#he is a shy model and was depicted as such

[iliothermia]

[happysharkintensifies]

Booktok makes me sick, not just because of all the shitty books. It's the prevalence, no, the celebration, of toxic masculinity. Every single booktok book features some variation on the same man. And without fail, against all sensible reason, these characters are portrayed as handsome and charismatic and desirable.

It makes me sick when these authors hold up these toxic, predatory traits and put them on a pedestal as some kind of Ideal Man.

It makes me sick when their aggressiveness and possessiveness is treated as romantic. It makes me sick when these shitty men forcibly grab women, invade their personal spaces, and render them helpless by 'purring' in their ears, every. single. fucking. time.

It makes me sick that these misogynistic, heteronormative, and hypermasculine social conventions keep appearing in so-called feminist literature.

Strip away the idealized elements and you have what is basically the rich, white, cishet, alpha-male archetype. He's tall, usually six feet, physically fit and muscular with obligatory six pack abs, and conventionally handsome, with a chiseled jawline. He's usually clean-shaven, and any hair he may have on his body is minimal. He maintains composure at all times and rarely shows anxiety or uncertainty. He exudes raw charisma and charm and navigates social spaces effortlessly.

His hobbies, if he has any, are stereotypically masculine. When it comes to sex, he's confident, skilled, exclusively dominant, and always knows what to do without communicating with his partner. The sex he enjoys is usually rough, animalistic and overpowering. He may have been with several women in the past, and he may be regarded as a sex god, both in-universe and out.

His toxic traits are rarely portrayed as negative. But when they are, they're usually held up as some edgy, anti-hero persona and the reader is inevitably manipulated into sympathizing with him. He'll be portrayed as a tortured, wounded animal, and his female love interest (and, by proxy, the reader) will decide on some variation of 'I can fix him'.

He is essentially the unrealistic standard the ideal Proper Man; the one that men are expected to emulate, and that women are expected to swoon over.

But what really irks me is the lost potential.

If there are men who don't fit into this mold, they are depicted as pathetic, ineffectual, or any number of negative traits.

The narrative quietly and passive-aggressively mocks them and portray them as boring and un-sexy.

After all, is this the kind of man who will bravely swoop in and sweep a helpless woman off her feet? Of course not. Such men are boys. Wimps. Cowards.

These books are supposed to be fantasy: a genre in which easily anything can be explored. If faeries, magic, and contrived mating bonds can exist, then why can't we also have male characters who exist outside the stereotypical, hypermasculine mold?

Why is it that we can have so many fantastical, impossible, and wondrous magical forces, creatures, and peoples, but we can't have men who aren't possessive, abusive, or controlling?

Why is it that male characters, have to be so innately dominant, abusive, and violent? Why do they have to be so fit and muscular and strong?

Even worse, why is it treated as something that is so natural, so inescapable, even in the realm of fiction?

Where are the men who aren't tall and fit? Where are the men who don't have sculpted abs or chiseled jawlines? Where are the men who aren't lean and muscular?

Why can’t we have men who are skinny or overweight? Why can't we have men who aren't handsome or attractive, but just average looking? Why can't we have men who are shorter or just average height?

Why can't we have men with non-stereotypical hobbies? Why can't we have men who love to read, or paint, or write, or sing, or dance, or build model kits?

Why can’t we have men who are timid and shy? Why can't we have men who feel anxiety, fear, and sadness? Why can't we have men who aren't afraid of crying openly?

Why can't we have men who aren't sex gods? Why can't we have men who aren't confident in bed? Who are anxious, or even scared, at the prospect of sex? Who are passive instead of dominant? Who want to experience intimacy and affection?

Why can’t we have men be kind and gentle and sweet for once?

I'll tell you why we can't. Because booktok says men like these are not 'man' enough. Booktok says men like these are the 'boring' option, and completely devoid of interesting quirks, traits or personality. Booktok says men like these are underserving of attention, and only fit to be background noise.

As far as booktok is concerned, men like these can't exist.

[adventuringblind]

Solace

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: angsty AF but happy end don't worry

Request: No, but they're open! I love seeing your ideas so please send them! I promise I don't bite... most the time ;)

Summary: you and Max get to grow together. Neither of your dads being the best parenting model. When Max sees what your dad has don’t to you, he knows something has to be done.

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, depictions of most forms of abuse, descriptions of injuries

Notes: written in second person. I’ve noticed a theme with my writing… we’re just going to ignore it and I will continue to heal my trauma this way :)

Masterlist

Everyone expected great things from you. Expectations you wanted so badly to meet. Yet you always felt like you were falling short.

Your father is a Redbull mechanic. A good one at that. He's incredibly smart and respected within the paddock. One of Max's top engineers.

Your mother had left during your childhood. This means you got to spend your time traveling everywhere with your father. Him even being your teacher until you started online school and graduated.

Christian offered you a job that involved being on the pitwall. One you took happily. It meant you didn't have to spend the race in the garage with your dad.

From the outside, you looked happy. But you weren't up to standard with what your father wanted. You weren't perfect.

Behind closed doors, things were much different. You were blamed for your mothers disappearance. Blamed for your fathers woes. Used as a physical and verbal punching bag to help him feel better.

All the while, you convinced yourself it was for his benefit. That you deserved this for not being what your father wanted. He provided for you all these years, why couldn't you do this for him.

When Max started at redbull, both of you were still young. Regardless, the friendship was meant to be. No matter how much wither of your fathers hated it.

It led to secret rendezvous and stolen moments of escape with each other. You understood him and he understood you.

Max failed to realize how you understood. His dad was open with his behaviors. Jos had yet to back down from a session of publicly shaming his child. Your dad didn't do anything close to that. So how on earth could you know exactly what he needed during those hard nights.

He'd asked Christian about it a few times. Why you were so shy and timid around adults. It was difficult to understand.

Christian had told him not to worry about it and to focus on his racing. He was watching out for you.

It was true. Christian had been your Guardian angel on multiple occasions. Even staying with his family over long breaks why home was too difficult. He made sure you were fed and had clothes that fit. Everything you lacked in your own house.

The one thing that stopped him from getting him away from you is that you never explicitly told him or showed any signs of it. He was working on assumptions and possible hints.

He'd tried to catch anything that would give him a leg up, but he'd yet to het anything.

Your relationship with Max grew over the years. The two of you melded. You knew how to tame the Mad Max that fought to escape, and he knew how to soothe your tears.

You found solice in each other. Stability in your friendship. A love you both were willing to fight for.

Which happened a lot.

Neither of you knew how to communicate properly. Resulting in hard arguments and yelling matches. One of you is always shutting down before any real reconciliation can happen.

Christian got to be a father to both of you in this way. Coaching you two on how to express your feelings healthily. He was routing for you two. Knowing both your fathers weren't the best, you and Max needed to learn and love with someone safe. He was glad to take you both under his wing.

Then you were able to flourish. You started smiling more. Your eyes lost the bags from underneath them.

Max started opening up more. Standing up to his father slowly became easier. His smile and silly attitude got to be more prominent.

You started showing affection to each other in public. Openly spending time with the other. Not caring what either of your fathers thought.

After all, you were both adults. Right?

You thought everything was going to be over when you moved in with Max. You were nervous about it, mainly because you were self-conscious about your body. Nevertheless, you knew it would be a good change.

~

It was a soft moment between you two. Your giggles as Max left chaft kisses all over your face made him smile.

He felt bad for looking. He knew you were struggling with insecurities, and he wanted to respect your privacy.

But as your shirt inches up your body, he catches sight of the dark marks along your hips and torso.

He immediately stopped everything. His breathe hitched in his throat.

You looked where his eyes had landed. The secret finally out. One part of you wanted to be relieved, but right now you were panicking. Your brain reeling with every possible outcome.

You did the first thing that came to mind. You apologized. You begged him not to tell anyone. Tried to convince him that it was your own fault. Your breath becoming more uneven with every word.

Max was taken off guard. He knew it had been bad, but he’d never seen it and you’d never shown him. His emotions were bubbling to the surface rapidly. But you didn’t need him to be angry with your father right now.

He removes his hands from your body to give you space. He didn’t want to scare you anymore then he already had. “Don’t apologize, none of that is your fault, okay.” It felt like he was trying to soothe a wild animal. “Can I hold you?”

