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madelynraemunson · 8 months ago

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pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

part two here

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #older! eddie munson #older!eddie #older!eddie munson smut #older!eddie smut #dad’s best friend!eddie #dad’s best friend!eddie munson #dom!eddie #dom!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader smut

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timmydraker · 2 months ago

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Tim’s parents demand a meeting with Bruce and their son himself to discuss the future of their company and Tim’s place in it. Everyone knows they probably want to get in on Bruce’s wealth and business so they might be able to go from millionaires to billionaires like Bruce.

To everyone’s surprise, Tim accepts and says he’ll do it as long as Bruce will stay with him the entire time.

Obviously Dick refuses not to and Damian insist as the ‘true heir’, which makes Jason want to as well just cause he’s not being left out. Duke promises to stay out of it and keep the girls busy so Tim doesn’t feel cornered or smothered in worry.

So, Bruce and his three sons sit on the meeting with Bruce doing most do the talking and Tim sitting on a chair with his brothers all keeping eyes on him.

Jack and Janet try to give pleasantries to their son but he just stared at them, a blank look that even Bruce can’t decipher if only because he’s never seen it before.

Jack does most of the talking, explaining that Tim still has a set aside amount of many and place in the company but that it’s only there because he’s kept the family name. They explain that they would be happy for Tim to take the Wayne name as long as their son gives up his legal place in the company and hands over his personal funds they gifted him willingly.

They subtly explain that they want him to continue to work with the as he works with WE extremely well, and that they could possibly become partners.

Tim would still be the co-CEO of WE as well as COF for Drake Industries but he must… ‘donate’ money to them regularly as a show of good partner ship.

Bruce is furious that they just want money and haven’t acknowledged their son or the fact that he just turned eighteen, but he remains calm and after almost twenty minutes of talking Dick cuts them all off.

“Perhaps-we could ask Tim himself what he thinks of this offer.”

The growing tension both settles and raises as everyone turns to Tim who is sitting like a statue.

He looks like he could be dissociating but there’s a distinct presence in his eyes like he doesn’t want to miss a single word or second.

Jack sits back and gives Tim a stern look, “Well, son? What do you say?”

Tim speaks in the same voice Bruce has heard him talk to clients he doesn’t like, “I’ll accept, I’ll even give my earnings from the company.” Just as Jack and Janet begin to look smug and his family members look shocked he adds, “on one condition.”

Janet looks at him like he’s the most vile creature ever and covers it with a forced smile as Alfred pours more tea for her as a means to appease the clearly nasty woman.

Everyone waits for Tim to state his condition but none of them are ready for when he looks his parents each in the eye and says in the calmest, most level voice the most shocking sentence nace they have ever heard from both Tim and Red Robin:

“I want you to kill yourselves.”

…

No one speaks.

Jason and Dick look genuinely afraid, Damian looks taken aback though not nearly as shocked as Bruce is with his jaw hanging low.

Alfred for the first time in his life serving the Waynes spills tea and looks at Tim in a way that shows he is genuinely aghast.

Janet and Jack are frozen looking at their son like he’s a different person, which is funny as that implies they knew he was before.

Tim doesn’t smile or gloat, he does nothing to suggest his words were one big joke or last ‘fuck you’ to them.

He sits still and patient, waiting for an answer.

Janet opens her mouth several times to speak but never gets any words out though Jack manages to get over his shock and fury crosses his face. He opens his mouth, most likely to yell or berate his son but Tim beats him to it.

“It’s your choice. I’ve said all I want, so kill yourself or leave.”

Tim picks up his own tea and watches as Jack and Janet storm out of Wayne Manner.

Silence prevails for a while with none of the family talking until Damian breaks the silence, “Holy shit.”

#tim drake #batfam #bat family #dc comics #tim drake is red robin #batfamily #tim drake is a menace #dc universe #dc #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #janet and jack drake #tim drake centric

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oikasugayama · 11 months ago

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YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 2

MDNI, this is NSFW content for adults!!

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Fukuzawa

ok this one you did NOT expect. you've seen dazai get a hard-on at work, you've heard junichiro and naomi (NOT siblings though they grossly pretend to be) talking about their sex plans after work, but YOUR BOSS? THE PRESIDENT??

he's in his office palming his boner through his clothes when you open the door. you come in like always, using your shoulder to hold the door open as you turn and come in backwards so that the tray of tea you're holding doesn't get knocked over by thumping against the door.

you're almost across the room to his desk by the time you realize that there's a VERY DISTINCT tent in his yukata that he can't decide if he should push down with his hand or not--either way it's obvious that he's hard.

his face is flushed, he's shocked, embarrassed, and extremely apologetic.

you're frozen for a moment, but when he says your name and "i'm so sorry" you decide to pretend like you don't see anything. you put the tray down on his desk, pour him a cup of tea, and tell him to page for you if he needs anything.

you close the door behind you and have to take a moment to gather yourself. he's your boss so there's absolutely no way you were about to come onto him, but god he's so kind and handsome and his deep voice is just so fucking hot. you feel like a creep being there while he was trying to have a private moment, but he was at work, he should have known better than to touch himself when you were scheduled to bring his afternoon tea-- wait, did he do it on purpose? should you go back in? no. no he wouldn't have done that. it must have been an accident.

you tell yourself it must have been an accident and go back to work like nothing happened, though it's all you can think about all day.

Kunikida

he desperately needs to relieve stress after an incredibly tiresome and busy week. he just got back to his dorm, looking forward to two days off work. he wastes no time settling onto his couch, cracking open his laptop, and playing a random porn video (it helps him get the job done more efficiently because watching makes him cum faster)

he uses earbuds so he doesn't disturb his neighbors, unfortunately this means that while he's in the midst of it he doesn't hear you unlocking his door (he gave you the key for emergencies because you're responsible--you occasionally drop groceries off to him if you're making a trip out and he needs something, much like is happening right now)

you open the door and there he is, vest and shirt unbuttoned, pants and boxers pulled down just enough to get his cock out. one hand works over his length steadily while the other cups his balls. you gasp and drop the bag of groceries, turning and slamming the door closed behind you.

his eyes were closed, though, so he didn't notice until the slam of the door echoed past the sound of the video he watches. when he sees the bag on the ground he immediately knows what must have happened and he's so fucking embarrassed that he feels sick. he hopes you don't think he did it on purpose; he couldn't have known you would come over right now.

he tries to go to your dorm a few hours later, but you don't answer when he knocks, and you don't respond to his texts all weekend.

on monday in the ADA office he waits until you're the only two in the room, then he quietly approaches you and says he owes you an apology.

"for what?" you ask, playing dumb.

"i suspect that when you came by my dorm to drop something off you may have seen me doing something inappropriate. i sincerely apologize that you had to see that. i had no idea you would be coming over."

you take a few seconds to think of what to say, but eventually settle on "it's not inappropriate to touch yourself, kunikida. you're an adult, you can do what you want in your own home"

he blushes deeply, feeling warm all the way to his toes.

"that may be so, but regardless, i apologize that you had to see it. i hope we can forget about this soon."

"oh, I'll never forget," you say wistfully, turning away in your spinny chair. "it's burned into my eyes. every time i close them, there you are......."

Dazai

he's on the roof of the ADA building, lying in the middle instead of near the edge. he's staring up at the sky, pondering how small he is in such a vast universe.

and then he gets a random surprise boner and thinks, well i might as welllll.......

you were downstairs working when kunikida asked you to find dazai and make him go back to work. dazai tended to listen to you, after all.

you checked all of his usual spots--the couch, under his desk, under atsushi's desk, in the supply closet, in the cafe downstairs, and finally you went to the roof, hoping he wasn't sitting a hair's width from the edge again like he was the last time you found him up there.

when you open the door, you first notice that he's spread out on the ground with his head turned away from you and think maybe he's passed out--then you notice his hips buck up into his hand and his back arch up a little.

the wind carries the sound of his voice over to you, and you swear he just said your name.

