free the bind of one of the strongest entity of universe and fought. The climax scene gives me goosebump always followed by a bunch of grief and saddness the ending carries. Had season 5 been the last season of SPN, and this be the exact way the series ended, I would absolutely have no regret!

1. Sammy's first Death (2x21):

No matter how many sad scenes are perfectly executed in SPN, nothing can exceed the emotion of this one. Jensen will also not be able to exceed the level of performance be set in this particular scene. Period.

So this is it... I must have excluded many. And turns out my list is full of Sam and Dean only and I am also not unbiased 🤣🤣 Well, there are sad scenes that do not involve only the brothers and I still like them, but not my top 10. Maybe have to make list of top 11 to 20 in order to include them. 😁

Please share your favourite saddest top 10 as well.

[starsreminisce]

Hiii!!! I love your blog so much 😍😍😍.

I have a question for you: Do you think SJM could have Elucien reject their bond without exploring it? I feel like for Elriel to have a book, the bond would have to be rejected early on so the story can focus on Azriel and Elain and whatever plot SJM chooses, just like she did for feysand in ACOMAF. It would be weird for Elain to explore the bond and get to know Lucien while building her relationship with Az at the same time. Especially when it’s supposed to be a dual POV. If she’s dealing with both, they both should have their pov as well for it to make sense - in my humble opinion.

Hello! Thank you so much for your kind words!

Short answer: no.

This isn't just Elain's bond to Lucien; it's also Lucien's bond to Elain. As you mentioned with Feyre, she underwent a process of understanding her relationships with Tamlin and then with Rhys, eventually discerning the differences between the two.

We see a similar exploration with characters like Aelin, Rowan, Lysandra, Chaol, and, to some extent, Bryce with Connor and Ithan with Bryce.

When SJM introduces a new character as a love interest, there's typically a lightbulb moment that reveals why one person wouldn't work and then segues into why another would.

Remember Az's bonus chapter?

Personally, a rejected mating bond would have been included as part of Elain's early healing journey. We would have been introduced to this concept in ACOSAF as it sets up the trajectory for the next couple of books.

Consider the dinner scene where Elain attempted to join the conversation but faced challenges, particularly when Amren tells her she can't be human anymore. While the reasons behind Elain's inquiry may remain ambiguous (small talk, genuine interest, existential crisis, powers), Amren later confirms that Elain isn't okay. Then we have Lucien dropping off the presents. We could have been given insight into Elain's potential rejection during Feyre's confrontation, either through Feyre's speculation or Elain's hints, yet it's Mor who reassures Feyre that they just need time and things will work out. Happiness doesn't seem to be part of a rejected mating bond equation—not when it haunts her, not when it drives Lucien to madness, not even when she senses his death.

How will the story proceed with only two perspectives in the next book, considering ACOSF sets the stage for a different narrative structure? It's worth contemplating the trajectory of Elain and Lucien's journey together as they pine over different people while processing their bond. What happens next? Will the following book be a quad POV because their HEA hasn't been realized yet, or will it solely focus on Elain, leaving Lucien's fate uncertain?

I recall reading an Elriel's comment about SJM writing them into a corner. I can't relate—she made the road to Elucien pretty clear to me.

And if she had forgotten that the bond could be rejected until ACOSF, then isn't it telling that she had no plans for it at all?

[octaviasdread]

Mrs Perry, the 50s Housewife & Neil

This entire post is inspired by a discord discussion so I can't take all the credit, but Mrs Perry gives off alllll the signals of a 50s housewife reliant on emotional suppression and prescription pills to cope with the demands of post-war society.

'They used barbiturates to aid in sleep, minor tranquilizers to ease anxiety, and amphetamines to help lose weight and boost energy. [...] Women’s pill consumption signals their difficulties, at times, before feminism of the era explicitly touched upon them' - Erin Brown, You Go to My Head: Women's Prescription Pill Use in Postwar America

Her smoking while she waits for Neil to return with Mr Perry from the play suggests a habit to cope with stress. It’s also notable that she hurries to put it out. Is this a further sign she’s smoking to relieve anticipation, or is it something she doesn’t want Neil to see?

And Mr Perry? His treatment of her can partly be explained by patriarchal family structure. What Mr Perry wants, Mr Perry gets. He is head of the family, and takes the lead in family communications with Neil, so much that beneath Mr Perry's repeated use of 'we,' it's difficult to discern how Neil's mother feels.

In the scenes set in the Perry house, we mainly see the family in Mr Perry's study. This direct parallel to Nolan's office INSIDE Neil's home emphasises the rule of authority over his life, and the extent of how trapped he is.

The parallel is important because Nolan's office is shown as a place of punishment for the students, and a reinforcement of their lack of agency.

More specifically, the deleted scenes show school clubs being dictated to the boys as they stand in front of Nolan’s desk. This confirms that school annual - and the editorial position that Neil earned - is taken from him on Mr Perry's whim, just as his whole life is ripped away the next time he stands beside a desk in Mr Perry’s office.

The hurt and betrayal Neil feels in these early scenes is hidden from Nolan, and he submits to the authority of his father. But Neil can no longer hide his hurt by the end. He has gained and then lost too much to accept the stricter controls Mr Perry is imposing.

So what does Mrs Perry do when faced with her son's obvious distress? Almost nothing.

Her worry for her son is real, but she shows no true support that Neil can rely on. He looks to her for help and comfort twice. The first time, she looks down, then back at Neil, and says nothing. The second time is after she begins to speak, but her one attempt fails, and she falls back into passivity.

She stands aside. It's as if Mrs Perry isn't really there, stuck behind an invisible boundary observing the damage as the scene unfolds.

It's only when Mr Perry leaves that she provides some fleeting comfort - but this comfort doesn't feel present to Neil. She doesn't articulate her support, doesn't touch him, or make signs that Neil can grasp without doubting her belief in him.

Instead of prioritising her son, she follows Mr Perry without complaint, leaving Neil to grieve alone for the loss of everything he holds dear.

This tiny scene says so much about the dysfunctional family dynamic Neil has been raised in. It's impossible to say when it started, or when his mother stopped advocating for Neil's emotional wellbeing, but there's definitely a bond - however strained - between mother and son that isn't shared with Mr Perry.

As @desire-mona has said, Mr Perry uses his wife and possibly her health to guilt and manipulate Neil into following his demands. There's definitely an argument to made for Mrs Perry having fragile health. If this is physical, or a 'nervous' ailment historically diagnosed in housewives, or a combination of the two isn't clear. Whatever it is, she must not be upset.

This puts a lot of pressure on a child, and Neil (understandably) complies under the threat. As the above scene implies, Neil is blamed, and likely blames himself, if Mrs Perry's symptoms get worse around the time he disobeys, or just fails to please his parents.

The Perrys different reactions to stress are clearest at the discovery of Neil's death. The shock causes Mr Perry to bypass anger (although anger returns in his search for someone - i.e. Keating - to blame) and his care for Neil surfaces. This is the first time his care is shown through sympathetic emotion rather than demands for Neil to succeed.

Mrs Perry hurtles into denial. Her body is reacting to distress, but she can't comprehend reality. 'He's alright,' she repeats, retreating into a fragile imagined safety to cope.

@pencileraser1 has also linked the parallels between Mrs Perry and Neil smoking to the possibility of an inherited mental illness.

Being raised in an emotionally abusive household, and internalising the shame of not conforming to Mr Perry's ideal would be enough to contribute to depression in Neil. But I think both mother and son could share dissatisfaction and a desire for escapism.

When faced with the constraints of the larger system they live under, their mental illness plays out in different ways.

Neil finds a healthier outlet behind the backs of authority through the club, acting, and finding an adult mentor to support him, while Mrs Perry has little to no opportunities to escape the confines of the home or the scrutiny of her community.

Once these opportunities (and coping mechanisms) are taken from him, Neil doesn't turn to smoking, escapist poetry, or other forms of temporary numbing. He's seen his parents suburban lives, seen the life they want for him, and perhaps he can't and won't live in quiet compliance the way Mrs Perry does.

I wonder how Mrs Perry copes afterwards? Does she see a decent therapist? Separate (but not divorce) from Mr Perry? Does she take pills and numb herself further? I don't think I want to know.

[tearsofthedrag0n]

This moment says more about Tony’s character than any other scene in NCIS. Argue with the wall.

[enderspawn]

FUCK this is a really good conversation. the Huddle in the hall abt what they should do

[daydreamerdrew]

Gosh, I’ve been trying to speculate as to what disability/disabilities Darla could have and there’s really nothing I feel I could confidently propose simply because Darla hasn’t historically received an in-depth enough portrayal that shows her in enough of a variety of situations and showcasing enough of a variety of issues for there to be anything that I think she textually fits a good amount of the qualifications for.

