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Learn How to Analyze and Interpret Dissertation Data Effectively. A comprehensive guide by PhD qualified expert for beginners and seasoned students.
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👸🏾 Three (3) : The Furies in Modern Context: 💫🌿®️
TM 👩🏾🎓🦸🏾♀️ Kania Kennedy ©️ Author: The SMART Sista’s Guide for College ©️ 👩🏾🏫 Tabitha Speak Politics Three (3) Furies DemigodFiles: Rain Kennedy 👩🏾🏫 The Furies in Modern Context The legacy of the Furies continues to resonate in modern literature and art, where they are often reinterpreted as symbols of justice and the moral complexities of vengeance. Their dual nature—as both avengers…
#Kania®️#👩🏾🏫 SMARTSista®️#💸Donated💸©️#📄Dissertation#🦸🏾♀️Sci-Fi#🧐🥷🏽🤔👩🏽🏫👩🏽🦱♿🧠144IQ❌🏦🗽🤕🏥👨⚖️GA: Detroit MI 🤠🪶 JR®️#🧐Guide#Nov2024
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Feels Like Trouble
pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Reader summary: You and Robby have been secretly dating for a while now. Most of the ER is clueless—except the five people who could probably write dissertations on your dynamic. Enter a frat boy med student with too much confidence and not enough self-awareness. Robby? Jealous. You? Oblivious. Everyone else? Watching the drama unfold like it's peak primetime television. warnings: cringe flirting, depiction of boundary-pushing behavior, mutual pining, protective!Robby genre: fluff, slow burn, banter, crack vibes, emotional constipation, robbie's love language is acts of service, strong!reader energy because women run the world word count: 6.3k a/n: robby in his protective, simmering, quietly feral era + men anticipating my needs without me having to ask is my roman empire. p.s. also check out my other Dr. Robby fics (Not Enough | And Through It All) if you're interested <3
It started at the nurses’ station.
You were finishing up notes from a back-to-back shift, hair a mess, sleeves rolled, running purely on caffeine and spite. You barely registered the med student who leaned in a little too close—Jackson, of course. Jackson, who everyone knew had barely scraped through med school with a transcript that looked like a cry for help and a reputation for quoting his frat days like gospel. Jackson, who thought calling women 'Doc' in a tone meant to charm was somehow endearing. So, yeah. Not a great dude, to say the absolute least.
"Hey, Dr. L/N," Jackson said with that ever-present grin, leaning just a little too close. "You, uh... ever take pity on exhausted interns and grab a drink after shift?"
You gave a polite smile. "I’m not really a spirits person, but thanks."
Jackson blinked. "Huh?"
"You said drink, right? I’m more of a coffee or tea girl. Caffeine over cocktails."
He opened his mouth like he was going to try again, but you were already turning back to your chart.
"Good luck today!" you said cheerfully, not noticing the groan from your colleagues. Just around the corner, Mateo muttered to Javadi, "That’s the fourth time this week. It’s painful, man."
Javadi sipped her carton of apple juice with focused precision, attention directed solely on your ability to brush off such obvious advances without it getting in the way of your work. "Seventh, actually. If you count the half-made attempt on Monday. She's bulletproof."
"Try Jackson-proof," Mateo scoffed.
Two beds down, King leaned over to Langdon with her gloved hands clasped and asked, "Why does Jackson keep hovering around Dr. L/N like a... rabid mosquito?"
Langdon just smiled knowingly, looking over to the nurses' station where the man of the hour sat. "Don’t worry. Robby'll take care of it. Eventually."
Unbeknownst to you, Robby had been watching the entire interaction—and every interaction before that. If any med student so much as breathed near you with less-than-pure intentions, he was up in arms, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.
There was that time Whitaker nearly took your eye out when a patient came in with a nail embedded in his femur; the force of pulling it out snapped Whitaker’s elbow backward—only for Robby's hand to catch it mid-swing before it could clock you in the face. Or when Santos nearly sliced your finger open as you gently guided her through her first incision—Robby had materialized behind her in the span of a gasp, steadying her hands with a calm correction that masked sheer panic. Or when Javadi passed out for the second time during a gnarly pelvic realignment and collapsed straight into you, nearly giving you a concussion from her deadweight—Robby had been there then, too, catching you both with lightning reflexes and barely concealed fury.
At this point, the only person in the hospital who hadn’t triggered Robby’s internal security system was Mel. And that was only because she kept a respectful three-foot radius and shared snacks with you during breaks. The two of you had a quiet little tradition—inviting her out to try the new cat café when it opened downtown, or attending weekend adoption events together like it was a team-building exercise. Langdon once joked that she was the third wheel in the most wholesome slow-burn romcom he'd ever seen. Mel's only response was two blinks and a single nod of acknowledgement.
Everyone in the ER noticed your dynamic—the way you and Robby worked together like a well-oiled machine, never needing to speak aloud to know what the other needed. It was intuitive. Rhythmic. Like watching a dance you’d been rehearsing for years.
Still, only a handful of people actually knew about your relationship. Abbot, Collins, McKay, Dana, Langdon, and Mel.
Abbot had been Robby’s sounding board from the very beginning. Back when Robby was still pacing around the break room, torn between professionalism and the undeniable, slow-burning pull he felt toward you, it was Abbot who told him to get over himself and ask you out. Life was too short for regrets.
Collins, McKay, and Dana didn’t know officially—but they knew. The meaningful glances, the subtle handoffs of coffee, the shared silences that were too loaded to be casual. They never said a word because they lived for the soap-opera-worthy drama of it all.
Langdon and Mel were on the same wavelength. They hadn’t caught you red-handed, but their spidey senses were borderline clairvoyant. They never probed, never asked. Just watched it unfold like a plotline they already knew the ending to.
Besides them, the rest of the department remained blissfully unaware—except for the way Robby’s entire demeanor shifted over a year ago. A quiet warmth started to replace his usual stoicism. People credited it to the anonymous private donation made to the ER around the same time.
But the truth was, it had nothing to do with money.
It was you.
You, of course, were oblivious to whatever other people thought or said—unless it had something to do with your patients. Robby sometimes joked that you were pathologically unbothered, something he made a mental note to ask you about, and he wasn’t wrong. The rumors from the nurses, the looks from the interns, the knowing smirks from Dana or Langdon? All of it flew over your head like air traffic.
Maybe you just didn’t see it. Didn’t see how Robby’s entire world seemed to tilt when you entered a room. How effortlessly the two of you moved in sync like second nature—side by side in trauma bays, tossing instruments, treatment plans, and glances back and forth like muscle memory. Everyone else could see it.
You were always focused on the next decision, the next step, the next person who needed your help. You didn’t think about what you needed until the shift was over—if ever. Your well-being came last, always.
But not to Robby. Never to Robby.
He noticed everything.
The slump in your shoulders. The faint crease in your forehead when a headache was starting to set in. He knew when you were on the verge of running on empty, when your patience was thinning, when you hadn’t eaten since sunrise. He never made a show of it. He just acted.
He didn’t wait for you to ask. He didn’t expect you to remember to need anything.
Because he already knew. He just... knew.
Your coffee, brewed and sweetened exactly how you liked it, would be waiting for you at the nurses’ station first thing in the morning. A second cup at lunch—always packed, always hot, even if you never had time to drink it. He’d drop it off like it was routine, like it was no big deal, because he knew the odds of you being pulled into another case mid-sip were astronomical.
Your favorite sandwich from the cafeteria, left quietly on your desk with a sticky note that said, “Eat this or I’m calling your mother.” You'd sooner pass out from hunger than remember to eat. He knew that. So he took the thinking out of it for you.
And after the longest days—those days where you'd made a thousand decisions, answered a hundred questions, led back-to-back codes—he’d cook dinner at his place. Quietly, without fanfare, and pieced together with the same kind of intention you gave your patients. He’d hand you a glass of water—because that was one other thing that you along with 80% of the population deprived yourself of—and steer you to the couch while he handled the rest. Just so you could turn your brain off.
You never asked, never had to, yet he always knew.
You’d just been snapped back to the present by the sound of an unwelcome familiar voice—again.
"Dr. L/N," he said, sidling up to you again with that same confident grin—clearly not deterred by every failed attempt before. "I’ve got a list of mocktails that might just change your mind. Pretty creative, right? I googled it during lunch. There’s this one with lychee and—"
You blinked at him slowly, like you were buffering.
