#i love women who have loved and lost and not for the sake of progressing the plot but as a genuine character morivation

[kaquyas]

thinking tsunade thoughts dont look at meeeee

[genericpuff]

I was reading your essay on "fat" rep in LO and as woman who is overweight, maybe not but definitely chubby/pudgy and often getting shit for it by my family... Do we ever see Persephone with a not-flat stomach? Even just a little protruding, not necessarily round. Or a double chin? I know fat looks different on different people, but... To me that seems like a pretty obvious way for an artist to show their character is meant as fat rep. If Rachel actually wanted that, I mean.

There are definitely times Rachel tries to draw her "fat" but it feels so tone deaf because it's still just like... as I've mentioned in my essay about it, it's "Hollywood fat", i.e. the kind of belly pouch fat that many women have that's often painted as ugly even though it's very commonplace to have (because no person is entirely flat! we're humans, not planks of wood!) The problem is if you try to quantify as little amount of fat as possible as "fat representation", you can't really call it fat representation because it only represents people on the lower end of the spectrum of fat. Here's an example of what I mean when I tried to find that one specific image example I was thinking of that I had seen ages ago lmao (this isn't the one I was thinking of but it gets the same point across):

Yes, cartoon stylization is a thing, but watch out for the folks who say they can't draw fat people because "it wouldn't suit my style", it falls into the same type of excuse camp as Tim Burton saying black people wouldn't suit the "aesthetic" of his films. They actually could draw fat characters in their style, it's more likely they just don't want to (but don't want to admit to that).

And honestly, if someone just wants to stick to drawing characters of a specific race, body type, etc. that they're familiar with, that's not a crime in and of itself IMO, but don't claim that your work is representation for a group when it's really only carrying the bare minimum or if you're just forcing it for the sake of seeming progressive. That's pretty much where LO falls, its "fat representation" only represents the bare minimum of fat that doesn't apply to the people who are looking for legitimate fat rep in media. Sure, there will be people who will still connect with that body type, especially for people who have stretch marks or belly pouches, but can it really be called 'fat rep' on the whole when it's not going to connect with the people who are genuinely fat? I'm someone who's gone through weight gain and struggled with body image, while I can totally relate to the type of body Persephone has where she (sometimes) has a muffin top and cellulite on her legs, that doesn't make her "fat representation" as a whole because she doesn't represent the women who are genuinely fat beyond chubbiness or being "not flat".

All that aside, the only indications of Persephone being 'fat' are the odd panel where Rachel gives her a belly or "stretch marks" (tbh they look less like stretch marks and more like scars from a bear attack lol):

But then she'll also draw Persephone with a straight up bodybuilder torso and have her say outloud that she's "small-medium":

It all feels very tone deaf because it's Rachel trying to have her cake and eat it too - she wants to draw Persephone as her usual small cinnamon roll self who can be infantilized and fetishized by the men around her (which Rachel loves to write and draw btw) BUT she also wants to try and take credit for Persephone being "fat rep" so whenever she remembers to do so, she'll throw in her laziest attempts at making Persephone seem "fat" but really she's just the Hollywood version of "fat" by having a belly pouch and stretch marks that many women of varying sizes have regardless of weight changes. We can't even assume that she may have been fat at one point and lost the weight (leading to the stretch marks) because we've seen Persephone in basically all stages of her life from childhood to adulthood. She's always been itty bitty and her entire personality and relationship with Hades is written around that.

[alice-after-dark]

So...the falling out (ft. why Vox is in Hell)

(Getting this out of the way, I have VERY mixed feelings about Valentino. On one hand, he is a great character. On the other had, he is an absolutely horrible person and I just can't bring myself to like him the way I love Vox and Velvette. I am very interested in seeing what the show does with him and how he is handled, considering the concept is all about redemption and the dude has done some pretty heinous shit)

But ultimately this post is about Alastor and Vox and their falling out and what - or rather who - caused it.

TW for implied sexual abuse, abusive relationships, gaslighting, manipulation, and other canon-typical triggers. Also gonna put homophobia with the disclaimer that Alastor doesn't actually mean it that way, but that's how Vox hears it. Perceived homophobia is more accurate. This also technically contains StaticMoth but I'm not tagging it because it's not exactly in favor of the relationship and I don't want to dump it into the tag of people who enjoy the ship.

See, while Alastor may be a serial killer, we see that he has his own twisted moral compass, so someone like Valentino rubs him in all the wrong ways. He greatly dislikes the moth and detests the idea of any association with him.

Vox on the other hand, well, scumbags are a dime a dozen in his industry. From his perspective, it's just something that comes with the territory, a necessary evil. You want to succeed in this industry? You put up with some nasty behavior. So when he sees Valentino rising to power and creating his own empire, he only sees the business potential. His industry has already well trained him to turn a blind eye to things like Valentino's unsavory nature for the sake of progress and his own success. How he feels about things on a personal level doesn't matter. The industry doesn't care about your sensitive little morals (will probably expand on this further in a different post, but I do believe that Vox learned the hard way that no one cares and you have to do what you have to do to get ahead).

So when Vox initially proposes an official partnership, Alastor is actually down...until he learns Valentino will be a part of the package. This leads to them arguing, Alastor basically telling Vox he has to choose between them, the first time Alastor calls Vox a "pathetic sell out," and the Radio Demon flat out accusing him of whoring himself out to Valentino for a business deal (this one particularly hurts because, again, the idea of sleeping with someone to get a better deal is just par the course for Vox. He's learned to push down those feeling of self-disgust and now here Alastor is dragging them out into the spotlight and shaming him for it). Alastor utterly refuses to be associated with Valentino and is disgusted that Vox would even entertain the thought and this ultimately ends with a fight and them parting ways, both feeling self-righteous, betrayed, and offended by the other.

And Valentino, having witnessed the entire thing and ever one to take advantage of a situation, gets his claws deep into a VERY insecure and hurt Vox by just reinforcing that Alastor never cared about him and was just using him for entertainment.

"But don't worry, Voxxy. I care about you..."

And now Vox, who has spent his entire human life hiding that his attraction extended to men as well as women and is desperately looking for comfort after losing someone he allowed himself to care very deeply about, falls right into the moth's trap, ironically getting himself into one of those situations he always turned a blind eye to (it is Hell after all and what is Hell without ironic suffering?).

Meanwhile Alastor has lost one of the few demons he viewed as a true ally and friend and to make it sting all the more he lost them to someone like Valentino. The very idea that Vox picked a disgusting creature like Valentino over him is crushing. He feels used, discarded, and worthless (which is a state ripe for some bad deal making, wouldn't you say?).

Tis all for now. Would love to hear people's thoughts on this!

[bookish-monster]

RECOMMENDATION

Providence Girls

by Morgan Dante - find them on Twitter and Instagram as well

The StoryGraph link contains information such as publication date, page count, and community-created content warnings

Providence Girls by Morgan Dante is a standalone sapphic novella set in H. P. Lovecraft’s cosmic horror universe in the 1930s and 40s. The story is a slow burn buildup of the romantic relationship between Lavinia “Vin” Whateley, an SA and incest survivor who fled from Dunwich, Massachusetts to East Providence in Rhode Island, and Asenath “Azzie” Waite who abandoned her hometown of Innsmouth for East Providence in an attempt to escape the slow transformation of her body and mind into an eldritch being of the sea.

I really loved this book! The prose is luscious but curt, using a lot of short, sharp sentences full of vivid description. The opening scene of Vin fleeing her murderous father (who intended to sacrifice her to a Great Old One after she bore its hybrid children at his… behest) and getting lost and delirious in the wilderness of New England is beautiful but unforgiving. Everything is described, from the bird calls and inquisitive wet nose of a bear cub to the infected cut on Vin’s foot that oozes pus and blood.

The chapters bounce between the first-person POVs of Vin and Azzie, who are both writing down their thoughts of each other. They often address each other in their respective sections, reflecting on their relationship with one another and how it developed over the course of less than a year. The story is very slow in the beginning and middle, focusing on the humdrum daily affairs of Vin learning to be her own person outside of her abusive father’s shadow and Azzie slowly opening her heart to her new housemate as her transformation progresses. The tension between Azzie and Vin grows stronger with every page, and feels realistic for two women who have been deeply wounded but nonetheless crave intimacy and trust. 

A lot of this book concerns itself with the misogynistic violence that was present in the earlier half of the 20th century in America, as well as with the misogyny that is present in Lovecraft’s writing and universe. Both Vin and Azzie rail against it in their own ways, but are constrained by their gender and society. A quote: “[The doctor] was only here to ensure you weren’t dead. Women disappeared sometimes, and their fathers and husbands were never questioned because what they did with their women was their business.” Azzie is mentioned as being the only woman to have graduated from Miskatonic University.

