#v;; better living through science

[mickyschumacher]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐎 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a long awaited summer break, you were expecting to have a good sleep in with carlos, but his plans for you are slightly different. or in which you convince carlos' to turn his morning cardio into something a little more fun.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), few untranslated spanish words, p in v, teasing, oral sex, kinda fluffy, poor humour, breastplay, dryhumping (bc i am nothing without this), fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, i love you's.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: while this wasn't what i initially was working on, i've momentarily gotten some free time amongst the chaos, you deserve some work, and carlos has been looking pretty delectable 🤭 // poorly proof-read sorry ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

You weren't a fan of working out. Never had been and was never going to be.

It wasn't that you didn't see the point of it. You were well versed in the science: it was good for you. It helped your body, soothed you mentally, and overall, kept you in a pretty good mood if you kept the right balance.

Your problem lied within the methods.

Take your dear boyfriend, for example.

Carlos loved working out. You weren't sure whether it was because he was an F1 driver or whether it was just Carlos himself. But he spent almost every living moment off the tracks with some form of physical activity.

You had memorised his routine quite well: a lengthy morning run, training with his personal trainer, his beloved choices of golf or paddle, followed by the occasional swimming or God forbid, another run.

Carlos tried to get you 'hooked' on to it all, claiming it's better to workout with someone as opposed being by yourself. But his efforts were to no avail.

You had important things to do... like catching up on your beauty sleep.

"Mi amor," The rasp of Carlos' voice lingered through the early morning air, cold hands trailing over your back. He pressed his lips at the silent response, watching you not a budge even a centimetre in your sleep.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed his knees onto the edge of your bed, bending down to push your hair behind your ears. "Cariño," He called softly, making you hum in response.

"Carlos," you mumbled with sleep heavy in your voice. "You better not ask–"

"Come on a run with me," Carlos pleaded.

You forced an eye open, wincing at the immediate white light surrounding you. Blinking rapidly, you honed in on the Spaniard who was already dressed for his venture, batting his brown puppy eyes towards you.

"Handsome, you know I love you very much," you cooed, pressing your head further into the warmth of your pillow, "But I'd rather watch Lewis go to Ferrari."

An abrupt slice of cold air trickled past your bare skin and thin clothes. You yelped, covering your body, immediately missing the comforting heat of your duvet. "Carlos!" You scolded, much more awake now.

Carlos gave you a sickly sweet smile. "Say unwarranted things, get unwarranted things," He shrugged nonchalantly before grabbing your ankle to drag you off the mattress.

"No, no, no, no," you groaned, squirming in his grip. Pouting your lips, you quickly reached over to grab Carlos' hand. "Please," you whined.

"My sweet girl," Carlos started, "I just want you to join me. I promise you it'll be good. It's fun morning cardio!"

You grimaced at the chirpy tone he had taken on. 'Fun morning cardio'... how insufferable.

Feeling Carlos loosen his grip, you yanked your ankle back and got on your knees, sinking down on the soft mattress. "Carlos," You murmured, hands travelling up his arms as you leaned in.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, quickly knowing you were up to something with that sweet tone of yours.

"Baby, name the better cardio. A morning run or..." You trailed off, hand travelling down his arm and past his thigh, resting dangerously close to his crotch. "... morning fun?"

Carlos let out a dramatic sigh but he couldn't keep the quirk of his lips at bay. He stretched out his thick arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he fully pulled you over him. A quick nudge to your knees left you straddling him.

"More energy burnt," you murmured in the venture of a fake persuasion even though you already had the answer. Carlos' hand reached out to push your hair behind your ears before landing on the soft pillows of your lips. Nervously you inhaled, "And a whole lot more pleasure."

You stared at Carlos. Taking in those puppy brown eyes, the warmth of his skin, those God-made eyelashes, and each little freckle mixed with the burden of racing on his face. It was the first day of summer break and even though Carlos was pulling you out of bed to work out in the morning, you couldn't help but be a little thankful. You missed him. You had both been so busy lately and it felt like you hadn't seen each other in months.

"What's on your mind, cariño?" Carlos whispered, thumb still trailing the shape of your lips as those very same brown eyes searched yours.

"Nothing. I just missed you. And your stupid morning cardio," You rolled your eyes. "Is that a crime?"

"Then I'm guilty as charged," Carlos confessed, not missing the softening of your eyes as he held you tighter against him. "All I've been thinking about since the race at home is coming back to you."

Carlos' home race in Spain was the last time you had met before long-distance had embedded it's nasty claws into you once again

"Yeah?" You whispered, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. "Anything in particular?"

Carlos took a deep breath in, your signature fragrance engulfing him. Goodness, were you intoxicating. "Well... there was picnics, breakfast, golf, and the beach on the agenda. And... morning fun."

A gasp left your mouth as Carlos fell back first onto the mattress, bringing his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that difference but the need, the love, the softness, and the brutal passion was suddenly pouring into every fibre of your being.

Your hands fell around his neck and hair, nose gliding near his as Carlos continued to ravage your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans escaping your lips. His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your burning skin exactly where the small freckles and bumps he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Carlos' ears as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled kisses down base of your skin.

You gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Carlos' bulge.

"Ah, mierda," Carlos cursed, feeling his cock throb in his shorts. His eyes fluttered shut, hands returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Carlos' clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Carlos," you moaned his name in his ear.

God, what were you two? Sex-crazed teenagers? Dry humping on each other like rabbits in heat.

"Hermosa," Carlos panted, eyebrows strained with the urge to cum yet give you all the pleasure he could. "I need... I need..." he breathed, "I need to be in you, fuck." His entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal while his cock could feeling your thin underwear becoming useless and drenched. It was as thin as his patience was wearing.

You made a poor attempt to nod, releasing a hand from his neck. You briefly lifted your hips, pushing your panties to the side. In doing so, your breath hitches as you feel your sensitive folds glide past your fingers.

"Oh, fuck," Carlos blubbered, losing himself in seeing your bare pussy and your reaction. "Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," He encouraged breathlessly, attempting to shove off his shorts with one hand.

Carlos watched in torture as you pushed your fingers into your warm walls, body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you, "Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves situated near your hand.

"A little faster, baby," Carlos said, "You're already so fucking wet. Pump those fingers... let me see how much you missed me."

You were already moaning in a haze at the praises leaving his lips, pushing your fingers in faster, unable to see how your engorged folds took them in as your eyes focused on the ceiling. But the moment you felt the pad of Carlos' thumb on your clit, you had given up every ounce of respect you had for yourself.

"Oh, shit, oh shit," you cursed, hips bucking up at his action. Your eyes shut tightly. The white light of ecstasy felt close. Your hand sped up faster, your hips went against your fingers and his thump with a more brutal force, feeling his aching cock bounce under you... Christ, you were going to cum. And hard.

The light... so close...

And just like that, it was gone.

You snapped your eyes open, falling to your pussy to see Carlos' hand retreating. "Mierda... no, baby, Carlos, " you cursed without looking at his face. But the moment you did, you understood him.

His hooded eyes told you everything. The throbbing his aching cock was bringing him, his slurred state of mind, and his firm desire to make you cum on his cock.

You kept your eyes on him, savouring the hiss falling from his lips as your took his cock out of his underwear. You gave a small smile, guiding his angry member to your puffy folds. You both released hitched moans when you rubbed your pussy against his cock.

You watched as Carlos purposely lifted his hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your body convulse for a brief second. Fucking hell. That was enough for the both of you. Cumming just by rubbing yourselves on each other was equally as worse as cumming by dry humping each other.

You pressed your lips together, pushing his cock slowly into your pussy. Christ, he was always so big. Thick and pulsing in your hands, stretching your pussy out no matter how many times you made love as if it were the first time.

Carlos groaned, both hands firmly placed on your hips, head falling back onto the bed headboard. God, it had been so long. He missed your touch everyday. But the feeling of his cock in your pussy... he thought about it every second of every day.

You pushed your hips down flat, ensuring Carlos bottomed out. You groaned at the full feeling of his cock in you, eyeing the small bulge in your stomach. "Fuck, you fill me up so well, baby," you praised.

Carlos moaned in response. "Ride me baby. You know I like when you ride me."

You managed a smile, taking off the singlet you had slept in. The self control Carlos had for your breasts was little. Especially, when they bounced in front of him like they were right now. His hands almost immediately shot out, groping the soft mounds with all his might.

Immersed in your tits, his body trembled when you rose your hips and slammed down on his cock, repeating the movement again. "Ah, shit," Carlos cussed, drunk on your pussy.

You ground your hips forward as you rode his cock, stimulating the pure pleasure of grinding on one another. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Carlos' hand reach towards your clit. Your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

Carlos intently watched you, rubbing your clit in soft circles. He could see you slowly fall apart, the fast rhythm of your hips slowing down and becoming sporadic. Your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps.

He continued your work for you, lifting your hips with his one hand on your waist. He grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. "Cum... cum for me," he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

He smiled at the complete lost look that had fallen on your face. Your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. Your climax hit you hard as he denied your previous one not too long ago. Your whine was high pitched and dazed. You were completely lost in pleasure.

Your pleasure only fuelled his own. Your walls were holding his cock like a vice, clamping down on him. You could feel his throbbing cock overstimulating your sensitive pussy.

Carlos groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. He panted, hips racing to chase the urge to cum. "Yes, yes, yes," he mumbled, falling victim to your praises falling from your soft lips and the clench of your pussy.

You both groaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. HIs hips stuttered, faltering against yours as you took every last drop from his cock.

Carlos buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. "Fuck," he mumbled, letting out a small exhale as he moved his head back and looked at you. He laughed softly at your tired look. He placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last. "I love you," he murmured against them.

You smiled gently. "Forever?" you asked.

"Forever," Carlos confirmed, placing a kiss on your forehead. Slowly, he removed his softening cock from your pussy. You both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.

You looked up at Carlos, eyeing the dark look on his face. You sighed. "Morning fun or not, give me at least ten minutes. If not thirty!"

Carlos chuckled, moving out from under you and standing in front of you in an unbecoming state that would make his closest friends laugh at him. He swooped you into his arms making you yelp. "Let's take a shower. I'll clean you."

You raised a brow, hands hung around his neck. "Just cleaning? That doesn't sound like you," you retorted.

Carlos smirked, walking you to the bathroom. "You're right. I'll clean you, fuck you, and clean you again."

Oh…

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[nom-nommmm1]

sorry! I have a suggestion: dead and y/n meet through friends and start liking each other without the other knowing and he offers to watch a horror movie with her one night (because she doesn't want to watch alone) and he's super shy and keeps a distance between them but she asks him to be there so she doesn't get scared. at one particularly scary scene she hides her face in his neck and he freaks out, and they kind of look at each other and finally kiss. then they have sex and he's very shy about it but she helps me feel better and it's amazing for both of them

THE MOVIE - PELLE/DEAD

Masterlist for more + taglist !!

A/n: Hey anon! Thank you for the idea I hope you enjoy! :) For context y/n is not a virgin but Pelle is

Content warning !!: shy!pelle x fem!reader, p in v, unprotected sex, dick riding, hickeys

As the wind flew past the window of the school building she shivered a bit. The science teacher always left the window open no matter the weather. Somehow a kid always managed to spill a chemical in his class that would be too toxic just to breathe in so he ended up just keeping his windows open all the time. “Alright kids, off to lunch” he says. All the kids walk their way to the cafeteria tiredly. It was a Friday and Halloween eve. No one wanted to do work, just make it through the day so they could go home.

I grab my lunch tray and make my way to my usual table to see Pelle Ohlin. We had only exchanged a few words, he was a friend of a friend, but for some reason I thought he secretly didn’t like me. Always staying a good distance away from me, giving me weird looks. You know what I mean. I sit down to see Pelle now talking to Euronymous, my friend and his band member. It goes quiet. Euronymous briefly pats Pelle on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. What were they up to?

I see Pelle glancing at me in my preifereal view and try to ignore it. “H- hey y/n” Pelle says a pinkish tone now coming to his face. “Hi Pelle, what’s up?” I ask turning my body to face him. “O-oh uhm I was wondering what you were doing and all, since it’s like the day before Halloween” he blush deepens and he puts his hands on his face to try and hide it better. “Nothing much, I was going to watch a horror movie with my friends but they dipped and I’m not trying to watch that alone” I chuckle a bit embarrassed. ”Oh I mean I could watch it with you? I have nothing to do either..” he drags on awkwardly.

“You’d do that?” I look back at the ground, then at him. “Uhm- yeah if you want me to” he says his voice muffled by the sleeves of his shirt, he’s now resting on his arms. “Alright, I guess I’ll see you there?” I say getting up to throw my tray away, walking out of the lunch room. “Totally..” he mutters as I’m already gone, his blush now bright red. Euronymous chuckles, hearing the whole conversation, hitting Pelles shoulder playfully.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A knock on my door startles me. I quickly open the door to see Pelle in a little more of a classy outfit then the one he wore to school. “Dude we’re watching a movie, why’re you dressed up?” I laugh pointing at his dress shirt and pants. “Oh uhm…I don’t know, I just thought I should dress up” I chuckle again. “You do you I guess” Pelle looks down at the ground, embarrassed. “Hey I didn’t mean it, I’m messing. Cmon in” I smile welcoming him in. He smiles back and looks around the living room. “Nice place you got” he says in a bit of awe. “Thanks, my parents are stuck at work for the holidays so I get the house as I please” he nods his head in acknowledgment, roaming a bit around the room.