You nodded your head yes. Eyes moving rapidly to every sound. Your senses hyper aware of everything happening.

He reached out for you slowly, making sure to stay within eye view. Something that helped him when he’d come to you. Slowly you made your way into his arms. Basking in the way he felt like safety.

“We don’t have to talk about it now, but when you’re ready I’m going to spend hours kissing all your bruises better.”

~

The next morning, Max took it slow. You both were needed at the track but he wasn’t in a rush. He wanted to give you time. You’d fallen asleep in his arms. Him soothing every tear that ran down your cheeks.

When you two arrived together, he made his way through the back entry with you in tow. Attempting to avoid cameras and your father. He needed to make sure you got somewhere safe first before he even attempted talking to his lead engineer.

He immediately went to Christian. His face when he saw you two approach made Max want to turn around.

“I can see on your face that you want to punch someone.” Christian sighs in exasperation.

Max looks between his team principal and you. Words now refusing to form in his mouth. How was he supposed to explain this? “Can Y/N stay with you while I run around doing things.”

Christian hesitates, confusion evident. “Only if you tell me what’s going on.” He could see you were in pain. You looked like you’d been crying.

Max leaned into whisper. Worried about cameras and the nearing possibility of your father spotting you two. “It’s worse then we thought.”

Christian rubbed his temples. Motioning for Max and you to follow him into his office. The door closing the a soft click behind them. Neither sat down, the anxiety too much for either of them.

Christian was trying to get a read off of you. You, however, had yet to even look at him. Your body language had reverted back to when you were small. When he let you pretend to work on the cars. It hurt him.

He was about to say something when a knock sounded at the door. A rough knock. A familiar knock. You flinched away from the door. Your survival instincts kicking in.

Christian motioned for you two to sit down. Max gently gripping your wrist to get you to follow him. You flicked unintentionally but he just looked at you knowingly. You needed to move and he was just trying to help.

You sit down across from Christian. Max’s leg was bouncing up and down so fast you thought he might put a hole in the floor.

“Come in.”

You don’t turn around when the door closes. You can hear his breathing. Aware of his every move without even seeing him. Fighting every urge to run away.

“Oh- I was looking for Y/N. We need to go over some data.” He picked up on your fear. You knew it as he walked directly behind you. His hand gripping your shoulder.

You flinched and turned away from his hand. The tension in the room was to thick for you to breath. Max was already out of his chair and ready to connect his fist with anything.

Christian put his hands in between the two men. Aware of the still open door and people peaking inside.

You were trying to cower away from the aggression. Away from the onlookers. Into the safety of Max.

“I think Y/N was busy going over some things with Max, but I’d be happy to look at it.” Christian gave his best attempt at a neutral smile.

Your father was growing angrier. It’s the first time he’d openly tried anything. The grip he had on your shoulder already bruising.

“Busy doing what? Trying to ruin her future even more?”

Max saw red. He was already angry, but now he’d crossed a line. He knew he shouldn’t have done it. However, the feeling of his fist connecting with the jaw of your fathers was to satisfying for him to care.

Your father reeled backwards. His hands clutching his face.

You jump from the chair. Finding refuge behind Max's body.

Max was ready to go for another swing. Before he could lunge, Christian grabbed his shoulder.

"Why don't you Teo cool off in Max's driver room. I'll come find you later."

Max didn't move. His chest heaving. The two men willing eachother to make a move.

You take Max's wrist. Gently trying to lead him through the door.

You, however, didn't get far. Your father knew something was wrong the second he saw you come into the garage. He’d been around Max long enough to know that he’s a protector. He knew that if you wanted, you could ruin his entire life.

So, he lunged for you. Grabbed hold of your hair and pulled. You were in his grip again before Max could even register what was happening.

“Max, go get security.”

“But-“

“Your going to be faster then me.”

Reluctant, Max sprints out of the garage. Making his way swiftly to the nearest security checkpoint. He was grateful it was only Thursday. The amount of fans in the paddock significantly less and he didn’t have to drive with his adrenaline already so high.

You were silently pleading that Christian is able to talk some sense into your father. His previously free hand now covering your mouth.

You’d been here before. Breath. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. The mantra you’re mind recited through your entire childhood.

You could see Christian saying words but couldn’t hear them. He was trying to get closer but the hold on you became stronger with each step he took.

Your mind goes blank for a moment. Your body present but your mind dissociated. You can see the interactions take place, but you don’t feel present, or even real.

He is shaking you now. Your body jostling. Then the floor. More footsteps.

Max.

He’s leaning over you. Checking to see if your okay. You can see the panic in his eyes. A soft blue that you will your mind to latch onto.

You can hear him now. He’s whispering to you. “Your safe now” falling like a prayer from his lips.

Max cradles you in his arms. Holding you close as the noises of your father struggling slowly get quieter.

Christian also appeared at eye level. Crouching down beside the two of you. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t see it.”

“I didn’t want to cause my trouble.”

“You never cause trouble.” A smile ghosts across Christian’s face for a moment. “Your dad will not be allowed back into the paddock. And you already know, but if you ever need a place you’re welcome at our home.”

~

Unfortunately, the events that transpired were within view of people and cameras. Christian deemed it a ‘family emergency’ and let you two go back to the hotel. Leaving the media Max needed to do for tomorrow and Checo to replace Max at the press conference.

Now you and Max lay facing each other on the bed. Neither has said very much. Only trying to process the events.

Then you remember something Max said last night. “Can you kiss it better please?”

Max smiled softly and inched himself closer to you. “Stop me if it becomes to much.” You nod at him.

He lifts up your Redbull polo uniform just above your waistline. Placing gently kisses to every place on your body that your father had marked in some way.

He pulled you into him after he finished. The two of you just staying their. Embracing the new possibility of peace you’d both wanted for so long.

[bruhstation]

You seem like a Train Professional so where would one begin in order to get into the funny little talking train show?

these are all my own opinions so take it like a grain of salt -- the common go-to would be the thomas and friends tv show. start off from season 1 then work all your way up to the top (not actually really. you can skip some later seasons like s17 if you want to). the model seasons are considered to be some of the greatest because 1) they set the foundation of the cast (besides the railway series books) 2) they contain some of the most iconic scenes from the show like gordon's ronan kirk crash, the flying kipper accident, james and the shoelaces, etc and 3) they're the originals so you know what their personalities and relationships to their peers were like and how their characterization was supposed to be like before the cgi era flip flopped them up

also check out the railway series books in the meantime! the funny talking train show was based on the book series created by reverend awdry for his sick son! the first book feature edward, henry, and gordon. thomas appears in the second book. fast forward decades later and britt alcroft created a tv show called thomas the tank engine. there are many eras of the show, from models, to model/cgi hybrid, to computer animations where the show gets passed around like a volleyball from studio to studio

here's a google spreadsheet that contains all the thomas and friends episodes in various languages. feel free to watch the show for yourself and decide which seasons you like the most

some more of my thoughts under the cut

I recommend you steer clear of the big world big adventures seasons and specials because it's probably the most controversial seasons in the fandom. replacing two of the core cast members, "pandering" to certain audiences, putting in lackluster representation for the sake of selling toys, SAID representation turns out to be racist depictions, all of it reflected the current state of mattel when handling thomas and friends. they also didn't contribute anything to the overall show, like by the time the bwba seasons were out, people dgaf and just focused on the older seasons. you can ignore bwba and you won't miss anything important about ttte. not that I'm stopping you! you have your own free will.