"Jackson," you said, voice firmer this time, "I don’t even have time to finish a protein bar most days, let alone entertain another pitch for drinks. You’re taking time away from my patients, my patients. I sincerely hope you don’t treat them the same way—ignoring their boundaries and refusing to take no for an answer."
You didn’t say it harshly. Just plainly. Clearly and finite. Like a diagnosis that needed no follow-up.
Across the room, Robby pulled down his glasses as his lip quirked up into a slow, private smirk. Pride bloomed across his face so fast he had to duck his head behind a chart to hide it. He knew better than to coddle you. The mutual discomfort and stifled reactions from the staff were one thing. Watching you handle yourself like that? That was something else entirely.
From across the nurses’ station, the staff collectively cringed like someone had just dropped a post-op surgical tray. Santos and Mateo physically turned away to hide their budding laughter. Javadi buried her face in her sleeve, secondhand embarrassment blooming. Mohan took off at a brisk pace to see a patient. Whitaker closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer to the ceiling. Meanwhile, Dana, McKay, and Collins couldn’t look away if they tried, pressing down their grins and wishing they'd brought popcorn. Langdon sipped his coffee like it was a box-office premiere. King, ever diligent, kept her focus on irrigating her patient’s wound—Langdon would fill her in later with full commentary. Before you could continue—
"Dr. L/N," your savior called, tone light but cutting through the air like a scalpel—just loud enough to interrupt whatever nonsense Jackson was about to say next.
You turned and there he was.
Dr. Robby—your chaos compass, your caffeinated partner in crime, loyal boyfriend, favorite soon-to-be roommate, and at the moment, your very composed but unmistakably irritated attending—his expression perfectly calm to the untrained eye, but you could read the tension in every line of his face.
"Got a case," he said flatly. "Now. Come on."
You blinked, confused but relieved. "Okay."
You didn’t miss the way Jackson shrank a little at Robby’s tone, nor the way Langdon grinned over his coffee like he'd just won a bet. You caught up to him by the supply closet, where he all but dragged you inside and shut the door behind you.
"What's up?" you asked, eyebrow raised.
He stared at you, a little too intently, like he wasn’t sure whether to scold you or wrap you in bubble wrap. "Are you seriously asking me that after that guy just tried to chat you up in the middle of the ER like this is Grey’s Anatomy?"
You blinked, tilting your head. "Wait… was that flirting?"
Robby blinked back. "You’re joking."
You were. "I thought he just wanted to split an energy drink or something."
He huffed a quiet laugh, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders as his hands came up to ruffle his hair. "Jesus."
You poked his chest lightly. "You’re kind of cute when you’re flustered, you know that?"
His ears went red immediately. "I’m not flustered. I’m... professionally annoyed."
You blinked. "You’re jealous?"
"I’m not jealous," he said tightly. "I’m—concerned."
You grinned, stepping close. "Concerned is hot."
"He was twelve."
"He's definitely at least twenty-six."
Robby exhaled through his nose. "I’ve been very chill about this whole 'let’s not tell the hospital we’re dating' thing. But if I see him so much as come within two feet of you again, I’m submitting a formal notice that you are very much taken and a complaint with HR about his behavior. And if that doesn’t work—" he leaned in closer, voice dropping—"I’m dealing with him myself."
You raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a smirk. "What’s that going to look like—are you gonna slam your clipboard down and tag team him with Abbot? Because honestly, I wouldn’t hate that."
Your voice was teasing, but your cheeks were warm. Watching Robby get territorial from a respectful distance? Unexpectedly hot. And now, you couldn’t help but push his buttons to see how much more riled up he’d get.
He didn’t answer. Just leaned in slowly, deliberately, raising both of his arms to cage you in—palms flat against the wall on either side of your head. The move sent heat straight to your cheeks, blinking up at him as he leaned closer, so close his breath brushed your lips.
Then he kissed you—hard and fast and possessive, his hands sliding up into your hair, threading through it with the kind of reverence that made your knees go weak. You gasped softly into his mouth, one hand instinctively rising to cup his jaw, your fingers grazing the edge of his beard before curling into the softness of it. He leaned into your touch, like he’d been waiting for it all day.
Your other hand slid up into his hair, tugging gently at the strands at the nape of his neck, and you felt it—the way his pulse thrummed just beneath your fingertips, the way he shivered just slightly at your touch.
His thumbs caressed the line of your jaw, then drifted down to the curve of your neck, holding you like you might slip away if he wasn’t careful.
It was fire and softness, urgency wrapped in warmth. And you never wanted to stop.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. "Is that allowed in a supply closet?" you smirked.
"If they didn’t want people kissing in here, they wouldn’t make it this conveniently located."
You smacked his arm, giggling.
"I’m serious," he added, voice softening but maintaining a firm undertone. "I don't share."
You looped your arms around his neck. "Good. I wasn’t offering."
He grinned, still close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. "That thing you said back there—about boundaries, about respect." He paused, eyes scanning yours. "That was... incredible. Seriously. You handled it perfectly."
Your brows furrowed for a moment, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice.
"It was... commanding," he added a moment later, voice lower, more playful now. "Alluringly so."
You snorted. "You're ridiculous."
"Yeah," he agreed, pulling you closer to pepper your face with kisses. "Ridiculously in love with a woman who knows exactly how to shut down frat boys without breaking stride, resuscitate half the ER, deliver excellent patient care, and still make rounds on time."
His hand slid down your back, warm and steady. "You’re the whole damn package, you know that? It’s genuinely unfair."
You chuckled, burying your face briefly in his shoulder.
Somewhere down the hall, Dana's voice rang echoed through the PA, summoning you for the consult. Robby groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder.
"This is not over," he muttered.
You kissed the corner of his mouth, a smirk following soon after where your lips lingered. "Got any dinner plans?"
Robby raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Actually, yeah. I’ve got a date—with my incredibly beautiful, breathtaking, beyond intelligent, and painfully witty girlfriend."
You blinked at him, then laughed, delighted. "Wow. Sounds like a catch."
He leaned in and bumped his nose against yours, grinning. "She really is. And I think she’s about to say yes."
You didn’t say anything at first. Just smiled, so full of affection it made your cheeks ache. Then you nodded, brushing your thumb gently along his cheekbone.
"Yeah," you whispered, "she definitely is."
#the pitt#the pitt hbo#the pitt x reader#the pitt fanfiction#dr. robby#michael robinavitch#dr robby x reader#michael robinavitch x reader#noah wyle#dr robby imagine#the pitt spoilers#dr. robby x reader#dr robby x you#the pitt imagine#michael robinavitch imagine#mel king#samira mohan#melissa king#dennis whitaker#mateo diaz#victoria javadi#dr langdon#frank langdon#jack abbott#jack abbot#cassie mckay#heather collins#trinity santos
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Choosing the right dissertation topic is a critical step in your academic journey, especially in a creative and dynamic field like architecture. A captivating topic not only engages your interest but also contributes significantly to the field. This guide provides expert tips to help you select a compelling architecture dissertation topic that aligns with your passions and academic goals.
#Guide To Choose Right Disertation#g the right dissertation topic#How To Choose#Guide To Choose Right Dissertation#help on Architecture Dissertation
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3.2 Part Four - artists and writing; 2023 materials
I chose the Dissertation option last year and began writing early in 3.1 as this was an easier option than practical artwork at the time. Then, due to some confusions over what had to be submitted and when, the Dissertation vanished briefly and an unexpected essay appeared. After quite a lot of work behind the scenes, the Dissertation returned, albeit not to the 3.2 materials. The essay though…
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18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni
consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.
college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.
college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.
college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.
"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."
college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.
she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.
"well... fuck."
college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.
"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.
"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"
"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.
"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.
vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --
"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.
"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"
"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.
you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.
"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."
college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.
college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --
"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"
"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.
after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.
"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."
"out?"
"yeah. to celebrate."
you blink as vi pulls her hand away.
"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."
vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."
college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.
she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --
"come on! i wanna dance!"
college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --
college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --
but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.
college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --
"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"
"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"
it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.
"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.
"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.
"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."
vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.
"wait -- what? you..."
you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"
you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.
college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --
"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.
