#this is compounded for me by the fact that like

[drdemonprince]

probably my most metaphysical yet sincerely held belief is that i have a really high luck stat and generally things will work out for me and i'll come out of problems mostly unscathed. like, even relative to people with the same amount of structural and social privileges as me, i just tend to win and dodge bullets way more often. in fact, the less i try and perseverate in worry, the more things seem to work out. i also do genuinely believe, in the feelings sense if not the logical one, that arieses are filled with a kind of blessed golden light that makes the world look more favorably upon them. i can sometimes make what seems like rash decisions to other people but i do so trusting upon the luck i've always had, and you know what, nothing seems to predict the near future quite so well as the recent past. there probably is some mechanism underlying some of this -- when you have a kind of positive or unshakable energy emanating off of you, people do tend to defer to you, and obviously social privileges are a massive factor in that -- but i also see it manifest in random things like a person always returning my phone immediately after i've lost it, sight unseen. i do think that despite being a commensurate hater i do tend to notice the little favors and graces that people offer me more than a lot of folks do, too, and outlook-wise those things do have a tendency to compound.

[transsexula]

I think you missed my point! I'm not trying to say that transmisogyny is strictly directed at trans women. Though I can see how my wording makes it seem I'm trying to say that.

It's just two different words for two different types of experiences with transphobia. Misandry isn't the point of transandrophobia- though I've heard a few convincing arguments that there are *situational* issues with trans men having to deal with actual literal terfs. But that's not so much the issue that gets talked about with this.

Like- my core experience as a trans man, is being denied masculinity, and being treated like shit for BEING a man. Yeah, some of this can be connected to misogyny- but there's something very very different about growing up in extremely right wing environments. Not being allowed to cut your hair short, not being allowed to dress masculine, having horrible things done to me specifically because I am presenting as a man- something that I am not supposed to have access to.

I used the "two sides of the same coin" because it feels like it fits for this discussion. This isn't a mirror of transmisogyny- its intrinsically tied to it in some really awful ways! Both with the transphobia element- and the misogyny element.

Two sides of a spectrum of experiences with transphobia.

Actually- I'm trying to recall the username of the person I spoke to about this, hopefully she sees and can add on- she spoke about how being a butch trans lesbian has given her experience with both transmisogyny and transandrophobia- because presenting as a butch woman brought on hatred both for being a woman, AND presenting in a masc nature within her womanhood.

The way she explained it was very nice, I feel like im doing a huge disservice here. Like you said- it's not the opposite of transmisogyny. It's just different.

Two sides, one coin, same horrible root cause (hatred or trans people, gender non-conformity, and a whole garden variety of horrific misogyny)

On the same note, I've dealt with transmisogyny personally, too, as a trans man. So I know for a fact it's not just The Thing For Trans Women Only or Transphobia But Pink- it affects many, many queers in many different ways. As I mentioned before-transandrophobia isn't just for trans guys either.

It's also highly contextual- like. Not everyone is gonna get the same flavor of transphobia directed at them. It varies, sometimes they get mixed- sometimes it's just All the bigotry (racism compounding on transphobia compounding on misogyny compounding on transandrophobia)

And. I think another thing worth bringing up is that the -androphobia is very intrinsically tied to the "trans-" portion of the word. You can't dissect it without going through religious history, and wading through veerrryy specific political climates that lead to some very real very brutal happenings towards trans men, and masculine presenting people. I understand not many people like talking about it, because we automatically assume that everyone everywhere is way more chill with GNC "women" than GNC "men" when in many cultures, many places, if you're GNC at ALL you can be punished or killed for it. Plus there's the added bonus that trans men, and trans mascs up till recent haven't really been talked about all that much.

Actually! That's another good point to kinda show what I mean- trans women get talked about non stop, and it causes enormous issues. They're hyper focused on. Targeted. It's not good- but neither is complete Silence and erasure. Trans men get the other side in this scenario- it's rooted in the same issue (transphobia) but presents itself way different because. No one wants to pay any mind to "delusional little girls". Until they grow beards and get muscles and become a "threat" to "other delusional little girls"

I'm trying to find the best words for all of this. Really my argument is just that it's all intrinsically tied together, and that fighting about what words we use isn't really helpful in the long run. It would be better if we could all just talk about our experiences and find the common ground, give each other support in the areas we may not personally understand.

Anyways, thank you for listening to me ramble. I hope my brain fog today hasn't made this a chore to wade through.

my core issue with the transandrophobia nonsense is that it paints transmisogyny as some kind of “pink transphobia”, rather than the intersectional form of oppression that it is

this is especially annoying when the transmisogyny tag get glutted with people talking about how little they care about transmisogyny!