the thing about ttte that made many adults get into it (if not for train autism) is how ttte was a show grounded in reality. idk if that makes sense but basically despite being a show about mean talking trains for little kids, reverend awdry and britt alcroft handled the characters with care. they gave the engines so much charm by making them bicker with each other like the cranky old engines they are BUT they're not reduced to singular personality traits too. thomas is cheeky and kind of a meanie but he wants to prove himself useful. edward is old and acts as a mentor to thomas but he also wants to show that he still got it despite his old age. gordon went from being a pompous grand young express engine to a humble old engine being a mentor to the newer ones and so on! they also put a lot of historical references related to the engines' basis too and tie their backstories in (henry's a stolen faulty design hence his cynical, miserable personality at the early seasons of the show). there's even irl engines mentioned in both the books and show (flying scotsman and city of truro) and it's just neat!!! because awdry cares about history so much!!!! that he even made an "encyclopedia" about sodor, its railways, and its history

the books and the earlier seasons of ttte didn't shy away from themes of death and usefulness and all that (the story of godred, henry being a faulty engine and getting cask of amontillado'd for being uncooperative, all of gordon's siblings scrapped sans flying scotsman) because the thing about them being engines are important to them. it's their reison d'etre. they get scrapped if they cannot be of use anymore, because that's how things have always been. they get into accidents often because their ego got to them. dieselization is starting on the island of sodor and the diesels are asserting their dominance over the oldschool steam engines. the engines just exist there. they just happen to have faces and talk. idk. I think it's interesting how they view life a bit differently than humans. thank you for listening to my ramble

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey! I work in a bookshop and quite frequently get asked by parents about Anna Huang or other ‘dark romance’ books which have become popular on tiktok. They often very clearly have no clue what they are and have been asked for them by the kid. I’m totally fine with that and each to their own but sometimes I get the question of whether they’re ‘appropriate’, today it was for a 14 year old. I never want to snitch because I’m sure I read the same when I was 14 but I also don’t know how to feel about lying. As someone who talks about sex ed, do you have any advice for talking to parents about books that depict sex explicitly (and with questions about ‘age appropriate-ness) and potentially what you normally recommend to and for teenagers that age, particularly in front of parents?

hey man, I'm gonna be so real with my take on this:

1.) parents don't need to know everything their kids are reading and 2.) if they're so worried about whether or not a book fits what they think is appropriate for their kids, there are... so many ways to do that. literally just google it, besties. read the synopsis. tiktok dark romances are not shy about what they're about.

and if they're right there in the store, odds are they can get their hands on a physical copy of bestseller Ana Huang's books and flip through to get a sense of what's going on. again, the romance genre is not subtle; catching points of concern will not be hard. your job as a bookseller is to get books in people's hands; the vetting process is up to them and that doesn't make you a liar, frankly.

a good canned response might be something like "a lot of teenagers like these books, and kids tend to be pretty good at knowing what kind of stories they're ready to read. if you're worried about it, maybe you can try reading some reviews of the book before you buy it or having a conversation with your kid about the content." no lies there, and kids really are stellar at just noping out of stories that aren't really landing on their wavelength. and on the flipside of that, kids are actually WAY MORE CAPABLE than many parents think of reading potentially upsetting stories and processing it just fine.

the last time I was teaching sex ed classes with my 4th-6th graders there was this darling boy on the older end of the group who LOVED reading romance novels, but on the day our class was talking about consent he told me very seriously that he thought the characters in his books were actually pretty bad at just talking to each other and how those kinds of relationship dynamics wouldn't be very good in real life. he was completely right! and totally aware that things he thought were interesting to read about weren't good role models! amazing!

for a 14 year old in particular, I think drawing hard boundaries around sex in books is frankly very silly. when I was in middle school the Hunger Games was being cheerfully recommended to every kid who walked into the library; if a 14 year old can read about a bunch of teens slaughtering each other in a state-sanctioned dystopian blood bath they can absolutely read about two people having dubiously written sex.

[merbear25]

Hey hi! Can you do romantic hcs with prussia, France and Belarus x reader who likes to draw them and does it all the time. Thanks! ^v^

Oh my goodness, what a cute idea for you to send in! I loved considering how they’d feel. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you.💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, headcanons/scenarios

When you like drawing them (Prussia, France, Belarus)

Prussia

Of course, you would want to draw him! He had such dazzling features, so he’d be more than happy to strike a few poses for you.

He was far from shy and bashful so would be sure that you caught his good side (all of his sides were his good side).

It would go without saying that whatever you drew, whether or not it was of him, would be showered with compliments. He admired your artistic abilities. On the days you were overly critical of your art, he’d be there pointing out specific things he adored about each work of yours.

Even though he had a loud personality, the drawings you did of him when he wasn’t paying attention and simply doing mundane things got the strongest reaction out of him. This reaction was quiet in comparison to the others but was felt the most deeply.

He could understand why you’d want to draw him in a pose or doing something iconic, but seeing how much care you put into capturing his quieter moments made his heart skip a beat.

Such things were deemed as unimportant to him—not worth capturing, especially when the method was talent based. Why you thought the opposite was a mystery, and yet he was thankful for it.

France

You flattered him, honestly. He would ask if you had any specific ideas in mind so as to help pose if need be. Any props you needed him to hold to get the proportions just right would gladly be modeled with.

He did his best not to sneak peaks because he’d rather it be a surprise. Needless to say, he was nothing short of amazed with whatever the final version was—the artist was near and dear to him, meaning each work was cherished by him regardless what it was of.

There were plenty of moments he looked over at you, admiring the way you furrowed your brow in concentration. Some of the motions you made while thinking through the positions got him chuckling.

When you asked what was so funny, he waved it off by saying a random thought had crossed his mind.

There were no favorites of his. He enjoyed every style you drew in. Sure, he had a preference towards the softer and cuter depictions of himself and the other things you drew, but that never meant he saw the darker choices you made as less than extraordinary.

He enjoyed art and drew from time to time, so he’d offer to set time aside to do it together—forming a stronger bond was the overall goal.

Belarus

She wouldn’t enjoy it at first. Her insecurities would come through, ruining the precious bonding potential it held. The main reason for the cold shoulder it signaled was her not fully understanding why you wanted to.

You showed her some cute doodles you did of her, and that was what changed her mind. She came around, albeit slowly, but eventually learned to appreciate it for what it was—a sign of your adoration for her.

She’d want to sit next to you and watch the process unfold. However, she was horribly awkward about it. When you looked up at her coming over to you, she chickened out, blaming you for making her feel weird about it.

You didn’t think much of this behavior. It was just her way of attempting to reach out, so you ignored it and showed her the drawings once having finished.

The more open you were with showing your works, the more comfortable she got to the idea of you drawing her. Deep down, she enjoyed how you portrayed her—there was a beauty and delicacy in the strokes you made.

When she felt enough at ease, you had some stern-faced company looking over your shoulder as you drew. That was fine though. She was simply mesmerized by your technique and wished to observe it was all.

[smutracha]

Volume XI

rewind <3 fast forward

Mafia!SKZ Yandere!SKZ Afab!reader Poly!SKZ

tw: violence, blood, guns, knives, nicotine, drugging, alcohol, ptsd, sexual harrasment, mentions of self harm, depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, depictions of death and gore

smut warnings: anal, oral(f), sex toys, filming, pet play, degradation, praise, squirting, shower sex

Monday – Minho

Waking up with Minho was always so pleasant, he would softly wake you up with a gentle voice and a light hand rubbing your back until you looked into his eyes and he could kiss you. He never said good morning, he would just kiss you before he climbed out of bed and piggybacked you into the kitchen where he would sit you down at one of the barstools so you could watch him cook. He’d always make you something extra when you woke up with him.

Partially to show his affection without having to say anything at all. Partially because it meant that you could take your pills and be fully functioning by the time the rest of the boys joined the two of you. Today it was apple and cinnamon oats, something he noticed you particularly enjoyed.

As you finally started coming to your senses, Chan walked into the kitchen in nothing but gym shorts. Hi princess, hi Lino. What’s breakfast today?” “I got oats and veggie sausage and mushrooms and an egg.” “Ooh the oats look yum.”

Minho went to grab a bowl for Chan to have what was left. “Mm, she’ll need the energy.” “Oh yeah, good luck little princess, he’s a bit of a sadist. And a major ass man.”

After breakfast, Minho led you to the shower where he washed your body with gentle flicks at your nipples every so often but when he decided he couldn’t handle just looking anymore, his mouth followed. His lips sucking and biting and gently teasing you had you whining for more. “Ask properly, little kitty.” “Please give me more, need more.” “Master, that’s what you will call me.” “Master, please give me more.” “Good kitten.” He was on his knees before you in no time, hooking a leg over his shoulder so that your wet, puffy folds were right in front of his eyes. “So wet already kitty.” “All because of master.”

