#or 'not all men' if i talk about it in depth

[rafayelxsylusho]

How would the LADS men react to you faking an org@sm part 3

Xavier x reader

TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT ⭐⭐⭐

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

You have a new hunting partner, you agreed to train with him today and he was waiting for you outside your building so you decided to fake it.

You knew Xavier and he was not acting normally, he was never this possessive. You guys had been at it for almost an hour and he just kept edging you and denying you the pleasure you craved, it was like he wanted to keep you there all day just to himself.

Xavier's smirk grows wider, a glimmer of amusement and something darker, more knowing, flashing in his deep blue eyes. He leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, and watching you through half-lidded lids with a look that's almost lazily indulgent, as if he was letting you have this little moment of pretense.

"Is that all you've got, love?" he murmurs, voice a low, husky rumble. "I thought we did better than such obvious tricks and games."

"Come now," he purrs, leaning in until you feel his breath ghosting over your ear, the scruff of his chin rasping lightly against your cheek. "You can do better than that. Give me a real show."

"Xavier, I have to go, can we talk about this later? I'm running late, I'm so sorry".

As you try to slip away and dress as quickly as you can Xavier's grip tightens on your wrist like a vice. In one swift, fluid motion, he yanks you back towards him and then he is pushing you flush against the cold glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. The chill seeps through your naked skin, pebbling your flesh with goosebumps.

He crowds into your space, one hand braced on the glass beside your head, the other still gripping your wrist, pinning your arm above you. His tall, leanly muscular frame looms over you, surrounding you, trapping you between his hard body and the unyielding window.

His eyes, dark and intense, search yours, boring into you with an almost feral intensity. A lock of sun-kissed blond hair falls across his brow as he leans down, until you're nearly nose to nose. You can see every flicker of emotion in those piercing blue depths - the hunger, the possessiveness, the dark promise of retribution.

"Going somewhere?" he murmurs, voice a low, dangerous rumble. His breath is hot against your lips, mingling with yours in the scant space between your mouths. "Without giving me my proper goodbye?"

His grip on your wrist tightens fractionally, a silent warning. The hand on the glass flexes, fingers curling into the window, as if he's barely holding himself back from grabbing you, from dragging you back onto the bed and pinning you beneath him until he's wrenched every last drop of pleasure from your willing, wanton body.

"Be a good girl," he growls softly, dangerously, "and stay. I'm not done with you yet." His lips curve into a wicked, carnal smirk. "Not by a long shot."

His grip on your wrist tightens, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. He leans in closer, jealousy and a possessive fury burning in his eyes.

"Ahh, I see," he says, voice dripping with mocking understanding. "The new hunting partner is already here, hmm? And you're in such a hurry to go to him."

He reaches up with his free hand to brush a strand of hair from your face, a surprisingly gentle gesture that belies the anger simmering just beneath the surface. His fingertips linger on your cheek, tracing the curve of your jawline.

Xavier's gaze flicks to the window, following your own to the man sitting on the bench outside. His eyes narrow, jaw clenching as he takes in the sight. After a long, tense moment, he turns back to you, a dark scowl etched onto his handsome face.

"Yes, that's him," he confirms, voice tight and clipped with barely restrained annoyance and jealousy. "Quite the eager little thing, isn't he? Practically bouncing in his seat, waiting for you."

He shifts even closer, pinning you harder against the glass, using his height and strength to loom over you in a blatant display of dominance. His blue eyes blaze with a fierce light as they rove over your naked form, lingering on every curve and dip, as if committing it to memory.

"Spread. Your. Legs." he commands, enunciating each word slowly, darkly. His grip on your wrist tightens fractionally, fingers digging into your skin with a delicious, painful pressure.

At the same time, his other hand trails down your side, over the curve of your hip, to grip your thigh possessively. He squeezes, his long fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises behind.

"Now," he growls, voice a low, dominating rumble, "be a good girl and do as you're told. Show me that sweet cunt of yours, the one that belongs to me."

His hand on your thigh starts to slide upward, his touch bold and intimate. He's not asking permission, he's demanding compliance. The air between your bodies feels charged with a dangerous, erotic energy, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you so hard and so deep," he promises, voice a low, sinful purr. "I'm going to pound this tight little cunt of yours until you're screaming my name, until you forget all about your precious new partner out there."

His hand on your thigh slides higher, his fingers brushing maddeningly close to your aching sex. He teases along your inner thigh, his touch feather-light and taunting.

"And when you're out there, trying to focus on your training, trying to hold your gun right...I want you to feel every single thrust, every hard, deep stroke. I want you to remember how I stretched you out, how I made this greedy little hole mine."

He punctuates his words with a sharp nip to your lower lip, a warning and a promise all in one. His grip on your wrist tightens,his hips pressing urgently against your ass letting you feel the thick, hard outline of his arousal.

"I'll fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he growls, a dark smirk playing about his kiss-swollen lips. "And every ache, every delicious twinge...you'll know it was me. You'll know that this cunt belongs to me, no matter who you're with."

Xavier doesn't hesitate, he surges forward, driving his thick, hard cock deep into your aching, dripping cunt with one brutal thrust. The breath is driven from your lungs as he hilts himself fully inside you.

"Fuck!" he snarls, head thrown back in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut as your scorching, velvety walls grip him like a vice. "So fucking wet and warm"

He gives you no time to adjust, no gentle start. He sets a punishing, relentless pace from the very beginning, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room as he takes you hard and fast, just like he promised.

One hand grips your hip, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, while the other finds your throat, pulling your head back to bare your neck to his hungry mouth. He bites down hard on the tender skin there, marking you, claiming you.