"dazai?" you say meekly, and his head whips to the side, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you. he sits up quickly, turning away from you, using his coat to cover his crotch.

"um... kunikida... he wanted me to find you."

"...okay... please don't tell him what I was doing."

"I really, genuinely won't."

"...okay... do you, um... are you, um... did you hear what i, uh.. what i said when you... got here..."

"yeahhh..."

"shit..."

"hm... i didn't know you were into me, honestly," you say, shrugging.

"oh, yeah," dazai says, feeling very vulnerable since you caught him with his literal pants down. "ranpo told, like, everyone. i'm surprised you didn't, um... you didn't know?"

"no, i didn't know... i think you're cute, for what it's worth."

"oh?"

"yeah. you know, maybe we could talk about this another time? i don't feel like this is the most appropriate setting for this conversation."

"agreed... wait, so you're not, like, gonna run to HR or something, or-- i have a chance?"

"yeah, you have a chance. you're a fucking disaster, though..." you turn back to the door, but throw one more sentence over your shoulder. "oh, and dazai, you know we don't have an HR department."

#bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai smut #dazai headcanons #bungo stray dogs headcanons #fukuzawa x reader #fukuzawa smut #fukuzawa headcanons #kunikida x reader #kunikida smut #kunikida headcanons #mdni #i live for DISASTER dazai

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millersfinest · 16 days ago

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pluto and charon | e.w

astrophysicist!ellie & aerospace engineer!reader

wc: 4k

blurb: there’s a new planet that formed in the milky way galaxy—and it’s dr. ellie williams’ (and a few research assistant’s) job to prove that life can exist on it. oh, and you’re the second opinion there to back her up and steer the ship (whether she likes you or not). but, when a sector of the shuttle malfunctions, locking the two of you inside… what will two analytical scientist do to fix it? was it a dignified sign from the cosmos?

warnings: nothing much, vulgar language, enemies to lovers (?)

note: ellie loves space, so i wanted to write her as an astronaut—please, enjoy! i haven’t written anything in awhile so…. had to get this off my mind.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

The thick sound of silence and machinery crowded the ears of everyone on board. It had been approximately one hundred and twenty-five earth hours since you have taken off from the ground—to and through the stratosphere. The ship was in autopilot, cruising through the nothingness of the milky way; passing whirling planets and asteroids that shied away from prying eyes.

This wasn’t your first time estranged from earth. It was your second. But there was no feeling like floating in metal that you concocted—stitched together with wires, buttons, and joysticks. You marveled at the large windows that displayed your universe just as enthusiastically as the research assistants on board.

Jackson’s planet was where you were headed. Previously named, J-74.

Through many study sessions and research assignments, it has been theorized that it could withstand human life. Earth’s depletion of resources has been making it difficult to live—for average people. With the atmosphere rapidly thinning, livestock, farming, and health sustainability has been dramatically decreasing.

There needed to be an intervention—and Dr. Williams was the one to jump start it.

You have been working off and on with her since your early years at NASA. Initially, the two of you came in as forthright interns who were too smart for their own good—arguing every chance you got because you both wanted the same thing; to see what space looked like from space. Not from a camera or laptop or extreme telescope.

Eventually, you split into separate fields and concentrations. It was engineering that began to pique your interest. You worked hard to curate materials that could withstand dramatic changes in temperatures and weather. Still studying planets and galaxies, but with a distinct perspective.

The space shuttle was made for damage—only certifying the safety of the mission. There was very little risk traveling to Jackson’s planet.

You couldn’t decipher if it was morning, noon, or night, but you just couldn’t stay asleep. Checking the watch on your wrist you have only been asleep for three hours. How puzzling. Typically, you sleep well in silence and whirring, but it was different this time. The sounds prickled under your skin, pulling you from the absorbing mattress in your sleeping quarters.

Finding your way toward the center of the shuttle, you used a key card to enter each sector. A ziplock of dried fruit was pinched between your fingers—reaching inside every few minutes for a bite. Wanting to estimate time of arrival, you navigated toward the flight deck. A pair of dark sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose to dim the fluorescent lights.

Shuffling your feet against the floor, you slipped into chair of the pilot seat. There were many screens and buttons before you. All bright in different colors and hues—blinking. However, you focused on the screen that determined the path of the shuttle. It showed the ship following a dotted green line, with the time in the far-right corner. Six hours.

Time of arrival was only a few hours out. You were almost at the very planet you’ve been studying for the past two years. A tired smile stretched onto your lips, leaning back in the cushioned chair.

In the comfort of silence, you watch the celestial bodies minding their own through the three panel windows. Legs folded up, comfortably. You were currently passing Pluto and Charon. There were four other moons of Pluto, but Charon was the largest. And even bigger up close.

The coolest thing about the pair was that they always shared a face. There wasn’t a time where they weren’t looking at each other—scientifically, it was called mutual tidal locking.

“I didn’t think you’d be up…” A raspy voice muttered from behind your chair. She must’ve heard you crunching on your dried raspberries.

Turning around, you noticed her walking toward the co-pilot chair with a yellow notepad in her hands. Her gray NASA jumpsuit was tied around her waist, exposing the white, ribbed tank top she had on. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d kill some time up here.” You responded, watching as she sat down.

“What’s our ETA?” Her green eyes focus on the destination screen.

“Oh-eight hundred— we have six hours left of travel.” You pushed the glasses above your head, eyes glancing at the screen. “Raspberries?” Holding the ziplock toward her, you offered.

Ellie shook her head, clicking the pen in her hands. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged, zipping it tight before placing in the crevice of the chair. She quietly scribbled on the yellow pages—her thick eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

The other moons of Pluto came into your line of sight. They weren’t all close on your path, but Hydra and Nix made a clear appearance. Their shapes were not as circular as Charon; they were like any other moon on any other planet.

She hummed to herself, clicking her pen in thought. “Can you check this equation for me? I’ve been thinking about this since we boarded The Firefly…” Ellie hands the notepad to you. “It’s an estimation of sustainable oxygen and energy— if Jackson’s planet doesn’t provide us with enough… How much can we manually create for it to be habitable?”

It was your turn to hum in thought. Dragging your finger along the inked lines of her equation, you sucked your teeth. The numbers appeared to be correct—Ellie was always good at the math part of theory. “This seems about right, but we can only theorize so much.” You begin. “The only way we can thoroughly verify this equation is by settling on Jackson—running physical tests.” You hand the notepad back to her. “We need specificity, not estimation.”

“I’m just making sure that we’re prepared.” She grumbled.

“We are prepared, Ellie. If we have too many hypotheses, it may confuse our students… Overwhelm them.”

She pressed her lips into a line, averting her eyes toward the three panel windows. You could feel her level of irritation rise, as she adjusted in her seat. The ship was slipping past Pluto and Charon, leaving the bodies in your wake. “Do you have to challenge everything that I say?” Ellie muttered, leaning her chin on her fist with a pinched expression.

You deepened your eyebrows. “I don’t challenge everything you say… You asked for my opinion.”

“On the equation!” She whisper-yelled, pinching the bridge of her nose to calm herself. “Not your opinion on how to teach my students.”

“Our students—“ You corrected, but she abruptly cut you off by standing to her feet.

Scoffing, she ran her fingers through her choppy auburn strands. Rolling your eyes, you watched as she threw an adult tantrum. Ellie’s capacity for managing her emotions has never changed; she’s always been angsty and easily frustrated. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him— I should have chosen someone else for this mission.” She tossed her notepad onto a table, shaking her head.

With that, you stand up. Leaning your arm against the back of the pilot seat. “Oh, yeah? Who?” You squinted your eyes, condescendingly. “Jerry the fucking receptionist? So, you can feel intellectually superior enough to feel good about yourself?” Raising an eyebrow, you chortle. “Wow, Dr. Williams… Didn’t know you could stoop so low.”

“Fuck off…” She sucked her teeth, shaking her head, dismissively.