He slid his tongue gently over your slit, repeating the process again and again. Tongue starting lower, every time. And like that he sat there, lapping at your ass, while his fingers toyed gently at your clit. The feeling sending you to a newfound bliss. “Master, please.” ”Please what, kitty?” “Fingers please, master.” “Where? Where do you want your master’s fingers?” “In my…” you were too shy and ashamed of yourself to even say the word. “Where, kitty? Could it be here?” he says poking gently at the hole his tongue had been so focused on just before. “Say it, kitty. Say it for your owner.” “Please put your fingers in my ass, master.” it was a shy whisper. “Say it properly, dumb kitten.” “Please finger my ass, master.” “Good kitty.”

“Here you go.” He snickered, plunging a finger inside, the feeling making you cum immediately. It was a whole new world of pleasure. “Oh poor kitten. My dumb little anal whore kitty. Did you cum from just that? Perfect.”

He shut off the shower, quickly wrapping you in a fluffy towel before picking you up and taking you to his personal room. “On the bed, all fours.” You got into the position he wanted, facing the headboard. You couldn’t see as he rummaged behind you but soon enough he came over to sit next to you. He set down a plush cat tailed butt plug, some lube and a dildo. “This dildo is special, my pet. Wanna know why?” you nod with large eyes staring at the blue cock. It was long and curved and an average girth. It had you drooling already, “Drooling over your master’s cock already? Dumb whore, this dildo is special cause it’s modelled after me. We got these so that you could have us when we aren’t able to help you. But look how handy they are.”

He wandered back to where he was and came back holding a pair of cat ears and a collar with a bell. Black and pink. it was all so co-ordinated. He adorned you with the items as he settled his hand roughly on your throat, digging the leather of your baby pink collar into your neck. “You’re gonna suck on this cock while daddy gets you used to your new tail, kitten.”

He placed the fake cock on the headboard for you to suck and drool on. After settling in behind you he pumped some lube onto your sensitive hole. The sudden cold making you jerk forward in shock but the second you felt his fingers rubbing over it, you moaned around the beautiful dildo in your mouth. “Good girl. Just relax.”

But that’s as far as his sweetness went it seemed. Without any warning, he had two fingers pumping into your ass, stretching you open before he spat into it. A wave of cum spilling from your pussy. “Oh dumb kitty, you must love this. God you’re just so perfect, can’t wait to fuck you.” You were already cock drunk; his words hardly even registered. Immediately after his last word he added another finger, landing a harsh slap to your clit to wake you up, he laid out an instruction “From now on, you only cum when I allow you to cum.” You moaned out an agreement around his fake dick. He stretched and pumped and fucked your ass into oblivion with his fingers.

He pulled his fingers out after some time. You were so far gone that you hadn’t noticed the butt plug disappearing from beside you. The cold push of metal against your ass causing a shrill shriek to sound in your chest. But the sound was muffled, and he scoffed at how pathetic you were. He pulled your hair to bring you off of the dildo, “Wanna hear you.” the plug pushed halfway in as you moaned at the sensation. Then it was pulled back, he kept half-fucking you with the plug. He lowered his head and his lips wrapped around your clit, making you scream in pleasure. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer. “Master, master please. Need to cum, master. Master, wanna cum. M good kitty, cum.” You were a babbling, drool covered mess as he popped his lips off of your clit and yelled “Cum!” before shoving the plug fully inside of you. You squirted on his chest, colours dancing in your vision as you let the orgasm wash over you. “God kitty, might need to shower again. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He rushed off to get a cloth to wipe you down, before doing the same for himself. “Come on, let’s get you some cuddles. What do you need?” “Wanna watch Daria and want water and sweets.”

He'd dressed you in a tiny skirt that barely covered your plump ass, allowing the tail to be seen perfectly. As well as one of his comfy knit sweaters. “Oh my god, you’re so cute my little kitten.” You stopped by the kitchen on your way to the screening room. Turns out the boys had gathered there for lunch.

“Oh, oh my. That’s-“ “Hot” “Did anyone else just nut too?” “Ew” “Man you ruined it” “Yeah”

“Okay if you could stop being weird, maybe you could come join us for aftercare.” “How is it aftercare when my little Pixie’s ass is stuffed like that, she’s still new.” “New? Hah.” He scoffed leading you out of the room while the rest followed. “she came thrice, just from me playing with her ass. She’s just an anal kitty now.” You blushed as he fawned over you and how happy you were making him, if that wasn’t enough, the feeling of being so full and the plug moving with every step had you practically dripping.

“Gonna have to do something bout the mess she’s making.” Hyunjin adds while watching your slick thighs rub and jiggle with every step. “That reminds me, I gotta have my sheets cleaned.” You reached the room, and he led you to sit in his lap while he instructed I.N what to put on for you. Sitting in his lap only pushed the plug further into you, making a moan spill from you. The pleasure brought tears to your eyes. “Holy shit, that’s hot.” “We’re only halfway through the training kitten, you’re already so broken.” You mewled at his hands running up your sides as his lips found purchase on your neck. He broke away as the intro song started. 5 episodes later, he decided it was time to finish his training on you.

“Remember baby, cum when I say so.” You were on the bed once again, set in what he told you is called ‘humble’ position. You were to put your ass on display while your back arched as you rested with your arms stretched out before you. He tugged lightly at your tail. Sending a shiver through your body and making you mewl loudly while he started pulling the plug out. You felt the way your aching hole stayed open, he groaned at the sight. “God, baby. At this rate m gonna lose my mind. You’re really made for me, aren’t you. I need to have this ass.” “Master, m yours. All yours, please fuck me. Need master.” “Fuck kitty, you’re making this so hard. I’ll give you my cock soon enough. For now, you’ll have to take a copy.” He rounded you to stroke your cheek gently while his fingers pumped your puckering hole. “is that ok, kitten?” “Yes master.” “So good for your owner, here let me lube you up.” He went to look at your ass again. You felt his spit land on and mostly in your ass just as you heard the sound. Your hips bucked backwards at the degrading action. God he really had you a mess so soon. “And to think you were so innocent, so unbroken only a few hours ago. What happened, pixie?” You could only whimper in shame at his degradation, what was more is that you loved every second of it. “Did your owner do this, baby? Did I really turn you into a cock-dumb bitch?” “Yes, master.” “Well then, let’s give you more. Let’s really break you.” He suddenly shoved the dildo into you. The feeling was amazing. The way you felt every ridge, the subtle curve and the head of it brushing your wall with every thrust. You were gone, drooling and whining. Not a single thought in your head. He stopped for a second, the pause making you open your lust blown eyes, only to find his phone set in front of your face. “I wanna show the boys just how pretty you are, how good you are. And all this just for a plastic cock, whore.” He went back to viciously fucking you with his dildo. “Who owns you baby?” You could only whimper and whine in response. His thrusts only became more volet. “Answer me you cock-hungry slut.” You were screaming with the cruelty of his actions, the pleasure overwhelming every cell. “You own me, master!” You screamed out. “Cum for your owner. Cum for me kitty!” And like that you blacked out in bliss. White flashes bursting behind your eyelids as you squirted all over his arm.

“So good, baby. So good.” He gently rubbed your back, pulling you up into his arms as he picked you up. He grabbed his phone too before carrying you into the bathroom. He sat you on the bathmat. “Gonna run us a bath ok, angel?” He opened the faucet, while the tub filled he held you gently. “You did so good baby, so good.” Soft kisses peppered your face as you giggled in spite of the drowsy state you were in. He stripped himself of his clothes and you of your ears and collar.

As you both settled into the tub he laid you on his shoulder. “It’s ok baby, go to sleep.”

You were wakened as the sun settled over the horizon, to a gentle voice. Met with Minho’s soft smile, he told you it was time for supper. “Come, I’ll carry you.” And indeed, he did. The boys sat chatting amongst themselves as you entered the kitchen, being brought to a seat. Only your food was left at the table. Minho placed you on his lap so that he could feed you while the boys watched. Their soft smiles making you feel warm. “Why you all staring?” “Just heard some screams earlier. You have fun with Minho, little fairy?” Hyunjin asked you.