[fast-burn]

aliens with any pairing but maybe... max/GP and max is an alien?! or vice versa?

this makes me sooooo so happy, xeno stuff is my happy place 🥰🥰🥰 science fiction + erotica my beloved

in fact this made me so happy that it's 4.4k long, so you can read the fic here if you prefer it on ao3 😵‍💫

kink list here

XXX

Mx.V.33-1 was their longest-lasting subject at RB Research Labs Milton Keynes. He had large, wide set eyes and a plush mouth, a neat row of pointy teeth, webbed fingers tipped with tiny talons, and gills along the side of his neck. He had grayish skin that was blue in the right light; it was soft to the touch. When extremely inebriated, GP could be pressed into admitting that he found Mx.V.33-1 somewhat cute, though it was certainly his bias as the lead scientist on the project. He called Mx.V.33-1 Max, for short, and it had stuck with everyone else in the lab.

Because he was extremely sapient—had mastered four languages and was working on Latin, was good at chess, even better at FIFA, loathed coursework but put up with it for the sake of science—Max had free reign of the RB compound. It wasn't safe to let him wander far alone, but he could spend hours out of his deep, salt-water tank. He liked wearing white t-shirts and jeans. He liked going for rides around the countryside in GP's Mini, and more often than not got his way when he asked to get behind the wheel and turn donuts in farmers' fields. He liked dogs and cats equally. He liked raw beef, and chocolate, and tomato soup. For the most part, he liked the research team.

GP was fully aware that his reciprocal fondness for Max was far from professional, but it didn't stop him from feeling that way. In his heart, Max was his ward, not an experiment. That's why he was at the lab on a Saturday, happily covering for a junior assistant who wanted to go visit her mum in hospital.

He'd brought a whole tray of Kinder Eggs for Max, hoping they could while away some of the day by combining the toy parts to make some new mechanical monstrosity. Max's creativity was endlessly fascinating. GP could put the results in the daily report, but mostly he just wanted to watch Max have some fun, and make chocolate disappear faster than GP could unwrap the foil.

The lights were already on when GP beeped past the locked double-doors, set on a timer to mimic the sunrise and set outside. Max was nowhere to be seen from this side of the tank.

"You are not supposed to be here," Max's voice crackled through the lab speakers—a clever bit of engineering that could parse speech through the water. "You don't come on weekends."

"Well spotted, Max," GP said, rolling his eyes as he took off his sodden coat. It was raining to beat the band out there, but that was England for you.

"Why are you here?"

GP shuffled the computer mouse to wake up the screen, and started typing in his epic-length password. "Don't you want to see the present I've brought you?"

Max swam out of his privacy enclosure and up to the front of the tank. "Yes please," he said.

Something was very wrong.

"You're pink," GP remarked. Mostly pink, but in some places purple, and in others a coral-orange. He glanced at Max's basic vitals on the computer screen. His dual heartbeat was elevated, though nothing beyond standard range. "Do you feel alright?"

"Fine," Max said, except he shrank back from GP a fraction, body curling in on itself. "Don't worry."

If Max was just another alien plant or sponge or fungus in the lab, GP would be merely curious, or maybe downright intrigued, but Max meant so much more than that. Of course GP was worried. "I'll need to take a fluid sample."

Max grimaced. "Ugh, no. It's okay, this is normal."

"You have an established normal. It doesn't include pink."

"It's just...my time," Max said, cheeks blooming spotty shades of purple. He was embarrassed. Several things clicked for GP at once.

"You're in estrus," GP concluded, and Max retreated from the front of the tank entirely in a flurry of bubbles.

They hadn't done much experimentation into Max's reproductive system. Obviously Max had one, but all his gonads were internal and seemed somewhat inert, and so they didn't poke at it much. They were far more interested in Max's DNA and its ability to adapt, crucial data being generated in stem cell research. And there was, of course, the opportunity to observe a humanoid member of an alien species learn to communicate, and thrive.

Max always glommed on to the profane and inappropriate first in any language he learned, and was a delightfully naughty encyclopedia for dirty jokes—something that especially pleased the linguists in the lab. Other than that, Max hadn't displayed much in the way of reproductive attributes. He didn't even use his computer login to look at pornography, just watched a lot of late night Twitch streams. They each had their theories about it: lack of an appropriate partner, or impracticality of breeding in capture, or complex and ephemeral alien sexuality. It hadn’t really been relevant, and now GP was floundering.

"You're not supposed to be here," Max whined again, voice just as clear from wherever he'd hidden himself.

"Well, I am," GP replied. "Let's just get you sorted out. What can I do to make you comfortable?"

"Nothing," said Max, but he was a bad liar, tone going suspiciously flat. "You can go home."

"I'd appreciate it if you came out to the auxiliary tank and I could give you a check-up. After that, if you want me to leave, I will." GP sat down at the desk and loaded up the daily report. He typed the date. Mx.V.33-1 showing signs of he started, but then paused. He minimized the window.