“Hey, you wanna get the movie set up and I’ll get the snacks?” I ask glaring at him. He nods in response, choosing a movie as I am in the kitchen picking out snacks. “You don’t have any allergies do you?!” I shout from the kitchen, trying to shout over the popcorn popping. “Nope! Not any that I know of!” He yells back, chuckling after. The microwave goes off, I take the popcorn out and put it into a nice bowl. I come back with a few snacks and popcorn, grabbing two waters as well. “Can you get the blankets?” Pelle nods again, running over to my fabric closet and pulling out two soft blankets.

He hands me the softer one and takes the other. He sits down, us at a respectably distance from each other, the middle of the couch empty with space. I click start in the movie and get comfortable to watch. As the movie goes on there’s a few jumps here and there. But the tension in my body builds as the scene goes on. The now quiet moment after the woman has lost the killer.

The killer jumps out, the woman screams. I jump, practically jumping on Pelle. Hiding my face in his neck. Pelle pulls me away, looking at me dumbfounded. I blush embarrassedly as he looks at me. “Oh my god I’m so sorry-“ I say but I’m cut off by Pelles lips. My eyes widen in shock. I quickly get comfortable in the kiss, closing my eyes and wrapping my arms around his neck.

After a few minutes I pull away for air. We look at each other panting, beads of sweat start to form on Pelles forehead. “Do you wanna…go all the way?” He asks cautiously. His eyes dilate just from thinking about him being intimate with me. I smile nervously. “If you want to” and that’s all I have to say before he tackles me in a kiss again.

His face flushing pink, he’s belly flips just looking at you..but him doing this to you..how’s he supposed to handle all of this? I smile coming in closer to him, pinning him to the couch. I pull away for a second “you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to” I say to him but he just shakes his head. “No no I wanna make you feel good” he says grabbing my hips, pulling me in closer.

I jump as a scream from the TV goes. Pelle chuckles, rubbing the skin of my exposed hips. “Hey nothing can hurt you babydoll, it’s just you and me here. I will never let anyone or anything hurt you” he whispers pulling me onto his lap. I smile, blushing a bit.

Pelle smiles back and takes me into a kiss. The once innocent kiss starts to get dirty, and eventually turns into us making out. He holds onto me tighter pressing me against him. His tent in his pants pressing up against my stomach. His face goes red. I laugh into his mouth, making him chuckle back loosening his grip, becoming less nervous.

Pelle pulls away, looking up at me straight into my eyes. “Can I..uhm take these off?” he asks referring to clothes. “Why of course” I smirk slowly lifting up my shirt. As my shirt goes up halfway Pelle does the rest takes my shirt off and throws it on the coffee table. He quickly unclips my bra and stops for a moment, taking in my figure. He then latches onto one of my breasts, groping the other one with his hand while the other is still on my hip.

I gasp as his tongue laps around my nipple. I can feel the bruises start to form on me from his hard grip, but I don't care enough to tell him to stop. Pelle sucks on the sensitive bits of my chest, going up and down the surface making me moan out. He creates small markings, not super huge but big enough to be prominent on my skin. Pelle takes his time with me, coating my chest in his saliva.

He pulls away from my chest, a string of spit following his path. He smiles, his lips glistening from his own salvation. “You're so beautiful,” he says before pulling my pants down painfully slow. “Last chance to back out my love,” he says, his brown eyes reaching my soul. “I'm ready,” I say putting my hands on his soft face, my hands gliding over his defined jawline.

Pelle lowers my underwear. His breathing speeds up, so close to the thing he's wanted for years. To think that his dream of being with you was about to materialize is driving him insane. My underwear is now completely off. Pelle groans impatiently taking off his boxers. His member twitches. Pelle places his hands on my hips once again, hovering me over his lap angling me perfectly before pushing in.

Pelle throws his back on the couch as we groan in sync. This wasn't my first time but I've never had anything quite like Pelles, thick and with a good length. What was I thinking before him? He stays like this for a bit, getting used to the feeling. “You feel better than I thought you'd be” he grunts starting to slowly go in and out, making a rhythm that feels good for the both of us. He speeds up, using my waist for support, his hands digging into me.

I moan, the stinging pain of his nails soon turning into pleasure. He mumbles and rambles as he goes in and out of me at a steady pace. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this” he says, blush starting to creep up to his cheeks and ears. I try to respond but I only grunt, being too focused in this moment to talk. People rolls his hips into my pussy making me moan into the nook of his neck.

Pelle is starting to slow down from exhaustion, as it was his first time ever doing something like this, but he wanted to pleasure you. After a bit Pelles legs start to shake tiredly. I put my hands on his chest, pinning him to the couch stopping him from rolling his hips. “Let me help, ok? Just relax sweetheart” Pelle nods relaxing into the couch a bit as I start to move around him. Pelle puts his head in my neck, holding onto my waist again. I start to pick up the pace, grinding on him, our hips crashing into each other as I feel a burning sensation in my abdomen.

Pelle whimpers, starting to pick me up and slowly drop me on his cock. I moan fully taking him in as I slowly fall to his base. Pelle then starts to pick me up and put me down on his cock harder and faster. I soon get used to the rhythm, rocking on his cock at the same pace. “Fuck! Y/n” Pelle says in my neck, giving it a few bites before relentlessly fucking me up and down on his cock. Echos of the movie comes from the TV but I am now too occupied to care.

Pelle and I moan in sync once more, not being able to control the sounds between us any longer. The sound of skin slapping becomes louder and louder by the second as Pelle speeds up. Precum and my slick become the perfect lubricant, letting Pelle slide in and out of me effortlessly. I rock harder on Pelles cock, our hips crashing into one another as we both reach the edge together. Pelles hot cum goes deep inside me, sending shivers down my spine.

As we come down from our own climaxes Pelle slips in and out of me a few more times before completely stopping to catch his breath. “Could we stay like this for the rest of the night?” He asks referring to being inside me. I chuckle. “If you want to I guess” Pelle smiles, kissing my shoulder. “I’m so glad I decided to watch this movie with you” he says admiringly. “Me too” I smile pulling him in for a kiss.

The ending was a little rushed but I hope u dudes liked it !! Thank you again for all the requests, I appreciate them <3

Taglist:

╰┈➤@mxqlss @slavicb-tch3s @bkaulitzz

[oneforthemunny]

ain't no sunshine |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 4

prompt: eddie comes to talk to you about your relationship. 

age gap. everything is consensual. reader is 25/26 and Eddie is 42. if this isn't your thing, then please just don't read.

this one's a little nasty, so minors DNI plz.

contains: age gap, language, fingering, older! eddie, Eddie is a little mean and rough, thigh riding, p in v sex, dilf! eddie, all consensual, little angsty but gets better, aftercare at the end

She'll get over it, he'd said, just needs some time.

That was a week ago. Five days, technically, but long enough to have you heard swirling all day with thoughts- angry, mean, self degrading thoughts.

Madeline hadn't talked to you either, isolating you out of pure spite. It only amplified your guilt even more. You didn't want to hurt her, or fuck up her friendship, or anything. All you wanted was to be with Eddie. It wasn't expected, sure, but he made you happy. So, so happy. 

You'd texted him twice since he'd talked to you on the phone, the following Sunday after. He'd replied once, one short text. You tried to rationalize that he had Brielle right now. He probably was focused on her, she was his daughter and she was pissed. Plus, he wasn't the best texter anyways. Slow responses that he squinted to see- he refused to admit he needed glasses- punching in the letters with his large finger.

Large fingers that belonged in you.

Your legs clamped together, shaking your head as you went back to cutting out the construction paper. You couldn't think about that right now. Not when you had to cut out twenty round 'lion heads' for next weeks science lesson.

Still your mind wandered. You missed the way Eddie would greet you on days like today, leaning against your apartment door or his own front door, grinning. Sometimes he'd still be in his coveralls. It drove you wild.

A sharp knock at the door had your eyes snapping open, looking at the half cut circle in front of you. You set it down, slipping to the front door and looking out the peep hole.

A familiar head of curls and a utility jacket stood there. Your heart raced, trembling hands turning the knob. Opening the door, you looked at Eddie, eyes wide and hopeful. He gave a small smile, not his usual grin.

"Hey, sweetheart." He sounded tired. "Can we talk?"

You felt your heart plummet, sinking deep, deep into your chest. Here it comes. The end.

You didn't trust your voice, swallowing the bubble of tears that threatened to spill out of your chest, moving to the side. He wiped his boots, heavy and steel toed, on your mat, smirking at the little expression it said. The first time he'd saw it, he'd called it 'cute'. Not today.

You watched him stroll slowly towards the living room, hands in his pocket, shoulders tense. You shut the door, following him slowly, carefully.

"Looks like you've been busy." Eddie grinned, looking down at the paper parts you had spread across your coffee table.

You nodded, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. "Yeah. Science lesson next week. Big one. We're talking about mammals."

Eddie gave a small laugh, eyes crinkling and shining towards you. The warmth in the glance soothed you, made your shoulder drop slightly. He sat in your arm chair, teal and velvet.

"I, um," Eddie looked down at his hands, knee bouncing. "Brie's real pissed." He started, looking up at you, eyes saddened. Your heart ached. "She... she's just worried that things with your sister will be different, and they're real good friends, ya know? I know where she's comin' from honestly..." He muttered, looking down at his hands.

You could feel it coming. The tears. Every word he said inched closer to it. The inevitable break off.

Eddie sighed, running a hand down his face. "I really like you, I do. I just..."

"I like you, too." You squeaked.

His face softened as he met your gaze. "I don't wanna stop seeing you." He admitted. "I don't really date. I never wanted Brie to go through meeting someone and getting attached, then being disappointed if they left."

You took a shaky breath in. "Are you breaking up with me?" You spat, eyes narrowed, lip wobbling to hold back tears. Eddie's face dropped.

"If you're gonna do it, just do it. Quit fucking around and just say it." You hissed, angry tears streaming down your face. You turned, wiping them frantically, shielding yourself from his view.

Eddie faltered, standing slowly. "Sweetheart, I..." His breath caught, seeing the shake in your shoulders as you held back a sob. "I don't want to stop seeing you."

You huffed, angry. Angry at him, at yourself, at everything. "Then what do you want?" You snapped. "Why are you here? To break up with me."

"You know, sometimes adults can just talk." Eddie snapped back, jaw clenching. "Maybe you're a little too young to realize that."

You turned, teeth gritting and eyes shining with tears. Possessed, angry, fuming, you smacked your hand on his shoulder, shoving into his chest roughly. "Fuck you!" You screamed. "You started this!"

"You agreed to go out with me. You were the one who kissed me in the parking lot, sweetheart." Eddie snapped, eyes narrowing. You shoved him again, his hand catching your arm lightly before you could. Not harsh, just enough to stop you.

Your chest heaved and his did the same, glaring down at you down the slope of his nose. You hated the way it made you throb, aching and slick between your legs.

Eddie made the first move, his hand dropping your wrist and cupping your jaw, lips on your. Teeth clashing, lips biting and pulling, spits of click and huffs filled the room. He pushed you on the couch, big hands on your wrists, pinning them above your head.

His lips traveled down your neck, stubble leaving a scratchy rash down your décolleté. "I've been thinkin' about you all week, baby." Eddie muttered against the skin of your neck, tongue sliding over the spot that made your back arch off the couch when he sucked it.

He moved his thigh, thick and strong, in between your legs, smirking at the way your ground down onto him through your sweatpants, desperate for any sort of friction. "This is all ya needed, huh?" Eddie smirked, pressing his thigh harder against your core. "That's why you're havin' such a fit, huh? Why you're actin' like such a little baby?"

The word did something to you. Maybe it was the way he said it, teeth baring in just the right way, eyes darkening to look down at you. You mewled, a little whine escaping your lips as you fought against his hand. This was new. Eddie hadn't been this way with you before, and you loved it.

"You're the one who wanted to talk." You snapped, eyes glaring at his but you hadn't stopped circling your hips to press down onto his thigh. "Doesn't seem like we're talking." You snipped.

Eddie growled, low and deep in the back of his throat, but you could feel his growing erection on lower belly. "Shut up." Eddie growled, one hand pinning your hands while the other yanked down your sweats. "You didn't want to talk earlier, so now you don't get to talk at all. Got it?"

Eddie looked down, practically drooling at the sight of your pussy. Glistening, puffy, and so ready for him, all for him. Eddie ran a hand down your folds, a shiver spilling down your spine. He circled your sopping hole, squeezing a finger in to the knuckle, reveling in the way you moaned and arched off the couch.

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing slow circle just the way you liked- the way that had you succumbing to him. Obedient and eager to do anything he said; take anything he gave you. It had only been a few weeks, but he knew so much about you already.

"You want to throw a little fit, huh? Actin' like a real brat. Didn't even try to listen to me." Eddie growled, pulling himself out of his jeans and boxers, adjusting them so they hung on his thighs. He bit back a smirk as you squirmed at the word. "Guess I'll have to put you in your place. Get you all fucked out so you'll actually listen, huh? Want me to show you what happens to brats?"

You nodded, tongue feeling swollen and thick in your mouth. You were so desperate to cum, and the way he was working his fingers on you had you so close anyways. Your toes curled when his finger curled, squishing the spot deep in you that made you cry out.

You were so close, you could feel it. The climb, inching closer and closer while his thumb circled you, not slowing up because he knew better- knew to get you there like this.