They all laughed at the blush you tried to hide in your hands. “You must be a bit tired huh, baby? Who you cuddling tonight?” “Want Seungie” “Me? Really? I must be the luckiest guy in the world.” “Minho just had her ass dude; I think that trumps cuddles.” “I haven’t had her ass till I’m actually fucking her full of my cum.” An unanticipated moan filled the room as you felt the wetness rush to your pussy. “Wow she really is cock-hungry for her master, huh?” Changbin chuckles at your state. “Oh my god, you showed them that?!” “I said I would little kitty. By the way, they lost their minds. I’ve never seen Felix so desperate before in my life.” “She doesn’t need to know, Minho.” “Look at you, but I couldn’t get a coherent word out of you while you lost yourself on my cock. All of that from one clip of your precious pixie taking it up her ass. My pretty Lixie.” “Hyune, you know that’s not fair; you really know how to use me.”

“Seungie, sleep?” You found yourself drifting off even as the boys teased and argued about their sexual habits and performance. “Come little pup. Let’s go.”

[mocolococoffeesimp]

Howdy! May I request Happy Chaos and anyone else you want having an artist as a lover? :3

Sure thing, anon! Decided to give spotlight to Kum for other one.

"Draw me like, one of your french girls." He smirked at you, as he laid on the couch, holding a rose between his teeth. Luckily, he was wearing pants. This would become, a common occurrence. Him posing for you, wanting to serve as your muse.

-He would always be willing to model for you, trying out new poses and outfits. You won't even have to try to get him to model for you. He will just, randomly pop to your room, wearing a outfit. (Which, could be suggestive, or most chill outfit.) He wants you to draw him, to make a large portrait of him.

-As, he likes his tattoo on his chest, he will ask you to design a tattoo for him. Possible, even a cute couples tattoo.

-You worked as a painter in the Haehyun court, and you just happened to know Kum's secret. So, during the days you paint portraits of Kum's disguise. Making official portraits, depicting the disguise in best possible light. Than, the evening comes. She steps out of her mech, tired and ready to start relaxing. Only for you to start drawing her.

-She likes it, whenever you draw her. You get to boost her ego about her looks, and you get to practice drawing her. Win-win situation.

-You have to be careful, whenever you're going thru your sketchbook in public, as someone might see the drawings of Kum. Couple times you almost busted her secret when you were showing your drawings. This made you slam the sketchbook shut, you trying to figure out a lie to tell. Kum saw this unfolding, making her burst out laughing in her disguise. She told the maid, you had drawn some "spicy" images for Haehyun. The maid took the answer, but you were a blushing mess. Later, she actually wanted you to draw that spicy images. (She was shy about actually posing for them.)

[st-silver]

It’s a pretty bitter pill to swallow but the Sonic comics do not and never have accurately represented Silver’s character. This has pretty much been admitted to now. 

I don’t come at this from the perspective of a hater. Like a lot of people I got invested in Silver through the comics. I fell in love with him when I came across the Silver Saga story arc as a kid and I got back into Sonic comics and Silver as a character two years ago when the 2022 annual with him and Espio came out but then IDW became game canon and I started to understand game canon Silver. The more I understood his actual character the more I started to realize just how wrong the comics have always been with him.

You have to understand that the comics are an extension of the games and not the other way around. To that end the Sonic comics have never accurately represented Silver. Silver is a blunt, rude and aggressive character that is focused, hot-blooded and headstrong on top of being altruistic and naive. He is different from Sonic and Shadow in that he is naive and controlled by his emotions so he has no chill like them. His backstory is about him fighting and struggling for most of his life for peace and that’s why he’s as aggressive as he is naive and peace loving(Most of this is laid out in the Sonic Channel introduction page for Silver). That doesn’t mean he’s an ultra violent edgy maniac but he’s not a frail twink either. He’s not the shy polite awkward incompetent oaf from Archie or the nervous stuttering secretive coward from Ghosts of The Future.

Beyond the basic premise these characters are not Silver. In many ways many ways they are direct opposites of him. Archie Silver is a polite incompetent easily distracted oaf and Ghosts of the Future Silver is a round eyed nervous stuttering secretive coward. All of those traits are total opposites of Game Silver’s yet both artistically and writing wise these two have had more influence on IDW Silver (and by extension large parts of the fandom) than any game or Sonic Team produced material has.

You also have to understand that the comics have always been praised for being different from the games with Silver because Silver was (and still is) the most hated and misunderstood Sonic character, most people can’t tell you anything about him in the games other than “he’s serious”. There’s a lot more to his character than just “being serious” but most don’t know that because Silver is a very esoteric character and most of his appearances are obscure and/or heavily misinterpreted. 

Silver has always been more popular in the comics than the games because the comics provide more comprehensible and even intimate narratives than the games do while also giving him adventures that focus on him and those big shonen hero moments that everybody loves. I used to be one of the people that thought the comics did better with Silver but after coming to understand his actual character I can say that Silver simply needs to be properly explained and not “fixed” or changed. The “cute clumsy cinnamon roll” shtick just ain’t it. You may prefer Uwuver, Shiver or any other variant of fandom Silver but they aren’t accurate to Sonic Team’s character and it is the comic’s job to represent him. I’m glad that more and more people are finally getting sick of the “making him sick on purpose” thing and we can try to make Silver cool again.

This isn’t the fault of the comics crew but rather Sonic Team themselves. Unlike Shadow who has incredibly strict and specific mandates, there have never been any real restrictions on how Silver is depicted in the comics besides not being allowed to explore his lore. This has been a problem since 2008. They can draw and characterize Silver however they want and ST is just completely hands off with him. Honestly, big kudos to Evan for making these efforts to depict Silver more accurately, first drawing him more and more on model and now this. She has my full support and thanks if she plans to do better by him.

[lizzy-bonnet]

Austenian Dads

A recent post about mothers-in-law by @bethanydelleman had me thinking about the dads in Jane Austen. We get a lot of discourse about mothers and mother figures, who have big, important roles in the stores, but her depictions of fatherhood are interesting too. Here, in my opinion, are the dads and dad-like figures in her novels, ranked from best to worst.

(note: I've left out deceased and barely-there dads, but I will note that Mr. Dashwood's attempt to look out for his daughters, and the amount of grief occasioned by his death, indicate that he is a Top Dad.)

Mr. Musgrove - Notwithstanding "poor Richard", Mr. Musgrove has three reasonably well-adjusted adult children, seems to love his younger children, and goes to his daughter's bedside when she is injured. His children all make Sensible Matches, and he likes kids enough to permit the little Harvilles to be brought back to Uppercross to increase its noise. He folds my beloved Anne into his family and treats her affectionately whenever she is with them. By the standards of the day, he seems pretty solid. 8/10 Least Bad Dad.

Sir John Middleton - Like Mr. Musgrove, Sir John is a people person. His immediate and unreserved adoption of the Dashwoods in their hour of need tells us that he is an unambiguously good-hearted person, which usually leads to loving parenting. His kids are young so we don't see him interacting much with them, but his desire to give everyone a nice time bodes well. He doesn't notice when his teasing goes to far. 7/10 definitely tells the same dad joke over and over.

Mr. Bennet - As a reader I love him because he's pithy, but he's honestly not a great dad, and is not modeling a happy marriage for his daughters. He shows favouritism to Lizzy, lets Lydia run wild, is hurtful towards Mary and Kitty, and fails to save up any money to bribe worthless young men to marry his daughters. 5/10 for putting all his eggs in the "having a son" basket and then doing nothing when the handle on the basket breaks.

Lt. Price - Loud, embarrassing, shiftless. Ignores his daughters but seems to maybe do OK with his sons? 3.5/10, tops.

Sir Walter Elliot - This fucking guy, am I right? He's vain, he's self-obsessed, he's a spendthrift, and he's a dreadful parent. His eldest daughter is his favourite and he basically forgets Anne and Mary exist when they're not directly in front of him (and sometimes doesn't notice them even when they are). His favouritism has damaged Anne and Mary in different ways to Mr. Bennet's to his younger daughters, but the source is the same: he has one child who is like him and others that he doesn't click with, so he basically lets them shift for themselves. In the Elliot household I'm certain this means that sensitive Anne was left to grieve her mother without any comfort from her father. It's no wonder she was ready to marry the first loving man she saw. When he sees her looking well, he thinks it's down to her skin care regimen. 3/10 merely Gowland's.