When Max had been brought to RB, nearly a decade ago, Dr. Marko had rolled him into the lab in a tangled fishing net, with several hunks of debris trapped alongside him. Max was frightened, skin flaking and eyes darting about. Where there's one, there's a pair, Marko had said, and Horner next to him had actually rubbed his hands together with glee.

Maybe it was better if GP consulted his team on Monday, in person. He opened the software for the lab's cameras, and changed the settings to encrypt the day's recording to his thumbprint.

Max was a beautiful creature. This was far too private for the likes of the RB upper brass. 

GP heard the telltale thumping as Max swam into the smaller side tank. It was wide enough to hold four Maxes, but only as deep as a bathtub, designed to be comfortable for both subject and scientist. He grabbed the med kit and a laptop from the storage trolley, and rolled his chair over.

"I am only putting up with this so you'll leave," Max said, arms folded on the edge of the tub, his hair slicked back from his forehead and sticking up at all angles. His voice was softer in the open air, rather than the tinny recreation of the speaker. He smelled different than usual, too. More musky, but also more sweet, like burnt sugar. "Go ahead and run your experiments, if you must."

"Fuck the experiments," GP said with more feeling than he intended, and the expletive made Max quirk a smile.

Max unfolded one of his arms, and GP started attaching sensors. He was a dusty-rose colour all over, slippery because of the salt and the protective film Max's body started generating if he hadn't been out of the tank for a couple days. GP had to use special wipes so that the sensors would actually hold. Usually, Max was a very good sport and held perfectly still. Now when GP touched him, he jolted, just slightly.

"Tell me about what you're feeling," GP asked as the data started rolling in on the laptop.

Max's gills finally sealed shut and he started breathing through his nose. "Restless. Irritated. Sensitive, also."

GP looked up at Max, blushing purple again. "Sensitive where?"

"You know," Max said as he squirmed. GP had no idea where. He could make an educated guess, but that only went as far as extrapolating from human experience. Unless, of course, he touch Max and find out that way.

He changed tactics. "Is this the first you've had your—your time?"

Max snorted. "I have of course been alive for many years. This is my fourth," he said, "but I have not had one for a while."

"When was the last time?"

"Right before I was," Max looked down, and then at the wall. "Before I came here."

Ah. That told GP a lot. Max ordinarily went into an estrus phase more frequently than every eight years, and it made him very vulnerable, especially as he was recovering. He should be in his sexual prime, but something about being at the lab prevented that. And, just as notably, something recently had pushed him back into his regular hormonal cycle. GP didn't know how far in the data he had to review, but he made a mental note to look back three months, at least.

He broke a fresh tab out of its package and held the receptive end up to Max. "Lick, please," he said, and Max's tongue flashed out dutifully to wet it with his saliva. GP placed it into the scanner which whirred to life as it started calculating hormone levels. "Do you usually spend your time with a group, or a partner, or alone?"

Max scowled, and his heart rate ticked up on the laptop screen. "Are you asking if I have wild orgies or if I just jerk off by myself?"

"Something like that," GP said. He knew Max preferred him to be straight-forward with his questions, but it didn't stop Max from giving rude answers. "If you like, you can just tell me the standard. I don't have to know your personal sexual history."

"My personal—" Max balked and sank deeper into the water. "It is supposed to be with a partner."

"Sorry I can't help with that," GP said, thinking of how little interest Max had shown to anyone else in the lab, at least in that sense. It would be an incredible breach in decorum to ask anyone to help Max through estrus, but he knew any of them would still be happy to help.

Max's plum flush spread to the seashell curves of his ears. "I did not expect you to."

GP changed the subject. "Can we go back to the sensitivity?"

"I'd rather you just guess."

"Well," GP went on, "for example with the human species, we tend to feel—"

"Yes, I know all about it," Max snapped, popping back up with a soft splash. "It is the same for me, but slightly different. Go on and write it in the report. That's all you need to say."

"I'm not making a report," GP said slowly.

Max looked at the laptop screen for the first time. "You're not? But you're asking me questions like you are."

"That's because I want to help you. Max," he said, holding back the urge to make him look GP in the eyes, "fuck the experiments."

Finally, Max seemed to relax. He tugged at his ear, rubbed his thumb across his lips, the beauty mark there. "Okay, well if it's just you who wants to know, maybe it is better if I show you."

Max tugged on the zippered front of his navy wetsuit—clothing he insisted upon more for cultural adaptation than any real modesty. The base of his throat was pinker than his arms, legs, and face. His chest was a little swollen. And then Max tugged the zip over a bulge on his abdomen.

It was convex, like a wide bowl, or...like a baby bump, such a pale pink that it was almost white, the skin stretched taut over Max's distended stomach. GP refrained from reaching out; they had assured Max that he was welcome to scratch up anyone who didn't get permission to touch. But he wanted to , so desperately. He wanted to palpate it and soothe the ache, or maybe make it worse. The desire was so sudden and unexpected that GP was nauseous.

He sat with his fists curled on his knees, lips pressed together, and watched as Max leaned back and kept unzipping his suit.