“Gladly!” You snatched the bag of dried fruit from your chair, before stomping toward the sliding mechanical door. Before raising your key card to the receiver, turned toward her one last time. “This isn’t just about your findings. It takes a team's effort for a mission like this to succeed. Challenges foster discovery— even if I’m the one doing it.” You wave your card over the receiver, the door releasing air as it slid open. “See you in few hours…” And back to your sleeping quarters you went.

It was difficult, but you managed to get four extra hours of sleep after that little argument. Typically, bickering with Ellie lasted more than just a few minutes, but you’ve matured—you’d like to think. Times have changed, and you were in space; you were working. There was no time for petty, egotistical arguments. Even so, you couldn’t help but wonder why you ground her gears so bad. Yet, somehow, she was always around you—orbiting you like the beautiful celestial bodies you know and love. Was she stuck in a gravitational pull—unable to flee? Or was she fully conscious?

Two hours until Jackson’s planet arrival!

The automated voice announced over the intercom. Which pulled everyone on board from their own devices—whether that was sleeping or exercising. The classes you and Ellie taught were basically conjoined; two in one. So, each of you had your own research assistant that tagged along on this mission. But they both worked for the both of you— you were their supervisors.

However, for some reason, Ellie’s assistant appeared to be distant from yours. Allan was his name. When everyone met at the breakfast table, there was a quietness in the room that felt unfamiliar. Usually, Allan and Sophia, your assistant, would be filling the room with casual chatter. About their personal lives. This morning was drastically different. Scraping your plastic fork against the plate, playing with your powdered eggs, you glared at Ellie. “Dr. Williams, how old are you again?”

“Dr. Jones, isn’t it disrespectful to ask a woman her age—?”

“Thirty-one, right?” The legs of your chair screeched against floor as you stood up. Taking your plate, you toss the food into the trash bin. Scoffing, you use your key card to leave the eating area. You navigated toward the flight deck to guide the ship the rest of the way. Flicking off the autopilot switch and taking ahold of the joystick. For as long as you’ve known her, you never thought she’d stoop as low as admitting to choosing another for the job.

You’ve never done anything to Ellie for her to be so adamant about being a pain in the ass. Academically, you rivaled each other, but that was it. At least, that’s what you thought.

In the distance you could see the blue-green planet ahead. Looking like the long-lost sister of Earth. You mused at the sight, grinning to yourself. That was what you were here for.

The sound of air puffing from the sliding door leading to the flight deck, caught your attention. For a moment, you thought it was Ellie, but a much softer voice called your name. “Dr. J,”

It was Sophia wandering into the room. “Tense morning, huh?” She raised her slender eyebrows, taking a seat in the copilot chair. You jutted your eyebrows in response. “I thought it’d be more enthusiastic considering we’re almost there…” Her light eyes glanced toward the three-panel window, glimmering with excitement.

“You and me both.” You responded, dryly.

A beat passed between the two of you. Sophia awkwardly rocking in the chair. “I can’t help but ask— what’s going on between you and Dr. Williams?” She questioned, softly. “I’ve seen you guys' bicker before but…” She dragged on, hoping you’d respond before she rambled.

You sigh, glancing at her. “We’re just having a disagreement. That’s all.” You swallowed, clenching your jaw. Keeping the relationship between you and your student professional, you change the subject. “We’re nearing Jackson. I suggest you suit up and start taking notes on what you see as we approach. Meaning asteroids, moons— anything.”

“Copy that.” Sophia quickly got up, to leave the flight deck.

Focusing, within the next hour you enter the atmosphere of the planet. The ship shuttering through turbulent clouds and temperatures. The ground resembled the dirt of Mars, just darker and muddier. The ship released stilts to prop itself on the ground of Jackson. With a hopeful sigh, she jumped from her seat. Going to slip into her protective suit and helmet. The whistling of heavy winds sounded against the ship, rocking it slightly.

You met the rest of the group in the airlock. Allan was about to press the button to shut the door into the hall—locking them out with an airtight seal. But Ellie stopped him with a wave of her gloved hand. “Your suits not zipped up all the way. Turn around.” She told you, gesturing with her hand for you to turn. Her voice echoing in your helmet, you do as she says; as it’s a safety concern. But you were still annoyed with her—and you were sure that she was still annoyed with you.

She zipped up the back, latching it with a metal button. Ellie even made sure that your helmet was sealed and secure. You grabbed your pack, swinging it onto your back. Then began locking everything into place with buckles and latches. “Thanks…” You muttered, barely sparing her a glance. “Allan, the door.”

He glanced at Sophia with eyes you couldn’t read, before pressing the button. The airlock sealed, puffs of air releasing from the hinges.

The hatch creaked as it fell open, hitting the ground with a thud. The assistants marveled, stepping toward the threshold. You and Ellie mirroring them, approaching where they stood. The morning sky’s were clear and blue. With the reflection of two, perfectly circular moons in view. Allan turned around, looking at his main supervisor.

“It’s your mission— you should be the first to step foot on it.”

Ellie smiled through her helmet, glancing at you, briefly. You didn’t spare her much of a glance, you just rocked on your feet. She should be lucky she has such supportive students.

“I think its just as much as Dr. Jones’ mission as it is Dr. Williams’.” Sophie spoke up, lifted her eyebrows. “If it weren’t for Dr. J… We wouldn’t have The Firefly; I think they both should go. Together.”

“Holding hands…”

You put your hand up, scrunching your eyebrows. “All right, that’s enough.” Rolling your eyes, you chuckled, dryly. “We can go together… If you don’t mind.”

Ellie shrugged. “It takes a team’s effort to succeed…” She held out her gloved hand.

Sighing, you took her hand. She held onto your gloved hand, gently, pulling you toward the hatch. The wind whistled, nearly blowing the two of you over, but when your feet jumped into the mud—the assistants cheered. “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind!” Ellie exclaimed, swinging your arm, unintentionally.

You meet her eyes, laughing at the reference. “Be original.” You playfully, jested. Turning back to the team. “Let’s begin our testing— shall we?”

The team was out there for hours with test tubes collecting matter of different forms. You grabbed bites of temperature and took notes of the environment. The assistants diligently worked—doing exactly what they were told. Ellie kept her distance from you, but never forgot to spare you a glance every now and then. Pretending not to notice, you kept to your work. Walking in and out of the shuttle, collecting data. Trying not to mind it one bit.

Fatigue began to rain over everyone—including yourself. Despite your incessant need to prove otherwise. It was reaching twenty-one hundred; it was past their bedtime. Allan and Sophia had grabbed the supplies propped outside, bringing them back into the shuttle. They were the last touch the ground for the evening. But, you and Ellie had been hibernating inside the shuttle running chemical tests on the matter collected.

A makeshift dinner was prepared by the leading astrophysicist as a prized delight. She was proud with how hard everyone worked—giving the pep talk of a lifetime. Her influential words were really meant for your students. You even added a few supportive statements to hers. Applauding their work. Then, eating ensued; chowing down on the blandest food known to mankind.

It was not long before half the crew went to bed. You disappeared into the comms room to film the first scientific update of Jackson’s planet. The sliding door shutting with a smooth sss sound. In your hand, you held a personal vial of the dirt you found. With pieces of rocks and, what you could only assume to be, grass stuffed into the top. White scotch tape labeled the small glass: J-74.

There was a small television screen built into the wall. Touch screen. With a little camera at the top center of the shape. You pressed the screen until the recording option came up. Clearing your throat, you started by saying the date and time, then your name. “We just finished day one on Jackson’s planet— it was a busy day.” You held up the vial of dirt, shaking it around. “But it was well worth it.” A grin stretched across your face.

“The team has loads of research ahead— thank God for Allan and Soph; they’ve already made this trip easier— but the odds are looking up.” You nod, continuing. “Jackson just might be everything that we need for our survival. Just like Dr. Williams anticipated.”

Sss!