"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"
"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.
vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."
college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.
college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.
"all this for me, pretty?"
you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.
"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).
she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.
"nope, keep 'em open princess."
college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.
she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.
college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.
"what are you --"
you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.
"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"
college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.
"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"
she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.
"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."
vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.
"you're amazing, y'know that?"
college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).
who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --
"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."
#this is 3.4k words long hooolyyyyy shittttt someone shut me the fuck up; but literally i could've kept going#⛈ monsoon season#♨ steamy#arcane x reader#vi x reader#violet x reader#arcane smut#vi smut#arcane vi smut#vi arcane#arcane#lesbian#no like literally someone needs to shove their fingers down my throat (preferably vi tbh) bc i CANNOT SHUT UP#there will be more to this au TRUST#the post just got so long i felt like i needed to stop if only for length asldkjfd but like i might just start a new post and write more wo#i genuinely do not remember the last time i was THIS into a character TRULY#smut#x reader#also like i love this specific kind of 'brainrot' bc im actually legitimately writing this for myself like i want to read it back and sob#college roommate!vi
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𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
table of contents: books; anthologies, history, novels, erotica, photography. films; movies, documentaries, shorts. miscellaneous; dissertations, articles, etc. note: everything (minus a few) has a link to access the media! if i am able to find the missing links i will attach them along with adding new content. there are a couple things that are not specifically butchfemme, but i kept them because i feel that they fit. enjoy!
𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜 + 𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜
୨୧ A Restricted Country by Joan Nestle
୨୧ Brazen Femme: Queering Femininity by Chloë Brushwood Rose, Anna Camilleri
୨୧ Butch/Femme: Inside Lesbian Gender by Sally R. Munt, Cherry Smyth
୨୧ Butch is a Noun by S. Bear Bergman
୨୧ Femme/Butch: New Considerations of the Way We Want to Go by Michelle Gibson, Deborah Meem
୨୧ Femme: Feminists, Lesbians, and Bad Girls by Laura Harris, Elizabeth Crocker
୨୧ Lesbian Culture: The Lives, Work, Ideas, Art and Visions of Lesbians Past and Present by Julia Penelope, Susan Wolfe
୨୧ On Butch and Femme: A Compiled Readings by I.M. Epstein
୨୧ Persistence: All Ways Butch and Femme by Ivan Coyote, Zena Sharman
୨୧ Render Me, Gender Me: Lesbians Talk Sex, Class, Color, Nation, Studmuffins... by Kath Weston
୨୧ S/he by Minnie Bruce Pratt
୨୧ The Femme Mystique by Leslea Newman
୨୧ The Femme's Guide To The Universe by Shar Rednour
୨୧ The Lesbian Erotic Dance: Butch, Femme, Androgyny, and Other Rhythms by JoAnn Loulan
୨୧ The Little Butch Book by Leslea Newman
୨୧ The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader by Joan Nestle
୨୧ Tomboys!: Tales of Dyke Derring-Do by Lynne Y. Fletcher, Karen Barber
୨୧ Tomboy Survival Guide by Ivan Coyote
𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢
NOTE ⋆ there is more history content in the film section as well as historical fiction in the novel section!!!
୨୧ Appearances Can Be Deceiving: Butch-Femme Fashion and Queer Legibility in New York City, 1945–1969 by Alix Gitner
୨୧ Baby, You Are My Religion: Women, Gay Bars, And Theology Before Stonewall by Marie Cartier
୨୧ Becoming Visible: An Illustrated History Of Lesbian And Gay Life In Twentieth-Century America by Molly McGary, Fred Wasserman
୨୧ Before Stonewall: The Making of a Gay and Lesbian Community by Andrea Weiss
୨୧ Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold: The History of a Lesbian Community by Elizabeth Lapovsky Kennedy, Madaline D. Davis
୨୧ GLBT Historical Society: Museum & Archives ⋆ general LGBT archives, but a very important and great source
୨୧ Making History: The Struggle for Gay and Lesbian Equal Rights: 1945-1990: An Oral History by Eric Marcus
୨୧ Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers: A History of Lesbian Life In Twentieth-Century America by Lillian Faderman
୨୧ Uninvited: Classical Hollywood Cinema and Lesbian Representability by Patricia White
୨୧ Unsuitable: A History of Lesbian Fashion by Eleanor Medhurst
𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜
୨୧ A Crystal Diary: A Novel by Frankie Hucklenbroich ⋆ The razor-edged, compelling, often wryly humorous story hustles us from the blood-and-beer-drenched corners of her St. Louis meat-packing district '50s youth, through the sex-soaked Hollywood alleys of her '60s baby butch years, into the druggy metropolis of '70s San Francisco.
୨୧ Beebo Brinker by Ann Bannon ⋆ Beeboo, a butch 17-year-old farm girl newly arrived in New York after she is driven from her Wisconsin home town for wearing drag to the State Fair. Befriended by the gay Jack Mann, a father-figure with a weakness for runaways, Beebo sets out to find love.
୨୧ Departure from the Script by Jae ⋆ An aspiring actress meeting photographer, femme meeting butch in this light-hearted lesbian romance set in Hollywood.
୨୧ Doc and Fluff: The Dystopian Tale of a Girl and Her Biker by Pat Califia ⋆ Set in the bleak and not-too-distant future of a culture in its death throes, Doc and Fluff careens through the lives of a pair of outlaw women struggling to survive on the road.
୨୧ Feast While You Can by Mikaella Clements, Onjuli Datta ⋆ A fresh, queer spin on possession horror with a sharp focus on deeply complex small-town dynamics. A young queer woman who's lived her whole life in the dead-end mountain village of Cadenze finds herself violently possessed by an ancient, malevolent, memory-eating entity that inhabits the caves bordering her home.
୨୧ Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo ⋆ America in 1954 is not a safe place for two girls to fall in love, especially not in Chinatown. Red-Scare paranoia threatens everyone, including Chinese Americans like Lily. With deportation looming over her father—despite his hard-won citizenship—Lily and Kath risk everything to let their love see the light of day.
୨୧ Lucy and Mickey by Red Jordan Arobateau ⋆ Lesbian life in the late 1950s, early '60s; and a powerful romance & sexual drama between two females, Lucy & Mickey.
୨୧ Patience and Sarah by Isabel Miller ⋆ In an early puritanical New England town, a butch and femme fall in love and discover they can run a farm and live together away from the world that sought to limit them and their love.
୨୧ Satan's Best by Red Jordan Arobateau ⋆ volume #1 in the ten book lesbian biker series THE OUTLAW CHRONICLES. In this action-packed novel we are introduced to the gang of raunchy and glamorous biker women, including the 5 Warlords who run the Outlaws. Enter beautiful blond butch Angel–lone rider on the storm.
୨୧ Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg ⋆ The life of Jess Goldberg, a working-class Jewish butch lesbian in New York from the 1940s through the 1970s.
୨୧ The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall ⋆ The timeless struggle of a butch and femme couple to be accepted by "polite" society. This now classic was banned outright upon publication in 1928.
𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜
୨୧ Back To Basics: A Butch-Femme Anthology by Theresa Szymanski
୨୧ Breathless: Erotica by Kitty Tsui
୨୧ Hard Road, Easy Riding: Lesbian Biker Erotica by Sacchi Green, Rakelle Valencia
୨୧ Rode Hard, Put Away Wet: Lesbian Cowboy Erotica by Sacchi Green, Rakelle Valencia
୨୧ Set in Stone: Butch-on-Butch Erotica by Angela Brown
୨୧ Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch Femme Erotica by Tristan Taormino
୨୧ The Harder She Comes: Butch/Femme Erotica by D.L. King
𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚢 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍
୨୧ Butch/Femme edited by M.G. Soares
୨୧ Butch: Not Like The Other Girls by SD Holman
୨୧ Dagger On Butch Women by Lily Burana, Roxxie Linnea Due
୨୧ Love Bites by Del LaGrace Volcano
୨୧ Making Out: The Book Of Lesbian Sex And Sexuality by Zoe Schramm-Evans, Laurence Jaugey Paget
୨୧ Nothing But The Girl: The Blatant Lesbian Image by Susie Bright, Jill Posener
୨୧ The Butch/Femme Photo Project by Wendi Kali
୨୧ The Drag King Book by Del LaGrace Volcano, Judith "Jack" Halberstam
୨୧ The Femme's Guide to the Universe by Shar Rednour
𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚜
୨୧ A Complicated Queerness: Living Femme in a Dyke Community dir. Johanna Buchignani, Emily Hillman ⋆ short film: This film investigates the ways in which gender, power and sexism are lived and experienced within the San Francisco Mission dyke community. The documentary aims to promote awareness of and discussion about the prejudice and invisibility of queer femininity, in order to build alliances and healthier communities.