Then it stopped.

Eddie pulled out, leaving you breathy and eyes snapping open. Your mouth hung open, giving him an accusing look. He always let you cum first, to get you ready, he'd told you.

Eddie grinned, dimples deep and malicious. "Oh, did you think you'd get to cum?" He asked, mocking and slow. You pouted back, nodding desperately. "Oh, no, no, no, baby. You can't act like that and think you'll get rewarded."

You wanted to cry again, for a different reason this time. Eddie pumped himself, looking at you through thick lashes. "You wanna cum?" He asked. You nodded. He nodded down towards his dick.

"You better make it up to me then." He hummed, tip already leaking. "Show me you can be a good girl instead of a little mean, whiney baby."

***

You had more than made it up to him. Sucking him off until your jaw locked and he spilled down your throat, tattooed hands in your hair. He'd rewarded you by letting you get off on his thigh, first, then his fingers, and ending with plowing you over the arm of the couch, gripping your waist so hard you knew you'd have bruises.

Now, you were laying on the living room floor. Eddie had put a pillow under his back, sure it would be sore tomorrow- he already had such a bad back as it was. You curled into his chest, lids heavy and brain foggy. You were playing with the hair by his temples, where his hair was greying.

Eddie's hand ran up and down your back, soft and slow; an apology or maybe a comfort. After such a rough fuck, you deserved it, to be babied like this. He was happy to give it to you.

Your fingers raked over his chest, over the name and date that was inked there. 'Brielle Jo' in a cursive font, her birthdate underneath it.

Eddie looked down, catching where your eyes were wandering. "She'll be alright." Eddie soothed, hand running down your side. "She just needs some time." There was a pause. "Maybe you should talk to your sister." 

You lifted your eyes, brows furrowed gently. "They're both worried that this will mess with their friendship, so... maybe you should just let them know that it won't." Eddie suggested.

"That's true." You muttered, eyes closing. "Maddy's so mad at me though."

"Yeah? Brielle's not exactly thrilled with me either." He snorted, shaking his head. "She told me I was the worst dad on the planet, and I was ruining her life."

You cringed. "She didn't mean that." You said quickly, running a soothing hand down the hair on his chest.

"I know." Eddie nodded. "It kinda loses it's sting when she's said it a million times." He grinned, a lopsided grin that made your heart skip a beat. "I asked her if she'd talked to Madeline about it, and she said no. That they weren't really talking."

You felt your heart drop. Eddie ran a hand down your jaw, cupping it. "Maybe you should talk to her. Get them to talk to each other. I think they're both scared that the other is mad."

You nodded. "I will." You sighed, breathing out slowly through your nose.

Eddie smirked, lips pressing together as you cuddled closer to him. "Can't believe you thought I wanted to break up with you." He scoffed. "Can't get rid of me that easily, sweetheart. Not after that, for sure."

[caspercryptid]

Dungeon Meshi as Monster Culture

-jeffrey jerome cohen as a framework for dungeon meshi

i. The Monsters Body is a cultural body

Vampires, burial, death: inter the corpse where the road forks...it will haunt that place that leads to many other places, that point of indecision...The monster is born only at this metaphoric crossroads, as an embodiment of a certain cultural moment—of a time, a feeling, and a place

ii. The Monster Always Escapes

We see the damage that the monster wreaks, the material remains...but the monster itself turns immaterial and vanishes, to reappear someplace else.

No monster tastes of death but once... Each time the grave opens and the unquiet slumberer strides forth("come from the dead, / Come back to tell you all"), the message proclaimed is transformed by the air that gives its speaker new life...monstrous interpretation is as much process as epiphany, a work that must content itself with fragments (footprints, bones, talismans, teeth, shadows, obscured glimpses—signifiers of monstrous passing that stand in for the monstrous body itself).

iii. The Monster Is the Harbinger of Category Crisis

The monster always escapes because it refuses easy categorization...they are disturbing hybrids whose externally incoherent bodies resist attempts to include them in any systematic structuration. And so the monster is dangerous, a form suspended between forms that threatens to smash distinctions.

The too-precise laws of nature as set forth by science are gleefully violated in the freakish compilation of the monster's body.

Full of rebuke to traditional methods of organizing knowledge and human experience, the geography of the monster is an imperiling expanse, and therefore always a contested cultural space

iv. The Monster dwells at the gate of difference

The monster is difference made flesh, come to dwell among us... the monster is an incorporation of the Outside, the Beyond—of all those loci that are rhetorically placed as distant and distinct but originate Within.

Representing an anterior culture as monstrous justifies its displacement or extermination by rendering the act heroic..A political figure suddenly out of favor is transformed like an unwilling participant in a science experiment by the appointed historians of the replacement regime: "monstrous history" is rife with sudden, Ovidian metamorphose

History itself becomes a monster: defeaturing, self-deconstructive, always in danger of exposing the sutures that bind its disparate elements into a single, unnatural body.

V: The Monster polices the borders of the possible

From its position at the limits of knowing, the monster stands as a warning against exploration of its uncertain demesnes...curiosity is more often punished than rewarded, that one is better off safely contained within one's own domestic sphere than abroad, away from the watchful eyes of the state

To step outside this official geography is to risk attack by some monstrous border patrol or (worse) to become monstrous oneself.

The horribly fascinating loss of Lycaon's humanity merely reifies his previous moral state; the king's body is rendered all transparence, instantly and insistently readable. The power of the narrative prohibition peaks in the lingering description of the monstrously composite Lycaon, at that median where he is both man and beast, dual natures in a helpless tumult of assertion. The fable concludes when Lycaon can no longer speak, only signify.

Whereas monsters born of political expedience and self-justifying nationalism function as living invitations to action, usually military (invasions, usurpations, colonizations), the monster of prohibition polices the borders of the possible, interdicting through its grotesque body some behaviors and actions, envaluing others.

victims are devoured, engulfed, made to vanish from the public gaze: cannibalism as incorporation into the wrong cultural body.

vi: Fear of the monster is really a kind of desire

The monster is continually linked to forbidden practices, in order to normalize and to enforce. The monster also attracts. The same creatures who terrify and interdict can evoke potent escapist fantasies; the linking of monstrosity with the forbidden makes the monster all the more appealing as a temporary egress from constraint

Escapist delight gives way to horror only when the monster threatens to overstep these boundaries, to destroy or deconstruct the thin walls of category and culture. When contained by geographic, generic, or epistemic marginalization, the monster can function as an alter ego, as an alluring projection of (an Other) self. The monster awakens one to the pleasures of the body, to the simple and fleeting joys of being frightened, or frightening—to the experience of mortality and corporality

The habitations of the monsters ...are more than dark regions of uncertain danger: they are also realms of happy fantasy, horizons of liberation.

the scapegoated monster is perhaps ritually destroyed in the course of some official narrative, purging the community by eliminating its sins. The monster's eradication functions as an exorcism and, when retold and promulgated, as a catechism

vii: The monster stands at the threshold of becoming

Monsters are our children. They can be pushed to the farthest margins of geography and discourse, hidden away at the edges of the world and in the forbidden recesses of our mind, but they always return.

And when they come back, they bring not just a fuller knowledge of our place in history and the history of knowing our place, but they bear self-knowledge, human knowledge—and a discourse all the more sacred as it arises from the Outside. These monsters ask us how we perceive the world, and how we have misrepresented what we have attempted to place.

They ask us to reevaluate our cultural assumptions about race, gender, sexuality, our perception of difference, our tolerance toward its expression.

They ask us why we have created them

[swampstew]

How aboutttt Fluff 'Simple Touches' with Trafalgar Law? if there's still room for requests

Hello Sto♥ Thank you so much for your patience while I was going through it. I hope this has all the fluff you wanted♥ You requested fluffy, simple touches and I give you [ Sleep ] falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

Oh Captain, My Captain Law

Warnings: None. Fluff and domestic stuffs. Word count: 711

Your shoulder became burdened with the heaviness of Law’s weary head. The two of you had been sitting on the couch in his room, reading. Well, had been reading. Law had been studying texts on gene splicing and you had been reading that book you’d been meaning to read but kept putting off because you never had the time.

It finally had its moment. It’s perfectly unbent spine had been creased while you read the first 10 chapters when Law had fallen asleep. With a quiet sigh, you folded the corner of the page and set the book aside.

Leaning back more comfortably, Law’s hat became displaced and you took it off. Your fingers brushed against his silky, black locks when you moved the puffy white hat, and you couldn’t help but touch them again, carefully running your fingers and weaving them between his strands.

Law let out a content sigh and his breathing deepened, and you took it as permission to continue at a slower pace.

If you were honest with yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen Law look so at ease. Or so tired that he promptly passed out. Either way, his face looked free of conflict, free of scowling. The lines on his forehead gone, the tight clenching of his jaw also gone.

Your fingers ran down his face, grazing against the unshaven stubble along his jawline. Fingertips gently pressed against his chin as you eyed his lips. Pressed in a thin line like always, you smirked to yourself.

You’ve been with Law a few years now and it seemed like the only time he looked rested was when he was with you, and not just because he got actual sleep. You liked to think to yourself that you brought the chronically introverted man some peace. Always planning, always researching, Law worked surprisingly hard for a Worst Generation pirate that wasn’t busy conquering territories or otherwise naming himself King.

He wouldn’t tell you the whole truth of what he was presently trying to figure out – but that’s expected. Law’s a doctor, a man who respected science and all the steps involved. He wouldn’t reveal anything until he tested his theories and hypothesis and found conclusions. Good or bad results.

His lithe body gently stretched before he leaned into you some more. You turned your body towards his so he could settle into you at an incline that was better for his neck and spine alignment. Tucking his head where your shoulder and neck met, his hair lightly tickled you as he settled comfortably in your embrace.

Your chin sat on his head as you ruminated in the memories of your time together. The day you joined his crew, the length of time it took for him to open up to you, the day you confessed your feelings towards each other. So deep in your nostalgia you didn’t realize your arm moved to rest across his tattooed chest, fingers partially under the v-cut of his cotton t-shirt, hugging the man to your body.

You didn’t notice the sly smile on his face either. And you wouldn’t for another 8 minutes as you replayed memories, daydreamed of new ones, all the while stroking his scalp and tightening your hold on him almost reflexively from time to time.

Law didn’t say anything, not wanting to break the spell of tranquility the two of you were in. He was perfectly aware of how absent he’d been recently, and he wasn’t one to state the obvious so instead he chose to give in to his deepest desire. To rest with you. To be at ease, not interrupted, to live in a state of blissful quiet.

Damn the near inaudible groan he let out when your fingers slowly grazed his scalp in a delightful way.

“How long have you been up?” you asked him.

He scrunched his eyes, half hoping he could pretend but he was never that good an actor, “Never went to sleep actually. I just wanted to rest my eyes.”

“And your head, and your back, and your body,” you quip, hugging him.

“Well who am I to say no to such patient and loving arms.”

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could have said so.”

“Tch, pirates don’t cuddle.”

[jbuffyangel]

No Choice to Make: Arrow 2x07 Review (State v. Queen)

Is there anything better than Oliver saving Felicity? The correct answer is no.  Of course, my feminist side is screaming Felicity can take care of herself (and does in most circumstances), but my inner Gloria Steinem needs to zip it.  I want romance novel heroism and “State v. Queen” delivers on a swoon worthy level.

Let’s dig in…

Olicity

This is easily my favorite Oliver protecting Felicity moment because there are so many nuances in their two primary scenes. However, to understand those nuances we have to review a little background information.

The Count escaped from Iron Heights during the earthquake (and released the Dollmaker while he was at it). I love this explanation for returning villains because it makes total sense. Logic in Arrow is rare jewel – treasure the moment.

Moira's trial is under way, but Diggle is not feeling well. Oliver sends John home, but he collapses in the bunker.

Oliver: I heard you passed out.

Diggle: I told Felicity not to call you.

Felicity: Yeah, but before that you said ‘gaw’ and ‘thud’ so I didn’t take it very seriously.

Felicity has John's blood tested and there are trace amounts of Vertigo in his system. They try Oliver’s antidote, but it doesn’t work. Adam Donner, the lawyer prosecuting Moira, also collapses in court due to Vertigo poisoning. The Count kidnaps him and forces him to take the drug to alleviate the withdrawal symptoms. It’s broadcasted live, so everyone affected knows the only cure is Vertigo.

I feel I would make a pretty good drug lord after watching Breaking Bad, Power and Queen of the South. The key to success is return customers, so this is not a half bad plan. You have to admire the Count’s industriousness. Ghost and Walter White would definitely approve.

Oliver hoods up after Felicity tracks Adam Donner’s location through the city seal of the Starling Municipal Records Department, which is reflected in Donner’s eye. Ok, so science is not sciencing in this episode. Felicity is immediately concerned about Oliver.

Felicity: I know what you're thinking.

Oliver: No you don't. I made a choice not put an arrow in this guy and it was the right choice. There’s no more killing.

Felicity was concerned Oliver would regret allowing The Count to live, but it’s just the opposite. He’s doubling down on his vow to Tommy. Oliver is not a conflicted man. He knows he made the right call. That's called growth, my friends.

Felicity’s little assertive nod means she backs Oliver’s decision one hundred percent. In fact, I’m sure she had a whole speech prepared for why not killing The Count was the right thing to do. It’s not just Oliver who believes there is a better way – Felicity and Diggle believe it too. This is as much their mission as it is Oliver’s. They also made a vow to Tommy to do better.