The door opened, revealing the auburn-haired academic. “Shit-talking me in the comms room?” Ellie raised an eyebrow as she entered. But, upon noticing your filming, she paused in her steps. Cursing to herself. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” She cursed herself, again, for swearing on company file. Her notepad was glued to her hand—as per usual.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear.” You chortle after glancing over your shoulder at the woman. “Dr. J, signing off.” Ceasing the recording, you swiveled around in your rolling stool. Ellie wandered around the room with a nervous aura. Bending the notepad back and forth. “I hope you’re not wanting my opinion on another equation… I’m on too much of a high to bicker tonight.”

Ellie chuckled, dryly. “Not this time. I actually wanted to apologize for this morning.” She inhaled, stiffly. “I was unprofessional— you’re the best this team has; I could never replace you—“

“Okay, I get it. Apology accep—“

“Let me finish!” She held up a hand. You blinked with a slightly surprised expression, pursing your lips. “I could never replace you nor would I want to” Ellie paced the floor before you. “And, yes, it was very childish for me to ask Allan to take a vow of silence when communicating with Sophia and you. That was wrong. But, in his defense, he argued me down about it…” She rambled, messing with her hair, notebook, fingers—everything to busy herself.

This may have been the first time that she has ever thoroughly apologized. Usually, the two of you let the frustration from arguments simmer; then, eventually talk to each other. “Where’s Ellie Williams and what have you done with her?” You joked, standing to your feet. She was a nervous person, but never this nervous. “Seriously, it’s fine. No hard feelings— we do this all the time.”

You move to leave the room, pressing your key card against the receiver. That familiar puffing of air doesn’t sound—the door doesn’t open. The light flashes red. Deepening your eyebrows, you try again. Ellie watches you, intently. Her lips parted, wanting to speak. The focus on you breaks when she realizes she can’t leave either. “Let me try.”

She waves her card, and it flashes red. You swear, stepping backwards, in thought. Was it the high winds? When you built The Firefly, you made sure to consider every possibility externally. Did you really forget about the smaller details—like doors? You weren’t the only one working on this contraption, so this issue couldn’t have been on you. “Have there been any complications in any of the other sectors of the shuttle?” You asked.

“Uhm, not that I know of— I haven’t had any problems.”

“So, it’s just this one… Hm.” You hum, feeling the gears of the door. Bracing your hand on the part of the door that opens, you attempt to pry it open with your hands. Grunting, using most of your strength. Sighing, you look at the woman next to you—gawking. “Are gonna stand there or are you gonna help me?” You exhaled. “You must want to be locked in here with me.”

She jumped to action, tossing her notebook aside to try to pry open the door. “To be honest, I’m not complaining…” Ellie muttered to herself. But she was close enough for you to hear.

Abruptly, you stopped pulling. “What?” Your eyebrows deepened, placing your hands on your hips. “What did you just say?” You questioned, gently. Confusion written along the faint fine lines across your face. Ellie pressed her lips into a line, stepping back from the door as well.

“I have a confession.”

“A confession? Am I being punked?”

She crossed her arms. “Do you seriously think I’m incapable of being nice to you?”

You shrugged, pursing your lips. “For longer than ten minutes… Yeah, I find it a little hard to believe.” Ellie scoffed, dropping her hands at her side. She began to pace, again, but in a different way. Leaving a trail of frustration and irritation in her path. “Ellie, we’ve been butting heads since we met. Excuse me for being a little surprised at the word confession.”

The scientist looked over her shoulder, partially glaring. “Did you ever consider why we bump heads so much?”

You cleared your throat, awkwardly. “Uhm, you hate that I’m smarter than you.” You chortle, but she doesn’t laugh. “Kidding.”

Swiveling around, her freckled cheeks were as red as a tomato. “Ellie, I’m kidding.” You tried, approaching her slowly, remorsefully. You’ve never seen her this way before. Her foresty eyes were glistening and wide like she wanted to cry. Placing a hand on her bare arm, you felt her muscles flinch. “You’re probably the only person at work that actually meets my intellect— maybe even exceeds it at times.”

“Pluto and Charon.” Ellie mumbles, examining your features. Overthinking the feeling of your hand on her bicep.

“What about them?”

“Do you think Pluto always noticed Charon?”

You thoughtfully averted your eyes, but your fingers remained against her warm skin. “She’s so large, I doubt Pluto didn’t always notice Charon. How could she miss her? I mean, they share a face.”

A beat passed between the two of you, leaving room for you to finally understand. Were you that stupid? The most remarkable thing about you was your intellect. So, you wondered, how this could slip by so easily? Ellie had to frame her words in a way that you’d understand. Astronomy.

“Oh.” Your hand drifted up her arm, over her bones shoulder, resting lightly over her trapezius. “Ellie… You have a thing for me?”

She tries to brush your hand off her skin because she was beginning to feel claustrophobic. But, you resist, taking her other hand in yours. Perhaps, you never fully thought about it—drowning yourself in your work. However, when you do think about it, you loved working with her. Even if that meant arguing and bickering every few minutes. At least you got to be around her; seeing her pretty freckled face for hours at a time. Watching her eyebrows twitch in thought as she solved equations.

“Don’t shy away from me now.” Your hand reached to cup her cheek; drawing comforting lines across her skin. Pluto always noticed Charon. It was natural for them to be in each others orbit—stuck like glue.

Despite her nerves, Ellie’s hands found solace at your hips before she leaned in for your lips. You pushed your body against hers, wrapping your arms around her neck; somehow wanting her closer. Her lips were soft and slow moving against yours—melting with passion and warmth. You could tell that she yearned for you, unlocking a part of you that yearned for her. Slowly, the kiss intensified. Ellie’s hands clenched at your tank top, slipping her fingers under the hem.

While your skin was being set aflame by her touch, you pulled away. Eyeing her with glimmers of lust in your irises. “This is great, uhm, but we’re still stuck in the comms room…” Your brushed hair from her face. “I don’t want the entirety of Houston to see or hear what we’re doing.”

“We’re not doing anything…” She smirked, keeping your hips flush to hers.

“Right.” You grin. “Let’s wake the assistants.”

The two of you separated, hesitantly. Ellie reached for the intercom button, but when you both heard giggling from the other side of the door—all movements ceased.

“Those little assholes.”

The cosmos.

#🪅#millersfinest #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #lgbtq

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handweavers · 3 months ago

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being born outside of the west the reality that everyone who lives everywhere is a full person in the way that me and my family are people, and that all the names on a globe are all 'real places' where people live always felt like an obvious given to me, to the point where even as a kid going to primary school in canada i remember finding it like profoundly bizarre and alienating that all the kids around me didnt have that understanding already and the way that they would be so cruel and insensitive upon finding out i wasn't born in canada was viscerally upsetting, even teachers would treat me differently and i would get this even from canadian born nonwhite kids which i just couldn't comprehend. a sensation i'll never forget is being in like 2nd grade and being one of the only people to raise their hand when the teacher asked if anyone here was born outside canada and just the way i was treated like an alien and not in a good way, a distinct feeling of everyone in the room thinking there is something fundamentally different about me in a negative sense and i just couldn't understand it. the kind of myopic chauvinism that gets ingrained in people from such a young age by the culture felt upsetting to me, even though i didn't have the words to explain why or what exactly i was experiencing because i was literally 7. like i knew the rest of the world was real and normal because i'm from there. that should be a given, a basic assumption, and it not being one in the west is Not representative of a 'universal' mistake that everyone on earth makes but rather of a jingoistic eurocentric ideology that is taught from an extremely young age

#like i dont know how to tell you that most people in the world know that other countries are real #including people with limited education in heavily exploited countries. because its a given #the fact that it isnt a given in the west is a specific phenomenon

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weirdwonderfulworld · 7 months ago

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and on steven............. i can't even express how gross it felt to see the ways people reached to ruin his name and abuse him online. demonic behavior.

i didn't start watching watcher bc of steven, i'm gonna be honest. but his content, character, and yes, his mere influence on the company is one of the biggest reasons watcher came to be one of my favorite youtube channels.