Sir Thomas Bertram - Poor Fanny, her father figures are both the pits. Sir Thomas knows absolutely zero about what any of his kids are like and can't see how bad Aunt Norris's influence is on all of them. He swings wildly between neglectful and overbearing, and then tries to pressure Fanny into marrying Henry Crawford despite his attentions making her visibly miserable. He also knows perfectly well that Fanny is shy, and yet does not give her any warning that he's throwing a ball for her coming out, plus he sends her home to Portsmouth as a sort of weirdo punishment to make her see what she's missing by not marrying Henry. 2/10 points and he really only gets these for 1. offering to free Maria from her engagement and 2. getting a fire in Fanny's grate, even if he left it until WAY too late to do her much good.

General Tilney - the closest Austen gives us to a villainous parent. The General is dictatorial to his children, oppressive around the house and occasionally creepy towards Catherine. This is made apparent by the fact that the Abbey suddenly becomes much more fun when he goes off to London. He shows himself the ultimate Bad Dad by tossing his daughter's friend out of the house without explanation and hardly the resources to get herself home. 0/10 Gothic Tyrant Dad.

[tsukuyomiland]

Just thinking about her

I'm watching Around the world with Willy Fogg with my son since he has a project in school about travels and foreign countries. This is a Spanish cartoon from my childhood I remember dearly precisely because how aesthetically pleasant was looking at Romi (the equivalent to Aouda from the novel) and not only that, Romi is a good character, yes, she is shy, complacent and even a bit submissive, but she is hopeful, brave, kind and loyal. Maybe is not the perfect role model for a modern girl, but sometimes you only need to see someone who is, simply, nice.

Yeah this show is ancient and it's also depicting a novel with ancient values, so you have to overlook over it. It's enjoyable in any case.

And sorry, Princess Romi (a princess, of course!) is so cute so cute and has the most pleasing palette 🥹

[wrathofbloodeye]

a letter from dennis nilsen to brian masters, 23 August 1991. as the two have similar components in their cases, nilsen provides his opinion on jeffrey dahmer’s motives and psyche.

Dear Brian,

Thanks for the (all too brief) visit. My first observation of D is that he had two primary social factors working against him. The first is that obviously recurring theme of being “a loner.” The second is that (to use the American phrase) he was born on the wrong side of the tracks. I guess that in his most early formative years his immediate household may have been female-dominated (with or without the presence of a passive male adult). As is often the case with serial killers “he always secretly wanted to be someone” as an adjunct to his lifelong world of fantasy (where he is already powerful and potent). In “real” society he feels that he is a dispensable “nobody” as insignificant as those whose remains adorn his private world (his apartment).

The dichotomy is that his power aspirations are not easily transferable into the real world because he has not been endowed with the overt powers of viable drive and ambition in interpersonal relationships in the real world. He achieves “sexual” fulfillment by acts of power of conquest to render the threatening potency of another man into the absolute and manageable state of passivity. He “fears” the potency of real men because he is by nature a wan and socially shy personality. His need for feelings of self-esteem are usually satisfied only in his fantasies (imagination) because he cannot garner such fruits from live people. He needs a totally unresisting, passive model of a human being in order to “cross the bridge” temporarily into “society.” (Being human he needs “fulfillment” in the human three-dimensional world of real flesh and blood.)

It is significant that a common view of the Stone Age depicts a potent male clubbing a sexually desirable female into unconsciousness and “wedding” her by an act of copulation with her passive body. Here we have the ingredients of power/violence rendering the desired person into a state of extreme passivity followed by sexual release for the conqueror. It is the opposite poles of gross action and gross passivity that attract. This is the constant in the serial-killing conundrum whether the victim is male, female or child. Dahmer’s “buzz” comes from the whole continuing ritual exploitation of the victim’s passivity. Each expressive sequence in the ritual gives sexual and self-esteemed satisfaction. It is a grossly perverted psychosexual act of copulation and like normal acts of copulation the satisfaction is of relatively temporary duration. The ejaculation is merely the biological release of inner pressure as is necessary for this human cycle of peaks and troughs.

D is buzzing with excitement and power (his heart rate is pounding at maximum speed) as he “lives out” his omnipotence. (It’s the only time in his life when he feels in his fantasies.) This is while he is stripping, washing and handling his unresisting spouse. These are all acts of possession and expression of extreme dominance. Perhaps subconsciously he is regressing back to his first (and only) memories of human touch, dependency, security and comfort. (As a very small boy being soiled, undressed, washed, powdered, dressed and “laid out.”) After this brief and early period of clear identity and security he drifts away into the wan growing little boy devoid of warmth, touch and comfort. As all humans will do if they cannot satisfy their needs in reality he has drifted to a substitute world where his imagination creates false fodder to feed his hunger. As conditioning advances he finds it less and less easy to relate to other people. Psychologically speaking Dahmer becomes both victim and predator (an easy accomplishment in one’s imaginary world). Brian, this is what you described in me as “virile male in performance and passive female in spirit” (an ungovernable mess of contradictions).

His unfolding aberration escalates in accordance with to what degree he is detached from reality (for example, what is termed NECROPHAGY is an extreme example of extreme detachment). This is manifested in “going all the way” in eating the heart of one’s victim/spouse. (If you have the power to eat a man’s heart this demonstrates your extreme power to possess and his extreme passivity.) The painting and display of the victim’s skull is a constant reminder of one’s potency.

The paradox is that D cannot hate his victims because his objective is achieved by exercising his will to sexual power and potency. The need is “love” for him and death for the hapless victim. Dahmer is “forced” to unnaturally seek to accede to the demands of his natural instinctive drives. He is perhaps partially aware that his “love” is really for himself or a created entity within his deranged personality. It seems clear that his personality will remain disordered in the absence of a self or presented therapy to help him come to terms with the engine of his acts.

P.S. I’m still in the dungeon.”

full source

[denimbex1986]

Christopher Nolan’s highly-anticipated movie “Oppenheimer,” set for release July 21, 2023, depicts J. Robert Oppenheimer and his role in the development of the atomic bomb. But while the Manhattan Project wouldn’t have been possible without the work of many accomplished female scientists, the only women seen in the movie’s trailer are either hanging laundry, crying or cheering the men on.The only women featured in the official trailer for Christopher Nolan’s ‘Oppenheimer’ are crying, hanging laundry or supporting the men.

As a physics professor who studies ways to support women in STEM – science, technology, engineering and math – fields and a film studies professor who worked as a screenwriter in Hollywood, we believe the trailer’s depiction of women reinforces stereotypes about who can succeed in science. It also represents a larger trend of women’s contributions in science going unrecognized in modern media.

Lise Meitner: A pioneering role model in physics

The Manhattan Project would not have been possible without the work of physicist Lise Meitner, who discovered nuclear fission. Meitner used Einstein’s E=MC² to calculate how much energy would be released by splitting uranium atoms, and it was that development that would prompt Einstein to sign a letter urging President Franklin Roosevelt to begin the United States’ atomic research program.

Einstein called Meitner the “Madame Curie of Germany” and was one of a pantheon of physicists, from Max Planck to Niels Bohr, who nominated Meitner for a Nobel Prize 48 times during her lifetime.

Meitner never won. Instead, the prize for fission went to Otto Hahn, her male lab partner of 30 years in Berlin. Hahn received the news of his nomination under house arrest in England, where he and other German scientists were being held to determine how far the Third Reich had advanced with its atomic program.

Of Jewish descent, Meitner had been forced to flee the Nazis in 1938 and refused to use this scientific discovery to develop a bomb. Rather, she spent the rest of her life working to promote nuclear disarmament and advocating for the responsible use of nuclear energy.

Meitner was not the only woman who made a significant contribution during this time. But the lack of physics role models like Meitner in popular media leads to real-life consequences. Meitner doesn’t appear as a character in the film, as she was not part of the Manhattan Project, but we hope the script alludes to her groundbreaking work.