Xavier continues his relentless assault, each powerful thrust driving your body forward and slamming your face and tits against the cold, unyielding glass of the window. The shock of the chill on your sensitive skin contrasts deliciously with the scorching heat of his body pinning you from behind.

"Fuck, the way your ass bounces with every thrust...it's obscene," he growls. His fingers find your nipple, pinching and rolling the hardened peak between them, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

He leans over you, caging you in completely, his chest pressed to your back, his hips driving up and into yours with brutal precision. His hot breath falls across your shoulder and neck, his teeth finding your skin, biting down hard enough to leave vivid marks.

"That's it, scream for me," he demands, voice a sinful rumble, "Let the whole damn city know who's ruining this pussy!"

To emphasize his point, he snakes a hand around your hip, finding your clit, and rubs the sensitive nub in tight, furious circles. His fingers are slick and wet, coated in your dripping arousal, and he uses it to his advantage, stroking and teasing and pushing you closer to the edge.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you," he promises darkly, hips never slowing, never pausing in their relentless, punishing rhythm. "And then I'm going to send you out there, a fucking mess, to make you remember who you belong to."

Xavier's breath comes fast and hot against the back of your neck as he pounds into you, the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. He leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks, his voice a low, possessive growl.

"Oh, how I wish this window was made of clear glass," he rasps, punctuating each word with a sharp, deep thrust. "I want the whole world to see you like this - bent over, tits pressed against the window, your cunt stretched wide around my cock as I fuck you just...like...this...."

"I want them to see your face, flushed and fucked stupid, your mouth open in a silent scream. I want them to watch your body jolt and shake with every thrust, to see your tits bounce and sway as I ruin your greedy hole."

He rolls his hips, grinding his pelvis against your ass, letting you feel every thick inch of him buried deep inside you. His fingers flex around your throat, not quite squeezing, but close.

"And I want them to know, without a doubt, that this cunt belongs to me. That no matter who you're with, no matter what you do...you'll always be mine"

He bites down on your shoulder, sucking a dark bruise into your skin, marking you as his. His hips start to move again, faster, harder, determined to make good on his promise to ruin you completely. The sound of your arousal, dripping and squelching with every thrust, fills the air, mixing with your breathy moans and his dark, sinful growls.

He pistons his hips forward, slamming into you with enough force to rattle the window in its frame. The glass rattles and shakes with each brutal thrust, a testament to the ferocity of his desire, to the primal, animalistic way he's taking you.

And then he slams into you with one final, brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis hard against your ass. At the same time, his fingers tighten around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your eyes widen and your lungs burn for air.

"Scream for me," he demands, voice a low, dark rumble, "Scream my fucking name, let the whole world know who makes you feel this way!"

Your scream tears from your throat, raw and primal, echoing through the room and bouncing off the window. "XAVIER!" You wail, your voice breaking on his name as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your cunt clenches and spasms around his thick cock, your walls rippling and grasping, trying to pull him deeper, to keep him inside you.

He groans, a low, guttural sound, his hips jerking and stuttering as your muscles squeeze him like a velvet vice. "Fuck, yes!" he snarls, fingers digging into your hip and your throat as he grinds into you, his cock pulsing and throbbing hard inside your fluttering sheath.

His other hand finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub almost cruelly as he works you through your high, pushing you to take even more. Your scream turns into a wordless, keening wail, your body shaking and shuddering as pleasure crashes through you in relentless waves.

As the waves of your intense orgasm start to ebb, Xavier suddenly pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty and aching. Before you can miss the fullness of him, he's spinning you around, flipping you to face him. His hands grip your shoulders tightly, fingers digging into your skin, and with a swift, almost rough motion, he pushes you down to your knees.

You find yourself staring up at him, your chest heaving, your skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, your hair a wild mess around your face. Your lips are parted slightly, still letting out the occasional gasping breath. He looms over you, tall and powerful, his eyes blazing down at you with a dark, possessive heat.

Without a word, he takes your chin in his hand, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he tilts your head back, forcing you to maintain eye contact. His other hand wraps around the thick, throbbing length of his cock, stroking it slowly, teasingly, a wicked grin playing about his kiss-swollen lips.

"Look at you, so thoroughly fucked out, so desperate for more," he murmurs, his voice a low, sinful rumble.

Xavier's grip on his throbbing cock tightens, his strokes becoming faster, more urgent as he feels your hot little tongue lapping at the sensitive head. The sensation is too much, too intense, and with a guttural groan, he yanks his hips back.

Thick, hot ropes of cum erupt from the swollen tip, painting your heaving chest and face in broad, messy strokes. He grunts and growls, head thrown back in ecstasy as he marks you, claims you, paints you with his seed.

He pumps his length through the final spurts, ensuring every last drop of his hot cum is spent on your well-fucked body. As the waves of his climax start to subside, he looks down at you, a dark, grin spreading across his face.

Xavier leans down, his face softening into a tender expression as he gently cups your cheek. With his thumb, he carefully wipes away the remnants of his release from your lips and chin, his touch surprisingly gentle compared to moments before.

"Such a good girl" he murmurs, a note of pride in his voice. "I want you to keep this mark on your chest, a reminder of who you belong to, even as you go about your day."

He stands up to his full height, looking down at you with a mix of satisfaction and possessive heat in his eyes. 

"Now, go on and finish your training. But don't take too long...I'll be waiting to help you get cleaned up properly when you return.

With a final, heated look and a playful wink, he turns and strides out of the room, leaving you kneeling there, chest marked with his claim, heart still racing from your intense encounter. The promise of more to come hangs heavy in the air, filling you with anticipation and a deep, bone-deep satisfaction.