୨୧ Before Stonewall (1984) dir. Greta Schiller, Robert Rosenberg ⋆ documentary: The history of the Gay and Lesbian community before the Stonewall riots began the major gay rights movement.
୨୧ Bound (1996) dir. The Wachowskis ⋆ thriller/crime: Corky, a tough female ex-convict working on an apartment renovation in a Chicago building meets a couple living next door, Caesar, a paranoid mobster, and Violet.
୨୧ By Hook or By Crook (2001) dir. Harry Dodge, Silas Howard ⋆ crime/romance: A buddy film that chronicles two butches, Shy and Valentine, who collide by chance in the San Francisco streets. Shy is immersed in daydreams about the loving father they lost and Valentine is searching for the mother they never met. Like-hearted mischievous souls, the pair stumbles into a series of shambolic shenanigans — along with Valentine’s girlfriend, Billie.
୨୧ Dream Girls (1994) dir. Kim Longinotto, Jano Williams ⋆ documentary: Women join Japan's all-female Takarazuka Revue musical theater troupe, portraying men's roles. The film explores gender dynamics, desires, and complexities of female identity in Japanese society through these performers' experiences.
୨୧ Gay Tape: Butch and Femme (1985) by Cecilia Dougherty ⋆ short: The Gay Tape brings “a little fine-tuning” to the question of representation, honing in on the subjective particularities of the butch-femme dynamic as experienced by members of Dougherty’s local Bay Area dating pool.
୨୧ Gender Troubles: The Butches (2016) dir. Lisa Plourde ⋆ documentary: What portrayals of lesbianism are acceptable and who gets erased? Butch lesbians from a wide range of backgrounds and ages provide a compelling exploration of society's assumptions and challenge ideas about what it means to be female. They show the rewards that come with self acceptance. Tender, funny, and thought-provoking. NOTE: after clicking the link, scroll down to the middle to watch where it is available with english audio and french, spanish, dutch, or portuguese subtitles.
୨୧ If These Walls Could Talk 2 (2000) dir. Jane Anderson, Anne Heche, Martha Coolidge ⋆ romance/drama: This anthology of short films tells the stories of three lesbian couples - who live in the same house at different periods of time - who are at a crossroads in their lives. The second story includes a motorcycle riding, leather jacket and tie wearing butch, Amy.
୨୧ Last Call at Maud's (1993) dir. Paris Poirier ⋆ documentary: Some genuinely wild women – and some more demure but no less lively types – take center stage in Paris Poirier’s vivacious documentary about the life and times of Maud’s, the longest running lesbian bar ever.
୨୧ Salmonberries (1991) dir. Percy Adlon ⋆ drama/indie: A woman (played by k.d. lang) who grew up in a small town in Alaska goes to the public library to try and find out who her parents were. She eventually befriends the librarian, an East German immigrant who lost her husband while escaping from behind the Iron Curtain. They help each other try to find closure to the events in their past.
୨୧ Shinjuku Boys (1995) dir. Jano Williams, Kim Longinotto ⋆ documentary: This documentary offers rich insight into gender and sexuality in Japan via a candid portrait of Kazuki, Tatsu, and Gaish, three trans masculine hosts working at the New Marilyn Club in Tokyo’s bustling Shinjuku district. As the film follows them at home and on the job, all three talk frankly about their lives, revealing their views on love, sex, and identity.
୨୧ Stormé: The Lady of the Jewel Box (1987) dir. Michelle Parkerson ⋆ documentary/short film: Through archival clips, Stormé DeLarverie, bodygaurd of a women's club and former drag king looks back on the grandeur of the Jewel Box Revue and its celebration of pure entertainment in the face of homophobia and segregation.
୨୧ Stud Life (2012) dir. Campbell X ⋆ romance/drama: JJ, a lesbian, works as a wedding photographer with Seb, a gay man who is her best friend. After JJ falls in love with a gorgeous diva, her friendship with Seb becomes strained, and she may be forced to choose between Seb and her lover.
୨୧ The Aggressives (2005) dir. Daniel Peddle ⋆ documentary: The Aggressives is an exposé on the subculture of masculine presenting people of color and their femme counterparts. Filmed over five years in New York City, the featured subjects share their dreams, secrets, and deepest fears.
୨୧ The Watermelon Woman (1996) dir. Cheryl Dunye ⋆ romance/comedy: An aspiring black lesbian filmmaker researches an obscure 1930s black actress billed as the Watermelon Woman.
𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚘𝚞𝚜
୨୧ A Butch Road Map by Ivan Coyote ⋆ spoken word
୨୧ A Dyke's Bike Repair Handbook by Jill Taylor ⋆ motorcycle care/repair handbook, this one is so random i just love it lol
୨୧ Are Butch and Fem Working-Class and Anti-Feminist? by Sara L. Crawley ⋆ article
୨୧ Butch Between the Wars: A Pre-History of Butch Style in Twentieth-Century Literature, Music, and Film by Karen Allison Hammer ⋆ dissertation
୨୧ Female Masculinity by Judith Halberstam
୨୧ Feminizing Theory: Making Space for Femme Theory by Rhea Ashley Hoskin ⋆ thesis
୨୧ Femme: Feminists, Lesbians, and Bad Girls by Laura Harris, Elizabeth Crocker
୨୧ Lesbian Identity and the Politics of Butch-Femme by Amy Goodloe ⋆ paper/review
୨୧ Lineage To My Femme Foremothers by A.N. ⋆ zine
୨୧ Lipstick & Dipstick's Essential Guide to Lesbian Relationships by Gina Daggett, Kathy Belge
୨୧ Narrating and Negotiating Butch and Femme: Storying Lesbian Selves in a Heteronormative World by Sara L. Crawley ⋆ dissertation
୨୧ On the Appropriation of Femme from Lesbians Over Everything, a discussion between four femmes ⋆ article
୨୧ The Misunderstood Gender: A Model of Modern Femme Identity by Heidi Levitt, Elisabeth Gerrish, Katherine Hiestand ⋆ study
୨୧ The Mythic Mannish Lesbian: Radclyffe Hall and the New Woman by Esther Newton
୨୧ To All the Beautiful, Kick-Ass, and Fierce, Full-Bodied Femmes by Ivan Coyote ⋆ spoken word
i was meaning to post this for when i hit 1k followers, but i somehow have already surpassed that. it is weird to think that i started this blog on january 27. thank you all so much for following and interacting. i hope you enjoy this list and my blog in general!!
much love 💋
#butchfemme masterpost#lesbian#butch lesbian#femme lesbian#lesbian history#butchfemme history#lgbt history#butchfemme
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do you have any advice for those in the very early stages of thesis-writing? currently desperately clinging to the mantra of "shitty first drafts," et al
Unfortunately, there is no place where you will more whole-assedly have to embrace the "shitty first draft" mantra than in academic writing, especially in thesis writing, especially if this is your first-ish crack at an advanced and major piece of original research. I'm not sure if this is for an undergraduate senior thesis, a MA-level thesis, or (my true and heartfelt sympathies) a PhD dissertation, but the basic principles of it will remain the same. So there is that, at least. This means that yes, you will write something, you may even feel slightly proud of it, and then you will hand it into your supervisor and they will more or less kindly dismantle it. You have to train yourself to have a thick skin about this and not take it as a personal insult, and if your supervisor is remotely good at their job (not all of them are, alas) they will know how to be tactful about it and not make it feel like a direct and extensive commentary on your private worth as a person. But you will have to swallow it and do what you can, which can include -- if you're the one who has done the research and know that's how you want to present it and/or you are correct about it -- pushing back and having a conversation with them about how you think your original approach does work best. But that will come later. The first step is, yes, to mentally gird yourself to receive critical feedback on something that you have worked hard on, and to understand that no matter how much you grump and grumble and deservedly vent to your friends and so on, implementing the feedback will usually make your piece better and stronger. That is the benefit of working with a trained expert who knows what makes a good piece of research in your particular academic field, and while it doesn't get easier, per se, at least it gets familiar. Be not afraid, etc.