Unfortunately, The Count has caught wind that The Arrow’s aim is not lethal these days. The Count holds his arms wide open – an easy shot – and taunts Oliver to kill him, while Donner is held hostage by a henchman. It’s always a bit of a pickle to determine how Oliver is going to get himself out of these situations without killing. I’m all in favor of the vow he made, but killing does have some practical applications.

Of course, Oliver always finds another way. He fires on some flammable canisters, which creates a fire in a drug factory – clearly against OSHA regulations. Oliver spins and throws a flechette into the henchman’s arm, so he drops Donner and they make their escape.

THIS SCENE IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT. REMEMBER WHAT OLIVER DID.

Felicity and Diggle determine the common denominator between all those poisoned with Vertigo is a flu vaccine, but they need to be sure. Oliver is busy with his mother’s trial at the courthouse and Diggle can barely walk. Felicity decides recon is on her tonight and seeks out the vaccine distribution van.  Low and behold, there is an entire shelf of Vertigo in the van, but The Count catches Felicity as she snoops.

Oliver and Thea are waiting for their mother’s verdict, which could be coming at any moment, when he receives a call from Felicity. But it’s not Felicity. It’s The Count.

The Count: Oliver? Is it okay if I call you Oliver? Surprised to hear from me, right? Not as surprised as I was. You see, I find this… not unattractive blonde getting all up in my business. And what does she have on her?

Source:  laurelscanary 

Oliver can hear Felicity crying on the other line and closes his eyes in absolute horror when he realizes she’s being held hostage.

The Count: A Queen Consolidated ID badge. Now, I think to myself, why does that name ring a bell? Oliver Queen. He tried to buy off me last year just before the hood put me in a padded cell. Ipso facto, ARROW.

Source:  laurelscanary 

Oliver doesn’t bother to contain his rage and without a second thought leaves the courthouse. Thea calls after him, reminding him that the jury will have a verdict anytime. All Oliver can tell her is that something came up at the office, but he cannot hide shakiness in his voice.  Oliver is afraid.

Oliver arrives at Queen Consolidated, suit on but hood down. For practical purposes, he doesn’t need to conceal his identity from The Count because he already figured it out – something so many other characters have failed to do with much more information than he had.

But from a symbolical perspective, the hood down is crucially important. Oliver is not here as The Arrow. He is here as Oliver Queen. This is personal to him. So much of this series is about Oliver struggling to reconcile his two halves – the hood and the man, but Felicity is one of the few people who truly knows both sides. He doesn’t have to hide with her.

Oliver approaches very slowly. He recognizes The Count has the upper hand and he cannot afford any mistakes. Felicity is zip tied to a chair and The Count holds a gun on her while he strokes her ponytail. That action alone sends the creep factor sky high.

Source: @yet-i-remain-quiet

There is a sexual element to Felicity’s kidnapping. The Count referenced her attractiveness on the phone with Oliver. Now he’s stroking her ponytail. Oliver asks The Count what he wants and he responds, “World peace and personal satisfaction. Though not necessarily in that order.” He massages Felicity’s shoulders at “personal satisfaction” in the grossest way possible.

Source: @yet-i-remain-quiet

It’s a thinly veiled threat of sexual assault, which does not go unnoticed by Oliver.  There are few things worse than rape and it serves to amplify Felicity’s terror and Oliver’s powerlessness and rage. If the writers intended to keep Oliver and Felicity strictly platonic they would not introduce this terribly disturbing aspect into the scene.

The Count monologues for a bit longer and tells Oliver someone else hates him almost as much. This mysterious benefactor funded the Vertigo operation, so The Count could draw The Arrow out and kill him. (Spoiler alert: it was Blood).

The Count gets the drop on Oliver and fires off a couple rounds. It forces Oliver to run and dive behind a couch. It always surprised me The Count was able to get the upper hand in this moment, which points to Oliver’s fear for Felicity more than anything. He’s not thinking strategically when it’s her life in danger. He can’t.

The Count cuts the zip ties and grabs Felicity by the ponytail. He drags her to the spot where Oliver was hiding, ready to finish him off, but this time Oliver gets the drop on him. He points an arrow squarely at The Count’s chest, but he is using Felicity as a shield. The Count holds two syringes of Vertigo (a lethal dose) to Felicity’s neck. It’s important to remember Oliver’s antidote for Vertigo did not work on Diggle.

Source: @yet-i-remain-quiet

Don’t ever say to me Felicity Smoak is not a hero. She was willing to die to keep Oliver’s vow to Tommy. Felicity was ready to trade her life for Oliver’s soul. She believes in Oliver, and their mission, that much. What's madness is thinking Oliver would put the vow before her life.

The Count orders Oliver to lower his bow, which he does and tosses the arrow to the floor. Then we see him do something Oliver never does – he tries to negotiate.

Again, Oliver doesn’t bother to hide the fear in his voice which makes the negotiating sound a lot like begging.

The Count: Consider this your penalty for making me go to plan B in the first place.

The Count raises the syringes to Felicity’s neck and Oliver manages to pull not one, but three arrows in rapid succession - killing The Count. 

The look on Oliver’s face when he fires the arrows, tell me two things.  First, this kill is emotional. When Oliver shoots to kill he typically only needs one arrow. The Arrow never misses. Three arrows is excessive.  It is literally overkill which means one thing – pure rage.  

Second, the act is instinctual.  The rapid succession in which he fires the arrows shows there is something programmed deep in Oliver’s bones to protect Felicity. Her life was threatened and his body simply reacted.

Felicity drops to the floor and The Count crashes through the window. Oliver closes his eyes and exhales like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. I think it is part relief and part regret. He doesn’t regret killing that bastard, but regrets he couldn’t find another way this time.   

Or was there? Upon this rewatch I noticed a couple things. First, Laurel was held hostage by the Dollmaker and Oliver did not kill him. (Sara did the honors that time). But consider the scene with Donner. Oliver threw a flechette into the henchman’s hand to free Donner. The henchman let go of Donner as a reflex to the pain. Could Oliver attempt the same with Felicity? Would a flechette in The Count’s arm free her as well?

The point is we’ll never know. Oliver made a calculated risk at the municipal when he fired on the flammable liquid and injured, but didn’t kill, The Count’s henchman. Oliver was willing to take the risk when Donner and Laurel were involved, but not Felicity.

I’ve been watching a lot of Bridgerton, so the next scene screams romance novel to me.

Source: AARONSWARNER

Oliver makes his way to Felicity who remains crouched on the floor and crying.  He gets down on one knee and tenderly touches her shoulder.

Source: AARONSWARNER

Felicity immediately flinches in fear at his touch, so Oliver in a voice so soft it’s almost a whisper, gently reassures her. She finally looks up and sees Oliver staring back at her with concern and love. She exhales with relief.

Source: AARONSWARNER

The shock wears off quickly once she hears Oliver’s voice and feels his hand on her shoulder. Oliver’s first thought is for Felicity, but her first thought is for him. SHIP COUPLES WHO WORRY ABOUT EACH OTHER FOR CLEAR SKIN.

Source: AARONSWARNER

Oliver moves his uninjured arm from Felicity’s shoulder and cups her face. The man has an actual bullet in his shoulder, but can feel no pain because Felicity Smoak is alive and safe. She is all that matters to him.

Source: AARONSWARNER

These physical moments are no small thing. Oliver keeps an extremely rigged line with Felicity that he rarely crosses. Shoulder touches are the maximum physical contact he allows and even those are on rare occasion. But she almost died tonight, so Oliver allows himself to take it one step further and touches Felicity’s face.  Oliver’s whispered reassurances in his reserved-for-Felicity-only voice unveil the real intimacy between them. He comforts her. Not in the way Oliver would like, but in the way he can allow. The line is still there, but it’s blurred at the moment.

There is no moment which better encapsulates the two sides of Oliver Queen than this scene. One moment he is a rage filled killer and the next he is a soft spoken, loving and tender man. It is not an accident the two sides merge into one for her. Darkness and light working in perfect cohesion to be the hero Felicity Smoak needed.

Source: @laurelscanary

Oliver makes his way back to the courthouse. He is so visibly shaken that Thea asks Oliver if he’s okay. She touches his injured shoulder and Oliver flinches, but it’s not the bullet that’s bothering him. He came too close to losing Felicity. Way too close.

Source: @laurelscanary

Sadly, this somewhat reinforces what Oliver said to Felicity in 2x06. There is a direct correlation between proximity to Oliver and danger, so he thinks it’s better to remain emotionally unattached. In his mind, keeping Felicity at arm’s length means keeping her safe.

But there’s what Oliver says and what he feels. He can refuse to acknowledge or act upon his feelings for Felicity, but that does not eradicate them. If Oliver is truly worried about proximity then why does he allow Felicity to be part of the team? Two reasons, Oliver needs Felicity and firmly believes they can protect her. But this was a frightening close call and Oliver’s fear is stemming from a more than friendly place. Felicity Smoak has become too important to him and it is scaring the crap out of him.

Source: FERRISBUELLER

Oliver returns to the bunker after his mother’s verdict to check on Diggle and Felicity. The way he looks Felicity up and down y’all is… a lot. Queen Consolidated is formulating a non addictive antidote for the people with Vertigo poisoning. Moira is not guilty. All’s well that ends well, so Oliver tells Diggle and Felicity to go home and rest.

But Felicity needs to get something off her chest.

Felicity: Oliver, I uh…

The way this man spins at the sound of her voice like he's a golden retriever who saw a squirrel. He is so gone for this woman.

Felicity: I just wanted to say thank you.

Oliver: (nods) Yeah.

Source: laurelscanary

He truly cannot fathom what she is apologizing for and steps much closer than necessary.

Source: laurelscanary

It seems Felicity has inherited a little bit of Oliver’s guilt complex. YOU WERE KIDNAPPED MY PRECIOUS CUPCAKE!!!

Source: laurelscanary

HE. TAKES. HER. HAND. We had a shoulder touch, tender face caressing and now holding hands. At this point, this equivalent to first base for these two. MY BRAIN SHORT CIRCUITED.

Source: laurelscanary

Earlier in the episode, Oliver and Felicity discussed not killing The Count previously and how it was the right decision. Oliver’s certainty in the rightness of the decision solidifies his commitment to his vow to Tommy. It is not something Oliver is questioning or wavering on. 

But Oliver is not qualifying what happened to Felicity in those terms. This is not about right or wrong. In fact, it wasn’t a decision at all. Oliver was not calculating the risks. Oliver was not thinking about a vow, or honoring his best friend, or the mission. His only thought was Felicity and her safety. Oliver simply reacted. All he could see was Felicity. All he could feel was the unbridled rage that came from anyone threatening her life.  It is programmed deep into Oliver’s bones to protect Felicity. There is no rational thought when it comes to her.

Nor does he care if it was right or wrong now. Oliver is not Monday morning quarterbacking the situation. Someone raised a hand to her, so that person is dead. End of discussion.

There is a war happening between Oliver’s mind and his heart. Oliver was clearly thinking with his head when he told Felicity in 2x06 that he will not allow himself to love her. But this episode was a completely different story. Sometimes life and death circumstances bring a much needed moment of clarity. Oliver may believe he has a choice whether or not he loves Felicity, but his actions show his heart knows different. There is no choice to make.

Moira Queen

The trial is not going well, so Moira is forced to testify. Laurel is lead prosecutor now that Donner is infected with Vertigo.  "Conflict of Interest" is flashing in a neon sign. On any planet in the solar system, Laurel would recuse herself. THE INSANITY GIVES ME A MIGRAINE.

Laurel also decides she’d like to get disbarred and visits Moira in prison because they are “family." Yack. Give me a break. She doesn’t want Moira to take the stand because Laurel will have to prosecute her to the best of her ability and use their smoking gun. Sure, because now she cares about legal procedure.

So, Moira comes clean to Oliver and Thea and tells them she had a one night stand with Malcolm Merlyn while married to their father.  The kids are shocked to say the least. Oliver has a solid case of the yicks. Thea is more than a little angry since she accused her mother of having an affair with Merlyn last year. Moira assures Thea it was not an affair, so technically she didn’t lie. Moira should teach Professional Gaslighting 101.

Inexplicably, Moira is found not guilty. (In my notes: Hahaha suck it Laurel)

Even Oliver is wondering what the fuck just happened. Upon release from prison, Moira is driven to a secret location to meet up with none other than MALCOLM MERLYN. His explanation for being alive is basically, “I’m a super awesome actor and faked it.” Oliver – did you check his pulse? What happened to the body? Did we miss a step Team Arrow? CLEARLY WE DID.

Merlyn bought the jury and Moira’s freedom (Ummm thanks I guess?) so he can deliver the second bomb. He ran a DNA test and knows he’s Thea’s father. PLOT TWIST! Honestly, this makes a lot of sense. I wasn't that surprised. Thea looks more like Tommy than she does Oliver.

Wait, this means Thea kissed her brother. Are we just going to Star Wars this and never talk about it again? Works for me.

Stray Thoughts

Oh shut up Laurel. Quit your bitching - me every time she opens her mouth lately.

Ivo is looking for the hosen because it contains coordinates to a sub that sunk in WWII. Whatever is on the sub can save the world. Shado and Oliver hope it can save Slade, so Team Island is going on a submarine field trip!

Slade has burns on half his body and yet he can still move. The man is not human.