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: just a short lil blurb idea I had whilst procrastinating from finishing my other two WIP’s xoxo

warning: implied age gap of reader being a “young woman”, but no specific reference to Spencer’s age, I just envision this as a very post-prison thing for him to do

Listen

“Excuse me, lady, but you don’t get to waltz in here and start ordering my officers around. This your first day on the job or something, sweetheart?” The local chief of police smirks down at you, condescension dripping from his every word.

That, coupled with his casual misogyny, is enough to have you smirking right back at him.

Shocker, another old-fashioned cop assuming that a young woman like you doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s almost laughable. Almost.

“FBI Agent first, ‘lady’ second, and ‘sweetheart’? Not under any circumstances. I’m here with the rest of my team to assist you on a case that you’ve requested our help to solve. You don’t like the way we do things? Raise a formal complaint. If you want this case solved, you’ll do well to listen to the advice given. This is far from my first case, and you are far from the first police chief to invalidate that.” Your voice is the epitome of cool, calm and collected.

Naturally, that only aggravates the ignorant man in front of you. More predictable than a- well, actually, there are few things more predictable than the fragile masculinity found in a man like this.

“I’ll be happy to listen to your boss before I take any orders from a girl with a mouth bigger than it ought to be.” The local chief of police eyes you up and down, as if to intimidate you by comparing your stature to his.

Much to his surprise - and absolute dismay - his efforts are in vain. This is made clear when a quiet laugh passes your lips and you lean back against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest and looking to your left.

Moments later, as though emerging from the shadows, Doctor Spencer Reid takes the few large strides necessary to reach your side. A formidable force, exacerbated by the dark scowl that’s etched into his features and directed at the local chief of police. Having not long returned from visiting a crime scene, he had overheard the conversation between you and elected to wait before he stepped in, hypothesizing both how far the ignorance would go, and how long he would be able to hear it before seeing red.

“If you value the continued use of your jaw, I’d advise you close it and listen. Disrespect Agent (Y/N) again and this entire precinct will suffer the consequences of your ignorance.” Spencer’s threat is eerily quiet and, while unprofessional by nature, the intent is understood to the extent that even a local chief of police wouldn’t dare call it into question.

The man caught in Spencer’s glare visibly shrinks, clears his throat, and pretends to find something to very quickly busy himself elsewhere. The glare follows him until he’s out of sight.

“I could have Garcia file a report severe enough to end that man’s career.” Spencer murmurs, gaze fixed on the door that the ignorance left through.

Turning to face Spencer, you smile up at him sweetly and pat his chest, your palm against his tie when the contact snaps his eyes back down to look at you.

“I think making him ruin his briefs in the workplace is punishment enough.” You joke lightly, your words enough to cause a smile to curl at the corner of Spencer’s mouth, a silent understanding caught in your locked gazes.

Nobody disrespects you and gets away with it, not so long as Doctor Spencer Reid is around to commit verbal homicide.

[krummholz-go]

The Final 15 - Aziraphale’s Perspective

I see a lot of empathy for Crowley’s experience during the final 15 minutes of season 2 and it makes sense that we feel deeply for him. What he is experiencing is very human - acknowledging the depth of his own feelings, plucking up the courage to say something, having it come out all wrong, feeling utterly rejected, and then walking away in a mix of pain and anger. Who among us hasn’t been there?

But Aziraphale is experiencing something more complicated, something fewer of us have analogs for. Aziraphale has internally acknowledged his feelings for Crowley for some period of time, probably at least since 1941. Michael Sheen confirms this mental state in a NYCC 2018 interview:

“I decided early on that Aziraphale just loves Crowley. And that’s difficult for him because they are on opposite sides and he doesn’t agree with him on stuff. But it does really help as an actor to go, ‘My objective in this scene is to not show you how much I love you and just gaze longingly at you.’”

Unlike Crowley, Aziraphale’s struggle isn’t acknowledging his feelings. His struggle appears to be two-fold: 1) believing that Crowley could ever love him back and 2) even if Crowley did love him, believing a future for the two of them together could exist within the restrictions of his larger world view.

Can Crowley love?

Angels are, traditionally, beings of love. We see Aziraphale embody this time and again, showing kindness and support to almost everyone he meets, including the amnesiac Gabriel who has treated him abominably in the past. He is attuned to love, remarking on how the area around Tadfield “feels loved” twice in Season 1. As for how Aziraphale personally understands and expresses love, he shows his love to others through verbal affirmation and, to a lesser extent, physical touch. There are many examples of Aziraphale expressing his love for Crowley through positive verbal affirmation, typically by praising him for instances where he has been kind, nice, or good. And on the rare occasions when Aziraphale receives verbal praise, he absolutely interprets it as an expression of love, blossoming with happiness.

But from Aziraphale’s perspective, it may be unclear if Crowley can feel love in the same way. Can demons love? Did he lose that capability when he fell? Crowley can’t feel the aura of love in Tadfield that Aziraphale remarks on, and his reactions to Aziraphale’s praise are always to shrug it off, tell Aziraphale to “shut up,” or in the most extreme case to physically slam him against a wall and get in his face about it. In this last instance he tells Aziraphale, “I’m a demon, I’m not nice. I'm never nice. Nice is a four-letter word.” A four-letter word, like love, that is not in Crowley’s self-defined vocabulary.

If Crowley can feel love, does he love Aziraphale?

Even if Aziraphale believes Crowley is capable of feeling love, he does not always recognize how Crowley expresses it in the moment. Crowley shows his love for Aziraphale through actions, but Aziraphale often misconstrues Crowley’s motivations. In 1793 when Crowley rescues him from the Bastille, Aziraphale initially assumes Crowley is only there because he is responsible for the Reign of Terror. Similarly, in 1941, Aziraphale’s reaction to Crowley’s appearance is to assume he’s just part of the Nazi gang, saying,“I should have known. Of course. These people are working for you!”

Crowley doesn’t help matters in this regard because he is constantly muting and undercutting his signals to Aziraphale. Every time Crowley expresses his love for Aziraphale through actions - rescuing him, saving his books, even taking him to lunch - he does so in a nonchalant, dismissive manner, indicating he ascribes little value or importance to the actions he has performed. “I just didn’t want to see you embarrassed,” he says when he appears in 1941. And when Aziraphale positively glows with happiness about his books being saved, Crowley tells him to “shut up."On top of these confusing signals, Crowley is almost pathologically incapable of expressing his feelings in the verbal love language that Aziraphale can understand. This is heartbreakingly demonstrated in this scene after the bookshop fire:

Crowley can’t even say “I lost you.” Instead he speaks of Aziraphale in the third person while sitting in front of him, saying, “I lost my best friend.” The little hitch on Aziraphale’s face when he hears this is just devastating. Who is Crowley talking about? The last conversation they had before this scene was when Aziraphale called while Hastur was in Crowley’s apartment and Crowley said, “Not a good time - got an old friend here.” Aziraphale is left to wonder - is that who Crowley means when he says "best friend?" Crowley is everything to Aziraphale, but what is he to Crowley?

How Would It Even Work?

Even when Aziraphale does get flashes of the possibility that Crowley may care for him he immediately runs up against his second mental block - there is no world he can imagine where they could be together. When Crowley first suggests running off together in the bandstand scene in S1E3, Aziraphale collapses under the thought: “Friends? We aren’t friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you.”

While he is obviously in denial, Aziraphale is also under tremendous stress in this moment and is desperately trying to hold onto some stability by falling back onto his world view and ideology. In this state he backpedals all the way to “I don’t even like you.” In his understanding of the way the universe is supposed to work, he and Crowley are hereditary enemies and should not even be friends, much less in love. Aziraphale expresses this core belief throughout the series. What kind of existence could they ever have together in reality?

The Final 15

With this as a background, we can better understand what Aziraphale experiences in the final 15 minutes. Even before the Metatron enters the scene, Aziraphale begins to have his fundamental beliefs challenged which puts him off his footing. The revelation that Gabriel and Beelzebub are in love is deeply impactful. When Beelzebub says “I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides” and takes Gabriel’s hand, Aziraphale immediately reaches out to make contact with Crowley, a look of incredulity on his face. Here is proof that demons can feel love and that an angel and a demon can carve out a space together. The road may be difficult, but it is not impossible.

Before Aziraphale can digest this revelation the stakes are ratcheted up: Michael threatens to erase Aziraphale from the Book of Life due to his part in hiding Gabriel. The future that Aziraphale has just barely glimpsed is already under siege. It is at this point that The Metatron enters, offering Aziraphale not just survival and protection, but a version of everything he has ever wanted.

If Crowley is reinstated as an angel, Aziraphale will no longer have to wonder whether Crowley is capable of feeling love. And if they are both angels, there will be no conflict inherent in having a life together. In one fell swoop, the Metatron entices Aziraphale with a future where there are no remaining blockers to an eternal, loving existence with Crowley. It will be “like the old times, only even nicer” because they now have millennia of their shared history to build on together. Of course this logic is horribly flawed and does not take into account at all what Crowley wants, but in the moment it must feel like an enormous gift to Aziraphale.