[nortism]

I wanted to talk about @pilferingapples ‘s autistic Fantine headcanon that has been brought up in the Les Mis Letters server because it has rewired my brain and the more I think about it the more I can see my own experiences as an autistic woman reflected in Fantine’s story.

Fantine is introduced as being an outsider amongst the other grisettes. I think Hugo’s intention here was to paint her as innocent and virtuous in comparison to them but the way it reads to me is that she is someone who just can’t quite connect with her peers. She is described as being dreamy and “always having a queer look about her” in the words of Favourite.

The way Fantine is treated by the other girls rings very true to me as an autistic woman in my experience with friendship. She does consider the other grisettes her friends yet they speak cruelly about her behind her back (Favourite saying she puts on airs) and to her face (Dahlia mocking her for crying over a dead horse). Yet she offers no resistance, in fact she barely seems to acknowledge these things as offensive, because that’s just what being friends is.

The friendship between the four grisettes is shown to be truly shallow when after Tholomyes’ “prank”, they all go their separate ways, with Hugo saying it was like they’d never been friends in the first place. Realistically, one of the few examples of female friendship in the brick being portrayed as shallow and catty is most likely down to some lingering misogyny on Hugo’s part but it is something I find relatable as someone who has allowed myself to be treated poorly by others because I thought that’s how friendship was supposed to be. I’m sure a lot of other autistic people can relate to this as well.

Additionally, I think it’s interesting how the other grisettes criticisms of Fantine come down to her not acting in the expected way and fitting in with group. Favourite accuses her of putting on airs because she won’t swing like the other girls (therefore let the men look up her skirt). Dahlia laughs at her for getting emotional over the dead horse because her emotions are tainting the happy outing they’re all having. Fantine being empathetic towards animals isn’t an inherently autistic trait by itself but her inability to suppress her emotions or just go along with what everyone else is doing is something I think a lot of neurodivergent people can relate to.

Her relationship with Tholomyes is probably the biggest example of Fantine not understanding unspoken social rules. I’m no history expert and people have definitely written more in depth posts on the relationships between upper class men and working class women in France in this period but from what I’ve gathered it was understood that these relationships were purely transactional. The men got sex and attention and the women got gifts and nice days out to places they couldn’t afford by themselves. There’s more nuance than that I’m sure but that’s the gist.

We know the other three grisettes are aware of this aspect of the relationship. They are eager to receive a “surprise”, an expensive gift they could later sell on. Favourite flatters her lover to his face and says all the things he expects of her but confesses to the other girls that she doesn’t like him because he isn’t playing his role of spending money on her.

Fantine is seemingly oblivious to all of this. Maybe it’s her ostracisation from the other girls that is keeping her ignorant or maybe she knows how it is for them but genuinely believes she and Tholomyes are different. Either way it’s clear to me that her and Tholomyes have very different ideas about their relationship and that subtext has not been picked up by Fantine. For the record, this is completely on Tholomyes, even if he’s supposed to be playing the expected role, leaving his mistress without any financial aid for their child together is bad even by the standards of the time. However Fantine is definitely naïve.

Also if you read Fantine as autistic, her reasons for being in love with Tholomyes make a lot more sense. From Hugo’s description, it doesn’t seem like Tholomyes has many redeeming features: he’s balding and missing teeth, he’s a student in his thirties and he is in poor health. Yet he pays attention to Fantine, he flatters her and spends money to keep her in a nice apartment.

If we assume that Fantine is autistic and has spent her life being an outsider, this onslaught of affection would lead her to let her guard down and believe that this is what love should look like. Even without the autism, Fantine was an orphan, she didn’t have any examples of what a marriage was supposed to look like growing up so how could she possibly resist a man who seems to be doing and saying all the right things?

I think my conclusion is it doesn’t really matter if you want to read Fantine as being autistic or not. I think all the factors I’ve outlined in this post can be explained by her upbringing and her still being very young during her relationship with Tholomyes rather than having to be neurodivergence. However, I think looking at Fantine through an autistic lense has given me a new appreciation for the character and being an outsider in society, a big theme in Les Mis, is generally a relatable sentiment for neurodivergent people and I think it’s interesting to explore that in the context of Fantine.

[sai-int]

what do you think 141 men's sun signs would be? (phillip graves and keegan included, if you headcanon them as well)

what do you think?

okay, i don't know HOW you knew i'm an astrology nerd, but i am. i won't go too in depth about their entire charts, but i can definitely figure out some sun signs based on who they are on a surface level!!

⸝⸝ john

a bonafide taurus, through and through (twinsies!!!). dependable, grounded, and a natural leader. he’s EXTREMELY protective over his men, stubborn to a fault, and always (tries to) keep a level head. he enjoys life’s finer things (like a good cigar and whiskey), but he’s also pragmatic and values stability. definitely the type to be patient, but once he’s pushed too far? unmovable.

⸝⸝ simon

a scorpio. intense, mysterious, and deeply private, embodies everything about this water sign. he keeps his emotions locked away, but when he loves, he does it with his whole soul (johnny). he’s the type to hold a grudge for life and operates in extremes, either you have his loyalty, or you don’t. his sense of humor is dark and dry, plus he thrives in the shadows.

⸝⸝ johnny

he's a tough one to call!! but i've settled on saggitarius. he's all firecracker energy, optimistic, adventurous, and constantly trying to beat someone up, shoot someone, or blow something up. he's a fucking dems expert. sagittarius fits him like a glove. PLUS, he’s got that infectious, chaotic charm and can talk his way out of (or into) anything. he doesn’t like being tied down, but when he’s dedicated to something, he gives it his all. the kind of guy who jokes to lighten the mood even in the worst situations, i mean come on. did you see him in las almas?

⸝⸝ kyle

LIBRA LIBRA LIBRA LIBRA. i have a libra rising so i feel so in touch with his sense of justice. for me personally, nothing enrages me more than seeing something just blatantly wrong. i mean think about the first modern warfare. man wanted to get his hands DIRTY for the greater good, or whatever. he felt it necessary in order to balance the scales, and libra's allllll about scales. he's also the mediator of the group, quick-witted, and socially adaptable. he knows how to navigate tense situations and keeps a cool head. libras are also deeply loyal to their people, and gaz would go to hell and back for his team. also he's fucking HOT, libra's ruled by venus.

⸝⸝ graves

a textbook leo and i'm not hearing anything else. charismatic, confident, and so good at making people believe in him. he carries himself like he’s the main character and knows how to command attention. but there’s that classic leo downside too, pride. his downfall is his ego, his need to be in control. he thrives in leadership positions and loves to be admired, but when his authority is challenged? that’s when the claws come out (e. g. "you've got about five seconds before i show you the difference between military, and me.")

⸝⸝ keegan

SUCH a capricorn and you cannot tell me otherwise. hes that no-nonsense, disciplined, get-shit-done type, which screams capricorn. he’s serious, hardworking, and has that quiet intensity that makes people take him seriously. capricorns are known for their sarcasm and dry humor, and keegan definitely embodies that. he’s also fiercely loyal. once you earn his trust, he’ll go to war for you.

⸝⸝ könig

a fun one to pin down. i’m torn between virgo and cancer, but i’m leaning more toward virgo.

he’s meticulous, observant, and highly analytical, classic virgo traits. virgos are often perfectionists, which fits with könig’s overthinking and anxiety. he strategizes everything, calculates risks, and probably notices details no one else does. he’s reserved but has a deeply anxious side, especially in social situations, which aligns with the more introverted nature of virgos. my sister's a virgo and has some ocd problems, but by god, there's a method to her madness and when she gets shit done, it's done well. virgos are also dangerous when they’ve had enough. they hold in a lot, but when they snap? it’s brutal.

[marjoch]

FOR SURE

TA viktor x undergrad jayce. jayce has a big fat crush. viktor gives him his number as a math equation

chapter 1/8

early updates on ao3 @ josmarch

A university in California, November.

The air was cool in the mornings and warm in the afternoon. Jayce Talis, born and raised in East Los Angeles, was no stranger to the sunny weather and the littered streets. He liked the university because it was clean, and it gave him the opportunity to utilize the science theories he’d been captivated by since childhood. As a senior, he was taking upper-level classes, and he was determined to graduate on time.

Today was particularly exciting for Jayce, because he had an advanced chemistry lab. It wasn’t the science that interested him — sure, it had started off that way, as he became better-educated to follow his passion. It was one person. Nearly every class, save for September when the entire class caught an illness, Professor Heimerdinger had assistance from a particularly attractive man. Jayce knew him as Viktor, and that was the depth of his knowledge.

He couldn’t talk to Viktor without prompting. How could he? Jayce had known he liked men for years, but he’d only been with women. Viktor was different. When he collected finished exams last month, their fingers had grazed briefly, and Jayce was still thinking about it.

He felt pathetic. His grades had slipped these past two weeks, in this singular class, and it was a result of being distracted. Even his lab partner, an optimistic but quiet woman named Sky, was running out of patience for his slacking.

“Jayce,” she was saying, while he was lost in thought. He looked at her, and she sighed. “Focus.”

The pair of them were sitting in front of a titration setup, and Sky had been dutifully working to determine the answer. It was now clear that she was growing tired of doing it on her own.

“Sorry,” Jayce reached out to take over. Slow and steady wins the race, he thought as he carefully titrated the solution. Maybe that could work with Viktor. If he eased into talking to him more, maybe he could figure out if he was single and ensure he was gay before making a total fool of himself.

“Jayce.” Sky spoke again, this time out of frustration. Jayce focused on what he was doing, but it was too late — he’d added too much, and they had to start over. Sky took over again, moving the equipment so it was in front of her. She did it herself, then, giving up on Jayce’s help.

Fine by him. Now that he didn’t have to pay attention to two things at once, he could gaze at Viktor from where he was walking alongside the professor. They were conversing quietly amongst themselves, and it was indistinguishable with the noise of other students communicating.

“Nothing will ever happen if you don’t talk to him,” Sky said, shaking her head.

Jayce wasn’t entertaining the thought of embarrassing himself. “What would I even say?”

“Ask him for his number. That’s a good start.”

“He’s the TA, Sky,” Jayce looked at her as if her proposal was out of the question.

“Ask for his email, then.” She was focused on her work, not looking up from her efforts.

Jayce could imagine how it would go. It would be awkward, if he could even get the right words out. And what if Viktor said no? He’d have to see him in class again two days a week. Then again, the semester was ending in less than a month.

“Do it.” She pressed.

“What if he says no?” Jayce’s eyes found Viktor again. Much to his surprise, they made eye contact, as Viktor was already looking in his direction. Jayce looked away quickly. “Fuck.”

“What?” Sky raised an eyebrow.

“Is he still looking over here?”

Sky smiled at Jayce’s struggle, and turned. Viktor was looking back at the papers in front of him on the desk, and the professor was pointing something out. “All clear.”

Jayce buried his head in his hands. “This is ridiculous.”