"I have this thing about needles, all pointy things, which is ironic given who we work for.” I just love her so much.

David Ramsey is so enormous he doesn’t fit on the table. The mind cannot conceive of all that muscle.

 “Mom secrets are what put you into this situation. Secrets and lies. And now is the time to give truth its day.” Oh the irony, Oliver.

Donner took drugs on live television. Re-election is going to be a real bitch for the DA.

I like the Thea’s boxing moment with Roy. Nice foreshadowing. Girl is going to have a lot of rage to work through.

Laurel did make a good point about Walter and Merlyn. See? I can be positive about her.

OLIVER. STOP. ASKING. LAUREL. IF. SHE. IS. OK. Her whole “how can you possibly forgive me” speech was also nauseating and not believable. I like her better drunk.

“I’m pretty sure they aren’t interested in Buddhism.” Slade is burned over half his body but he jokes.

30-30-175-12 I’m sure that has something to do with the comics but I don’t care.

Some guy named Cyrus survived Blood’s Frankenstein experiment. So that’s not good.

Listen to the Watchover podcast reaction to 2x07!!!

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me!

[silentauthor96]

Random Xiaolin Showdown Headcanons: Video Games Edition

Kimiko is merciless in 1st-person shooter styles. And she's even more merciless at online trash talk. The first time the gang watches her actually play online (at an internet cafe), Raimundo has to cover Omi's ears after a few minutes.

Raimundo and Kimiko 2-v-2 (or any number, really) are basically unbeatable in all fighting and shooting games. Impeccable teamwork combined with individual skills and actual battle tactics (no that's not cheating Clay. It's using your resources wisely 😝). Their favorite is to play Smash Bros online with the weakest & weirdest character combos and still absolutely wash their opponents.

The other kids thought giving Omi Nintendogs was a good idea... until he tried to stay up playing for 36 hours straight because "he didn't want his new virtual pets to miss him too much".

They've also learned the hard way that Omi gets easily attached to his game avatars, so they no longer let him play any games where his character might "die" (no matter how many extra lives they might have).

Raimundo once pranked Omi by telling him beating pong would be one of the highest video game achievements ever mastered, and would only be possible for someone with exceptional discipline and focus. 12 hours of pong later Master Fung scolded him for allowing Omi to waste so much electricity.

Dojo is a big fan of mobile style cooking/restaurant games like Cooking Mama. It's mostly the aesthetics that drew him in, but he also likes the calm vibes and the feeling of being a homemaker while not actually having to, you know, move around and cook for people. He can get kinda stressed in the restaurant games when customer orders start backing up and the character design start getting angry though.

Clay is unbeatable at Tetris. No one understands why he's so good. (Tetris is universal. Tetris is eternal. Tetris is, most importantly, widely available. Clay first discovered it on his family's NES, and it's just what he always goes back to in arcades or on consoles because it's always an option, so really it's just because he's played a lot of Tetris.)

Raimundo went through a big Pokémon phase. (He's still a big Pokémon fan but he tries to keep it low-key) He prefers the main RPG games, and hopes his siblings still haven't found his secret stash of favorite cards that he hid before he left.

Raimundo loves Civilization but that's a game for nerds so no one's allowed to know. It also runs better on a full desktop, so he hasn't actually been able to play since leaving Brazil. He really misses it. (He always goes for a culture or science win but is not afraid of a military win if someone tries to start something 😤). (okay, one time he did create a set up of a bunch of European countries for a culture and military take over. See how they like being colonized 😏)

[diddyrivera]

additional resources to marxist feminism:

living a feminist life by sara ahmed

the rise and decline of patriarchal systems by nancy folbre

this bridge called my back: writings by radical women of color by cherrie moraga and gloria anzaldua

delusions of gender: how our minds, society, and neurosexism create difference by cordelia fine

close to home: a materialist analysis to women's oppression by christine delphy

(pdf) the feminist standpoint: developing the ground for a specifically feminist historical materialism

(medium) on women as a class: materialist feminism and mass struggle by aly e

(sagejournals) capital and class: the unhappy moments of marxism and feminism: towards a more progressive union

(substack) the marxfem pulpit by abigail von maure (earth2abbs on tiktok)

if anything else related to marxist feminism, just let me know :)

additional resources to eco feminism:

gossips, gorgons, and crones: the fates of the earth by jane caputi

parable of the sower by octavia e butler

neither man nor beast: feminism and the defense of animals by carol j. adams

bitch: on the female of species by lucy cooke

fresh banana leaves: healing indigenous landscapes through indigenous science by jessica hernandez

the intersectional environmentalist by leah thomas

right here, right now by natalie isaacs

feminism or death by francoise d'ealibonne

violent inheritance: sexuality, land, and energy in making the north american west by e cram

animal crisis: a new critical theory by alice grary

unsettling: surviving extinction together by elizabeth weinberg

land of women by maria sanchez

sexus animalis: there is nothing unnatural in nature by emmanuelle pouydebat

windswept: walking the paths of trailblazing women by annabel abbs

andrea smith - rape of the land

andy smith - ecofeminism through an anticolonial framework

carolyn marchant - nature as female

charlene spretnak - critical and constructive contributions of ecofeminism

heather eaton - ecological feminist theology

heather Eaton - The Edge of the Seat

janet abromovitz - biodiversity and gender Issues

joni Seager - creating a culture of destruction

karen warren - ecofeminism

karen warren - taking empirical data seriously

karen warren - the power and promise of ecological feminism

l. gruen - dismantling oppression

martha e. gimenez - does ecology need marx?

n. sturgeon - the nature of race

petra kelly - women and power

quinby - ecofeminism and the politics of resistance

rosemary radford ruether - ecofeminism: symbolic and social connections

sherry ortner - is female to male as nature is to culture?

sturgeon - the nature of race

val plumwood - feminism and ecofeminism

winona laduke - a society based on conquest cannot be sustained

if anyone has any other recommendations related to eco feminism, plz let me know :)

additional resources related to trans feminism:

the empire strikes back: a posttransexual manifesto by sandy stone

(chicago journals) trapped in the wrong theory: rethinking trans oppression and resistance by talia mae bettcher

(philpapers.org) trans women and the meaning of woman by talia mae bettcher

the transgender studies reader by susan stryker and stephen whittle

if anyone has other recommendations related to trans feminism, plz let me know :)

additional resources related to anarcha feminism:

the anarchist turn by jacob blumenfeld

we will not cancel us and other dreams of transformative justice by adrienne maree brown

burn it down: feminist manifestos for the revolution by breanne fahs

reinventing anarchy, again by howard ehrlich

anarcho-blackness by marquis bey

a little philosophical lexicon of anarchism from proudhon to deleuze by daniel colson and jesse cohn

joyful militancy by nick montgomery and carla bergman

wayward lives, beautiful experiments by saidiya v. hartman

we won't be here tomorrow and other stories by margaret killjoy

writing revolution by christopher j. castaneda

paradoxes of utopia by juan suriano

twelve fingers by jo soares

for a just and better world by sonia hernandez

if anyone has other recommendations related to anarcha feminism, plz let me know :)

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1115 - Initial Thoughts

And we are back from another break

Another sneaky upload while I was coming home from work by TCB, plus other business has delayed me a bit, but now we can get to it

Secrets are pouring out, Joy Boy the pirate

Tell us more, Vegapunk

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too

Back with the Yamato cover story, packing a lunch with Toko and Hiyori

And we're sticking with Wano since even they have the broadcast

They have the flag up as well, Straw Hat territory

Seems they had a Den Den Mushi in Orochi's possessions

Momo muses about Joy Boy being a pirate, having learned about him from Oden's journal

Tama's still there enjoying food too, seems like she lives in the palace now

Shinobu though hasn't 'matured' to her usual look, still looks younger

G4 Base?

Oh fucking...really? XD Demaro Black doesn't miss a hustle

Fake Kid Pirates mein godt hahahaha give it up lad

I mean why would you want to pose as someone who's worth 3 billion? You know how many would kill for 3 billion?

The navy at Egghead are also listening intently to his broadcast, as Vegapunk goes deeper into Joy Boy's past

He's only able to cover from a few Poneglyphs he's had access to (likely the ones Ohara had) but as we expected, a great war occurred; Joy Boy vs the future World Government

Dude was THIS CLOSE to the 'wait, are we the baddies?' moment

Warcury is not happy, as he still chases Luffy and the giants through fire

Mars is pissed too, using his Conqueror's Haki to destroy as many Den Den Mushi as he can find

Vegapunk continues though; of course the WG were just known as the 'Allied Powers' a coalition of 20 kingdoms against Joy Boy's faction - which in itself is a frightening display of Joy Boy's strength, even the superpowers of today could be taken down by a couple countries united, but 20? It took 20!

Alas, Vegapunk doesn't know why the nations were in conflict, just that it was a clash of ideologies, likely control vs freedom, but he chooses not to judge the morality

Zunesha is pensive, as the broadcast emits through Zou

CARROT! We missed you dearie, she's got a fancy Duke coat but she should be in Egghead with the crew ¬_¬

Still, she marvels at Vegapunk noting how Joy Boy's kingdom was advanced beyond even modern science

Oh lord, it isn't just Demaro Black we're bringing up for joke cameos, I know that laugh, I know that headpiece!

Mother Fucking Foxy XD What is that tache man?

Seems it's just him, Porche and Hamburg sailing on a little boat, bandaged up and getting the rumblies

We go back to Stussy, who is contacted by Edison as Kaku lounges in the bubble still

Edison encourages Stussy to drop the barrier, it's useless since the Gorosei could just break through

Feels like you could've called her before diving through the barrier and nearly killing yourself bud

Saturn's also using haki to destroy the Den Den Mushi

Edison puts his confidence in the Straw Hats though

Nami contacts Jinbe, still carrying Zoro - who takes umbrage with him apologizing, since he was busy dealing with Lucci

Nami notices that the blockade is moving to their escape route, encouraging they hurry in her own way

Back to Stussy, she shows relief that the Straw Hats are likely to escape, but without Vegapunk, she wonders what remains for her, she has no purpose

Something Kaku seems pensive about, perhaps even sympathetic, since he can't suggest to her the zoo

Back to V. Nusjuro and Bonney kicks at the Gorosei as he seems to cut Oimo

Not a good landing for Sanji either

Seems V. Nusjuro's not paying full attention to the fight either, trying to use his Observation Haki to sense where the broadcast snail is

Still, he breaks free and slices at Bonney, only for her to be saved by Franky

The slash cuts the figurehead of the giant's ship, better that than Bonney's head, but now she's tuckered out since Distorted Future takes up stamina

As V. Nusjuro leaves the battle and we pan to Zunesha and the Iron Giant we confirm that the void century ended with Joy Boy's defeat

It's not the biggest revelation since the WG rule the world after all, but it also puts further context into all the regrets with Joy Boy and his comrades we have read about in the past

To limit the amount of life signs on the island, V. Nusjuro takes more drastic action, cutting the entire Labophase in half

This causes the CP agents and the bubbled Seraphim to fall to the Fabriophase below

As the Gorosei let gravity try to take those who swore loyalty to them, Vegapunk makes the latest revelation

Sea travel is perilous around the world, it's common knowledge, but a millenia ago it was not; the ancient world, the civilizations that existed in the void century, it's all underwater - they built on top of the ancient world

Also I gotta point out there's some absolutely stunning visual panels in this chapter

Koushiro and the Revolutionary Army also react to the broadcast, only he, Sabo and Dragon appear pensive

Coco Village!? Gen san how you doing! And Nojiko! Still preferred the short hair but she don't care about no global warming she has tangerines to look after XD

Vegapunk continues; before there were vast continents, which'd explain why so few would go out to sea beforehand, and with all of the evidence underwater it explains how the WG can erase a century of history, but it goes deeper - figuratively and literally

Since the void century, the sea has rose 200 METERS!

That's over 600ft; the size of the United Tower, bigger than the Great pyramid of Giza, and that's all Water Level

Naturally, the listeners - the navy - are floored by this revelation, since a Warship is only 60m, but other soldiers tell them to stop listening

There's at least some sense of loyalty - or preservation of cost - for the marines to try and 'rescue' the CP agents and Seraphim from gravity-induced splatter, a la one of their world leaders

Alas Mock Town must mock, there is one among the crowd who isn't laughing though, another one seems to have ignored gravity

Sakura kingdom - mainly Dalton - reflects on the revelation, with Kureha mulling how things continue to get interesting

Oh hey, Miss Goldenweek! Passing by as the island uses a mountain to compare the height

At Water Seven (given the Galley La jacket) Vegapunk discusses how such a thing can occur, and reveals it to have been man-made

Morgans is livid about all this BIG ASS NEWS, having to be shushed by Vivi

Vegapunk continues to show his work; there were no signs, no studies, no science to confirm a natural build up, and if it was natural it would've been made known as a world-altering event

He hints at the use of the Mother Flame, confirming his suspicions

The Gorosei - except Ju Peter, wormy is not getting a lot of love from Oda atm - look furious as Vegapunk continues to note that the sea level rises were caused by the ancient weapons

Those weapons remain dormant, waiting to be used again

And as we pan over to Imu Vegapunk reveals something both horrifying and sobering at the same time: The War Is Not Over

Every island was once a mountain

But time didn't have the influence it should have, Oda has been getting biblical with this lore drop by giving us the common religious theme of The Deluge. Flood myths exist in many religious stories and mythology (which I will keep separate to not ruffle feathers), most common because of Christianity is the flood in the Book of Genesis, which we've already touched upon in One Piece given Noah's Ark. Since we tread nearer to Elbaf it's worth noting that a flood as a role in Ragnarok also;

"the sun becomes black and the earth sinks into the sea, the stars vanish, steam rises and flames touch the heavens."