Unfortunately, not only is Crowley’s reaction to this “incredibly good news” not what Aziraphale expects, the conversation quickly takes a baffling turn for him. Crowley shuts down the talk about returning to heaven and attempts to say what he wants to say. Sadly he once again utterly fails to speak in a way that Aziraphale can understand.

The audience knows what Crowley is trying to say because we have the context of his earlier conversation with Maggie and Nina. But Aziraphale lacks that and thus can’t understand where this is coming from or what it means. Rather than expressing his feelings as Beelzebub and Gabriel did, Crowley recites facts: we’ve known each other a long time, we’ve been on this planet a long time, I could always rely on you, you could always rely on me. He can’t even say the word “couple” when he describes them, referring to them more as colleagues with words like “team” and “group.” And the one time he does try to express his feelings and desires he is physically unable to get out the words: “And I would like to spend—.” He then retreats into his old plea to turn away from heaven and hell and run off together. Nowhere in Crowley’s confession does Aziraphale hear “I love you” or even “I want to be with you.” What he hears instead is what he’s heard multiple times before - Crowley wants to abandon both heaven and hell and default to just the two of them. From Aziraphale’s perspective this will not solve anything for them. They will still be an angel and a demon, at some level fundamentally separated by their very natures.

Having failed in his speech, Crowley then does two things in rapid succession that must be excruciatingly painful for Aziraphale. First, he does the opposite of verbal affirmation by calling Aziraphale an idiot. We have seen Aziraphale become physically radiant in the rare instances where Crowley has praised him, so a direct insult like this must feel poisonous. Then Crowley makes a last desperate attempt to communicate through Aziraphale’s other love language - physical touch - by initiating the kiss. But without context or understanding of what is behind it, Aziraphale can initially only experience it as forceful, angry, and shocking. With more time to parse it I think Aziraphale will come to understand Crowley’s meaning, but in the moment it must feel manipulative and borderline cruel.

The Results

In a very compressed time frame, Aziraphale has to move quickly and radically through multiple mental and emotional states. For 6000 years he has believed he and Crowley cannot be together. Suddenly, with the revelation of Gabriel and Beezlebub, that foundational belief is challenged. Before he can work through what that could mean for him and Crowley, the Metatron offers an even cleaner solution - they can be protected from retribution and be on the same side again. When Crowley rejects reinstatement wholesale, it makes Aziraphale feel that he and his loving offer of a life together have been personally rejected. Then that rejection is further confused through the shocking experience of the kiss which Aziraphale does not have adequate context for or time to understand and integrate. In his emotional turmoil, Aziraphale falls back on his default crutch for dealing with sadness and anger - forgiveness - which further cuts him off from Crowley. Taken all together, this is a tumultuous rollercoaster of whiplash emotions that pull at every part of Aziraphale's self- and world-views.

Compared to what Crowley is going through, I think Aziraphale is going to have the tougher road in Season 3. Crowley may still need to better reconcile and integrate his feelings for Aziraphale, but Aziraphale has 6000 years of foundational ideology to challenge and evolve to reach a place where he and Crowley can be together as their authentic selves.

[rosiethedragongeek]

I can't stop thinking about how Hiccup and Toothless' relationship is built on trust and has been built on trust the whole time. But more than that, it was built on trust from their very first scene.

Hiccup holds Toothless' life in his hands and he chooses to let him go, even though Toothless could very well (and might) kill him.

Toothless then has the power and he could easily kill Hiccup. He probably considers it just like Hiccup did, but he responds to Hiccup's kindness with kindness of his own, and he lets him live.

So when Hiccup goes down into the cove, there is already a tentative understanding between them that neither means to bring the other any harm. You have spared me, I have spared you, we are equal.

But both are still wary.

So Hiccup makes a decision to trust Toothless with his life again when he throws the knife into the lake. Not that the knife would have protected him much from Toothless, but it is presumably the same weapon that Hiccup would have taken his life with to begin with, and it's more about what it represents. So Hiccup gives the power in the situation over to Toothless when he throws the knife away. Now that Toothless doesn't see Hiccup as a threat to him, he calms down.

Toothless trusts Hiccup when he eats the fish Hiccup brought with him the first time, and the basket of fish the next time. Eventually, both of them are relaxed. Hiccup can just sit on a stump and draw in the dirt, Toothless can nap, there is no worry that one will kill the other. There is mutual trust.

They bond, Toothless shares his fish, Hiccup smiles (which Toothless clearly understands to some extent bc he smiles back), Toothless draws, Hiccup plays along w Toothless' game, until finally Hiccup decides to reach out to touch him.

He tried before, when Toothless was resting in the sun, but that didn't go very far, bc Toothless didn't trust him. But NOW, things have changed. They have spent enough time together that Toothless is less wary. But not entirely.

Hiccup sees this, that he is asking for trust from Toothless, so he puts his trust in Toothless first. He closes his eyes and turns away, and just like that, Hiccup once again shifts the power from himself to Toothless. (Cutting the ropes, throwing the knife). And so Toothless trusts him.

[luvonmes-blog]

warnings/labels - MINORS DNI! fem! reader, there a little plot, reader walks in on satoru and suguru, fingering, oral (f and m! receiving), doggstyle, full nelson, there’s sm more but idek tbh just be warned, this is absolutely filthy it came from the depths of my mind.

authors note - based off a picture i saw on tiktok and i’ve been horny since.

this picture btw.

————————————————————————

you hadn’t meant to walk in on the scene that was unfolding in front of you.

all you wanted was a break from the pestering that came from yaga. “y/n do this.” “y/n do that.” “y/n you’re slacking off.” “y/n pay attention.” “y/n you’re better than this.” while you knew he meant well, your body was so tired, absolutely drained from the nonstop hours of training. every time you took a step a sharp pain shot up your left side and your hips hurt from every movement. you tried to explain it to yaga and how you needed a break but he was adamant on continuing to train. (muttering to himself about how if you tried just a bit harder you could be just as good or even better than satoru gojo.) you never paid much mind to it, you knew satoru gojo was the absolute best of the best and with his best friend, suguru geto, beside him. you had no chance of surpassing them, not fully understanding the extent of your own power yet.

so, instead of showing up to your training session with yaga today, you skipped. choosing to wander around the halls of your school. you had been transferred in only recently, yaga had found out about you through the grapevine, hearing people whisper about the weird girl who could do strange things and he eventually convinced your family to let you come back to Tokyo Jujutsu High with him. claiming it would be better for not only you, but them as well. you hadn’t gotten used to your new surroundings yet and barely have gotten to know the people.

exploring your new school was much more fun than being pushed to and over your limit by yaga, you saw other students training, teachers you hadn’t seen before and even spoken to a couple of classmates! it was exciting… until you saw yaga down the hall, fuming and doing only what you could assume was looking for you. you ran the opposite direction, sprinting down the halls until you came upon an empty hallway. you slipped into the first door you could. pressing your back against it and breathing deeply, happy you escaped yaga. but what you hadn’t expected was the sight in front of you when you opened your eyes.

the familiar white hair had another persons fingers buried in them, tugging on the white tufts. that hand belonged to the other man, black hair out of its usual bun. satoru gojo was on top of suguru geto with his tongue shoved so for down his counterparts throat you were honestly wondering how he hadn’t choked. you let out a squeak and the two men separated quickly , suddenly on opposite sides of the couch (it was then that you noticed you slipped into the common room.) both of their faces red in embarrassment and an obvious bulge in their pants.

“i- i’m sorry.” you started to apologize profusely. “i didn’t know you were in here. i didn’t mean to. i’ll leave. i’m sorry- so sorry.” it was nothing but word vomit spilling from you lips. you went to slide the door open but paused. you knew if you went back out there yaga would find you and you don’t think you could handle any training today. with your body so sore and the heat building between your legs, you didn’t think you could handle anything today. before you could move any further, one of the men from behind you spoke.

“it’s fine.” satoru. “it’s our mistake we shouldn’t have been doing that in such a public area.” he reassured you. “how about you just come and take a seat?” he looked over to the stare he felt coming his way, suguru looked at him questioningly, the distaste at him inviting you onto the couch all over his face.

“no! um- no. i sh- should probably go. yaga is probably looking for me.”

“you would rather spend the day with yaga?” it was suguru who spoke now, his voice deeper and oh so smooth.

“well, no but i- i have training to do and stuff so… yeah.” you laughed awkwardly.

“join us.” satoru said, the statement sounding much more scandalous than it should have given your current position. “we insist.” he added, motioning to the space between him and suguru. you look between the two, satorus hands still gesturing to the spot between them and suguru giving you a nod. you make your way over slowly, giving them the chance to change their minds, to kick you out so they could continue about their business but as you sit down next to them you have still yet to realize, satorus gotten you exactly where he wants you. he slides closer to you, so close his thigh is pressed up against yours and you can feel his breathing in your hair. “you’re y/n, right?” you give an affirmative nod.

you feel something shift behind you and look over to notice that satoru is poking sugurus cheek and then waving his hand. motioning for him to come closer as well. suguru slides next to you and now you’re trapped. trapped between the two giant men who are overwhelmingly close, so close you can smell them. satoru smelled fresh, like just out the dryer laundry and linen on a breezy day while suguru smelled warm, like honey and vanilla on a freshly baked pastry roll and the two mixed together had your head reeling. you felt so dizzy from just being between the two and your mind wandered. you wanted them on you. in you. you wanted to drown in them.