If you're in the writing stage, I assume that you've moved past the topic-selection and general-research stage, but allow me to plump once more the services of your friendly local university library. You can (or at least you can at mine and probably in any decently well-equipped research university) schedule a personal consultation with an expert librarian, who can give you tips on how to find relevant subject databases, create individual research guides (these might already be available on the university library website for classes/general topics), and otherwise level you up to Shockingly Competent Research Superhero. So if you're still looking for a few extra sources, or for someone else who might be reading this and is still in the "how the heck do I find appropriate and extensive scholarly literature for my thesis??" stage, please. Go become a Research Ninja. It's much easier when you have a minion doing half the work for you, but please do appreciate and make use of your university librarian. It's much more effective than haphazard Google Scholar or JSTOR searches hoping to turn up something vaguely relevant (though to be fair, we all do that too), and it's what your tuition dollars are paying for.
Next, please do remind yourself that you are not writing the whole thesis in one go, and to break it down into manageable chunks. It usually does make sense to write the whole thing semi-chronologically (i.e. introduction, lit review, chapter 1, chapter 2/3/4 etc, conclusion), because that allows you to develop your thoughts and make logical connections, and to build on one piece to develop the next. If you're constantly scrambling between chapters and zig-zagging back and forth as things occur to you, it will be harder to focus on any one thought or thread of research, and while you might get more raw output, it will not be as good and will require more correction and revision, so you're not actually hacking yourself into increased productivity. You should also internally structure your chapters in addition to organizing your overall thesis, so it makes sense to draw up a rough outline for section A, section B, section C within the body of a single chapter. This will make you think about why the segues are going in that order and what a reasonably intelligent reader, who nonetheless may not have the specialized knowledge that you are demonstrating for them, needs to move understandably from one section to the next.
Some academics I know like to do an extensive outline, dumping all their material into separate documents for each chapter/paper and kneading and massaging and poking it into a more refined shape, and if that works for you -- great! I'm more of the type that doesn't bother with a ton of secondary outlines or non-writing activity, since that can lead you away from actually writing, but if you need to see the fruit of your research all together in one place before you can start thinking about how it goes together, that is also absolutely the way that some people do it. Either way, to be a successful academic writer, you have to train yourself to approach academic writing in a very different way from fun writing. You do fun writing when you have free time and feel inspired and can glop a lot of words down at once, or at least some words. You do it electively and for distraction and when you want to, not to a set timeline or schedule, and alas, you can't do this for academic writing. You will have to sit your ass down and write even when you do not feel like writing, do not feel Magically Inspired, don't even want to look at the fucking thing, etc. I have had enough practice that I can turn on Academic Writing Brain, sit down, bang something out, sit down the next day and turn on Academic Editing Brain, go over it again, and send it off, but I have been in academia for uh, quite a while. The good news is that you can also automate yourself to be the same way, but the bad news is that it will take practice and genuine time invested in it.
As such, this means developing a writing schedule and sticking to it, and figuring out whether you work best going for several hours without an interruption, or if you set a timer, write for a certain time, then allow yourself to look at the internet/answer texts/fuck around on Tumblr, and then make yourself put down the distraction and go back to work for another set period of time. (I am admittedly horrible at putting my phone away when I should be doing something else, but learn ye from your wizened elders, etc.) You will have to figure out in which physical space you work best, which may not be a public coffee shop where you can likewise get distracted with doing other things/chatting to friends/screwing around on the internet/doomscrolling/peeking at AO3, and to try to be there as often as possible. It might be your carrel in the library, it might be your desk at home, it might be somewhere else on campus, but if you can place yourself in a setting that tells your brain it's time to work and not look at WhatsApp for the 1000th time in a row, that is also beneficial.
Finally, remember that you do not have to produce an absolutely world-beating, stunningly original, totally flawless and perfect piece, even in its final form. Lots of us write very shitty things when we're starting out (and some of us, uh, still write very shitty things as established academics), and you do not have to totally redefine your entire field of study or propose a groundbreaking theory that nobody has heard of or anything like that. A lot of academic work is small-scale and nuanced, filling in spaces on the margins of other things or responding or offering a new perspective on existing work, and it's best to think of it as a conversation between yourself and other scholars. They have said something and now you're saying something back. You don't need to be so brilliant that everyone goes ZOMGZ I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THAT BEFORE; by its nature that happens very rarely and is usually way out on a limb (extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, etc); you just need to continue the dialogue with a reasonably well-constructed and internally plausible piece. So if you think of it that way, and understand that a shitty first draft will usually develop into something that is good and valuable but not SHOCKING NEW REVELATION clickbait hype, you will take some of the pressure off yourself and be more able to shut up that perfectionist voice in your head. However, all of us have some degree of imposter syndrome and it never entirely goes away, so you'll have to manage that too. Etc etc as before, it doesn't vanish altogether, but it gets easier.
And last but not least, though I'm sure I don't have to say this: for the love of fuckin' god, do not use ChatGPT. Even the genuinely shittiest paper in the world that you still worked on researching, organizing, and writing with your own brain is better than that. Trust me.
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⭐ 60 Fun Meet Cutes ⭐
1) A and B’s coffee orders are identical. Confusion (and promised calls) occur.
2) A always steals B’s parking spot and normally they wouldn't say anything but not today asshole!
3) A and B are seated next to each other at the singles table for a wedding.
4) B owns a bookshop and A really needs this book because their book club meeting is in two days.
5) A is a doctor/nurse treating B for an injury, but B won't stop flirting.
6) A pretends to be B’s significant other because they can tell that creep is bothering B.
7) They meet at the dog park and their dogs won't stop playing with one another.
8) They meet at the dog park and B’s dog won't stop following A’s!
9) They're both at a party and notice the other is sitting alone on the couch so we join.
10) They get volun-told to do a karaoke duet by their respective friend groups.
12) A and B’s families have been trying to set them up for years. They meet by accident.
13) A runs a stand at the local farmers market that B loves (the owner being cute and sweet is a major plus too).
14) They grab the same book at the library.
15) “You have the wrong number, but stay on!”
16) A and B have been set up on a blind date together. Neither one of them expect it to go well, given their mutual friend's track record.
17) A and B both want the last pack of cigarettes. It's not even for themselves, but they'll certainly argue about it.
18) "Hi, I'm pretty sure I saw you on a dating app and while I swiped right, you did not and wow you're beautiful in person."
19) A’s a tour guide for B, who is currently supervising a field trip of twenty seven-year olds.
20) A is B’s least favorite author but they don't realize until halfway through their rant.
21) "Hey, my friend is into your friend. But they're too scared to make a move, can you help me get them together?"
22) They're at the grocery store and A can't reach the item on the top shelf, so B helps them.
23) “Hey, so I helped your grandparent cross the street and they insisted that I meet you, their grandchild.”
24) It's their high school reunion and A is like eighty percent sure B was their lab partner, unfortunately B has no idea what they're talking about.
25) A’s friends insisted on going to a strip club for a bachelor/bachelorette party and A is really enjoying their time talking to B, the hostess.
26) An unexpected torrential downpour happens and they end up taking shelter at the same place.
27) “I'm your neighbor and I swear to God, if you don't turn that music down-"
28) They’re both PhD students and their dissertations contradict each other's and boy, are they going to have some intense eye contact about it.
29) B is A’s child's new teacher and their kid won't stop mentioning that their parent is single.
30 “I'm so sorry, but my friends won't stop bothering me until I get someone's number tonight, it doesn't have to be your real one, I'm just so tired of their shenanigans.”
31) A is the hot firefighter who visits B’s classroom to talk about safety.
32) A and B are paired up for a roller coaster and one of them needs to hold the other's hand to get through the ride.
33) “Look, your date may not want to dance with you, but I certainly will!”
34) They're both celebrities and their fans ship them so A and B do an interview together for their respective press tours.
35) They're both on the bus and A is reading the book B’s been wanting so badly and they gotta know if it's good or not because the waitlist at the library is ridiculous.
