#darwin said something

[bookofmac]

DEADLOCH SPOILERS

It's so interesting that #FeministAlly Serial Killer Ray is like 'Eddie we can get married and have a kid! We can watch Buffy on the couch together' as if a) that is ANYTHING that Eddie would want if he actually knew her rather than idealisng her and b) That Marriage was the end game for him

Like all his grandstanding about being an ally and such a good guy is undercut by him wanting credit, but also by him STILL buying into to this Essentialist view of men and women: men are always the agressors and women are always the victims, there is no repentance for the men, it is innate and unable to be change.

His paternalistic idea that women can't get out of bad situations by themselves, seen with his shock that Abby DID break up with James on her own. That his happy ending is a wife, kids, and a dog as if that tight nuclear family environment is not partially causal to IPV due to the closed off nature of our lives under the capitalist imperial system in so called australia, as Sharelle says 'All that civility and no Actualy community amoungst you Cunts' Ray was killing Sex Workers because they were 'undeseriable', and he seemed to to see what he did to them as Bad, because Eddie pointing out that murder is murder is what shakes him

It's RadFem logic, and it's facinating to see it in the show

[mad-hunts]

as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.

since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.

but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.

he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞

jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.

julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.

he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞

Eigengrau.

A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.

The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.

"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"

The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?

He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.

… ohh, god…

He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.

A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.

Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.

"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."

He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.

Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.

"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."

The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.

“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”

[hana-no-seiiki]

YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT ME NOT F*CK ME!

yan! school grass (most handsome/perfect guy)/rival x crossdresser! male! reader x yan! friends - part one

tw/cw: mention of abusive parents (but not reader’s) and yandere themes. also your rival has some repressed sexual urges, he really needs to get laid or some head or something-

just read migi and dali and gahd NOW I WANNA WRITE A WHOLE CROSSDRESS /GENDERBENDER BL NOVEL IM IN HORRID ROTTING

Like I imagine this the best with stoic and/or tsun yans the best. You know those types that want to be perfect but only feels perfect when they’re with reader.

ive always loved these tropes as a kid, from mulan to that one tawog episode where darwin fell in love with fem! gumball and like this was even before i knew i wasnt cis but gahd AAAAAAA

also inspired by @moyazaika ‘s rival work. go read it!!

but anyways have the fic, lowercase intentional for first part to differentiate povs.

it was a dare given by your friend group earlier last weekend. wear the girls uniform and a wig for the entire month. it was easy to get the materials necessary for the most part. your mother had several wigs and was more than happy to style her son in feminine clothing. she was just amazing and supportive about your whims like that.

it didn’t take long for you to realize that no one recognized you in your new look.

the day started like many of your other ones at the school, you’d race your rival as the first one in class and whoever wins gets rights to a smug look on their face until the next thing you guys eventually compete on.

but unlike the crestfallen expression you expected — nay wanted — from that stupid pretty boy, you were greeted by what you could only described as complete bafflement.

“what?” despite having a different reaction from what you imagined, you managed to keep a composed appearance. “cat got your tongue?”

“ah. . .”

and that were the only words he said to you the entire day. nothing else. not a single groan of anger whenever you answered everything correctly, he didn’t even attempt at stopping you mid-way or disagree with you answer simply because he wanted to annoy you.

and so you couldn’t help it, as soon as the bell rang signalling lunch time you swiftly turned around to face him.

“are you alright?”

you inquired. not at all worried about his well-being at the slightest. you hated him with all your being after all and you didn’t make an effort to be soft with your tone either.

“h-huh?” he looked dazed. like his head had been in the clouds and you just yanked him down to ground.

your rival never got distracted.

“you—“ you reached out about to smack his face to keep him in check.

“if you’ll excuse me!” he smacked your hand out of the way, screeched at you, and then left in a hurry to who knows where.

nevermind that was definitely him. that silly brat hated it whenever you touched him. he must have just been having issues at home again or something.

Haoyu was trembling — shaking uncontrollably as his breaths turned more shallow by the second. His heart was pumping blood in places of his body where it shouldn’t have been in the middle of school hours. Sweat lined his entire skin and it didn’t help how the bathroom he rushed into had nothing to keep the temperature down.

Who were you?

You sat at his rival’s seat. That nasty kid that always got in his nerves. No one questioned the boy’s absence and he would have asked the teachers on what had happened if you didn’t suddenly take his breath away.

You were, ethereal. Otherworldy even. When he first saw you he was taken away by the way your hair moved in the wind (if only he knew . . .).

Still, he was far too distracted by [Y/N]’s absence to properly let the feeling simmer.

Then, all that went away when you reeled in his mind back at you again at class. You were incredible, capable, intelligent, and oh so perfect. But unlike that stupid child that usually sat in front of him, he did not feel an ounce of envy at all.

If only who could see your eyes as you spoke; the tone of your voice conveyed so much passion that he wanted to see in those beautiful (e/c) orbs.

And his prayers were granted by none other than the goddess that is you,

“Are you alright?”

Your voice? Oh your voice! Haoyu’s heard it already of course, but each new time you spoke it was like a whole new melody, a new piece that immediately turned into his favorite.

His mind was too fried with these thoughts, thoughts that his parents would no doubt beat out of him if they found out.

His feels the parts down there suddenly move. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon. He wasn’t without his hormones after all. But this was the first time it ever reacted that way so strongly, like if he didn’t give it attention himself it’d explode.

“Mmph…”

And for the time in his entire life, Haoyu does something he knew his parents would definitely be disappointed if not livid about. A hand on his mouth, and another in his school uniform’s pants.

lunch time.

you usually spent those studying or preparing for the next class as hanging out with your friends always ended with you being too distracted to do schoolwork but today you had to show up with ‘proof’ that you went through with their dare.

“yiran ? yichen ?”

no response.

you sighed. as usual, the twins were late. what did you expect? those two would be caught dead before they could be early much less found in the library.

and so you spent the entire time reading,

unaware of the crowd that formed around you while you were busy studying.

[palskippah]

Hi!

The other day I read this post by froppygurl talking about the infantilization of Ballister's character and one person commented on how there's nearly no art of Ambrosius in drag.

>And I remembered that I had these from Halloween that I didn't finish on time so I just abandoned them there dhfjdh but posting them for the lack of Ambrosius in drag drawings pipipi

(Plus a few tiny drawings under the cut that I've drawn of Ambrosius either in a dress or in heels)

>By the way, he's dressed as the back-up dancers in this Shakira's music video, since it was a thing this Halloween on TikTok and many guys dressed as 'las de la intuición' 🗣️ (also yeah, he's missing the purple wig jdfkdf he'll put it on later, don't worry)

>These women 🫦:

(Also when I drew him and Ballister I thought of this picture of Darwin 😭 couldn't really imitate it tho, I have a hard time drawing characters in heels djkdf)

>The ladies are wearing small heels, but I said no bro, thigh-length boots for Ambrosius or nothing 🗣️

>Also I sorta had drawn it from memory, and had forgotten that the shirt was untucked but that way you see more waist so I just left it like that 😔

-Also, on TikTok there's this guy (Andrés something something, he's mexican if I'm not mistaken) that tries on very high heels, and in one video he was trying on a pair and doing stuff like jumping, trotting and sweeping the floor sjdks

>Drew this thing like three months ago bc that guy reminds me of Ambrosius:

*Barre* = *Sweeps*

-Also got this thing from a TikTok video based over those Gravity Falls' credits where they marry the goat and Waddle (That one that sings goat and the pig wooo 🗣️🗣️) (Well in Spanish is something like long live love woooo 🗣️🗣️)

-Oh also I had been thinking about manicure, so, headcanon that Ballister bites his nails short, but Ambrosius gets that kind of manicure that makes nails look 'natural' but shiny and very well-cared for 🗣️ (those sort of nails are so pretty) (also sorry, projecting what I do onto Ballister, I don't even clip my nails off, I just bite them when they get too long and burden me. They smooth in their own with the days sjkdsj)

That's it 🧍 my humble contribution wa, hopefully will draw more stuff like this in the future sjkdsd

[azure-cherie]

20 things I've learned as i turn 20

My birthday is in a few days though i like to keep it private I'd like to share some of my thoughts 😁 the things I've learned are mostly based off my experiences

Individuality: one can be a loner in life but that doesn't guarantee a thing about individuality, to learn it one has to be in uncomfortable places and do uncomfortable things only to realise oh that is my thing and i must pursue , though we keep acquiring things from here and there all our lives but it's our zest that makes it ours .

Don't be afraid to move alone, stay alone or do things alone , I'm still working on it and the most important part is people are so busy they don't even care what you are doing, only a pathetic person jokes about you being lonely and doing things on your own

You are watching self help but are you applying it ?? With so much information available one can often get lost in comparison and be confused about thing , to try things is a better way to decide whether we should listen to someone , most of the times people don't even know what they're saying always ask yourself before following someone's advice .

Only give someone something when you are genuinely having an excess in your life , give from what you have extra , or else you'll end up feeling empty and sad because you gave them from your part, for example : there's a friends birthday and you don't have excess to give them a gift just skip the party or give them something hand made like cards , gifts or bake cookies , if they really love you they will appreciate you and only such people are worth having around , same with your time , only make time for others when you have done everything for yourself.

Don't fall into the trap , boundaries are tangible, don't be like " oh I had such a good day my best friend is crying but my boundary is to not care i live my good life" shut up this girl right here was there for you when you needed someone we often lose our way then the people around us need to bring us to the right path , you need people around you remember. Please do this only if the other person does the same for you .

It's okay to not like anyone around you : Darwin said survival of the fittest and we mostly stay in competition with people , so it's okay to not like everyone don't ghost them because you find one thing annoying, they have good things you can look out for , focus on the good .

Give yourself and others the space : don't seem needy or desperate because you had a fight with someone or just a problem with yourself, perspectives come with time , you and they need it if it's meant to be things will be alright

It's okay to lose things , we get tired of things and people and situations and it's fine if it's worth you can fight for it but if you are staying only because of attachment it doesn't take long till it wears off , get ready for the new chapter of your life

It's okay to win , personally I realised I have been afraid of winning and that's why I don't. when you are young you can be programmed to feel like a loser but know that life keeps changing you can win if you believe it .

You don't need to fix everything about you : ahh please please don't give up on good things just because you thing you are yet to heal , no you're good go for it if you feel like it , moreover something's are just not worth it to fix or heal , simple changes can accomodate.

People who love you will accommodate for you and it goes both ways , you have to belive in the power of you and everyone around you and sometimes bend when you need to

What is not worth bending is your values , when you know something is right do what is right regardless , be the right person to yourself by doing what is right to you .

Don't worry about being a good or bad person , it doesn't matter in the long run , a narcissist thinks they're the best and an anxious person thinks they're the worst but we know what's the truth , sometimes in life you have to do bad things but that doesn't make you a bad person , you need to survive in this world things aren't cheap we suffer from capitalism and mind games , do what you need to get a good life for you and your closed ones , we'll talk about the bad deeds in hell and even god will see what you have done and why you have done it , intentions matter .

Keep a balance of experiences and consequences, don't lose out of an experience because you worried about the consequences too much and don't do something that you will regret because you didn't think about the consequences of your actions.

Never tell one person everything, don't vent to everyone , the more you vent the more possibility you have of your personal information getting leaked as a gossip, if you tell different people about different issues you can know when they betray you and dismiss the rumour and cut them off and know that some people are just better at advice in different sectors like you wouldn't ask a logical person who's invested in financial topics about your emotional turmoil it will only disappoint.

Keep your spiritual practices private , don't do something because everyone is , people like to mock , put bad energy or evil eye on perfectly fine things , it's only protection to keep your practices private or anonymous on the internet . Do some spiritual practice because you feel connected to it not because everyone is , don't follow the crowd look within yourself. This applies to deity work , magic or manifestation.

Learn about money and finances and investment, Acquire skills it's only right when you know enough about these things as they create the foundation of your life here, learn about it young so you don't suffer when older . learn everything that you can don't be afraid to be a first timer one day you'll be a pro at it and you'll thank yourself that you were a first timer , try everything you can .

Don't worry about defining yourself, you're constantly changing and that's the beauty of you , you can know who you are and you have to relearn who you are in every era of life .

Be happy for what your parents have done and forgive for what they didn't, this can be hard but don't let them be another obstacle for you to not reach your highest self it's best to forgive and move on , it's also their First time as a person learning about living.

Love yourself unconditionally, last but not the least the most important, forgive yourself, accept the ways you have changed , do things for yourself, practice all 5 love languages on yourself, give yourself the love .

I have learnt so much more and hope you do too , love you so much 🤍

Thanks for reading<33

[bonefall]

I was thinking about your tags, and while I understand the caution, it feels like it would still be a stretch to baseline equate common traits among the clans with eugenics. I know that humans can rly quickly go from everyone has biological differences = there are innate qualities that are "good" and "bad", and there's a quality of fascism in that, but when the clans are fairly isolationist, it seems like it'd be natural for there to be trends among its members.

this is also just me prompting for your thoughts on biology and politics surrounding that, since i appreciate your thoughts on fascism in warriors overall.

I think you're missing a piece in your takeaway that I'm more conscious of-- it's not that I'm wary of population genetics and natural trends; it's that the Clans have an obsession with "blood purity" paired with that.

When you introduce "subspecies" Clans to that, cats who are truly biologically suited to a particular environment, you are inevitably narratively connecting the rhetoric to this worldbuilding fact. Unless you're going to massively overhaul the theme and setting of Warrior Cats, to me it's like looking at xenophobic characters that say "mingling with out-groups is bad" and announcing, "I AM GOING TO GIVE THEM PHRENOLOGY BUT REAL."

Even canon is wise enough to not do this-- Graystripe shows in TPB that it's the oily diet that makes RiverClan's fur so water-resistant. WindClan's lanky legs never get more extreme than a general population trend; enough Clans have skinny warriors that you wouldn't "clock" mixed cats like Jayfeather and his siblings.

But in making those Clan differences MEGA extreme, suddenly, you have taken the irrational social bigotry and turned it into a potentially legitimate practical concern about adeptness in an environment. Not just against an individual, but against that individual's population.

As an example of what I mean, imagine if RiverClan had special, extreme adaptations to living in water. Let's say they're webbed-foot cats who can close their orifices like seals and their coat is twice as thick to keep the water out.

Outcrossing to another Clan means hybrid kittens display the opposite of hybrid vigor-- hybrid depression.

Without webbed feet, other cats are always slower swimmers than their counterparts

Hybrids have thinner fur, making them lose heat in cold water much faster, requiring them to eat more to stay healthy or get sick more often.

They may not have the same muscles to close their orifices, meaning they're more likely to damage their senses by swimming in dirty water.

You can reduce disadvantages with accessibility technology in a more advanced setting like BB, but... they are still born significantly disadvantaged, compared to a ""pure blood"" RiverClan cat.

Doing this also says something you might not have realized you've said at all; Your population is proof of evolutionary pressure. Highly specialized genetics like this (not just trends but HIGHLY specialized) implies there's been something preventing the genetics of other Clans from intermixing with RiverClan.

Which has two implications;

The hypothetical RiverClan cats achieved a positive goal by self-inflicting a selective breeding program onto themselves. (...eugenics. that's eugenics.)

The hypothetical RiverClan environment is so harsh and demanding that it will naturally, swiftly eliminate unfit phenotypes. (The river totally cancels out any secret outcrossing)

(as a side note, ppl tend to misunderstand evolution. Darwin wasn't totally right with "survival of the fittest," I prefer Bill Nye's description of "survival of the good enough." But that's a topic for another time)

Either way, I find those implications DEEPLY unfitting for BB. This is a project which has major themes of exploring bigotry, showcasing its irrationality and digging into how it's perpetuated and exploited in spite of that.

I think BB's themes have a better clarity of purpose if the physical differences between Clans are kept subtle. Never more extreme than what you'd see between ethnic groups-- with frequent reminders about how culture, environment, and politics shape behaviors more than genetics do.

Don't misunderstand me-- I'm not saying that every setting with physical differences between races/sapient species is doomed to this. I actually have good things to say about certain artworks that lean into it (Steven Universe, Beastars, Oren's Forge). I'm saying this specifically about WC and my work within that context.

If you're curious though, I actually have a loose set of "rules" in my head to try and keep my Clans' population differences within my own critiques! I've given a lot more thought to this than I've shared.

There are no "unique" Clan mutations, any trait could appear within any hypothetical kitten.

It's a matter of prevalence. ThunderClan is like 80% Sweetness Tolerant and the other clans are between like 15% - 60%. It's not a sign your mate cheated on you if your kitten likes honey.

But it is something that an accusation can be based on, if your mate is insecure or the Clan's politics are going sour. A "pedigree" RiverClan cat could still have a mane, and it can get used against them.

Some traits do help or hinder ability slightly (ex; thick tails making RiverClan cats better at steering in water), but typically not significantly. I Just Keep It Reasonable.

Most importantly, I just make an effort to have most traits be based on social behavior. Reflect enough and eventually you sorta train your brain to think differently. As a bonus, it helps with cultural worldbuilding.

Related: If you found this insightful, I also dove into fascism and TigerClan in a way that's relevant to this.

[thegoldencontracts]

hello!! this is my first request!! can u write azul saving reader from drowning and gets angry at them out of worry? not realizing that he confessed to them just now until it sinks in?

Hiii sorry this took so long! This concept is sooo good, hope I managed to do it justice aughhh

Because-!

Summary: Azul saves you after you fall into the Octavinelle pool. You're just hoping he doesn't expect repayment- Wait, why is he so upset?

Notes: There isn't much focus on the feeling of drowning, but there's still some. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Also, credit for the divider here!

If a Darwin award existed, you were really one of the prime candidates to win it, it seemed.

You'd fallen into a pool. Actually, that was fairly normal. There was a very real risk of people falling into pools, that was why most public pools hired life-guards.

Octavinelle's pool, however, didn't abide by that policy, and so there was no one around as you'd fallen in. The panic was setting in at a rapid pace.

You couldn't breathe. Water was filling up your lungs, and you couldn't even cry out for help, and you couldn't breathe-

A splash. Someone was in the pool. Were they- here to save you?

They were approaching - closer, and closer. But you didn't get to see whether they saved you or not, because before they could even get near you, your vision went dark.

You woke up. That was good. Were you- in the afterlife or something? The silver-haired boy above you did seem angelically pretty, after all...

"You're awake."

You felt your face heat up. Nevermind. You were very much alive, and that guy you just called pretty was, in fact, Azul Ashengrotto, Octavinelle Housewarden, your crush, and maybe your friend. The jury was still out on that one. Azul never really admitted his friendships, but he gave you free stuff, so that was probably a good sign.

Would this be free, though? Even with Azul's "no free lunch" mentality, this seemed a bit too far.

"So," you started, voice hoarse. "Do you, uh, need something."

Azul looked at you for a second, expression all too void of emotion. Then, he spoke.

"What exactly were you thinking?" He demanded. "Approaching the pool in spite of your lack of ability to swim is the height of foolishness! If you truly wanted to come here, you should've simply asked me to accompany you!"

An uncharacteristically enraged Azul yelling at you was definitely- something to wake up to.

"I almost died- dude-"

"Precisely!" Azul said, eyes still burning with rage. "Were I not there, you wouldn't-"

He sighed.

"Don't do something so foolish again."

That was it? Azul Ashengrotto, not even expecting repayment? Weird.

"Listen," you said. "It's awesome that you care, but I can handle myself. I've learned my lesson."

"You quite nearly died," Azul said through grit teeth. "What if that happens once more, without me there? You'd die! And even if it weren't for my love for you, I simply cannot have-"

He cut himself off at the realization of what he'd just said. You took a second to process it too. Azul- liked you?

The universe had taken pity on you! Your crush liked you back!

"I- er, forgive me," he said, turning away his head in shame. "I suppose I got a tad carried away. Please, just allow me to accompany you the next time you come here."

"Why don't you also accompany me on a date sometime?" You said, before you could stop yourself. Azul looked at you in shock for a second, before clearing his throat.

"Are you being serious about this invitation?"

You nodded.

"Dead serious."

"Then," he said. "I'd love to accompany you."

And though you could sense he still had a lot more chastising to you, that you hadn't yet escaped scolding, nor the physical consequences of almost drowning, you couldn't help but feel oddly warm inside.

It seemed you'd found a silver lining here.

[piastrispastries]

Ok for the wrapped writing thing, 78? 👀

ok so this got away from me a little bit but song number 78 on my wrapped was fallout by catfish and the bottlemen! send me an ask with a number from 1-100 and i'll write a drabble based on what song it is on my spotify wrapped!

word count: 1356

In Year 6, Oscar had skipped school two days in a row. 

There’d been a book report on Charles Darwin due, and he hadn’t written a single word. Every time he thought about walking into his classroom that morning and explaining himself to Ms. Andersen, he felt stomach-churningly sick. She'd never been anything less than understanding about him missing a day for this or that karting race, but when he thought out their imaginary conversation about the missing assignment, he felt the urge to run as far away as he could. 

So on the day that the book report was due, he'd gotten up and left the house to walk to school just like he did every day, and when he'd reached the school gates, he'd just kept walking. 

He'd taken a left onto the street where one of the boys he played cricket with in the park lived, then a right onto the street with the park, then around the park a few times, then another right, and so on, until he'd figured enough time had passed that his mom had left for work and he could go back home. 

He kept telling himself that he'd write the report as soon as he got home, so that he could go into school the next day with it in hand, like nothing had happened, but when he sat himself down at the kitchen table to do it, he'd felt like the walls were closing in around him. So the next day, he'd done the same thing, walking straight past the school gates, and hoping that the repetitive motion of his steps would eventually drown out the rushing sounds in his head. 

The jig was up when his mum had gotten home from work that day, since Ms. Andersen had called her to ask if he was okay, but sometimes he wonders how long he could have kept going with that routine, whether he’d have kept skipping school for weeks on end just to avoid a conversation about a book report. Swiping away a call from Carlos for the third time that day, he thinks he definitely could have. 

He knows, objectively, that he’s overreacting to the interview quote. Carlos was just being Carlos—loyal, supportive, and giving the expected answer to avoid creating any distracting drama. He’d been asked a question about Lando, and naturally, he'd backed his friend. Oscar probably could have guessed how he’d answer, word for word. But hearing Carlos casually, without hesitation, say that he'd "back Lando to win out" in a potential WDC fight between him and Oscar had done something to him. Something that felt like a punch to the stomach, the kind that didn't knock the air out of you immediately but lingered, the pain gnawing at your insides.

Oscar had tried to brush it off, but the words kept echoing in his mind: I’d back Lando. Of course Carlos would. They were friends. Close ones. And they’d been friends for much longer than Oscar and Carlos had been sneaking around. 

Their relationship wasn’t anything serious—just a handful of late-night texts, a few stolen moments after races, something casual that neither of them had ever bothered to define. Oscar had never asked Carlos for more; the idea of it made his stomach twist—of asking for something that Carlos probably didn’t even want. So he let the feelings sit in the back corner of his mind, and went along with the easy banter and late-night conversations that never ventured too far into anything serious.

And he’s been good at acting casual so far. But it was something about the way Carlos had said it, so easily and so matter-of-fact. The words had lodged themselves into the spaces between Oscar’s ribs, poking at the fleshy parts of him any time he moved around. The feeling of being second-best, of being invisible under the bright lights of Lando’s shadow, crept up on him. The familiar, bitter taste of being overlooked.

He could practically hear Carlos’s voice from the interview now, the words ringing louder than they ever had in the sterile media room: "I’d back Lando to win out in that fight. He’s always had an edge in race craft, and I know he’s got more fight in him than he did last year."

Oscar doesn’t even bother swiping away when Carlos calls again, the screen lighting up with his name, and instead leans back in his chair as it keeps ringing. He remembers the feeling of walking past the school all those years ago, avoiding the thing that kept tying his stomach in knots. The moment where he had to face the fact that he wasn’t enough to make it all work on his own.

And he’s doing the same thing now, but his mum isn’t here to force him to write the report and apologize to his teacher.

He can almost hear the conversation that would happen if he picked up the phone. The gentle reassurance from Carlos, the apologetic tone he'd adopt, even though Oscar knows he’s probably slightly bewildered by the scale of Oscar’s reaction. But the truth is, Oscar can’t quite shake the sense that Carlos has made up his mind. That the decision of who to prioritize has already been made, and there’s nothing he can do to change it.

It’s a weird thing, this sense of never being first choice, not deserving preferential pitstop strategy or a moment of hesitation before being voted against, no matter how hard you try.

With a long breath, Oscar finally answers the call, the tension in his chest thick. "Yeah?"

Carlos's voice is already apologetic, soft, like he’s walking on eggshells. "Oscar, listen, I didn’t mean—"

"I know," Oscar interrupts, thumbing at a hangnail on his middle finger. "I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Carlos, but it's hard not to hear what you said and feel like... well, like I don’t matter as much as Lando does."

There’s a long silence on the other end. And then, quieter than usual, Carlos speaks. "You do matter, Oscar. You matter to me."

Oscar leans forward, screwing his eyes shut. "But did you only say what you did because it was asked in the media conference? Would you have answered differently if Caco or Teto asked you?"

The question hangs in the air, thick and uncomfortable. He can feel the weight of it pressing down on both of them. But it’s not an answer he’s really looking for. Not anymore. It’s just that he can’t help but ask, can't stop himself from wondering where he fits in the narrative that’s being built around the three of them.

But Carlos doesn’t answer right away. Instead, there’s a pause, and then the quiet admission. "I didn’t think about it like that. I’ll make it right. I’ll clear things up with the press—"

"I don’t need you to clear anything up," Oscar interrupts again, a bit harsher this time. "I just... I don’t want to feel like I’m the second choice. Like I’m the one you can overlook and then apologize to."

The line goes silent for a beat too long, and Oscar wonders if this is where it all falls apart. If Carlos is going to throw in the towel, decide that he has enough going on without Oscar further complicating his life.

But then Carlos’s voice breaks through, softer now. "You’re not a second choice, Oscar. You’re not. It’s just… it’s complicated sometimes. With Lando and me, with everything. But you’re not a second choice. At all."

Oscar exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders loosening, even though he knows things aren’t magically fixed with just those words. But maybe, for now, it’s enough to hear that. Maybe it’s enough just to know Carlos doesn’t mean to hurt him—even if it still stings.

"I get it," Oscar says finally, his voice quiet. "I get it." For the first time in days, the ache in his chest doesn’t feel so sharp. He can live with that.

"Come by my room later?" Oscar asks, his voice steady now.

"Yeah," Carlos replies. "I’ll be there."

[uhhlifeig]

Slasher - October 15 - word count: 659 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but somehow, they’d all ended up sitting on the worn, sagging couch in Sirius’s flat, a questionable horror movie blaring from the TV. 

James was halfway through explaining his newest strategy for the next international Quidditch match to Lily (who, to her credit, looked like she was trying to care).

On the other end of the couch, Regulus was squished between Barty and Evan, who were bickering over whether or not cheap Slasher-esque movies were an acceptable form of cinema.

“They’re all just mindless gore,” Evan argued, leaning over Regulus, who looked like he regretted his life choices. “There’s no substance, no actual plot.”

“There’s a plot! You’re just not cultured enough to understand the subtle nuances,” Barty shot back.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Subtle nuances? Of what? A masked guy running around with a chainsaw?”

“Exactly,” Barty said.

“Right. Because nothing screams ‘nuance’ like blood splatters and screaming teenagers.”

“You just don’t get it, Moony,” Sirius chimed in, smirking. “The horror genre is a refined art form, perfectly balancing suspense, tension, and, of course, a healthy dose of irrational decision-making.”

Remus gave him a deadpan look. “Right. Because when I think of the word ‘refined,’ I definitely think of chainsaws and hockey masks.”

Sirius grinned. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“Really?” Regulus muttered a beat later, glaring at the screen. “Of all the directions she could’ve gone, she chooses to run toward the guy with a chainsaw?”

“Darwinism at its finest,” Remus said dryly.

“Just once,” James piped up, “I’d like to see someone in one of these movies actually do something smart. You know, like, not investigate the creepy noise in the basement?”

Lily nodded. “Or, you know, call the police? Why is that never an option?”

“Because,” the dog animagus said, “where’s the fun in that? It’s more entertaining to watch them make terrible decisions.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You would think that.”

The movie continued to spiral into absurdity, with the remaining characters making one terrible decision after another. 

Evan, at some point, had fallen asleep on Regulus’s shoulder, and Barty looked about three seconds away from jumping into the screen to show the villain how to kill people properly.

And then the power went out.

The TV screen went dark, and the room was plunged into pitch blackness. Remus felt Sirius tense beside him.

“Oh, great,” James said. “I can’t wait for the part where we all die horribly in our own horror film. I’d, uh, get jumped and forget my wand somewhere- the couch, maybe- speaking of, where are our wands? And, um, Sirius would fall out of an open window because he ran into it and the curtains were down, and, er, Regulus, you’d drown, because you still can’t swim-”

“Potter, shut up,” Regulus grumbled. “No one’s dying.”

“Not yet,” Barty added helpfully.

“Can you not?”

Sirius shifted beside Remus, and even in the dark, Remus could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 

“Y’know, Moons, this is exactly how those movies start.”

“You are not the final person, Sirius. Don’t even try.”

Sirius gasped dramatically. “How dare you!”

Lily snorted. “Sirius, no offense, but you’d be the first one dead.”

“Excuse me? I’d like to think I have at least enough survival skills to outlast James.”

“True, true. He’d be the first one dead.”

“Oi! I have excellent survival instincts, Lils!”

“Like the time you tried to sneak into Snape’s room and ended up falling into a pit of garbage?” Remus asked innocently.

“That was one time!”

“And the time you set the kitchen on fire while boiling water?”

James crossed his arms, pouting. “I’ve improved since then.”

Lily patted his shoulder. “Sure you have, dear.”

The lights flickered back on, revealing Peter holding a whole lot of wands. 

“Why’d you guys all leave your wands in the kitchen? Idiots. Oh, and Remus, how you you use the spinny-wavey thingy?”

[leviscolwill]

moonlight, sunrise

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: after trent's first time captaining his boyhood club, you can't help showing him your appreciation [wc: ~700]

contents: tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, captain trent ‼️, food mention, not proofread yet 🏃‍♀️

note: needed to write a little something for my boy <3

now playing: moonlight sunrise by twice (ready to be)

you were absolutely stoked when darwin scored a late goal for your team, winning newcastle 2-1. during all the game, your thoughts went to your boyfriend, who captained his team after van dijk got red carded. you knew how much his boyhood club meant to him and how much he adored it, so being vice captain was a huge honour. after the final whistle, you grabbed your phone to send him a quick text; "congrats on today's win my captain !! can't wait to celebrate with you tonight xx". you knew he wouldn't answer right away so you got up to prepare trent's surprise.

you put on your favourite playlist, and searched for everything you needed to make some pizzas, from the dough to the toppings, you had everything you needed. trent loved your pizzas, you weren't the best cook around but it was the one dish you could never miss.

you tried shaping the dough into little hearts, colouring them with bright red tomato sauce. your addiction to 'good pizza great pizza' helped you create the best pizza with trent's favourite toppings.

while you were finishing the last couple mini pizzas, you felt someone hug you from behind.

"they look so good, you really outdone yourself with these." you heard trent's voice in your ears.

"no ! they were supposed to be a surprise... please pretend you never saw this." you say in a disappointed tone, you must have been too distracted by your music to hear trent coming home.

"alright, alright. can i help you with the last one at least ?"

"of course not, you can't help making your own gift." you refused, but trent wouldn't take no for an answer. he placed the toppings to form a smiley face on the heart pizza. you snapped a quick picture of your masterpiece before putting it in the oven.

your boyfriend set up the table while you lit up some scented candles. these kinds of evenings were your favourites. the evenings when your boyfriend's was just yours, not the media's or the fans'. just trent, just yours.

trent was taken aback when you hugged his back, resting your head on his shoulder.

"you know i'm proud of you, right ? you did great today mister liverpool captain."