“y’know i’ve heard rumors about you.” you looked at him, bright blue eyes that were usually covered by dark glasses staring right into your soul. “i’ve heard you’re strong.” his lips tugged upwards into a small smile. “isn’t that right, suguru?” the way the other man’s name fell from his lips should have been a sin, drawn out and damn near a whine. you wanted to moan just from his voice.

“mhmm.” the dark haired man slid closer, closer than you thought was possible, pressing himself against you. “we heard yaga thinks you could be one of the best. right up here with me and satoru.”

“do you think that’s true?” saturo questioned. you shook your head no. “oh, that’s sad. thought i’d actually have some competition here besides suguru.” he pouted, plump lips pulled down into a frown and you wanted nothing more the to kiss them up into his dazzling smile. his beautiful eyes staring into yours made you more nervous than you’d like to admit so you turned your head forwards, looking at your hands placed neatly in your lap. the boys’ bodies pressed closer to yours, smushing you but you hadn’t thought anything of it, they had been doing this for the past ten minutes. but that had changed when you heard the familiar sounds of lips smacking behind you. your head shot around so quickly you swore you felt a crack in your neck. there they were, making out right in front (technically behind) you.

satoru now had a hand buried in sugurus hair, fingers pulling the dark strands. their tongues intertwining with each others. your eyes were wide, mouth agape as you watched. a hand tracing up your thigh drew your attention between your legs. that hand being satorus and his fingers disappeared into your skirt as the digits pressed against the fabric of your underwear, soaked through with your arousal. his fingers rubbed your clit through the fabric and you moaned. another hand cupped your face, large palm nearly engulfing it before it turned your head. your eyes met with brown ones before his lips were pressed against yours. sugurus lips were so soft and warm against your own. satoru rubbed your clit just right, a moan escaping your lips and suguru took that as a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. with both of the men on you your mind was so muddled with thoughts. what they could do to you what they would do to you. the thoughts that plagued your mind caused a visceral reaction, you keened into sugurus mouth as your eyes rolled and closed.

satoru was mouthing at your neck, surely leaving marks everyone would see. his hand that was rubbing your clit pushing you towards climax as suguru swallows any moans and mewls that escaped your lips. all too soon, both men pulled back. the orgasm satoru was building you up to fizzled away and you could still feel the electricity of sugurus lips against yours. “why- why’d you stop?” you panted, eyes wild as you looked between the men.

“oh~, you want us?” satoru mocked. you nodded your head enthusiastically.

“words.” suguru growled. one hand wrapped around your neck while the other pushed strands of hair out of your face.

“please. please want you. both of you. so bad, please.” you begged unabashedly, no shame in your tone. satorus hands made their way back under your skirt, slipping into your underwear as well. his fingers traced your swollen clit before making their way to your entrance. he rubbed feather light circles around it, making your hips jump, before pushing a finger in.

“she’s so tight suguru.” he giggled. “can’t wait to feel her around my cock.” you moaned aloud before sugurus hand lightly slapped your cheek.

“you should keep it down. you don’t wanna get caught, do you?” your pussy clenched around satorus finger, thighs trembling and suguru laughed. “i bet you do. you’re a nasty little slut aren’t you?” his tone was sarcastic but the words went straight to your cunt. satoru pushed a second finger in, stretching you open. “i bet you want someone to walk in. seeing you cream all over pretty boys fingers right. hm?” he was directly in your ear, his breath fanning over you. “want everyone to see how much of a slut the new girl is.” you clenched so hard around satorus fingers he had to stop moving. your eyes crossed and rolled back from the effects of your orgasm. your chest heaving as the two men watched. a smirk settling onto sugurus lips as he looked at satoru, his eyes gleaming as he felt you pulsing around his fingers.

“aww, look at you pretty girl. cumming so hard jus’ cause of some fingers. aren’t you sweet.” you could hear the smile in satorus voice.

“more.” your voice was so small you weren’t sure they heard you but they did. their eyes locking with each others and it’s like they could read their minds. suguru shifted you so your back was now against his chest. his own legs spread yours apart as satoru got on his knees. he pushed your thighs apart more before suguru cupped them with his hands, lifting them up and open for satoru. he pulled the gusset off your underwear aside and you squeaked as the cold air of the common room met your pussy. you felt so exposed in this position, legs spread wide and unable to move as suguru locked his hands against your stomach. a yelp escaped you as you felt a stripe being licked up your pussy. your cum and arousal gathered on the tip of satorus tongue before he gulped it down.

“she tastes so good, suguru. you gotta see for yourself.” satoru traced his fingers along your slit, collecting your wetness before lifting his hand beside your face, to sugurus and putting his fingers into his best friends mouth. suguru sucked your essence of satorus fingers greedily and you mewled, a low whine escaping your lips.

“he’s right, princess.” suguru muttered into your ear. “you taste delicious.” before you could respond satoru had buried his face into your pussy. lapping at you as if it was the last thing he would do. you moaned so loud you were sure you would get caught. satoru sucked on your clit as he pushed two fingers into you, curling them just right to meet your sweet spot. you keened and suguru groaned into your ear. “as much as i love the way you sound, pretty girl, you gotta keep it down.” satoru heard the conversation above him and pulled back, you whined at the loss of contact. satoru sat up and tapped his hands against sugurus, suguru let go of your thighs and satoru took the chance to slide your panties off. the garment was quickly shoved into your mouth.

“he said you have to be quiet, right? i guess we’ll just have to teach you to listen.” he gave a quick kiss to your cheek before making his descent back down. suguru held your legs back up. satoru nipped at your clit and you jumped, yelp muffled from the underwear in your mouth. satorus lapping at you a like a man starved, tongue buried in your pussy as his nose rubs against your clit. he’s breathing you in and he feels that if this is how he goes - suffocating in your sweet pussy - then he’s fine with that. he moves his face back up, licking at your clit as he pushed two fingers into your tight walls. your cunt clenches around them, wordlessly begging him for more. he pumps them slowly at first and speeds up at he keeps going. your back is trying to arch but failing as suguru holds you snugly against his chest.

satoru is jamming his fingers against your g-spot and spreading his saliva and your wetness everywhere. your cries are muffled due the the panties in your mouth and tears are leaking down your face. you’re stiffly humping satorus face, movements restricted by sugurus strong arms. the movement not only has you grinding on satorus face but also sugurus cock confined in his pants. sugurus panting in your ear, face flushed as you move against him and it takes all his willpower to not cum in his pants. he lets go of your legs and starts pushing satorus head. as he comes up for air from your pussy, looking at suguru confusedly, the dark haired man starts roughly rubbing your clit. his fingers and moving fast and as satorus fingers are pressing into your sweet spot, they send you hurtling over the edge. you cry out so loud you’re not sure the soiled garment that was shoved into your mouth is doing it’s job. what the two men don’t expect is when your pussy drenches satorus face as you squirt all over him. the white haired males face is soaked in your arousal, it dripping from his chin, as his counterparts pants are completely wet through.

“didn’t know you were a squirter, baby.” satoru says as he wipes his mouth with his sleeve. “it’s ok though.” he eyes are dark as he forces you to look at him, his hand has an iron grip on your jaw. “because we’re gonna make you do it again.” the underwear that he previously shoved into your mouth was pulled out and thrown into the distance somewhere. you’re pulled off sugurus lap and he’s pushed back, laying along the couch as you’re on your hands and knees now. satorus quick to unzip his pants and flip your skirt up, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. you stare at suguru in front of you, the large bulge in his pants directly in front of your face. you move your hand up to paw at his clothed cock, cupping him through his pants. you lick a strip up his pants, wetting them as you go.

“please. take them off.” you mutter against him, his cock jumping. suguru hands rush to unzip his pants and slip them down just enough for his cock to spring free. your mouth is immediately licking a stripe from base to tip up his length. he’s so thick, so very thick and you wonder if you’ll be able to take him all. the answer might be no but you won’t stop yourself from trying. just as you take sugurus tip into your mouth, satoru is pushing his cock into you. you moan and your eyes cross as he pushes in inch by inch. he’s long, you can feel he’s not as thick as suguru but he makes up for it in length. when he’s finally all the way in his zipper is digging into your ass and his cock is pressed so deep into you, you swear you can feel him in your throat.