36) They're at an art museum and have wildly different interpretations of the same portrait.
37) It's been arranged by their families for A and B to marry as a peace treaty. When they meet for the first time, they bond over their families fighting
38) "Do you mind if I sit here? There are no other seats available."
39) A doesn’t know why their friend's girlfriend invited them to their coworker's nephew's bar mitzvah but they have a stain from the chocolate fountain and B is an angel with their Tide to go stick.
40) “If you don't fix your collar/tie/hat, I will do it myself!”
41) “The food in your grocery store cart looks so good, what are you making?"
42) A sees B at the Renaissance Fair and is determined to give B a rose.
43) They're both at the eye doctor and can't figure out which glasses to buy.
44) They end up sitting next to each other in a movie theater during a horror movie, and cling to each other for moral support
45) A owns a flower shop and B just needs the courage to go inside and say hello.
46) B’s dog somehow got out and A find it. Yes, it's late at night but from B’s voice over the phone, A knows they need to return this dog STAT.
47) A has always signed up to bring the dessert for their work's potluck. Who does B think they are taking their slot?
48) A’s friends signed them up for a dating app and set them up on a date with B without A’s knowledge.
49) B’s running an adoption event and A doesn’t even like animals but my God, is B so damn cute with them.
50) They're spies who have to pretend to be a couple for an assignment.
51) They’re professors who teach the same course but disagree over teaching methods.
52) A is B’s friend's asshole boss and B is just trying to drop off C’s lunch without strangling A.
53) A’s a witch who run a shop. B barges in, asking about the best curse to give someone (without killing them of course).
54) A is a hairdresser at a fancy salon and B shouldn't be spending $150 on a haircut but they need to talk to A.
55) A is a personal trainer and B is their client and A knows they need to keep it professional but it's really hard!
56) A is the photographer and B’s the caterer for the worst wedding ever.
57) It's the county Fair and A has lost their niece/nephew, so they ask B for help.
58) A is having a horrendous case of writer’s block, B works at the cafe A has been staying in for the past few days and is very concerned.
59) Hades and Persephone AU bc why not
60) A is a tattoo artist and it's B's first time getting a tattoo.
#writing#writing prompts#prompts#writeblr#fluffy prompts#meet cute#meet cutes#first meeting#love prompts#writing prompt#fic prompt#dialogue prompt#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writers and poets#writings#romance#romance prompts#fluff prompts#fluff#my writing
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Beast of a Man
Smut!Tarzan
Synopsis: You were on an expedition with a team to investigate ape behavior. After setting off a booby-trap accidentally, it's not your team that finds you, but an ape-like man. Is he the missing link anthropologists have been looking for? You need to take him back to camp, and you're thinking of luring him in by more than one way.
A/N: I dont give a fuck if this movie is older than me this man is HOT no one talks about him and im SICK of it.
3.9k words
You take a deep breath through your nose and exhale through your mouth. You were growing irritated. You were somewhere in West Africa sweating your balls off (if you had any) trying to follow where the shrewdness of apes went. They had a tendency to relocate to avoid predators, and they happened to the night you slept in.
You didn't bother asking your team to help you look. You all have been up doing your notes for your dissertation and you decided that they deserved some shut eye. You were tempted to ask the person who was guiding you through the jungles, but the language barrier made you decide not to. Too much work, but the apes couldn't have gone far right?
Since it was blazing, you decided to wear some white shorts and a tan button up shirt completed with a safari hat on top. You made sure your bag was packed with snacks and water before leaving. Of course, you also brought your hunting knife. You prayed it wouldn't be necessary to use, but being out in the open made you a prey to all sorts of things.
You started your journey, keeping close to the trail you were familiar with. You started East since that's where the sun rises, praying that they would be there. You weren't sure how long you walking for until you finally found a piece of ape hair. You gasp excitedly and bent down to grab it, you were getting close.
You wiped the sweat from your forearms and continued forward with new resolution. You were going to find the nest and since it's still early afternoon, you might even be able to see-
"Ahh!" you screamed. Something tightened around your foot and you went up in the air upside, hitting your head on the ground in the process. A pained groan left your lips as you opened your eyes. You were hanging upside down by one of your ankles.
"Aw shit..." you cursed, looking up to see your foot tangled in...vine? Your eyebrows furrowed, wouldn't it have been better to use rope? Maybe your team put this here as a trap, or maybe it was the locals to catch some animals. You felt stupid as you reached upwards to grab your foot and get yourself loose.
Which was much harder than you initially thought. It was too far for you too reach and when you did manage to grasp your ankle, pain would surge from your lower back to your neck as you continued to awkwardly bend your body. Your head was pounding, blood drumming your ears before you finally gave up. They'll find you, you just have to be patient.
"HELP!" You yelled, voice echoing in the trees. You started calling your team by names, then last names. You felt your eyes water in frustration, thinking about how stupid you were to travel alone.
Granted you couldn't be that far from the trail, maybe 6 miles. But you don't know how much longer you could stand being upside down. Then it hit you, your knife! A sound of relief escaped you as your reached behind your back to grab your knife. Only your bag wasn't there. It must've flown off when you were thrusted into the air because it was 20 feet away from you on the ground.
Now you were going to really cry. No, that won't help, you think, I just need to keep yelling, but should you? Here you are alone in the jungle, making all these noises. What if you attract a predator. The thought makes you stop.
You take deep breaths as a way to keep your cool. You'll be fine, they'll find you, you just need to wa- a crunch distracts your thoughts. Your eyes try to find from where the sound came from, turning your head frantically around.
"Hello?" You call, gentle. You're not sure if it's your people, but from the lack of response you doubt it is. The crunching gets faster and louder, you hold your breath in and prepare for an animals to jump our and devour you.
Instead, a man emerges from bushes, a naked man. Almost naked, save for the piece of cloth that wraps around his waist. You narrow your eyes, unable to comprehend what you're seeing. He doesn't look like he natives that live here. The main thing to give it away is the way he walks, or more like knuckle-walking. He scoots closer to your, eyes intensely staring at you. He quadrupedaly walks to you, and you scream.
He wildly moves back, hooting as a response. You thrash around, fear bubbling in your stomach. "No! Fuck off! Go away!"
He knuckle-walks around you, inspecting to see if you're an actual threat. You're not of course, you're tied and on the verge of fainting from being upside for so long. It doesn't take long for the ape-man to realize it and come within 3 inches of your face. You stop moving and stare into his eyes. He's actually... beautiful. Looking past the dirt on his body and his tangled hair, he had a strong jaw and a large nose with a bump at the bridge. He had high cheekbones, thick eyebrows, and deep eyes. Not to mention he was staring at you in the same way, only 100x more intense. He was looking at you like you're the only woman he's ever seen, maybe the only person he's ever seen period.
His hand reaches to touch your face, his fingers gently play with your features. Starting with the nose, eyes, eyelashes, ears, then your lips. He touches his own afterwards as if comparing them. He grunts to himself as if he's talking outloud.
His hands get more explosive, moving to your neck. His hands keep traveling until they feel your breasts, he stops. He feels his own chest and a look of confusion crosses his face. When he goes back to feel your body, you thrash.
"No!"
Your stern voice makes him take a step back, but he knows you're not a real threat. He moves back to his original place and touches your top, playing with the buttons. Sweat starts to drips off your neck to the ground, you don't know how much longer you can stand this position.
His hands discover that you can unbutton these little circles, and that's exactly was he does. He doesn't even notice the bra that holds your tits, his focus completely on the shirt. When he does, his hands take no shame in touching some more.
His touch is so gentle that you instinctively puff your chest closer to him. His fingertips travel from one breast to the other, not knowing your bra can also come off.
Wait, why are you thinking about him taking off your bra? You don't know this man, if he even is a man. But the way he touches you is addicting. You love the softness of it, how he touches you as if you're the most fragile thing on this Earth.
You gently use your hands to grasp his, he jumps at the contact and look back at your eyes. You guide him to the inside of your bra, having your tits spill out. His eyes widen is surprise, as if he's never seen such a complicated contraption. He looks at his chest quickly and back at yours. He starts grabbing them and kneading them, enjoying the softness you have.
He grunts in what seems like approval. He sees you nipples harden from his touches and he pinches them. You moan in response, though you think you're just groaning from pain. You're going to blame your behavior on the lack of blood supply in your brain, but right now the dampness in your underwear is more important.