A lack of representation

Only around 20% of the undergraduate majors and Ph.D. students in physics are women. The societal stereotypes and biases, expectation of brilliance, lack of role models and chilly culture of physics discourage many talented students from historically marginalized backgrounds, like women, from pursuing physics and related disciplines.

Societal stereotypes and biases influence students even before they enter the classroom. One common stereotype is the idea that genius and brilliance are important factors to succeed in physics. However, genius is often associated with boys, and girls from a young age tend to shy away from fields associated with innate brilliance.

Studies have found that by the age of 6, girls are less likely than boys to believe they are “really, really smart.” As these students get older, often the norms in science classes and curricula tend not to represent the interests and values of girls. All of these stereotypes and factors can influence women’s perception of their ability to do physics.

Research shows that at the end of a yearlong college physics course sequence, women with an “A” have the same physics self-efficacy as men with a “C”. A person’s physics self-efficacy is their belief about how good they are at solving physics problems – and one’s self-efficacy can shape their career trajectory.

Women drop out of college science and engineering majors with significantly higher grade-point averages than men who drop out. In some cases, women who drop out have the same GPA as men who complete those majors. Compared to men, women in physics courses feel significantly less recognized for their accomplishments. Recognition from others as a person who can excel in physics is the strongest predictor of a student’s physics identity, or whether they see themselves as someone who can excel in physics.

More frequent media recognition of female scientists, such as Meitner, could vicariously influence young women, who may see them as role models. This recognition alone can boost young women’s physics self-efficacy and identity.

When Meitner started her career at the beginning of the 20th century, male physicists made excuses about why women had no place in a lab – their long hair might catch fire on Bunsen burners, for instance. We like to believe we have made progress in the past century, but the underrepresentation of women in physics is still concerning.

Diversity as an asset to science

If diverse groups of scientists are involved in brainstorming challenging problems, not only can they devise better, future-oriented solutions, but those solutions will also benefit a wider range of people.

Individuals’ lived experiences affect their perspectives – for example, over two centuries ago, mathematician Ada Lovelace imagined applications far beyond what the original inventors of the computer intended. Similarly, women today are more likely to focus on applications of quantum computers that will benefit their communities. Additionally, physicists from Global South countries are more likely to develop improved stoves, solar cells, water purification systems or solar-powered lamps. The perspectives that diverse groups bring to science problems can lead to new innovations.

Our intention is not to disparage the “Oppenheimer” movie, but to point out that by not centering media attention on diverse voices – including those of women in physics like Meitner – filmmakers perpetuate the status quo and stereotypes about who belongs in physics. Additionally, young women continue to be deprived of exposure to role models who could inspire their academic and professional journeys'

[fancyrat4]

I drew a Nightwing in Animatedwings style for my little sister! I let her pick a tribe and a color palette while I drew the character and wrote the backstory!

***

Skydance, a solitary NightWing with a passion for painting, spent countless hours under the stars, capturing the beauty of the night sky with his brush. Born with soft, beautiful, green-tinted scales, Skydance accidently drew unwanted attention.

Despite his shy nature, Skydance's talent soon caught the attention of dragons beyond his own tribe. His intricate paintings, depicting scenes of the beauty of the world of night, earned him recognition as a gifted artist among dragons of all tribes.

However, behind his artistic façade, Skydance struggled with feelings of isolation and loneliness. Despite his growing fame, he found solace only in the silent company of the night sky and the brush in his talons. That is until he crossed paths with Jade, the radiant SandWing model with whom he shared a unique bond of green-tinted scales.

Jade and Skydance formed an unlikely friendship that transcended the boundaries of their respective tribes. With Jade's extroverted fevor and Skydance's quiet introverted nature, they complemented each other in ways neither could have imagined.

And, since he hatched under a full moon, he was able to read minds. He knew how honest Jade was, and how she truly felt about him.

And here's what Jade looks like!

[mysticmellowlove]

The Rock Face and the Saxifrage - First Blood

warnings; yan male, gn reader, yandere themes, death, female violence? (briefly)

word count; 1427

note; haha... not me returning to write this storyline again after all these months.

As the door to your dorm swung open you couldn't help but clench your hands as Bowen poked his head around your shoulder. You grit your teeth as the urge to swat him away grew within you. True to his word he had acted weird on the walk back to your apartment.

For a moment you wondered if he was trying to pull off some sort of Dr Jerkyl and Mr Hyde situation, with his vastly differing moods and all that. Now that he had gotten what he wanted he seemed to revert back to his more shy demeanour.

It was extremely annoying.

"Right, well, don't make yourself at home." You shoved past your door and went to take your shoes off and hang up your coat. Winter was coming in full force and it was chilly out, not yet as cold as you would want it to be though. Bowen seemed to draw his breath in as he stepped into the entranceway, his eyes darting around as if he hadn't seen the inside of student accommodation before.

Your eyes trailed him as he wandered around, a harsh look growing on your face. With a heavy sigh you left him to his own devices, which was probably a bad idea. Instead you went to gather everything you needed for the project. As you did so your mind whirled around, why were you being paired with forensic students? The two courses had nothing to do with each other and yet here you were.

Your eyes narrowed, surely not... it wouldn't have anything to do with Bowen right? You had barely heard about him around university and if he was someone as influential as a dean's son then his name would surely be plastered all over the place. Maybe you didn't know as much about university administration as you thought, not all information can be gotten from reality shows after all.

Now with an armful of pens and paper you walked back into the loungeroom to see that Bowen had already taken a seat on the couch. In front of him was his own portfolio with all his documents scattered on the coffee table. In fact, the sight of all his stuff made the room feel more lived in. No one going to uni could afford any furniture anyway and you could only decorate with so many energy drink cans before it became pitiful.

"Ready to start." His voice was chipper, too chipper for an afternoon of intense project planning. His gaze was settled intently on your body, his cheeks were tinted a darker red. You squinted at him before giving in to your fate. The memory of how he seemed to turn cocky as soon as you tried to get away from him had never left your mind.

Obviously he wasn't harmless, his letters and his overall demeanour said as much. The way his personality flipped like a switch was concerning, the way he seemed to take pleasure in you hurting him was concerning, and the fact that he was in your house was concerning.

"Right... anyway, what's this project about?" A mumble left your mouth as you settled onto the couch next to him, your thigh brushing against his due to the small amount of space available. His breath seemed to catch for a moment before he composed himself.

"There's a list of things we have to do actually but the first one is to make an aged up depiction of a missing child." Bowen pulled a piece of paper from the pile in front of him and handed it over. Your lips pursed, you hadn't been given these instructions...

Before you looked at them in more detail you flicked through your own notebook and pulled out the package you had gotten when class had started.

"Oh no." A hiss escaped your mouth as you read over the title. This was less of a project together and more of a collaboration, like a give-and-take sort of thing. You'd help Bowen out with his descriptions and critical analysis while getting more drawing experience but on the other hand you'd... have to use Bowen as a model for your own coursework.

"How is this fair!" An exasperated groan left you as the urge to slam the papers onto the coffee table and shove him out of your apartment arose in you. With a shy shrug Bowen seemed to pull you out of your stupor. As much as you'd like to make him shut up it most likely wasn't his fault that he got assigned to you.

Or at least that was what you'd tell yourself to make this whole thing easier for you to swallow.

"Fine, let's get this over with so you can go home." A grumble left you as Bowen went to open his mouth, most likely to quip back at you. With a glare he seemed to go silent, his eyes darting away and back to his papers.

The initial part of the project seemed to be going well, Bowen would read off of a mixture of conflicting reports and deduce what was correct and what was a red herring. At the same time you'd sketch out what he was describing while also trying to make sure it didn't look like a hodgepodge mess.

For a moment you found yourself drifting off into your own world where it was just you and the idea of creating something beautiful. Then reality would slam you in the face whenever Bowen would open his mouth again. While you two were busy he seemed to really settle in, his body relaxing and melding with the cheap pillows you had brought.

As an afterthought you found yourself looking at him more and more. He wasn't unattractive, in fact he seemed to be quite handsome in a weird way. He had somehow managed to capture everything you liked about your celebrity crushes. The hair, the clothes and he had even accessorised in a way that you liked.

It was uncanny and highly uncomfortable, especially when you remembered this was the man that carried around a book full of your photos. As soon as your brain decided to remember that fact you felt repulsed by his company.