The entire book feels less like a love letter to Lovecraft’s work and more of a critique of it, an exploration of the women who so often fall through the cracks in these narratives. We see this in Azzie’s unnamed mother, a Deep One who forsook the sea and the eldritch glory of the ocean floor in order to be exiled to the attic of her human husband’s home—all for the sake of watching her daughter grow up on land.

Overall, I absolutely adored this book. The romance between Vin and Azzie is beautiful and heart-wrenching at the same time, as Azzie’s transformation drives her to the edge of death on land—and yet she, like her mother, does her best to ignore the sea for the sake of a loved one. There is definitely sapphic monster fucking here, as well as discussions of what it means to be a monster in someone’s eyes. Providence Girls is a delicious, slow burn meditation on the Cthulhian mythos and sapphic romance within it, and I greedily devoured every word.

Find this book on Amazon Kindle (US)

[garlic-the-gnome]

Chapter 4 of Somebody Told me

Since he’d found his brother’s severed hand on the roof of the building he’d been abandoned on, Daryl had withdrawn himself even further from the group. Without his brother there was no point raiding the camp, most of them seemed to be decent people and he wasn’t going to leave a bunch of kids to starve to death or worse.

The handball he’d brought back had proven to be a hit with the kids of the camp and to his surprise, Amy and Glenn who’d taken to playing impromptu matches between the camp duties before that dreaded night.

Daryl’s more pleasant than usual mood had been spoiled by the arrival of the older Dixon. He was clearly pissed as he stumbled into the camp, attempting to grope several of the women as he made his way towards his younger brother. Daryl was glad that Merle’s speech was indistinguishable as Merle continued to deadname him in front of the whole camp, all but Daryl unaware of what was spewing from Merle’s mouth. It had been further soured when he’d returned form a several day long hunt to find that his brother had been handcuffed to a roof by some pig, who seemed to know several members of the camp. And before he thought his life could get any worse they’d returned from the search for his brother to find the camp overrun with dead, several of the camp members lost to the horde. And the icing on the cake was Merle’s cold dead hand, now safely wrapped and stored in his bag.

The pig’s name was Rick Grimes, Lori’s husband (soon to be ex based on what Lori had been doing with Shane an Andrea round the camp), Carl’s father and that dick Shane’s partner and friend. Daryl wondered if Lori had told Rick about her and Shane and Andrea, since the couple was reunited they seemed to be growing further and further apart. Per the group's newly self-appointed leader, much to Shane’s disgruntlement, Rick, it was decided that they were to go to the CDC. If anyone was going to have an answer for this madness, it would be them.

On the road Daryl avoided Rick like the plague. Stumbling across Rick washing himself at the quarry was all it took for a familiar feeling to begin bubbling up and Daryl was determined to not let it progress into something more. After sneaking off to relieve himself a wave of dread consumed the man.

He was married for god's sake and had a kid as well. His brother would fucking kill him for digging a cop. Although, him and Lori do seem to be drifting apart…NO he’d never love a man let alone a man like me…

A spark of pain in his thumb. He glanced down and saw red gathering around the fresh bite. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now at the CDC, well fed and more than a little tipsy, the group had dispersed into the rooms Dr. Jenner had allocated them. For privacy reasons Daryl had opted to have his own room, unlike many of the other survivors who had chosen to sleep together. In the confines of his own room Daryl removed his shirt and began to lather up his binding tape with some oil he’d snatched from the kitchen that night.

Tape soaked, Daryl sat down on the small couch. It had been what he estimated was a couple weeks since he and Andrea had raided the pharmacy. He stroked his chin, feeling that his once scattered facial hair was starting to thicken out. Looking down to his grimy chest the tape had begun to peel, oil mixing with the dirt caked onto his skin.

Dr. Jenner had advised the group to use just one shower in a room he’d set aside for just that reason.

“There’s no point wasting the hot water by directing it through the litany of pipes that run underneath us and the bonus is that the room will be rather warm if you do decide to take a shower, which I highly recommend you do,” he’d explained, grins spreading across the group at the idea of a hot shower.

Daryl slipped his shirt back on, not bothering to button it up, it was only a short walk to the dedicated shower room. Grabbing two towels from the closet he headed out, hoping not to run into any of the other survivors.

A very drunk Rick emerged out of nowhere as Daryl paced down the hallway, bumping into him.

“Watch it,” he warned, trying to step around the intoxicated man. He’d been avoiding Rick as of late, trying to dampen his growing feelings, and Rick’s tousled hair and exposed collarbones weren’t helping him at all.

“Man you need to relax, and I thought I was uptight, jeez,” Rick mumbled, voice slurred from the alcohol that flowed through his body. Stumbling away from Daryl towards the games room.

Daryl didn’t encounter anyone else on his way to the shower, drunk or otherwise. Now enveloped in the steam filled room, an indication that many of them had also taken up Dr. Jenner’s offer, Daryl turned on the shower and began to undress.

Draping his clothes over the towel rack he took a moment to look at himself in the fogged up mirror. The diet of canned food and squirrels was beginning to show, his pelvis jutting out more than it used to, accentuating his hips to his disgust. Leaning forward to check out his chin in the mirror he gazed at the new hairs that had sprouted as of late, turning his head side to side to get a good look at them.

Stepping into the shower felt like pure bliss, letting the warm water run over his skin, blood and dirt tainted water pooling around his feet. His shoulders relaxed as he leant his head back into the stream of hot water, allowing it to flow through his filthy hair. Reaching for the first piece of tape Daryl began to slowly pull it away from his body. The skin underneath mottled with a few blisters and reddened skin. Daryl continued to remove the tape, exposing more of his tattered skin. The blisters were a nasty reminder that he’d have to wait a couple days before he could bind again, hopefully they still had a couple days at the CDC so he could wait it out, alone, in his room.

Balling up the wet tape and chucking it outside the shower Daryl continued to wash his weary body, his aching muscles loosening under the cloak of the hot water pouring over his skin. He barely recognised his body looking down, more scars littered his body than before, and several cuts a reminder of what lurked outside. Washing away the crusted on blood, some his own and some not, he moved onto his hair. Running his well worked hands through the matted strands.

The shower timing out was a nasty surprise, his nipples hardening from the sudden drop in temperature. An unwelcome jolt of arousal spread throughout his body at the sight of his chest. His clit slowly became erect as he let his hand graze one of his nipples. Eyes flicking up to look at the door, certain he’d locked it, Daryl leant up against the cold tiles of the shower.

Refusing to look down, he began to rub his nipples, heat pooling in between his legs in anticipation. Head hitting the tiles as he gave them a sharp pinch, pleasure rapidly spreading through his body. Leaving one hand to continue playing with his chest he moved the other down his torso, breath hitching as he lightly touched his lower stomach.

Parting his dark curls he saw what he used to dream about. Flushed red and plump was what he sometimes liked to call his dick. It had been one of the things he’d been most excited about when starting testosterone. Rubbing small circles on his dick he let out a small moan, careful not to alert anyone to what he was doing. Increasing his speed he let go of his nipple with one final twist and snaked his hand down to his dripping entrance.

He plunged one of his fingers into himself, still keeping the same rhythm on his dick. Slick running down his hand he pushed a second finger in, desperate to relieve himself. Curling his fingers deep inside himself, stroking his walls, his heart began to quicken. Replaying the vision of sodden Rick in his mind, imaging his fingers lacing through the man’s curls, drawing him closer. His shaking legs began to give way underneath him. Anxious not to slip and hurt himself in the slippery shower, the thought of anyone finding him naked mortifying, Daryl promptly sat down on the bathroom counter and continued chasing his high.

Daryl began to thrust his fingers in and out of himself, he added a third finger, the thought of Rick’s dick pounding into him sending his body into overdrive. A loud groan escaped his mouth as he began to fill his climax approach. His dick was aching with arousal now as he rubbed his fingers up against it. The wet sound of his fingers in his cunt barely registering past the sound of his heartbeat and the blood throbbing in his ears. An embarrassingly high pitched moan passed through his lips as his body began to shake.

The door opened, a loud creak bouncing off the tiled walls. Jumping off the bench and grabbing one of the towels from the rack, his clothes fell onto the ground as he tried to preserve what reputation he had from who’d disturbed him. Kicking the ball of tape behind the clothes he’d knocked down in his panic he turned to face Rick.

“What the fuck do yer think ya doin?” face flushing red in embarrassment, hugging the towel to his chest. Too distracted to see the blush spreading across the other man’s face.

“Didn’t think anyone was in here, t’was too quiet for there not to be,” voice muddled with wine.

Daryl barely even heard the ex-sherriffs excuse, eyes drawn to the expanse of his shoulders, trailing his vision down the line of hair that ran from his stomach into the confines of the towel wrapped out his lower half, strong calves still visible. Despite the circumstances Daryl knew that this image of Rick would be burned into his memories as long as this cursed world allowed him to live.

“Why didn’t ya shower with Lori?” desperate to draw the attention away from his poorly hidden body.

“It’s over, she left me,” Rick said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Did she tell yer why?”