You use your hands to take off the rest of your shirt and bra, completely topless to him. This man was so entranced by your body that you have to use your hands to make him look at your face. You point to the vine that has you hostage.
"Help me down, and I'll help you," you don't even know if he can understand you, but he must because he climbs a nearby tree and loosens the knot. You fall with a thud and groan, finally feeling the extra blood leave your head.
The man climbs on top of you and looks into your eyes as if he's asking something. You nod, already knowing what he wants. You guide the back of his head back to your tits and he gratefully pops a nipple in his mouth. His hands are on either side of you, possessively keeping you under him. Your hands tangle in his hair and he continues to suck.
You hum and squeeze your legs together, wetness gathering between your legs. He releases your boob with the small pop! and goes to the other side, letting his tongue roll over your nipple. You use your hand to grab his, placing it on your other boob. He gets the message and starts massaging your boob while keeping the other in his mouth.
You moan and grind your body against his, trying to get some friction. The need in your pussy is almost unbearable, you want it to to touched, paid attention to, but you hold back. You don't want to make a decision you would regret, but you're not sure if anything you're doing is helping with that.
He suddenly stops, a whine leaving your lips when he does. He closes his eyes and inhales, looking all over your body. His smells different parts of your body, shoving his nose between your breasts.
"What?" You ask, suddenly self-conscious. The beast of a man travels down you stomach, down your navel, occasionally sticking his tongue out to taste you. Then he stops at your shorts, eyes looking into yours.
He puts his attention back onto your clothes, attempting to take them off himself. He sees the familiar button on the top of your shorts and decides he should start there. You're amazed at his intelligence. He may not be verbal, but he has amazing innovative and cognitive ability.
Your thoughts are pulled away as he manages to do the same to your shorts. He tugs them all the way down to you ankles and stares at the spot he's been aching to devour. You know you must not have the best taste considering how much you were sweating but 30 minutes prior, but this man couldn't care less. He leaned down to your core and took a deep breath, groaning as he did. His hands gripped your thighs and he squeezed them. You whimpered at his touch, opening your legs to give him better access to your pussy.
You were soaking, you could feel you essence dripping down to your body and the way you're underwear felt cold against the wind. The ape-man went it, licking your wetness and widening your legs even more. He bent your legs forwards, folding your back so you knees were almost touching your face.
You squealed at the movement never being in this position. It was pretty uncomfortable, but the way his hands held your legs by your under thighs made your stomach coil in anticipation. He used his tongue more than anything, not knowing that he could so much more.
He used his muscle to collect the remaining drool your pussy produced, trying to find the source. He was beginning to get irritated, but little did he know that your underwear was covering his desire. A part of you loved watching him struggle, but the need for him directly on you was stronger. You reached your arms around your hips and moved your underwear to the side, using your thumb to rub yourself in circles.
You tapped your pussy, making sure it made wet noises to get his attention. "Here, do it here."
The man stopped for a second, bewitched by the sight of your dripping folds and pulsing pussy. He had never seen anything like it, like a rare cuisine he was lucky enough to stumble upon. He experimentally stuck his tongue out to taste you. You hummed in satisfaction and used your fingers to spread yourself. He let your taste settle on his tastebuds, licking his lips hungrily as he decided that this was the best meal he was ever going to have.
He pushed your legs further back and buried his face into you. You moaned as his tongue shot out all over your pussy, smearing both of you juices all around. The ape man moved his face up and down against you, his large nose occasionally touching the bud of your clit.
You squirmed when he did and he noticed your behavior. He moved his tongue up to flick your bundle of nerves and you jolted. An intrigued smile found his lips as he continued his movements. It was too much, you were too sensitive and you instinctively yanked on his hair to pull him away.
You moaned in relief, but the man above you was anything but. He grabbed your hands held them down to your sides, using his chest and face to keep you in your bent position. As if to show you that he wasn't happy with your action, he ate you out brutally. He used his teeth to gently scape against your clitoris, a move he shortly found out gave him the best response.
"No no it's too much! Stop im sorry im sorry!" You cry. You pleas fell on deaf ears. He sucked hard on your bud, stretching it as he pulled away. A loud cry left out lips and he finally stopped to look at you. Your legs were shaking, sweat all over your body, back aching, and tears falling.
He gently let your legs fall so you were flat on the ground. A small sob and thank you left you as your legs closed together. The man closely looked at your face and licked your tears away, an apology. His hands soothingly went through your hair with a look of slight worry on his face.
He had such an intense gaze, you thought he would kiss you if he knew how. You sat up and put your hands on his chest, having him lay on the ground this time. Your eyes found the tent that formed in his patch of cloth. You smiled and had your hands explore his chest. He eyes you warily, not used to being under anyone or anything.
A devious smile played on your lips as you leaned down and kissed his ear, "My turn."
You sat back up and scooted down so you could place yourself between his legs, eagerly lifting off his little wrap so you could see his glory. Your eyes widened at his cock. He was so thick, veins wrapping around his length. The tip was a pretty pink, a sharp contrast to his tanned dick. You felt you mouth salivate at him and you leaned down to place a kiss on his tip.
He groaned, thrusting his hips up to feel you more. You playfully tsked and shook your head, "So impatient."
You got on all fours to be face-to-face with him, hands playing his thighs. You kissed over his pelvis, his bush, his inner thighs, anywhere besides the one place where he wanted you most. His hands went outwards besides him to grasp onto the ground beneath him. You could tell from the way he was straining and groaning, he was holding back from grasping your head. You blushed at his consideration, he's kind of a gentleman.
You decide to thank him by finally taking him into your mouth, making sure your tongue covers his slit and slowly bobbing your head up and down. He thanks you by whining, a sound that's going to forever imprint in your brain. You use one hand to keep on his stomach and the other to wrap around his shaft. You worked in one fluid motion, tasting his salty pre-cum and feeling you spit dribble out of your mouth onto your hand.
You really wanted to test your limits to see how far you could take him, but know with his girth that would be difficult. You still decided to try anyway, moving your hand to play with his balls and pulling your mouth out. He huffed in protest and looked up at you, eyes hazy.
You made sure to gather enough spit and drool over his cock. You relaxed your jaw and went back in. You took a deep breath through your nose and keep sliding down. You gagged when his tip hit you throat, but he still more than halfway to go. You closed your eyes and willed your head forward, mouth opening almost painfully.
Your pussy throbbed in excitement, imagining that it was getting stretched out instead of your mouth. The man beneath you broke, hands grasping the sides of your head and shoving you down. You violently gagged around him, eyes pooling with tears. Your nose tickled his bushy pelvis. You looked up at him to plead to let you go, but seeing your begging eyes and cock covered mouth did the opposite to him. He used your mouth as a cock sleeve, harshly dragging your lips up and down his length.
Your hands gripped his thighs, he was going so hard and fast you started thinking you were going to throw up. You eyes rolled to the back of your head you felt your pussy drip down your thighs. You've never been used by this, and you never wanted it to stop. You could probably just cum from giving him head, but your need for air was starting to get the better of you.
It took both of your hands to rip away one of his before you finally popped your mouth off his dick, gasping and coughing for air. The ape-man sat up, finally recognizing that you were on the verge of passing out. He brushed the air out your face and cradled your face into his hands. He watched as you steadied your breath, holding you close to him.
Never had a man treated you with such care and such disregard at the same time, it went straight to your aching core. You adjusted so you were straddling his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He wasn't sure what you were doing, but when he felt your folds grind against his cock he knew what you wanted.
You grabbed the base of cock, moved your underwear to the side, and smeared hit tip over your clit. Both of you hummed in unison, his grip tightening on your hips. You moved your legs so you were in a squatting position, preparing yourself to take him in.
He patiently waited as you dipped the tip of dick cock into your pussy, shivers enveloping your body. His face twisted in unfamiliar pleasure, teeth gritting. You put more of your weight on him, sinking more and more onto his cock before you finally felt him fully in your gut. Your eyes rolled back placed your head in the crook of his neck breathless. Once you adjusted, you softly bounced on him, feeling his teeth and tongue get a feel of you exposed neck and ear. He growled approvingly once you started moving more aggressively.