“I agree,” Sky affirmed. “Why are you torturing yourself like this? Just talk to him.”

A voice interrupted their conversation: Viktor. “Is everything okay over here?”

Jayce sat up, moving his hands back down to the table, feigning attentiveness towards the experiment at hand. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Viktor shrugged. Jayce thought it was unfair that he could be so nonchalant while Viktor's mere presence nearly made him fall apart. “I’m just checking in. A few other students had questions.”

“We’re alright, thank you,” Sky jumped in before Jayce could go on. Viktor nodded and turned to move on.

“Thanks,” Jayce breathed, of her quick reflexes. He watched Viktor walk away, transfixed.

Sky wasn’t done. “Actually, Viktor?” The teacher’s assistant looked back, waiting. “Jayce had a question.”

Jayce shot her a glare. Viktor came over, and Jayce blanked. The moment of silence stretched so long he was sure he’d blown it.

“He wanted to ask for your number,” Sky suggested.

Jayce looked at Sky again, less of a glare, more of a nonverbal “what the hell”. She shrugged the slightest, and went back to the titration.

“Is that true?” Viktor asked Jayce, some sort of amusement in his tone. Jayce’s heart fell into his stomach. Just as he’d suspected: he looked like an idiot.

“Yes,” he admitted, with a sigh that communicated the betrayal he felt.

Viktor held out his hand. “Give me your notes.”

Jayce paled. He’d hardly taken any notes, and there were sketches of Viktor he hadn’t shown anyone. He flipped to a new page and handed it over, heart pounding at the possibility of it being looked through.

Luckily, Viktor wasn’t inspecting notes. He clicked his pen and started writing. For the first time since seeing Viktor on syllabus day, Jayce felt a real flicker of hope. When Viktor was finished, he clicked the pen again and handed Jayce the notebook.

“There you go,” he said, and he moved onto the next pair of students without another word.

“You’re welcome,” Sky said, swirling the beaker. She beamed at their science project. “Got it.”

Jayce’s eyes didn’t leave Viktor until Sky held the beaker in front of him, waiting for affirmation. “Oh, nice,” he said, recognizing her success. He looked down at the number Viktor had written.

Or, rather, the series of numbers. On the page in front of him was a carefully crafted mathematical equation, one that daunted Jayce just by looking at it. He sighed heavily. Sky peered over his shoulder.

“Damn,” she laughed. “You gotta hand it to him, that’s unique.”

“This is going to take me all night.”

“I’m assuming no study hall, then.”

“Fuck study hall,” Jayce said. “I won’t be able to study with this on my mind.”

Sky straightened up the notes she’d taken on their experiment, and passed it over for Jayce to sign. He did, right by her own signature at the bottom. “I’ll hand this in. Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Sky put her hand on his shoulder as she passed, and Jayce collected his things into his bag, save for the notebook, which he continued to look over as he walked out. Just before passing through the doorway, Jayce’s eyes found Viktor’s again, and he was almost sure he could see him smile.

“Any luck?”

Vi, Jayce’s roommate, was laying on the couch with her legs over the armrest and her head turned to the side to watch television from a different angle. The coffee table had a beer for each of them and an open box with remnants of a pepperoni pizza. Jayce’s plate was in the kitchen sink. Vi’s was on the floor within reach, a half-eaten slice waiting to be finished.

Jayce was sitting on the other side of the couch, calculator in his left hand, pen in his right, and notebook on his lap. The page was now filled with scrawling numbers, little pieces of the puzzle as he slowly worked out the equation.

“Not yet,” Jayce said. “But I’m almost there, I can feel it.”

Vi reached over to take a sip of her beer. “All this over a phone number. Must be some girl. Or guy.”

“It’s a guy.”

“Finally,” Vi sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I like the women you see. I just think you seem like you’d have a husband.”

“I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

“Okay, pretty boy,” Vi set her beer back on the table.

Jayce ignored her comments and went back to focusing. This would all make sense eventually, he knew it. He put his hand on his forehead, and then he frantically typed into the calculator, writing furiously as he went.

Once he’d found his footing in the endgame, he soared through to the final answer. Staring at the ten digits felt like relief. He stood up, smacking the notebook on the table and reaching for his phone.

“You got it?” Vi sat up, swinging her legs forward.

“I think so,” Jayce said, unlocking his phone, hands trembling. He added the number to his contacts, and sent an easy first text.

Is this Viktor?

Vi was just as invested in what was going on. She stood up and went to stand by his side, looking down at his phone. They both waited for a response.

I think you have the wrong number.

Jayce sighed in frustration. “I must’ve worked something out wrong.” He went to delete the contact, but before he could, a notification popped up.

Kidding

Jayce rolled his eyes, and Vi laughed. “You got a good one,” she said positively, leaving him to sit back on the couch, pulling out her own phone. “Oh, hey, will you tell your sister to text me back?”

“If she’s mad, there’s not much I can do about it,” Jayce answered, starting to text Viktor back but deleting every attempt. “What do I say?”

“You tell her Vi’s waiting,” she said.

“Not about Caitlyn.”

“Right,” Vi nodded. “I don’t know, small talk? How was his day? Just shoot the shit.”

“I don’t shoot the shit.”

“Yeah, you do,” Vi picked up her beer again. “You’re good at conversation, and people like you. I don’t know why this Viktor has you all scrambled.”

“He’s different,” Jayce started at the text. Before he could say anything else, another text from Viktor came through. “He asked how my day is.”

“Three texts in a row, man? He wants you.”