“pay attention to what you’re doing, sweet girl.” satoru whispers in your ear as he hunches over you. “it’d be a shame if you accidentally bit such a pretty cock. trust me, i’d know.” he sits back up and spreads your ass cheeks. watching as your pretty pussy clenches around him. his first thrust is harsh. the wet sound of his cock in you has you moaning, the vibration from the noise has suguru grunting. you start sucking him off slowly, working your way down his cock. satorus face is flushed behind you. red all the way up to his ears as he thrust in and out of you. you’re clenching around him so tight he’s truly wondering how he could go this long without your pussy.

“fuck, just like that pretty girl.” suguru let’s his head fall back as you suck him off. you look so pretty with such a fat cock in your mouth but he’s fears that if he watches any longer, he won’t be able to stop himself from cumming down your throat so soon. “you’re so good with your mouth.” he moans and he sounds so good. if this is how he sounded with his dick down your throat you wonder how he’ll sound buried in your cunt. satorus no better behind you. his head is thrown back as whimpers escape his lips, he sounds so fucked out and you’ve barely started.

“you’re so tight, y’know that?” he whines to you. “squeezin’ my cock so good. gonna milk me for all i’m worth.” he watches as you suck of his best friend and his hand slips into your hair. “you gotta go faster, sweetheart. you wanna get him off? suck him harder.” you obliged hollowing your cheeks around sugurus cock and as you did so, satoru moved you up and down his best friends cock. pushing and pulling you by the hair as he taught you how to suck suguru just right.

“f-fuck slow down!” suguru cries out. you’re moving too fast and he barely has time to announce he’s cumming before long thick ropes are being pushed down your throat. satoru pushes your head all the way down your nose meeting sugurus pubes as he cums down your throat and you moan around his cock. the vibration has sugurus hips jolting from overstimulation. you’re clenching around satorus cock so hard his eyes cross and whines so loud.

“keep going baby, keep sucking him off.” suguru looks at satoru, panicked. you already got an orgasm out of him and such a strong one he’s not sure he can cum again but you listen and you keep going. sugurus whimpering above you and he tries to push you away but satoru slaps his hands. the hand that he was using to guide you on sugurus cock is now between you legs as he rubs your clit. he’s trying to get you close. he knows you are but you just need that extra push, he needs you to cum before he does. his cock is pressed into your sweet spot and his fingers are rubbing over your clit. he bends over to speak to you, his chest pressed against your back.

“baby, i need you to cum for me. please, need it so bad. wanna feel you squirt around me. please.” he’s desperate and his words are just enough to send you over the edge. you do exactly as he says, squirting around his cock, making a mess all over the couch cushions. crying out as he continues to fuck into you. your orgasm triggers his own and presses so deep into you when he cums you swear you can feel the thick ropes entering your womb. you’re panting over sugurus cock and he twitches as your heavy breathes are on him.

“more.” both the boys’ ears perk up at the simple word uttered from you lips. you crawl up suguru, sitting your soaked pussy on his cock and he flinches in over sensitivity. “wanna be full.” you grind on him rolling your hips oh-so slowly and you reach behind you blindly for satoru who lets you grab him a pull him forward. “want to be full with both of you.” the two of them moan in unison wasting no time in lifting you up. your legs are spread aside sugurus hips and he drags his cock up and down your slit. he pushes in slowly, letting you get used to his girth and you moan into the open air. suguru sits up onto his elbows and quickly unbuttoning your shirt throwing it to the side and taking a perked up nipple into his mouth. he leans back down taking you along with him. with your back arched and ass up in the air satoru can see suguru slowly thrusting into you. his thick cock stretching you open.

the white haired man watched you suck sugurus cock into your tight pussy. you’re moaning as suguru sucks your nipple swirling his tongue around it and nipping it lightly his other hand pinching the other. you push back, taunting satoru with a shake of your ass and suguru groans at the friction. satoru presses up against you his cock rubbing against sugurus as he slowly presses his tip into your hole that was already spread by suguru. he pushes in slowly stretching you to your limit and rubbing himself against suguru.

“fuck.” you whimper as he slides all the way in. with him and suguru both sheathed deep within you, you swear you’ve never felt this full. one of them moves and you squeak. “wait! wait, please just give me a second.”

“it’s ok.” suguru rubs your hair. “take your time, pretty girl.” you nod against him, the stretch of the two of them inside burns but eventually fizzling out to a pleasant sting.

“ok.” you whine. “you can move.” suguru thrusts up first, the friction of his cock rubbing against satoru has the white haired boy moaning above you and he starts moving too. the timed difference in their thrusts never leaves you empty and you swear you see the pearly gates. they’re both pressing into spots you hadn’t known existed until now causing your body to tremble, your moans are so loud they’re drowning out satorus whines and sugurus groans. “faster. faster!” they oblige to your commands their hips moving at godspeed.

“she’s so tight isn’t she, suguru.” satoru whines as he fucks you.

“so fuckin tight.” suguru agrees. you’re to blissed out to actually comprehend what they’re saying but you eat it up anyway, nodding as if to agree.

“i’m gonna cum!” you cry out. the two of them pushing towards your orgasm.

“you better fucking hold it.” sugurus demands but you shake your head.

“i can’t!” you sob. fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “i can’t! i’m gonna- ah~” you meant it. before the words leave your mouth you’re squirting all over sugurus stomach, clenching tightly around the two. your vision turns white, eyes unfocused as you have the most earth shattering orgasm of your life. by the time you gain control over your body again you’re still letting out small spurts of arousal onto the dark haired man and his counterpart is rubbing your clit. this brings another orgasm or maybe the first one is drawn out, you couldn’t tell. your face falls onto sugurus neck and you feel the two men’s cocks throb before they’re both filling you up. suguru cums with a low grunt while his toes curl and satoru keens into your ear and feels the orgasm in his spine. your thighs are trembling as they pull out, quaking uncontrollably and your cunt clenches pushing out fat globs of their seed.

“fuck, is that a sight.” satoru chuckles as he watches the globs of his and sugurus mixed cum spill from your cunt and drip onto sugurus balls. “i didn’t really think this through because who the fuck is cleaning all this up.” he looks at the mess you three made of the common room. your clothes everywhere and pools of mixed arousal on the sofa.

“i don’t know.” suguru says dumbfounded and you mutter something sleepily before burying your face into sugurus neck and breathing deeply. as your breathing evens out and gets deeper the two quickly figure you’re asleep. suguru sits up finds your top and covers you back up and pulls his pants up - struggling just a bit with you on his lap. satoru dresses as well and takes you from suguru, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding onto you tightly.

“how about we take her to her dorm.” he rocks you gently as if you’re a toddler in attempts to wake you up. “where’s your room, pretty girl?”

“don’t wake her, satoru.” suguru grumbles before standing up. “i’ll clean up around here.”

“ok so… i guess i’ll take her to my room.” he makes his way to the door already having made up his mind.

“hey,” suguru calls for him “don’t try anything, let her rest.” he warns.

“yeah, yeah i will.” he rolls his dazzling blue eyes. he carries you out of the common room hearing suguru grumbling to himself about the mess and makes his way to his dorm. eventually ending his trek by placing you in his bed and he watches you get comfortable before pushing some of your sweat soaked hair off your forehead and as he noticed your cunt was still uncovered he looked back up to your face. he couldn’t wait for you to wake back up.

he wasn’t done with you just yet.

————————————————————————

i’m literally feral.

[ltleflrt]

Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol

So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.

So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.

Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.

I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.

In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.

(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)

I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.

Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.

This post is for them.

Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."

Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.

Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.

Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.

And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.

AND:

This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.

You're valid. You're one of us too.

And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)

[hayatheauthor]

Everything You Need To Know About Writing Stab Wounds 

Stab wounds are a daily occurrence for a writer. They're a common factor we constantly encounter when writing fight scenes, thrilling action sequences, and moments of intense conflict. However, let's be honest, most authors don't have personal experience with such wounds which can make their descriptions fall short without adequate research.

I'm sure you could find a variety of blogs with advice on how to write stab wounds, but here is my take on everything you need to know about writing stab wounds. 

Types Of Stab Wounds 

Each type of stab wound possesses unique characteristics that can significantly influence your narrative. Understanding these distinctions is crucial for crafting an authentic and engaging portrayal.

Puncture Wounds

Puncture wounds, often inflicted by sharp, pointed objects like knives or ice picks, hold a hidden danger within their seemingly modest appearance. These wounds are narrow, deep, and frequently feature a small entry point. Writers may use puncture wounds to create an element of surprise, as they can be challenging to detect, both for the victim and the reader.

Puncture wounds typically draw less blood externally due to their small entry point. However, they can cause significant internal bleeding if vital organs or major blood vessels are affected. While puncture wounds may seem less severe, their danger lies in the potential for internal damage. They can be life-threatening if a vital structure is compromised.

Puncture wounds can be challenging to identify and treat promptly. Their severity depends on the depth, location, and organs involved.

Incised Wounds

Incised wounds, often caused by slashing or cutting actions, create longer and shallower injuries compared to puncture wounds. Writers use incised wounds when they want to emphasize the emotional intensity of a scene. These wounds tend to bleed more profusely, creating a dramatic visual.