Once more this was a chapter where Vegapunk's broadcast takes more priority over the things we're seeing, but there are some stunning panels to enhance the revelations, we see also the Gorosei flaunting their haki showing the level they are while the monster trio remain incapacitated or indisposed. I'm at least proud of Franky coming in for some more rescue clutch action, but with Stussy I'm less convinced now that she'll be killed by Lucci, Kaku's silence is loud and maybe, just maybe, they can all see this as a way out. The CP agents are likely not to survive the fall, the Seraphim will and probably will live to fight the Straw Hats under orders of the Gorosei or York, they will likely be used more since the Pacifista are compromised. As for the revelations, a mix of stuff we assumed being confirmed and stuff that theorists have pondered and been vindicated, it's all underwater, which explains the walls in Wano, why Zou is on Zunesha's back (sidebar, how fucking long are Zunesha's legs? like it's gotta be 200m+ submerged alone), and why Water Seven's ruins run so deep.

Still, I enjoyed all the cameos, appreciated seeing Carrot again, and a Vivi cameo is always nice, plus I had to laugh with Demaro Black and Foxy, like who's next? Kuro? Morgan? Krieg? Arlong? Enel?? We have to get to Buggy and the Cross Guild at one point ofc, plus this could be an avenue to reveal the status of Perona, Moria, Weevil, etc.

but outside of that, little progress from the Straw Hats and the incident unfolding in Egghead right now, but given the revelations Vegapunk is giving the Straw Hats time, the Gorosei aren't focusing on them, they're looking for the broadcast snail - and I don't think it's even on the island.

[madohomo]

its my golden bday babyy i am 29 on the 29th today

life updates under the cut!!

i feel like my lifes been going 1000mph for a while now but some notable moments

- i got my masters degree and it was the hardest thing ive ever done honestly i didn't think i was gonna make it but my degree is in applied biosciences!! im v passionate abt a lot of science research so im excited to see where that takes me.

- im a homeowner now !! living w my 3 siblings and splitting a mortgage and its honestly so nice. the house so lovely and ive been through so much roommate hell in the past decade so its been nice to have housing security and ppl i can count on. house is kind of a zoo with so many animals though (2 cats, cockatiel, snake, axolotl, fish & coral) but we make it work

- I'm still working in clinical research as a coordinator on the only NIH funded long covid trial and it's been kind of brutal. not just because of the topic and the study itself being all over the fucking place, but they recently fucked me over financially and now I'm pretty much stuck working there until at least early next year.. but it does feel cool to contribute to such important research that is going to affect millions of people! I've been working on covid studies since summer of 2020 on both treatments and vaccines and now long covid. so I'm pretty burnt out but grateful that I've learned so much about how to protect myself and my loved ones because I'm pretty much the only person I know that still hasn't gotten covid yet. please PLEASE continue to mask, most importantly protect your face holes, and care for each other because everything we know so far is so horrific and we still have very little in terms of treatment options. the future is really looking so grim tbh.

- since October of last year I've been pretty involved in local organizing centered around Palestine. since then and especially during the international call for encampments I've really gotten to know a lot of amazing people who inspire me and remind me that a better world really is possible and we can really fucking build it ourselves. I feel like I've spent a really large portion of my twenties grieving my future because of climate catastrophe and endless war. but for the first time I feel safe and hopeful. I really encourage everyone to connect with your local organizations, meet people and get involved because getting connected and organized is really the only solution to every problem we face and if you're like me and feel existential dread on the daily, this is the best solution.

- and speaking of the friends and comrades we met along the way... I just want to talk about how much I love my friends and the people around me because I would have never made it to 29 without you. I love my local sapphic squad That makes that drained social battery go back to being full. and I love love all my out-of-state friends who continue to talk to me and want to be in my life still despite the distance!! I'm literally flying out tomorrow and seeing East Coast friends I started hanging out with during Homestuck days back in 2013 and now 11 years later. we're still planning shit together.

[romanarose]

Life update if anyone cares.

I only post this bc i was posting my depressing shit for months and a lot of people were reaching out in concern <3

cw sever depression, self harm, suicide, csa, SA, all the bad. but also lots of good <3

TLDR: Despite a god-awful semester, i got all a's and b's

Everyone thats been following me the last few months has seem my personal posts about how fucking awful things have been for me.

I've dealt with fact I can no longer deny that what happened to me was CSA, despite being on a milder side of things. That sparked an absolutely spiral. I didnt sleep for months which made things worse. School, I got an F on a midterm and i NEVER get F's on writing assignments.

Work had its complications and i quit and then rescinded that quit two days later. I was so constantly depressed in my dorm my roommate literally told me i needed to go to the basketball game with them bc i was sitting in a depression hovel none stop. I only went to services twice this whole time, one shabbat and once for Rosh Hoshannah.

I burned the ever living fuck out of my fingers, yall remember that one? lol.

In novemeber i had relapsed so severely on self harm i thought i had accidentally killed myself. I should've called 911. I thought I was bleeding out and/or going into shock. I then worked myself up more by going down pages of the internet about medical shook and people dying from it. that did not help my heart rate. I couldn't stand, I couldnt see straight for a while.

I could not afford an ambulance or a hospital stay as i am uninsured and only ork 25 hours a week. not a lot of money.

All this happened and I didn't miss work. This is not a brag, this is me not being able to makegood choices for myself.

Finally, thanksgiving break hit. Thank fucking god. I WANTED to use those 4 days of absolutely nothing to get to my TWO BIG RESEARCH PAPERS I HADNT STRTED YET but alas, I was SICK. I was so sick, in fact, and so hoped up on cough medicine for 3 days i was incomprehensible.

I was so physically ill, i couldnt even think about how mentally ill i was. I slept and slept and slept. And by the time sunday hit, I felt so recharged.

My failed midterm was so bad and so not me my professsor reached out to me. Im close with him (in a v appropriate way lol, hes a bruce springsteen fan too) and i felt comfortable telling him essentially that for a few months there things were severe, and I really should've gone in for a 72 hour hold multiple times and i was not safe. through a few lines of resources, I ended up back in therapy bc my school added a new therapist that is a woman (i stopped going last year bc i didnt like seeing a man)

I like my new therapist.

Anway, in about 2 weeks I wrote 2 12 page research papers, 2 book report papers, 1 science paper did 2 presentations, took 2 finals, wrote 2 more finals with essay questions, and at the end of it all, not only did I not fail any classes...

I GOT ALL A'S AND B'S! Which means my gpa is still high enough to renew my scholarship for my last year

I am so fucking proud of myself for accomplishing all this despite suffering so fucking badly. I havnt felt pain like that in years, just agony.

I had a down turn again over christmas bc my siblings were literally ass, upto and including making fun of me for not ating (i am multiple accounts of sexual trauma from several people, so im scared of dating), making fun of my eating, and my sister slapping me and my older brother hitting me. Was a bad time. But for right now, im in the place im staying for break (all january) im back at my old day care and they love me, and olive garden at this store has been going great

Im hoping next semester to be better, im hopful at least

Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has supported my writing has supported me through these times. It makes me happy that i came her to share my silly little moon knight x reader series, not really intending on writing a whole lot, but next thing i know, i have friends and a lil community. so thank you <3

[scifigeneration]

ChatGPT and the movie ‘Her’ are just the latest example of the ‘sci-fi feedback loop’

by Rizwan Virk, Faculty Associate and PhD Candidate in Human and Social Dimensions of Science and Technology at Arizona State University

In May 2024, OpenAI CEO Sam Altman sparked a firestorm by referencing the 2013 movie “Her” to highlight the novelty of the latest iteration of ChatGPT.

Within days, actor Scarlett Johansson, who played the voice of Samantha, the AI girlfriend of the protagonist in the movie “Her,” accused the company of improperly using her voice after she had spurned their offer to make her the voice of ChatGPT’s new virtual assistant. Johansson ended up suing OpenAI and has been invited to testify before Congress.

This tiff highlights a broader interchange between Hollywood and Silicon Valley that’s called the “sci-fi feedback loop.” The subject of my doctoral research, the sci-fi feedback loop explores how science fiction and technological innovation feed off each other. This dynamic is bidirectional and can sometimes play out over many decades, resulting in an ongoing loop.

Fiction sparks dreams of Moon travel

One of the most famous examples of this loop is Moon travel.

Jules Verne’s 1865 novel “From the Earth to the Moon” and the fiction of H.G. Wells inspired one of the first films to visualize such a journey, 1902’s “A Trip to the Moon.”

The fiction of Verne and Wells also influenced future rocket scientists such as Robert Goddard, Hermann Oberth and Oberth’s better-known protégé, Wernher von Braun. The innovations of these men – including the V-2 rocket built by von Braun during World War II – inspired works of science fiction, such as the 1950 film “Destination Moon,” which included a rocket that looked just like the V-2.

Films like “Destination Moon” would then go on to bolster public support for lavish government spending on the space program.

Creative symbiosis

The sci-fi feedback loop generally follows the same cycle.

First, the technological climate of a given era will shape that period’s science fiction. For example, the personal computing revolution of the 1970s and 1980s directly inspired the works of cyberpunk writers Neal Stephenson and William Gibson.

Then the sci-fi that emerges will go on to inspire real-world technological innovation. In his 1992 classic “Snow Crash,” Stephenson coined the term “metaverse” to describe a 3-D, video game-like world accessed through virtual reality goggles.

Silicon Valley entrepreneurs and innovators have been trying to build a version of this metaverse ever since. The virtual world of the video game Second Life, released in 2003, took a stab at this: Players lived in virtual homes, went to virtual dance clubs and virtual concerts with virtual girlfriends and boyfriends, and were even paid virtual dollars for showing up at virtual jobs.

This technology seeded yet more fiction; in my research, I discovered that sci-fi novelist Ernest Cline had spent a lot of time playing Second Life, and it inspired the metaverse of his bestselling novel “Ready Player One.”

The cycle continued: Employees of Oculus VR – now known as Meta Reality Labs – were given copies of “Ready Player One” to read as they developed the company’s virtual reality headsets. When Facebook changed its name to Meta in 2021, it did so in the hopes of being at the forefront of building the metaverse, though the company’s grand ambitions have tempered somewhat.

Another sci-fi franchise that has its fingerprints all over this loop is “Star Trek,” which first aired in 1966, right in the middle of the space race.

Steve Perlman, the inventor of Apple’s QuickTime media format and player, said he was inspired by an episode of “Star Trek: The Next Generation,” in which Lt. Commander Data, an android, sifts through multiple streams of audio and video files. And Rob Haitani, the designer of the Palm Pilot’s operating system, has said that the bridge on the Enterprise influenced its interface.

In my research, I also discovered that the show’s Holodeck – a room that could simulate any environment – influenced both the name and the development of Microsoft’s HoloLens augmented reality glasses.

From ALICE to ‘Her’

Which brings us back to OpenAI and “Her.”

In the movie, the protagonist, Theodore, played by Joaquin Phoenix, acquires an AI assistant, “Samantha,” voiced by Johansson. He begins to develop feelings for Samantha – so much so that he starts to consider her his girlfriend.

ChatGPT-4o, the latest version of the generative AI software, seems to be able to cultivate a similar relationship between user and machine. Not only can ChatGPT-4o speak to you and “understand” you, but it can also do so sympathetically, as a romantic partner would.

There’s little doubt that the depiction of AI in “Her” influenced OpenAI’s developers. In addition to Altman’s tweet, the company’s promotional videos for ChatGPT-4o feature a chatbot speaking with a job candidate before his interview, propping him up and encouraging him – as, well, an AI girlfriend would. The AI featured in the clips, Ars Technica observed, was “disarmingly lifelike,” and willing “to laugh at your jokes and your dumb hat.”

But you might be surprised to learn that a previous generation of chatbots inspired Spike Jonze, the director and screenwriter of “Her,” to write the screenplay in the first place. Nearly a decade before the film’s release, Jonze had interacted with a version of the ALICE chatbot, which was one of the first chatbots to have a defined personality – in ALICE’s case, that of a young woman.

The ALICE chatbot won the Loebner Prize three times, which was awarded annually until 2019 to the AI software that came closest to passing the Turing Test, long seen as a threshold for determining whether artificial intelligence has become indistinguishable from human intelligence.

The sci-fi feedback loop has no expiration date. AI’s ability to form relationships with humans is a theme that continues to be explored in fiction and real life.

A few years after “Her,” “Blade Runner 2049” featured a virtual girlfriend, Joi, with a holographic body. Well before the latest drama with OpenAI, companies had started developing and pitching virtual girlfriends, a process that will no doubt continue. As science fiction writer and social media critic Cory Doctorow wrote in 2017, “Science fiction does something better than predict the future: It influences it.”

[dreamofhircine]

okay so here is the 2023 books year-in-review, this is going to be v. long because I ended up reading & re-reading a lot of my backlog after rebuilding the bookshelves in our house. This is going to be roughly sorted, and I'll try and say a little bit about each thing.