The slit between Max's legs was gently parted and swollen, the tip of something bright pink peeking out from inside. That had to be Max's penis, or some kind of clitoral tissue. Maybe an ovipositor. It was hard to tell with the distortion of the water.

"This is where I am most sensitive," Max said, hands going to frame his slit, and spreading—

A blip came from the laptop, and GP turned his head instinctively to see the hormonal report load on screen. They had it set to display the standards along with new results so that they could see the differences, and a gradient map to show extremes. Several bars were deep red.

"GP."

He looked back at Max.

"You're not paying attention," he complained. "This is very intimate, and you are looking at the computer."

"Intimate?" GP choked.

Max grasped GP's wrist and dragged him forward. "Here," he said as GP's fingers splayed over Max's belly. "Feel how full. Push down on it."

The skin was coolish compared to the tight grip of Max's hand. GP pushed gently, and Max groaned, an uninhibited sound bouncing off every surface in the room. There was a shift in Max's abdomen, and something squirted out of Max's slit. "Max—"

"Oh, yes," Max sighed, eyes fluttering. "Yes, thank you, GP."

GP looked down and pushed again, and watched a bright orange object shoot out of Max. It was slightly bigger than a marble.

"Is that an egg?" he asked, tongue buzzing in his mouth.

Max nodded and let go of GP. "I have more than usual. It is supposed to be less than twelve. You can't even see them from the outside, normally, but it has been so long."

The two eggs that Max had released rested on the bottom of the tub. "So you're a...carrier, then?"

"I can do both," Max said. "When I have my time, I produce the eggs of course, but I can be the other half whenever. It is very lucky, for us. Not everyone can be two in one."

Max was special; GP could have told anyone that. "That's wonderful. Well done," he said, and Max practically glowed with the compliment.

"Will you help me lay them?"

GP's fingers twitched on Max's stomach. "I can keep pushing."

"No," Max said. "There's a better way."

Desire stirred in GP, making his cock swell in his pants. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry. "What do you mean?"

Max pulled off his suit and tossed it on the edge of the tub with a wet slap. "I want you to fuck me."

GP swallowed. He'd never—he wouldn't. Max was his responsibility to care for. There were whole documents on ensuring that Max wasn't ever abused in his capture, and it all came down to what Max wanted. If what Max felt like doing all day was to play video games, that's exactly what happened. If Max stayed in his privacy enclosure for a week, they didn't drag him out.

Palpating Max's abdomen to induce spawning was one thing, but fucking him was—

Max pushed up against the edge of the tub and pressed his mouth to GP’s.

"What," GP started to say against Max's lips, but Max just kissed him harder. He was firm, and his nose dug into GP’s cheekbone.

"That's how humans start when they want to fuck, right?" Max said when he released him a moment later. "I saw two of them doing it in the corner over there when they thought no one was looking."

Part of GP wanted to ask which two because he had about a hundred quid on various office romance pools. "That's similar to what we do, for sure."

Max groaned, fisting his talons in GP's lab coat. "Then show me how."

GP tilted his head and kissed Max properly. Max's mouth was salty, of course, but also slick and soft. He learned quickly, like he did everything else, lapping at GP's tongue and then sucking on it. He nibbled on GP's lower lip with his triangular teeth, little blades that he was so, so careful with.

"That is weird," Max proclaimed when he pulled away, "but nice. Can we fuck now? You are wearing too many clothes."

"This isn't the most precious place for it," GP admitted. He couldn't easily take Max to bed, though the thought of having Max under him at his flat was deliciously tempting. Max, home with GP on the weekends, raiding his fridge and demanding sex at all hours of the day. Insatiable, bratty, gorgeous Max.

"It doesn't matter," said Max, climbing out of the tub. "Just get naked."

"Don't the eggs have to be in water?"

Max rolled his eyes and started tugging on GP's clothes, clearly annoyed at how GP wasn't dropping trou fast enough. "They are of course not fertilized. I just want them out."

GP's lab coat was a lost cause, huge holes shredded through the fabric already, so he took over for his sweater before Max could attack that too. Max sat back against the lip of the tub, apparently pleased to watch now. It was just after Christmas and GP wasn't too thrilled with his physique after gobbling down a whole roast he'd bought just for himself, but he did alright at the company gym. Max's body was sleek and chubby in places, like a seal, to keep warm in the water.

As soon as GP shucked his trousers to his ankles, Max was in his lap. The chair squeaked dangerously beneath them.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Max asked. That was another part of the care-and-keeping of Max: he had a right to his own internal life. If Max wanted to tell any of them a secret, it would stay between just those two.

"Of course you can," GP replied.

Max rocked in his lap, leaving a puddle of tank water and protective fluid. "I was thinking about you," he said, grinding his wet slit against GP's briefs and his erection. "Like this. I wanted to have you just like this. That's why all the eggs came." He leaned forward and spoke right in GP's ear, a soft murmur that none of the microphones around the lab would catch, "You knocked me up."