Jayce refused to believe that. He sat back down on the couch, reaching for his own beer, needing a drink after this. “He’s just being nice. He’s the TA.”

“I’ve heard of professors fucking students. This isn’t half as taboo.”

Jayce typed out a response, and put his phone down the second he sent it, nervous in his very bones.

I’m good, how are you?

There was no reason for him to feel this way over small talk. If he could hardly ask about Viktor’s day, how could he get to know the inner workings of his character? He decided that was a problem for future Jayce. Despite the nerves, this adrenaline was unbeatable.

Good enough. Do much with your evening?

Jayce smiled a little at the text, and responded.

Spent it working out your equation

“You’re head over heels,” Vi was watching him as he conversed via text, and he hadn’t even noticed her gaze. “You’re practically giggling at your phone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

“It’s not my fault,” Jayce argued. “You don’t get to choose who you have a crush on.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Vi put her hands up. “I hope he’s cute, at least.”

Jayce almost zoned out completely just picturing him. “He’s beautiful,” he said.

Vi laughed, and finished her beer. “I believe you,” she said. “I saw you with Mel.” She whistled. “That woman was fine, and you kept yourself together. I’m interested to see how this goes.”

She stood, picking up her plate and bottle and carrying them to the kitchen. She disposed of the bottle and leftover pizza, and set the plate in the sink. “I’ll do the dishes tomorrow,” she said, getting another beer out of the fridge and utilizing the bottle opener.

Jayce was lost in his phone as another message from Viktor came through.

You should probably do your homework.

Jayce typed furiously. Vi watched him, and laughed to herself. Jayce didn't even notice.

I’d rather talk to you

Jayce tossed his phone onto the table, burying his head in his hands again, waiting for a response.

“Jesus, Jayce,” Vi propped her legs up on the coffee table.

Jayce didn't look up. “How do you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Talk to women.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “I thought Viktor was a guy.”

“He is,” Jayce sighed, “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “How do you talk to women?”

Jayce picked up his phone, and set it back down when he saw there wasn’t a response yet. “I don’t know, I just talk to them. This is different.”

“You keep using that word. Different. Maybe it’s a good thing.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” Jayce began, and his phone buzzed. He picked it up quickly, and his face fell.

“Viktor?” Vi questioned.

Jayce was disappointed. “It’s just Cait.”

“Let me see that,” Vi reached for the phone, and Jayce held out of her reach.

“It’s not your turn,” Jayce shook his head. “Fix your thing with Caitlyn on your own time.”

“I’m trying,” Vi grumbled. “She’s holding a grudge.”

Jayce was over it. “Maybe if you hadn’t gotten into that fight, she wouldn’t have had to bail you out, and she would’ve passed her final exam.”

Vi rolled her eyes. “I said I was sorry. I didn’t know she was studying, or I would’ve called you.”

Jayce shrugged. “I would’ve let you spend the night there.” Vi punched his shoulder, but it wasn’t aggressive. “Hey,” Jayce acted like he was wounded, rubbing his arm. “Fine. You should call me first next time. Then you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“I hate being a lesbian,” Vi muttered, drinking from her second beer.

“No you don’t,” Jayce stared at his phone screen. It buzzed, and he sat up straighter.

We could talk over drinks. Friday?

“Holy shit,” Jayce breathed.

Vi was closer in an instant, reading over his shoulder. “Oh, hell yeah,” she smiled. “You’ve got a date.”

Jayce looked to her. “How do you know it’s a date? This could be a casual meeting. Just talking.”

Vi rolled her eyes, settling back in her seat. “The day you stop second-guessing yourself is the day you become irresistible.”

Jayce shook his head, phone in his hands, thumbs stalled as he racked his brain for a proper response. Not second-guessing himself was easier said than done. He never felt like this with his last girlfriend Mel, but then again, Mel knew what she wanted and made her intentions clear. Jayce couldn’t read Viktor. Not to mention, Viktor was far more intimidating. Mel was stunning. Viktor was mysterious.

Give me a time and place, and I’m there

The second he sent the text, he regretted it. There had to be a better way to say that.

Vi was scrolling through her phone, checking her social media and sending a sixth text begging Caitlyn to respond to her.

Viktor sent a time and place, just as requested. Jayce put his phone down and sat back. “Friday,” he said. “That bar off campus. Eight o’clock.”

“Go get ‘em,” Vi winked.

Jayce just rolled his eyes, finishing his beer before he stood and took the empty bottle to the trash can.

He took it upon himself to do the dishes, even though Vi had promised to do them the following day. He needed to occupy his mind, but it didn’t distract from the constant thoughts of the teacher’s assistant. What was he doing with his life? He was supposed to be an academic, working towards a degree that would finally allow him to finish the research he’d started in his youth. And, despite that, the only equation he wanted to solve was Viktor.

Jayce’s phone buzzed.

Goodnight

He sighed deeply. It had barely begun, and the game was already over.

Viktor had him right where Jayce had dreamt of being.

Jayce didn’t know how badly Viktor wanted him back.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Hi @cosmicluci thanks so much for this comment; I have thoughts, so I decided it would be easier to reply to this in a reblog so I’m not breaking it into loads of individual replies :)

I'm actually so glad someone asked more about this bc I wanna talk about it lol

Okay so we're all on the same page, this is the quote from the scene: The grave of the Countess Mircalla was opened; and the General and my father recognized each his perfidious and beautiful guest, in the face now disclosed to view. The features, though a hundred and fifty years had passed since her funeral, were tinted with the warmth of life. Her eyes were open; no cadaverous smell exhaled from the coffin. The two medical men, one officially present, the other on the part of the promoter of the inquiry, attested the marvelous fact that there was a faint but appreciable respiration, and a corresponding action of the heart. The limbs were perfectly flexible, the flesh elastic; and the leaden coffin floated with blood, in which to a depth of seven inches, the body lay immersed.

(Sourced from Project Gutenberg bc I read it on audiobook)

And a quick note in case anyone is unfamiliar: the lore in Carmilla is that vampires can be bound by strange, differing stipulations, and in this vampire's case she's bound by only ever being able to use her real name or an anagram of her real name. Her og human name was Mircalla and she went by the name Carmilla when we saw her during the novel.

What particularly caught me about this passage was that I just found it almost funny in how jarring this description is, having so much detail about Carmilla's body and then being like 'oh, also she was lying in SEVENTEEN AND A HALF CENTIMETRES OF BLOOD' it really caught me off guard lol.

There's nothing in this description that discounts the possibility of a little pillow specifically, but unless they scooped her out of the coffin to check her heartbeat and respiration then this probably isn't possible - oooo unless maybe they took a pulse from her throat and tracked breathing from her nose and/or mouth?

The potential buoyancy is intriguing me so I'm going to do some research into that rn -

Blood is denser than water, but minimally. According to Drology, which was the first site that came up when I searched for this, blood is approximately 1.06 g/ml, whilst water is approximately 1 g/ml.

I have found a buoyancy calculator online and am about to do some maths (why am I this invested in this? no-one knows)

According to purecremation.co.uk, the average coffin size is 60cm wide and 200 to 210cm long; let's call that 60 cm x 205 cm, which is 24 inches x 82 inches or thereabouts. So the volume of blood in the coffin was 60 x 205 x 17.5 = 215,210 cubic cm, or 0.215250 cubic metres.

Carmilla was written in 1872. We can assume Carmilla is originally from Austria (when alive) based on the context added late on in the novel about how she became a vampire, and she is also described as appearing approximately similar in age to Laura, who is 19. I have been researching this for a while now and I cannot find anything definitive on the average mass of twenty year old women in Austria in the 1870s, but I've probably already overestimated the size of her coffin because people used to be on average shorter than they are now so let's jsut assume there will be small discrepancies in this research. I found the current average mass of an Austrian woman between 18-25 was reported to be 68.1 kg, which means that she would displace 0.0681 cubic metres of volume when she lay in that volume of water or 0.0667 cubic metres of blood if she lay in blood.

The buoyancy calculator asks for the following details: the fluid type from a drop down list, the volume of displaced liquid, the mass of displaced fluid, and the gravitational acceleration (pre-set at 9.81 m/s-1). It doesn't have a blood setting, weirdly enough, but starting with if she were in water ->

A displaced mass of 68.1 kg means a buoyant force of 667.8 Newtons.

There may not be a blood setting, but you CAN manually enter a fluid density so if we change that to our 1.06 g/ml ->

the buoyant force is still equal to 667.8 N.

I have to assume there would be some differences if the number weren't rounded, but I don't think a large enough difference to account for Carmilla floating.

She may have been lighter than this, but she also may have been in a small coffin so that would mean a lower volume of blood to float on. We also have to consider that maybe there was just some weird vampire shit going on

I feel like another relevant question should be how did it not smell bad if there was a 7 inch deep pool of blood in there. I also can't remember if there was any kind of explanation for why Carmilla didn't wake up and/or put up any kind of fight during this scene and her ultimate destruction, so that's potentially also a relevant discussion

ALSO - I am not a physicist, I'm a literature-obsessed biologist, so if I am completely incorrect about buoyancy someone please correct me.

Anyway, it's just a book, I know, and a fantasy book at that, but this was fun and interesting to me. There's no hate to Carmilla here btw, if anything this has made me look even more fondly on it bc I had fun :)

Welcoming more thoughts and theories on this!

Read Carmilla today and was describing to my best friend the scene where they open the coffin and find Carmilla lying in 7 inches of blood, both of us very confused how an entire 7 inches of blood was lying in this coffin

Now we’re British so we did some quick maths and determined that 7 inches is ~17.5cm and that sounds insane so I went to find my tape measure; I couldn’t find it but I found a 4 inch/10 cm ruler

My friend lay on their back on the floor of our living room whilst I measure them with this ruler and we have determined, especially since Carmilla is described as “slender”, that if she was lying in an entire 7 inches of blood that the only thing that would be visible would be the top of her nose

This was a scientific experiment

[colorisbyshe]

I think part of the frustration with people being so uninformed by historical movements, especially 2nd wave feminism, is that they don’t get that political lesbianism as a movement was deeply lesbophobic too, and still realistically hurts lesbians today with the subconscious attitude that simply choosing not to date men or interact with men is what makes a lesbian. Which then is how you also get weirdos thinking lesbians should make space to give dating men a shot. And thinking lesbians, who are not attracted to men, are exactly the same as the rage bait terf folks harping about cutting men off from dating women.

Obviously this is. A facet of the larger problem with this ideology, but it’s frustrating how few people acknowledge how damaging it was for more than lesbian separatist reasons. Straight women (a significant amount of political lesbians) largely trying to take over lesbian spaces in the name of feminism was also deeply traumatic for the community too.

Absolutely, it was also a grossly biphobic movement AND.... misogynistic. Second wave feminism, separatist feminism, political lesbianism found a way to really attack all women on an ideological level, not even getting into how the entire era was also... deeply racist.

Political lesbianism was not for lesbians (especially when its leaders tried to define lesbian as just women who didn't date men, by choice or otherwise) or any other women attracted to women. It wasn't for anyone other than the most privileged of women and often led to just attacking more vulnerable, more marginalized women.

While the ideology is not identical, movements like 4B are not for the longterm benefit of most women. Or most marginalized people. (When you separate women as the only cause worth caring about, you leave out... every marginalized group. When you stop caring abut the rights of every marginalized group, you inevitably harm... the women of those groups.)

I'm not even going to claim to be an expert on any of these movements: I have done readings on those I am speaking about but haven't done extremely deep dies into them but part of why I haven't is because... the flaws ae on the surface level. You don't really have to get into the nitty gritty or nuance of these movements to realize that they are fundamentally flawed.

To have a movement that effectively says "Women's oppression is literally stored in the balls (ie the sex with men, which are presumed to be people with balls)" is... inherently stupid. You aren't more or less oppressed when you have sex with or date men. Men aren't getting their power from sex or romance with women. You aren't really harming or criticizing rape culture.

Likewise with political lesbianism, being perpetually single or fucking women doesn't free you from misogyny's impact or even necessarily empower you against it. "Act the right way towards men or you deserve what you get from them" isn't feminism. It is victim blaming, though.

These movements just sort of become... prescriptivist in the same way the systems they're supposedly rebelling against. "Act this way or you're the enemy." "Do this or you deserve what you get."

"Our gender MUST act this way" only ever hurts your gender.

Which is the flaw of most radical feminist movements. They exist to take power from men and then lord that same power over more vulnerable and/or more "deviant" women. Or any other more vulnerable group (like white radfems using white supremacy in tandem with their radical feminism).

There's nothing wrong with being a lesbian. There's nothing wrong with being bisexual or straight and choosing to not date or have sex with men. For whatever reason.

Turning that into political movement where you then try to dictate the right/wrong ways to have sex, date as some sort of moral code... that's where you are just recreating the harms you're supposedly against.

Like... on the most obvious level, these movements are extremely stupid and there's no other way to frame that. They’re not just morally bad, they make no fucking sense. Even if you don't understand the bioessentialism, the way certain identities are stripped of meaning or politicized even when they're innate, or whatever...

just on its face... how the fuck are women liberated by new terms dictating what sex and love they're allowed to have, what reproductive choices they're allowed to make? implying by having sex with someone gives them power is inherently and obviously harmful

we need to be so fucking real

[yourhighness6]

It's funny to me when people insist that "ATLA was really feminist" as if there wasn't really only one feminist message which was the very generic "girls can fight too" spiel that every 2000s show had going on whenever they briefly tried to jump on the feminism bandwagon or whatever

[eikichi-supremacy]

crying myself to sleep im so sorry they cut you out atsuko they couldn't handle the cunt you were serving im so sorry but i know i saw you cheer on your son during the dark tourney i saw you hold onto a dying puu i was there i know

[wavebiders]

LRT that is such a thing with queer fandom spaces tho. It's like that post that's all "yeah your story is so gay but how are you treating your female characters" you know?

like yeah it's great that this is the queer fandom website but a good chunk of the time that just means placing a lot of focus on the white guys and that's still not great lmao

[kwyoz]

omgg YESSS pansexual romances!!!

if any of you call them playersexual im going to fucking haunt you.

[enha-stars]

y’all ain’t ready for this sunghoon fic i’m cooking up 😂😂😂

[gracemarkss]

trying to gather my thoughts on unruhe. something about this exchange is so vital to me…about how scully maybe isn’t as natural a seeker as mulder. about how her work as a pathologist is focused on “how” rather than “why”…whereas mulder’s profiling is the inverse. a woman is dead and a man killed her and no amount of probing the inner workings of his psyche, his dreams, his nightmares will remedy that situation. discovering the why doesn’t bring about any deeper sense of justice or peace. because really, no why could ever really explain the mundane horror of a woman’s abduction and murder. if anything, it just more starkly reveals the ugly simplicity of the human capacity for cruelty.

but i also love how later, she leans on the why. she channels mulder and his profiler brain. schnauz even picks up on it (“great. now they got you talking like sigmund freud,” in reference to him calling mulder freud during his interrogation). she asks him why he does it. why her. why this. why did his sister kill herself. why did his father do what he did. part of it’s to keep schnauz talking but it’s also another example of how she reaches for him, even metaphorically, in moments of fear and difficulty.

i also love how this episode, with its themes of unrest and strife and trouble, focuses on scully. mulder is usually the more restless character, always searching and seeking and chasing and moving. but scully is just as, if not maybe even more so. her mother’s remaining daughter. her father’s disappointment. a catholic to her bones, even as she lapses. a woman in a man’s job. who imagines a life to be a husband and kids and big sunday dinners, but who can’t stop following the mad man in the basement. who always insists she’s fine, who locks it all away, who chafes and squirms and explodes in impulsive incendiary bursts. who is always always trying.

there are just some things we don’t or can’t look too deeply into. if god is real, or why the woman in front of us is dead. scully will dig and scrape for proof and explanations for many things, but some interrogations aren’t worth the effort, or the fear of what might be found. some things just are, and they’re too big to move or change or overcome. women die because men kill them. what the hell does it matter?

[starringvincentprice]

Terror mutuals you won and I finished the show now.

anyways

[musical-chick-13]

"This show is SO good, you should watch it!!"

I gotta be honest. If I look at a character list on Wikipedia and get five characters down without seeing a single woman, it's probably not for me.

[cheeseknives]

Watching this makes really stressed about healthy and safety regulations...

[lesbiansanemi]

The kny fandom never really irritated me THAT much about anything until their reaction to the stupid Hantengu clones