Hazel Jane Plante

Little Blue Encyclopedia (for Vivian) - I adored this! It's a slimmer book, closer to a novella, but it was maybe my favorite piece this whole year. The central premise of this is that in a haze of grief after the death of her bestie a woman gets way too into their shared fandom and writes a combination of TV show fandom zine, obituary & love letter. The two-part narrative structure is something that Plante would go on to play w/ more in

Any Other City - also a great book! This is written as the memoir of a trans punk rock star split between her journal style letters in the 90s as she navigated an art scene as a woman who doesn't realize it yet, and then picks up again in the 2020s after her own celebrity was cemented.

Casey Plett

Little Fish - Really rad slice of life about a mennonite trans woman in Canada who has a lot of feelings about that. This feels more than anything like a strong expansion upon several of Plett's short stories in A Dream of a Woman.

A Dream of a Woman - I got lost in so many of the stories in this anthology, Plett writes the lives of these women so vividly it feels like you know them. You probably *do* know them.

A Safe Girl to Love - Plett's first anthology, recently re-published. I was not *as big* a fan of this one, but it still holds up very well and is a good example of her style generally.

The Locked Tomb - I am gonna talk about all three of these in one go, actually. These were really sweet, really nice, I really like the approach to necromancy as just sort of another kind of science or physical force, worked through a process very close to magic. I've been seeing art of these characters around for a long time now and it is nice to finally put a personality to the faces. The pool scene in GtNth especially really hit.

Gideon the Ninth

Harrow the Ninth

Nona the Ninth

Peter Watts - This is also gonna get a block review because so many of the things here are interconnected to one another. Starfish to Behemoth are all in The Rifters Trilogy, and Blindsight & Echopraxia are a pair. Watts has a really great way of tearing down the human brain and playing with all the ways that trauma can influence it, how adaptational quirks can be weaponized. Starfish is probably the single best way to get into his work, but if 'vampires in space' sounds more your speed then Blindsight has it covered.

Starfish

Maelstrom

Behemoth

Blindsight

Echopraxia

qntm

There Is No Antimemetics Division - This is a republish of qntm's large body of work on the SCP wiki, sharing the same name. This is really solid, and the use of narrative negative space is interesting.

Valuable Humans in Transit and Other Stories - A slim collection of short stories and an overall much better showing from qntm, no longer tied up w/ SCP stuff. The things that delve into the implication of human mind based AI constructs especially is really strongly written and will leave you thinking for a while after.

The Division - Broken Dawn is the older entry and did not really capture my attention very strongly, it felt phoned in more than anything else. Recruited & Compromised by contrast could stand on their own w/o The Division branding though both are very well integrated into the game, w/ events going back and forth between the two now that the game is getting more narrative content to it.

The Division: Broken Dawn

The Division: Recruited

The Division: Compromised

D&D - You can probably guess why I jumped into these and what game got me to do it. Drizzt is something I avoided for a very long time because of the associations in the fandom and that was probably not unwarranted tbh. I probably won't continue w/ the series after Exile. It is competently written but these things are creaking w/ their own age and just don't have enough going on to stand on their own unfortunately.

Drizzt: Homeland

Drizzt: Exile

The Devil You Know - Another entry in the Brimstone Angels series, which is my favorite of any of the longer running D&D series. Centered around the misadventures of a Tiefling Warlock and how she gets pulled into the big-dick-swinging matches between various devils trying to make their weird little power plays.

40K

Horusian Wars: Incarnation - This was stellar. Great look at the Inquisition and how insular and back-stabby it can be, I hope more comes from this.

Kasrkin - A mostly by the numbers book that was written entirely to promote the 'kasrkin vs necrons' Kill Team box that came out a bit back. Competent but doesn't have anything new or interesting to say.

Pariah - Eh. This wasn't bad, but it wasn't that good either. Abnett has long been one of my favorite authors in general, not even just in 40k specifically, but I don't think it is controversial to say he has fallen off lately. Compared to his earlier stuff w/ the Inquisitors, hell even compared to stuff like that Horusian Wars book and Pariah just doesn't do enough and the whole Bequin sequence right now feels like it is mostly being done to shift things around in the meta-narrative rather than be good books that stand on their own feet.

The Armour of Contempt - I re-read this one recently and it was just as good as when I first picked it up in high school. Abnett is at some of his best here.

General Fiction (Unsorted)

The Archive Undying: The Downworld Sequence Book 1 - Homosexual activities in a sci-fi fantasy world once dominated by city-scale god-king AIs that went critically rampant a long time ago. This is a really great start to what I hope will be an excellent series.

The Darkness That Comes Before - Re-read after initially reading this when it was new and I was like a pre-teen. Definitely not a book a pre-teen should read and maybe some of that explains why I am like this now. Let's not look at that *too* closely, yeah? This still stands on its own after all these years, though I hear the series in general kind of flagged after a while. If you're into nihilist fantasy check it out.

Burning Chrome - Re-read and enjoyed yet again. Classic Gibson, lays the frame upon which the rest of his body of work would be built.

Pattern Recognition - Re-read this and it still holds up. Gibson is at his height here, calling shots that would start to land almost *immediately* after he published it. Reading this may re-orient your fashion sense entirely so be forewarned and have a bit of space in your wardrobe first I guess.

All You Need Is Kill - Another re-read! I got back into this after realizing that a lot of that traumatized mech pilot pornography I was writing drew so much inspiration for this. I still love the story, I still love the framing, I still love the short and brutal way it is written and the translation is very solid.

Wasteland: Stories of the Apocalypse - Yet another re-read. I originally read this in high school and I owe a great amount of creative debt to some of these stories, hugely influential works and I recommend picking this up.

This Shape We’re in - A tiny little novella by the author of Motherless Brooklyn (which is currently sitting in my 'to do' pile). There is no adequate way to describe this that wouldn't sound like a joke, it is Lethem's most unusual and maybe his best for that.

Poetry

In the Shape of a Human Body I Am Visiting the Earth - Mostly translated poetry, this was solidly collected and a great example of Global(tm) Poetry.

One Hundred Apocalypses and other Apocalypses - More microfic really but I liked this. The different ways the world can end, be it physically from bombs or emotionally in a bad text message.

Wound from the Mouth of a Wound - Simply beautiful collection of work by torrin a. greathouse, I *adored* this.

Non-Fiction

Underlands: A Deep Time Journey - This was beautiful, simply put. A deep dive (hehe) into places beneath the earth and the people that spend more time beneath the surface than above it. I especially loved the travelogue in the cordoned off sections of the Paris catacombs, you can really feel the claustrophobia and danger of it all.

Bitch: The Female of the Species - I picked this up solely because it had a picture of a hyena on the cover. I do not regret that, it was great and that is something I seldom stay about pop-academic gender books.

Emergence: Labeled Autistic - Temple Grandin's first autobiography. This has been heavily dated in how she talks about being autistic and she has changed her views on this several times, to the point where depending on the version you pick up there may be several introductions from the author in a sequence reflecting on this. It is rare to see autobiographies from notable autistic women, it is rare for there to *be* notable autistic women, so I am really happy that I read this.

Memento Mori: The Dead Among Us - Mostly a photo book that I picked up while on a trip to MFABoston w/ my girlfriend. This is a great little table book if nothing else.

Infrastructural Brutalism: Art and the Necropolitics of Infrastructure - A somewhat dry but well researched dive into massive infrastructure projects and the death cult attitude that empowers them.

Queering Mennonite Literature - A university press publication, you know the drill w/ these. Good base to start from if you want to get more into the intersection of queer & menno literature, which is why I picked it up after reading a lot of Casey Plett's books.

David Graeber

Bullshit Jobs - Maybe the best that Graeber has been, and also an example of him leaning really hard into the pop-science aspect of his public persona. If you've got an office job that feels completely fake please read this.

The Dawn of Everything - Graeber's last work before his death and... Well I think it is really good, well written, broadly researched, but much like Debt you're going to either agree w/ his premise or not. There are some rather radical takes here. I highly recommend it though.

Debt: The First 5000 Years - There has been a lot of back and forth on this and there will never be a solid answer. I think the arguments made here are fairly strong, pretty convincing, but if you're involved in this academically in any way you're liable to have a lot of strong opinions one way or another as you read it.

LitMags

Clarkesworld: Every sci-fi enjoying homosexual has a Clarkesworld subscription these days so I don't have a lot unique to say about this. Great year for work, I love the regular infusion of translated works as usual, and I hope that the recent business hits they've taken don't impact it too hard. Definitely re-subbing.

Alaska Quarterly Review: There were some good entries to this but for the most part it kind of felt like an 'eating your vegetables' situation. I probably won't renew for the next year, but I don't *regret* picking it up this year either.

McSweeney’s: Solid as ever, though I found the 'halloween' issue they did to be kind of boring overall. Everything else was primarily hits, and I'll be carrying this forward next year.

[seasidesandstarscapes]

Across the Stars - Chapter 1

Next

Summary: War has come. Barely making it off their planet alive, Don and his friends flee into the depths of space. Where they're headed, none of them know. Not until Don senses a presence calling out to him.

In an instant, Don is thrust into memories long put behind him, a gift he was never told about. Between love, death, and the impending unknown, Don's story has only just begun.

Rating (this chapter): T

Genre: Science Fiction, War, Refugees, Soul Bonds, Mind Connections, Falling in Love, Team Bonding, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut

Words: 1452

A/N: another whopper??? anyway shout-out to @strangethings-everywhere for help with the title ;v;

-

AO3

or

For a time, life was good on Bnerai.

The lush forests stretched across the horizon, outlined by ocean shores with their blue sands. Crops were plentiful, wildlife lived in harmony with those who had come to call the planet home. Generations upon generations lived in peace.

Then, others who despised the joy and prosperity of Bnerai came.

Fire swept across the land, floods washed away homes. Those who survived were forced to flee and even then, only death awaited them.

Whether it was by luck or fate, eight men managed to reach the depths of space, huddled in a ship covered in far too much damage. They had never left their planet before but with the enemy on their tail, surely anywhere would be better than the destruction below them.

Whispered prayers to dead gods, murmurs of fading hope were all that was heard in the cabin, while two untrained pilots charted a course to nowhere.

“Reactor is too unstable to make a jump.”

Joe had not been born on Bnerai. A refugee from another star system, he had made his own life on the planet. He had just started to feel comfortable, convinced his luck had finally changed.

“We’re low on fuel anyway,” his copilot, Don, replied in a quiet tone, pressing a button on the console between them and flipping a switch near his controls.

Glancing back at the other men in the ship, Don pursed his lips. Blood was on hands and faces, one or two of them falling into exhaustion while others stared ahead. When his childhood friend, Chuck, met his eyes, Don looked away with a tremble and breathed heavily through his nose.

“We’ve got two tanks,” Joe tapped a nervous finger. “We could try for Jeqioav.”

Don shook his head and hit another switch. “No. Too risky. The Rin-Palad.”

With a sigh, Joe sank in his seat, staring at the vast expanse of stars before them. Don wanted to offer words of comfort but he knew nothing could ease his mind. All he could do was hope to get them all to safety and even that was turning into an impossible dream.

There had been no time to grab anything beyond the clothes on their back. Running for their lives, they had managed to avoid the hailstorm of lasers, but then could only watch helplessly as they took off from the planet. Don went through the names of his companions in his head.

Shorty. Jim. Gordy. Johnny. Roger.

They were the most unfamiliar, the ones he was getting to know a few weeks ago. Just kids with faraway dreams, their biggest worries being what tomorrow would bring.

Don ignored the rumble of the engines as he pushed a lever forward. Numbing pain carved its way into his chest, but his wavering emotions would be of little help now.

“Doesn’t sound good,” Joe muttered as the gauges stuttered.

With harsh blinks, Don focused on his switchboard. He was just getting used to this ship, understanding every little button and light. Surely, he would know what to do if it came down to an emergency. He had to.

“Where are we going?” A voice tugged Don from his running mind.

From the corner of his eye, Don saw Joe glance at him before turning to the back.

“Outpost. Shouldn’t be too far, Roger.”

Don’s grip tightened on the lever and nausea rose to the surface. It was all on him now. He couldn’t let them down, couldn’t let it all fall to pieces. They had gotten this far.

Closing his eyes, Don struggled to find his strength. He thought of Bnerai, his mother’s house surrounded by fields of bright purple and green flowers, his siblings running along pathways that lit with every step. They had to have made it. He would see them again.

Taking a deep breath, Don charted the stars in the navigator and headed into the unknown.

The hours were long and arduous. No one wanted to talk or cared to, leaving the air thick with regret and longing. Surviving was instinct at this point.

With just a tank of fuel remaining, Don switched to a lower speed, checked the radar for any enemy detections. It was quiet, almost too much so and Don’s worries began to rise again.

“Do you know where you’re taking us?” Shorty spoke, cutting into the thick, stale atmosphere.

Don wanted to lie, to keep hope alive in any way. But his pause said enough and the agitation of the other men began to seep into him.

“We’re just trying to stay ahead of the warships,” Joe answered for him.

There was a sigh from Johnny before, “Going deeper into space doesn’t seem that much better.”

Don winced, his hand flexing around one of the controls. Johnny was right. Their fuel was low, rations would run out in time too. They had to go somewhere. Anywhere. Even a hostile planet was better than the coldness of space.

“There’s a planet not too far,” Don cleared his throat.

The others waited. Being put on the spot made Don squirm and Joe’s arched eyebrow did not help. He hadn’t meant to keep it a secret. Not really. It took Don all his effort to not mumble his next words.