GP groaned, dizzy from the rush of blood down south. He clutched Max's hips without asking, but Max just pressed himself deeper into GP's lap. His pregnant little belly pressed against GP's stomach and a fresh splurt of wetness soaked them both.

He wrestled his dick out, hand already slippery from whatever secretion Max's slit was producing. "Put it where you want it," GP said, because he didn't know where Max's vaginal entrance was mapped compared to a human's.

Max wrapped his hot, webbed hand around GP's length and guided it until the tip was in the right place. Then he sank down on it, a perfect slick slide. The muscles he had inside rippled around GP's cock. "Fuck, fuck, that feels so good," Max said, swiveling his hips, getting used to the space. "Oh, GP, you're so big, you're so warm. And hard."

"What do you—" GP started to say, and Max took GP's hand to guide it to the front of his slit.

"Here, feel," he said, making GP press against the pink flushed member that GP had only glimpsed in the tub. It was slim, maybe five or six centimeters long, tapered at the end, coated in fluid. "Be gentle with me."

"Alright," GP agreed, stroking up and down the length with two fingers.

Max shuddered, his passage clenching around GP. "See? Very different. I'll tell you another secret: it's small."

"It's just the right size."

Max shook his head. He braced his hands against GP's shoulders, talons pricking slightly. "I am just stating the comparison. I don't have the standard length. But that is fine, because this is what I want," he said, pushing up and sliding down, riding GP's cock.

GP turned his head and kissed Max's neck, over the seal of his gills. He could feel the slight difference in texture, like a stretchmark or an old scar. Max whimpered and his passage clenched. He leaked more slick. GP rocked up into him, unable to help himself.

"Do humans kiss everywhere?" Max asked.

"Yes," GP admitted, lips moving across Max's gills again, making him pulse. "Everywhere."

Max got impossibly wetter. "Would you kiss my pussy?"

GP's mouth dropped open, shocked dumb enough that only an ugly grunt came out of him, and Max laughed.

"I am of course just messing with you. I know all about cunnilingus and oral sex," Max leaned back and smiled with his sharp teeth. "We can try it another time. Right now I need you to fuck me as hard as you can, or the eggs won't come out."

"You're really giving me a rough time, teasing me like that," GP said, and snapped his hips up.

Max moaned, liquid around him for a moment before he squeezed. "Is it working?"

GP thrust in again, using his hands on Max's hips to bring their bodies together.

"Harder than that, come on," said Max, and GP did. "Harder. Really hard, I won't break. Can't you feel how wet I am for you?"

It was a challenge in the rolling chair, but GP spread his knees for leverage and really thrust—a pace that he would have considered brutal otherwise, but Max just gasped and grinned. So GP kept going, a mindless, animalistic fuck, surely bruising. Max moaned like a pornstar, high and whining.

"Feel so good," GP said.

"Tell me," gasped Max. "I want it. Tell me a secret, tell me, tell me."

"Wet, slutty little cunt," he grunted, dragging up the nastiest parts of himself as he fucked into Max. "Gonna make you heat all the time. Look at you, you're so desperate. Can't do anything 'cause you just want my cock so deep in you, making you take it."

Max's belly tensed, his walls fluttering rhythmically around GP's cock. "Yes, I want that," he said. "Always."

"Tiny baby dick because you just want to be bred, don't you? That's all you're good for?"

"Please," Max whimpered. "So close. Harder, GP, please."

"Any harder and I'll fuck right through you." GP's legs were burning, back aching, but he kept going, driving himself closer to the edge. He rubbed Max's slim, short cock between his fingers. Max cried out, urgent. "That's it, go on. Come for me."

"I will, I will," Max chanted, his head tilting back and the base of his throat fuchsia, trembling with the rest of him. Suddenly, GP's cock slipped out of him on a thrust, and Max burst, eggs squirting out of him and splattering the floor as he screamed. GP pressed on Max's belly, helping it along, and felt it decompress under his palm, everything squeezing out in an orgasmic rush.

When it was done, Max's entrance drooled as he gasped, perched over GP's lap as he caught his breath. There must have been a hundred eggs on the floor, most of them orange, but a few more yellowish or more red. They were wet, and a couple rolled away, leaving shiny snail trails in their wake.

"Wow," GP said, which was an understatement. He pushed again on Max's stomach, but it was empty now, and Max just whimpered.

"If we were going to have a baby," Max panted, "you would have to come on the eggs."

GP's cock bounced, the crown smearing against Max's used hole. "I don't think it will work."

"Too bad." Max spread his slit open with his hands, just like he had earlier in the tub. "I guess you'll just have to do it on me instead."

It was only a matter of a dozen or so strokes, everything still so lubricated, absolutely sopping, and then GP aimed himself right at the soft, secret core of Max and climaxed, painting the folds with pearly release.