"Is something wrong?" He asked out of nowhere, while his face looked concerned you could see that he didn't really care about what you were feeling. In fact he looked like he wanted to provoke you into doing something stupid.

"Not at all but I think we should call it a night. It's getting dark out." At the moment all you wanted to do was get him out of your space He had made you feel too many emotions in one afternoon. Trepidation, annoyance, intrigue, lust... and then disgust.

"We're nearly...." You stood up abruptly and let your form hover over him. He seemed to grow smaller, a sick glint in his eyes sparked as he looked up at you from his eyelashes.

"Out." Like a carefully trained dog he got up off the couch and gathered his things in a haphazard mess before walking over to the door. A rush of arousal flooded through you, watching him bend to your whim like that...

You shook your head and went to open the door in order to guide him out but a piercing scream shocked your senses. Your hand tightened on the handle of the door as the sound of clattering and screaming continued from the space above you. Horrifically it seemed to grow closer and closer as you braced yourself on the door, uncertain as to what was happening.

At your side Bowen seemed to grit his teeth, his whole body locked up in alarm. In the next instant the screaming died down and the sounds of footsteps grew quieter. Sweat trickled down your brow as you pressed your ear to the door. It was silent outside.

With a deep breath you opened the door a crack and then some more until you had revealed the hallway outside your dorm. As you did so some of the other doors opened. A middle-aged student, the two best friends who held parties, the couple across the hallway from you... all of them were peering outside.

In the middle of the hallway was a girl covered liberally in blood, her clothes torn and her face set in a grimace as her muscles drooped.

She was dead.

[sangijazz]

Love MegaBytes - a Lovebug AU Stanley x shadow!Narrator fanfic

Chapter 4

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Notes:

She/they pronouns for the Curator

she/her pronouns for Mariella

Content Warnings:

-Mentions of the Zending

-Mentions of canon character death

-Mentions of canon depictions of suicide

-Slight emotional manipulation

In my opinion, everything is light enough but you can skip the paragraph which begins with "Secondly..."

----

From what he could gather from his limited experience and fabricated memories, Stanley found he always liked being held and holding someone. False pictures of him holding his wife’s hands after dining on their anniversary - when was it again?... Artificial flashes of holding a body close as they slept - the warmth of their skin, his head tucked on their chest, their calming breathing - who were them? The silly feeling of wanting to bite him to show how much he cared while they cuddled on the couch - where were they?

Stanley clenched its shoulders with trembling hands.

He knew these recollections had to be untrue, programmed into his mind since none of it were possible in the Parable. 

Were his hands sinking in?

The only other human, Mariela, made real clear she didn’t like being touched. The Narrator sometimes would allow hang-out sessions for everyone - they were always fun - in those, she would only rarely lean against him, which was fine by him, this showed she liked his presence. 

Or was the darkness crawling up to absorb them?

There were times Stanley would just hold the Bucket thing against his chest, their metallic body was no substitute for the warm skin of a human yet it was enough to comfort him for those moments of weakness - they always reassured him it was alright.

It didn’t matter right now. It didn’t matter if he was doomed. All that mattered was the shy touches it gave him as it let Stanley hold it.

Hands trailed up and down his spine, a head rested on his shoulder, even if the glasses made it uncomfortable. The man breathed in the scent which clung to its hair - black tea, books, and ink - this was how home would smell like…

This was how the Narrator would smell like– Shit.

Narrator. 

Stanley needed to help the Narrator.

The one on his lap, as if sensing where Stanley’s train of thought was going, pushed brutally the man away from itself and stood up.

Pink shades and engulfing black shadows - oh gods, no, step way NO–

The vessel came to wake with a halt, mouth gasping for air, eyes shooting open, and heart hammering against his ribs.

It took a moment for Stanley to calm down and notice his situation, eyes adjusting to the rose-tinted semi-darkness. Firstly, he was still in the Broom Closet, which was a boon since he could plan.

Secondly - fuck - his body hurt everywhere, feeling like he had been crushed or like he had fallen off a high place over and over and that was feelings Stanley was intimately familiar with. He blamed the cramped space; blamed the pretzel position he slept in, worsening his wounds; blamed that fucking virus for starting all of this.

He didn’t blame the Narrator, it was not itself. 

Slowly, he pushed himself to sit upright, every part of his model screaming in code of pain; he dealt with worse, stop complaining.

The third thing Stanley noticed, was the silence.

Had his eardrums really blown? The screeching couldn’t have been that bad… He took his hand to his left ear and snapped his finger as softly as he could yet loud enough for, hopefully, him to hear - Snap Snap. Instantly, relief flowed through his body and Stanley sighed with it, he hadn’t gone deaf, just hard of hearing, Stanley could work with that.

Even having just woken up, the avatar felt a great deal of exhaustion, but he had things to do, the Narrator needed him.

Game plan time.

From what he knew, the Parable wouldn’t function as well without the Narrator, so Stanley would have to really on auto triggers to get where he wanted. Programmers Gods, let them be enough. 

Also, he should try to check on everyone to see if they were affected by the malware and maybe get some allies. First, though, he had to lose this shadow (pun intended). Next reset, perhaps Stanley could somehow outrun it, since now he knew what to expect, he could grab Bucket in the way too.

The Curator should be the one he visits first. The Museum also was a safe zone, and its keeper would be a good ally to have since she seemed to be smart. They together would make a better plan. 

Step one planned, Stanley was determined now. 

The rest of the steps? A plan B? Hm…

Well, Stanley was never really the smart one from the pair.

Now, all he needed was to cause a reset.

The nearest restart was the Madness Ending, but this one would need the Narrator for that one. And being trapped in a never-ending loop with his insane stalker shadow, well, a smaller never-ending loop. This would be the same as just opening the door now and embracing the monster, where the avatar was sure he would meet a slow and torturous end, maybe not even an end, just continuous horrors, and fake love. Even if the entity forgets later, Stanley would never. Smashing his head with the wrench sounded like a better idea… Unless… he could use… it couldn’t hurt trying…

Narrator? Stanley thought louder than before and pressed his ear against the door. 

“S-Sta̵n̵҈ley?” a small broken voice was what answered back, like the other had been sobbing the whole time “Stanley! S̶t̷a̶҈-̶̸Stanley dear! I-I can’t see you. Please, c̵-come out, m̷y̷ d҈arlin҈g҉–”

“Come out, d҈e̸a̵r̶… Come out, l̵-̵l̸et me L̵̖͍͙͈͍͓̓͐̈́͑̆́͆̓͗̈́̓Ö̵̫̥̳̪̳͈̜̮̝̮̬̪͋̾̿͗̇͐V̴̠̪͚̘̪̦̫̳̦̠͕̥́͆̓͛͆̀͗͒͑͌̊E̵͎̮͖̜͐͑̉̓̈́͂̇̀̚ you.”

Sighing, Stanley shallowed dry and closed his eyes. How much he would give to hear that sentence from his Narrator?...

A lot. He would give everything.

“Please? Please d̴e҉a̵r̸, d̸-don't leave me to wait again...”

Oh, no. Don’t listen to it, Stanley. He was doing this for it. No skipping here. Never again.

 I need to help you.

“Help? Oh, my d̷a̴҈r̴̸l̷̵i̴̵n̴̷g̶̵~, I d̷̢͉̣҇͆̂o҉̖̝̊̕͢n҈̢̰͐̽͑͠ͅ'̶̧̛͎̗̭͋͐t̵̡͔̰̃̇͂̕ͅdon’td҉̡͠o̶҇͜n҉̡҇'̸̛͜t҉҇͜ need help, I just need Y̵̨͖̝̲͈͔͆̾͂̍͌͒͞O̴͍̗͍̗͑̇̄͊̇̍̌̕͜Ų̴̛̘̯̌͆~”

So, with his best charmed inner voice, he thought Let’s restart then! I want to see that surprise~ 

“Oh… yes. Yes! Of course!” the Narrator exclaimed like it hadn’t thought of this before, the change was obvious… There was hope in that voice and that Crushed Stanely’s core “Now, just a second, dear. Reseting of cour–”

[ExecuteCommand(Reset);]

THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER