#kit de presente

[spotsupstuff]

I like to think some of the scav kits that fish cares for have started to refer to him as metal dad when speaking to other scavs, which could be a funny revelation when he starts to pick up on scavenger language.

Also imagine a scav from a different tribe tries to eat one of fishes neurons and gets curb stomped by a bunch of the now adult scavs yelling "no eat metal dad!"

awgh gmsklmkdmklb the second he figures out the noise/motion meaning parental figure he's gon go into such "What." mode... unresponsive for an hour as he tries to figure out why's he a dad suddenly now (← emotionally idiotic man, bless his rarefaction cells)

oh but i LOVE the idea of them protecting him like that!!! Hell yes, he takes care of them n dang it they will repay the favor n that's That. they find a neuron outside of the can (stolen by some creature n then abandoned) and carefully gently collect it and bring it back home,,,

[vidadeprofessor]

Sobre a Páscoa

Nesta Páscoa 2023, uma das ações que fiz foi incentivar a leitura e o verdadeiro significado da Páscoa, Pessach em hebraico. Então, além do chocolate "KitKat", presenteei Gestão, Coordenação, Docentes e funcionários com um exemplar do livro "A Paixão de Cristo", de Ellen G. White.

[telemensagemtitanicdoamor]

No Dia dos Pais presenteie seu herói com uma Linda Telemensagem

O Dia dos Pais está chegando, e nada melhor do que surpreender aquele que sempre esteve ao nosso lado com uma telemensagem emocionante. A empresa Telemensagem Titanic do Amor oferece uma maneira única e especial de expressar seu amor e gratidão pelo seu pai neste dia especial.

A Telemensagem Titanic do Amor é uma empresa dedicada a enviar mensagens carinhosas e emocionantes por meio de ligações telefônicas e chamadas via Whatsapp. Seu diferencial está na forma como tornam essa experiência ainda mais memorável. Ao utilizar os serviços da empresa, o cliente recebe de brinde a gravação da reação de seu pai ao receber a telemensagem diretamente em seu Whatsapp. Assim, poderá reviver esse momento especial quantas vezes desejar.

O processo é simples e prático. Basta acessar o site oficial da empresa, https://telemensagemtitanicdoamor.com.br, onde os clientes poderão encontrar um catálogo variado de telemensagens emocionantes e escolher aquela que mais se encaixa no perfil de seu pai.

Além das telemensagens, a empresa também oferece opções adicionais para tornar essa surpresa ainda mais completa. Se o cliente desejar, pode optar por enviar uma mensagem ao vivo em um carro de som, que levará a emoção diretamente ao coração do seu pai.

Para quem quer presentear de forma mais completa, a Telemensagem Titanic do Amor possui parceria com a Floricultura Flores Doces. Os clientes poderão acrescentar cestas de café da manhã, kits com pelúcias, flores, chocolates e vinhos ao seu pedido de telemensagem. O catálogo desses produtos pode ser acompanhado diretamente no site da floricultura https://floresdocesfloricultura.com.br.

É importante ressaltar que a Telemensagem Titanic do Amor e a Floricultura Flores Doces atendem na cidade de Chapecó e região, proporcionando um serviço personalizado e de qualidade para tornar o Dia dos Pais ainda mais especial.

Para fazer sua encomenda e surpreender o seu pai, basta entrar em contato com a Telemensagem Titanic do Amor através do Whatsapp (49)98831-9294 ou acessar o site oficial https://telemensagemtitanicdoamor.com.br.

Neste Dia dos Pais, celebre o amor e fortaleça os laços familiares com a Telemensagem Titanic do Amor e a Floricultura Flores Doces. Faça deste dia uma ocasião inesquecível para aquele que sempre se dedicou a cuidar de você. Surpreenda-o com uma telemensagem emocionante e presentes especiais para mostrar o seu carinho e gratidão.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Award II

Alexia Putellas x Hardersson!Reader

Aitana Bonmatí x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You are finally rewarded for being the best

You don't play football for the fame.

You've never played football for fame or money or awards.

You play football because you love it.

It's been apart of your life for as long as you can remember. Your parents still have your first Wolfsburg kit, back when you were a baby and couldn't do anything but cry.

The fame, the money, the trophies all just came along with the sport you love.

The responsibility of carrying your country and your club doesn't weigh on you much, not when you have such passion for the game and your teams.

The first time you felt such responsibility was on your youth team, captaining them to a successful Under-17 Euros. Then, the responsibility was back at Barcelona. You were made the third captain after half a season back from your loan to Lyon.

When you left, the responsibility stayed, being made the sole captain for your country. You've spent a year at Wolfsburg now, the club of your childhood, and the band for your club wraps around your arm in preparation for next season.

Denmark Youth Captain.

Barcelona Third Captain.

Sweden Senior Captain.

Wolfsburg First Captain.

You didn't play football to become a leader but somehow you've become one, moving from yelling orders from your defence to yelling orders at the whole team.

You are an expert keeper. You always have been.

People around you say you've made your mark on the game and you haven't even retired yet. People look at you for what a keeper should be, for how a leader should act.

(People whisper that all keepers coming up the ranks now try to mimic your style, your natural instinct and abilities).

It's only inevitable that you have the trophy cabinet to back up your skill.

Two World Cups sit in your cabinet. Two Golden Gloves as well.

Multiple Keeper of the Year trophies.

An Olympic medal.

A Euros medal.

And then awards for at club level too.

Liga F, Copa de la Reina and Supercopa sit in the apartment you used to share with Natalia with a Première Ligue and Coupe de France medal too.

Your Champion's League medals sit with Natalia's on the wall.

Everything you won at Linköping and Arsenal are at home in Sweden whilst your most recent Bundesliga and DFB-Pokal medals are at your apartment in Germany.

You are the greatest goalkeeper playing in the women's leagues at the moment and, while you cannot see it, everyone else knows it.

You've come to the ceremony to eat some of the bar food and maybe see some of your old Lyon teammates.

Talia has come to the ceremony to see you make history.

Alexia and Aitana are the ones presenting the award and just from the way they're smiling, Talia knows the result.

You've been ranked highly ever since your first nomination. That time, you'd ranked eleventh. Every time after that, you've finished in the top ten.

Your name is called and the world stops.

You suck in a breath, frozen in your seat like you're in the Champion's League final with only a one goal lead and the other team advancing on your goal with lethal efficiency.

You don't know what to do. You don't know what to say.

Your wife allows your tuck your head into her neck, not flinching as your tears drip down onto her suit blazer.

"It's okay, baby," Talia says to you," You deserve this so much."

She helps you to your feet, hiding your face as you wipe your tears where cameras can't see.

You force yourself to walk up the stairs to the stage without stumbling. You suck in a breath.

There it is.

The most prestigious award in football.

It was a few years ago now that Talia won hers. She'd had a standout season during her first as Barcelona's captain. She was lethal on goal for club and country.

There was never any doubt it would be here.

That's the way it always is.

Everyone always expects a striker or a midfielder. Sometimes, it's a defender. It's never been a keeper though, at least for the women's.

Second goalkeeper in history.

First female goalkeeper in history.

Aitana is the one nearest to you.

You're taller than her by a lot, towering over her but she still hugs you like you were little, like you were still the little girl she met when hunting down Pernille's shirt.

One of her hands comes up to cup your cheek.

"You've grown up," She says and you force yourself not to cry," You're so big now."

Alexia is next. You last saw her a few weeks ago when you came back to Spain for the weekend and attended one of Talia's games. Alexia made you come down from the stands and asked about Wolfsburg and how your season was going.

She was all business then and you'd been as vague as possible, in case she remembered something that could be used against you during the next rounds of the Champion's League.

But now, there's no hint of professionalism in her eyes as she pulls you into a hug.

"I told you," She whispers," I told you that you'd get this one day. Remember this feeling, okay? There's nothing better in the world. There's no one better in the world."

She pulls away and hands you the award.

You turn to the cameras, to the audience all on their feet clapping you.

You lift up your Ballon D'or for all to see.

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader

summary: You accept the dinner invite, but can't shake the feeling that Sunday had alternative motivations. Well—you can't seem to get yourself to ignore it as well as you usually do, at least. wc: 1.3k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 (nsfw)

---

To say you’re surprised that Sunday knows something almost feels on its way to an insult. Ever since meeting him, you’ve felt the notion that Sunday fills every room he’s in with a sort of omnipresence—a watchfulness that extends beyond his direct gaze, an invisible cloud of eminence curling in the corners of space like steam. Sure, you collect information for him in your manila folders and papers and electronic mails… but you often wonder if it’s merely to organize, not to present. That he is already aware of all things, and only wishes for it to be in proper order. 

All this to say: The dress fitting you perfectly is entirely logical. Sure, maybe it’s a bit too perfect, but to show concern feels almost sacrilegious. 

Of course Sunday knows. It’s normal for an employer to know such things, isn’t it?