Max was a welcome weight in GP's lap afterward, and there was no scientific way to explain how they just rested and snuggled for the better part of ten minutes. It wasn't unusual for Max to be affectionate, but he was selective about it, and rarely did he want to endure it for long.

It was when GP's knees started shaking that Max finally got up. "I knew you would be good at that," Max said, smiling like GP was the experiment, gone perfectly to plan. "I might make eggs again, soon. This was so many at once, so I think next time will be a little different. But you will help me again." There was no room in his tone for GP to argue, but he wouldn't dream of it.

"I'm glad it won't be so messy next time." GP surveyed the general disaster zone around the chair and was already dreading the cleanup.

Max slipped back into the tub, and dove down for a moment before popping back up with the two eggs that he'd released in the water. He put one of them in his mouth and bit down, the squelch in his mouth like a cherry tomato.

GP must have given Max some sort of look, because he offered the second egg in his open palm. "Want one?"

"Absolutely not."

"They are an excellent source of nutrients. A waste if you don't eat them unfertilized, but I am not picking them up off the floor," he said. When GP still didn't take the offered egg, he shrugged and popped it in his mouth too.

GP felt his gut roll uncomfortably. "You don’t have to eat those. I brought you Kinder Eggs."

"What!" Max exclaimed. "GP, you did not say! How many? Can I have them now?"

"If you help me with mopping," he said, and Max hummed, considering.

"Just give me a minute," Max replied. "I can still feel your come on me. I should clean that first. And I want to see how it tastes."

GP sat down hard in the chair, and when it skidded backwards on the slick floor, another handful of eggs went racing jauntily away across the lab.

[benzedrine-calmstheitch]

So I saw The Apprentice (2024) today, and came on this site to look for screen caps or gifs to reblog. But what I’ve found is a lot of publicity photos of Sebastian Stan and a few interviews about the film, but… nothing of the film itself. Which makes me think most of his fans who are blogging about him being in it aren’t actually watching it. And yknow, fair, it’s not an appealing log line, I get it.

But 1) he’s really good in it. And, more importantly, 2) it’s a good film and obviously Very Relevant right now!

I don’t know I just think at this point it’s such a given for some of us that he’s awful as much as it’s a given for others that he’s a Success, and these two groups of people have entirely forgotten to actually care about the fact that what we separately think is not the same thing. We should care about that! We should want this film! We should not be so averse to the complexity of human beings!

[dykedvonte]

You ever just see a Mouthwashing take that makes you want to bang your head into a wall? I literally just saw someone claim Curly couldn't have been emotionally abused by Jimmy before the crash because he was in a higher position of power than Jimmy.

-Shrimp Anon

The mouthwashing fandom has shown me that people genuinely do believe that certain types of abuse are not as detrimental as other types especially when they deem those immune/resistant, ergo, believing one is objectively worse no matter how it affects the person nor the intersections of power, history and dynamics at play.

Get ready cause this is a yap session:

Cause like it's heavily implied that Curly and Jimmy's friendship was toxic and abusive, pointedly in the direction of how Jimmy uses Curly's belief/comfort in him. Curly wasn't forced to enable Jimmy but he was emotional and mentally on edge around him in almost every scene in some way. Mental and emotional abuse are not contingent on what positions you have at work. Yeah, he's Jimmy's boss but he was Jimmy's friend first and it's like getting into Psych discussion to talk about how social power tends to overshadow any perceived organizational power in the human mind. People are concerned about their jobs ofc but they tend to hang onto and put more value/investment into their personal relationships, hence why there tends to be laws and restrictions around mixing the two.

I always see the sentiments that "Curly is a grown ass man", "Curly is bigger than Jimmy", "Curly is Jimmy's boss", "He just needed a backbone" as criticisms of Curly and while I do agree that on the surface level all of these to be true and viable ways Curly could've taken more control of the situation, I often look at the parallels of Anya and Curly as victims of Jimmy pre/post crash.

The way Jimmy talks to Anya post crash is how he talked to Curly in the pre-crash segments. It's hard to pin-point mainly because we know he hates and wants nothing to do with Anya compared to his contrary but similarly handled obsessions with Curly. It's a weird sort of "honey-moon" effect of abuse Jimmy does in terms of emotional and mental victimization. He is always horrid to Anya, always talking down or questioning her abilities and thoughts in a situation, this of course includes the harassment and assault. However, he has a moment of attempted gentleness/conditioning when he question her about the mouthwash when she's contemplating drinking it at the table. The key difference is he has no personal investment in Jimmy outside wanting nothing to do with him, meaning there is no sort of romanticized version of him that he can condition her off of. He knows this, hence, why he always reverts to trying to make her to scared to oppose him.