i fell in love with steven and his content through dish granted, the way he poured in all his creative effort and know-how so that he could give his friends and loved ones a special, personalized, larger-than-life meal. i thought it was so sweet, and that show is actually one my favorites on the channel.

i still remember how impressed i was to hear steven had proposed to his now-wife with a lab-grown diamond ring, bc he intentionally wanted something more sustainable.

i remember steven's speech for his unforgettable gala award, the way he listed out the asian content creators who came before him, who shaped the space and influenced him. he carried himself with humility, respect, and reverence for the past, and i thought it was extremely admirable.

i remember the "making watcher" episode where shane and ryan outright said that steven was the reason for watcher's survival. how steven stepped up to handle the business side of things when nobody else could. of course the guy isn't a businessman. he's a creative. but he stepped away from his own passions to make sure their company could stay afloat.

and did you notice how many employees at watcher are asian? these folks are damn talented, damn good at their jobs. i don't have direct proof of this, but i just know that steven had a hand in making watcher an incredibly safe and inclusive place to work for asian folks and other minorities. and as an asian viewer, i could feel that influence in the videos. i can feel the care watcher takes to make inclusive content, to make content that feels like the people behind it care. for watcher, "asian" isn't a buzzword someone slaps onto a video to make it sound interesting. it's cultural, it's natural, it's loving. i can't explain it but i feel that distinction and it carries the same exact energy steven does in his videos.

so it was incredibly wild and surreal to have fans try their best to tear all of that down, because he misspoke in the announcement video and... he drives a tesla? i don't even have to touch on that because people know how inconsequential that is to the matter at hand. i don't know how else to make you believe that steven driving a tesla is not an indication of him being evil or an immoral level of wealthy. like be for fucking real, please.

i have never felt so disconnected with this community than i did watching people attack steven for business decisions made by multiple grown-ass people. i will never look at this community the same way i did before. i know all this time, people were jumping for a reason to villainize steven. and nobody can convince me i don't know why.

#watcher #discourse #thoughts #steven

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powdermelonkeg · 10 months ago

Note

Archwizard Gale lore???

Okay, SO! My personal headcanons for Gale's powers, both as archwizard and Chosen of Mystra, are based upon the following:

D&D makes a distinction between "archmage" and "archwizard," with the former being a spellcaster dedicated to the arcane arts and either: the counsel of royalty, a lich tyrant, or a reclusive hermit, all with multiple apprentices, and the latter being "an arcane spellcaster of extremely high power who successfully claimed a floating enclave," that specification coming from the time of Netheril.

Gale is NOT royal counsel, NOT pursuing lichdom, NOT a hermit (willingly), does NOT have apprentices when he first makes the claim, and does NOT have a floating enclave.

Despite these, he still claims "archwizard" as a title. This is significant, especially from Waterdeep, where the most powerful wizards in the world gather, including Laeral Silverhand (another of Mystra's Chosen, immortal to a degree, and Open Lord of Waterdeep) and Vajra Safahr (current Blackstaff and Archmage of Waterdeep).

Bonus points for his significance, he is Gale of Waterdeep. His personally chosen moniker marks him as outstanding among Waterdhavians. There might be a handful of people named Gale in Waterdeep, but there is only one Gale of Waterdeep. This is further backed up by Lorroakan recognizing him, with his only reason for Gale being lesser than someone who supposedly figured out immortality being that Gale was Mystra's discarded lapdog.

Gale is skilled in all manner of magic. This is confirmed directly in his epilogue, where you can question him about his choice teaching the School of Illusion, and he says that he wanted to teach ALL the classes there, but the staff told him no. That includes schools you wouldn't normally associate with him, like Divination and Necromancy.

Based on all of that, I've decided that "archwizard," as Gale means it, is a term referring to a wizard who's multiclassed into all their subclasses.

Does this make him overpowered? Yes. But he's an archwizard, prodigy, and Chosen, he's MEANT to be within the bounds of his own lore.

In addition, I also believe him to be an untrained Storm Sorcerer, based upon the following:

Sorcerers and wizards differ in that sorcerers know magic intrinsically, while wizards study it to use it.

When talking to Halsin as Origin Gale, you can tell him that as a baby, you summoned a whole pack of rabbits. Presumably, baby Gale was NOT reading and comprehending arcane textbooks.

Gale has an intrinsic understanding of the Weave, by his own admission, saying he could compose it rather than just control it. He was also casting third level spells like Fireball at eight years old.

Gale's theme is all about storms: his name is Gale, he occasionally says "A rough tempest I will raise" in combat, almost all his official art has him controlling lightning, and his robe is thunder purple. This continues into God!Gale's design, where he has literal glowing lightning bolts framing his eyes, and his outfit is lightning blue.

K'ha'ssji'trach'ash: On his own, the mephit is pretty self-contained; it's a magma mephit capable of revealing the true form of a True Ressurection scroll. However, the key to getting him to do this is to respond to the question "what is my name" in Ignan with the correct answer. After which, K'ha'ssji'trach'ash says "T'i n'uthrantha m'ahthra Gale." We don't know what this means, but it's clear that he's talking to us, about Gale, possibly thanking us or asking us to pass a message along. This implies that he doesn't speak Common, or else he would, because we answered correctly. Why do I bring this up? Storm Sorcerers have an innate ability called Wind Speaker, which allows them to speak Primordial (including Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran). Thus, Gale can speak to/understand K'ha'ssji'trach'ash, despite his known/studied languages being Common, Celestial, Giant, and Draconic.

Because he's untrained, and rather than Storm Sorcery being just a Lv1 flavor bit that does little, I've decided that Gale has access to the class features of Storm Sorcery without access to its spell slots or Metamagic, that way it's reflective of his power without training.

With both of these conclusions, both archwizard and sorcerer, I've decided to pick and choose which class features are from which iteration of both classes, because BG3 and official D&D have a few key differences that were mostly changed for gameplay reasons. I've then taken those and added more flavor to them, based on the already-given flavor of D&D and effects of BG3, doing away with the mechanical side of things for storytelling reasons.

On top of this, because the maximum level you can reach in BG3 is Lv12, and we know that the Orb consumes "the greatest of [his] talents," I've decided that the Orb consumes any ability beyond Lv12 until its removal.

That being said, beyond whatever spells and slots you care to give him, the powers I think Gale has pre-tadpole are:

Abjuration

Arcane Ward: When Gale casts Abjuration spells, residual magic shields him from the worst of incoming hits

Projected Ward: Gale can extend Arcane Ward to someone nearby instead of himself

Improved Abjuration: On short rest, Gale can strengthen Arcane Ward to sustain itself beyond a single hit

Evocation

Sculpt Spells: Gale can control his Evocation spells and keep them from harming allies

Potent Cantrip: Gale can force enemies that resist his cantrips to take half damage from them anyways

Empowered Evocation: Gale's Evocation spells are particularly deadly (based on +INT modifier to damage rolls)

Necromancy

Grim Harvest: Gale can harness the power released when a spell kills a creature to heal himself, UNLESS it's undead or a construct

Undead Thralls: Animate Dead: Gale can reanimate a corpse

UT: Additional Undead: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to reanimate one corpse to reanimate two corpses with Animate Dead

UT: Better Summons: Gale's reanimated dead can take more of a beating than others' dead

Inured to Undeath: Gale's been exposed to necromancy enough that he's resistant to necrotic damage, and his life force capacity can't be reduced (this one in particular helps with the "Netherese bile" flowing through his veins)

Conjuration

Create Water: Gale can call forth rain at will (BG3's feature over D&D's to align more with storm sorcery)

Benign Transposition: Teleport: Gale can teleport up to 30ft, and can use that to swap places with an ally

Focused Conjuration: Gale's concentration on conjuration spells can't break due to pain

Enchantment

Hypnotic Gaze: So long as Gale holds eye contact with someone, he can charm them into stopping everything they're doing and staring at him in a daze

Instinctive Charm: Reflexively, Gale can make a split-second charm attempt to redirect an attack at someone directly nearby