Incised wounds can result in significant external bleeding due to their larger size. The bleeding can be life-threatening if a major artery is severed. While incised wounds are often considered less dangerous than puncture wounds, the extent of damage depends on the depth and location. A deep incised wound can be severe.

Stopping the bleeding from incised wounds can be challenging, especially if a major blood vessel is affected. Immediate medical attention is crucial.

Penetrating Wounds

Penetrating wounds involve an entry and exit point, making them particularly potent in storytelling. The weapon or object not only enters but also exits the body, potentially causing severe damage as it passes through. Writers often use penetrating wounds to add a sense of urgency and criticality to a scene.

Penetrating wounds can cause substantial external bleeding due to the two entry and exit points. Internal damage can also be extensive. Penetrating wounds can vary in severity depending on the organs or structures affected. They are often considered serious due to the potential for significant internal damage.

Treating penetrating wounds can be challenging, especially if the wound involves a complex body area. Surgery is often required to address internal damage.

Sensory Description and Variations

Incorporating sensory details is essential when depicting stab wounds in your writing. Readers engage more deeply with your narrative when they can vividly imagine the sensations and emotions experienced by the characters. To add depth to your descriptions, it's essential to consider the sensory aspects and how they might vary based on the type of stab wound, weapon used, and individual factors.

Puncture Wounds

Puncture wounds often strike with an element of stealth, making them the silent intruders of the injury world. While these wounds may not result in dramatic external bleeding, they carry an inherent sense of surprise and discomfort. Writers can convey this surprise through their characters' experiences.

Puncture wounds can create sensations of initial pressure or discomfort as the weapon breaches the skin and underlying tissues. There's often a delayed realization of the injury. Characters who experience puncture wounds may feel shock, disbelief, or confusion. The absence of immediate, visible bleeding can lead to a sense of unease.

Incised Wounds

Incised wounds, with their propensity for profuse external bleeding, bring a dramatic and painful element to your storytelling. These wounds can evoke intense sensations and emotions.

Incised wounds may produce sharp, burning pain as the weapon slices through skin, muscle, and blood vessels. The character may also feel the warmth of their own blood. Characters with incised wounds often experience immediate pain, fear, and a heightened sense of vulnerability. The visible bleeding can be a source of distress.

Penetrating Wounds

Penetrating wounds, due to their dual entry and exit points, introduce shock and complexity into your narrative. Characters who endure these wounds face a range of sensory experiences.

Penetrating wounds can cause a combination of sharp, entry-point pain and a feeling of hollowness as the weapon passes through. The character might feel blood flow from both ends of the wound. Individuals with penetrating wounds often confront shock, disbelief, and a sense of their injuries being beyond their control. The complexity of treating such wounds adds to the tension.

Anatomy of a Stab Wound

To authentically portray stab wounds in your writing, understanding the anatomy of these injuries is essential. This knowledge helps you describe the injuries accurately, enabling your readers to visualize the impact on your characters. Let's delve into the key components of a stab wound.

Epidermis and Dermis: The outermost layers of the skin are the epidermis and dermis. When a weapon pierces these layers, it often results in bleeding and, depending on the depth and type of wound, visible trauma.

Subcutaneous Tissue: Below the skin lies subcutaneous tissue, which includes fat and connective tissue. Stab wounds that reach this layer may cause more significant bleeding and potentially affect underlying structures.

Muscles: Beneath the subcutaneous tissue, muscles come into play. Stab wounds that penetrate muscles can be painful and may impair the character's movement, depending on the location and severity of the injury.

Blood Vessels: Blood vessels, including arteries and veins, run throughout the body. Stab wounds that damage these vessels can result in severe bleeding, making them life-threatening.

Organs and Vital Structures: Deeper in the body, you'll find organs and vital structures. Stab wounds that reach this level can cause severe internal injuries, often requiring surgical intervention.

Understanding the anatomy of a stab wound allows you to craft more realistic and compelling scenes. 

Medical Assessment and Treatment

In your writing, it's crucial to accurately portray how stab wounds are assessed and treated in a medical context. This not only adds realism to your narrative but also guides your characters' actions and reactions. Here's what you should know about the medical aspects of stab wounds:

Assessment:

Medical professionals follow a systematic approach when assessing stab wounds:

Primary Survey: This initial assessment focuses on vital signs like airway, breathing, and circulation. It helps determine the character's overall condition and whether the wound is life-threatening.

Secondary Survey: In this more detailed examination, medical personnel assess the wound itself, checking for the depth, entry, and exit points, and any potential damage to internal structures.

Treatment:

The treatment of a stab wound depends on various factors, including the wound's type, location, and severity. Common steps include:

Hemorrhage Control: Stopping bleeding is a priority. This might involve applying pressure, using dressings, or even tourniquets in extreme cases.

Wound Cleaning: Thoroughly cleaning the wound is essential to prevent infection. This is often done in a medical setting.

Surgical Intervention: Some stab wounds require surgical exploration to assess and repair internal damage. This could include repairing damaged blood vessels or organs.

Antibiotics: Infections are a concern, especially with deep wounds. Antibiotics might be administered to prevent or treat infections.

Pain Management: Stab wounds can be painful. Pain relief measures, from local anaesthetics to strong pain medications, are considered.

Psychological Support: Characters who have endured a stab wound may experience psychological trauma. Medical professionals might provide initial psychological support, but long-term counselling could be necessary.

Understanding the medical assessment and treatment process allows you to depict your characters' experiences more authentically. It also provides insight into the potential challenges and emotional responses your characters might face.

Psychological Impact

Stab wounds not only inflict physical harm but also leave lasting psychological scars. In your writing, it's essential to delve into the emotional and mental repercussions of such traumatic experiences. Here's what you should consider:

Immediate Responses:

Shock: Characters who sustain a stab wound might initially experience shock, characterized by disorientation, numbness, and a sense of unreality.

Fear and Anxiety: The threat of death or severe injury can trigger intense fear and anxiety. Characters may relive the traumatic event in their minds.

Pain: Physical pain, especially in the immediate aftermath, can be overwhelming and dominate a character's thoughts.

Long-term Effects:

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD): Some characters may develop PTSD, characterized by flashbacks, nightmares, and severe anxiety triggered by reminders of the event.

Depression: The experience of a stab wound can lead to depressive symptoms, including sadness, loss of interest, and changes in sleep and appetite.

Anxiety Disorders: Characters might develop generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder, or specific phobias related to knives or violence.

Survivor's Guilt: If other characters were injured or killed during the same incident, survivors might experience profound guilt and emotional turmoil.

Change in Personality: A character's personality and behaviours can change after experiencing a traumatic event. They might become more withdrawn, irritable, or hypervigilant.

I hope this blog on Everything You Need To Know About Writing Stab Wounds will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[simpingland]

Heyy beauty!

Can i request a Harwin break my back Strong x wife Targaryen reader fic where he beats the shit out of someone who disrespects her. He gets out of it with no consequences, reader looks after him & it ends in smut💋

(I'd appreciate it if u could do more Harwin fics cause lord knows I'm thirsty for it😭)

How to fix an aching nose.// Ser Harwin Strong x Targ!Wife!Reader. Smut.

Summary: Harwin cant believe his luck, married to a targaryan princess, being completely in love with her, her being madly in love with him...Not many believe his luck neither. Only his wife can prove him that its all real.

Warnings: p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), a Lannister being punch.

Harwin was more than anxious to have you, his dearest wife, alone for more than the few moments you were allowed, to what extent could he reminisce about your wedding night? His mind was elsewhere during the hunt, listening only to his father's instructions, and ignoring the lords. Ever since he married you, he had felt the looks they gave him, full of envy of course. Few dared little more than stare, the stupidest could dare to vocalise it. And Lord Tyland Lannister was one of those fools.

"I see you are distracted, Ser Harwin," said the Lord with a mocking laugh as he watched the stag slip away from him at close range. "Marriage...always has the same effect on men."

He chuckled, a few laughed with him, but most gave him a dirty look, and Harwin set his spear aside.

"What effect do you mean, Ser Tyland?" he asked dryly.

"Well, the effect of women. They are a constant headache."

"I don't think you should speak so of wives when you haven't managed to marry a single woman since you've been at court, my lord." He wanted to leave it at that, but Tyland had taken offense.

"When one wields so much fortune, choosing a wife to entrust to him is a different task. I suppose you don't know what I'm talking about now, Ser Harwin."

Harwin walked toward him, towering over him. It clearly frightened him.

"I don't need to brag about money to show my wealth. And that I think if you are able to understand."

Tyland was silent for a second. Everyone had turned to watch the scene, except your father, the King, who was too sore to pay attention. None of them listened as your father asked for your presence to escort him to his tent without making a fuss. So Harwin turned to continue the hunt without being aware that his own wife was walking towards the scene. Neither was Lord Lannister.