"i think you might have mentioned that a couple of times. thank you for believing in me pretty girl." he pressed a kiss on your lips before getting the pizzas out of the oven.

you ate your pizzas in front of a movie trent picked, of course, under the covers you brought to your living room, intently listing to each other's comments as silly as they might have been.

quickly enough, you fell asleep and felt trent's arms carrying you to your shared bedroom.

"where are we going ?" you asked him in a sleepy voice, even though you already knew the answer.

"to bed ratatouille."

"don't compare me to a rat." you huffed in disapproval of his newfound nickname for you.

"you're the rat that makes the best pizzas in the whole world."

you both cuddled up under your covers, and you felt tiredness get the best of you, trent must have felt it as well.

"goodnight, i love you." he said pressing a kiss on your cheek, after turning off the lights.

"i love you too, sleep well my captain."

trent's light strokes on your arm and his slow breathing lulled you to sleep swiftly. these were really your favourite nights, in the company of your favourite boy.

[jeankirstein4ever]

Like a Tattoo - Modern! Connie S.

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

A/N : Match up for @marsthegoblin Ohmygod I love these so much, also requests are open and I missed writing so much

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

You and Connie met at a thrift shop in downtown Shiganshina, you had both been picking through some women’s jeans , and in a questionably motivated act of kindness he had conceded the one pair of Carharts, “you go ahead and take ‘em baby” with a big smirk plastered across his face.

He had asked for your insta, and with a bit of convincing you had let him take you on a date.

After the first date it didn’t take much convincing to stay around, constant thrift store trips and house parties at Jeans and Erens, “no fucking way you’re with her, Connie, did he put you up to something - blink twice if your in danger.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, ‘ren. You like me right baby, you promise?”

Connie loves to smoke, even if you don't, he’ll role up a couple and lay in your lap, letting you trace your fingers across his tattoos, the feeling of your hands over the raised skin sending chills down his spine.

“Thank you baby, love when you do that.”

His head positioned so perfectly in between your thighs, the air thick with smoke, making you question if you're all that sober; tilting his head to meet your eyes directly, eyes red and a little wider than usual.

He licks his lips a little, glossy and parted; he pushes himself up by his elbows to your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip, “love you so damn much.”

After a couple months he’ll go with you to get matching tattoos; local shop he had become a sort of regular at, a heart with his initial on your hip and the same with your initial on his hip.

He’ll take you home, and make sure you take good care of it, “here baby, let’s get some disinfectant on that.” He pushes you up on the counter, tugging the waist of your jeans down, to apply the cleansing gel to your skin.

Its cool on your skin, easing the incessant itching of an open wound, “feel better? I know its uncomfortable but you did so good.”

He finishes cleaning the tattoo, leaving his hand on your hip, he leans into you, his breathe running across your neck and ear “I like knowing whoever else fucks you has to see me on you, now” its said as a joke - partially, he laughs as he says it atleast, nipping at your ear.

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

Cleopatra - Frank Ocean

BURN - ¥$, Kanye West

How Much is Weed - Dominic Fike

Rebirth of Slick - Digable Planets

TEMPTATION - Joey Bada$$

Time To Shine - 408 Darwin

Jezebel - Sade

Some - Steve Lacy

Self - Cleo Sol

Paper Soldier - Brent Faiyaz

Agora Hills - Doja Cat

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Fairytales

AM Shine: Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Pals, I call this tale the return of the fairies Shine: In our last episode, our heroine had just escaped the forest where the evil fairies lived Shine: but turns out Shine: the evil fairies aren't just in the forest Shine: now they're everywhere!

Shine: so our heroine is in hiding Shine: with the yellow one King: oh, the parrot? Shine: Shine: that's what i said, didn't i? King: yeah i was just confirming that Shine: what else COULD "the yellow one" possibly refer to, steve?

King: i thought that the parrot was named Darwin Shine: that's only in the film adaptation!! Shine: that's not canon! Shine: in the book, it's the yellow one!

Shine: you can't go by the film version! Shine: there were major creative differences with Ishana Night Shyamalan! King: oh really? like what? Shine: Shine: mostly just the parrot's name, actually Shine: i mean that was pretty much it, i guess

Shine: our heroine is hiding out in a little village Shine: if a bird looked down at the village, it would look like a big spider web Shine: with the church at the center and the town priest a big spider Barker: damn this bird capable of some abstract thinking Shine: SHUT UP it's called a metaphor!

Shine: the fairies look like big weird misshapen monsters with scary long limbs Arthur Conan Doyle: i'm gonna stop you right there Doyle: that's clearly not true, everyone knows that fairies look like sweet little ladies with gossamer wings Doyle: they wear acorn hats and drink morning dew Shine: Doyle: I've done a lot of research Doyle: i'm something of an expert on fairies, if i do say so myself

Doyle: look, i have dedicated my life to proving the existence of Doyle: [flailing wildly] FAIRY GOD PARENTS Doyle: so i think i know a little bit about what to look for Shine: Doyle: fairies are real, by the way

Doyle: fairies are real Doyle: and I've got the proof right here Doyle: look at this cookie box Doyle: or as we call it in Britain Doyle: a biscuit tin

Doyle: the pictures on this tin are incontrovertible proof that fairies exist Doyle: also, this ancient document Doyle: novelty vinyl "Spring Morning shindig," by Ed Twilley and the Creepers (1952, Goon Records) Doyle: proves that, yes, fairies have parties

Doyle: the important take-away here is that fairies are so beautiful and amazing Doyle: that once you see one Doyle: you will never be satisfied by a mortal woman Shine: see, that's how you get changelings Shine: do you want changelings???

Shine: here's the thing Shine: fairies can change form Doyle: no they can't Doyle: Arthur tell him they can't Arthur Machen: actually i think he might be right Doyle: shit Doyle: this changes everything!

Arthur Conan Doyle: [into tape recorder] note to self Doyle: fairies can change shape Doyle: at this moment ANYONE could be a fairy Doyle: even Doyle: [turns to audience] YOU!?!?!?!?

Shine: now evil fairies are loose Shine: and let me tell you Shine: this WON'T be no spring morning shindig Doyle: b-b-but the ancient documents! Shine: the ancient documents were wrong!! Doyle: noooooo!

Koontz: but the parrot's gonna be ok right?! Shine: yes the yellow one's fine, dean Koontz: good cuz i was worried for a minute there Koontz: i was worried something might happen to Darwin Shine: IT'S THE YELLOW ONE!!!!

[slime-sandwhich-nom]

You guys gotta hear me out.

like.

Do you know how SIMILAR Gumball and Nicole are compared to the rest?

Like it's such a cool detail how gumball and Nicole are two distinct characters who have their fun personality and personal depth but are so similar.

Like you can tell that these two are related.

Like seriously, in earlier seasons gumball was more similar to Richard, actually.

He was a sweetheart, naive and always trying to help people because he wanted to. He was very easy to bully and make fun of because he was naive and "stupid" like his father. the only difference is that Richard never stands up for himself, gumball doesn't. There were several times where gumball gets made fun of and he just screams at them to defend himself because there's no Nicole to defend him (and when he doesn't stand up for himself, penny does.)

Which is a trait he most definitely got from Nicole.

But later on? When he gets his iconic sarcastic personality? He's so much like Nicole.

there were many scenes in some episodes where he just is a tiny version of Nicole, it's actually kinda wholesome. Especially if you count that he looks up to her ( thinks she's cool) so he subconsciously mimics her (like children do, in the end. Especially because he didn't have an older sibling to look up to, unlike Darwin and Anais do.)

And like.

I do have some examples.

> This one is my favorite honestly, when gumball had to make everything perfect because penny was coming over, so he took over and asked (ordered) everyone to be perfect.

This resulted in everyone making more chaos than usual because of how pressured they were (and low-key looked mildly scared whenever gumball came over and screamed at them that they had to do better, and faster, because everything has to be perfect.)

there was a point where he literally picked up trash the same size as him and threw it at his mother (because she had to take out the trash) and ended up throwing her and the trash out without much difficulty.

> Gumball variously shapeshifting into some weird monster things whenever he was slightly pissy or annoyed.

This is one example

> just like Nicole, he too can be super athletic. Remember when rob kidnapped Barbara and then threw an entire bus at gumball? Gumball literally did those cool action scenes where he jumps through the bus and walks away like nothing.

Something his mother does a lot

> Both gumball and Nicole have some immense strength, dude. Despite one never actually exercising for it and the other who didn't do any kind of exercise is years.

Just this whole ep where gumball is a sore loser.

> Him when he was younger.

Yes he was hyperactive, but at the same time he managed to do shit only his mother could

(Being super fast, walking on walls and CEILINGS and having the strength to break through doors too((when he was trying to stop Richard from flushing Darwin.)))

Yeah there's probably more but I'm too lazy to look them up.

ANYWAY.

I NEED someone to write idk. A fic about maybe Nicole slowly figuring out (by these points I just said) that gumball is more similar to her than she imaged, and it can either go into something wholesome, or angst. Your choice

[batcavescolony]

Fox Xmen universe

Charles: Darwin, it's been too long.

Darwin: yeah, my powers have been randomly teleporting me away from you guys since we were attacked.

Charles: yes, that is strange but it seems to be ok now?

Darwin: I guess, I ran into a guy with a red suit and swords-

Charles: Deadpool?

Darwin: sure? He said something about how they're not making moves for the X-Men anymore? And how you can't die if they think you're already dead? Weird guy, then he said Peter's sister had a similar problem but that was licensing?

Charles: don't think too much about what he says, we don't. Anyways how have you been?

[communist-manifesto-daily]

Socialism: Utopian and Scientific - Part 24

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To the metaphysician, things and their mental reflexes, ideas, are isolated, are to be considered one after the other and apart from each other, are objects of investigation fixed, rigid, given once for all. He thinks in absolutely irreconcilable antitheses. His communication is 'yea, yea; nay, nay'; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil." For him, a thing either exists or does not exist; a thing cannot at the same time be itself and something else. Positive and negative absolutely exclude one another; cause and effect stand in a rigid antithesis, one to the other.

At first sight, this mode of thinking seems to us very luminous, because it is that of so-called sound commonsense. Only sound commonsense, respectable fellow that he is, in the homely realm of his own four walls, has very wonderful adventures directly he ventures out into the wide world of research. And the metaphysical mode of thought, justifiable and necessary as it is in a number of domains whose extent varies according to the nature of the particular object of investigation, sooner or later reaches a limit, beyond which it becomes one-sided, restricted, abstract, lost in insoluble contradictions. In the contemplation of individual things, it forgets the connection between them; in the contemplation of their existence, it forgets the beginning and end of that existence; of their repose, it forgets their motion. It cannot see the woods for the trees.

For everyday purposes, we know and can say, e.g., whether an animal is alive or not. But, upon closer inquiry, we find that his is, in many cases, a very complex question, as the jurists know very well. They have cudgelled their brains in vain to discover a rational limit beyond which the killing of the child in its mother's womb is murder. It is just as impossible to determine absolutely the moment of death, for physiology proves that death is not an instantaneous, momentary phenomenon, but a very protracted process.

In like manner, every organized being is every moment the same and not the same; every moment, it assimilates matter supplied from without, and gets rid of other matter; every moment, some cells of its body die and others build themselves anew; in a longer or shorter time, the matter of its body is completely renewed, and is replaced by other molecules of matter, so that every organized being is always itself, and yet something other than itself.

Further, we find upon closer investigation that the two poles of an antithesis, positive and negative, e.g., are as inseparable as they are opposed, and that despite all their opposition, they mutually interpenetrate. And we find, in like manner, that cause and effect are conceptions which only hold good in their application to individual cases; but as soon as we consider the individual cases in their general connection with the universe as a whole, they run into each other, and they become confounded when we contemplate that universal action and reaction in which causes and effects are eternally changing places, so that what is effect here and now will be cause there and then, and vice versa.

None of these processes and modes of thought enters into the framework of metaphysical reasoning. Dialectics, on the other hand, comprehends things and their representations, ideas, in their essential connection, concatenation, motion, origin and ending. Such processes as those mentioned above are, therefore, so many corroborations of its own method of procedure.

Nature is the proof of dialectics, and it must be said for modern science that it has furnished this proof with very rich materials increasingly daily, and thus has shown that, in the last resort, Nature works dialectically and not metaphysically; that she does not move in the eternal oneness of a perpetually recurring circle, but goes through a real historical evolution. In this connection, Darwin must be named before all others. He dealt the metaphysical conception of Nature the heaviest blow by his proof that all organic beings, plants, animals, and man himself, are the products of a process of evolution going on through millions of years. But, the naturalists, who have learned to think dialectically, are few and far between, and this conflict of the results of discovery with preconceived modes of thinking, explains the endless confusion now reigning in theoretical natural science, the despair of teachers as well as learners, of authors and readers alike.

[ First | Prev | Table of Contents | Next ]

[jsprnt]

a sweet picnic date with your fiancé

darwin núñez x fem! reader

A/N: missed writing requests so much!! based on this request. thank you for your patience and sweet words <33

W/C: 1.412

"stop moving, babe. you're messing the parting up.."

you whine, frown forming on your face as your fiancé moves his head again, ruining the braid you were weaving into his long hair.

"lo siento amor. i didn't realize it would get messed up.." darwin apologizes, moving his head when he notices your hands moving away from his hair.

"why did you stop?" he asks, shifting his body so he can face you.

you grasp the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it in annoyance.

"you keep moving.." you scrunch your face up, making a small sound of annoyance.

"i said i'm sorry, cariño. come on, try again, please?" he says, grabbing your hands to squeeze them into his.

it was silly really, but you just wanted to have some peace and quiet in the park with your fiancé.

the season had just ended, and darwin had a couple days off before his international duty started.

with the sun shining this afternoon, he had suggested having a little picnic date in the local park.

you had agreed, obviously- because who wouldn't want to enjoy mother nature and her beauty pre-summer?

"wait, stay here.." darwin suddenly perks up. slipping the birkenstocks you had gotten him recently on and walking away from your little set up on the grass.

a big, comfortable blanket and an ice box for your drinks and snacks.

darwin had carried it all out of the car, of course. because in his words: "why would you carry something heavy, when i'm right here?"

you raise your brows in confusion, pulling your sunglasses off your face to enjoy the sun beaming down onto your face.

living in england for the past few years meant limited sun exposure, so you'd be crazy not to enjoy the sun when it was out.

you look to your side when you hear the rustling of grass, making immediate eye contact with your fiancé. cheeky expression on his face as he holds his right hand behind his back.

"what's that?" you ask curiously, smile pulling at your lips.

"my apology gift.” he states, stepping closer and sitting next to you on the checkered blanket.

"show me.." you urge, moving to sit on your legs in anticipation.

he nods, grin on his face, when he pulls a mini bouquet from behind his back. consisting of little dandelions and violas plucked from the bushes and grass in the park.

it’s a huge contrast from the huge, colorful bouquet he’d give you or send you when he was gone for work. you could never get enough of the pretty and delicate arrangements of flowers he’d choose specifically for you.

you chuckle at his gesture and cuteness, grabbing the petite bouquet of wildflowers from his outstretched arm.

"you're so cute, baby. apology accepted.." you cave in, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips.

you pull back, squealing when you get tackled onto the soft blanket by darwin.

his body hovers over yours in a second, and you look up when he chuckles.

"you're definitely the cuter one here, cariño.." he dips his head down to trail kisses down your neck and collarbone, making you gasp in surprise.

the kisses were usually welcome, but definitely not in the middle of this public park.

you bring your hands up to stop him, his luscious, untied hair falling in front of his face and tickling your skin.

"what? i can't love on my own fiancée now?" he smirks, feeling your hands tangle into his brown hair.

"your hair is tickling me.." you protest, feeling his hands move around your back to help you sit up again.

"braid it then, please amor..." he asks, eyes twinkling as he looks at you. beaming sun, almost making his hair look a reddish brown.

"i won't move this time, promise." he adds, turning away from you, so he's sitting right in between your legs.

"you promised." you remind, hands reaching up to rake your fingers through his soft hair. the smell of his shampoo and conditioner still present from the shower earlier that morning.

"where is your hair tie?" you ask, looking around for the black elastic. even if darwin had an entire drawer full of them, you'd bet he'd lose them all within the span of one week.

"here.." he says, slipping the tie off his wrist and handing it to you.

"surprised you didn't lose it picking flowers for me.." you tease, parting his hair neatly into three sections, making sure there are no fly-aways before pulling each strand over the other.

you can hear him hum in relaxation, knowing he absolutely loved it when you ran your fingers through his hair.

after a particularly hard day or intense match, you'd always help him calm down from the day's activities with hair care.

it was a great way to bond with each other, both in figuring out what worked for his hair and basking in the calm after the storm.

"your hair has grown a lot since the last time you cut it.." you say, tangling your fingers into the strands and finally pulling the hairtie off your wrist. tying the end of the braid neatly and tightly so your work won't come undone easily.

"i know, but i like it long.."

his reason? you being able to play with his hair, of course.

"if you like it, you should keep it this way, baby." you reassure, moving your hand to smooth out the braid, and the ends of it. your engagement ring glimmering in the sunshine.

your eyes flicker to the wildflowers he'd plucked minutes ago. getting a little idea, you grab one of the flowers. beginning to poke the small stems through the single braid.

"what are you doing, amor?" darwin questions, wondering why it's taking you longer than usual.

"just a second.." you murmur, smiling to yourself when you place the last yellow dandelion into the braid.

"tada!" you lift your hands up, smiling brightly at your work.

"what? i want to see.." your fiancé whines, comically turning like he's going to be able to see what you did to his hair.

"let me take a picture." you say, grabbing your phone off the blanket next to you and snapping a picture. making sure you get a good shot of all the flowers neatly placed in his hair.

"look.." you chuckle, moving to sit on your knees and wrapping your arms around his neck. pressing your chest against his back and placing your chin on his shoulder as you show him the photo.

you raise your brow, having difficulty holding back your smile as you watch his face scrunch in happiness.

"the flowers- you made it all pretty, cariño. thank you.."

you let go of him, seeing him turn around, so he can face you again. you feel him press a tender kiss on your temple, feeling warm and giddy inside.

he wraps his arms around your frame, pulling you closer to his body.

"do you still want those strawberries i packed?" he questions, reaching over to open the blue cool box when you nod eagerly.

"they're perfectly ripe this time.." he comments, opening the tuperware and poking a fork through a sweet strawberry.

"i got them at the farmers market. they looked delicious." you say, opening your mouth, so he can feed you the sweet fruit.

"it's good. try one baby." you convince him with a full mouth, watching him try one as well.

he hums at the taste, nodding in agreement, before placing the fork down.

"it is good, very sweet- but not sweeter than you, amor.."

you roll your eyes at the corny tease, though a grin shows up on your face.

"i'm not, but can you give me another one, please?" you ask, mouth open, ready for another yummy strawberry.

"in denial? why don't we pack up and go home so i can show you?"

you almost choke on your spit, squinting at him as the sun shines directly into your eyes. his eyes widen in surprise at your sudden fit of coughing, making him pat your back quickly.

"I'm fine, but.." you begin, smirk pulling at your lips when you start to tease him back.

"will you carry everything back to the car again?"

"is that really a question?"

he’ll pack everything up in a matter of seconds if it meant that he could get home and give you all of his love, and you knew that..