“There’s no history of it in the logbooks though.”

“So we take our chances then,” Chuck gave a small shrug.

It was so simple, wasn’t it? Don pursed his lips, let his head fall back against the seat. Chuck could be the pilot then if he knew so much, but Don kept his mouth shut.

“Can’t the ship tell us if there’s lifeforms?” Roger asked.

“She’s…we shouldn’t push our luck,” Joe explained. “We’re lucky the Husky Clipper’s brought us this far.”

Everyone’s voices were too loud. Don shut his eyes, tried to calm down his shallow breaths. He couldn’t falter, not so soon.

As his fears rose, Don burrowed further into his mind. It was safer to pretend, to imagine himself anywhere else but here. He saw desert sands, green towering trees, mountains and sheer cliffs. The air was fresh, wild and he could feel someone standing next to him. It wasn’t Joe. Wasn’t his family. Don wanted to look, but he couldn’t turn his head. All he could do was listen as a voice spoke to him and him alone.

Come to me.

Don snapped his head up. He was in the ship, the stars surrounding him. Joe had disappeared from his seat and Don was left to wade through what had felt like reality. He could hear his companions arguing behind him but it was garbled in his ears.

His head pulsed, heart stuttered in his chest. A storm was clawing his way out of him and Don could not stop it.

“We’ll go,” he spoke, but it faded over the din of arguing.

He stood, held onto the seat for balance as he faced the chaos before him.

“We’re going to the planet,” Don all but shouted and steeled himself as everyone stared at him. With a sharp inhale, Don found his voice.

“Like Chuck said, we’ll take our chances.”

While there were a few agreeing nods, others looked terrified, lost. Sitting back down, Don collected himself, the shifting mood sweeping over him. If only he could take all their fears, bundle them away. Don ran his thumb along the tips of his fingers, imagined he was drawing their sorrows into him. His muscles tensed, his thoughts shattered, and then there was nothing.

Despite a new weight pressing down on his shoulders, Don could breathe at last. Joe had sat back down next to him and the other men found other ways to occupy themselves. The tension had been lifted for now.

“Don't think the guys ever expected you to talk like that,” Joe smirked. “You’re full of surprises.”

Don responded with a smile of his own, a small shake of the head. “Just trying to keep us alive.”

“You’re doing a hell of a job,” Joe encouraged, settling into his seat. “And I got your back. You know that.”

From day one Joe had been Don’s copilot. It had been easy to fall into their growing trust, one word answers turning into deeper conversation. He had seen Joe walking past his house often as teens, but they never talked. Not until the academy.

Don hoped his face showed his gratitude and tapped out the coordinates to the planet. With his initial hesitation dissipated, Don found a need settling in its place. He had to go to this uncharted territory, to find out what it all meant.

Something, someone was beckoning and Don refused to fight the siren call.

[jurassicworldtieindrpepper]

Reading List

to be updated constantly

Articles:

"Why Women Online Can’t Stop Reading Fairy Porn" by C.T. Jones for Rolling Stone

"They Called 911 for Help. Police and Prosecutors Used a New Junk Science to Decide They Were Liars." by Brett Murphy for ProPublica

"‘I Think My Husband Is Trashing My Novel on Goodreads!’" by Emily Gould for The Cut

"Woman in Retrograde" by Isabel Cristo for The Cut

"The unwanted Spanish soccer kiss is textbook male chauvinism. Don’t excuse it" by Moira Donegan for the Guardian

"I Started the Media Men List" by Moira Donegan for The Cut

"What Moira Donegan Did for Young Women Writers" by Jordana Rosenfeld for The Nation

"The Key Detail Missing From the Narrative About O.J. and Race" by Joel Anderson for Slate

"The Coiled Ferocity of Zendaya" by Matt Zoller Seitz for Vulture

"OJ Simpson died the comfortable death in old age that Nicole Brown should have had" by Moira Donegan for The Guardian

"Norm Macdonald Was the Hater O.J. Simpson Could Never Outrun" by Miles Klee for Rolling Stone

"Trans Stylists and Makeup Artists Are Reshaping Red Carpet Looks. Will They Get the Credit They’re Due?" by James Factora

"The ‘perfect Aryan’ child used in Nazi propaganda was actually Jewish" by Terrence McCoy for The Washington Post

"There Are Too Many Books; Or, Publishing Shouldn’t Be All About Quantity" by Maris Kreizman for Literary Hub

"An O.J. Juror on What The People v. O.J. Simpson Got Right and Wrong" by Ashley Reese for Vulture

"Super Cute Please Like" by Nicole Lipman for N + 1 Magazine

Essays:

Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture edited by Roxanne Gay

Creep: Accusations and Confessions by Myriam Gurba

"On Chappell Roan and Gen Z Pop" by Miranda Reinert

"In Memory of Nicole Brown Simpson" by Andrea Dworkin

"My Gender Is Dyke" by Alexandria Juarez for Autostraddle

"Columnists and Their Lives of Quiet Desperation" by Hamilton Nolan

Nonfiction:

Belabored: A Vindication of the Rights of Pregnant Women by Lyz Lenz

The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan

This American Ex-Wife: How I Ended My Marriage and Started My Life by Lyz Lenz

The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination by Sarah Schulman

Savage Appetites: Four True Stories of Women, Crime, and Obsession by Rachel Monroe

The Sexual Politics of Meat: A Feminist-Vegetarian Critical Theory by Carol J. Adams

Eros the Bittersweet by Anne Carson

Who Owns This Sentence? A History of Copyrights and Wrongs by David Bellos & Alexandre Montagu

The Once and Future Sex: Going Medieval on Women's Roles in Society by Eleanor Janega

Moby Dyke: An Obsessive Quest to Track Down the Last Remaining Lesbian Bars in America by Krista Burton

University of Nike: How Corporate Cash Bought American Higher Education by Joshua Hunt

What it Feels Like for a Girl by Paris Lees

Female Masculinity by J. Jack Halberstam

The Theory of Everything Else: A Voyage Into the World of the Weird by Dan Schreiber

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach

Better Living Through Birding: Notes from a Black Man in the Natural World by Christian Cooper

Rivermouth: A Chronicle of Language, Faith, and Migration by Alejandra Oliva

Unlikeable Female Characters: The Women Pop Culture Wants You to Hate by Anna Bogutskaya

Born a Crime: Stories From a South African Childhood by Trevor Noah

Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson

The Lady from the Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick by Mallory O'Meara

Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End by Atul Gawande

Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg

Eyeliner: A Cultural History by Zahra Hankir

Against Technoableism: Rethinking Who Needs Improvement by Ashley Shew

The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder by David Grann

Know My Name by Chanel Miller

Empire of Pain: The Secret History of the Sackler Dynasty by Patrick Radden Keefe

Novelist as a Vocation by Haruki Murakami

Rape-Revenge Films: A Critical Study by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas

Fiction:

To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

Middlemarch by George Eliot

Just as You Are by Camille Kellogg

Just Happy to Be Here by Naomi Kanakia

The Misadventures of an Amateur Naturalist by Ceinwen Langley

Family Meal by Bryan Washington

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler

Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark

My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal by Adriana Herrera

Blackouts by Justin Torres

We Do What We Do in the Dark by Michelle Hart

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

Less Is Lost by Andrew Sean Greer

The Faithless by C.L. Clark

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang

The Disenchantments by Nina LaCour

Everything Leads to You by Nina LaCour

Bliss Montage by Ling Ma

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

The Institute by Stephen King

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke

Frankenstein: Junji Ito Story Collection by Junji Ito

Her Body and Other Parties: Stories by Carmen Maria Machado

Young Mungo by Douglas Stuart

The Dark Forest by Liu Cixin

Snuff by Terry Pratchett

Travelers Along the Way: A Robin Hood Remix by Aminah Mae Safi

Only a Monster by Vanessa Len

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

Fictober Prompt Day Fourteen! Prompt: "If you don't stop now..."

Pairing: Jill Valentine/Carlos Oliveira (Resident Evil)

Read below!

“What about this one? The Fifty-Foot Moon Woman.” 

Carlos snorts out a laugh, scooping rice onto his plate and immediately smothering it with curry sauce. “Seen it.” 

Even without looking at her, Carlos can easily picture the eye roll that Jill gives him, accompanied by a huff. The couch shifts as she leans back against it, drawing her knees up to her chest as she continues to flip through the different movie titles. “Of course you have,” she mutters. “You’ve seen everything.”

“It’s called being a connoisseur,” Carlos says, adding a piece of naan to his plate. “I can show you the ropes.”

Which is something Carlos thinks they’ve been doing a decent job of during their Friday night “date nights,” which include takeout from one of the many places around their apartment and watching as many B-grade horror movies they possibly can before one or both of them falls asleep thanks to the exhaustion of the week. Unfortunately, sometimes having to go off to save the world from those who would like to turn it into some sort of bioweapon wasteland interrupt the routine but for the most part they’ve managed to uphold the tradition for nearly as long as Carlos can remember, the movie nights first starting out as a way to forget about the rest of the world for an hour or two and laugh about the cheap special effects and manufactured danger. Now the hours he knows will be solely dedicated to takeout and time spent with Jill by his side are truly what get him through most weeks. 

Jill ignores his comment, brow furrowing as she continues to scroll through their choices. “Radioactive Muskrats from Mars.” 

Carlos hopes whoever had been in charge of naming these masterpieces fifty years before had gotten a raise. “Seen it.” 

Jill looks at him, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve actually seen…” Then she stops, shaking her head. “Of course. Why would I think any differently,” she grumbles, returning her attention to the TV. 

“How can you see a movie with a title like that and not watch it?” Certainly when he’d been a kid and stumbled upon that movie with his brothers they hadn’t been able to look away, as enraptured by the giant murderous muskrats as they were by every cheesy, terrible black-and-white flick that played in the wee hours of the night. 

After a few beats of silence, Jill suggests, “What about Killer Cat People?” 

Okay, yeah, he’s seen it, but when Carlos responds, he decides to keep that little fact to himself. “Suena bien. Fire it up, Supercop.” 

Satisfied, Jill clicks on the title, leaning forward to grab her own plate of food before settling back once more on the couch. Her shoulder brushes against his, the heat of her body immediately settling over Carlos in a way that eases the tension his muscles seem to always carry, leaving him feeling more relaxed than he has since he’d woken up that morning to the sensation of Jill easing herself out of bed at the sound of the rudely blaring alarm. The movie starts, dramatic orchestral music filling the living room right before a grave narrator intones about the dangers of mixing science and…cats apparently. Honestly, Carlos stopped expecting for the movies to make any sort of sense long, long ago.

It only takes about ten minutes before Jill frowns, brow furrowing into a deep V as she studies the screen. “So wait…they were trying to make some sort of super spy by mixing cat and people DNA and they didn’t think something like this would happen?”

He’s still working on trying to convince Jill that it’s better just to live in the moment with these types of things. 

“Isn’t that how those types of people think?” Carlos arches his eyebrows as he looks at her. 

Jill presses her lips together. “Okay…fair.” 

On screen, the damsel in distress is making sure to earn that title, screaming as the shadow of a cat person creeps across the wall and doing nothing to get herself out of that particular situation, and Carlos chuckles to himself, using his bread to wipe the last of the curry from his plate. With his stomach full and the living room bathed in the comforting black and white flickering light, his body seems to grow even heavier, exhaustion making his limbs languid. The second Jill finishes her dinner and sets her plate on the coffee table, Carlos shifts his position so that he can lean in closer, bypassing her shoulder in favor of letting his head rest in her lap, even if it does leave his legs dangling off the other end of the couch.

Jill hums, a sort of amused, contented sound, her fingers settling against the curve of his shoulder, the warmth of her palm making his skin buzz in response. He’s easy that way, especially when it comes to Jill.

“I don’t understand why-” 

“I thought we talked about this,” Carlos remarks, smile lazy, voice sounding as heavy as his muscles feel, low and throaty, “you can’t look for logic in these movies.”

“Becoming a cat person immediately makes you evil,” Jill finishes, ignoring his words of wisdom. “It’s not like every cat in the world is evil.” 

Carlos shifts, trying to resist the urge to close his eyes. “Maybe that impulse comes from the human part.”

That, at least, earns him a laugh.

Jill’s hand moves from his shoulder, fingers absently slipping through his hair and brushing across the nape of his neck, only to repeat the gesture, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. Carlos sighs, lids growing heavier by the moment. “Jill…” 

“Hmm?” She sounds distracted and when Carlos cracks one eye open to look at her, Jill’s attention is fully on the screen, her touch surely subconscious. 

“If you don’t stop now…” It’s not like he wants her to, but they’ve barely made it through even half of one movie, and Carlos is pretty sure if he fell asleep now it would be some sort of record. 

Jill’s movement pauses, fingers loosely tangled in his hair, and she glances down at him. “Oh, sorry.” 

She goes to move her hand away and warning her off suddenly seems like the worst idea Carlos thinks he’s ever had.

“Actually, I’m fine, it’s fine, eres buena.” Carlos reaches for her wrist. “Carry on, querida.”

“Sure you’re not going to fall asleep?” Jill seems highly amused by this possibility. 

“You know, I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Carlos says with a sigh, one that goes from feigned weariness to genuine contentment when Jill’s fingers brush against his scalp once more. “Besides…” he hesitates for only a second before adding, “I’ve already seen this one.”

“Carlos!”