#July Births

[seagull-astrology]

J895 Electrifying Nikola Tesla

Nikola Tesla, date unknown. Tesla was a Serbian American inventor and engineer . He is credited with discovering and patenting the rotating magnetic field, the basis of most alternating-current machinery Marc Jones has July 10, 1856 in Smiljian Austria-Hungary Empire, now Croatia, but Tesla was not Croatian as widely believed but was an ethnic Serbian and his father was an Eastern Orthodox…

[apricote]

her name is viola and she already hates tummy time and peek-a-boo

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: Ok but, a slime monster that squirms its way into your womb. At first it's small, barely makeing your stomach bulge but it grows and reproduces by fucking you from the inside out and absorbing all your cum. It floods you with aphrodisiacs to make you go get fucked to feed it more. One day all the slimes its created begin to push themselves out, two or three at a time. You realize the first slime is still in your womb, even bigger than before and just as eager to breed again and again

The thought of having something squirm into me and take up residence in my womb is good in the first place, but having it use me to breed…I like that. I like that a lot.

I imagine that I’m panicked at first, looking down at the small lump in my midsection, horrified. I can’t get it out, as much as I’ve tried, and my attempts have only made it squirm in a way that was…uncomfortably fun for me. I decide that there’s really nothing I can do about it, not even as it grows bigger, and as it grows I find myself becoming more and more horny, repeatedly, throughout the day. Luckily, there’s an audience out there for pregnancy sex, so I find plenty of people willing to fuck me silly on their living room couch. None of them seem to notice that the swell in my belly isn’t solid, like a baby would be, but instead sways and jiggles like a liquid - they all just stuff me full, which is what I need.

It never occurred to me why the bulge might be getting bigger - I thought that maybe the slime was growing, at first… but when I feel something open my cervix as a gush of slime rolls down my legs, I’m brought to my knees as a slime squeezes its way out of me. I realize that the first slime had been reproducing the entire time as I feel more trying to flee, and I sit back, spreading my legs apart and watching in fascination as two more baby slimes pour from my cunt. I can’t help but moan softly in pleasure, the sensation of their wet, squirming bodies absolutely wonderful, even though they’re stretching me wider than I’ve ever been stretched. It just keeps going, my midsection deflating as two or three baby slimes slide out of me at a time, turning me from heavily pregnant down to about three months along. I rub my belly, wondering if there are more slimes waiting to come out, but then I feel a wave of needy heat flood my body…and I understand why I’ve been so horny lately. This thing feeds off of me getting fucked, and that’s how it’s been reproducing - and how it’s been growing, and how it will keep growing for as long as it decides to stay.

As I sit there, leftover slime still oozing from my pussy, I wonder how big this thing will get before it decides to leave - if it ever does.

[cowardlycowboys]

I actually gave birth to all my American girl dolls they are my genuine daughters

[a-fuked-up-mess]

nobara has a personality! i was kind of worried when she was introduced that either she might be girlyfied or just introduced as a potential love interest but man, she's fun. gojo: good, alright, she's crazy. absolutely crazy and so bloody dramatic. yuji: a roller coaster of emotions. reminds me kind of of misty from pokemon. other than that, her backstory... i feel it when you have to leave or people leave you, out of circumstances.

oh and how well those three got along together.

plus, i wanna know about the blindfold, nobara questioned it immediately, too.

some scenes i feel like i should mention... nobara about the modeling gig and yuji wearing those glasses and calling her embarrassing. kugisaki's pov. yuji and nobara's reaction to the tokyo outing and the next after finding it's work. yuji's spin in the air by nobara's kick. the straw doll.

p.s. the tokyo skyline at sunset scene. abso-fucking-lutely amazing.

also, i kind of figured out this much: megumi is the quiet kid in last who always gets top marks. nobara is the girl who does sports but is also up for doing other things if she feels like it. yuji is the guy who's friends with everyone but not really and only has one or two friends as it was evident in the first episode. meaning, their personality matches their story. and gojo is the teacher who's worse than the class clown sometimes and thrives in drama.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was guilted into helping my mom give birth in my grandma’s dimly-lit spare bedroom. 

[my-beloved-lakes]

Most US Americans on the 4th of July: celebrating the independence of our country and the birth of our nation.

Me on the 4th of July: "happy birthday Horatio Hornblower!"