Split Enchantment: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to enchant one person and instead enchant two targets at once

Divination

Portent: Gale can focus and gain split-second glimpses into the immediate future (such as the next blow about to be thrown in a fight)

Expert Divination: Casting divination comes naturally enough to Gale that he can cast divination spells using a lower spell slot

Third Eye: Gale can increase his powers of perception and gain a very limited Darkvision/Ethereal vision at will, as well as read any language

Illusion

Improved Minor Illusion: Gale can cast illusory effects with incredible ease

See Invisibility: Gale's experience with illusions lets him detect invisibility spells at work, focus on them, and see through them

Illusory Self: Gale can create an identical double of himself reflexively to confuse opponents

Transmutation

Experimental Alchemy: Using transmutation magic, Gale can more efficiently refine potion ingredients, occasionally enough to create a second potion

Transmuter's Stone: Gale can lock some of his transmutation magic into a stone, granting whoever holds it an effect of his choice from the following: Constitution proficiency, Darkvision, extra speed, resistance to acid/cold/fire/lightning/thunder damage

Shapechanger: Gale can polymorph himself once a day without consuming a spell slot (only into beasts with a CR of 1 or less)

Storm Sorcery

Wind Speaker: Gale can speak, read, and write Primordial (Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran)

Tempestuous Magic: Gale can summon gusts of wind around him immediately after casting a spell greater than a cantrip. These winds are strong enough to propel him in flight for ten feet

Heart of the Storm: Gale has resistance to lightning and thunder damage. In addition, whenever he casts a spell that deals lightning or thunder damage, the magic that erupts is stormy and more powerful than other kinds of magic at equal level

Storm Guide: Gale can subtly control the weather around him, causing rain to stop falling in a 20 foot sphere centered on him, or wind to blow in a different direction in a 100 foot sphere centered on him

Feats

These are based on what I, personally, think make the most sense for him pre-tadpole:

Ability Increase: +2 to INT score

Elemental Adept: Thunder: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to thunder, and when a spell he casts causes thunder damage, it can't critically fail

Elemental Adept: Lightning: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to lightning, and when a spell he casts causes lightning damage, it can't critically fail

Okay, so Gale's crazy powerful, right? What could he have possibly lost that's greater than all this?

Well...

Abjuration: Spell Resistance: Gale was in tune enough with the Weave that he could resist spells (as well as gaining advantage on saving throws against them)

Evocation: Overchannel: Gale could deal maximum damage on a 1-5 level spell without ill effect on first cast, but suffered unresisted necrotic damage when using it again

Necromancy: Command Undead: Gale could bring undead made by other wizards under his control

Conjuration: Durable Summons: Gale could give anything he summoned a temporary shield against damage (30 temp HP)

Enchantment: Alter Memories: Gale could make someone unaware they were charmed by him, as well as make them forget something that happened during that charmed period

Divination: Greater Portent: Gale used to be able to predict more split second decisions ahead with ease

Illusion: Illusory Reality: Gale used to be able to pull shadow magic together into illusions and make them, temporarily, real. He can still do a limited version of this, but only via concentration to keep the threads together (hence the "anatomically correct" illusory wizard in the Drow twins scene; shadow magic is NOT the same as the Shadow Weave)

Transmutation: Master Transmuter: Gale could consume magic stored in his transmuter's stone in one go, using it to transmute one object into another, remove curses, diseases, and poisons, raise the dead, or reduce a creature's apparent age by up to 30 years

Storm Sorcery: Storm's Fury: Gale could react with lightning damage when struck physically Wind Soul: Gale was immune to lightning and thunder damage, could fly at a speed of 60 feet, and could reduce his flying speed to 30 feet for 1 hour to make four additional people fly

Yeah. Ouch. And that's not even including his former Chosen abilities.

Gale's Chosen abilities

Silver Fire: Gale could command pure energy of the Weave in the form of silver-white flame, which, at his command, could destroy anything in its path, banish dead magic areas, restore torn Weave, purge external magic and psionic effects from his own body, teleport without error to the last location he used the ability at, or cast spells without verbal, somatic, or material components

Mantle: Gale could cast the dangerous Mantle spell without suffering any ill effects, while other wizards casting the spell would suffer a drain of life force as long as it persisted

Weave Detection: Gale could detect magic's presence without the use of a spell

Weave Tapping: Gale could cast high level spells repeatedly without losing a spell slot, although this was discouraged by Mystra

On the page for Mystra's Chosen abilities, it says that sometimes her Chosen gained an immunity to magic, as well as disease and poison. I don't think Gale was so lucky, however; in the House of Healing, he mentions that he once turned himself in to a hospice in Waterdeep for a "bout of ruddy pox." Him having turned himself in implies he was an adult at the time, and should, therefore, already be Mystra's Chosen.

All that to say: behold, Gale of Waterdeep, in his original splendor. How the mighty have fallen.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #long post #ask bee #the neat thing about the storm sorcery stuff is that it's JUST close enough in proximity to what gale's already capable of #that he probably didn't even give it a second thought #he can fly at lv18? he could fly at 8yo. doesn't matter #lightning and thunder immunity? well mystra's chosen get magical immunity sometimes. must be that!#his lightning/thunder spells are stronger? they're his specialties! he studied those!#i love it

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mpileons · 9 months ago

Text

behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader

> chapter two

A/N: this is the first fic ive written in a while so bare w/ me as i get back into the motion of writing :) also construction criticism & suggestions are always welcome <3

+ this going to be a multi chapter story, please patient w me and ill try to make it worth your while :,)

—

Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.

Word Count: 1.9K

Chapter 1

A Year Ago —

It all started on a regular Wednesday, I was getting ready for my morning shift at Lever & Bloom. It was all very normal, I woke up extremely late as per usual, and had to rush out of my apartment complex without doing my hair or my makeup which was once again, per usual.

As 10am hit, I was getting into the motion of making drinks and chatting with customers. Although being a barista is quite a mundane job, I thoroughly enjoy every part of it, especially talking with the regulars and forming those relationships that never fail to bring a smile to my face. As I went to take my break, I saw a distinct blonde head of hair enter the cafe premises. Everytime she enters the cafe (which is very often) my intrigue seems to rise more and more. She seems to always come in at 11 on the dot, every weekday. Not that I’m keeping track or anything. Definitely not. Conveniently, as she goes to the counter I decide to save my break for later. Definitely not anything to do with her.

"One large ic-" The tall blonde starts to speak, but I'm quick to interrupt her. "A large iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, I know, it's coming right up," I say, a small smile creeping onto my face. I turn to see the same expression reflected on her face, a shared moment of understanding passing between us.

For some reason, I feel an impulse I can't ignore. With nervous yet hopeful determination, I grab a napkin and hastily scrawl down my number along with her order. With trembling hands, I slide the napkin across the counter, our fingers brushing for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"Thanks," she murmurs, her voice soft and tinged with warmth as she takes the napkin. I watch her as she takes a seat by the window, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waits for her drink.

My heart starts to pound in my chest, anticipation mingling with apprehension. What if she doesn't text? What if I completely misread everything?

I push all the thoughts out of my head as I prepare her iced americano, my hands tremble slightly, betraying the calm facade I try to maintain around her. When it's ready, I take a deep breath and walk over to her table, setting the drink down with a shaky hand.

"Here you go," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping she can't hear the rapid thumping of my heart that I'm sure is about to explode.

"Thanks again," she replies, flashing me a dazzling smile that sets my heart aflutter. And then, to my surprise and delight, she adds, "By the way, I'm Alexia."

The sound of her name sends a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but return the gesture. "Nice to meet you, Alexia. I'm Y/N," I say, hoping she can't hear the increasingly rapid thumping of my heart.

We exchange a few more words before I have to return to my duties behind the counter, but her presence lingers in my mind long after she leaves. And as the days turn into weeks and then months, we start to form somewhat of a routine that consists of Alexia coming to get coffee every weekday morning, some light-hearted flirting, then I constantly think about her until I see her the next day.