"You certainly took a treasure for the little price you must have paid...you took a very possible wife from me." Tyland was whispering it to Harwin now, purposely irritating him. "Though...perhaps you did me a favor. A princess who chooses someone like you should not be driven by anything but lust and madness. Maybe your wife is a lot cheaper than we all thought."

Then Harwin exploded. With the first fist he knocked out two of Tyland's molars, and with the second he buried him in the mud. None of Ser Lyonel's orders were heard as he tore Tyland apart, only the insults towards you, raging. They tried to pull him away, but he was still there. And there you found him.

"HARWIN!" You shouted, running towards him. It took him a while to notice you, he looked at you, a little frightened that you had seen him be so savage.

"He insulted you" he said quietly, then looked at Tyland "YOU INSULTED THE PRINCESS!"

And he gave him one last kick before he was pushed away by the guards. He had to be pushed away until he was led out of the hunt, and he only looked at you, begging your forgiveness for the disturbance. Your father was disoriented, and only understood what was happening from the words of one of the guards. And you had to wait to get your father to his bed before you met Harwin.

"What happened?" you asked as you entered your tent. Harwin was waiting for you, on his back and standing. When he turned around you saw his nose was bleeding. You ran to wipe it. "Gods! Did Tyland do that to you?"

"He wishes it was him, my love...it was one of the guards."

"I suppose it's because you've hit him first, isn't it?"

He smiled, because he knew you as well as you knew him. And he watched your concern disappear with every second, seeing your smile again.

"I'm not going to let anyone walk all over me. Not me, not you," he said, kissing your neck as he hugged you, lifting you off the ground and pressing you against his chest.

"Oh, Harwin, and why do you say that?"

You wiped the blood from him as he told you the story. It was starting to bruise a little, but had stopped bleeding after he put a cold cloth on it, holding it patiently and letting it play with the ties of your dress.

"I don't want you to think I'm just a... a beast too. I hold my anger a lot more than you think. Only you make me feel at peace, wife." He ran his hand through your hair.

It certainly hadn't been easy to convince your father. The Strongs were beloved at court, but Harrenhal was not a place of good repute, and marrying the King's second daughter to a notorious brute like Harwin "Breakbones" Strong had caused much controversy. You succeeded after years of hiding in the corridors, and every night Harwin could only draw on his imagination to do more than kiss you, for he had always put your reputation and honour before his desires.

You had only been married a short time, but it had been a season since you two had spent time alone. Your elder sister Rhaenyra was keeping you by her side at night, uncomfortable with her first pregnancy, and in the mornings, Harwin was too busy catching up on his duties as heir to Harrenhal.

Still, it didn't take away a single ounce of excitement, you craved each other throughout the day, and Harwin always managed to pull you aside to talk or kiss you. Either was enough for him, but he really wanted you back in his bed.

"You don't look like a beast to me." You put your hands on his neck, sat on his lap, you could feel his bulge on your leg. "And even if you had looked like one, you forget I've never been the person who holds his reputation in the highest regard, remember?"

They smiled, Harwin remembered in fact, more than once he had had to push you out of his sight because you had guided his hand where maidens should not be touched, all before you were married. You kissed him first, and when he was training you watched him from your window, catching his eye and "accidentally" showing your breasts. In the dark of night he had to pick you up off the floor because you had knelt before him. And in between all those moments Harwin couldn't help but be captivated by you, begging the King for your hand.

"I remember everything. You are far more beastly than I, my wife..." His member began to grow as he remembered, your scent right there, he captured your lips.

"You have offended me," you faltered, pulling away from the kiss. "Show me who the beast is here, Ser Breakbones."

One swift movement and he unfastened the bodice of your dress, freeing your breasts, and brought one to his lips. And as it sank to your chest you giggled at his eagerness, enjoying the tingle that formed on your legs as you felt Harwin's saliva run over your tits.

"Do you find this amusing, my princess? Having me sit here?" He ran his hands under your skirt, stroking your pearl as if by accident, but you knew he wasn't, that he was doing it to ravish you.

"I do find it a bit funny, I'm afraid..."

He stilled your laughter by throwing you onto the bed they had set up for you. Remarkably smaller than the one in your room back in the Keep, but Harwin didn't plan to use it much. He removed what was left of your dress, leaving you now completely naked. Your body being a spectacle for him.

"Well I'm no clown, of the many tricks they know how to do, I doubt very much they know how to do this."

He rested one hand on the bed, circling you on top of you, and the other he used to turn you, your back, your ass facing the outside. He caressed your back, stroke both cheeck of your ass and finally touching your cunt. One finger entered first, stirring your discharge with your clitoris and eliciting a soft moan from you. He watched you watching him, mouth half open. He was so handsome, with his smooth coat but rugged features, Harwin was all man. He inserted a second finger, and the third was not long in coming. Then he began to shake his hand rapidly, lifting your entire pelvis to his rhythm. You couldn't help but cry out as you felt such continuous pleasure.

"No..." whispered Harwin, pulling his face closer to yours, "no one knows how to do this to you like I do..."

Pleasure engulfed you, and Harwin could see you come to orgasm, you moaned millimetres from his lips, which he felt as if it was feeding him. He let you rest, and before he could lick his fingers with your arousal, you took his hand to lick them for him. If he was already excited before, Harwin had to hold back a moan when he felt the friction of his own pants squeezing his erection.

"Now let me reward you, my Lord, for defending my honour..." you removed his shirt, and kissed his big abs. But you made him suffer as you reached for his trousers, unbuttoning them bit by bit, not until you had removed them completely did you focus on his member.

Fat and in proportion to your husband, his cock needed two hands to massage it well. First you gave him a little kiss on the tip, as if in greeting, and looked up at Harwin, who seemed impatient but loved your gaze as you knelt before him. You were beautiful from every angle, and your eyes sharpened from that perspective. He pushed your silver hair aside as an excuse to touch it, and he never pushed your head, you always managed to make him enjoy at your own pace. You licked the tip for a while, but before he could cum, you took as much of his cock into your mouth as you could, knowing which way to guide it so you wouldn't gag. You sucked slowly but intensely, using your cheeks to make your mouth tighter. You were just about to make him cum when Harwin decided to take the reins again.

He caught you by surprise when he pulled away from you to pick you up off the floor, placing you in his arms as he did when he rescued you from troubles you usually got yourself into. One arm around your back and the other around your legs, your hands resting on his shoulders and with the opportunity to kiss him right there. Indeed, you didn't need the bed very much. You didn't quite understand what Harwin was up to, but when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, your hair stood on end. He was moving slowly up and down you, preparing to bury himself all the way in.

"I am convinced that there is no better pussy than yours in all of Westeros, Princess..." his voice was husky, his scent captivated you, and he kissed you tenderly when he wasn't kissing you with tongue.

"So what are you waiting for to enjoy it?"

He lured you to his lips to distract you, but you finally felt him enter. Gently, but creating that special fraction you'd longed for for years before you were married. Harwin broke the kiss to moan, of course this was his favourite part of fucking. He didn't usually do it fast, he liked to pace himself, and for such a big, rough man, he liked to sink into your pussy delicately, whether it was his instinct to protect you, or his instinct to enjoy it. His hips set the pace, as he raised them, his arms lowered, and you felt his full length fill you. He began to speed up the rhythm, he had plenty of strength left, and when he increased you could hear him enjoying himself, making you enjoy yourself.

"I'm going to cum...I'm going to cum..." he announced.

Then he laid you back down on the bed. You had no plans to have children yet, so you liked to experiment a little. Harwin positioned your legs apart, and took out his cock to rub it against your clit, fucking your vaginal lips and causing you unparalleled pleasure. You had your second orgasm seconds before you felt Harwin's semen spilling out of your pelvis, with a sweet moan leaving your husbands lips.

He rested his forehead on yours, and you kissed his aching nose.

"Wow...you sure made me feel better, wife." He moved to your side, pulling a blanket over you both, cuddeling you in his arms.

"Yeah...I've missed you too."

"I meant the kiss on the nose...but the rest was good too."

You laughed before threatening to make it bleed again. Harwin was willing to take a million punches as long as his princess was there to kiss his wounds afterwards.

[howtofightwrite]

I'm writing a scene where a cultivater (chinese martial artists who fights ghosts) falls in a forest and I'm trying to figure out how someone who fights on rough terrain would train to fall. I tried looking at martial art/parkour/stunt man tutorials, but I feel like a lot of the basic techniques (rolling, and slapping the ground to distribute weight) wouldn't work well on uneven ground. I also tried looking at hiking advice but they just say to fall on your pack. Any insight?

Chinese cultivators don’t fall, they choose to reacquaint themselves with the ground.