Regardless, you find yourself out of place in this Blue Hour restaurant. Your only companions seem to be the objects in your old clutch: Your phone, and a metal tin of your favorite mints. Bringing along a wallet or even a few credit bills was out of the question, Sunday had assured you. Even at your protest, he insisted it would be taken care of. 

You press a mint against the roof of your mouth with your tongue. You had been too anxious to remember the name of the restaurant, only hearing the erratic pace of the jazz music echoing from the band’s main stage. Only seeing the satin of the tablecloth. Only feeling the gnawing pit in your stomach.

“About today’s report, sir—“

Sunday would only keep his clasped fists against the table, maybe his forearms, but never his elbows. He was a man with remarkable, old-fashioned etiquette. 

“Please,” he corrects you. “Call me Sunday.” “Mister Sunday,” you reiterate. But something tells you to stop talking anyways.

Your eyes glance around the room, wondering from what other angles he seems to be watching you, ridiculous as it may sound. You curse yourself at how easy it is to ‘pay it no mind’, ‘give it no thought’ in any other occasion. During work, at meetings, or when his presence is invisible to you. The sentiment feels like the most logical thing in the world then, but now? It’s a ridiculous notion. 

But you can at least pretend to pay it no mind, and you find that to be enough for the time being. The band plays on, a saxophone wailing out its melody over double bass and the hiss of the drum kit.

"Jazz as a term for Penaconian music is a fairly recent construction," he begins to speak, at first seemingly to nobody but himself. "Popularized by my dear sister, naturally. Do you know what the term comes from?" 

You shake your head. 

"'Jats', more commonly phrased as 'the jats', also known as spirit, moxie, joie de vivre—Now, it's been corrupted to mean something closer to restlessness," he sighs. "But in its inception, to have 'the jats' was to be blessed by Xipe with a certain euphoria, and the style of music that many associated with such a feeling was said to be played by 'Jats bands'." Sunday takes the smallest sip of his drink before adding "But Jazz rolls off the tongue better, doesn't it?”

You laugh, a rictus showing on your face. “Indeed it does, Mr. Sunday.”

He smiles no wider than he would at any other person. Your certain vulnerability seems to almost leak onto the floor, rivulets flowing down the legs of your chair—Sunday relishes in the image, watery anxiety beading off the skin of your back and running down the curve of your spine. Underneath his gloves, his knuckles pale as he laces his fingers together tightly. The vision before him is everything he’d ever hoped for—what he’d been picturing when he selected the venue, the dress, the time. A plan perfectly orchestrated.

“I worry sometimes that you have the wrong idea of me, [Y/N],” he posits, glibly. “You seem tense.”

You stop yourself from placing another mint in your mouth to look him in the eye. “Oh, it’s nothing, Mr. Sunday,” you lie, “It’s just been a while since we’ve been seated, and we’ve only been given drinks.”

“I have an inclination that our food will be out shortly.” “…But sir,” you question, “We haven’t ordered.” “Our reservation asked for orders at the time of scheduling,” Sunday smiles. “As I said before, everything is being taken care of for you.”

Your eyes drift to the other patrons: A patchwork mass of Halovians here, Pepeshi there, many of which are discussing unknowable things over their large menus. You tell yourself it’s nothing to worry about. Logically, Sunday must know something you don’t. Sunday must know a lot of things that you don’t. 

Sunday watches the slight movements of your jaw as your tongue curls around the next mint in your mouth. The first mint in your mouth had lasted two minutes, the next forty seconds, and the final only twenty-five. Perhaps there was something you were trying to purify within yourself—the unease he found so tantalizing at this moment, a symptom of your delicious eagerness to please—that you hoped to extract from each mint, your cheeks sucking in a nearly imperceptible degree as you drained each one dry. Sunday could imagine himself reaching over across the table to open your mouth with his thumb, saliva pooling in your mouth from the way you were siphoning the little white tablets greedily, the delicate muscles in your face spasming and twitching as you shudder beneath his velvet touch.

If he was a lesser man...

"Don't spoil your appetite on those mints, darling," Sunday jokes. He can immediately see you tense up from the name, swallowing the tablet in your mouth. "My apologies, Mister Sunday."

...Boss or not...why the hell were you apologizing to him?

"I told you, Sunday is fine," he smiles. "...Do I frighten you?" "Excuse me?" Sunday tilts his head to the side the slightest bit, his cranial wings drooping. Still, even as he expresses his supposed concern, his smile doesn't fade.

"You seem frightened, dear," he coos. "If I'd known you would hate dinner with me so much, I wouldn't have asked you." Initially, you feel yourself overcome with guilt. He was spending all this money on you just for you to be so skittish... But that was never the point of the dinner meeting, right? You bite your lower lip, mulling over the possibility of getting the topic of tonight's dinner back to that of your work. You look askance, to the lack of plate right before you, and then to him. "It's just a concern I had regarding budgeting for the venue," you lie, "Some of the cost estimates you'd previously requested have changed since—" You stop when you feel something touch your ankle. Sunday has leaned in closer to you to place his shoe between your feet. You look down to where his shoe must be under the table—hidden by the long tablecloth—then to him, with that static smile still on his face. Not a hint wider than he would smile at anyone else. "Isn't it peculiar?" he asks. Sunday hasn't been listening to you whatsoever. "Look around the room. Each and every table here is surrounded by strangers. These figures around us are unknown to us, and likewise we are unknown to them." Even when it's not the point of what he's saying, you can still feel that sense of malice hidden behind Sunday's teeth when he refers to the folk of Penacony. Avaricious, calloused, snobbish and cruel. Corrupt is often the term he uses, with a bite that seems to imply he finds himself distinct from it. Like a single healthy cell surrounded by cancerous tumor. The outer side of his shoe draws a line up your calf, and he continues.

"Don't you find it fascinating that all these people may glance at us—pay us no more mind than what we pay to them—and have no idea what we are to each other? Most don't even know I have a secretary," he grins. "Perhaps I enjoy keeping you as my little secret." What he says is enough to keep you silent until your food arrives.

--- a/n: thanks so much for all the notes on the last installment, everyone! hopefully a bit of worldbuilding isn't a turn-off to any of you, i'm obsessed with penacony's jazz age inspirations just as much as i am with sunday xD just for the sake of keeping things cut up right, we'll end things off here lolol tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos

[clesired]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “can i request christmas headcanons about fred? with a reader who isn’t exactly the christmas type but how can you resist lovely christmas at the burrow?” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! how can you resist lovely christmas at the burrow?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fluff, gn!reader, established relationship!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !

🥥 partner!reader who doesn’t care for christmas because your family never made it a big deal

🥥 bf!fred who invites you to spend the holidays at the burrow because he’s convinced that one christmas with his family will change your mind

🥥 naturally, you’re assigned a room to sleep in when you arrive ( but everyone knows you’re gonna end up in fred’s room anyway )

🥥 you help the weasleys decorate the burrow and end up surprising both fred and yourself with how much you enjoy it

🥥 you get addicted to molly’s hot chocolate almost immediately after the first sip

🥥 ginny helps you brainstorm gift ideas for her family ( because merlin knows what fred and george have whipped up for them )

🥥 molly constantly catches fred trying to get you under the mistletoe

🥥 you somehow land yourself in a christmas trivia feud with charlie ( it ends in a draw )

🥥 every time fred catches you enjoying a christmas activity, he smirks at you all smug and mouths ‘i told you so’ ( to which you just roll your eyes )

🥥 you and ginny gossip in her room while you wait for molly and arthur to fall asleep so you can sneak into the twins’ room

🥥 you spend a good five minutes laughing at the twins when they come back inside from de-gnoming the garden looking like they’d just wrestled a hippogriff ( you take a picture too, of course )

🥥 when the weasleys go out to play quidditch in the orchard, you stay back to help molly with the cooking and the dishes

🥥 you try eggnog for the first time with arthur and end up drinking four cups…

🥥 you cuddle up with fred on the couch while you and the rest of the weasleys listen to celestina warbeck on christmas eve

🥥 when it’s time to open presents, your boyfriend’s family are all pleasantly surprised by the accuracy of your gifts ( thank you, ginny )

🥥 you gift ginny a basket of wizarding skin care and makeup products to experiment with

🥥 you get ron a gift box from honeydukes, filled with his favourites like chocolate frogs, bertie bott’s every-flavour beans, pepper imps, etc.

🥥 george gets a quidditch kit that you charmed to be gryffindor themed and a new striped jumper

🥥 percy receives a nameplate for his desk at the ministry

🥥 you give charlie a new backpack and a journal for his travels

🥥 you gift bill a book on interesting muggle artifacts…with a second copy in french ( wink, wink )

🥥 molly gets a new magical cookbook

🥥 arthur gets the latest edition of the guinness book of world records ( courtesy of a very fascinating conversation with hermione earlier that year )

🥥 fred gets the same jumper as george but in a different colour, a scrapbook you made filled with all the photos you’ve captured over your relationship, a box of his favorite candies, and a framed version of the photo of him and george post de-gnoming

🥥 you’re glad everyone likes your gifts right up until fred goes off and mouths that damn ‘i told you so’ yet again

🥥 but when you open one of your presents and see a knitted jumper with your initial on it, you’re finally ready to admit to yourself that maybe christmas isn’t so bad after all

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !

𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! fred, you, other people

🐚 “who would dare put a mistletoe up at the burrow!?” “i just watched you conjure it, freddie.”

🐚 “fred weasley, if you don’t leave them alone this instant!” “mum, i swear the mistletoe put itself up!” ( no it didnt )

🐚 “new gift idea, let’s snog.”

🐚 “awfully good gifter for someone who hates christmas, love.” “don’t start, freddie.”

🐚 “who helped you with the gifts?” “i knew it couldn’t have been you!”

🐚 “why would you get this picture framed!?” “because it’s funny…duh!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !

𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! you, fred, other people

🫧 “yeah, yeah, i know…you told me so.”

🫧 “gin, you mind helping me figure out what to get your family for christmas?” “of course! who else were you gonna go to? fred?”

🫧 “you totally cheated, charlie!” “did not!” “did too!” “rematch, same time next year.” “you’re on.”

🫧 “arthur, you must tell me where you get your eggnog from…”

🫧 “apologies if the jumper is a bit loose, dearie! i had to guess the size.” “it’s perfect, molly…thank you.”

🫧 “alright, i guess christmas isn’t that bad…” “i told you sooo.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! a bit past christmas, but at least its still december, right? i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

[simsontherope]

Halte des Explorateurs

This bar was one of my oldest builds still present in my save. Initially, I just planned to update the decor, especially using content from the Cozy Bistro kit, but… I ended up changing its location to move it by the roadside, and I rebuilt it from scratch!

I am really satisfied with the result; I think this place has a very warm atmosphere! I hope your Sims will enjoy it as much as I do. 🍻

Location: Brindleton Bay (Whiskerman’s Wharf), Salty Paws Saloon.

Info: Residential, 15x20, bar.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Or use my EA ID simsontherope to find it in the gallery.

And feel free to browse through my other creations!

[superm4ks]

lowkey disappointed max couldn’t even be bothered to wear the Senna memorial shirt over his kit or under his jacket … and he didn’t even participate in the charity run. As a fan not a good look smh

Okay .. max has never expressed any hero worship for Senna or hinted at Sennas death influencing him any differently than Gilles Villeneuve’s, Elio de Angelis’, Anthoine Huberts’, Jules Bianchis, or last years Dilano Hoffs, etc. Max always turns up to the paddock in his rbr polo and shirt, it’s his look, it’s been the safe bet for years. It’s possible that Seb didn’t get the Senna shirt to him in time, that he was already late ((which he was lmfao)) and didnt find an opportunity to change before the ceremonies, or maybe he just .. didn’t want to put it on. Bottas didn’t wear his shirt either. Max was there for the moment of silence, he held the Brazilian flag wid some other drivers. The run wasn’t for charity, just in tribute of Senna and Ratzenberger. Idk if max participated or not but isn’t this .. obsession wid Max’s behavior not a lil belittling of the event. Like Senna is obvi a huge figure in Sebs life, which explains why he hosted this event, brought merch, and will be driving the McLaren MP4/8 this weekend. I’d also expect the drivers who have called Senna their ‘hero’ in the past to be present and have tributes of their own. Max participated, paid his respects, but ur gonna berate him for .. not doing it the way U wanted him to for some reason? Yall turn into actual cops whenever that mf enters the chat I’ve never seen shit like this in my life. Please rest. Btw Brazil currently faces one of the worst natural disasters in history so feel free to help here and here. here is the link to Sennas charity foundation.

[fatliberation]

The Fat Protestor

by @sparklejams and @jordallenhall

For everyone showing up to protest the US government funding of a genocide -- be loud, be safe. Your body is a force. If you are able, use it.

Police identify people by body type/clothing. Be aware (as if you could possibly forget) that you don't have the privilege of blending into the crowd.

Be aware that fatmisic police protocol and infrastructure can endanger your life during arrest.

Let this inform the risk that you take.

If you get arrested: raise hell about being cuffed with your hands in front of your body.

Mid-fat, super-fat, and infinifat people are especially at risk of positional asphyxia when cuffed with their arms behind them. Be especially vocal about any stress position where your knees are raised (sitting on a low police van bench, for instance).

Police typically don't listen to folks when concern is expressed over being cuffed in the back -- be loud. Verse yourself and your community in de-arresting practice. These risks are not commonly known, though are present not only for fat people, but also those with asthma and other breathing difficulties.

Make sure the people you are with are informed of these risks before protesting.

Direct action is sweaty. Prepare against crease rashes (yep - it's a normal self care maintenance thing if you have skin rolls/folds. It's normal. It's common. It's nothing to be ashamed about.) by drying with paper towels, using antiperspirant or cornstarch under your breasts/belly. When you get home, shower and treat with a wound cleanser (shoutout bactine spray) or a tea tree oil balm or soap as needed.

Our fat bodies are magnificent contributions at protests. Our fat bodies take more effort to move - think of all the wonderful ways we can use this to our advantage at a protest or direct action. We can block pathways and hold precious land with our fat bodies. We can shield and protect precious people with our fat bodies.

Bring:

• Change of socks. If you get caught in the rain or doused with water, or even if you sweat through your socks - walking around in wet socks will cause bad blistering.

• Light first aid/bandaids

• Water, snacks, meds

• A physical copy of your emergency contact in case of arrest

Try to go with other fat people. Comrades in normative bodies may not always consider your body and what is safe for you - so make sure you loudly advocate for yourself and your needs within whatever group you are with.

Stay cool. Take breaks. Sit or stop when you need to. Try to be hyper-mindful of getting overheated.

In case of hospitalization:

• Make a packet containing all medical info, advance directives, and emergency contacts. Put it in a clear sleeve with a humanizing photo of you with loved ones at the front.

• Learn more about how to make a Connection Kit and humanize yourself to healthcare workers in the Know Your Rights Guide on nobodyisdisposable.org

Remember that there is so much to do beyond the front lines.

• Provide jail support (wait to greet released protesters with water, snacks, hugs, and rides home).

• Provide your home as a central prep and recovery space before/after.

• Stay near the action and offer your car as a mobile phone charging station.

• Provide childcare.

• Drop off supplies.

Honor your body as a resource for civil disobedience. Center your needs.

[princetwo]

𝑴𝑰𝑴𝑶𝑺 𝑫𝑬 𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑨: 𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑜𝑠 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒔

Vincent achou o serviço de entregas do Jester muito suspeito e julgou como inconfiável — quem garante que ele não iria vender tudo e usar o dinheiro para comprar pinga e contratar umas quatro mulheres da vida? É burrice confiar em bardos! Não tive tempo pra enviar todos Então, de forma independente, ele enviou seus muitos mimos para as pessoas que gosta e até para as que não gosta:

Aleera: Um conjunto de joia inspiradas em Sekhmet. Um colar de ouro com um pingente em forma de leoa, um bracelete e um anel com uma topázio dourada.

Aylara: Um kit com produtos para higiene pessoal, com um sabonete em formato de rosa e um perfume bem florido. Junto à cesta, há também um bilhete: “Um presente para todos ♡ Com a cortesia de sempre, V.”

Brianna: Uma caixa de doces inspirados no Egito antigo. A caixa em formato de sarcófago (piadinha mórbida) conta com doces de tâmaras recheadas com mel e nozes, bombons com especiarias raras e pirâmides de chocolate pintadas à mão — mas certamente não pelas dele, que não tem talento nenhum para a confeitaria, mas que consegue pagar pelos talentos alheios.

Caelan: Vincent decidiu — com muito bom humor — que deveria dar algo que seu irmão ainda não tem. O presenteou com um relógio de bolso com um adorno de trevo de quatro folhas na tampa, mas que secretamente está amaldiçoado para dar azar em coisas pequenas e triviais, como nas apostas.

Damen: Uma caixa de charutos muito elegante, sendo idêntica a que o príncipe guarda no próprio quarto. Do lado dos charutos, há também um vidrinho com ópio, que na verdade é a parte que considera mais interessante. O bilhete diz: “Use com sabedoria e longe da Cissa.”

Delyth: Luvas brancas de seda.

Deirdre: Um batom escarlate e um colar elegante com um corvo estilizado e penas negras.

Elewen: Um pincel com um encantamento baseado num conto antigo (ok, eu admito que é em Barbie Rapunzel). O pincel da vida aos desenhos, criando uma ilusão bonita em tudo que é desenhando com ele.

Elora: No fundo da gaveta, Vincent encontrou umas balinhas de menta que, por serem bastante fortes, são ótimas para combater o mau hálito, então juntou várias delas e embalou num saquinho bonito para presentear Elora com o sorriso mais cínico do mundo.

Eirik: Ele encomendou uma caixa com doces finos de sabores neutros e equilibrados na confeitaria mais chique de Zelaria e pediu para o cozinheiro acrescentar um ingrediente especial… com efeito afrodisíaco para incentivá-lo a se soltar mais.

Freyja: Um hidromel importado da melhor qualidade e uma tapestria belíssima que retrata o Ragnarök, passando por várias cenas que mostram do ciclo do caos ao recomeço do mundo com Líf e Lífthrasir.

Gale: Uma miniatura de navio dentro de uma garrafa.

Mikah: Um mapa de Hexwood (de piadinha, porém útil) e um amuleto de proteção encantado por ele mesmo, com aons gravados para proteger contra o mal.

Narcissa: Um perfume de rosas com um toque de romã.

Sevilay: Um vestido azul escuro deslumbrante cuja estampa de céu estrelado é bordada a mão (mas novamente- não pelas dele), com as constelações escolhidas sendo as favoritas dos dois.

Sigrid: Um binóculo daqueles para ópera/teatro. Afinal, ela parece estar precisando enxergar melhor.

Tadhg: Um alaúde marrom-avermelhado, na cor de Burukdhamir.

Zoya: Um perfume floral genérico que Vincent imagina que vai parar no lixo.

Bicho, eu acho que nem dá pra marcar tanta gente, então vou apenas ter fé que vai chegar em todos os citados.

[taintandviolent]

Please read warnings on post to find out if something is nsfw or not, or what triggers are present. MDNI, 18+ only. Dark content ahead. dividers by me & anitalenia!

James Patrick March Jimmy Darling Kai Anderson Kyle Spencer Kit Walker Tate Langdon

Quicksilver Gambit

Roman Godfrey / Hemlock Grove Count Orlok / Nosferatu Eric Draven / The Crow (2005) Rien (Marquis de Gramont x reader)

Miscellaneous works Eddie Munson / Stranger Things Max Cooperman / Never Back Down 1 & 2 Oz Cobb / The Batman 2022 / The Penguin 2024 Jerry Dandridge / Fright Night 2011

[yamayuandadu]

Horned hermits and immoral immortals: an inquiry into Zanmu's background

As you might remember from my previous post covering Zanmu, I was initially unable to tell how her historical background led to ZUN choosing to make her an oni. The historical, or at least legendary, Zanmu seemed to be, for all intent and purposes, a human. That has since changed, and the matter now seems considerably more clear to me. Read on to learn more about the real monk Zanmu is based on, and to find out what she has in common with the most famous Zen master in history, Taoist immortals, and Tsuno Daishi. Even if you are not particularly interested in Zanmu, this article might still worth be checking out, seeing as the discussed primary sources are also relevant to a number of other Touhou characters, including Byakuren, Yoshika and Kasen.

As in the case of the previous Touhou article, special thanks go to @just9art, who helped me with tracking down sources advised me while I was working on this.

The historical Zanmu

Statue of Zanmu from the Sazaedo pagoda (Fukushima Travel; reproduced for educational purposes only) As already pointed out by 9 here even before my previous post about Unfinished Dream of All Living Ghost, Zanmu is based on a real monk also named Zanmu. His full name was Nichihaku Zanmu (日白残夢), and he also went by Akikaze Dōjin, but even Japanese wikipedia simply refers to him as Zanmu. ZUN basically just swapped one kanji in the name, with 日白残夢 becoming 日白残無. The character 無, which replaces original 夢 (“dream”), means “nothingness” - more on that later.The search for sources pertaining to the historical Zanmu has tragically not been very successful. In contrast with some of the stars of the previous installments, like Prince Shotoku or Matarajin, he clearly isn’t the central topic of any monographs or even just journal articles. Ultimately the main sources to fall back on are chiefly offhand mentions, blog articles and some tweets of variable trustworthiness. The only academic publication in English I was able to locate which mentions Zanmu at all is the Japanese Biographical Index from 2004, published by De Gruyter. The price of this book is frankly outrageous for what it is, so here’s the sole mention of him screencapped for your convenience:

The book referenced here is the five volume biographical dictionary Dai Nihon Jinmei Jisho from 1937. I am unable to access it, but I was nonetheless able to cobble together some information about Zanmu from other sources. Not much can be said about Zanmu’s personal life. He was a Buddhist monk (though note a legend apparently refers to him as “neither a monk nor a layperson”, a formula typically designating legendary ascetics and the like) and a notable eccentric. Both of these elements are present in the bio of his Touhou counterpart.

The Sazaedo pagoda (Fukushima Travel; reproduced for educational purposes only)

Zanmu’s tangible accomplishments seem to be tied to the temple Shoso-ji, which he apparently founded. He is enshrined in the Sazaedo pagoda near it, though this building postdates him by over 200 years. It’s located in Aizuwakamatsu in Fukushima. You can see some additional photos of his statue displayed there in this tweet. It’s a pretty famous location due to its unique double helix structure, and it has a pretty extensive article on the Japanese wikipedia. It’s also covered on multiple tourist-oriented sites in English, where more photos are available (for example here or here). There’s even a model kit representing it out there. Sazeado’s fame does not really seem to have anything to do with Zanmu, though. While many Buddhist figures ZUN used as the basis for Touhou characters in the past belonged to the “esoteric” schools (Tendai and Shingon), Zanmu was a practitioner of the much better known Zen, specifically of the Rinzai school.

The kanji mu (無 ) caligraphed by Shikō Munakata (Saint Louis Art Museum; reproduced for educational purposes only) Since the concept of “nothingness” or “emptiness” represented by the kanji 無 (mu) plays a vital role in Zen (see here or here for a more detailed treatment of this topic; it’s covered on virtually every Zen-related website possible though), and there’s even a so-called mu kōan, it strikes me as possible this is the reason behind the slightly different writing of the names of ZUN’s Zanmu, as well as the source of her ability. Granted, the dialogue in the games makes it sound like Zanmu (and by extension Hisami) just talks about nothingness as a memento mori of sorts, which is not quite what it entails in Zen. Of course, ZUN does not adapt Buddhist doctrine 1:1 (lest we forget Kasen seemingly being unaware of the basics of Mahayana in WaHH) so this point might be irrelevant.

The legendary Zanmu

The eccentric monk Ikkyū (center), as imagined by Kawanabe Kyōsai (Egenolf Gallery; reproduced for educational purposes only)

A number of legends developed around the historical Zanmu. If this blog post is to be trusted, there is a tradition according to which he was a student of arguably the most famous member of the Rinzai school, and probably one of the most famous Buddhist monks in the history of Japan in general, Ikkyū. He is remembered as the archetypal eccentric monk, and spent much of his life traveling as a vagabond due to his disagreements with Buddhist establishment and unusual personal views on matters such as celibacy. As I already said in my previous article pertaining to Zanmu, long time readers of my blog might know Ikkyū from the tale of Jigoku Dayū and art inspired by it, though since this motif only arose in the Edo period it naturally does not represent an actual episode from his very much real career. 

A page from Ikkyū Gaikotsu (wikimedia commons)

In art a distinct tradition of depicting Ikkyū with skeletons developed, as seen both in the case of works showing him with his legendary student Jigoku Dayū and in the so-called Ikkyū Gaikotsu. Skeletons also played a role in Zen-inspired art in general (for more information see here). Whether this inspired ZUN to decorate Zanmu’s rock with bones is hard to determine, but it does not seem implausible. It would hardly be the deepest art history cut in the series, less arcane of a reference than the very existence of Mai and Satono or Kutaka’s pose. Obviously, it does not seem very plausible that Ikkyū ever actually met the historical Zanmu. Ikkyū passed away in 1481, and Zanmu in 1576, with his birth date currently unknown. Even if we assume he was a particularly long-lived individual and by some miracle was born while Ikkyu was still alive, it is somewhat doubtful that an elderly sick monk would be preaching Zen doctrine to an infant. However, apparently legends do provide a convenient explanation for this tradition. Purportedly Zanmu lived for an unusually long time. The figure of 139 years pops up online quite frequently, and does seem to depend on a genuine tradition, but even more fabulous claims are out there.

Kaison Hitachibō, as imagined by an unknown artist (wikimedia commons)

According to another legend, Zanmu was even older, and in fact remembered the Genpei war, which took place in the Heian period - nearly 400 years before his time. Supposedly he told many vivid tales about its famous participants, Yoshitsune and Benkei. A tradition according to which he was himself originally a legendary retainer of Yoshitsune, the warrior monk Kaison Hitachibō (常陸坊海尊) developed at some point. This has already been pointed out by others before me in relation to the Touhou version of Zanmu. From what I’ve seen, some Japanese fans in fact seem excited primarily about the prospect of Zanmu offering an opportunity to connect Touhou and works focused on the Genpei war. The tradition making Zanmu a centuries-old survivor from the Heian period must be relatively old, as his supposed immortality is already mentioned in Honchō Jinja Kō (本朝神社考; “Study of shrines”) by Razan Hayashi, who was active in the first half of the seventeenth century, mere decades after Zanmu’s death. While I found no explicit confirmation, it seems sensible to assume this legend was already in circulation while Zanmu was still alive, or at least that it developed very shortly after he passed away. Perhaps he really was invested in accounts of that period to the point he sounded as if he actually lived through it.

The choice of Kaison as Zanmu’s original name in the legend does not seem random, as there was a preexisting tradition according to which this legendary Heian figure was cursed with eternal life for betraying Yoshitsune by fleeing from the battlefield instead of remaining with his lord to die. You can read more about this here. Apparently there is a version where he instead becomes immortal to make it possible to pass down the story of the Genpei war to future generations (this is the only source I have to offer though), and there's even a well-received stage play based on it, Hitachibō Kaison (translated as "Kaison, priest of Hitachi") by Matsuyo Akimoto. Another thing worth pointing out is that Kaison was seemingly a Tendai monk from Mount Hiei, which means that even though Okina isn’t in a new game, you can still claim she’s metaphorically casting her shadow over it in some way if you squint (and that’s without going into the fact sarugami are associated with Mount Hiei). I've seen two separate sources which mention that according to a legend he trained Benkei there, and that the two did not get along because Kaison was a corrupt monk (lustful, keen on substance abuse, greedy, the usual routine). You can access them here and here,but bear in mind they're old. Zanmu’s Genpei war connection does not really seem to matter in Touhou, though, as ZUN pretty explicitly situated his version in the Sengoku period, with no mention of earlier events. Granted, if you like it, this should not prevent you from embracing the view that Zanmu is an alter ego of Kaison as your headcanon - as I said people are already doing that. It seems equally fair game as “Okina is Hata no Kawakatsu”, easily one of the most popular “historical” headcanons in the history of the franchise. According to this twitter thread, the legends about Zanmu’s longevity (or immortality) have a pretty long lifespan themseles, as they were referenced by relatively high profile modern writers, like Orikuchi Shinbou and Tatsuhiko Shibusawa. 

Buddhist immortals

A word carving of a sennin, "immortal" or "hermit" (wikimedia commons)

Legends about long-lived (or outright immortal) monks, such as Zanmu or Kaison, are hardly uncommon. A work which seems to be the key to understanding their early development, and by extension possibly also the portrayal of Zanmu in Touhou, might be Honchō Shinsenden, “Records of Japanese Immortals”. This title refers to a collection of setsuwa, short stories typically meant to convey religious knowledge or morals. Its title pretty much tells you what to expect. Honchō Shinsenden is an interesting work in that while it in theory deals with Buddhism, and largely describes the individual immortals as, well, Buddhists, it ultimately reflects a Taoist tradition. There is a strong case to be made that it was an inspiration for another Touhou installment, specifically Ten Desires, already, seeing as it mentions prince Shotoku and Miyako no Yoshika and its Taoist-adjacent context has a long paper trail in scholarship, but I will not go too deep into that topic here - expect it to be covered in a separate article later on. Stories of immortals are pretty schematic, and their protagonists can be categorized as belonging to a number of archetypes. I think it’s safe to say this has a lot to do with the self-referential character of this sort of literature - compilers of new works were obviously familiar with their forerunners, and imitated them for the sake of authenticity. In China, literary accounts of the lives of immortals circulated as early as in the first century BCE, with the concept of immortals (xian, 仙, read as sen in Japanese; this term and its derivatives have various other translations too, with Touhou media generally favoring “hermit”) itself already appearing slightly earlier. It seems Shenxian Zhuan (Biographies of Spirit Immortals) by a certain Ge Xuan, certified immortals enthusiast and cinnabar-based immortality elixir connoisseur (discussing and developing immortality elixirs was a popular pastime for literati in ancient and medieval China), can in particular be considered the inspiration for the later Japanese compilation. While the concept of immortals was largely developed by Taoists, tales focused on them were already not strictly the domain of Taoism by the time they reached Japan. They were embraced in Chinese culture in general, both in strictly religious context and more broadly in art. In Japan, they came to be incorporated into Buddhist worldview, and in fact Honchō Shinsenden states that their protagonists can be understood as “living Buddhas” (ikibotoke), a designation used to refer to particularly saintly Buddhists. Their devotion to both Buddhas and other related figures, and to local kami, is stressed multiple times too.

Presumably this was the result of the influence of the Japanese Buddhist concept of hijiri (聖), a type of particularly rigorous solitary ascetic in popular imagination regarded as almost divine. Needless to say, most of you are actually familiar with the hijiri even if you never read about them, as this is the source of Byakuren’s surname and a clear influence on her character too. In Honchō Shinsenden, it is outright said that the sign 仙, normally read as sen, should be read as hijiri in this case.

A portrait of Huisi (wikimedia commons)

The notion of extending one’s lifespan was not incompatible with Buddhism, as evidenced by tales of adepts who lived for a supernaturally long period of time to show their compassion to more beings or to get closer to the coming of Maitreya. Even the founder of the Tiantai school of Buddhism (the forerunner of Japanese Tendai), Huisi, was said to meditate in hopes of extending his life to witness Maitreya. At the same time, Chinese compilations of stories about immortals do not list Buddhists among them, in contrast with Japanese ones. This might be due to the rivalry between these religions which was at times rather pronounced in Tang China, culminating in events such as emperor Wuzong's persecution of Buddhism. Let’s return to Honchō Shinsenden, though. Its original author was most likely Ōe no Masafusa, active in the second half of the eleventh century. No full copy survives, but the original contents can nonetheless be restored based on various fragmentary manuscripts. Some of the sections are preserved as quotations in other texts or in larger compilations of stories, too. I have seen claims online that the historical Zanmu is covered in some editions of the Honchō Shinsenden or works dependent on it. So far I was only able to determine with certainty that Zanmu is covered alongside the immortals from Honchō Shinsenden in at least one modern monograph (Nishi-Nihon-hen by Kōsai Chigiri; if anyone of you have access to it I’d be interested to learn what exactly it says about Zanmu) and a number of posts and articles online. However, he lived around 400 years after this work was completed, so he quite obviously does not appear in its original version, contrary to what the Touhou wiki says right now. Masafusa does not necessarily portray the immortals as pinnacles of morality, and indeed moral virtues do not seem to be a prerequisite for attaining this status in his work. It is therefore possible that despite being setsuwa, his tales of immortals were an entirely literary endeavor and were not meant to evoke piety, let alone promote the worship of described figures.

A recurring pattern which unifies all of these tales is describing immortals as eccentric. As I already noted, this is a distinct characteristic of the historical Zanmu too, and it comes up in the bio of his Touhou counterpart as well. She has “reached the absolute pinnacle of eccentricity”. It seems safe to say ZUN is aware of that pattern, then, and consciously chose to highlight this. He also stresses that Zanmu has lived through an era of marital strife, specifically through the Sengoku period. The inclusion of such episodes is another innovation typical for Japanese immortal tales, and does appear to be a feature of the tradition pertaining to Zanmu’s counterpart too, as discussed above. Horned hermits?

A modern devotional statuette of Laozi with horns, found on ebay of all places; reproduced here for educational purposes only.

There is a further possible feature of Zanmu that might be tied to Honchō Shinsenden. While there are numerous physical traits attributed to immortals in Chinese sources, Masafusa decided to only ever highlight two. One of them are unusual bones, the other - horns on the forehead. Tragically one of my favorites, square pupils (mentioned in Liexian Zhuan), is missing. Masafusa relays that an anonymous hijiri, the “Rod-Striking Immortal”, grew stumpy horns as a sign of attaining his supernatural status.This might be a stretch, but perhaps Zanmu, due to being the Touhou version of a legendary immortal, also already had horns before becoming an oni. You have to admit it would be funny.

The two horns - or rather small bumps, based on available descriptions -  characteristic for some immortals were known as rijiao (日角; “sun-horn”) and yuenxuan (月懸; “moon crescent”). Such unusual physical features were already attributed to various legendary and historical rulers and sages in China in the first century CE, so this is not really a Taoist invention, but rather an adoption of beliefs widespread in China in the formative years of this religion. They also intersected with the early Buddhist tradition about the so-called “32 marks of the Buddha”, documented for example in Mahāvastu and later in Chinese Mahayana tradition which Taoist authors were familiar with. Yu the Great, the flood hero, was among the legendary figures said to possess horns in Chinese tradition. It is even sometimes believed Laozi had them when he was born, which according to Livia Kohn was meant to symbolically elevate him to the rank of such mythical figures as Fuxi.

While this is ultimately a post focused on Zanmu, I think it’s worth pointing out this belief in horned ascetics has very funny implications for Kasen. Being a “horned hermit” is not really an issue, it would appear. If anything, it adds a sense of authenticity. Clearly Kasen needs to study the classics more.

Immortals (and mortals) in hell

One last connection between Zanmu and legends about immortals is her role as an official in hell. However, this is much less directl. Early Chinese sources mention “Agents Beneath the Earth” (dixia zhu zhe 地下主者), a rank available to low class immortals choosing to serve in the land of the dead. They could be contrasted with the immortals inhabiting heaven, regarded as higher ranked than them. However, note that there are also many narratives focused on mortals becoming officials in hell - in Japan arguably the most famous case is the tale of Ono no Takamura, a historical poet from the early Heian period. In Chinese culture there are multiple examples but I think none come close to the popularity of judge Bao. It does not seem any immortals playing a similar role retain equal prominence in culture. Ultimately this paragraph is only a curiosity, and a much closer parallel to Zanmu's role in hell exists - and it’s connected to materials ZUN already referenced to booth.

Corrupt monks, oni and tengu

Ryōgen, the most famous monk turned demon, and his alter ego Tsuno Daishi (wikimedia commons)

In addition to characterizing Zanmu as eccentric, ZUN also wrote in her bio that she is a corrupt monk. As we learn, she developed a belief that the best way to reconcile the Sengoku period ethos which demanded boasting about the number of enemies killed with Buddhist precepts was to focus on spirits rather than the living, since she will basically deliver salvation to them. She ultimately “absorbed some beast-youkai spirits, thus discarding her life as a human”. This to my best knowledge does not really match any genuine tradition about the historical Zanmu, related figures or anyone else. As far as I can tell, it’s hard to find a direct parallel either in irl material or elsewhere in Touhou... at least if we stick to the details. More vaguely similar examples are not only attested, discussing them was for a time arguably the backbone of Buddhist discourse in Japan, and neatly explains why Zanmu became an oni. The idea that monks who broke Buddhist precepts in some way turned into monsters is not ZUN’s invention. It first appears in sources from the Heian period, and gained greater relevance in the Kamakura period. Particularly commonly it was asserted that members of Buddhist clergy who fail to attain nirvana turn into tengu. However, oni were an option too. Bernard Faure points out that Ryōgen, the archetypal example of a fallen monk (see here for a detailed discussion of this topic, and of his return to grace as a demon keeping other demons at bay), could be described as reborn as an oni, for example. The Shingon monk Shinzei is variously described as turning into an oni, a tengu or an onryō (vengeful spirit). Oni are also referenced in a similar context in Heike Monogatari alongside tenma, a term referring to demons obstructing enlightenment in general.

Corrupt monks turned into tengu in the Tengu Zoshi Emaki (wikimedia commons)

Typically it was believed that monks who turned into demons went to a realm variously known as makai, tengudō or madō. As you may know, normally there are three realms one should avoid reincarnating in - beasts, hungry ghosts and hell - but this was basically a bonus fourth one. Granted, this view was not recognized universally, and the alternative interpretation was that it was just a specific hell with a distinct name. At the absolute peak of this concept’s relevance, the foremost Buddhist thinkers of these times, including Nichiren, were accusing each other of being demons. Additionally, some of the past emperors, especially Sutoku and Goshirakawa, could be presented as tengu, for example in Hōgen monogatari. There was also an interest in finding gods who could keep the forces of disorder at bay. You can see echoes of these beliefs in rituals pertaining to Matarajin, which ZUN rather explicitly referenced in Aya's route in Hidden Star in Four Seasons. Typically the reason behind transformation into an oni, tengu or another vaguely similar being were earthly attachments. Alternatively, it could be pursuing gejutsu, “outside arts”, essentially teachings which fell outside of what was permitted by Buddhism. Note this does not necessarily mean anything originating in religions other than Buddhism, though, the term is more nuanced. So, for instance worship of kami or following Confucian values are perfectly fair game. A synonymous term was gedō, “heretical” way (on the use of the term “heresy” in the context of study of Buddhism see here). We can make a case for Zanmu’s bio alluding to that - she wanted to adhere to the social norms of the Sengoku period by symbolically taking in a headcount by absorbing spirits, I suppose. That’s not really a thing in any Buddhist literature, though, and I assume ZUN came up with this himself. Conclusion While this article is slightly less rigorous than my recent research ventures pertaining to Matarajin, let alone the Mesopotamian wiki operations, I hope it nonetheless sheds some additional light on Zanmu. I will admit I already liked her even before I started digging into the possible inspiration behind her, and finding out more only strengthened my enthusiasm. While there are clear parallels between Zanmu, her namesake and a variety of other characters from Japanese and Chinese literature and religions, as usual for a character made by ZUN her strength lies both in creative repurposing of these elements and in adding something new.

Postscriptum: Zanmu and Tang Sanzang?

Xuanzang, as depicted by an unknown Qing artist (wikimedia commons) While much about Zanmu’s character - her backstory as an eccentric fallen monk who became a demon, her apparent zen theme, and so on  - all form a coherent whole, there is a tiny detail which does not really match anything else discussed in this article. It does not come from her dialogue or bio, but rather from Enoko’s. As we learn, she became immortal herself after eating a piece of Zanmu’s body back when the latter was still a human. Or rather, the combination of that and subsequently consuming a magical gemstone as recommended by Zanmu did it - I’m pretty sure I misread this before. As 9 pointed out to me, probably the implications are just that Enoko’s backstory is a partial reference to Perfect Memento in Strict Sense, which does state that consuming the flesh of a monk would be a particularly suitable way for an ordinary animal to turn into a youkai. Still, comparisons between this tidbit and Journey to the West have been made by others before already, so I figured it would be suitable to address them here even if they lie beyond my own argument about the inspiration behind Zanmu. In this novel, many demons want to devour its protagonist Tang Sanzang because his flesh is said to make anyone who consumes immortal. This is because he is a reincarnation of Master Golden Cicada (Jinchan zi, 金蟬子), a disciple of the Buddha invented for the sake of the story. Interestingly, Sanzang is portrayed as an adherent of Chan Buddhism, the school from which Japanese Zen is derived (note that his historical forerunner Xuanzang belonged to the Yogācāra tradition instead). Despite the vague similarities, I ultimately do not think there are particularly close parallels between Zanmu and Sanzang. For starters, Zanmu is meant to be a corrupt monk, while Sanzang is the opposite of that. Their respective characters couldn’t differ more either. Throughout the entire novel, Sanzang is a pretty poor planner, shows doubt in his own abilities, and regularly misjudges the situation. Needless to say this does not exactly offer a good parallel to Zanmu. Sure, she creates a bootleg Wukong, but Sanzang did not create Wukong, the famous primate was just assigned to him as a bodyguard. Therefore, until evidence on the contrary appears (for example in an interview) I would personally remain cautiously pessimistic regarding a possible connection here.  Recommended reading

Bernard Faure, Rage and Ravage (Gods of Medieval Japan vol. 3)

Noga Ganany, Baogong as King Yama in the Literature and Religious Worship of Late-Imperial China

Zornica Kirkova, Roaming into the Beyond: Representations of Xian Immortality in Early Medieval Chinese Verse

Christoph Kleine & Livia Kohn, Daoist Immortality and Buddhist Holiness: A Study and Translation of the Honchō shinsen-den 

Livia Kohn, The Looks of Laozi

James Robson, The Institution of Daoism in the Central Region (Xiangzhong) of Hunan

Haruko Wakabayashi, From Conqueror of Evil to Devil King: Ryogen and Notions of Ma in Medieval Japanese Buddhism

Idem, The Seven Tengu Scrolls. Evil and the Rhetoric of Legitimacy in Medieval Japanese Buddhism

[chiquititamia]

Make you feel better

Enzo vogrincic x reader Primera parte de mi segundo fanfic 💕Enzo es tu mejor amigo y entiende que necesitas sentirte mejor con la regla ❤️‍🔥warnings: de momento el smut es leve, pero la segunda parte será explícita. 💬Agradecería mucho vuestras opiniones. Os leo!

Make you feel better

Nunca te había dado tan fuerte. Es decir, sí, la regla normalmente te daba más hambre de lo normal o náuseas, según el mes. Algunas veces también experimentabas dolores de cabeza muy profundos, que te tenían en la cama durante tardes o días enteros.

Otros meses sin embargo…los síntomas eran otros.

Una especie de celo, de heat, se apoderaba de tu cuerpo; a menudo te despertabas con una sobreestimulación que había transcendido de un sueño y te había hecho meter tu mano entre tus piernas. Después de trabajar, a veces incluso antes de prepararte la cena te tumbabas en tu cama para aliviar la calentura que habías arrastrado durante el día.

Aquel día habías tenido que cumplir con varios mandados desde por la mañana: que fuera tu día libre en el trabajo no quería decir que pudieras descansar, al fin y al cabo, vivías sola y tú eras la única que se iba a encargar de las tareas de la casa como limpiar, cocinar e ir a la compra.

Muy para tu desgracia tu healthy you era quien había ido al supermercado, comprando todo tipo de comida sana, que, además, implicaba una elaboración, la cual no estabas dispuesta a realizar en ese momento. Matarías por un poco de tu chocolate favorito.

Te apresuraste a meterte a la ducha, debías estar algo presentable: tu mejor amigo, Enzo, vendría a pasar el rato contigo y quizá ver una película.

Ya tenías puesta ropa cómoda para andar por casa: una camiseta que te quedaba gigante y unos shorts. Te habías puesto un sostén al salir de la ducha, pero tus pechos se notaban tan hinchados que decidiste quitártelo, dolorida.

Te estabas peinando tu largo cabello mojado hacia atrás cuando el ruido del timbre te sobresaltó.

-Cómo vas, chiquita? -Enzo te saludó con dos besos.

- Podría estar mejor… - te lamentaste.

- Y eso? – Enzo pasó a tu lado y colgó su chaqueta en el colgador de detrás de la puerta.

-No es nada…

-Ah, bueno, mira lo que te traje – Enzo sacó del bolsillo un par de kit-kats de fresa-tus favoritos-y los agitó delante de ti.

Si fueras un dibujo animado se verían estrellas brillantes sobresaliendo de tus ojos.

Sin mediar palabra se los arrebataste de las manos y le abrazaste.

- ¿Che, qué bicho te picó? - dijo Enzo divertido.

Ignorándole corriste hasta tu cuarto con la chocolatina en la mano dispuesta a sentarte en tu cama.  Estaba anocheciendo, así que iluminaste la habitación con la guirnalda de lucecitas que colgaba en el cabecero de tu cama, en adición con la lámpara de lava que casi siempre estaba encendida.

Era viernes de películas: el mejor día de la semana. Desde hacía un tiempo, os habíais propuesto ver una película de terror cada fin de semana. A veces de horror clásico, como El exorcista o La Matanza de Texas, y otras, sobre todo cuando las eligías tú, de terror ‘elevado’, como Hereditary o Babadook. Enzo era, como siempre le decías para molestarle “un viejito en cuerpo joven”, y tenía debilidad por el cine del siglo pasado. Ambos cedíais en vuestros gustos con el fin de pasar un buen rato. Aunque os gustase joder, en realidad erais muy buenos amigos.

¿Amigos? “Sí, amigos”- te tenías que recordar a ti misma de vez en cuando, cuando te despertabas totalmente excitada por haber soñado que hacíais todas esas cosas que no hacen los amigos. Enzo era innegablemente atractivo, sobre todo cuando le mirabas con esa sopa de hormonas que era tu cuerpo en esos días. Pero atractivo o no era tu amigo, y eso se respetaba. Además, ¿qué pasaría si un día hicieras un comentario o un movimiento fuera de tono? Toda vuestra amistad se vería arruinada por algo tan mundano. Ni hablar.

Enzo no era el único que había traído un detalle. Esa misma mañana, en la universidad habías ido a hablar con el “proveedor” oficial de vuestro grupo de amigos y te había dado hierba de la mejor calidad.

La tarde transcurría entre el humo del porro que os estabais pasando mientras veíais la película Déjame salir de Jordan Peele.

-Ese chabón está muerto- comentó Enzo intentando adivinar el destino del pobre protagonista.

Tú apenas le estabas prestando atención a lo que dijo, ni a la película, tu mente se estaba perdiendo por unos lugares absurdos de los que nada bueno podía salir. Te sorprendiste a ti misma saboreando la boquilla del pucho, por el simple motivo de que se encontraba mojado con su saliva. De repente estabas visualizando su boca, sus labios. Despierta, pendeja, ¿qué te pasa?. Te pateaste a ti misma mentalmente por si quiera atreverte a explorar esos terrenos.

Tal y como si fuera un castigo divino por tus pensamientos impuros una tremenda punzada te atravesó el bajo vientre haciendo que contrajeses la expresión de tu rostro y gimieras de dolor por lo bajo. Aunque trataste de disimularlo, tu amigo se dio cuenta mirando un par de veces para cerciorarse de que te había visto retorcerte por el rabillo del ojo. Rápidamente alcanzó el control remoto de la televisión y paró la película.

-Bo, qué tenés? -su expresión contenía más gravedad que la que el asunto requería, por la cara que su amiga ponía podría estar sufriendo un ataque al corazón- Habláme!

Hiciste un gesto con la mano y negaste con la cabeza, dándole a entender que no sucedía nada y que ibas a estar bien, pero su cara decía todo lo contrario, a juzgar por sus ojos aún fuertemente cerrados.

-Contáme qué tenés, boluda, me estás asustando!

-Es solo un…calambre- gruñiste tú luchando por mantener la compostura. Si no lograbas recomponerte le tendría que explicar en detalle lo que le pasaba y, además de la pena que te daba, no tenías ningunas ganas de hablar con aquel dolor apuñalándote.

-¿Comiste algo malo? -se alarmó- ¿fueron mis chocolates?- Sus ojos se habían encendido como dos alarmas de incendio, era hasta adorable el repentino miedo que su amigo estaba sintiendo por ella.

¿Qué te pasa, tarada? ¿Cómo puedes estar disfrutando que tu mejor amigo se preocupe por ti y la pase mal? - te mortificaste.

-Che, Enzo, tranquilízate, sólo es mi periodo … - trataste de sonreír.

Él pegó un resoplido digno de un caballo de carreras, aliviado. Sólo era eso.

-Dale, mirá que sos dramática nena, por un poco de sangre de nada El moreno se rio sin ser consciente de la mirada asesina con la que le estabas fulminando. Si tuvieras poderes ahora mismo tu amigo habría estallado en llamas y estaría corriendo en círculos por tu pieza.

-No…voy a opinar. Seguí con la peli- trataste de respirar profundo como te había enseñado tu terapeuta, no había caso de comenzar una pelea con tu amigo, y menos en esa situación. Tu apartamento podría convertirse en La casa de las dagas voladoras.

-No, dale, chiquita, no podemos seguir viendo la peli como si no pasase nada, no soy tan así, te estaba jodiendo.

Buscaste un atisbo de diversión en su mirada, anticipando que se fuese a burlar de ti una vez más. Algo que en realidad te hubiera dolido. Pero no lo encontraste, parecía hablar en serio.

-Lo que te duele es la panza, ¿no?

Bajaste la mirada y asentiste.

-Mirá, no tienes que avergonzarte ni preocuparte, me he criado con mi madre y mi hermana, y también he tenido novia, sé de qué va

-No me digas -respondes sarcástica. Como si haberlo contemplado le pudiera hacer entender qué era lo que carajo sentías.  

-Bueno, a ver, nunca lo podré saber, soy un varón, pero si que puedo intentar ayudarte. – al decirle esto le puso una mano en su bajo vientre, el cual notaba arder por dentro. Al notar su mano grande y cálida te estremeciste, cosa que pareció asombrarle. No le había sonado exactamente a un sonido de dolor por tu parte – ¿qué más te duele, chiquita?

Estaba claro que Enzo no era consciente del impacto que un solo roce y un solo nombre podía significar para ti viniendo de él, especialmente en ese momento tan hormonal del mes. Sentías que tu aliento era tan cálido que te quemaría la garganta y qué él notaría esa temperatura saliendo de tu interior si llegabas a exhalar cerca de él.

-Y bueno, los senos – dijiste en un tono bajo, aunque intentabas sonar confiada. Con lo que no habías contado es con que ese comentario habías dirigido su mirada directa hacia Tus pechos, que, para más inri estaban desprotegidos de una capa protectora extra de un sostén. ¿Se adivinarían demasiado tus pezones a través de la gastada camiseta que estaba vistiendo?

-E-eso es normal- Enzo tampoco estaba haciendo un gran trabajo sonando casual- ¿querés que te traiga una infusión o algo?

-No, eres muy dulce, pero eso no me ayudaría.  ¿¿Qué?? Ahora le llamás dulce a tu mejor amigo. No, nena, estás perdida. Además, ¿para que le dijiste que te dolían las tetas?

-Está bien, pues no se me ocurren más ideas, nena.

-Sigamos viendo la peli, de veras que estoy… casi bien.

-Si vos decís…

Pasaron unos minutos, quizá una media hora y continuaste viendo la película, que estaba llegando a su punto más álgido de tensión, aunque eso poco te importaba.

Otra oleada de dolor inevitable te inundó nuevamente, y, aunque trataste de disimular, esta vez había sido un pinchazo aún más fuerte que el anterior. Sentiste como si alguien hubiera logrado meter la mano en tu vientre y estuviera estrujando tu útero con el puño como quien escurre una esponja. Además, podías jurar que notabas tus pechos como dos globos a punto de estallar, y, a la vez como si la superficie de estos se encontrase cubierto de hematomas, como si realmente te hubieran dado una paliza.

Enzo, sin apartar demasiado la mirada de la pantalla – al menos que tú hubieras visto- pasó uno de sus brazos por tus hombros, acercándose más a ti, para después empezar a acariciar tu panza con una mano y tu hombro derecho con la otra. Tras un par de caricias de tanteo, su diestra comenzó su arriesgado viaje hacia tu pecho. No podías creerlo, te habías congelado y no querías hacer ningún movimiento, por leve que fuera, que pudiera ser malinterpretado, no querías parecer ofendida y que parase. Lo que más deseabas que sucediera estaba ocurriendo. Un deseo nublado por las hormonas revolucionadas que parecían salir de tus poros y por el dolor, sí, puede ser, pero en ese momento no se te ocurría ninguna buena razón para pedirle que parase.

Sin mayores miramientos, su manó abarcó tu pecho con cuidado, su pulgar y su índice rozaban tu pezón con delicadeza, mientras que el resto de sus dedos masajeaban el resto de tu seno.

-Enzo… -comenzaste por lo bajo

-Shh…- te mandó callar como si la película fuera lo más importante de ese momento.

De alguna forma que no supiste explicar, el calor de tu entrepierna estaba sustituyendo más pronto que tarde al dolor que hasta hace unos minutos estabas sintiendo, lo cual te avergonzó, ¿no era que te dolía tanto?

Continuó ejerciendo la presión necesaria para que tu sufrimiento se suavizara. Estabas usando todas tus fuerzas para no gemir de placer, el volumen de la televisión no sería la suficiente para tapar el sonido que luchaba por salir de tu garganta.

La película termina.

Enzo se aparta de ti suavemente para volver a alcanzar el control remoto y parar la reproducción automática de Netflix.

-Y, ¿qué querés hacer ahora? – preguntó como si nada.

-La puta madre, Enzo, ¿¿cómo que qué quiero hacer ahora?? – estabas entre divertida e indignada

-Sí, ¿querés ver otra peli? Nos queda pendiente Midsommar, eh.

-Enzo, ¿vos me estás jodiendo? ¿Hace dos segundos me estabas tocando una teta y ahora me decís que quiero hacer? – intentabas que no te temblase la voz.

-Y, sólo quería ayudarte, vi que te estaba doliendo.

Eso te desarmó parcialmente, ¿qué podías responder a eso? Guardaste silencio.

-Nena, yo no quiero que estés mal, y si te puedo ayudar, ¿qué tiene?

-…

-Yo sé que hay ciertas cosas que pueden ayudar a las mujeres cuando se sienten así – dijo mirándote a la cara, clavando sus ojos negros en los tuyos. Ahora, por fin, podías notas un ligero tinte en sus mejillas, al menos un atisbo de igualdad de condiciones.

-¿Ciertas cosas? -Sí, bo, seguro que tus ex noviecitos te intentaban hacer sentir mejor, ¿no?

Ouch. Eso había escocido. No, ni mucho menos tus anteriores parejas habían movido nunca un dedo por hacerte sentir mejor acerca de eso (ni acerca de nada en general). ¿Y por qué ese tonito burlesco y eso de decir “ex noviecitos”?

Enzo pudo adivinar por tu expresión que no había sido así, pero decidió no hurgar más en la herida.

-¿Querés que te haga sentir mejor?

Notabas tus mejillas y todo tu cuerpo arder, notabas tu pulsación tan fuerte que creíste que se podía advertir a simple vista en tu piel, que todo tu calor y excitación era visible, pero no se lo querías dejar ver.

-¿Y qué pasa con nuestra amistad? Se arruinará todo y yo no quie-

Enzo te calló posando su dedo índice estirado en tus labios.

-A mí no me vas a perder nunca.

Suficiente. Eso fue suficiente para romperte y que se formaran lágrimas en tus ojos. Bastante sensible estabas ya como para que se le ocurriese ser así de lindo. A Enzo siempre le había gustado molestarte. En honor a la verdad, tú también le molestabas a él, pero siempre habías sabido que te quería a su manera, después de todo, eran muchos años los que habías compartido juntos.

Él se dio cuenta de que tus ojos estaban vidriosos y se acercó para abrazarte en la cama.

-Hey, no… no llores

En ese momento te liberaste de su abrazo para besarle. No en la boca, aún no tenías el coraje, si no en su perfecta mandíbula, entre otras cosas, para hacerle saber que aceptabas su oferta.

Él entendió el mensaje y acarició tu cara, limpiando tus lágrimas con delicadeza.

-Te voy a hacer sentir bien, chiquita.

Entonces, te dio un beso en la frente y separándose levemente puso sus manos en tus hombros y te presionó hacia atrás, para indicarte que te recostaras.

Tú obedeciste y miraste al techo que estaba iluminado por tus luces azules de ambiente, era vuestro cielo particular.  

Díganme si tienen ganas de que suceda!!

Parte 2

[yzashaven]

꒰ 2023 CHRISTMAS SPECIAL ! ꒱

‹𝟹﹒scaramouche x gn!reader

꒰ঌ ໒꒱﹒fluff! ✰ use of y/n ✰ not proofread!

꣑୧﹒if you saw my previous post about this, no you didn't! also, this one's a bit late (as per my time because it is 12am the 27th but i'm sure it's okay ;; can be read as scaramouche or the wanderer!!

꒰ general﹒taglist ꒱ @yukiitaooo @s-cara @kana-de @ciarchivez @m0uchie @ashrodisiac

you were setting up the fireplace in the living room to radiate some heat in the room. it was snowing outside as the wind howled loudly, lakes were frozen, cars were covered in thick layers of snow as the roads outside were as well. as you step back to admire the calming scenery of your living room, a sound could be heard from the front door.

ding dong...!

the doorbell rang, intriguing your curiosity, who could be at your door at this hour? in this kind of weather?

you quickly made your way over to the front door and unlocking it, opening it up soon after. your eyes lit up as you were greeted by him, smiling at you gently, he seems to be holding a few presents.

"merry christmas, love." scaramouche's voice soft as a feather. with a faint blush spreading across your cheeks, you greet him back before embracing him in a warm hug, gesturing for him to come inside.

—✰

you cuddled by the fireplace as you had some hot chocolate together. he also took the time to have brought a gingerbread house kit to make with you, it was a bit messy and the house was slightly crooked but nevertheless, you had lots of fun together.

in the kitchen, you also had some time to make some christmas cookies. of course during these times, a flour blowing battle seems to be necessary—playfully blowing flour from your palms to each other's face which definitely ruined the kitchen, demanding clean up. the cookies ended up way better than expected though, earning you both a delicious dessert to feast on together.

and surely christmas wouldn't really be a christmas without a few gifts being given out. he gave you different presents, being items you had wanted for a long time now; you did the same, of course, giving him thoughtful gifts that he loved so much.

one of his adorable presents for you was a ring. a promise ring to be exact.

"y/n, will you marry me?" he asks dramatically, kneeling down on one knee as he opened up the box with an elegant rose on the top of it. you chuckled and playfully hit him, "get me an engagement ring, maybe then i'll say yes." he responds with light laughter, "don't worry, i'll be sure to get you one next time."

[anem1cprincess]

Eu ganhei um presente de aniversário atrasado de uma tia né, aí ela me deu um esmalte, um kit de shappo e condicionado e um pijama, só q o pijama ficou grande em mim, o short só n caiu pq minha bunda e "grande" pq na cintura ele ficou enorme, será q as pessoas me veem tão grande assim? Será que eu sou uma balofa não assumida? Será que eu sou uma porca? Será que 39kg ainda n é suficiente?

[ncstya]

# ʚ♡ɞ 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒Á𝐑𝐈𝐎, 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐎 .

Mesmo sendo uma grande patricinha que adora gastar dinheiro com presentes caros, Anastasia prefere, em aniversários, planejar algo que realmente faça com que o aniversariante sinta-se especial. No aniversário de @aguillar, dia 17 de agosto, não poderia ser diferente. Como era uma surpresa, entrou sorrateiramente e colocou os presentes para o semideus em frente à porta do quarto dele. Foi embora antes de ser vista. Antes mesmo de ler o bilhete, era óbvio tratar-se de um presente de Anastasia, que fazia questão de borrifar um dos vários perfumes favoritos em cada um dos itens (exceto, é claro, nas flores).

O kit de aniversário de Santiago contém:

Um buquê de rosas vermelhas que continha um pequeno bilhete escrito : You're sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed (frase de uma das suas autoras de romance contemporâneas favoritas).

Uma caixa coberta de um papel vermelho e um laço dourado. Ao abrir, é encontrado algumas folhas, levemente amassadas. São um dos capítulos do livro de romance que Anastasia escreve e foram escritas do ponto de vista do protagonista, inspirado em Santiago. A outra parte do que tem é outra pequena caixinha preta, quase imperceptível em meio às folhas perfeitamente amarradas. Quando aberta, é possível ver um pequeno relicário prateado em formato de coração e com rosas em alto-relevo. Dentro dele, existe uma foto de ambos, tão antiga que provavelmente já tinha sido esquecida por Santiago, e, no outro, escrito A & S.