Present Day –

The soft chime of the café's door announces Alexia's arrival, as it does every weekday morning. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, as it usually does, alongside a familiar pang of longing mixed with resentment tightening in my chest. I watch as Alexia approaches the counter, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Hey, Y/N," Alexia greets, her voice warm and inviting.

"Hey," my tone lacking its usual warmth. I start to busy myself with preparing Alexia's usual order, my movements stiff and mechanical. Whether Alexia is paying attention to these details or not is completely lost on me.

As I hand Alexia the cup, our fingers almost touch but Alexia pulls away quickly, further spiralling my conflicting emotions.

"Thanks," Alexia says with a tight smile.

I somehow manage to force a smile in return, but it feels hollow, fake. As Alexia takes her usual seat by the window, her attention is focused on her phone. The sight stirs a flicker of jealousy within me, a bitter unwanted reminder of the countless admirers vying for Alexia's attention.

The minutes tick by, each one stretching out into what seems like an eternity as I try to manage my emotions. I want to reach out to Alexia, to tell her how I am truly feeling, but the words stay stuck in my throat, still suffocated by the weight of the secret I have no choice but to keep.

As Alexia finishes her drink and prepares to leave, my resolve quickly crumbles. "Alexia, wait," I blurted out, cringing at how my voice is tinged with obvious desperation.

Alexia turns to me, concern flashing in her eyes. "Is everything okay babe?"

I start to hesitate, my heart pounding like an alarm in my chest. I try to open my mouth to speak, but the words elude me.

"Never mind," I murmur, forcing a weak smile. "Just... take care, okay?"

Alexia's brow furrows in confusion, but she nods, concern etched into her features. "You too, Y/N."

As Alexia leaves the café, I am left alone with my thoughts, the weight of secrecy pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I begin to wonder how much longer I can keep up the charade, how much longer I can pretend that everything is okay when it's anything but.

I return back to the counter with my heart pounding like a drum inside my chest and my thoughts racing. As the day drags on and my return back to Alexia and I’s shared apartment is approaching, I know something has to change. The weight of secrecy was slowly crushing me and if this goes on any longer, I do not know how much there will be left of our relationship to salvage, or if there will be anything left to salvage. Whether I had the courage to confront this and risk the comfort we had built is another story.

10 Months Ago —

My phone flashes with a message as I am sitting at my desk pouring over textbooks.

Alexia: Be ready at 6, dress comfortably.

As I went to respond, I couldn't hide the bright grin growing on my face. Ever since that day two months ago, Alexia and I had been texting nonstop, talking about anything, everything and all that's in between. I couldn't help but feel as if the universe had dropped a gift into my lap. Alexia was unbelievably attentive and rather charming, further adding to my ever growing feelings for her. As we kept talking nonstop, we found that we were completely different. She's a professional footballer, I do not know a singular thing about football. I study film with a minor in astronomy, she is not very well versed in either of those. However, we are similar in every aspect that matters. Although I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too good to be true, she is undeniably attractive, charming, funny, the list goes on and on. Why would she settle for an overworked university student with a mundane part time job?

I push all those thoughts away for later as I start to get ready, considering this will be our first date, if it even is a date. I needed to be prepared, but not too prepared.

Hours pass and I am now in Alexia's car as music softly plays from the console and her hand is lightly resting on my thigh, as if it was always meant to be there.

“Pretty pleasee just tell me where we’re going” I turn to her with the biggest puppy dog eyes, which seem to not work as she just chuckles and shakes her head. “We’re almost there, just a little patience baby” She murmurs and kisses my hand as a way of apologising.

Alexia starts to put the car into park and quickly leaves the car to open my door, ever the gentlewoman. She intertwines her hand with mine as she leads me into a very familiar building. “Uhm Alexia, why are we at the astronomy club?” I look to her with a very confused frown as she looks to me with the softest smile that completely melts my heart, “I got us tickets to a private rooftop stargazing event hosted by a local astronomy club” She speaks with excitement lacing every word, she couldn't even get the words out before I jump into her arms and squeeze her into the tightest hug known to man as a way to try show a glimmer of the feelings taking over my heart due to her unexpected attentiveness. She just smiles at me and gently kisses my forehead as if I am the softest thing in the world, I think I will just melt into a puddle of gush right then and there because of all her actions.

She once again takes my hand as we ascend the stairs to the rooftop, my heart races with excitement and anticipation. The night sky stretches out above creating a vast canvas of twinkling stars and constellations.

Upon reaching the rooftop, we’re greeted by a cosy setup complete with blankets, pillows, and telescopes. Soft music plays in the background, a realisation hits me suddenly. This is the song that was playing when I gave Alexia my number two months ago. The pure amount of consideration, care and thought that Alexia put into this date is making my eyes water, Alexia takes notice of this and immediately comes to engulf me with a hug as she lightly peppers kisses on my head. How did I get so lucky?

She starts to lead me, according to her, to the prime stargazing spot. She snakes her hands around my waist as her chin rests in the crook between my shoulder and neck while I peer through the telescope. “Alexia, you need to see this!” I excitedly tell her but to my surprise she shakes her head “I’d rather stay here with you” I turn to her with the biggest grin as I kiss her cheek and tell her various stories about all the constellations.

As the night wears on, we find ourselves lost in each other's company, our laughter mingling with the soft strains of music and the rustle of the night. With each passing moment, my heart swells more and more with a sense of warmth and belonging, a feeling I had never imagined I could find in another person.

And as the night starts to draw to a close, Alexia leans in, her movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring every moment leading up to the kiss. As I was thinking that the anticipation was going to be the death of me, I felt the warmth of Alexia's breath against my skin as our lips meet in a tender embrace, the world falling away, leaving only the sensation of Alexia's lips against mine, incredibly soft and inviting. My fingers instinctively tangle in Alexia's hair, pulling her as close to me as humanly possible. In that fleeting moment, everything feels right in the world.

#woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #woso community #fcb femeni #alexia putellas #alexia x reader #Alexia putellas x reader #Spotify #woso #woso fanfic #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x you #alexia putellas x y/n #woso blurbs #woso couples #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona

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genderkoolaid · 5 months ago

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Hi. You always post a lot of info so I'm wondering if you might be able to help me. Is there a difference between radfems and TERFs? Are they both bad? If so, why are they bad? Are there any dog whistles to look out for when it comes to these groups? Please ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable. I've seen a lot of people pointing out that they're bad, but never really saying why. I want to make sure I follow intersectional feminism and not those groups.

Radical feminism is the name of a branch of feminism. It originally got its name because it advocated for extreme changes to society to address female oppression, but developed into a specific worldview which I (off the top of my head) would define by certain traits:

Oppositional sexism. Men and women (or "males" and "females") are fundamentally opposed. Oftentimes this is bioessentialist, arguing that this opposite comes from biology, but it may also be framed as a political necessity; a radfem might argue that gender and sex are fake BUT we need male vs female as political identities in order to identify our "allies" and "enemies". Regardless, males and females are physically distinct and political enemies. You can tell a man from a woman, either from their body or their behavior, the two categories cannot overlap, and no other gender/sex-labels are relevant.

Fatalistic perspectives on patriarchy. Not only are males and females opposed, but this cannot be changed. This may be bioessentialist (the opposition comes from something in our nature, which cannot change) or gender-essentialist (the opposition comes from socialization which occurs as a child due to outside pressure and/or internal gender identity, and cannot change.) Focus is not placed on an ideal future where men and women are equals and social partners. Instead, there is a sense that there is no way to truly have a society with men and women where males do not oppress females, or try to. Sometimes this is more implicit and other times you have people who explicitly believe in creating & enforcing female-only societies.

Misogyny as the source of all oppression, or at least the most important & the one people should identity themselves as before anything else. Those who call themselves intersectional generally only really care about other issues to the extent that they affect women in some way. Part of the downfall of the original radical feminists was the fact that the dominant groups were upper-class white women, who ignored racism and classism and silenced poor women & women of color, insisting that anti-racist and anti-classist action distracted from The Movement & that calling out other women's bigotry was anti-feminist.

A general suspicion of sexual desire and sex, often expressing itself as whorephobia (anti-sex work) and anti-kink attitudes, specifically under the argument that they are inherently misogynistic and abusive. Sex is associated with men and maleness, which again, are inherently the enemy. Sex WITH men, or with a person or object that could be construed as male, is especially bad.

The impetus to make your personal life As Feminist As Possible– "The personal is political." That isn't a bad slogan on its own (it's true), but with radical feminists it expresses itself as a high standard of Radfemmaxing. You should be celibate if you are attracted to men, or become a political lesbian, you shouldn't be masculine OR feminine (anti-butch & femme sentiment), you should reject makeup and shaving, you should cut off male relatives and even abort male fetuses– and you must identify with womanhood and femaleness, while rejecting any identity related to manhood and maleness. It's not just that you should examine your desires and choices and question why you feel the way you feel (again, this is a good thing). Radfems have the belief that they already know the correct answer to that Introspection, and if you come to any other conclusion than theirs (I like wearing makeup because it's fun, I want to be a man because it fits me), then it's taken as proof you are still brainwashed.

TERFS are trans-exclusive radfems. They believe that being trans is not real, or at least not healthy or an acceptable feminist stance. TERFs tend to use the language of "sex" and "males vs females." Many use the term "gender critical," meaning they see gender as fake and damaging, while sex is real and the proper platform for feminist analysis. I once saw a TERF define her stance as "it's not degrading because its feminine, its feminine because its degrading." They believe in things like autogynophilia and rapid onset gender dysphoria, and attribute transgender identity with sexual trauma, internalized homophobia and internalized misogyny.

TIRFs are trans inclusive. They believe that transgender feelings are natural and should be listened to and followed, and that feminism should take gender identity into account. However, they still have a "male vs female" worldview. They may argue that transgender men's internal gender feelings led them to internalize male socialization, while trans women internalized female socialization, meaning that all trans people's experiences with gender and misogyny align most with cis people who share their gender identity.

In both cases, anti-nonbinary exorsexism and intersexism are unavoidable. TERFs will label intersex people as "males/females with a disorder" and attribute nonbinary identity either to internalized misogyny (FTX) or to avoid being held accountable for male privilege (MTX). TIRFs similarly fail to acknowledge how someone's socialization can be affected by intersexism. MTX people are either trans women in denial or flamboyant cis men; FTX people are either trans men avoiding their privilege, or cis women avoiding their privilege*.

Not everyone who uses radical feminist arguments or shares the general perspective openly identified as radfem. There are many "cryptos" who purposefully obscure their political identity to spread radfem ideas in queer & feminist spaces. Other people adopt the general ideas of radical feminism without consciously identifying as one, because of cryptos and how pop feminism often adopts their flashier ideas. So it's important to understand these qualities as on a scale, with some versions being more subtle while others are explicit.

Radical feminism always reduces trans experiences (& experiences in general) to a simple, uncrossable binary, based either in gender or sex. Nuance and cros- or non-binary gender experiences are seen as anti-feminist and aligned with the patriarchy, if not part of a targeted plan to hurt feminist movements.

*the idea of "AFAB privilege" is. a thing in some people's analysis of transmisogyny.

#m.#ask box

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marlynnofmany · 3 months ago

Text

Confidential Human Questions

I was walking past the door to the cockpit quietly because I heard Captain Sunlight on a video call with a client, but then I heard, “Was that a human? Call them back; I have a question.”

This ought to be good, I thought as I spun on my heel.

Captain Sunlight was just calling my name as I reached the doorway. “Ah yes, thank you. Would you mind answering a human-related question?” She stood in the middle of the room, yellow scales bright in the good lighting. She managed to look up to my height without making it seem awkward.

“Sure,” I said. “What’s the question?” I stayed in the doorway. The room was a little crowded, with Wio in one pilot’s chair, tentacles manipulating many controls at once, and Kavlae doing something to fix her own chair with a hand tool. Judging by the way her head frills were flaring with frustration, she wasn’t done yet.

The client on the big screen curled his own tentacles. “I’m concerned about my ship’s human,” he said, turning his pointy squid head to make sure he wasn’t overheard. He lowered his voice and spoke closely to the screen. “We only have the one, you see, and I don’t want to ask any awkward questions directly.”

“I understand,” I said with a nod. Captain Sunlight ushered me into the room, then stepped out to talk to Zhee about something. I heard the distinctive click of his bug feet.

The client was still talking, with agitated twists of his pebbly gray tentacles. “We don’t have a medic onboard, just an automated medical suite. The human will be going home soon — limited time work contract, you know — but I’m honestly worried about infection spreading there, since I think this human caught it by meeting up with another. I gather that this other is on good terms with ours, and may be going to the same place either way, but I don’t want to contribute any contagion from my ship.”

“What kind of symptoms are we talking about?” I asked, mentally going over the short list of diseases that I knew of which could jump between species. This might be worth consulting our own medic. “No one else onboard is affected?”

“No, just the human,” he said, making vague loops with his tentacles. “There’s a malignant-looking growth, along with fatigue and gastrointestinal distress. The human has been acting a little… unpredictable.” He looked behind himself again. “I very much don’t want to cause an incident by prying, especially if this is something she knows to be terminal.”

I opened my mouth then closed it, choosing my questions with care. “Is the growth about here?” I pantomimed a roundness at my own stomach. “How long since she met with the other human?”

“Yes, exactly there! It’s been approximately half a standard orbit. What is it? Do you know?”

He was so sincere and worried that I had to smile. “Good news! In my opinion as a professional human, that’s not a disease at all. Your human is going to be a parent.”

Instead of relaxing, he looked confused. “Humans gestate eggs for that long? Shouldn’t she have laid them by now? She looks awfully uncomfortable. Oh no, are they stuck?” Now he was getting alarmed. “I had a relative who got eggbound once, and it was dire!”

I raised my hands in a calming gesture that I hoped he understood. “No, no eggs. Humans give live birth.”

“Live what?”

“Just — we lay the babies, already hatched.” I looked to my various crewmates for support, and found four different sets of eyes watching in curiosity. “All of you lay eggs, don’t you?”

Several nods answered me, along with, “Well not personally,” from Zhee. “But yes.”

I sighed and turned back to the screen. “It’s extremely normal on my planet. Just think of it as carrying the nest around internally. There are pros and cons to the whole thing, but yeah. At any rate, it sounds like she’s planning to join up with her mate at home, and raise their offspring together.”

The client looked fascinated. “Is there anything I should do? Or not do? I can make sure my crew is informed.”

“I understand it’s an uncomfortable process. Just be gentle, and encourage rest,” I said. “Oh, and have other crewmembers handle anything that involves bending over or moving heavy things.”

By the swift tentacle motions offscreen, he was typing notes.

Another thought occurred to me. “I don’t know how long until you reach her home, but if things take too long, you’d better hope your medical suite is up to overseeing a childbirth. They’re very painful, sometimes dangerous. And messy.”

He stopped typing, eyes wide. “I need to check with someone about changing our schedule. Thank you, goodbye!” The screen went blank.

I looked to the captain. “Were you done talking with him, I hope?”

She nodded. “Yes, business is concluded. Which is good, since I don’t fancy having to track him down because he forgot to pay us.”

“Yeah, me neither,” I said with a glance back at the screen. “I didn’t even get to tell him how loud human newborns are, or how often they cry. I doubt there’s a crib onboard.”

Zhee made a disparaging hiss and wandered off in a cloud of opinions about species without the good sense to hatch at a properly capable stage of development.

Wio snorted. “Judging by the speed they just took off at, I don’t think they’re going to need one.” She pointed a blue-ringed tentacle at a display that showed the other ship departing in an all-fired hurry.

I shook my head. “Best of luck to all involved!”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #writeblr #writblr

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