“Yeah… turns out she didn’t love me the way she thought she did, we’ve decided to stay friends though, for Carl’s sake,”

“Did she tell ya anything else?”

“Nope, just that,”

“Well I’ll leave you be, g’night,” Daryl bent over to scoop up his fallen clothes and in one swift motion accidentally lost his grip on his towel. The towel dropping to the ground, exposing his swollen cunt and sweet pucker of an asshole right towards Rick as he bent over. The blush on Rick’s face had now spread down his neck

“Sorry!” Rick slapped a hand over his eyes, trying to give the poor man some privacy, but he’d seen too much. Rick felt Daryl brush past him as he hurried out of the room, the door loudly slamming shut behind the archer.

Daryl rushed back to his room, towel wrapped hastily around his body. Throwing the towel on the ground Daryl realised that not only had Rick had seen him naked but he’d also left behind his discarded tape.

SHIT SHIT SHIT Would Rick tell the other’s what he saw or worse? What if Shane found out, that man did not seem like the type of guy to accept folks like him. Did Rick hear his moans before he’d interrupted me?

Daryl’s worries circled round and round through his head as he laid on bed, hands tucked underneath his head.

That night Daryl didn’t get a wink of sleep, his head pounding from the impending hangover, mind filled with thoughts of Rick and what had happened. Most of the group seemed to be well rested after the night’s festivities, a couple were hungover but that was nothing compared to the hell that Daryl was feeling that morning. While the others gathered for breakfast Daryl stayed in his room with the lights turned off.

The only other member of the group who looked like hell was Rick. Unknown to Daryl the man had also been plagued with restless thoughts through the night. Images of Daryl’s worn body flooded his mind, his chest, his arms, oh those arms and the patch of hair that laid in between his legs. It was the cleanest Rick had ever seen Daryl and he couldn’t stop thinking of the man’s goatee grazing up against his neck as he whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

Rick had no intention of telling anyone what he’d seen that night. Daryl’s lack of dick and abundance of chest made it clear to Rick why the man was so withdrawn. Now Rick had come from a small town but thanks to an experience or two before he’d met Lori, Rick knew what being transgender was.

Now sober he remembered the moans he’d heard on the way to the shower, were those Daryl’s he’d heard? The idea of making those sounds spill from Daryl’s mouth was too much to bear. The clank of a plate being sat down in front of him snapped Rick out of his fantasy, but it was too late, his body had already gotten the message.

His hardened dick beginning to poke through his pants was all he needed to see before promptly excusing himself from the table. Rick briskly walked down the carpeted corridor towards his room, the arousal in his pants ever growing with each second that passed. As he turned the corner he came face to face with Daryl. The man scowled at him as he stared at Rick.

“Yer snitched on me yet?” he snapped, too enraged and embarrassed to notice the bulge in Rick’s pants as he forced him to back up against the wall.

“Look I haven’t told anyone okay,” Rick squared up to Daryl.

Daryl was close enough now that Rick could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Better keep your fucking mouth closed or yer gonna regret it,” Daryl spat.

The empty threat was the last straw. Rick leant forward from where Daryl had backed him up and kissed him. The scowl on Daryl’s face melted away as he felt Rick’s soft lips on him. He felt Rick’s hand snake around his waist pulling him closer before he was slammed onto the other side of the corridor. He groaned softly as Rick began to bite at his neck, the scratchy stubble brushing up against his chin as the other man marked him up.

Rick lifted Daryl up around his waist to get better access to his neck, hands groping at Daryl’s firm arse. With Daryl now in his arms he walked them both to the closest room that had been left open.

Rick admired the blossoming red marks on Daryl’s neck as he dropped him onto the bed and locked the door behind them. Returning to the bed to find Daryl pulling off his pants and dropping them next to his shoes that were left discarded nearby. Daryl saw Rick’s gaze linger on his exposed legs, trailing up towards his crotch.

Ya fucking idiot he doesn’t want yer like that, no one would ever want me like tha.

Daryl’s spiraling thoughts were broken but Rick’s husky yet gentle voice “You okay Daryl?”

“Yeah, just thought this’d never happen tha’s all,” he admitted, somehow even more embarrassed than when Rick had disturbed him last night.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want do,”

“Nah, I do,” he pulled Rick down on top of him and began to unbutton Rick’s shirt, desperate for another look at his chest. It wasn’t long before Rick’s shirts soon joined Daryl’s shoes and pants. Daryl took one of Rick’s pink nipples into his mouth, sucking on it slightly before gently biting down on it.

“Y-you got any condoms,” Rick was barely able to even get the sentence out from the sheer amount of pleasure that was coursing through his body.

Daryl pops off Rick’s nipple and a look of regret spread across his face “Umm..nah I don’t. I’m fine ta do it raw though if ya want,” he admitted, becoming embarrassed at his suggestion.

“Well okay that settles it, I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk Dixon,”

A whimper passed through Daryl’s lips as Rick stood up and dropped his pants, exposing his bulge to the man lying on the bed. Daryl edged forwards and gently peeled back the sheriffs briefs. Daryl’s mind went blank as he gazed upon Rick’s cock. It wasn’t that long, about 5 inches but was gloriously thick.

He lent forward and took Rick’s length into his mouth, jaw already aching from the thickness. It’d been awhile since he’d sucked dick, he gagged when Rick hit the back of his throat. Pulling off, face flushed red, chin covered in spit, for a breath of air before Rick grabbed the archer’s hair and forced his back down.

“C’mon be a good boy for me,” Rick groaned, the praise made Daryl even hornier.

Daryl moaned as he tasted the salt and musk. Oh that musk. He took a deep whiff of Rick as he continued to be throat fucked. Feeling the pressure begin to build, Rick slammed Daryl’s head onto his dick, as far as he could take him, and filled Daryl’s throat with cum. He let out a deep groan as Daryl gagged on the sheer volume of cum that was being forced down his oesophagus. Rick pulled Daryl off his cock and pumped the last few strands onto Daryl’s face, whose mouth and chin were already dripping.

“Oh such a good boy,” Rick praised again, as he hopped onto the bed next to Daryl, who could barely do anything but moan. He leaned in and whispered into the hunter’s ear “You want this cock?” Daryl turned and nodded before raising onto all fours, presenting his dripping hole for Rick.

“Geez that’s how wet you get from sucking cock,” Rick murmured, admiring Daryl’s glistening cunt. Rick began to rub Daryl’s dick as he watched the man buck back onto his hand in pleasure. Daryl arched his back, desperately trying to communicate how badly he needed his cock. Rick re-positioned himself behind Daryl and began teasing his entrance with his dick’s head.

I’m definitely going to fuck that sweet hole one day, Rick thought, admiring Daryl’s asshole.

Daryl’s cunt was absolutely dripping from all the teasing, the head of Rick’s cock lathered in his juices. Sick of the teasing Daryl thrusted back, enveloping Rick’s dick (AN: hehe that rhymes). They both groaned at the sudden movement. Daryl's arms collapsed as Rick began to thrust into him, making his ass even more prominent. The sheer thickness of Rick was making Daryl’s head go foggy, he wanted to speak to Rick, to thank him, but all he could muster was moans and one sentence.

“Spank me!”

Rick was shocked at the request from the man but obliged. His spanked Daryl’s left cheek, who let out a slew of garbled curses. He spanked him again, and felt Daryl tighten. He spanked him five times in quick succession, which was too much for Daryl to bear.

All he could hear was his and Rick’s moans and his body began to tense up all over. He could feel pleasure building all over and began rapidly thrusting back on Rick's cock. Rick spanked him again and he came.

Daryl’s moans were muffled by the pillows on the bed as Rick slammed into him from behind. Each thrust forcing Daryl higher and higher through his own orgasm, unable to stop cumming. Daryl was so tight and wet Rick could no longer hold back and joined Daryl, filling him up with his cum. Rick pulled out of Daryl who was still shaking and watched as his cum poured out of him. Rick gently scooped up some of his cum from Daryl’s pussy and brought it to Daryl, who opened his mouth and sucked on Rick’s fingers, cleaning him up.

Rick stood up and admired Daryl was now bright red, shaking and covered in cum.

[these-detestable-hands]

Truly an Ask Game Tuesday.

1, 7, 8, 14, 16, 18, 25

Honestly, just answer them slowly and when you have time. These are your fan mails. You don't reply to ALL of your fan mails in one go!

Yippee I love answering questions as soon as I get them.

1. The character everyone gets wrong

Valter from fe8. Listen. I know he acts vile and Riev directly says he has raped women and it's heavily implied Valter wants to rape Eirika but please hear me out.

Valter acts like this because of the cursed lance. This isn't a story of a cruel man who hurts others for fun, it's a story of a man who fell victim to a curse. In the Duessel and Cormag A support, they say the lange only corrupts those who are already bad people and I think this is stupid cause:

A. I don't really believe in good or bad people, only good and bad actions so it doesn't make much sense that it would affect Valter but not Cormag, but whatever I guess.

B. They say Valter was always evil and the lance just made him worse but that's not giving him credit for how he was before. Maybe he had violent urges to kill and rape before, but it means he did a good job of controlling himself and not letting it show. Maybe he felt guilty that he had those urges, maybe it was something he was actively working on, only for the cursed lance to ruin all his progress.

Valter has the opportunity to be an incredibly deep and fun character but it's completely ignored because IS did not choose to flesh him out and so the fandom takes his character at face value!! I think a sacred stones remake would be good because it would allow them to flesh out Valter (and the other generals) more and he really needs it. He's such an important villain but he's treated like crap by both the devs and fandom!!!

7. What character do you hate, not because of canon, but because of the fandom?

Kahaku probably. I mean I already didn't like him very much but the fandom is infuriating. He's strange and does bad things and hurts Fushi's loved ones but people just ignore that for the sake of shipping :/

8. Common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

The spy x family manga has a good balance of showing all three protagonists equally because they're equally important (though there's a little extra attention given to Twilight because he's the protagonist protagonist) but the anime gives way too much attention to Yor and Anya and the fandom doesn't like Twilight very much so people are happy about this. It sucks because beyond being a comedy, spy x family has an amazing story but the anime reduces it to silly Yor and Anya shenanigans so there's NONE of the espionage and fictional politics that I signed up for.

14. That one thing you see in fics all the time

I don't read much fanfiction actually and I'm very picky with what little I do read.

16. You can't understand why so many people like this thing

The canaries in dungeon meshi!!! Obviously Mithrun is amazing but we hardly see the others at all, I genuinely cannot fathom why people like them when we hardly have any idea of their personalities outside of daydream hour. I didn't even remember their names until I saw people constantly posting about them. It's also just a little upsetting cause of the one extremely sexualized brown woman :(

18. It's absolutely criminal the fandom has been sleeping on...

Honestly everything in witch hat atelier. The only characters people ever post about are Qifrey and Olruggio (as a ship) and Coco and Agott (also as a ship)

It's a good manga where the fandom is being lost to shipping. It just sucks. I wish people would actually give a crap about the story or the side characters but NOPE as always people are just shipping. Also side note Coco and Agott are 12 and Coco is dealing with the severe guilt of functionally killing her mom, now is NOT the time to be worrying about getting a gf.

25. Common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Ok so in ace attorney 4, the antagonist Kristoph has a really big secret but won't say what it is. He's executed before you can find out what it is. People hate this because it's annoying to not know but honestly I don't get it.

Kristoph is a very secretive and calculated killer, a lot like Cylira or Benedict (if Benedict killed people) and it makes perfect sense for him to never confess whatever secret he had. I like that he dies and we don't know what it was, it fits for his character.

[jessicafurseth]

Reading List, Heatwave edition.

"This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognised by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. ... I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no 'brief candle' for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible." [George Bernard Shaw]

[Image: Robert Herman (1980) via 90sanxiety]

*

"Some philosophers claim that the emotions artworks evoke are really 'pseudo emotions'; we feel them at one degree of remove. I can think of no better support for this thesis than the experience of listening to Paula Cole in CVS. The hopes of young love, the disappointments of middle age, the curdling resentment that ensues: I feel some inkling of it all. But mostly I’m just tapping my foot as I wait to pick up my prescription." This is incredible. [Mitch Therieau, The Paris Review]

Empire of dust: what the tiniest specks reveal about the world [Jay Owens, The Guardian]

#GraveTok [Jessica Lucas, The New York Times]

Semesters for adults [Allie Volpe, Vox]

Your movers have opinions about your relationship [Gina Cherelus, The New York Times]

How to Take a Photo of Your Girlfriend [Kate Lindsay, GQ]

"Collective effervescence is the way we feel connected when we’re in a crowd of other people, even if we don’t know them. When we’re all focused on a concert or a play or a movie, we feel a sense of social connection and it makes us feel really good." After the pandemic, people forgot how to behave in public [Alex Abad-Santos, Vox]

"If we want to replace our culture of trauma with a culture of resilience, we’ll have to relearn how to support one another—something we’ve lost as our society has moved toward viewing “wellness” as an individual pursuit, a state of mind accessed via self-work. Retreating inward, and tying our identities to all of the ways in which we’ve been hurt, may actually make our inner worlds harder places to inhabit." I Was Wrong About Trigger Warnings - Jill Filipovic, The Atlantic

Is Tradwife Content Dangerous, or Just Stupid? [Kathryn Jezer-Morton, The Cut]

Why Barbie Must Be Punished [Leslie Jamison, The New Yorker]

"When you get a woman in her 40s or 50s who has progressed in her career and is probably more willing to speak her mind, I think it's intimidating to the insecure men in our workforce. They would rather diminish that woman, not promote her, keep her in her place. It's not that they don't want her in the workplace — they just want her in a role that's going to support the men in the workplace and not compete with them. And certainly not give them a contrary opinion." Women Face Age Discrimination at Every Age, According to a New Study [Kelli Maria Korducki, Insider]

"Algorithms do the work for cheap, but when they reflect our taste back at us, it feels misshapen and insulting, a crude and unfair representation. When everything is available, all knowledge, all information, all entertainment ….nothing is perceived as valuable. Not the labor that creates the thing, not the person behind it, not the thing itself. The only valuable thing is our time, and if we spend it on something that isn’t amazing, isn’t exquisitely for us, we understand it as time wasted, instead of time gloriously wandering." The Sterile World of Infinite Choice [Anne Helen Petersen]

"We are living in a streaming paradox. As both an entertainment business model and a consumer experience, streaming has become a victim of its own success. It is a paradigm shift that is beloved for giving us more choice than ever before, while also making it harder than ever to actually enjoy that abundance." Streaming Has Reached Its Sad, Predictable Fate [Charlie Warzel, The Atlantic]

Every “chronically online” conversation is the same [Rebecca Jennings, Vox]

The Wild History of Not Eating Meat - on Alicia Kennedy's new book, "No Meat Required: The cultural history and culinary future of plant-based eating" [Diana Hubbell, Gastro Obscura]

My first boss busted me for skiving off work. I still don't regret it. [Anna Codrea- Rado]

"That myth of a restful vacation becomes something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’ll tell myself that I need to get away in order to relax, but then I’ll get more stressed as I prepare for the trip. I’ll cram too much into the days beforehand, from finishing up work tasks to finding time for a pedicure. By the day before departure, I’m a wreck. And yet, rather than question this approach, I’ll see it as evidence of how much I needed that holiday in the first place. But do I actually need a holiday or do I just need more breaks in my regular life? Would I be so desperate for a holiday if I had a little more breathing room in my day-to-day?" The myth of the restful vacation [Anna Codrea- Rado]

[terrainofheartfelt]

Idk what Rake’s Progress is but you’ve piqued my curiosity!

bless you S, both you and @andthatscanon prompted me to answer this...

Okay so, my unscientific and loosey goosey (pun intended) thoughts on Dan & The Rake’s Progress 

So, the original is a satirical series of illustrations that were printed in the 18th century (we covered them in one of my college lecture classes — satire through the ages or something like that. I was a junior and had too many things going on I barely remember the class, which is a shame because well, here I am writing intertextual analysis on it and gossip girl)

ANYWAYS the initial set of illustrations was a satire on the book A Pilgrim’s Progress, a title my Little Women fans may recognize. It’s the book Marmee gives the girls for Christmas, to help them grow into virtuous christian women (ugh, I know. the beauty of Gerwig’s adaptation is that she was able to keep LMA’s proselytizing at a minimum) so. The obvious twist is that instead of a Pilgrim’s journey into heaven, we have the journey of a Rake into Bedlam. 

So the story told through the prints is that the hero, our Rake, goes to the city to seek his fortune, is charmed by a devil to invest in unvirtuous things to get rich quick, and the idiot falls for it. In the following illustrations, Rake falls further and further into morality, chasing the advice of this devil, and blows whatever fortune he might have had on gambling and Women of Questionable Morals, and in the final installment, he ends up in Bedlam, an insane asylum—his quest for fortune and to join the world of decadence has literally driven him mad.

Now, in the 20th Century, Igor Stravinsky (of rites of spring fame) painted more context into the story with his operatic adaptation. Tom, the title Rake, leaves home and his True Love (aptly named Anne Trulove) to seek his fortune and get rich so he can marry her etc etc, and then he meets Nick Shadow (aka the Devil) and is seduced by the decadence of the big city. Shadow tricks Tom over and over again, first by bringing him to Mother Goose’s brothel (now does my pun make sense?), and marrying him to a bearded lady (a disappointingly but not surprisingly extremely racist turn of events), and Tom sinks his money into a scheme at Shadow’s direction, only to lose it all. The opera ends with Anne heartbroken, the Devil Triumphant, and Tom in the madhouse, having lost his love, his happiness, his money, and his mind. 

So to bring it all back to GG — Dan begins his journey, his Progress, an outsider looking in, but he ventures into this world of luxury for the sake of true love, and once he’s in, the goal posts keep moving. The rules to find his happiness keep on changing—the rules set by a Devil who always seems to win out. Dan fights and adapts and fights and adapts, until his character is virtually unrecognizable from where he began; he’s descended too far, and lost himself. 

And what is season 6 if not Dan’s own personal bedlam? He goes the 2012 equivalent of 1780 “mad,” pulls a personality 180 and acts out against the people around him, the people who dragged him into this progress in the first place, but in the end, his only choice is to work for the Shadow that betrayed him. 

[sollucets]

ok e4 done. e3 was definitely better as like. a story? but this one had significantly more khathadome so like. ur call i guess. (i know what mine is i know what i'm here for)

so our dome replaced boom!dome and what's killing me is that. the landlady clearly knows????? like. his picture's different and she knows. why didn't jib????? why didn't every other person in boom!dome's life? if she knows why did she let him keep living there? that makes no sense that's completely batshit i was waiting the whole episode for an explanation and did Not get one i thought everyone'd just be gaslit into believing he was the same. if they know then None of their behavior makes sense what the Fuck (ed later today as it turns out it was me who did not make sense. rip. landlady did not know i was being sleep deprived)

murder rock remains a very stupid plot device but. uh. dome baby what did you mean you lost count??? what is that flashback sequence with the bodies. is past life dome a rock serial killer. im losing it

"come back to me" being the thing that did it makes me...... feel.... Something

our main boys are fuckin liars by the way. each time they say they won't do something or make a promise they lie. khatha "i won't interfere in ur case & i won't die" and dome "i won't use my power & i won't touch the murder rock". i do think they're being honest with each other when they actually speak though

id like to make some little stupid stats counters for things that happen at least once an episode (dome passing out, khatha in mortal danger, face touching, 'her name's bam' etc lmao. dome passes out like. 2x each time its getting ridiculous. at least gun looks pretty while doing it)

khathadome were indeed extra gay this episode. there's just flat no other way to explain this. there are Far too many longing looks (from both parties. again that shot of khatha at the window was Clearly dome pov) and touches (dome grabbed khatha this episode its progress) dome sacrificing himself on the rock altar for khatha's sake. the guilt over hurting him. like. this is About Them and not in a particularly platonic way. intentions or otherwise exactly No One is reading them platonic

next episode preview looks like the series will be continuing its trend of the episode plots being notably weird about women which i do not love. please stop actually. can you have a normal one

[thephilosopheroffeelings]

Just listened to the last episode of The News Agents and wow. Emily Meitlis made one of the scariest and stupidest arguments about Elon Musk by saying that:

'Does that just mean he is better at it? I guess his response would be he is better at controlling the space - why don't the liberal media or the progressive media, whatever, the democrat media have their answer to what Musk is doing on X? Is it a comms problem, is it an ethics problem? That's what I am asking'

'He is better at it.' He is better at what? Since when 'being good at controlling' something equals being better at something? Does this question show her real mindset? Or did she simply say something so scary and stupid for the sake of being dramatic?

Once we were having a heated debate in the classroom whether military service should be compulsory for women over eighteen as well for the countries it is compulsory for men if we believe in 'true' equality between men and women. After literally two hours of discussion, our professor finished the class by saying that: ‘The real problem here is not about whether women should be part of this institution or not. The real question should be whether military service should be compulsory for anyone. The real question here should be that adding women to an inherently masculine institution will help with anything about its very nature or will it simply serve as accepting the very nature of it and willingly play your part in it by making it your standard?’

While trying to find an answer to the problem posed, we weren’t able to question the nature or the validity of the problem. Not only we lost time but also we took the problem itself as our standard and in this way, gave validity to the problem itself. Like relationships: When you have become too occupied with not losing that person and your relationship with them, you make that thing your focus regardless of its nature and sometimes lose the sight of the things and the real question like ‘Would this thing serve me in any way if it kept going?’

If I did teach politics, I would use this as a fantastic example of being able to discuss something only within the limits of who or what is accepted as powerful at the time and taking their norms as 'standard' regardless of the very sickening nature of them just because they are seen as powerful. This is exactly what Musk or any capitalist or fascist wants - being seen as standard and hailed and do the (dirty) necessary work to keep the system running while so called (neo)liberals try to criticize them within the rules and standards capitalists put in place for the first place. She mentions ethics in her question for instance. These people bloody know what sells. Let’s say some ‘catchy’ words like ethics that algorithm would love and work for every front; cherry on top. I don’t want to be skeptic but neoliberals seem to be enjoying and benefiting from this game as they keep choosing the standards of ‘powerful’ instead of, I don’t know, ‘fair’ and ‘honest.’

I do not want to think about this but if she lived in Nazi Germany, would she advise Jews to have a leader like Hitler or even worse, would she blame them for not having a leader who is on par with Hitler?

There is nothing as sexy and powerful as a clever argument. But when it is made poorly, blimey.

Oh let’s answer her question, shall we? It’s neither Emily, the problem here is the very nature of your question.

[oaryra]

By all accounts, I think my parents had a good marriage, maybe it was not perfect but it was good. My dad was a rock, a guide and a provider, everything a husband is supposed to be. He made sure we never lacked anything, if you wanted something reasonable, all you had to do was ask and you got it, but every gift was incentivised, in that you had to promise something in return for getting that gift. It ensured we never took anything for granted. But there was one flaw I only recognised when I got older, my dad shielded us all from the harsh realities of life, so much so, when he passed, our lives as we knew it spiralled out of whack! This unfortunately is the characteristics of every husband, something I think needs to be changed for the sake of not just the children but the wife too. What do I mean? Since the beginning of time, even as a Neanderthal, man has had to go out and fend for his family, whilst his wife was charged with keeping the house, but as time progressed roles began to merge YET man was still shouldered with MOST; if not all of the responsibilities of fending for the family. He would go out in the mornings, navigate through the tough rungs of life, get beaten, insulted, humiliated and disgraced, yet at the end of the day, comes home with a smile on his face and when he gets asked “how was your day?”, he replies with a simple, “It was tough, but thank God for today” and then he goes on about how bad the country is, the rise of price of fuel and other commodities, things which are common knowledge. Rinse, repeat! I need men to break that myth that they are supermen, that they are unbreakable because that is the illusion a lot of women live under. Yes, a lot of women know how hard the economy is, but they just don’t know how hard. Lemme give you a real life example. A woman went to get fuel recently at a fueling station and when her gallon was filled for the amount she paid for, she screamed that she was being cheated to the amusement of other people in the queue. But that is the every day reality of her husband, who feels cheated every time he has to pay triple the price for a litre of fuel! Ducks look so graceful when they glide gracefully across the pond but what we don’t see is the effort its webbed feet is putting in to not just keep it afloat but help it stay afloat and that is how many women see their spouses, they see all his does for the family but not how he does it, they have this inbuilt fantasies of how a man is strong and smart and every other qualities they can dream of but in their fantasies, they never include any flaws as after all it is a fantasy.  And society has programmed men to act this way, show no weaknesses and carry on impeccably in the midst of turmoil, which to me is a huge problem, for what happens when a man is gone? His family crumbles because he is no longer there to shield them. There was this video I saw on X some months ago, it was from a dating game, and the men introduced themselves and one of the guys in the course of introducing himself mentioned he’d lost his best friend recently and became teary eyed, the ladies all awwed and ahhed, gave him a hug BUT when it came to choosing who they wanted to be, EVERY ONE of those ladies picked someone else but the “sensitive” guy because they felt men should not cry or show any emotion that could be misconstrued as weakness. Some women don’t care what their spouses do to put food on the table, as long as the food is there. Lemme give you another illustration, two people John and James, both loving husbands, great providers and doing reasonably well for themselves, their wives, let’s call them Juliet and Jane, both business women like their husbands but there ends their similarities. Whilst Juliet’s business is striving, Jane’s has remained stagnant; it is not like it is doing badly but it is not where it should be, given that she has been in business for a lot longer than Juliet. Juliet chips in when needed and I mean “chips in” as in; pay a carpenter to install a new door, which she ...

[bellaaldamas]

And here we go again... In short: mainstream media hates women and has always been hating women (and that's why my main source of entertainment will always be romance novels written by women rather than mainstream shows).

When I started re-watching Sailor Moon - though calling it a "re-watch" would be incorrect because when I first familiarized myself with the series as a child I watched it mostly as a background noise rather than as something I would give any profound thought to and attentively analyze - Usagi instantly became one of my favourite female characters in the aforementioned mainstream media. Bold, inspired, life loving, upfront about the expression of her emotions, unwavering in her loyalty and love for her friends and nearest and dearest. But most importantly NOT complacent and submissive to the idea a woman HAS to be self sacrificing and devoted to the "Great Mission TM" at the expense of her personal desires and goals.

Usagi would risk and sacrifice herself time and again for those she cares about but strictly by choice and would never demand the same from other people (hence why she was willing to give the queen everything the latter wanted if it meant her friends not getting hurt or dying before their time; or, in the beginning of season 2, she wouldn't involve said friends - who had temporarily lost their memories of fighting by each other's side and of being Sailor Warriors - in the world saving mission because Usagi wanted them to have a normal life that she desperately craved as well but knew she could never have and, thus, tried to handle things on her own).

In season 1, whenever Luna the cat or Rei "rules for thee but not for me" Hino attempted to call Usagi "shallow" and "irresponsible" for *gasp* daring to want to exercise her free will and desires outside of the "Great Mission TM" Usagi always proved them wrong and so did the narrative. Not only did she prove to be completely capable as a Sailor Warrior (even when her friends couldn't, wouldn't or didn't have the chance to help her out) but she also stood her ground and didn't forfeit her interests, hobbies and feelings for the sake of the "greater good". Even the gradual progression of her relationship with Mamoru made sense because it was written as female driven: all of his verbal attacks and jibes were met with sharp and witty responses from Usagi herself. Their banter was as mutual as were their growing feelings for one another.

Then there comes season 2 and Whedon-esque "woke misogyny" messages start overtaking the story...

At this point the characters shaming Usagi for her independence and refusal to be complacent, fanatical and submissive to the "Great Mission TM" (as most of the other Sailor Warriors have been) are framed by the narrative as being in the right. While season 1 was a deconstruction of the idea a woman has to be a self sacrificing instrument neglecting her own needs and wishes in order to benefit others season 2 is promoting this exact idea uncritically.

Usagi does not get to be a regular girl, loving sweets, hating homework and falling in love with more than one young man at once because it makes her "shallow". She HAS to dedicate herself to the evil fighting mission and, moreover, accept that other women have to do it too. Ami does not get to go to Germany to study medicine like she wants to - she HAS to sacrifice her dream for the aforementioned Great Mission TM.

Mamoru has to break up with Usagi also for the greater good (as he believes) and he chooses to do it in the most hurtful way imaginable, by telling her he doesn't like "weak/whiny" women. The narrative obviously has an excuse for that (after all, HE was confused, HE suffered and HE didn't know what to do with a shocking and stressful misinformation leading him to break off their relationship; it does not matter that Usagi had been suffering from nightmares before he regained his memories and continued to suffer from them because of the way he broke up with her later; when a woman struggles with her emotions she is "shallow" but when a man does it he is a tragic hero). Mamoru could have found any other reason for the break up (he was too young for a serious commitment, he likes someone else, it is not her fault but he wants to have the time of his life instead of letting himself be driven by destiny and past life, etc, etc) - but he picked the "justification" that is meant to make Usagi think she is not good enough, needs to change and become "less superficial and weak". Clearly, her sacrificing herself for her friends and the world time and again is not enough to prove that.

This is strikingly similar to Whedon and B*ffy's pseudo-feminism where the entire premise of the series was that B*ffy's supposed "growth" was about "accepting" her fate as the warrior for the Greater Good TM (read: another woman sacrificing her needs and individuality for the benefit of others) and ultimately forcing said fate upon other women without their consent (what with her stating at some point that she had "developed" enough to realize she should have let her sister die for the Greater Good TM as well).

This type of "woke misogyny" has evidently been prevalent in mainstream media since 90-s and it's painful to see Sailor Moon, which objectively is much more high quality in terms of storytelling than anything ever created by elevated and overrated misogynist Whedon, also succumbing to it.

I'll still keep watching the series because it obviously has it's merits story wise and mainly because Usagi is still one of my favourites. I'm just hoping and praying she does not get the pseudo-"feminist" development a la B*ffy S*mmers and the story does not devolve into the "women can only be complex and intellectual if they suppress their desires and emotions for the Greater Good TM" type of narrative.

[azenari]

chaconne | 11.13.17

originally published on TinyLetter

sometimes i wonder if my taste in music is eternally enslaved to my memory - the darkest corners, their deepest wounds. in the years that have flown by since childhood i have rabidly consumed every and any genre that could make me feel something more forward... the sensation of running from death and chasing freedom, a departure from days i couldn't bear to recall. i've been a voracious, devoted consumer. i don't practice and the fingerboard on my violin is no longer attached to the rest of the instrument. i can't (or won't) remember simple intervals. i wrote my bachelor's thesis about the magic of women who claim hip hop as their bread and butter; women who loved me but were not, in fact, me. i gave whatever was left of me in a mad attempt to elevate collegiate a cappella above cliché, an aspiration with no room for childish individuality. when my soul is tired, it is not prepubescence i turn to but rather the gritty, naive immortality of adolescence. all the iPods i purchased and lost, the soundtrack to walking alone through a vast concrete jungle. after she left, i carried my own backpack. i no longer cared to carry my violin. and yet when i sit down in front of a keyboard in an attempt to create, the pandora's box in my memory rattles with death throes that refuse to relinquish their hold, however faint, on the rest of my life. pandora produces melodic, arpeggiated tributes to an era that i willfully abandoned. more often than not, my compositions trail off in chord progressions that recall dead white men from centuries ago alongside the benevolent spectre of my late mother, who is equally and irreversibly dead. i can't remember her voice, but my hands can't stop playing her music. in all my years scrabbling at my perforated heart via the powerful ineptitude of written language, i have never once composed a word to the sound of Western classical. in all my years since discovering more, i have never once bothered to listen to it for the sake of the music itself; until now. so what now? the piano is tuned for the first time in 11 years. i'm in a house again, with a family of my own. a picture of her adorns the lid. i can feel the burning pixels of her eyes when i practice, reminding me to slow down when i make mistakes unless i want to spend an exponential amount of time fixing them. without meaning to, i find myself encouraging my roommates to do the same, unconsciously doling out unsolicited musical advice while washing dishes and worrying about dinner. the spitting image of her with a little extra eyeliner and fewer worldly wrinkles. it took me this long to remember, but she, too, spent due time in the city of angels, reconciling memories of a dying mother. two lonely and singularly indomitable women, one departure per american coast, a mother i can't remember and a mother i never knew. it's hard not to wonder whether i'm next. beloved but alone, eyes open and staring at the emptiness of the ceiling, screaming for a daughter i would never see again. dying, with the clock still struggling desperately to tick. when i dream of learning the second half of saint-saens' introduction and rondo capriccioso after a decade of denial - when i stumble through bach preludes on the piano as if i'm seven again, my ring fingers clumsy and weak - i wonder if i'm already dead. is my consciousness buried beneath the off-white pages of old sheet music? was my innocence snatched by the reaper hovering in my mother's glassy eyes? then again, i can't tell if my broken-record creativity is reminiscent of death or merely memory; the treasure of the past trying to claw its way back to the present as i endeavor to dream, once more, of the future. i think it depends on whether i choose to keep playing.

[gaymer-hag-stan]

Periodt!

I mean, if it was me choosing the four characters it would all be female ones, but when I think of Tekken I think of Paul, Yoshimitsu, Law and Nina. The Mishimas popularity cannibalizes against each other because some prefer Jin or Kazuya or Heihachi, but when it comes to the definitive "faces" of the series, it's these four for me.

If there's any other girl that comes close to Nina's relevance and brand recognition it's probably Xiaoyu, but Nina is the Queen. Other girls may be trendier as the series progresses but Nina is consistent.

Also, if there's any female characters being forced down our throats it's Asuka and Lili, being positioned as the main female rivalry instead of Nina and Anna ever since Tekken 6, despite the rivalry being one-sided and Asuka's own personal story arc being consistently derailed for the sake of the teen girl fight, and then Alisa, who offers nothing other than being a cute girl with chainsaws, but its been years since her Tekken 6 debut and that shtick has lost its novelty. They have literally not tried to do anything considerable or worthwhile with any other female characters since Tekken 5.

Michelle was replaced by Julia, who was initially a serious scientist that was forced into being a cute streamer all of a sudden

Anna is not allowed to exist as a character outside her rivalry with Nina

Kunimitsu, one of the series mature and serious women, was replaced by a younger, bubblier, cutesier daughter

Jun was not only replaced by a teenager and now made to look like a teenager herself

Christie was missing from Tekken 7 because they picked Eddy over her, but the motherfucking bears are both okay to co-exist, and I'm sensing this will eventually happen again in Tekken 8

Zafina... Okay I'll admit Zafina's current predicament has some potential, provided they don't screw her up too

Katarina had, unfortunately, no personality and her character design was screaming "We have Christie Monteiro at home"

Lucky Chloe was ICONIC but the dudebros got mad at her mere existence so I don't think we're seeing her again for a while

Josie was, unfortunately, just Josie

Kazumi's big reveal was ultimately just a flashback

Master Raven seems to have suffered a Forest Law, although admittedly she was just a more boring version of Raven

Lidia has some potential as well but with Heihachi dead her character arc is kind of over?

Azucena and Reina seem to be a step in the right direction but they too are unfortunately victims of Namco's "every female in the game must have the same teenage, emotionless doll face " rule that's plaguing Tekken 8.

I love Tekken and I will continue to love it, but I think it's worthwhile pointing out stuff like that

Nina the only playable female in the demo because they know we know who the real Queen is

[gens1n]

ain’t shit (ft. dilf!kaeya)

 pairing babysitter!reader x dilf!kaeya

genre smut

song inspo ain’t shit - doja cat // this playlist

oneshot? series? one shot...for now (?). unless i have more ideas then this’ll turn into a mini series ehe

word count 2k

content warning mentions of sex, cheating, breeding kink, reader is a homewrecker lol, not proofread sry </3

author’s note a different perspective of doja cat’s song, where WE are the bad guys now >:) i’m bored of mc being this angelic, innocent character, so let’s have a mc that’s likely won’t be liked by everyone! and that’s alright! gotta love our problematic mc cos it’s not everyday that we have a main character that gets progressively worse over time LMAO (IMPORTANT!!! i don’t condone cheating btw!! this cheating theme is solely for the sake of this fic, pls don’t actually do that to your partner :/)

also big thanks to @/natyra_art on instagram for this beautiful dilf kaeya art... which is also another source of inspiration for this story hehe

‘‘so when are you divorcing her?’‘ you managed to huff in between thrusts.

‘‘hm?’‘

‘‘when are you, ah-’‘ his cock was hitting all the right spots in you, ‘‘divorcing her?’’

‘‘impatient, aren’t we?’‘ kaeya’s raspy voice sent shivers down your spine, as his calloused fingers lovingly traced the goosebumps on your back. 

‘‘it’s been three years, i’ve waited long enough.’‘

‘‘just wait a little longer. i’ll do it when the time is right.’‘

‘’you said that last time too,’‘ you replied, chuckling in disappointment.

‘‘and? don’t you trust my words?’‘ kaeya questioned, his pace slowing down to focus on you better.

‘‘i do, it’s just that...’‘

‘‘hm?’‘ the damp kiss he placed on your nape distracted you for a moment, his breath heavy on your skin as he urged you to carry on talking.

‘‘i’m tired of hiding our relationship... i want to be able to go on dates with you in public. hold your hands and kiss you in front of everyone without getting judged.’‘ the older man merely chuckled hearing your rants throughout your slow fucking session.

hearing his chuckle hit a nerve in you. is he not taking me seriously?

‘‘-and qiqi, that poor baby hasn’t seen her mother in like, what- 8 months? i think last christmas was their last meeting. what kind of mother does that to her child? what a shame... ah- fuck, right there!’‘

ah yes, qiqi. the three year-old baby you’ve been babysitting for the past three years. you were just in your second year of university back then, desperately looking for a part-time job to help support you with your bills and student debt. it was by chance that you met kaeya’s wife who was seeking for a nanny for their 4 month-old qiqi at the time.

her reasoning? she’s a busy travelling businesswoman, going on weekly business trips here and there, while kaeya stayed back to manage his own family company, leaving you to spend most of your university life balancing your studies and taking care of qiqi like one of your own. she even begged you to move in with them to help ease your commute between your campus and their home. two months after moving in with them, she set off on another business trip, claiming that the past six months after giving birth to qiqi was ‘’too much time wasted and opportunities lost in the business world’’. what a great mum.

you tried to understand her point of view, you really did. but after years of seeing qiqi not getting enough maternal love, with her mother coming back once in a while on a three-month interval and acts like she’s not a terrible mom, you’ve gradually accepted that some women just don’t deserve to have kids at all, if all they are doing is neglect the said children. thankfully, her hot husband, kaeya, who is twelve years older than you, helped made it easier for you, providing whatever form of support you need to raise qiqi. now that you just freshly graduated university with all your debt paid, you could finally pay full attention to qiqi, and have her daddy fuck you at the end of each day when you’re finally done with your ‘maternal’ duties.

at this point, kaeya alternated between slow and fast pace, coaxing more rants out of you. this was another one of those cold, rainy nights where you’d snuggle close to kaeya on your shared king-sized bed after putting qiqi to sleep, before it eventually turns into another heated make-out session that usually ends in him burying his dick deep inside you.

‘‘qiqi... she hasn’t met her mother in so long that she starts calling me ‘mom’ months ago. how pathetic is it that her actual mom isn’t even here? don’t you think she deserves a better, available mom?’‘ your complaints earned a manly chuckle from kaeya, who was amused to see how much this was stressing you out.

‘‘oh yeah? you think so?’‘

‘‘i know so,’‘ you firmly stated. another chuckle from him.

‘‘you wanna be her new mom?’‘ kaeya whispered close.

‘‘i’m practically her mommy now. only difference is, we’re not official yet. shame.’‘

‘‘you sure you wanna be her mom? become the new mrs alberich?’‘

‘‘i’ll give her a baby brother while we’re at it,’‘ you dared, glancing back to shoot kaeya a seductive smile. 

fuck, that ignited something in him. to have you willingly offering yourself to carry his children lit up his suppressed desire to breed you full. growing up a single child, it was always a dream of his to have a big, happy family so that none of his child would have to grow up lonely. it’s a shame he ended up with a wife who couldn’t care less about his wishes for multiple kids, instead focusing more on her career, when you are here to fulfil that dream of his.

kaeya instantly shifted your body, making you face the vanity mirror on the opposite end of the bed, as his hips started thrusting faster and harder into you, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. his large hands wandered down to your tummy, thumbs gently rubbing your sweaty skin, a stark contrast to his rough pounding.

his lust-filled pair of eyes stared back at you through the mirror, your body on full display, tits jiggling wildly as he reentered you over and over again. hugging your body closer to his, he whispered deeply, ‘’want me to fill this pussy up? have you creaming all over my cock? breed this tight little pussy full so qiqi can have a new sibling?’’

‘‘ah, ah... yes, yes, yes fill me up daddy!’‘ upon hearing the sacred nickname leaving your lips, he thrusted into you even faster, not minding your gasps and sharp nails clawing into his muscled arms, holding onto him for dear life.

‘‘yeah? you want daddy to make you a mommy? stuff you full with daddy’s seed? carry my children and become my mrs alberich?’‘

‘‘oh god, yes, yes... please!’‘ 

you rested your head on his shoulder blade, your eyes rolling back from the intense pleasure. kaeya held your body even tighter and kissed your gaping mouth to keep you quiet, fearing that your noises would wake qiqi who was fast asleep three bedrooms away.

it didn’t take long before he finally came in you in one last rough thrust, your warm, tight wall milking his veiny dick sloppily, faint white cum running down your pussy as soon as he pulled out. proud to see his massive load practically drooling out of your core, he admired the way the sticky substance pooled at your knees, wetting the bedsheet.

but he wasn’t satisfied just yet, no. he’d swore to himself just now to get you pregnant, already imagining your belly swollen with his future baby. his lustful thoughts prevented him from thinking rationally and recall that he still has a wife to stay faithful to. but for fuck’s sake, it was impossible stay faithful to an absent wife when your hand started pushing him back against the bed, the other hand guiding his dick to your entrance, ready to ride the life out of him.

just as you were about start bouncing on him, his phone started ringing loudly, effectively ruining the moment. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, it’s 11pm, who could be calling him at this time?

kaeya sighed and snatched the phone from his bedside, brows contorting in equal annoyance, eyes squinting at the bright light on his screen before showing the caller ID to you.

oh.

putting it on full speaker for you to hear, he groggily greeted the caller. ‘’yeah, honey? what’s up?’’

the sweet nickname irked you so much that you pretended to puke from it, which earned a silent giggle from the older man.

‘‘oh, i’m sorry babe, were you sleeping? did i disrupt your rest?’‘ rolling your eyes upon hearing the other person’s voice, a light bulb went off in your head. with a snarky smile plastered on your face, you abruptly lowered your body down on his dick, catching kaeya off guard, his breath ragged and eyebrows contorted at the sudden, intense pleasure. 

‘‘fuck, i- uh... still sleepy. it’s almost midnight here, why’d you call so late?’‘ it was entertaining for you to see how hard he tried to stay calm throughout the call, so you decided to further test him. you moved your hips and started grinding on him, pussy wall clenching and unclenching as your hand played with your nipple, another hand bringing his own to rest on your bum.

it took him his entire will to shut his eyes to be able to focus on the clueless wife on the other end of the call. ‘’i’m sorry honey, you were saying?’’ 

‘‘ah, still sleepy aren’t you? haha, i’m calling to let you know i’ll come back in a week once this new york project is finally over!’‘

‘‘w-what?’‘ 

‘‘yeah, remember that new york investment project i worked on since last year? it concludes two months earlier than expected, so i can spend the remaining months with you and qiqi before i start working on a new project!’‘

kaeya had to do a quick double take at his phone screen before staring back at you in disbelief. massaging his temple, he let out a silent sigh, and lazily replied, ‘’oh... that’s good.’’

‘‘it really is! i’ve missed you and qiqi so much, how’s she?’‘

‘‘qiqi’s doing pretty good... started potty training, still throwing tantrums whenever y/n tells her she needs to stop watching pororo past her bedtime though.’‘

‘‘haha, must be nasty to deal with!’‘ hearing this remark, you felt a sense of pride in yourself. you raised qiqi after all, you knew you’re a better mom to qiqi than kaeya’s wife will ever be. all those things she considered ‘nasty’ were just perks that come with being a mother, so why bother become one if she can’t even handle that much?

‘‘how’s y/n? is everyone good back home?’‘ 

‘really good’, you mouthed back, as kaeya’s thumb continued tracing the small skin of your ass, his eyes fixed on your connected bodies, adoring the way your pussy just absolutely sucking him in.

‘‘everything’s alright,’‘ he lazily replied.

‘‘that’s good to hear! alright, i don’t wanna keep you awake any longer, you should continue your sleep! good night sweetheart, love you.’‘

‘‘love you more,’‘ kaeya lied through his teeth with a grimace, immediately hanging up.

‘‘lOvE yOu MoRe,’‘ you continued mocking him, riling him up more. ‘‘great, now she has the audacity to come back when her daughter can’t even recall her face anymore.’’ kaeya remained silent, dreading the day he’ll eventually have to confront his wife.

‘’what about our plan? making another mini you? i guess that’s not happening anymore, huh...’’ you pouted, knowing damn well it’s one of his weaknesses. in an instance, kaeya flipped your body over, you yelped as your back hit the mattress.

‘‘what, did you think i was joking?’‘ he raspily muttered, resting his forehead on top of yours, your limbs instinctively clung to his strong, chiseled body.

‘‘i don’t know... thought you’d change your mind and come running back to your oh-so-lovely wife?’‘

‘‘hm? you mean an absent wife?’‘ he raised a brow, to which you nodded. ‘‘i don’t think so.’‘

‘‘besides,’‘ he paused to hold the back of your thigh open, exposing your connected core, rhythm slow as he tried focusing on his next words, ‘‘you’re practically my wife already. going on vacation dates with me, caring for my child, preparing meals for me like a good wife should. and now..,’’ kaeya’s eyes stared into yours expectantly.

‘‘...now what?’‘

leaning in to give you a tender kiss, kaeya then grinned, his pace quickening, heart surged with desire as he muttered his next words.

‘‘i can’t wait to see your belly rounding, swollen and full, filled with my baby.’‘

author’s note once again i hope i don’t get death threats for writing a homewrecker main character 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️ 

[legit9thlunaticwarrior]

alright, the kid stole my heart. let’s do some taylor swift songfic magic

|remember to leave feedback and i love all you heathens|

‘Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince’ Hook (Tyler) x fem!reader

^they grew up together. did everything together, even had a joint debut. but one day, her feelings bubbled over^

- taylor got so much gud gud for inspo my dudes - donna projecting and daydreaming again, dw abt it - i hate the concept of adults being like ‘oh theyd make such a cute couple’ with kids but for the sake of this fic, im letting it slide - also for shits and giggles, he played high school football - Y/F/N - your friend’s name - powerhouse hobbs (will) and i call taz mr. s

Y/N POV:

You know I adore you I'm crazier for you Then I was at sixteen Lost in a film scene Waving homecoming queens Marching band playing I'm lost in the lights

From the moment we met, I felt my heart rate rise anytime he was around me. Even when we were little, other parents and teachers said we would grow up to be together. Tyler and I had always been glued to each other since age four. We always got put in the same classes all throughout our school years; and when we got to high school, I always wore his jersey number on my cheek as I cheered him on with the rest of the cheer squad during his football games. 

 American glory Faded before me Now I'm feeling hopeless Ripped up my prom dress Running through rose thorns I saw the scoreboard And ran for my life

When the senior prom rolled around, we went with who we were dating at that point. Truthfully, I wanted to go with him but I couldn’t risk our bond. What I didn’t know is that Peter would ditch me for another girl halfway through the occasion. Tyler found me in the hallway by the lockers bawling my eyes out, “Y/N? Buzzy, what happened?” He rushed to sit beside me and held me close. “Peter dumped me.” He kissed the top of my head, “I’ll fucking break his face.” Since we started wrestling training together, his confidence grew. “Why were you looking for me? What happened to Alexa?” He laughed, “Turns out she doesn’t swing that way. No hard feelings though, the want to end it was mutual. I came out here because Y/F/N said you ran out in a rush.” We stayed sitting by the lockers until Tyler got up and helped me to my feet,  “Y/N, since we are now both dateless, how would you like to accompany me to prom?” I blushed and gave the obvious answer: “Of course Tyler! I would love to!” We went back in and danced like nothing happened.

No cameras catch my pageant smile I counted days, I counted miles To see you there To see you there It's been a long time coming but

We finally had our All Elite Wrestling debuts. As much as I would have liked to tag with him like we did before, I was so proud to see him in his element. After winning my match against Britt, I got to watch his. He came out victorious as usual and when we met back in the Team Taz locker room, I jumped onto his back. “I’m so proud of you T!” I congratulated him then kissed his cheek before getting down. “You did it too Buzzy. You beat Britt Baker!” Then, Tyler’s dad came over to us, “Both of you were stellar. Y/N, you have some of the greatest ring awareness I’ve ever seen.” “Thank you Mr. S, I learned from the best.” He kissed my cheek and left. He was always like another father to me; so when he suggested I join Team Taz, I couldn’t say no.

It's you and me That's my whole world They whisper in the hallway, "she's a bad, bad girl" (okay!) The whole school is rolling fake dice You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes It's you and me There's nothing like this Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (okay!) We're so sad, we paint the town blue Voted most likely to run away With you

As our careers at AEW progressed, I was established as an important part of Team Taz. Provide distractions, take over the women’s division; both of which I did well. I was the only one in the group that no one knew where I stood: Heel or Babyface? We used it to our advantage, until Sammy Guevara and Tay Conti decided to run their mouths. That I was probably just a hot piece of ass getting passed around in the group. After that shot, Tyler and I had enough and we got our first match together. 

My team is losing Battered and bruising I see the high fives Between the bad guys Leave with my head hung You are the only one Who seems to care

This was so important to the two of us but probably for me more. I felt this need deep down inside that I needed to prove myself. I belong in this company and with the team. The match was going great and Tyler and I were so close to the win, until Sammy yelled to me from ringside, “You’re just gonna get replaced once they see you’re worthless in this business-” Tay took the opportunity to go for the roll up and got the pin. The two ran up the ramp while Tyler came into the ring and knelt beside me as the rest of the group came out. I couldn’t hear the rest of the scolding as I got up and left the ring to go to the locker room and change. I was about to just leave after I got my stuff until Tyler came in, “Buzzy, I know one of them said something. Talk to me.” 

And I don't want you to (go) I don't really wanna (fight) 'Cause nobody's gonna (win) I think you should come home

If we weren’t attached at the hip already, after what happened in the ring, he was even more close to me. It had gotten to a point where I brought up me leaving Team Taz. “Y/N, no.” I knew he was serious because he never used my name, I was always Buzzy, “You deserve to be here. And I don’t want you to go.” I sighed. “I don’t really wanna fight, Tyler. ’Cause nobody’s gonna win.”  He had decided that the crowd tonight would convince me to stay. The team was in the ring and Mr. S brought up the situation. The crowd chanted for me not to leave, “I think you should come home. They want you with us. I, want you with us Buzzy.” He spoke into the mic; something that felt more special than it seemed. He handed the mic to his dad and pulled me closer so only I could hear what he said next, “I can’t do this without my high school sweetheart.” He put his hands on my face gently and kissed me. It felt like fireworks went off and we were floating above the whole arena. When he pulled away “I love you Buzzy. I always have. Stay?” I nodded. Will yelled into his mic, “She’s staying!” “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince are official!” Ricky added. Tyler wrapped his arm around me and leaned down, “Does that mean you’re my girlfriend?” I kissed him again “Does that answer your question?”

We were cuddling in our hotel room when I finally asked him after all these years, “Tyler why do you call me Buzzy?” He smiled showing off those dimples that make my heart thump. “Once when we were at the park, a bumblebee had landed on your hand. You didn’t even flinch; you made it your friend. We had to be ten years old but that might’ve been the moment you stole my heart.” “Well now, It's you and me There’s nothing like this. I love you too T.”

~~~~~~~

lovely taglist babes (dm or comment to be added) @josiewrites @rubyred1980 @chrisdickinson @xkennyxomegax​