[svtskneecaps]

shoutout mike e pac for that fucking banger of an event, i had five povs open and i cried laughing. super fucking fun, super fucking cool, god bless i hope they have an incredible july

[gallimaufryish]

Tina Louise (1934- ) as Julie Grey on Dallas (1978)

[thewales-family]

Ten years ago (on July 23rd 2013), The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge depart The Lindo Wing with their newborn son, Prince George of Cambridge, at St Mary's Hospital in London, England -July 23rd 2023.

[seagull-astrology]

J895 Electrifying Nikola Tesla

Nikola Tesla, date unknown. Tesla was a Serbian American inventor and engineer . He is credited with discovering and patenting the rotating magnetic field, the basis of most alternating-current machinery Marc Jones has July 10, 1856 in Smiljian Austria-Hungary Empire, now Croatia, but Tesla was not Croatian as widely believed but was an ethnic Serbian and his father was an Eastern Orthodox…

[bonhughbon]

“I've given my life to Downton. I was born here, and I hope to die here. I claim no career beyond the nurture of this house and the estate. It is my third parent and my fourth child. Do I care about it? Yes, I do care!”

Happy birth month, Robert Crawley, 7th Earl of Grantham Son, Brother, Husband, Father, and Donk (July ?, 1865)

[hersurvival]

He gave me stars for my birthday,

Bringing me from the depths, to the surface.

As milk cooler siren songs had lured him

Into my wake, off land.

I sing directly into his mouth, lips brushing,

Breathe melding, both drowning.

And he takes a photo of me, a rebirth,

In the hue of pink lights that frame the space.

Naked, laid out on a damp, wrinkled comforter

Like a modern-day Venus Anadyomene.

@nosebleedclub July 9th - Clamshell

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 24 / 31 * OUT IN THE DESERT 」

January—March 1943

From the moment he’d been visited at the university by Oppenheimer with Groves in tow, the latter a looming, intimidating presence towering over him in his uniform compared to the amicable and even friendly disposition of Oppenheimer, he’d felt the cold bite of the Sword of Damocles pressed against his neck, digging deeper and deeper with each day he’d been left in purgatory, waiting.

He feared he’d lose his head before ever hearing the official outcome of his new employment.

When one of his colleagues had approached him about a week and a half after their departure, informing him that he’d received a call from the FBI asking some questions about him, Emmett’s heart stopped then and there and he was absolutely positive he’d seen the moment his head was severed from his neck, rolling down the hallway.

Twenty long seconds later, when his senses had returned to him, he learned that the sensation was just dizziness and he was still firmly intact.

Three weeks later, the hell had ended. To say his official acceptance onto the project was a weight off his shoulders would be an understatement. Emmett breathed a long sigh of relief, nearly giddy with the excitement that he’d come through the process relatively unscathed; his frayed nerves were the only real casualty of his stint in purgatory.

Why the outcome should have been anything other than this, he couldn’t say, but that didn’t stop his mind, already having latched onto the mystery and thrilling scientific intrigue that Oppenheimer had offered, from conjuring up the what-if possibilities while unseen hands manipulated the course of his life. He’d never been in legal trouble, no criminal record, his father was an incredibly prominent and well-respected, if feared and disliked, member of the community, and his academic achievements had been exceptional.

But now it was official and the part that should have been the most daunting brought him the most joy. Two months was more than enough time to wrap up his affairs in California nicely.

His courses at the university would be discontinued and his students would be disseminated out into the other professors’ courses. The small home he’d been provided here would go back to the university and whatever he deemed unimportant to take with him to New Mexico would be discarded. The head of the department wished him well, and after a brief exchange steeped in rumour and hearsay, he’d left, returning home to pack up the last of his things.

How fascinating that an entire life could be stuffed in a couple travel bags.

—

When Emmett returns to Hill Valley, tugging the last twenty-three years of his life up the pathway to the mansion he hadn’t seen in almost five years, it is his mother’s joyful cries that greet him, her hands that all but pull him through the door, and her voice that fills the living room as she sits down, harmonising with the song of time played by his favourite Grandfather Clock.

Emmett, the doctor. Emmett, the scientist. Emmett, her son, doing his part for his country, whatever that meant, because it was secret, secret, secret—all so very secret all he could say was “I can’t talk about it but I have to travel to get there”—and while she looked ten years younger, radiant with motherly pride, his father scoffed and harrumphed, making his opinion known in no uncertain terms.

You would’ve done better for the war as a soldier, not some damned-fool scientist.

‘But at least maybe you’ll have a chance to be useful. Do something good.’

This time, his father’s barbs do not sting. They strike at him from all angles, jabbing at his skin but never piercing, and he lets them fall to the ground at his feet, unwilling to have this argument again, as they did for so many long nights in his youth. With the prospect of unforetold scientific progress right there at his fingertips, he could find it in himself to forgive his father without a fight. He didn’t understand. He wouldn’t let him spoil this.

Science—science was the future. And they would see.

His departure comes as quick as his arrival, his mother asking when he thinks he’ll be back in California.

“Soon,” he says, unable to give her any definite number, pulling at the hope this project is supposed to bring. “When we’ve won the war.”

Alone, he arranges to have himself and his entire life brought to San Francisco, where he’ll meet the train that carries him to the future.

—

San Francisco to Santa Fe.

Emmett spends most of his time in comfortable silence, watching the touches of humanity upon the land slowly and slowly being stripped away. Pavement gives way to dirt and grass and unsullied earth and the towering buildings of the cities sprout leaves and stretch up to the heavens, basking in the afternoon sunlight.

He remembers the itinerary—cryptic instructions written on a packet of papers shoved into his hands and the explicit instructions to allow nobody else to see the contents of this folder. Emmett doesn’t think he could forget it if he tries, burning a hole in the inner pocket of his overcoat, searing his chest even through his clothes.

More often than not, he tries to imagine the stage that will hold what is supposed to be the greatest scientific advancements of the last three centuries—what we’ll be doing here will be the culmination of the last three centuries of physics. Don’t you want to be a part of that?—I want to take on this challenge—only to imagine something even more fantastical than its predecessor every time he tries.

A fully functioning laboratory and city do not just spring up overnight in the middle of the desert, but Oppenheimer had said it would be ready in time, and Emmett found himself almost immediately assured by that, half-convinced that Nature itself would bend to that man’s charm.

Perhaps, Emmett thinks, a flutter in his stomach equal parts dread and excitement, it just might.

What else would require some of the greatest scientific minds to gather in one remote location under the strictest security imaginable?

The possibilities lull him into a dream-filled sleep.

—

They’re waiting for him there, just as they said. Two large uniformed escorts that Emmett easily has several inches on tower over him, usher him into an ordinary old car—grey, unassuming, rather mundane, actually, but when discretion is key—and expertly fit an entire life into the boot.

As if they’ve done this before.

Clement and Rosario, Lieutenant-Commander and Lieutenant, respectively, as he’s come to learn from the intermittent conversation, were the ones assigned to bring him to the site, get him through security, and make sure everything went off without a hitch.

Emmett watches, his face all but pressed against the window in the back as the landscape overrides the thoughts about this project that have been playing on a loop since he first alighted the train back in California. The desert is beautiful, nothing like the views in the city, and maybe he views the wide open area through the tinted lenses of lingering boyish romanticism for such an environment, but there is a rough, rugged beauty to it all in reality that Emmett is pleased to know for himself is not just a result of the films.

He must have said that out loud, because the younger of the two—or the one Emmett assumes is younger, given the softness still present on his face that looks out of place with the gun strapped to his hip—Rosario, says, “Yeah, isn’t it? Beautiful place out here. Shame we went and ruined it.” Before Emmett can ask what that means, he just says, “You’ll see.”

He does see, almost immediately.

This complex—‘Welcome home, Doc,’ Clement jokes in that gruff voice of his—looks more like a prison dropped in the most remote location they could think of, where they’ll work and torture them until they get what they want or die trying. That fence must be ten feet high, topped with barbed wire, and Emmett wonders how many scientists they know of that are athletic enough to even attempt scaling a wall like that.

They preferred to scale theoretical hurdles, not physical.

The cold feeling of dread slithers up his spine. He dismisses it the moment they reach the security checkpoint, telling himself he’s being foolish—the military is involved; everything with them is cloak-and-dagger.

Processing takes an eternity, and Emmett feels a rush of dizziness he can’t quite explain when a thick set of papers are pressed into his hand, followed by a white identification badge that has immortalised his awkwardness in a frozen snapshot of time.

“Housing information’s on the first page. You’ll get used to the layout. Keep that badge with you at all times, Doctor Brown.”

[whatyadrawin]

The July himbo is back with a baddie. He loves to chase you down. He has a strong prey drive, and you will never be able to outrun him.

[countingandsnarkingon]

It’s Baby Month for Nurie Keller, Priscilla Waller and Tiffany Bates. I expect Birth announcements from Nurie and Priscilla but, won’t be the least bit shocked if Baby Bates is an August Baby. I’ll also assume we’ll get a birth announcement Kristen Clark’s miracle baby girl any day now