#and scholarly

[optimistic-nihilist]

[nomazee]

Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉

May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢

Take your time! ❤️❤️

this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3

my 1k event!

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“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 

Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 

“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 

“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 

“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 

“It’s ‘you and I.’”

“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 

Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 

“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 

“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 

“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 

In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 

You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 

“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 

“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 

He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 

“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 

“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 

“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 

“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 

“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.

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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes

[drowningin-fantasies]

la prima notte di quiete (1972)

[spitblaze]

I will say this once because I'm tired of seeing stupid discourse: anti-transmasculinity is not about being treated bad because we clock as men, it's about being treated as stupid little girls because transphobes think we've been tricked into this.

It's kind of the opposite of transmisogyny- instead of fear and revulsion, it's constant condescension, the implications that we've been whisked away from femininity by scary bad guys, that we're going to cause 'irreparable damage' because we don't know what's best for ourselves, somehow. People fearmonger a lot about the "ugliness" of transfem people, but for transmasc people that 'ugliness' is used as a warning- you'll look like THIS! You'll go BALD! Your top surgery scars will leave you MUTILATED! A lot of aesthetic concerns. Worry about our 'beauty'. Because it comes from that same stupid reactionary 'we gotta SAVE the WOMEN' shit, but this time they have to save them from getting 'stolen away', as if we're being seduced or pressured into this. As if we can't make our own decisions.

For TERFS specifically, they're losing one of their own. We're 'gender traitors', willingly aligning ourselves with the half of the population they consider unilaterally dangerous and evil.

We aren't REALLY trans, we just want the benefits that men get. You don't actually want to transition, you're just trying to avoid misogyny.

You aren't actually a man, you're just a self-loathing lesbian.

Why can't you just be a butch girl? Why can't you just be a tomboy?

Why can't you just be something that I don't think is icky?

Anyway. Like all things, it boils down to misogyny. Women stupid and gentle, dont know what best for them, evil men trick into taking man juice, must save because lady stupid and dont know what best for them (having babies and being Feminine).

Theres like. Obviously more to this but I'm just a Transmasc Rando explaining this from my perspective, and I'm not the best with words. Anyone is free to hop in and add on to this

[alphabetcompletionist]

my abecedarians. my booboo bears. i beseech y'all for those scholarly article websites. my uni databases keep giving me results for articles that aren't available and, like a pirate with a helm on his crotch might say, it's driving me nuts

ABCDEFGHI KLMNOP RSTUVW Y

22/26

[prettyfuckinhot]

I don't get why anyone thinks transmascs would just roll over and cry uncle or something and stop using a word to articulate how much it fucking sucks to be transmasculine right now. I was scared for my life when roe was overturned, I'm constantly angry to see my rights taken away just because of my birth sex and my gender identity. That's just for the US, but similar issues are affecting transmascs all over the world. There is no tumblr post that is going to make me "give up" and stop talking about this with whatever word I find useful. It's literally my life, I live it. The semantics mean absolutely nothing.

[sashayed]

time for me to review The Whole Bible. ready? ok. to be honest my favorite part of the gospels is Mark 8.22-26, when Jesus spits in some nice blind man's eyeballs and accidentally gives him cosmic consciousness. guy's just like "may i have a teaspoon of visual response to stimulus" and jesus is like "oh sure" and gives him God Vision. fuckin...ayahuasca sight that perceives the interconnectedness of all life. "oh is that not normal? does everyone not have that? nuts. ok try these eyes. are those more regular? great. maybe lie down by yourself for a while and please don't mention this to anyone"

[todayontumblr]

Monday, July 17.

light academia.

It's like dark academia, but lighter. And like all good things, it has its roots right here on Tumblr. Like its darker counterpart, #light academia appreciates the finer things in life, indeed the scholarly things: procrastination, LGBTQIA+ literature, calligraphy, castles, lots of lists, vintage watches, Oxford shoes, the classics, debates, coffee 24/7, Greek mythology, thrifting clothes and books, studying in cafes, play the piano, museums, classic Greek and Gothic architecture... we could go on. We like making lists, after all.

Only this is an academic aesthetic with no time for the tragedy, existentialism, death, and desperation that marks its darker counterpart. This is Enid Sinclair to Wednesday Addams. The key differences are rather wonderfully defined right here as ...wearing light linen sundresses in foreign countries, eating picnics and pastries in the afternoon sun while reading poetry and laughing with your friends, the burning passion and excitement when you finally make a breakthrough in your research, falling asleep in your lover's arms sunkissed and happy… everything is beautiful and hopeful and no one dies. 