This sort of give and take of "kindness" doesn't work on her because she knows he is just doing it to take more from her than whatever he could possibly give but it reflects even the "softer" scenes between him and Curly where he always rewords or rephrases Curly's sentiments and concerns to sound more shallow. He is feigning a deeper understanding by reworking Curly's emotions into something bad and needing to be hidden. Everything is laced with envy and resentment, an outburst just around the corner, I mean he even slams the table in the birthday party scene, a tactic in emotional manipulation to set the victim on edge and cloud their ability to respond. Even if Curly knows Jimmy won't get physical in that moment, the physical actions is intended to make him back down in the confrontation in case it does. This is something that is just not person specific. It ingrains itself into how you interact with the world and life and it shows in major and minor ways with Curly.

Post-crash, the abusive nature is more in tandem to the physical victimization Anya went through and the stripping of voice and autonomy we see take place. Like the parasite in HFIM, Jimmy speaks for Curly most of the time and puts words in his mouth, similarly to how he takes Anya's plans as his own. He very commonly, with the both of them mind you, supplements the worst aspects of himself into them; pettiness, selfishness, lack of understanding... And tries to cover himself with their best qualities; kindness, planning, initiative, etc...

These parallel are just to say that positional power has little to do with if a person can be abused and how it can even be flipped to further the abuse. There is no doubt that Curly could've picked up on Jimmy's envy of his position hence another reason he never confronted him as a Captain but as a friend as doing so would immediately put Jimmy in a space to be confrontational/combative.

I think the disdain some people have when they talk about the heavily implied if not implicitly stated emotional/mental abuse Curly experienced being Jimmy's friend is when treating it as an excuse to why he didn't do more. I can understand that completely because it is not an excuse to why he didn't do more but is a very real reason people in his position in these scenarios can experience whether in the context of a work or social environment. However, I also think the way people talk about it really does demonstrate a bigger problem when talking about abuse when somehow who is/was abused is either part of the issue or enabled it.

Harkening back to the sentiments about Curly's inaction regarding Jimmy, I think the exact phrases I used/have seen show how there is an inherent belief that it is easier to overpower the effects of emotional/mental abuse that go in tandem with the perception of Curly as someone who should be able to. There is not an age you suddenly stop being susceptible to abuse nor a set point or low where you realize how it has affected you. You don't suddenly know to stand up or put a face on to face your abuser nor admit that you inadvertently enabled them to subjugate someone else to the same treatment. Maybe it's my psych brain but their is this growing belief that direct action is somehow easy or always the best method with the game shows you instances where it is not always the case. In real life that rings true too. He should have done more, but it's not impossible to see why he struggled to find a way or didn't even if it makes us mad.

It's not easy to suddenly gain a "back-bone". You don't immediately want to resort to aggression, especially if it mirrors the type you were a victim to. You don't want to believe you allowed yourself to be treated this bad, let it get that bad or allowed something bad to happen to someone else. It is easy to be in denial, to retreat to your thoughts or make excuses to avoid the painful truth. It's frustrating but in a way we know is relatable. It why we both hate and love Curly for it. We know we'd be better, we think we'd be better, we like to think we wouldn't falter in the same ways but it's always easier to say that from the outside looking in. It's easy to see what he was doing wrong because we are seeing it, not him, but the game really does make you picture what you would do if this was your raw reality and it's why this debate about Curly seems so never ending/contradictory. We can all say what we'd do but bottom line is that's much different when you're in the moment with all the emotions and human feelings attached.

I personally think Mouthwashing tackles the themes of rape culture, enabling, toxic masculinity, types of abuse and patriarchy in ways that are meant to deconstruct the typical straightforward views we mostly have of these concepts and how little subtilities of them are just as, if not more, detrimental than the overt/obvious parts. The game deals with the idea of little details and bigger picture in a way to show that sometimes the bigger picture is not the issue but the little details that make it up. It's why I have a personal dislike of depictions of Jimmy as the typical horrible person who would of course do something like this because the game is about noticing the little warning signs, the foreshadowing and foresight.

It's why I dislike the typical discussion of "bro code" and "boys will be boys" for the game because the game makes a point to avoid the standard depictions of such. It is about the type of men who still enable despite not condoning, agreeing or even perpetuating harmful beliefs because they can't see the little details or the ways it seeps into their everyday. The severity is not obvious to them as it was not obvious to Curly, Swansea or even Daisuke the way it was to a woman like Anya. There are little details about Jimmy that should ring alarms but if you are too naive like Daisuke, too distant like Swansea or too conditioned like Curly, they are just off markers.

There is 100% more constructive/concise ways to say "Curly was a victim of Jimmy's abuse on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario" while also critiquing on the side of "Curly still had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain that he failed to do due to biases and stigma's he failed to surpass" without the weird condemnation people give him about should've knowing better than to let himself be manipulated by a person he considered a close, if not family/best-friend and had his own reasons to trust initially. Also stop being weird about victims of abuse in general with this fandom, like sorry not everyone has a like social epiphany the moment someone's nasty to them. People are treating it like you immediately know when you are in a toxic relationship immediately or comprehend when a person is actively dangerous and either it's your fault for not knowing how to leave/cut them off or you deserve it. Like the hypocrisy of people believing how certain fans treat the story reflect their irl views but not their own is crazy.