That sounds like a joke, but the best way to understand Chinese cultivators and Chinese fantasy media is to realize that martial arts are the gateway drug to magic. And that will get you into a lot of trouble if you follow that all the way into Martial Arts Give You Superpowers, which is both the outgrowth of the western understanding of Chinese culture and a trope rife with orientalism. Cultivation seems simple on the surface when you’re watching Chinese media, but it’s more than martial arts, it’s more than religion, it’s more than mythology, (though it is all of those too) it’s a genuine transition into metaphysics that reorients how we understand and interact with the world around us. The concepts we see in cultivation come from real martial arts philosophy that you find in Tai Chi, Shaolin, and most other Chinese martial arts. They come from real religions including Daoism, Buddhism, a healthy dose of Confucianism, general mythology and mysticism from a wide range of subcultures, and, to an extent, Animism. If you aren’t doing your reading with the Eight Immortals, Journey to the West, The Legend of the White Snake, and others then you should dig in. I also really suggest watching the live action C-Dramas whether they’re true Wuxia or more Xianxia idol dramas (and in this case the idol dramas are better because the action is slower) so you can acquaint yourself with the stylized martial arts portrayals, a wide variety of choreography, character archetypes essential to motif based storytelling, and the most important aspect of all—wire work.

Understanding and conceptualizing stunt action done on wires is essential when you’re trying to visualize and create action scenes in any East Asian genre. Your first instinct might be to dismiss the stylized movement as unrealistic (it is) but remember that it’s also genre essential. Hong Kong action cinema has a very specific feel to it that’s very different from the way Western cinema structures and films their fight scenes. Even when you’re writing, you’ll want to find ways to imitate it through your visual imagery on the page.

Probably the best way to contextualize cultivators is that they’re wizards who do martial arts. They’ve learned to transcend the limitations in our understanding of reality through knowledge and study to perform superhuman feats. How superhuman? Well, it gets wild. They can be anywhere from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon/Who Rules the World fly through the trees levels to Shang Tsung’s “I’m going to slam my hell reality into your normal reality because commuting to work is too much of an inconvenience.”

Which is to say, they don’t always fight ghosts. Sometimes they fight other martial artists, sometimes they fight other cultivators, sometimes they fight demons, sometimes they fight gods, and sometimes they fight incredibly overpowered monkeys. They’re often monks living in seclusion on a mountaintop, but not always. Cultivation is more of a state of mind. Anyone can do it if they learn how to absorb spiritual energy from the world around them through meditation and breathing exercises. Gods cultivate. Humans cultivate. Animals cultivate. Remember, the demons and the ghosts cultivate too. Sometimes, your master gets reincarnated as a demon. Sometimes, you do. The amount of wacky spellcasting you can do is dependent on how much energy you’ve cultivated, which is dependent on how old you are and how good at cultivation you are. Using the power means you need to cultivate more energy, the greater the spell or difficult the battle then the more energy is lost.

This is important to the question of: how does a cultivator fall?

Metaphorically? Existentially? Physically?

When we’re talking physically, wire work becomes very important. Think of your cultivator as being on wires. If they have the knowledge and understanding to do it, they can slow their own fall through the air to land harmlessly on the ground or twist over like a cat and launch themselves back off the ground to fly at their opponent in a counter attack. If they have the knowledge and understanding, they can teleport. If they lack the knowledge and understanding or want to trick their opponent, they can hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. If they’re relying on basics, they can also smack the ground to counter and spread out the impact then use the momentum from that fall to roll back onto their feet. They’ll do it no matter what terrain they’re on because it’s a basic technique that’s trained into their foundation to the point it’s a reflexive action. Any force distributed away from, and reducing impact on, important body parts like your spine is better than nothing. It’s better to sacrifice your arm than be paralyzed. At its heart, that’s the point of the technique. If you’re able to walk away with a functioning spine, it’s done its job. Your shoulder hurts? That’s normal. Your arm is sprained or broken? Sucks, but that’s better than the alternative that is paralysis and death. For reference, learning to fall was the first lesson my Wushu instructor ever taught me. It is that basic.

A lot of the time when portraying cultivators in media, the goal is to show them as being beyond the limitations of standard martial artists. How vast the gap is between the cultivator and the average human is dependent on both the setting and the cultivator. So, the average martial artist who possesses superhuman talents but hasn’t dedicated themselves to a life of cultivation and cultivators who are new to the path are going to be on the rung below and more likely to be knocked on their ass. Cultivators in the mid-range are more likely to have crafted or trained in solutions to being knocked on their ass which put them in a less vulnerable position while recovering and empowered/enhanced their martial arts. Cultivators in the top tier are usually straight up masters at spellcasting, if they deign to fight at all. Gravity need not apply. Rember, the time it takes you to hit the ground and roll to your feet is time your opponent has to launch a counter attack or move to a better position. Also, it means you’ve taken your eyes off your opponent. This is bad enough against a normal human opponent. Against another mostly immortal or ancient magic user this risks a terrible outcome.

Cunning and strategy are both as important as skill. Wisdom, knowledge, and hard work outweigh talent and raw potential. You’ll have to decide how esoteric you want to be and what limits you want to set. I really urge you to do this because the danger of power creep is real and especially prominent here. A character’s growth in power is often linked to their growth in character or their arc, as they gain a greater understanding of themselves and the world around them their skill increases. The self-discovery/self-reflection/self-interrogation/intense suffering to reach enlightenment portion is just as important and intrinsic to the martial arts portion of Martial Arts Give You Superpowers. It’s easy to focus on the Superpowers or the Martial Arts parts of the equation and miss the genre necessity of character growth. This growth often happens through heaps of steadily increasing trauma. Or, failing to undergo that by being too powerful and thus unable to progress is the joke like it is in Qi Refining for 3000 Years. (Go to hell, Bai Qiuran, you hilariously overpowered monstrosity.)

The irony is that the trajectory in character growth is the same trajectory the average student experiences when practicing martial arts. The only difference is that the power arc is inflated. This includes overcoming ingrained truths that you believe about yourself, about your own abilities, what you believe yourself to be capable of (both good and bad,) about your biases toward yourself and other people, your biases about reality in general, your understanding of good and evil, the potential upending of right and wrong, and facing the greater complexity found in the world at large. The stripping away of these illusions, coming to terms with uncomfortable realizations in a more complicated world, and the gaining of new understanding and confidence are vital to that growth.

Skill isn’t just represented in the power creep, it’s also found in a character’s sophistication and complexity in their approach to combat and life in general. Their awareness both of themselves and of other people, their ability to read intentions, their predictive abilities, their complexity in initiating their own strategy and tactics while also recognizing and countering the plans of others. It’s their insight into human nature and their cunning. It’s not enough to be powerful. The world is full of powerful people and not so powerful people who have the capacity to be just as dangerous. This isn’t Goku and Freeza slamming into each other while the planet explodes in nine minutes. You also need to be smart. It’s also not about being a better person. It’s about being a self-aware person. A person who is self-actualized. Monkey’s growth is in his awareness of the world around him through his experiences and in approaching problems differently rather than becoming less of a little shit. If you grow up in the West, one of the issues you’re going to face is thinking of these hurdles as materialistic rather than emotional or intellectual.

A lot of Western media misinterprets the concepts of “giving up” as physical sacrifice. One of the popular examples is physically sacrificing the person we love. In order to have enlightenment, we must be separated from them. We can’t physically be with them anymore. Whereas under a Buddhist structure, what we are actually sacrificing is our own ignorance, our own preconceptions, and beliefs that keep the world comfortable. Under this structure, we’re sacrificing our preconceived notions of who our loved one is. The person that we invented when we first met and we must force ourselves to come to terms with who they really are. The outcome of this isn’t necessarily going to be bad, but it’s still painful. The person we think we love could be perfectly wonderful. However, they’re not who we imagined. If we choose to hold onto the illusion we created, to ignore the realization that the illusion is the person that we love, we’ll only end up causing ourselves and our loved one more pain. We must fall in love with them all over again. Coming to terms with that is painful. All pain comes from ignorance. In sacrificing, letting go of, or overcoming our ignorance, we grow.

These are the emotional, intellectual, and spiritual challenges necessary for a cultivator because they allow the cultivator to level up. Yes, level up. Whether this is coming from the influx of gaming culture into media at large or because the concept synergizes with the Buddhist goal of progressing through the Six Realms toward nirvana, leveling up is how a cultivator’s increasing power is often depicted. Of course, once we reach the next level we can’t go back except by falling or failing and are no longer the person we once were. This then gets mixed in with Daoist principles of finding divine understanding by living in harmony with the universe. The more understanding we gain of the world, the more energy we can absorb as a result, but our original goals may be lost or changed in the process. If a character begins their journey on the path of revenge, their newfound contextualization of the situation that caused them immense pain may force them to give that revenge up or find they don’t want revenge anymore.

Failure is also an option and often a common part of the story. These stories usually follow characters through multiple lives and rebirths over hundreds and even thousands of years, especially if they’re also gods. This is the existential fall. The fall to the Dark Side. All our heroes are going to go through it at least once. This is also why a lot of Chinese media ends in tragedy with hope for the next round.

-Michi

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