For others, it may be encapsulated in a single, yet profound, question.

[comradekatara]

sokka as a wikipedia admin in modern au makes so much sense, actually

no exactly like it would be such a good hobby for him bc it allows him to release all his pent up “well actually” + “you people are idiots” energy and actually funnel it into something that positively contributes to the world. unfortunately it also means he has no real leg to stand on when he lectures katara on how twitter rots your brain and profits off of generating outrage and she should really just get off that app (and all the other apps) if she doesn’t want to suffer from some kind of heart disease by the time she’s 30. because then katara will just be like “you know sometimes you leave your laptop open and i can see your history on wikipedia where you spent the past 7 hours adding [citation needed]s to every single article from particle physics to poison dart frogs to the history of metallurgy to maoism to the production timeline of shrek 4: forever after. and yet you claim that i’m the one who needs help.”

[giantchasm]

Hey, so, a while back I made a revelation, and I’m finally posting about it on Tumblr because I continue to have A Few Goddamn Questions.

Alright. So I want everyone here to take a good hard look at Joronia/Spider Sectonia. Something you might notice about her design is that she’s pretty clearly wearing clothes. And like… of course she is— why wouldn’t she? She’s more or less a mirror of Taranza’s design, and he’s wearing clothes, so she is too.

But… Sectonia. The Sectonia WE know. The final boss you defeat at the end of the video game… while she has design elements that evoke the image of clothing, seemingly only the collar, the crown, the gloves and maybe the sleeves are actual clothing. Everything else is just her body.

Which wouldn’t be all that noteworthy if she were a standalone design. Plenty of characters in Kirby, including Kirby himself, don’t wear clothes! I’m certainly not going to point at Marx and accuse his practically running around butt-naked of being weird, but in the context of the fact that Sectonia used to wear clothes?

It kind of makes it feel like she stripped for no discernible reason following her descent into villainy, and that’s really, REALLY funny.

GIRL! PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON!!! THERE ARE STRANGERS IN YOUR HOUSE.

[optimistic-nihilist]

[fashionsfromhistory]

Jacket (kassekijntje)

1775-1800

The Netherlands

Peabody Essex Museum (Object Number: 2012.22.13)

[theodysseyofhomer]

i don't think penelope is faithful to odysseus because she's the ideal wife, because i don't believe penelope is the ideal wife. i mean, FOR ODYSSEUS, yes. FOR ME, sure. but is like the common denominator ideal wife a liar and a swindler and a crybaby?? which are the first things we learn about penelope & not incidentally the first things we learn about odysseus?? is the average joe in want of a wife hoping and praying for a practiced con artist

[thecoffeeacademia]

[opia-tarot]

Hey everyone. This is a fun lil post to start off since my hiatus. Missed you all🖤

Opia’s Astro meme series

🫡Virgo placements after asking people for advice. Honestly I’m guilty of this

😨Capricorn mars and their unsolicited advice

💅Venus-Pluto and 8h placements shooting their shot

🤭trying to get an Aries mercury to agree

✨Neptune-north node getting their 100th 222 of the day

😡when a mercury square mars likes you

😭Mars-moon difficult aspects trying to keep it together when they have to repeat themselves.

🪄Neptune-mercury manifesting their crush

👑Leo Venus slogan

😳Cancer rising eyes

🔮venus-neptune when you reject their astral realm proposal

👽Uranus-ascendant when they find a conspiracy to fixate on

🫶Saturn-Pluto breaking generational curses

😶Uranus 5h and parenthood

⚙️Aquarius mercury and mercury trine Uranus daily affirmation

🫵Mars 4h this is your reminder

🫦Mars square pluto in bed

💁‍♀️Libra placement lifestyle

🥸Scorpio placements when they like someone

👩‍💻uranus-mercury when capitalism or aliens are mentioned

😎most sane Venus opposite Pluto reaction

💃Pluto 3h bedroom concert

😚Mercury-Pluto and mercury square mars eloquently roasting anyone and anything

🙄Mars square ascendant loving physical touch

😵‍💫cancer mars on a first date

😐Saturn 9h being open minded ahaha

🫵feedback is appreciated🫵

[vague-humanoid]

it is extremely gross to distort data on such an important subject with this bullshit

also, "interrupted Jewish speaker" so If I protested Ben Shapiro's transphobic ass that is counted?