End statement is: I honestly don't even know man, I've been writing this too long and just like no man on that ship was perfect or really helped Anya when it mattered and I feel like pitting them against each other in discussion on who did the least or most or how it was justified sucks cause in the end Anya always did the most and best thing for herself.

[pokeberry5]

fellas, is it gay to give up a guaranteed future with the girl of your dreams and the collective happiness of most of the people in your life for the sake of one homie?

redraw of THE page from chap. 275:

[heroesriseandfall]

Always funny to me that Dick Grayson put so much effort into disguising himself every single time he entered and left Starfire’s apartment so no one would know he lived there, only for a 13 year old kid to show up at her apartment asking for him by name. And then when Dick isn’t there, Tim just breaks into Dick’s previous apartment he hadn’t lived in for months. At that point why bother with the disguises if a 13 year old is always figuring out everywhere you live.

[tj-crochets]

So my little brother and I are not allowed to be on the same team for family game night when we play games like Taboo, because most of the time we share a brain cell and the rest of the family has decided it's an unfair advantage. Today, I was trying to remember the word hummus but completely blanked, so what I said was: "Cabbage. No, hermitage" And my brother guessed "Brussels sprouts?" "No, it's a brown goo" I said, but my brother heard "it's a round goo" "Hummus!" he said "that explains the green from cabbage" "It was hummus, but hummus isn't green????" "Oh I was thinking of guacamole" So like. Even when he and I are thinking of totally different things we can still come up with the same word lol

[aelswiths]

AELSWITH (ripping my heart out and destroying me 😭😭) IN 1x07

[babehog]

I keep seeing poste about call to stop infighting because "conservatives all see us as the same" and I just. Don't. Think that's true?? I'm too exhausted to properly type a post about this rn but like whatever happened to intersectionality?

Sure a cis gay guy and a trans woman might both be "freaks" to your hypothetical strawman. But what if the cis gay guy is also non-white? Is he suddenly a more "dangerous freak" because of that?

What about a conservative that doesn't really care about gays but has been caught up in the current culture war and decides to enforce stricter bathroom policies at his venue because he is terrified of trans women preying on the poor wombyn.

What if it's not a conservative? What if there was a liberal, or a "leftie" that was sooo chill about queers, has plenty of queer friends. But they get weirdly uncomfortable whenever trans women are around.

Sometimes I feel like people have a really weird idea of what the word "infighting" means. If you actually wanna stop infighting then listen to the genuine grievances of the people who are being mistreated, even within our own community. Listen to them and make an effort to recognize when/if you are part of the problem.

[silly-stings]

"you better not be shrignold doing his makeup in the mirror when i get there"

me:

[unma]

Cats

What's not to love about these lovely creatures? Honestly, growing up I was always a dog person (even despite the fact that I was attacked by one when I was young). But then I realized I wouldn't be able to take care of a dog for, well, a buncha reasons, thought about how it would be to have a cat, and thought, yeah, it would be nice to have one. For so many reasons. The eternally lethargic me could never take care of a dog properly. A cat, though? I probably could.

[wurmwizzard]

I went to a little pottery festival in a small town close to mine this morning, and I obviously understand I'm a visually alt/queer looking person living in the deep south. Yes. I get that. But the whole time I felt like a horrible fart everyone was desperately trying to pretend they didn't smell. I had a lovely conversation with a Spanish lady I bought a mug from, but many of the vendors desperately avoided my eye contact, and a few flat out ignored me. Which is baffling, do you even want my money?? my scary gay money?

[bananasofthorns]

hey guys did you know that. apparently. if you don't buy anything through amazon for 6+ months. your account goes dormant and. apparently. the easiest way to fix this is just to make a new account. and have your old one deleted. apparently.

[rigginsstreet]

why do older family members get mad when you have no relationship with them like sir *i* was the child for the bulk of your time knowing me and you made zero effort to foster any sort of long lasting relationship dont be mad when we're not close now that im an adult

[kittykatninja321]

Ok so the way I see it I don't think Talia would claim Jason as her son like even if the Lost Days #6 Incident (tm) is not a factor being an al Ghul is a family curse in and of itself and she cares about him enough to not drag him into that. Like I know Talia's characterization got massacred for Damien angst reasons but as of right now in either version of canon one can assume that her relationship with Jason is significantly less volatile than her relationship with her actual son. We never see them meet post-Red-Hoodification but even if they never spoke to each other again they left off on decent terms which is leagues above the whole cloning and disowning situation she has with Damien. A situation that arose because of League heir and family legacy reasons. I think Jason decidedly being Not Her Son means that they dodged several al Ghul family curse bullets