Tumgik
#also!!! the other question is what do you think? do you agree or do you have even cooler theories/additions?
capricornlevi · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
inevitability- nanami x f!reader
tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay
cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s
word count: 5.3k
a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!
//
"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."
"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"
you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."
"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.
"weird."
because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?
you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.
he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.
even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.
you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.
then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.
his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.
as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.
soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.
then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.
you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.
and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.
with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.
but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.
perfect timing. painfully perfect.
you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.
and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.
in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.
and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.
you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.
you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.
fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.
truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.
it made you grow up, and fast.
in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.
soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.
then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.
you wanted to have a kid.
this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.
to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.
instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.
"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."
"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.
he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."
you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.
nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."
"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.
"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."
you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.
he really would be perfect.
the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.
after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.
you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.
you were gonna have a kid together.
you and nanami.
coparenting.
as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.
when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.
still, no sign of backing out.
which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.
nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.
and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.
he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.
his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.
"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.
he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.
"do ... do you want to?"
his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.
it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --
"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.
his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.
"yeah -- yeah, okay."
you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.
he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.
his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.
he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.
this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?
this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.
this feels like something that was meant to happen.
he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"
you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.
all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.
his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.
you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.
then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.
he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.
this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:
"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"
"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.
when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.
your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.
you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.
but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?
just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.
"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."
you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.
"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."
"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.
"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"
he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.
"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."
"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."
it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.
you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.
but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --
you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.
you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.
you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.
just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.
"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.
you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.
"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."
"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."
nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.
any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.
you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.
"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.
and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.
you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --
but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.
less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.
he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.
nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.
"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"
"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"
"i do."
and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.
"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.
"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.
"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."
at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.
he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.
he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.
you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.
"fuck me, kento."
now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.
it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.
his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.
this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.
your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.
above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.
"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."
you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.
if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.
your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.
"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"
you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;
"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"
you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.
nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.
somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.
you want him like this for the rest of your life.
"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.
though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."
that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.
sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.
you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.
everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.
for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.
you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.
nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.
you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.
"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"
"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.
with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.
this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.
and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.
maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.
501 notes · View notes
maryrouille · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Toxic romanticization of studying
In a word of introduction, my profile partly shows that studying and exploring is wonderful. But as a person involved in science*, I would like to show healthy and true patterns of this beautiful adventure in acquiring knowledge.
The inspiration for writing this post this time was not the phenomenon from Tumblr (although you can also observe it here), but from Pinterest. There you can come across cycles composed of quotes and photos whose aim is to motivate young girls to learn, succeed and get good grades. These images often also show examples of characters from movies, TV series or real life that you can aspire to be like. Overall, I have to agree that it really works! But I would like to draw attention to certain elements that need to be verified.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1. You shouldn't get up at 5am
First of all, the correct amount of sleep is one of the most important factors affecting the proper and effective functioning of our brain. During sleep, nerve cells regenerate, organize information acquired during the day and consolidate memory traces, which is directly related to learning. Lack of sleep increases impulsivity, deepens negative thinking and slows down the body's reaction time!
2. You can be a genius without good grades
Of course, good grades are a pleasant confirmation of our knowledge and praise for hard work. However, sometimes it is worth considering whether the structure of exams themselves, especially those with closed questions, affects the results. We often study for one specific exam, the knowledge of which may be very… limited and sometimes not useful, so it is worth prioritizing the topics that we study hard.
3. It's not cool to think you're better than others
We are different and have different priorities in life. It is also worth considering how many people escape from the rat race and start a slow, stress-free life. So we have to agree that judging people based on grades or responses under stress (sic!) is not cool.
The good thing about romanticizing studying
As I have already said, these types of collages are really motivating. So let's talk about what's great about them and what's worth highlighting and saving for later.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1. Knowledge is beautiful, but your outfit and surroundings can also be
We know that we should never judge a book by its cover, but… the issue of social perception painfully confirms that we do and will continue to do so because this is how our brains work. And isn't it nice when someone looks at us and thinks this girl is so classy?
Moreover, a nice outfit that makes us feel good gives us a lot of self-confidence. There are also many studies confirming the positive impact on motivation and concentration of a neat and aesthetic workplace.
2. Not just cramming, but also discovering
Broadening your horizons is easier with passion and real commitment. And to achieve this, the topics must really interest us. Not everyone has yet found something that they are extremely passionate about in science, so that is why you have to dig deeper and discover different areas.
3. Don't be afraid to use your knowledge in practice
Schools and universities, unfortunately, have their own rules and they do not always allow you to show your 100% potential. Thus, share your knowledge with others externally, write essays, blog and social media. This form of activity also makes you learn things faster and easier. In addition, contacts with others will expand your knowledge.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Therefore, I must say that it is worth choosing your inspirations carefully. Nothing helps you enjoy studying better than a clear head and lack of prejudices.
*This post was inspired by my own experience with studying. If anyone is interested, I think I can share my mistakes that did not help me in an academic adventure :)
123 notes · View notes
ham1lton · 3 hours
Text
QUESTION TIME?
pairings: (platonic) lewis hamilton x f1 driver!reader.
warnings: sexist comments. interviewers asking rude questions.
summary: being the only female driver on the grid means being the unofficial spokesperson for women in motorsports and you’re tired of it.
author’s note: a part of my newest series! i’m still actively looking for more scenarios and ideas regarding this universe! so if u have any thoughts or questions? let me know! i’d love to hear them <3
Tumblr media
“do you worry that being more open and accessible to different drivers will lower the level of competition within formula one?”
the silence could be cut with a knife. everyone in the room looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as they waited for your answer. you took a sip of water as you collected your thoughts.
sometimes, when you were younger and karting, you’d wish that you had been born a boy. that might have been an unpopular opinion but you held it occasionally, although not for the reasons one might think. being a man would have meant that you would have been treated as just another driver rather than a novelty. no one else on the panel was expected to act like a mouthpiece for their entire gender.
taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before addressing the question. "i understand the concern about maintaining the high level of competition within formula one. however, i believe that diversity and inclusivity in motorsports can actually enhance the competition rather than detract from it."
you glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of the reporters and fellow drivers. "by opening up opportunities to drivers from different backgrounds and experiences, we bring new perspectives and skills to the sport. this diversity can drive innovation and push the entire field to new heights."
pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, you continued, "i don't necessarily think talent and competitiveness are determined by gender or any other factor. it's about skill, dedication, and passion for racing. embracing diversity not only reflects the world we live in but also strengthens formula one as a whole."
as you finished speaking, you could sense a shift in the atmosphere of the room. while your response might not have been what everyone expected, you knew it came from a place of honesty and conviction. and deep down, you hoped that your words would spark a broader conversation about the importance of inclusion in motorsports.
the room digests your response, slowly and steadily until another interviewer speaks up. "i get where you're coming from, but let's be real here. formula one is about pushing the limits, about being the best of the best. we can't afford to water down the competition just for the sake of diversity."
you respected his perspective, knowing that he always spoke his mind but god, if that wasn’t the worst way to word that. "i hear you," you replied, "but i don't see diversity as watering down the competition. if anything, it's about elevating it. different perspectives bring new challenges and force us to raise our own game. isn't that what racing is all about?"
he paused, considering your words. "i suppose you have a point," he conceded, nodding thoughtfully. "but we still need to ensure that the drivers who make it to formula one are truly the best, regardless of where they come from."
you nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of maintaining high standards in the sport. "absolutely," you agreed. "and i believe that by embracing diversity, we can do just that. it's not about lowering the bar; it's about expanding it to include drivers who might have otherwise been overlooked."
after a moment, lewis, who had been your unofficial mentor throughout the process of integrating into formula one, raises his hand. he had been listening to the whole exchange with a furrowed brow.
“i just want to echo what y/n has said,” he began. “diversity isn’t a threat, if anything it’s our greatest asset.”
he turned to address the room, his gaze steady. "we've seen time and time again how diversity helps drive innovation and pushes the sport forward. and it's not just about gender or race – it's about welcoming drivers from all walks of life and giving them the opportunity to shine."
lewis paused, letting his words sink in. "formula one should be a reflection of the world we live in – diverse, inclusive, and full of opportunity. and by embracing that diversity, we make the sport stronger, more competitive, and more exciting for fans around the globe."
you smile at that and grin at the interviewer.
“is that a good enough answer for you?” he nods and your remark sparks laughter in the room. after a moment, the interviewers target your peers and you take a deep breath. free at last.
when the interview concludes, you find yourself walking step by step with lewis, who smiles at you.
“you answered those questions well. i’m proud.”
“just followed the hamilton playbook.” you tease. “who knows? maybe i’ll be fighting you for that championship next.”
“i’d welcome the challenge.” lewis laughs, his eyes bright with amusement. “but seriously y/n, never underestimate the power of your voice and your presence in this sport. i always say that the goal is to leave the sport better than we found it, and you’re only in your second season and doing that. i have no doubt you’ll achieve great things.”
his voice is thick with sincerity and he places a warm hand on your shoulder before leaving. as he disappears, a young girl wearing your merch comes bounding up to you. she’s grinning wide with a missing tooth and when she speaks, her accent is thickly american with a strong lisp.
“y/n! hi!” she waves a massive poster in front of you. it has your name, your number and a message of support. “y/n you’re the coolest! will you sign my poster please?”
with a warm smile, you kneel down and grin at her.
“of course! i’d be honoured.” your assistant hands you a sharpie and you scrawl your signature in the corner of her poster. her parents taking a photo of the two of you and then with her parents permission, you sign her hat and her shirt. “thank you so much for all of your support. it means everything and more to me. keep cheering me on okay? i do this for all of you.”
“i will!” she beams. you laugh and pass your assistant her pen. “you’re my hero y/n! thank you!”
she bounces off and her parents wave while saying their thanks. your heart swelled up after that interaction, reminding you as to why you do this. why you deal with all those incessant annoying questions because it gives you the opportunity to help inspire the next generation of young racers.
as you stand there, you see a guy with a camera walking your way. your eyes widen as you make a sneaky escape. today has been filled with enough questions, you think as you hide out in gavin’s office.
Tumblr media
96 notes · View notes
macabr3-barbi3 · 1 day
Text
Alastor/sheep!Reader- Red Riding Hood (Ao3 Request)
Tumblr media
I had so much fun with this! And I'm thinking about doing a little mini-series of retellings of fairy tales because of this so 👀
Tags: chase; outside sex; rough sex; predator/prey for like 3 paragraphs; reader is kind of a little shit
2.6k words
<3<3<3<3<3
The woods are dark and dense, and you curse yourself again for agreeing to undertake this journey for your new manager.
“It gets cold!” She had whined, gesturing to the hairless skin of her Sphynx cat form. “ I could freeze, and its really important that this delivery gets picked up tonight! You’re such a great friend,” she had gushed when you caved and agreed to make the trip for her, to the outermost edges of the Pride ring. Why couldn’t she have just air-shipped the package? “The customer doesn’t like modern technology.”  Why not have him come get it? “He isn’t really a people person, I don’t want to scare anyone off.”
An idiot is what you were- an idiot that was new to Hell and didn’t have many other options for jobs. You were sweltering under the stupid red cloak that she had given you, swearing up and down that the forest you’d be going through got chilly at night and insisting that you take it with you; the only plus to the damned thing was that it had a pocket into which you could slip the delivery parcel. Even though you weren’t technically properly trained for deliveries yet, the thick wool that coated the lush curves of your sheep-like body apparently made you the perfect candidate for the trip through the ‘cold’ woods. 
“Bullshit,” you mutter, throwing the hood of the damned thing back and letting the soft breeze whip past your ears. The trees seem to whistle their displeasure at your presence, your hair swirling around your face as you head in the general direction that the app on your phone directed you. 
There’s a sudden growl in the air, and you freeze where you stand. It almost rumbles the ground beneath your feet, and glancing over your shoulder you see a hint of crimson eyes staring from the darkness.
Fuck that. You take off without any further inspection of the glowing gaze, tossing your phone into the cloak pocket as you run- you don’t need to know what it is if it's going to try to hurt you somehow, and you don’t give a damn about the delivery being on time if it means risking your life. Why wouldn’t your manager have told you there was dangerous shit out here? You get that it’s Hell but for fuck’s sake.
Your lungs are aching as you continue on, not willing to slow or stop while you can still hear the crashing of tree branches and snarling behind you, right at your heels. There’s a hand on the hood of your cloak then, pulling you backwards, and without thinking you slam your head back, horns miraculously hitting home right in the creature’s face. It releases you with a pained groan and you don’t look back, booking it as fast as you can in a different direction, stitch in your side growing more and more painful with every step.
The woods are silent as you finally slow and stop, bracing your back against a tree and trying to catch your heaving breath. Your whole body is on fire, physical exertion having never been your strong suit, but you’re still alive and that’s what matters- body aches will heal, but you heard that regeneration was a bitch.
“Are you chilly, darling?”
The unexpected voice makes you whip around, cloak whirling as you turn. “Fuck!” Your heart is still beating like a drum, hard hammering against your chest from the run before you had stopped to rest. 
The demon casually leaning against a nearby tree watches you with a wide grin, a trickle of blood from his lips where your horns had slammed into him. His eyes, red and lidded, flick up and down your body. “It’s quite rude to leave a question unanswered.”
“It’s also quite rude to sneak up on people. Was that you chasing me?”
“Why, I’m just making sure that you are heading in the right direction! The number of people that have gotten lost on their way to me is truly a nuisance.” He eyes the shape of the package in your cloak pocket. “I’m pleased to see that this one hasn’t been lost to the forest yet.” He steps closer, holds a hand out to you. “Come along now, dear.”
“R-right. Can you confirm the name on the package?”
A wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alastor.”
It matches the name on the package which is good enough for you. “Okay, great. Here you go.” You pull the box from your pocket and hold it out to him. “That’s all this needed to be.”
He cocks his head to one side. “Surely you won’t be leaving so soon.”
“I’m just here to make the delivery, sir.” Your hands are trembling with leftover adrenaline as he takes the parcel, inspects it for a moment, then unceremoniously tosses it over his shoulder into the darkness.
“Your work ethic is to be admired!” He exclaims, ignoring your outraged expression. “But there seems to be confusion- you are the delivery, darling.” When you stiffen at his words he chuckles and creeps closer, circling you like a predator. “Let me guess- you’re new to the shop, you aren’t trained for deliveries, and the manager had compelling reasons for why you should come instead of herself?”
“I-”
“We have an understanding, you see.” He trails a finger down the cloak hanging over your arm. “Retail is a hard business in Hell- no one wants to stick around, people are hard to train, they never last long anyway. Your manager has had to run several of my packages herself and the last one was, sadly, lost to the elements by her own fault.” He looks off into the distance, seemingly irritated at the memory. “What could have possessed her to attempt to cross a river with a priceless antique electronic is beyond me but here we are. I would have simply killed her but she has connections I can use to my advantage so we made a deal instead.” He looks back to you, head cocked to one side as he smiles. “An easy meal as compensation for her transgression. Delivered right to me.” His eyes darken, raking over your form, the curves of your body. “I hadn’t expected her to act so quickly but it’s been some time since I last had mutton.”
“I won’t taste good,” you tell him calmly despite the lingering fear from the chase, and an eyebrow raises in amusement. “When I was alive my mom always said I was rotten, I’m sure that doesn’t translate well to my demon form. And then you’ll have wasted your deal on bad meat.” You keep your voice steady while you address him.
“Oh?” He circles you and you can feel his gaze running over your body again. “I’m not so sure about that, dear- I’ve never found any complaints with meat of any kind. I’m sure you’ll be quite tasty.” He smiles when he comes around the front again, the sharp teeth glinting in the light that filters through the trees.
And fuck, the way he said that shouldn’t have been kind of hot. This was a serious situation, definitely not the time to be thinking vaguely inappropriate thoughts about the demon who was quite blatantly threatening to eat you. “Do you want to risk it?” You ask, and his smile turns curious. “I mean, I’d hate to have to tell you ‘I told you so’ but I would do it. The shop has new people like me coming in every week for training that you could have your pick of instead of taking the first thing to come along; what if you missed out on something really delicious?” 
Alastor watches you carefully. “I suppose you have a point, darling,” he concedes, his slim shoulders shrugging. “A meal that talks back so much would surely be a poor one. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I won’t get a chance to sample you.” His voice seems to drop, a rolling purr in the strange radio cadence he has that makes your hair stand on end and your heart thump in your chest.
“Maybe I could let you have a taste?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, the air between the two of you suddenly charged with tension. “Just, you know. Show you what I mean, that I won’t be any good. Rotten and all that, like my mom says.”
“On the contrary, I think you’ll be very good.” He steps closer to you, towers over your frame with hooded eyes that track the movement of your throat as you swallow. “But I’ll behave myself since you’ve shown me the error of my ways- a mere sampling of your flavor, nothing more. I suppose there is more that I could get out of your manager if I don’t ‘cash in’ right away, as it were.” He brings a claw tipped hand to cup your face, tilting your head one way then the other. “We’ll start here,” he murmurs, and you close your eyes, wait for the brush of his lips against yours.
It doesn’t come- instead you feel him lick along the column of your neck, the muscle hot and wet where it drags against your skin, a shuddering exhale leaving you at the feeling. One hand comes up to rest on your waist, the other unclipping the clasp of the red cloak you wear and letting it fall to the ground. You shiver without it, not from the cold but from the sensations raging through your body at such a simple touch, and Alastor pulls back, licking his lips at the taste of you.
“My disappointment at agreeing to let you go is immeasurable,” he whispers, pupils blown when he meets your eyes. “It’s just as I suspected- delicious.” The hand that released the cloak winds itself into your hair, brushing against the base of your horns. “Would you indulge me in another taste?”
You nod, not trusting your voice to come out clearly, and he swipes along your neck again, allowing his teeth to press gently against your pulse point before he continues down, snaking the hot appendage between the valley of your breasts and holding you tighter to his body. There’s still adrenaline coursing through your body making each touch feel like an electric pulse to your core, and when he growls into your chest you let out a quiet moan that echoes in the quiet woods.
One hand still tangled in your hair, thumb gently brushing against your horns, he slips his free hand under the waistband of your skirt and into your panties, inhaling sharply at the wetness he finds. Claws absent, he slides a finger inside of you, the press of it slow and steady, making you rock your hips into his hand.
“Someone’s eager, hm?” He presses another digit into the slickness of your cunt, bends his fingers in a way that his you seeing stars as he thrusts them in and out of your heat. You let out a soft cry against him and cling to his shirt, up on your tiptoes to let his fingers reach wherever he wants.
“More,” you whimper, letting one of your hands reach up to his face, a move that surprises him. “Please, Alastor.”
He brings his face up from your skin and devours your mouth, his tongue showing just as much attention to your mouth as he had your neck, licking into it with fervor and enthusiasm you wouldn’t have expected from him. “Would you let me have you, darling? This is hardly an appropriate place, but-”
“Yes,” you tell him, not even letting him finish his sentence, and he gently lowers you to the ground to lay across the expanse of the red cloak. He makes short work of his trousers, shoving your skirt up around your waist and slicing your panties off with a quick swipe of his fingers before he fists his cock and slots himself against you. “Oh fuck-” He impales you with a hard thrust, sinking in to the base with a harsh grip on your hips.
“Lovely,” he groans into your ear, and then he seems to lose the capability for language, his words devolving into harsh grunts and growls as he fills you over and over, snapping his hips against yours in a quick rhythm that leaves you gasping and trying to pull him closer. 
A hand leaves your hips to tangle in your hair; you arch up, thinking that he means to kiss you again until his palm wraps around the length of one horn, using it like a handle to pull your head back, throat exposed to him while he rails into you. “Delicious little thing,” he says, and drags his tongue down the column of your throat again, sucking a pattern of bruises along it that you know you’ll spend the next week pressing into with your fingertips. His sharp teeth pinch a bit of skin lightly and you jerk in his hold.
It should have terrified you, instead dousing your body in a liquid flame. “J-Just tasting, remember,” you jokingly reprimand, and his laugh reverberates through your chest.
“How could I forget?” He lets go of your horn, slips the hand between your bodies as he leans back so he can watch you rocking with the force of his thrusts into you. His thumb swipes forcefully at your clit, the ecstasy near overwhelming as he loses some of his rhythm, your cunt clamping down on him. “It's quite selfish to deny me, darling, but I’ll take of you what I can- your pleasure, your body, all of it mine-”
Your eyes roll back in your head as the tension in your lower body snaps, dragging Alastor down with a hand in his hair to meet your lips, desperate and sloppy while you quake and shatter to pieces below him. He spends himself with a snarl in the tightness of your body, slick with your arousal and release as you cry out, the sound swallowed by his mouth.
He remains still for a moment, crouched over you, before he pulls back and rests you gently on the cloak. “This thing is hideous,” he says with distaste. “It made it quite easy to track you- which was the intention- but you must have been sweltering.”
You watch what you can see if the sky through the canopy of the trees. “She said it could get cold,” you laugh, “and I’m a fool. What a terrible job.”
“Not a fool,” he corrects, spreading the fabric out to lay on it beside you for a moment. “Nearly a victim of a deal that didn’t concern you- and perhaps I will still pay your manager a visit- but never a fool. You convinced me not to eat you for now, at least.”
You shoot him a smile. “Well, you weren’t that scary once you stopped chasing me,” you giggle, “besides those sharp teeth.”
His nose wrinkles with his amusement. “Keep teasing me, dear, and I’ll acquaint you with these sharp teeth for real.” He leans close enough to nip at your shoulder, the motion more teasing than painful. “There’s always tomorrow, after all- who knows what my appetite will be once I’ve dealt with that manager of yours? Mutton could still be on the menu.”
“Well,” you say, “if I’ll be out of a job soon so I might go apply at the coffee shop around the corner from our place. I heard their manager is a real ass- how would you feel about duck instead?” He laughs into your shoulder, the sound deep and clear, and you think maybe it wasn’t such a bad job after all if this was where it lead for now.
111 notes · View notes
0what-a-guy0 · 3 days
Text
Are you Sure?- Harvey x Reader (tried to keep it gender neutral) (also on AO3)
You couldn’t help but to think yourself lucky. You watched through the window of the mayor's truck as trees whizzed past. 
“I am so happy you asked me to help you out hun.” Marnie chirped from behind the wheel. Her hair was braided, rather roughly as Jas had only recently started learning how to make the intricate twists. 
You sat, butterflies in your stomach as she drove you both into town. “I really appreciate you taking me..” You chuckled, placing one hand to your face. The older woman leaned over and patted one hand to your knee. “I’m just so thrilled you’re going to ask him!” Your stomach flipped as she spoke. All sorts of uncertainties going through your mind as she spoke. 
“I just know the good doctor will be so tickled.” She giggled giving your knee a squeeze. The pendant sat at home in a chest, you had been so confident when you bought it but as time went on you were beginning to lose your nerve. You heard Marnie laugh, “Don’t worry dearie, he’ll say yes.” She takes your hand in hers, giving it a squeeze, 
The shops in pelican town have enough for day to day needs, and you loved Emily, but for tonight you had wanted something that made you look like the partner of a well respected doctor. 
You wanted something refined, dignified, while modest. You tug at your overalls, feeling as nerves settle in. The shop was nice. Nice dark wood floors, tall windows, stocked with clothes that could make anyone look like a Harvard graduate. 
“Hello, can I help you?” A woman approached, hands clasped behind her back, Marnie beamed at her, stepping between you both, a bounce in her step, “This one is popping the question!” She squealed. Your face flushed as the woman looked between you both. Her eyes went wide and mouth was shaped like an ‘o’. “Do you need an outfit then?” You nod your head fiddling with your hands. “Then come this way.”
You must have tried on outfits for hours in the one store alone. After what felt like outfit one-thousand, Marnie had decided to try another store. Then another. Then another. 
It wasn’t until the final store you had found something you felt worked. Marnie clapped her hands when you stepped out of the dressing room. She squealed in delight as you spun around in the look. “Oh dear he’ll be just smitten!” She said pushing  you back into the stall. “Now get out of it so we can pay for it!”  
On your way back into town the sun had already set. Stars peered down at you both as Marnie pulled into the farm. “Now remember to be careful washing the top darling!” She called as you climbed out of the passenger seat. You waved as she drove back. 
Once inside the house you placed the bag on your kitchen table laying out each piece of the outfit. You looked it over once more satisfied with each detail. You began to walk away. You peered over your shoulder again. Slowly making your way back to the set. You looked it over once more. Then again. 
What were you thinking? This outfit, as nice as it was, was nothing like you. It very much suited Harvey’s aesthetic, but- 
No. You had already bought the outfit. You had already made the plans. Everything had lined up too perfectly. 
Both you and Harvey were incredibly busy people, as the town’s only doctor, there was always someone in need of his attention. Yours was always divided between crops, animals, and other adventures. Since starting a relationship you hadn’t gone into the mines nearly as often as you once had. You still made the occasional venture there when a request was made by Clint or Marlon, but for the most part you had been fairly good about keeping out of trouble. 
That wasn’t to say that you weren’t still incredibly busy. The farm, the town and the mayor made sure of that (less so now that the community center had been completed). Still you and Harvey had agreed quality time with one another was incredibly important. So every Friday night every two weeks you’d have a date night. You’d been good about holding yourselves to that for the better part of two years. It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes you couldn’t make it, sometimes he couldn’t make it. Oftentimes your dates were interrupted by something or someone. 
There were nights however, when you were left alone with each other. 
Nights when you sat across the table from the doctor. Conversation a murmur in the quiet of night. Candles lighting his features. A meal you had cooked him steaming on the table. His skin flushed and curly hair a mess. Those nights when, unintentionally, you moved your chairs from across the table to next to one another when you would lean against him and his arm would wrap around you. His hand resting at your hip fingers splayed gently over your hip holding you to him like if he didn’t you would leave. 
You didn’t know just how right you were in that assessment. 
That his firm hold was grounding for you both. That when you were so close, he felt like he could finally rest. Those loud busy days that left him spinning became quiet, became slow, when he was with you. The smell of your shampoo when he laid his head over yours, the way you fit so perfectly into the crook of his neck, the way your sighs filled the room brought him a sense of peace that he craved like a man starved. He held you not just to be in your company, but to soak himself in it, afraid to let you go and return to a life without you. 
For now you would pace your kitchen in anguish the Thursday night before, going in circles. You moved over to the small chest on your counter. Opening the capsule, fingers brushing over the shell as you took a deep breath. This was getting you nowhere. The only thing that would bring you any peace was asking him. 
“How was your trip into town?”. 
You peaked into the laundry room, the pieces of your outfit spinning in the washing machine. “It went well!” You responded proud of the way you were able to keep your nerves from showing in your voice. The silence was long, it wasn’t often that silence with Harvey was uncomfortable, right now however, it stretched out, it smothered you. “Did you get anything?” He asked after a moment, there were rustling sounds as his voice came closer. 
‘It’s a surprise?” You said sitting on your bed leaning back. His chuckle resonated through your entire body. Low, warm, comforting. “A good one right?” 
“I’d hope so.”
The next morning you sprung right up at…
FIVE AM?? 
You groaned pulling the covers over yourself trying in vain to squeeze that last hour of sleep in. You rolled back over at five thirty deciding to just get an early start. 
Chores which normally took hours only took a single hour this morning. You stared at the field in disbelief. There was no way you had moved through it all that quickly…
You went back through, double checking everything as you did. You flopped back into a chair at your kitchen table somewhat dumbfounded. Rolling your shoulders you decide to cook breakfast, which you often skipped in favor of work. 
You were mid bite of an egg when your phone rang. 
“Morning Ma-”
“Tell ‘em we are gonna be there at 1 to help them get ready!” You heard Haley’s voice ring out on the other end. You quirked a brow. Maru sighed, “we will-”
“I heard her.” You chuckle glancing at the clock on your wall. It was only nine. “Maru..” You sigh through the phone. Her affirmative hum from the other side pushes you to keep going, “Can you be here a little earlier?” Your voice sounds more broken than you intended for it too. There was a pause over the phone. 
“What time?”
You gathered flowers from your fields waiting for the two girls to arrive. A basket of dandelions and daffodils in your hand. It was almost overflowing with all the things you foraged. 
You could hear them before you saw them, “I’m just saying!” Haley laughed, hands raised defensively as they made their way onto the property.  They looked over to you, Maru smiled one hand raised in greeting while Haley’s arm raised in the air waving back and forth. 
When you first came to town the two seemed an unlikely pair, you figured opposites attract. They had done a world of good for one another. It was fun to see the way they worked. Haley would watch Maru work, asking questions left and right as the tech genius tinkered with her machines, happy to answer any questions thrown her way. 
“Ok so..” The blonde said, stretching her arms across your table. You turned towards her humming as you poured yourself a cup of tea. “Can we see it?” She asked, grin splitting her cheeks. 
Your heart stuttered for a minute. You clasp the box gently showing the two women the pendant. Haley’s eyes grew wide as she looked at it. Maru nodded approvingly. “He’ll say yes.” The scientist said. You groaned, “Everyone is saying that but how do you know that..” Maru laughed two hands settling on each of your shoulders. 
“Trust me.”
You stared at your reflection. You had to admit the both of them had done good work. You came back into your room, Maru held up your outfit, head tilted. “This looks like..” she trailed. 
“Like Harvey.” Haley said, mirroring Maru. You felt your stomach flip once again. That had been the goal. Right?
You thought it over staring at the clinic door, pendant (and a few other gifts) tucked into your bag. Harvey never made you wait long. You checked your phone’s clock, 5:59. You were here a minute early. That was ok. That was normal. Considerate, even. 
You might throw up. 
The clinic’s door swung open. You craned your neck to see him. His curly hair was tamed only minutely by a little gel. His regular suit was replaced with a forest green jacket over a black turtleneck. He paired it with dark gray slacks and a black leather belt. His regular frames still sat on his nose. You felt a blush rise up your neck to your cheeks. He looked at you surprised.
“Is that new?” He asked, gesturing to your outfit. You nod, turning from side to side. “Yeah! Uh, surprise?” You chuckle nervously. He cups the back of your head pulling you to him as he places a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “You look nice.” 
The saloon is almost empty when you take your seat. There was a booth in the corner that had been dubbed ‘your booth’ by other members of the town. Gus had even left a candle for you both. When Harvey returned from the jukebox Gus brought over your meals, extra carefully he sat down your bowl of parsnip soup and Harvey’s plate of vegetables. 
“Harvey dear.” He looked up from his meal to look at you, “I’m afraid there are rumors circulating.” he tilted his head, mouth full of food, “everyone is starting to think I’m dating a rabbit.” He rolled his eyes, swallowing the food. “Har.. har..” 
“Maybe..” You sipped on the soup as he responded, “maybe I just want to live a little longer.. Have more time with you.” You splutter just a little in surprise. Soup dribbling down your chin. You grab at a napkin swiping at your face. 
“Was it that bad?” He asks, laughing slightly. “No No!” You exclaim choking on the soup, “it was sweet, very sweet!” You glance down, your shirt was covered in little chunks of vegetables. You groan dejected as Harvey laughs. 
He links his arm with yours as you leave the saloon, guiding you back to his apartment. The space is cozy and warm, filled with his personality, “Did you have any new models?” You ask settling your bag onto the table closest to the door. 
“Not recently. I’ve been saving money..” he responds. He blushes ever so slightly coughing into his fist when you both make eye contact. “Is everything ok at the clinic?” You ask and he nods slowly. “Yes, of course, you just never can be too careful.” His back was turned to you, something in his hands.
Harvey always acted a little strange but now? It made your stomach twist. “Alright…”
You looked over to your bag, hopping just a little on your way to it, “I brought you a gift.” 
He turns back to you sliding his hands into his pockets. You pull the bottle of wine from your bag, followed by the bag of leeks and spring onions. He took both chuckling, when he realized what was in the bag, “I thought you didn’t like that I was eating so many vegetables.” You shrug, “I guess it does keep me in business.” 
He places the bag and wine on the table behind you, leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips. You smile, hands cupping his cheek. His hands rest at your waist. Innocent pecks sweet presses, harder and harder to maintain as you both smile. Your hands tangle into his curls twining in them as the rumble in his chest reverberates through you. He leans further and you place a hand to the table trying to steady yourself. 
Your palm brushes against your bag which slides to the floor. 
You freeze when you hear an audible crunch. He pulls back from you, “What was that?”
You can already feel the sting in your eyes, you move to the bag digging through the contents hoping against all hope…
There in the bottom were the shattered remains of the shell. You don’t even realize that tears are rolling down your face as you gather the pieces in your hands. Harvey rushes to your side on his knees before you can register that he was there. 
You turn to face him, lip wobbling, “I’m sorry..” You squeak, extending the shards to him. He looks at your palm lips parted before his eyes search yours.
You crumble then into him. He grabs you wrapping his arms around you, “I wanted to surprise you tonight but, then I spilled food all over the outfit I’d bought just for this...then broke the pendant-” He shushes you pulling back to look you in your eyes, “The clothes don’t matter to me. I would have said yes if you came in your overalls.” You wipe your eyes furiously, “Now there is nothing to say yes too!” You cry squeezing your eyes together.
“I wouldn’t say that..” He mutters. 
“But Harvey it’s bro-” Your voice dies out as he fishes through his pocket. A blue pendant and chain dangling from his hand. 
“I guess we had similar plans..” He chuckles bashfully. 
Looking back on it you consider killing Maru for not telling you why everyone in town would be so certain Harvey would say yes.
But when you think about the way he held you whispering, “Will you marry me?” As he wiped tears from your cheeks, you realize that maybe it had been perfect in a way that no perfect plan could compete with.
72 notes · View notes
fuyuu-chan · 2 days
Note
Hi bestie! You told me to drop in so here I am. I'm gonna leave a request while I'm at it hehe Hope you don't mind.
Can I request a Neuvillette fic inspired by Taylor Swift's "Anti-Hero"? I particularly like the lyrics "Hi, it's me. I'm the problem, it's me. At teatime, everybody agrees." It gives me the vibes of a reader who is shunned by society, y'know? Perfect for some angst if I do say so myself 🫣🫢
Anyways, do whatever fits your vibe. I just love the way you write our dear Iudex 🥰 No pressure though! If it's too much, then just consider this as me dropping in to say hello to you and your lovely readers. Have a good day!!!
Love,
Mayaree
Tumblr media
It's me. Hi. I'm the problem it's me :)
Fuyuu-chan: Hiiiii beshy hahahaha thanks for dropping in lol 😆🫶 also for being the first to request 😚
Pairing: Neuvillette x Reader
Summary: Everyone doesn't like you and thinks that you're not worthy for Neuvillette, and so they make fun of you, some even ignored you. By the way people in Fontaine treat you it makes you feel insecure and question your relationship with him.
Warning: Mention of break up, a bit of yandere ish at the end?? It might not look like it for some of y'all but just in caseee hehehehe (Not Proofread)
✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The moment everyone in Fontaine knew about your relationship with Neuvillette would probably the worst thing that happened in your life, because of what people think about you, for not being worthy as the Ludex beloved partner.
And the worst part is that Neuvillette didn't know about any of this, they only talk about it when you're the only one around, when you're not with him. You consider to tell it to him but of course you don't want to bother him, especially since he's busy with his duties as the Chief of Justice.
Now, you got invited to one tea party held by one lady that has been "kind" to you, so of course you accepted it... 'I shouldn't had my hopes up, of course she is gonna be like the others' you thought. Who would've thought that she would be like that? She appeared to be kind to you the first time you met but when with everyone, with her friends and some other ladies, she had just embarrassed you.
She told everyone that (name) is just a common girl, basic, and compared to Neuvillette she's not on his level. She even told everyone that "She's just a problem to our dear Ludex, only a burden for him" she chuckles and everyone at that tea party laughed agreeing to what she said.
Feeling embarrassed, angered, saddened, you just excused yourself saying you'll go to the restroom but after you left you never came back but one thing's for sure, everyone hated you, talked behind your back while laughing. You can't handle it anymore, everyone is insulting you and the fact that you may be ruining Neuvillette's reputation, you feel furious but at the same time what can you do? I mean they're all right aren't they? You're just a problem.
Because of everyone saying things about you, spreading rumours around Fontaine, it's hard for you to go outside because once you do people would look at you and whisper to each other.
Some even threatened you, saying you should stay away from Neuvillette or you'll regret it. You thought it's probably just his admirers that's going way too far, but to be honest it's already affecting your mental health.
Well you did distance yourself from him, like when he ask you out like go to dinner, or have some date you would decline saying you have something to do or you're currently busy. But let's be honest you really wanted to spend time with him. He was at first: "It's alright, next time we could go." But as time pass he was getting worried and confused as to why you were not seeing him anymore.
Always rejecting him. 'What happened?' He thought. You two aren't like this in the past, you two would even date every time there's a free time like after work or weekends. But why are you distancing yourself from him?
This thoughts always bother Neuvillette and the way you act. And now he found himself walking towards your house to talk to you and ask you.
Once he arrives, he knocked on your door. It took you minute to open the door which definitely isn't like you at all since you always open the door immediately when it comes to him (he have like a pattern when he knocks at your door so you know it's him).
You were about to ask him but he just got in your house and closed the door. Now you two are just standing looking at each other, the air seems tense.
"...so uhhh...why did you come here?" You said finally breaking the silence.
"Am I not allowed to come here anymore?" He asked.
"That's not what I meant, what I mean is what's the reason for your sudden visit here?" You clarified.
"It's about you...us...why are you distancing yourself from me? What happened?" He asked.
"What do you mean?... I'm just busy that's why I can't really spend time with you..." You trail off hesitating.
"Don't lie (name)..." He said as he looked at you worried.
"Did I do something wrong that makes you distance yourself from me? If I did I'm sorry... but please tell me so I can fix it." Neuvillette asked as he looked at you in the eyes.
"You?.." you asked as you scoffed a bit. "No it's... it's me Neuvillette, I'm the problem..." You continued as you try not to tear up in front of him.
You can see how Neuvillette's furrow his eyebrows as he heard you speak.
"What? You're not the problem (name), what are you talking about?" He asked as he stepped closer to you.
"So you still don't know?" You asked.
"What do you mean?" He looked at you confused on what you mean.
"People in Fontaine don't like me, they hate me the moment they knew about us, they said I'm not worthy...for you... I'm just a problem...and a burden for you" you said as your voice is starting to break, you didn't even notice that you were now crying remembering everyone's word, insults, threats.
Neuvillette was speechless the moment those words left your mouth. How could he not know about any of this? Did all of the people hurt you like this everyday? He thought that everything was alright but it turns out it's not, how could he let this things happen to you?
Neuvillette wanted to comfort you but when he was about to approach you, you step back and said "I think we should... separate ways, I don't want you to get ruined or people thinking bad things about you because of me" you said as you try to look at him.
He stood there, frozen in his place. He was processing your words inside his head. "W-what?..." He finally get to asked after a few minutes.
"We should break up" you said.
"...But why?"
"Because of me...I was causing you problems, I might ruin your reputation in the future and I don't want that" you answered as you finally looked at him teary eyed.
Neuvillette then approached you as he pulls you closer to him, he held you in his arms. "(Name) please...I don't want to break up with you...Besides you're never a problem, people is just jealous of you and that's why they did that. Besides you will never ruin my reputation because when you came into my life, you taught me how to understand people, how to be considerate and many more. My reputation became much better with you."
You lean on him while you tear up, even if you don't want to but his warmth that enveloped you, you missed it.
"B-but.." you stutter.
"Sshh..." He hummed as he pat your back in order to comfort you just like what you did when he was crying. "I'm sorry I didn't know any of this, I'm sorry you have to go through all of that alone, I'm sorry that I turned a blind eye...and I'm sorry that I'm not there when you needed me the most." He apologized.
After you calmed down you replied to him. "...It's not your fault...so don't apologize" you sniffled as you finally looked at him for him to only wipe your tears away. "No love...it's my fault too for not knowing any of this, for not seeing how much you suffer everyday."
You kept silent as you just let him comfort you. Eventually you found yourself apologizing "I'm...sorry Neuvi...for saying we should break...up".
Neuvillette only shake his head "Its alright... I know you dont mean it, you might had said it but at that moment I can see in your eyes that you do not mean those words" he said as he smiled gently at you. "But...I hope to not hear those words again...I must say my heart ache when those words left your mouth." He continued as he looked a bit sad.
"I'm..sorry, its just that...that was the one I thought would be better for us..for you" you said as you looked down only for Neuvillette to grab your chin gently to make you look at him.
"Its alright...you dont mean that anyways right?" He asked and you nod and that was enough for him to smile again. "It's those people that made you think that...I cannot believe they had the audacity to say those vile things to my beloved, to my partner, who I love dearly from the bottom of my heart. I serve them for so many decades, I protected them yet they return all those things I did with this?" he said as he tucked your loose hair behind your ear. "They didn't even repsect the person I chose to be with me forever" he looked so mad that he let these things happen but you hugged him to calm him down a bit.
"What are you gonna do?" You asked while you lean onto his chest, he reciprocated your hug as he wrapped his arms around you waist.
"Don't worry love...I will handle it all...you just rest here and relax while I fix these, alright?" Neuvillette said as he rubbed your back. "It would also be nice if we could leave Fontaine for a few days to have your mind forget this for a while, don't you think?" He asked as he looked at you.
You hummed and nod. "I guess that would help...but how about your work?" You asked as you now looked at him to meet his gaze on you.
"I'll take a few days off, I'm pretty sure the others could handle the court for a while. Especially since there's no big cases as of now." He explained and that's enough for you to relax a bit.
You finally smiled and that made Neuvillette happy, seeing you smile again made his heart finally calm down and his mind to finally rest. For now he let himself relax on your warm embrace and for later...he would deal with those people that dare hurt his beloved (name).
Tumblr media
ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ
Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you.
50 notes · View notes
modawg · 2 days
Text
major yap warning; deep dive into parecabeth (parent!percabeth)
what age were we thinking percabeth would have kids ?
to me annabeth has always been such a planner that i always thought she'd plan all that out, like on their wedding night annabeth pulls out like three binders with ages on the front '20-30's, 30's-40's' and is like "bitch you better be ready"LMAO, though i KNOW percy is DYING to have children i also know percy would def respect her decision to have kids a little later after she's settled in her career
i think i always saw them (having a girl teehee) in their early 30's and i will always stand by the at home dad percy would def be
like maybe up until their ready he works to save; working maybe at an aquarium or some other random places that work with his skills (also dependent on what he actually goes to college for) then once annabeths secure they have their first kid percy stays home and writes his books based on the stories he would tell his daughter (like rick did)
this also gives them another source of income; he prob uses a fake name (cough rick riordan cough) so he doesn't get like stalked or smth but its still nice money to have
i think they'd have a simple two, maybe two girls (teehee) and reference camp as their other kids; their kids growing up surrounded by hundreds of other demigod kids along with the kids of their friends
i once read this fanfic where annabeth designed and built the home they have kids in and i agree with that deeply i think she would get pregnant right as the house would finish up and use the rest of her pregnancy to decorate and really home it up until she gave birth
i think they would stay close to NYC to be closer to sally and paul (and prob annabeths job too) but it would be further away from the city and closer to Montauk
I think that house (and family tbh) would be the pillar for everyone else like most of the time if their friends want to see them they go there rather then the other way around
they probably have cookouts every other weekend, porch jams into the night when apollo kids come to visit, i think the house def has enough room for guests, demigods dropping by every so often for a place to stay but I also think its common curtesy to not try and pry like they don't try to get them to join they just come to shower, to get some wisdom and leave; I think having percy and annabeth as parents would cause a shift in CHB like they always do, percabeth is literally the next generation of adult greek demigods even if they aren't the first to have kids they're the first since the first war to LIVE this long, and to have a fulfilling life that they're willingly sharing with CHB and i think that would really start to give greek demigods hope pushing them more towards the future CJ has (GOD I LOVE THEM)
speaking of room; theres a guest room on the first floor with big windows and house plants that they call the g-room for green room, built for the man himself, g-man. Juniper and Grover come to visit alllllll the time (along with tyson) like its basically their second house, everyone refers to their kids as cousins and even when they grow up theres no questioning that
^ jumping back to having kids i could def see apollo blessing annabeth with an easy pregnancy, safe birth, and quick recovery; i could see percy and annabeth telling CHB and CJ just a couple days after and them pulling up to camp with a big, but quiet, celebration; big feasts and sentimental presents, i could see CHB burning shrouds like they did after their first quest all beautifully embroidered, the campfire dancing with different colors from everyones emotions
i wish we knew more about CJ traditions but i know they would have a feast too and it would be like unlocking the next level being able to explore CJ from the new lighting of parenthood; they probably have an honorary small house gifted to them so they can come and visit whenever but i feel like most friends would come to CHB for the bigger celebration first
god and don't get me started on the hunters GOD i just know thalia is BAWLINGGG and she def comes to visit all the time bc she's probably the god-mother like how grovers probably the god-father
and i know that convo was a hard one having literally everyone in the room crying when they asked
41 notes · View notes
sssammich · 1 day
Text
the romance of an alternate universe
to think that you can imagine a different world so easily beyond this one, if only to pacify, if only to forget. the bittersweetness of your joy in another world where little currently exists here. the longing that doesn't come away empty handed because there, she likes you, trusts you, has no reason to ever question years of friendship and the traces of more.
you only have the one life here, in this one, in this universe, in this timeline, in this moment and that's all.
but the possibility in others, even in just one other, is enough to make you hope that things here will eventually blow over better for you.
knowing the existence of alternate universes, having traveled to them, aches inside your chest because there, your dreams are real. there, your heartbreak is soothed. there, she does not regard you with hatred, disdain, anger, disappointment, heartbreak. there, you did not commit mistake after mistake, each one chained to one another until in the end, you come away with cuffs that lock you, an imprisonment of your own design.
maybe you consider moving to an alternate universe, weighing to suffer the consequences of your choice there instead of here. because it beats being here, it beats having ruin and ashes as the world you live in now.
your friends and family won't understand. they can't understand. all your good intentions remain good, but your impact have been nothing but disastrous.
certainly the rogue alien pummeling you into the rooftop of her tower doesn't understand. but maybe he's traveled here from an alternate universe of his own. and he's just trying to get away. that, you understand.
despite the blood and grime all over you, you wrap your arms around his neck and you don't let go--he's a growing tidal wave as he attempts to rid himself of you. but you hold onto him, locking your limbs around his back, and you don't let go. if there's one thing you'll do right today, it's defeat him.
the rooftop doors open and you see her. she is so beautiful today. and you, bloodied and aching, are exhausted.
you cannot read what her eyes or face are showing--might be the pounding headache and blurred vision on your part. but she is still looking. and it's more than what you can say for the last four miserable months of your life.
you think you hear her say your name, but you're not sure. you don't want to get your hopes up.
he's punching your side and you just tighten your hold around his neck which only pisses him off more. well, get in line, buddy, you're not the only one.
agents rush out to surround your duel with him, and you hear your sister command this small army that has circled you. her appearance just means that you have to hold on even more knowing that one wrong move and you're endangering two people you love.
this alien has just about had enough of you, and you can't agree more, so you try to subdue him by using what remaining energy you have to deliver an unconscious blow, but he gets a hand on your ankle and yanks you off of him before slamming your body down onto the concrete. a crater with your name on it.
there are muffled gasps and you hear your sister order for agents to attack and he wails above you in anger as specialized bullets hit him. his massive hand grabs you by your emblem and he pushes you into the ground, your lungs fighting to breathe at the heavy weight. your hands paw at his wrist to push him away, to no avail. your powers are waning, your energy is zapped, you really are so very tired.
when you look up, there is surprising calm in his onyx eyes despite the rumbling storm around you.
and you think this might be it for you.
you expect pain on the final blow but instead of pain, your body is heaved forward and into nothingness, the weight of his hand on your chest now acting as an anchor.
you hear your sister call for you. but you also hear her, her piercing scream cutting through your consciousness. there is panic, there is worry. for you.
and then they’re gone.
and so are you.
only to open your eyes in the exact same place as before underneath the exact same sky. except there are no agents. there is no rogue alien. there is no sister.
but there is her.
tentative, frightened, curious. she is looking at you and you are looking at her and you realize she is not who you know. and you wonder if the crushing weight on your chest is a phantom pressure from the rogue alien who was seconds away from killing you.
she is kneeling beside your body that's still stretched out flat on the ground. and she is looking at you with just so much.
and she is saying, “who are you?"
and you.
you begin to cry.
50 notes · View notes
butch-reidentified · 4 hours
Note
if you think agp is a thing(and presumably exclusive to trans women) what do you think of cis women claiming to masturbate in front of mirrors and CIA women who report being aroused by breastfeeding?
literally every single answer to these questions is available on my blog. I'm tired of writing the same posts over and over and over. if you can't find sufficient answers scrolling my blog, searching key words on my blog (or on google citing my blog, which yields better results oftentimes), going through the links in my pinned, or checking the tags referenced in my pinned, then I'd say if it's reeeeally important to you to get answers, your best bet will be to sit tight and occasionally check for updates to my Pinned as I am gradually adding more and more links detailing my views, and/or skim my blog from time to time - it's pretty much guaranteed to cycle through again within a month at most 🤷
I was actually gonna put a partial (that is to say, just not my usual thorough, detailed, and nuanced) answer at the beginning, but honestly I'm getting VERY tired of anonymous strangers who most likely just stumbled across my blog for the first time today thinking they're entitled to a personalized thinkpiece from me when almost every time I get an ask like this (which are distinctly different from good faith curiosities, which I'm more than happy to answer), I've already posted my answer, I've already written about the subject in depth on my blog. so I'll put my answer below instead so you have to read all of the above first, so you at least sort of vaguely kinda earn some response by putting in a miniscule fraction of the work/time I've put into both reading/informing myself about all sorts of different opinions, ideologies, experiences, perspectives, and views (rather than just demanding opinions from strangers on anon, lmao) and writing countless posts (& that's just on here, ignoring the offline side which is where I'm wayyy more active), which are almost always VERY long and detailed and proofread and edited and polished several times over.
btw, kind of a side note -- I have NEVER sent a single anon in my life, and I have NEVER, anonymously or not, demanded someone give me a personalized just-for-me explanation of their opinions (or any at all). the reason I call this entitlement is because you (most likely) aren't asking out of genuine curiosity or good faith. you (most likely) are asking because you dislike what you think my views are (you are most likely misinformed and think I believe things I do not) and you (most likely) think this is some kind of gotcha rather than the same ignorant, unoriginal, boring ass points that I've read countless times as far back as when I was a transactivist and trans-identifying myself. they've been debunked/responded to by a LOT of other women, too, and I'm very confident you could easily find at least one such response. I'm not holding you to a standard I don't also hold myself to; in fact, that I'm going to give you any degree of actual answer at all is demonstrative of my holding myself to a HIGHER standard. because again, nothing I'm about to say on this topic is just now in this post being born into the universe as a novel thought. or even a novel tumblr post; like I said, you could find the radfem answers to this ask yourself with just a tiny bit of effort - and while radfems are far from a monolith, and I am a frequent vocal dissenter on a variety of radblr hot topics, this isn't even really a matter of opinion. read on to find out why.
Part A - Not answering the questions here per se, but a clarification of terminology that may help you (any reader, not necessarily anon) see my perspective:
The word "cis" has different definitions. It used to mean someone who is not trans, whereas trans referred to sex-dysphoric transitioners, a demographic who now often prefer terms like transsexual or transsex or simply "sex-dysphoric" BECAUSE they don't agree with gender identity ideology (GII) and object to the way GII has been actively hostile to them and erased transsexuality (and thus their identities, needs, beliefs, and experiences as well), similarly to the ways in which GII engages with pretty much everything that isn't complete and total blind allegiance. These include but are far from limited to:
1. Obfuscating people's (especially children's/young adults' - as they are the primary consumers of most GII content by far) understanding of biology, particularly as it pertains to the sexes of human beings and sexual dimorphism, and inserting "gender identity" as a direct (but importantly not synonymous or remotely parallel) replacement for the material and biological reality of sex. Sex, absent patriarchy and the gender construct, is simply a neutral and factual categorization of human beings: sex categorizes human body types according to the two developmental pathways that evolved solely for the purpose of producing one gamete type or the other to enable perpetuation of the species via sexual reproduction. What this statement does NOT imply to anyone reading it with even an ounce of integrity/intellectual honesty: "women are defined by having babies," "infertile/childfree adult female humans are not women," "humans with anomalous sexual development of any variety are not male or female, but rather a 3rd sex or even proof sex is a spectrum," or anything along these lines; I refer to these arguments as intellectually dishonest because they are originally intentional (disinformation -> misinformation) misinterpretations & serve to moralize, dogmatize, and essentially theologize facts of nature.
This obfuscation of biology is committed via a variety of tactics that frequently include outright gaslighting; "gender and sex are different" turned into "sex is actually a spectrum" (it's not - read on to learn why not!) and then outright science denial while gaslighting others as being the unscientific, uneducated, "3rd grade understanding of biology" ones (again, this is simply factually not true*).
*Feel free to request to see a peer-reviewed neuroscience journal publication bearing my name and/or my thesis (original research regarding the overlapping genetics + epigenetics of norepinephrine dysregulation in both dysautonomia and attention deficit disorders) if you are skeptical of my credentials regarding biology. alternatively, feel free to cite your sources and I will provide a free-of-charge peer review service :)
2. Building from #1, the erasure of patriarchal sex-based oppression of women & girls (by definition: human beings of the female sex, adults & children respectively) via aforementioned tactics obfuscating sex biology & human biology in favor of an innate, internal "gender identity" which is extremely poorly defined with the individual "gender identities" themselves left utterly non-delineated. Gender identity ideology is to be taken entirely on pure faith, despite the fact that there is absolutely no evidence to support gender identity as a universal component of human beings/universal human experience. In fact, the existence of absolutely any nonzero quantity of human beings who do not experience gender identity firmly disproves it as universal human experience - and we know not all humans have a gender identity. However, every human being experiences sexual development, be it typical, disordered (DSDs, congenital infertility, etc), or otherwise anomalous; the vast majority experience typical sexual development, and one's sex is entirely clear in the vast majority of atypical cases as well. Female humans are oppressed on the basis of our biological reproductive capabilities; patriarchy desires control over the female sex as a direct product of its desire to control reproduction. Patriarchy created the gender construct to instill and enforce a caste system between the sexes upholding the patriarchal dogma of male supremacy and female inferiority. Similarly, patriarchy created father-gods in order to make the creation of life a male act. Erasure of sex in favor of the gender construct serves male supremacy and cannot ever be anti-patriarchal or feminist. Evidence of sex based oppression abounds offline (frankly, you need look no further than menstruation stigma in all its forms up to and including menstrual huts, but there is infinitely more evidence) and right here on my blog as well; I even have some posts tagged to serve as proof of sex based oppression.
3. Erasing homosexuality via working toward erasure of exclusive same-sex attraction (this is particularly targeted at lesbians, and this is VERY well documented. I have many examples of this in my TRA Receipts tag, including a particularly excellent masterpost containing, in total iirc THOUSANDS of screenshots), once again replacing sex with "gender identity" as if one's orientation being defined as attraction to another human's invisible, internal, and highly individual "gender identity," which not all humans even purport to have in the first place, could possibly make any sense. This is uniquely absurd.
As stated in the 2nd link in #1 on my Pinned, I object to the usage of "cis" for non-trans-identifying people. Why? At the core of it, because the most commonplace definition of "cis"/'cisgender" that I see at this point in time is "having a gender identity that aligns with what was assigned at birth." As stated above, gender identity is not universal, rendering "cisgender" equally as personal and internal of an identity label as "transgender" - and these are not a pure dichotomy by any means. Radical feminism does not grant any degree of objective factual legitimacy to the gender construct; thus, no radical feminist is or can be, by definition, transgender or cisgender (this does not carry over to whether or not radfems can have dysphoria or even be medically transitioned). Radfems are not the only humans without "gender identities," and it is dishonest and disrespectful to force the term/label onto everyone else according to an ideology we/they may not share.
Part B - The Long-Awaited Answer! [I changed my mind since this ended up significantly longer than initially planned so here ya go]
Autogynephilia was coined as a term with a specific definition. That definition is still the same one in use today. That definition explicitly states that only males can qualify. That definition is: "a paraphilia that describes when a man experiences sexual arousal from the thought of himself as a woman" per Google, and "a male's propensity to be sexually aroused by the thought of himself as a female" per Blanchard's original stated intention for the term he created. Wikipedia goes on to add "intending for the term to refer to 'the full gamut of erotically arousing cross-gender behaviors and fantasies.'"
I have many criticisms of Blanchard himself and of the quality of his research methodologies. However, the evidence for the existence of the paraphilia itself is abundant and undeniable given that many males outright refer to themselves as autogynephiles and many have openly discussed their experiences as someone with this paraphilia. What I do not believe is that all trans-identifying males are AGPs, that there is proven legitimacy to the HSTS/AGP dichotomy (even Blanchard himself said not all OSA trans-identifying males are AGPs - just a whole lot of them), or that non-trans-identifying males can't be AGPs - actually I think it's likely that most AGPs don't identify as transgender.
The core of the paraphilia, the source of the arousal, is a product of the patriarchal sex caste system; autogynephiles are aroused by the idea of themselves as women - as they themselves have stated - because of the sexual objectification of femaleness and/or because they're aroused by degradation and humiliation (as is blatantly obviously on brilliant display in the existence of and obsession with "forced feminization" and similar female-degrading sexual concepts), and the AGP male views femaleness and the gender that patriarchy has forcibly ascribed to femaleness ("femininity") as inferior and thus sees his engagement in performing femininity as degrading - which in turn sexually excites him.
One reason some women find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states is the same as when men find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states: self-confidence increases libido and associations can be made between A and B. Where women and men inevitably differ, however, is about the arousal surrounding performing femininity and/or sexual self-objectification. It is not at all unreasonable to speculate that some women can be turned on when they "feel hot" for a reason other than just self-confidence; for one speculative example, it's possible that some women may see herself in the mirror all dressed up in hypersexualized clothing and feel that they've succeeded in mirroring the pornified images and sexually-appealing-to-males beauty expectations. Ultimately, this is self-objectification. It's patriarchy and the male gaze that have forced these associations onto all of society, and hypersexual associations have a tendency of causing sexual arousal in people (duh).
Oh and I've never heard of women being aroused by breastfeeding, only complaining about it being painful asf, but like. Nipples are among the most common and well-documented non-genital erogenous areas so? This seems terribly unlikely to be a common phenomenon, but utterly irrelevant to the existence of autogynephilia regardless lol. If this is a thing, like I said I doubt it's commonplace at all, but even just hypothetically, I'd say it would distinctly fall in line with everything else I say in this answer. Patriarchy and its pornographers have indeed sexualized breastfeeding - there are a concerning number of men who ask their partners NOT TO BREASTFEED their babies - his own children! - because it makes him JEALOUS and even resent the baby. I'm dead serious you can look this up, it happens. So... read on for elaboration.
I neither know nor care precisely what you're referencing in this ask, because the answer remains the same: autogynephilia by definition can only affect males, and males who have a fetish for the idea of themselves as female, be that through imagining themselves Fucked (anatomically female, specifically in a sexually objectified - aka Fucked - manner; the anatomical/biological form of autogynephilia fetishizes the male subject imagining himself as the female Fucked object of pornography) or Feminine (as discussed above) fundamentally are not and cannot be the same as women who are turned on by feeling like they look sexually appealing or by their own natural anatomy or biological functions (which have been violently hypersexualized by patriarchy). This is a form of internalized misogyny; when men do it, it's just misogyny. These are not the same.
26 notes · View notes
jazziejax · 23 hours
Text
PR & Matchmaking
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing- Callum Turner x OC! India Hayes
Summary- The flirtatious banter between two co-stars that are trying to make the most of their PR contract while also wondering if what they’re felling is real or not.
Warnings- none
Author’s Note- I haven’t written anything on here in so long so please be easy one me guys. I just wanted to post something because it’s been a while and I felt like Callum Turner needed more love.
Word Count- 2,131
Tumblr media
Lights were flashing like crazy and the people were going wild as they walked onto the carpet. Tonight was the premiere of Masters of The Air, a drama miniseries on Apple TV that explores the aerial wars of WWII through enlisted men of the Mighty Eighth Air Force.
At first, the red carpet was filled with the men from the show, some posing for the perfect shot while others did interviews to talk about the show. Though all were dapper as the cameras clicked and flashed to capture their noticeable charm. One of the stars, Callum Turner, was in the middle of answering a question after being asked what was his biggest takeaway from a show like this.
“I mean, it’s taught me a lot. More than I knew it would, which is always great. Working with such amazing people has to be the greatest takeaway—.” The sound of his words were barely audible under the screams of the crowd. His face morphed into a shell of shock for only the briefest moment before he chuckled and turned his head to see what that commotion was about. His first assumption was that it was Austin and Barry offering tons of fanservice with their flirtatious banter.
But he couldn’t have been more wrong.
He could hardly see through the flashing lights but he could discern one name through what the photographers were saying.
“India!”
“India, this way!”
Even though he wasn’t facing the camera fully, it still caught the smile that graced his lips at the sound of the woman's name. From another angle, you could see him looking down the carpet at the girl in black, staring at her figure as she posed.
Realizing he’s still on camera and was in the middle of talking, Callum chuckled as she turned back to his interviewer. “Speaking of amazing—.” He laughed along with the guy, gesturing to the woman down the carpet.
“Did you guys and the Angels of War cast get to do any work together? Can we expect to see a crossover?” The man asked before holding his mic out to Callum. Said man pursed his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I can’t say, you have to watch the show and see.” He joked.
Moments later, India was being asked her own set of questions.
“We’ve all seen Angels of War, we all loved it. It was great. But I must know what you think of Masters of the Air.” The woman asked her.
India smiled, prepared for her words to soon come bite her in the ass. “I loved it, it was so amazing and so detailed that you couldn’t help but fall in love it.” India smiled, her southern accent strong on her tongue. “I felt so connected to the characters because of such great acting.” She offered a soft smile. “But it was hard payin’ attention in some scenes because everyone was so sexy.” She laughed along with interviewer.
“Right! I’m glad you said it before I did.” The woman with the mic spoke.
“Yeah, but I’m gonna watch anything with Callum Turner in it.” India winked with a small smirk on her lips. This caused the interviewer to make a sound of excitement, knowing she just got her clip of the week. India just smiled and laughed along, knowing she was working her PR arm a little too much. But she liked riling people up, it’s why she was so loved.
“I have to agree with you, I am the same way with Henry Cavil.” The woman chuckled. Her eyes moved a tad to catch a glimpse of a tall figure dressed in black behind India’s shoulder. “And speaking of Callum Turner.” She beamed.
India turned her torso to see said man not too far from them walking somewhere along the outskirts of the red carpet, a few people straggling behind him. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Callum glanced to his left to see India and the interviewer staring at him, the camera slightly angled his way. A large smile made its way onto his face as he walked closer.
“Callum!” India said excitedly, opening her arms in invitation. His eyes disappeared behind the folds on his cheeks as he moved to embrace the woman once he made it to her. She wrapped her arms his neck while his went to her waist. Her height and hills made it to where her head fit almost perfectly within the nook of his neck. As she moved back slightly to grab a hold of his jaw and place a firm kiss on his cheek, his hands traveled from her waist to her hips. His large hands almost sitting on top of her bottom. Since they weren’t as close to the mic as they were before, the camera couldn’t pick up on any of what was being said.
“Did you play it up before I got here?” India asked through a smile as she drug her hand from his face to his chest.
“Why yes I did, darling.” He beamed down at the girl. “And I can see you are trying to upstage me.” He said before starting to rub his hands up and down the curve of her back. The tips of his middle fingers grazing one another as they traversed the span of her waist. India then made a dramatic sad face, her large eyes never leaving his. “Oh, never that.” She cooed. “I am just trying to get us both paid.” She cheesed before turning around to finish her interview. Callum followed after her, keeping his hand around her waist.
“Sorry about that. Speak of the devil and he shall appear and all that.” India said sarcastically, nodding her head over to the man behind her. The interviewer laughed, looking between the two. “It’s so good to now have you here with us, Callum, how are you?” She asked.
“I’m doing far better now that I’ve seen her.” The man smirked, glancing down at the woman on his arm as his hand moved from her hip to lying flat on her stomach. . India dramatically rolled her eyes at him, moving to place her hand on top of his. “He’s so cheesy.” She said.
“Only for the right price.” His voice said above her head. India burst into a fit of chuckles, angling her head to look up at the man without turning around. They shared a knowing look before going back to looking at the interviewer, who was red in the face from just watching their interactions.
“Well aren’t you two quite the pair!” She exclaimed. “Are we going to be seeing your characters together any time soon? I think it’s time for Loretta to settle down.” She asked before holding out the mic.
“Well, first off, Loretta needs no man!” India said, sassily waving her finger, causing the others to chuckle. “She probably would have liked one in a time such as then but needed one? No thank you.” She joked, although her words had a seemingly undertone due to the topic of her statement. “And secondly, you’ll just have to wait and see. I wouldn’t get my hopes up though.” She shrugged.
“Well, those are all the question I had for you, thank you two so much for being here!” She said excitedly.
“No, thank you for having us.” India said before giving the woman a small hug, Callum’s hand moving to her waist as she moved. She then finished her hug and walked away with Callum on her hip.
“Do you think we’re laying it on thick?” India asked, looking up at him. Callum looked down at her, the lights reflecting of her big eyes. She had a black silk scarf on her head on the carpet, but it was no gone, along with her shades, to show her short cut. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck, playing with the small hairs there. “No, I don’t think so.” He said, his suave demeanor dropping in a second of comfortability with her. “And if so, isn’t that kind of the point?” India didn’t answer his rhetorical question, caught up in the feeling of his hands playing in her short hair.
“We have the same haircut.” She said after a moment of silence, the two just staring at each other. Callum’s blue eyes twinkled in the light as he smiled at her. “Yeah, we do.”
“Although I think mines a little better, maybe I can give you my barbers number?” He finished before walking away from her. India’s mouth dropped but wasn’t for long as she caught up to his long legs and hit him in the arms. “I cannot believe you said that. You know I look way better than you with his haircut.” She sassed, rolling her eyes at the man before walking faster than him. Callum smiled his eyes following her figure as she walked back to the red carpet, where her life long friend, Janelle, was gesturing her over on the carpet with the rest of the Angels of War cast.
India scurried over, her and Janelle standing in the middle with the other girls on the side, all posing for the camera. Callum stood off on the side, looking at them while the lights flashed behind him. His eyes were trained on India as she and Janelle exchanged words before bubbling into laughter.
After a while longer, India looked over and made eye contact with him. They both immediately smiled at each other, eyes showing nothing but pure affection. She then detached one of her arms from Janelle and beckoned him over. Callum slightly shook his head. Seeing his hesitation, her face became serious as she beckoned him over again, although her movements were a little harsher this time. He was about to reject the offer again before his shoulder jerked forward slightly. His glanced back to his Austin gesture his head over to the carpet before walking off and over to his girlfriend Janelle, although no one else knew that piece of information.
He followed after him, his eyes locked on India playfully stern ones, the rest Masters of the Air cast following behind him and Austin. Once he made it to her, her eyes softened as he slipped behind her. While they waited for everyone to settle into their places, she smiled up at him before leaning back a little, her back met his torso. Her head laid on his chest as she looked up at him with a big fake smile. Callum looked down at her, staring into the eyes he thought looked beautiful from any angle. Trapped within her gaze, he leaned down a little, the tip of his large nose brushing against her forehead as he sniffed her. India crunched her eyebrows at him before raising her head to look back at the cameras. She still had her back against him, although you couldn’t tell unless you got a side angle.
“Enough of your flirting.” Austin piped up behind his smile as he glanced over at the pair dressed in all black.
“What, are we outshining the real couple?” Callum asked, smirking over at his friend.
“Outshine?” Austin asked. “Oh, you don’t even wanna know the things I’d do if we were public.” He finished, his grip tightening on Janelle’s waist as he continued to pose for the pictures. Said woman’s face flushed as she laughed and glanced up at him. They looked at each other for the briefest of seconds before going back to their original poses.
“This whole thing is so backwards.” India scoffed with a smirk on her face as the camera flicked to catch the moment between Austin and Janelle. Callum looked down at her and placed his hand on her hip, squeezing her fat as he sensed she was getting irritated. “Oh, but you love it.” He said joked, his deep voice vibrating through the both of them. Although she didn’t look up at him, India smiled at his words. “Yeah…you got me there.” She said, but couldn’t decide whether she was serious or not.
Social media went into a complete frenzy over those two. Clips of their cute moments floating all around the internet, some “fake”, you could say and others more authentic. Stills of Callum staring at India so lovingly were all over her feed, almost sending their girl into a spiral from seeing her own face that much. Compilations of every time they interacted during the premiere had millions of views as everyone speculated what they were. People were talking about the pair for weeks, which is just what their management wanted.
Indiahayes ✓⃝
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
likes by austinbutler, keoghan92, and 567,842 others
indiahayes happy masters of the air day!! go watch the show full of sexy men that kiss! ;)
view 7,627 comments
janellethat no one kissed guys :(
⤷ Indiahayes hush, don’t spoil the show!
callumsnumber1gurl let’s talk about these premiere photos hun!
callumturnerburner you and Callum look soo good together!!
⤷ austinbutlerbutt you are not sneaky at all
austinbutler Angels of War sister! 🤍
⤷ Indiahayes Masters of the Air brother!🖤
anthonyboyle why are you and Nina on the furniture?
⤷ ninasimone because we’re American 🇺🇸 🦅
randosuper3 it’s times like this where I wish Callum had an instagram 😔
lovelyrando you and Callum looked amazing together and I hope what you guys have lasts long
auatinslove are we just not going to talk about Janelle and Austin? What’s going on there???
⤷ indiassuperfan7 adults being adults
29 notes · View notes
nothingenoughao3 · 2 days
Text
Why we wanna transition to Mad Scientist (or, revulsion and queerness in horror)
(Hi, @ash-eats-film! This is the thing I mentioned!)
Horror has a few baseline emotions it tries to inflict on the audience. This has been written about for decades, most famously by Stephen King, but the baseline elements most writers agree on are as follows.
Dread: Anxiety over what is about to happen
Terror: The fear of what is occurring right this second
Revulsion: Being forced to interact directly with what's happening right now
Black comedy: Being tricked into laughing at either the terror or the revulsion
Horror: The trauma response to what just happened
A great example of this can be seen in The Evil Dead II (YT link that doesn't include the full context, but does have the, uh, money shot). There's the dread of realizing there's something in the root cellar; the terror of when the Deadite pops up in the trapdoor; the combined revulsion and black comedy of Ash jumping on the Deadite's skull/the door, popping out its eyeball which shoots into Bobby Joe's mouth, and then the horror of what just went down rolling over Ash and his current companions.
Often, revulsion and black comedy go hand in hand. That's because they're tension relievers. The revolting thing becomes ridiculous, and you laugh at how ridiculous it is. This lets you settle down in the midst of the gore and death, just slightly, just enough to get through it... so the horror can fully set in for you, too, once it's over.
You also, often, question your own stability if you laugh in the middle of a gross-out horror scene: "Am I sick? Is there something wrong with me for laughing at X?" This is even worse if the villain starts laughing--now you're questioning whether you're IDing with the monster. Are you okay? Is something wrong with you?
Revulsion is often framed as the slutty member of the good, proper, morally-upright brigade of horror. We have a name for folks who seek out gross-out horror--they're gore-hounds, a term that is virtually always pejorative when applied to other people. We call certain types of horror "torture porn" or "gore porn", as though it is inherently sleazy and sexual to rely on this specific emotional reaction. (Note that we don't have "black comedy-porn", or "dread hounds", even though a dread hound sounds really fucking cool.)
Not to go off on a huge tangent, but I think the issue with media that overly relies on revulsion is that it's unbalanced, not that it's bad. A movie that's nothing but dread never has any emotional payoff. A movie that's nothing but terror never lets the audience relax back into their seats and, paradoxically, will become boring (imagine two hours of jumpscares).
So forth and so on: all aspects of horror rely on each other to survive. That includes scenes that make you go "Awww, sick" while nervously cackling.
Here's the thing: in previous generations, revulsion was similarly understood to be an essential part of horror, but what led to a revolted reaction was very different.
Lovecraft (boo this man! BOOOOO) understood the power of revulsion, which was the source of a lot of his strangest and most vivid descriptions. It was also the source of some of his most bigoted ideas working into his stories. The undercurrent of "non-WASPs are evil because they are repulsive" is as pervasive in his work as "the universe is incomprehensibly vast". You kind of can't get around that.
But there's another thing Lovecraft did to generate revulsion. He wrote a number of stories where an unhealthy focus on corpses, graveyards, graverobbing, and the like is, indirectly or directly, associated with sexual perversion. 
How many, you may ask? Off the top of my head, there's "The Loved Dead", "In the Vault", "The Disinterment", "Pickman's Model", The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, "The Hound" and "Herbert West: Re-Animator". All of these tales share certain themes, which don't repeat beat-for-beat in each tale but do overlap:
Male character becomes obsessed with dead bodies--whether that's stealing them, having sex with them, desecrating them, or resurrecting them.
He is comfortable around death and the dead to a degree that is unusual, sometimes explicitly stating that he prefers the smells/sights of death to those of life.
Terms like "fiendish", "hellish", "abnormal" and "perverse" are used to describe him; his gaze towards dead bodies or to experiments may be framed as "leering" or "speculative".
He is frequently a twink; often described as being frail, if not noticeably beautiful; he may recall being mocked for being "bookish" or "weak" as a child.
He is superficially charming in a way that gets him by in polite society, but not long-term nor in-depth.
He often ensnares an otherwise "normal" man to share his obsessions, effectively recruiting him as an assistant... until the "normal" guy realizes he's about to go on the chopping block (or, in at least one story, already was on the chopping block).
Their crimes involve a lot of sneaking around late at night, locked doors, whispering so they don't get caught (or they'll be killed), secretiveness, glee at getting away with it, and frequently, sharing the same living space.
The Unrepentant Evil Dude is often killed at the end of his tale in a way that implies vigilante/mob justice is at hand. 
The other may be allowed to live if he's very sorry and frames the whole story as being the fault of the other guy, or he may die too while affirming his horrible demise as just, even if it terrifies him.
(One could make an argument that Wilbur Whateley fits into some of these tropes. It's me I'm one)
If this all sounds very gay, Lovecraft probably would have agreed. He had as dim a view of homosexuality as he did on most other things that were Outside The Norm. In other words, we were supposed to see Richard Upton Pickman with his ghouls and think, "Ah, yes, this is a metaphor for queerness", only we were supposed to be revolted by that revelation.
This same attempt at revulsion can be easily read into Victor Frankenstein, and probably more Mad Scientists than I can name offhand (but feel free to in reblogs). Frankenstein's "crimes against nature" were connected to dead bodies as well, and likewise involved a lot of sneaking around, locked doors, and worry about what would happen were he caught with this naked man-thing he's keeping in his dorm. His crime, as with his parody character Herbert West, is creating life outside the bounds of heterosexual cisgender sex. This was meant to revolt readers' sensibilities as much as the whole cutting-up-corpses-and-stitching-them-back-together thing would.
This is why, if we're being honest, "Re-Animator" and "Bride of Re-Animator" are not necessarily gay… they're homophobic. This might be controversial, but stick with me.
I feel like Gordon and Yuzna were tapping into that old-fashioned Revulsion Handbook, including from the source material, which thematically linked Herbert West with queerness. (I'm using "queer" a lot here, but I would personally include trans-friendly readings under that rubric; I'm using "queer" in the analytical sense and not solely in the identity sense.) This means that, ironically, a lot of what we could point to as queer subtext is actually homophobic text.
This is reinforced by the novelization of the first film, written by a homophobe who got Trumpist brainworms later in life. He wanted to make West repulsive to the reader, and therefore, he tried to make West more gay. And IT WORKED. 
To be clear, I'm not accusing anybody, other than the novelist, of being a homophobe. There's a difference between possessing internalized bigoted beliefs which express themselves in writing, versus utilizing tropes originating in bigotry because That's What's Done Around Here. (I can understand why others might not perceive a meaningful difference.) Like the Cuzco lizards, this queerness-as-villainy is definitely a stupid thing ported in from the source material.
I do think that this is why everybody but Our Queen Barbara Crampton seems embarrassed or nonplussed by all the transfags pestering them about fellatio tapes. It's because they don't get why this thing appeals so much to us. It shouldn't. If anything, they should be canceled for having yet another queer-coded villain, along with a number of other plot choices of questionable taste (I'm looking at you, The Head Scene, and I don't like what I see).
Only, uh, it didn't work out that way long-term, did it?
I thank Cronenberg and venereal horror for this, in part. Brutally queer despite not being explicitly gay, venereal horror is what happens when the characters should be revolted, but aren't. 
This kind of thing is horrifying for crossing the line twice: first by being disgusting, then by having characters respond as though it is exciting, or sexually stimulating, or if nothing else, normal. They are perverse. They leer at the dead and the subjects of their experiments. And the disgusting monsters at the center of these narratives are celebrated. Their twisted sexualities are explored with the same brave frankness other filmmakers give to milquetoast cishet missionary nonsense. Their political views are given life and air, and usually, they're right. Their deaths, if they come at all, are framed as tragedies brought on by society's sick rejection of the flesh their brave experimentation.
Cronenberg's the dude who unironically thinks that Shivers (trigger warning for literally everything) has a happy ending. My man David's got subscriptions where others have issues.
Venereal horror has given us a new metaframework for looking at the repulsive, the monstrous, and the problematic and responding to it… differently.
Now here's another thing: Lovecraft likewise provided a structure for embracing the grotesque and the queer.
Pickman, the Decadent artist, paints photorealistic, enormous portraits of ghouls. Literal flesh-eaters. He is fascinated by them, comfortable with them. "Model" heavily implies that Pickman is a ghoul changeling--switched at birth with a human child. This leans into Lovecraft's ideas about heritability being a major source of horror, of course, and seems run of the mill until you get to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath.
In there, Pickman appears again, but this time as a ghoul. He has cast off his human social shackles and joined the beings he loves, beings who understand him and support him. Kadath is notable in that the ghouls are actually... like... reliable, loyal, and morally good? Carter's opinion pretty much is, "They do eat human corpses and they smell awful, but they're all very nice and want to help me on my quest, so maybe they're not so bad (if not as good as the cat army)".
This feels like Lovecraft acknowledging that his entire approach of linking queerness, death, and revulsion is fundamentally flawed. Once you become familiar with the repulsive, it becomes not-really-that-repulsive-at-all. You can find beauty in it, and amusement, and love. Pickman embracing his ghoulish nature isn't all that different from Seth Brundle's overall lack of revulsion at his body's transformation. And it's not that different from what a lot of transmasculine folks go through, either.
It's not that transmascs, trans men, and/or transfags don't see what West does as crimes against nature. It's that we're all very fucking tired of being accused of crimes against nature. We're tired of not being able to look at socmed without finding accusations that we're disgusting perverts who sneak around behind closed doors to corrupt innocent, promising people to be our lackeys and partners in crime.
Hell, I refer to my wife as "my partner in crime" not because it's a cute way of acknowledging how well and how much we work together both in life and creativity. It's also because we could have been arrested for our relationship when we got together.
We were illegal.
There was a lot of sneaking around and whispering and trying not to get caught and "what if they call the cops on us if we're clocked". Can I tell my friends about this? Will they reject me or rat me out? Where am I safe? Nowhere. Best to lock the door and then check it again to be sure. Best to be very quiet.
Best to act like a graverobber trying to get their grisly wares back home before good, decent, Christian folk see them.
So when I hear "Blasphemy? Before what God?!", I read it as (whether he's ace or aro, gay or achillean, trans man or transmasc or genderfucked) a queer slogan of defiance, instead of a defense of graverobbing, corpse desecration, and non-consensual resurrection.
We're told we and our bodies are repulsive, so being told that Herbert is also repulsive makes him more relatable. Instead of wondering what the hell's wrong with him for shooting up reagent, we all theorize that it's actually T or has similar effects--because we're all told that T is a toxin that will horribly change and disfigure our bodies. He dresses in a three-piece suit for school, and instead of reading him as a stiff and overly-formal little freak, we assume he's layering up because he hasn't found a hoodie he likes yet. 
He cackles at his horrific creations, and instead of saying "What a fucking freak (anguished)", we say "What a fucking freak (affectionate)" and laugh along with him. Who among us hasn't taken apart our Barbies and tried to combine their parts with the Kens? What is a doll, or a human, but a collection of parts to be rearranged? Haven't we also been told we're freaks for rearranging our own parts?
We've already been told by society at large that we are Herbert West. We're just embracing it, in the proud tradition of venereal horror fans who are not revolted when they ought to be, and I think that's delightful.
20 notes · View notes
tys-kitty · 11 hours
Note
Ahhh out of curiosity, what do you think Kit’s favourite weapon is going to be???
Ofc every shadowhunter has there favourite weapons (Cordelia/Emma Cortana, Julian Crossbow, Isabelle her whip) I’m curious what you think Kit’s favourite will be.
Now there’s the obvious and most likely, which is Jame’s gun. Kit would probably love to sling guns and what not, but I feel like some other fun options could beeeee
Katana, Bow & arrow, Butterfly knives (like Cristina! I feel like he would love to just fiddle with them ahah)
Overall, IK in SOBH Tessa and Jem said Kit was living a relatively normal life (going to a kind of regular school) but I also do hope he’s been continuing his training from GOTSM and has been going on some Shadowhunter missions!!!
Hey anon!! :)
Ahhhh I absolutely love this question because I myself have spent hours thinking about this. So I totally agree that Kit will definitely have his own „signature“ weapon.
I mainly seeing him use James‘s gun (*screech*) because I remember him saying at beginning of Lord of Shadows that he would prefer a cool weapon like a gun to a dagger.
However, I also see him using the Herondale dagger that Jace gifted him Queen of Air and Darkness!
And now here‘s my idea (hehehe): Remember Durendal? It‘s the sword that saved Emma when she was stuck in a wall of thorns, trying to reach the the Unseelie tower in QOAAD. It‘s the brother blade to Cortana and it would be so cool if Kit (who is kind of a Carstairs now) would accidentally summon Durendal in TWP when he doesn‘t have any weapons left. And than instead of disappearing, like it did with Emma, it would choose him as it‘s bearer.
But yeah that‘s my take on that! Let me know what you think about it! (Also: I‘m a 100% sure that Kit is still regularly training with Jem ;))
15 notes · View notes
notetaeker · 7 months
Text
I will be honest I am pausing my studyblr posts to post for palestine. My brother has left this world recently (unrelated to the conflict) and when I try to distract myself from it I find myself in a world where almost everyone with any power is supporting the genocide of my fellow people.
81 notes · View notes
tswwwit · 1 year
Note
Wait, does the cheating thing on the bond always works? bcs that would be kinda freaky for R!Dipper like imagine you get pinned down by someone in the corner of a br or smthng and then said person kissed you and proceeded to explode into red mist and you literally have no idea what happened.
Also, would the constellation mark be a "cursed" Mark over the years, like you would give birth to a baby and the doctor says "😟 I am so sorry ma'am,,, I'm afraid your baby has the Cipher Companion mark. ( could also be something equally as science-y like Ursa Major, Constellation Calamation, etc idk)" And you just burst into tears.
Would that mean that dipper would get into a special program(demon wrangling program or smthng, demonologist? Maybe)? Or would the parents hide it away hoping that Bill would never take their child away?
(Sorry this au is just very interesting to me,,,, I hope u get more motivation, keep writing author 💪)
These are all options! The fun part of reincarnation AU being left ambiguous is that technically any of them could happen.
#Answers#Okay but for full transparency#I never really figured out what the 'cheating' consequence is#It's a nebulous concept since I've never had to write it happening#And left ambiguous because neither of these two are into anyone else - and as a writer I like to leave my options open!#I would assume that one of the few things they agreed on when making the contract was that unwelcome advances didn't count as cheating#But that the villain in question would get what was coming to them. Very Violently. They wanna step on a landmine? Let 'em have it#Dipper would have made a frowny face at the violence but agreed. Privately thinking well that's actually a *bonus*#A built-in defense system of sorts#(Something Bill was also thinking but absolutely phrased in the possessive aspect)#Whether or not the Consequences kick in before they meet again - their equivalent of their vow renewal - is up for grabs#Dipper trying to fend off someone only to have them burst into flames and/or blood would feel a terrified sense of relief#Who knows! Maybe Dipper has protection but has a chance for other actions before they meet again!#But the odds of that occurring are very slim. Partly due to his general awkwardness#And distinct hesitation on Dipper's part. Even though he *thinks* he should be enthusiastic#He looks at the person he's in bed with and just. It feels weird. Maybe because he hasn't (in his memory) done this before#Great job Dipper!! Someone in your bed and the best you can do is kinda grimace. Real sexy.#If he does ever manage to get up to something it's not even a tenth of the time he has with his husband#Dipper reincarnations are all very unfortunately attracted as hell to Bill Cipher and they're deeply alarmed by it#I do like the idea of different parental groups finding Dipper's birthmark and having different reactions#Perhaps a random incarnation of one of his family members ends up in charge of him one time#The results would vary *wildly* depending on who it was#On a scale of Mabel Mom to Ford Uncle how are you preparing this person for his invitable enhusbanding#(Stan remains pretty much the same but has a lot of bad marriage advice)#Wow that's a lot of tags even for me#I am going to queue this and sleep
213 notes · View notes
onsomeplanet · 3 days
Text
people accusing Taylor Swift of ableism and also being ableist in the same breath I DO not trust you.
3 notes · View notes
keelanrosa · 12 days
Text
terfs when a study shows literally anything positive about trans people/transitioning: 'hm i think this requires some fact-checking. Were those researchers REALLY unbiased? Because if they were biased this doesn't count and if they weren't knowingly biased they probably were unconsciously biased, woke media affects so much these days. Have there been any other studies on this? Because if there haven't been this could be an outlier and if there have been and they all agree that's a bit odd, why aren't there any outliers, and if there have been and any disagree we really won't know the truth until we very thoroughly analyze them all, will we? Were there enough subjects for a good sample size? Did every single subject involved stay involved through the whole study because if they didn't we should be sure nothing shady was going on resulting in people dropping out. Are we 110% sure all the subjects were fully honest and at no point were embarrassed or afraid to admit they didn't love transitioning to the people in charge of their transition? Are we 110% sure none of the subjects were manipulated into thinking they were happy with their transition? In fact we should double-check what they think with their parents, because if the subjects and their parents disagree it's probably because they've been manipulated but their cis parents have not and are very unbiased. How many autistic subjects were there because if there weren't enough then this doesn't really study the overlap between autistic and trans and if there were too many then we just don't know enough about what causes that overlap to be sure this study really explains being trans and isn't just about being autistic. How many AFAB subjects were there because if there weren't enough this is just another example of prioritizing AMAB people and ignoring the different struggles of girls and women and if there were too many how do we know sexism didn't affect the results. Was the study double-blinded? We all know double-blinded is the most reliable so if this one wasn't that's a point against it even if the thesis literally physically could not be double-blinded. Look i'm not being transphobic, i want what's best for trans people! Really! But as a person who is not trans and therefore objective in a way they cannot possibly be, i just think we should only take into account Good Science here. You want to be following science and not being manipulated or experimented upon by something unscientific, right?'
terfs when they see a study of 45 subjects so old it predates modern criteria for gender dysphoria and basically uses 'idk her parents think she's too butch', run by a guy who practiced conversion therapy, 'confirmed' by a guy who treated the significant portion of subjects who didn't follow up as all desisting, definitely in the category of 'physically cannot double-blind this', completely contradicted by multiple other studies done on actual transgender subjects, but can be kinda cited as evidence against transitioning if you ignore everything else about it: 'oOOH SEE THIS IS WHAT WE'RE TALKIN BOUT. SCIENCE. Just good ol' unbiased thorough analysis. I see absolutely no reason to dig any deeper on this and if you think it's wrong you're the one being unscientific. It's really a shame you've been so thoroughly brainwashed by the trans agenda and can't even accept science when you see it. Maybe now that someone has finally uncovered this long-lost study from 1985, we can make some actual progress on the whole trans problem.'
#science#transphobia#cass review#less 'cass review' generally more 'zucker specifically' because this same problem exists outside cass#have lost count of the number of times i've seen 'well THAT study may have said most trans kids persist but it MUST be wrong'#'there's another study says the exact opposite. that one's right. obviously.'#but cass is why i'm annoyed by it now#normally i don't have a problem with critical observations and questions. yeah check your science! that's good!#there have been some bullshit studies and some bullshit interpretations of good studies! scientific literacy is important!#and normally also am willing to pretend the people pulling reaction 1 on some studies and reaction 2 on others are. not the same group.#but now there's a ton of cass supporters tryna say 'oh the cass review didn't reject or downplay anything for being pro-trans!'#'some studies just weren't given much weight for being poor evidence! not our fault those were all studies with results trans people like!'#…….………….aight explain why zucker's findings are used for the 'percentage of trans kids who don't stay trans' stat instead of anyone else's.#would've been more scientifically accurate to say 'yeah we just don't know.'#'studies have been done but none of them fit our crack criteria sooooo *shrug*'#like COME ON at least PRETEND you're genuinely checking scientific correctness and not looking for excuses to weed out undesirable results#am also mad about zucker in particular because his is possibly the most famous bullshit study#quite bluntly if you're doing trans research and think 'yeah this one seems reasonable' you. are maybe not well-informed enough for the job#there's just no way you genuinely look at the research with an eye toward accurate science regardless of personal bias#and walk away thinking 'hm that zucker fellow seems reasonable. competent scientists will respect that citation.'#that's one or two steps above doing a review of vaccine science and seriously citing wakefield's mmr-causes-autism study#it doesn't matter what the rest of your review says people are gonna have OPINIONS on that bit#and outside anti-vaxxers most of those opinions will be 'are you actually the most qualified for this because ummmm.'#people who agree with everything else will still think someone more competent could've done a much better job#people who disagree with everything else will point to that as proof you don't know shit and why should we listen to you#anyway i'd love a hugeass trans science review with actual fucking standards hmu if you know of one cause this ain't it#……does tumblr still put a limit on how many tags you can include guess me and my tag essay are about to find out.
5 notes · View notes