One of his large hands went into your scalp, yanking your hair back to bare your throat at him. A part of you grew scared, but the way he was drooling out of the corner of his lip made you bounce with more determination. He bit the base of your throat making you cry out, then licked it apologetically. He didn't know that his nips at your neck distracted you, so when you slowed your movements down he grew upset. Taking matter into his own hands, he grabbed your ass and slammed you down hard.
You yelped, picking your head up as you looked into his eyes. He has a certain glaze over his eyes, as if he wasn't really looking at you. You leaned back to show a better view of where your bodies connected, his eyes immediately went there.
This must've been some encouragement for him because he started thrusting upwards too. The pleasure was too much, twisting your gut and providing a fiery sensation in your stomach. You whimpered and wrapped your arms around his neck for better support. You let him abuse your pussy, not caring about how he ripped your underwear off to properly see himself pound into you.
"Fuuuuuck," you moaned, "you feel so good." He had no reaction to your words, but you didn't care. He was going to bruise your hips form how hard he was holding you, but you were so close to finishing that none of that mattered.
You used one of your hands to rub your clit, attempting to finish faster. Your whines got louder and more frequent, he did the same. You tried not being loud, but you almost screamed when you came. He felt the way your walls squeezed around him and how your juices flowed out. He watched as your body nearly went limp, putting all your weight against him.
He took his opportunity to slam his cock all the way down into you until you could feel him kiss your cervix. You don't know if the noises you were making could count as moaning, but he frankly couldn't give less of a shit.
Finally, you felt the sweet warmth of his orgasm filling you up. You squeezed around him again and he moaned, wrapping his arms around your torso to make sure you didn't move from him. He couldn't stop leaking inside you as you felt some of it dribble out and possible drip down his balls.
You could tell he didn't want to pull out, satisfied with letting his cock soften between your legs. The thought to let it happen was tempting, but you already let a strange man fuck and cum inside you. There had to be some morals left.
You lifted your head up from his neck and pushed away from him. He huffed in defiance, content with his current position. You untangled yourself form him and wobbled upwards, standing. He slowly got up and looked around as if he was looking for something. Then he crawled over to your torn underwear, grabbing and putting it up to his face. You laughed as he took a deep breath, inhaling your scent like he couldn't get enough.
Once you had your top on, you walked over to him and stuck your hand out for him to give it back. Rather than obeying he growled, not threateningly, but rather in resistance. You sighed and decided going comando would be your only option.
Then an idea popped into you mind. It would be such a waste to leave a man here who seemed to listen to almost your every word. Who you could mold into the perfect fuck. Plus, you needed to study apes anyway and he seemed like the perfect willing participant.
You squatted down to his level and gently ran your fingers through his long, tangled hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. Oh yeah, you think, a perfect candidate.
You gently tapped the underwear in his hands and his eyes shot back open into yours. "Ya know," you started, "I have more of those back at camp. Wanna see?"
a/n: part 2 here
#tarzan#tarzan of the apes#tarzan smut#smut#beast#beast smut#jungle smut#jungle#tarzan and his mate#tarzan x reader#tarzan 1999
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Lol! Well, if you insist.
I'm thinking I might do something about the mabari, because it's most similar to my modt recent actual dissertation topic and that gives me something to work off of.
(I know I’m yelling sorry l) YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD WRITE THAT FIC I WOULD ABSOLUTELY EAT IT UP PLEASE THATS SUCH A COOL IDEA!!!!!!!
Wait, which one??? Is this the academic essay idea??
Okay, but which subject should I pick? It's so hard to choose!
#mabari#dao#da2#dai#dragon age inquisition#dragon age origins#dragon age 2#academic#dissertation#citation#mhra style guide
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Do You Have Difficulties When Composing a Finance Dissertation? Our Guide will assist you in crafting the best possible finance dissertation and will show you how to get past common barriers when writing a finance dissertation. Tips Of our Expertise Will give you Quality Assurance as well as Well-Researched & Organised Dissertations.
#crafting the best possible finance dissertation#finance dissertation#Tips On Finance Dissertation#Guide on Finance Dissertation x#Help On Finance Dissertation#Finance Assignment Help
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Update on fanbinding dissertation: we now have textblocks!
The folded signatures spent the night in the makeshift press (under heavy books), looking very crisp, making me very happy. Ordered the missing supplies (cutting mat, knife, metal ruler, muslin instead of mull, a big sketchbook with black pages that will hopefully become endpapers) from HobbyCraft, because the bookbinding shops’ shipping fees are no joke. Waiting for that to arrive, I sewed the signatures together!
Used my wonky homemade cradle to punch the holes, following a guide I made out of whatever cardstock was in the recycling. Was originally debating the necessity of the awl, very happy I had it.


Sewed everything together following the instructions from How to Make A Book and this youtube video by DAS Bookbinding, which covers both French links and kettlestitches. As expected, sewing was really fun, very relaxing, and paired quite nicely with the ongoing supernatural rewatch.


Been trying to figure out how to add the title to the cover (I sadly don’t have the time/supplies to get into stamping / HTV / letterpress printing), and was inspired by this amazing bind by @celestial-sphere-press to try and do a half dust jacket thing, so I gave it a go while waiting for the last missing supplies, using a small hardback to see what it will hopefully look like. I like it a lot, but should probably find a white pen or pencil to draw with (didn't have anything paler than a yellow pencil on hand).



Next up: macgyvering a book press, glueing the spine, cutting the boards, sewing the headbands. Looking forward to three out of those four things.
#fanbinding dissertation#fanbinding#ficbinding#bookbinding#fanfiction#research#disser#fanbinding resources#autoethnography
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I honestly don't know what an AI ffs looks like. You don't have to call anyone out but can you tell us why you think smthing is made by AI?
Domistique's Subjective Guide to Identifying AI Fic in the F1 RPF Fandom
Summaries "In the high-octane world of Formula One," "In the high-stakes world of Formula One," "In the [insert descriptor] world of Formula One,"
My biggest "tell" for AI in summaries. It reads like a blurb for a published original novel. Summaries ending with a question framed with two 'options' also ring alarm bells for me now which SUCKS but the same structure is popping up so frequently alongside other indicators of AI that it's the natural conclusion :(.
Look at the establishing paragraphs.
I'm not a writer so I don't know the terminology, but the paragraphs which set the scene and describe the environment the characters are in. Do they always list elements of the setting in a uniform way which seems too formal for a fic? AI doesn't understand 'show, don't tell'. In my experience it tends to exposition the FUCK out of scenes. Fanfiction is built on the assumption that the reader KNOWS about this stuff already. I've seen this countless times across many fics from different authors which proves to Me it's not just someone's style. Establishing paragraphs starting with a descriptive statement, followed by multiple Example clauses listing sensory aspects of the environment. Usually ending with a picture perfect smartass line, often introducing a character or narrative element (tension, fear, attraction, etc) and creating intrigue. ALL THINGS WHICH ARE NORMAL AND GOOD TECHNIQUES IN FICS! but it's the way they KEEP popping up consistently keeping to the exact. same. paragraph structure.
An author posting multiple new 10,000+ word fics every week for many weeks.
If I suspect a fic is written with AI I usually check the account which posted it to see if they are producing an output which human beings are literally not capable of. If someone says they're working full time in the legal field they are not also writing a dissertation of rpf every three days :(.
Sentences with the same rhythm over and over and over again.
Like. "The wind had eased, the moon reflecting like silver in the lake. The soft hum of the car grounded them, sitting there together on the peaceful shore." I just made that up and you can tell because it sucks BUT it is based on a pattern I keep seeing in fic which I suspect to be AI. ONLY when the other indicators are present. Take this one with a grain of salt because it is mainly vibes-based.
This is mostly only applicable when a fic is written in English :(. I think the ability to tell when something is subtly off with a piece of writing is probably linked to the length of time the reader has been immersed in reading in the language, exposure, etc.
I recommend paying attention to your favourite authors' style, quirks, tendencies; the things which are constant across their works and feel comforting and familiar because you know you're in good hands. Then apply that to AI, which in my opinion has a particular style which it ALWAYS follows when prompted to write fanfic. It knows how to create a plot and make it compelling, even emotional, but it doesn't know how to deviate from the formula (yet). It has improved SO much since the first AI fics started popping up. But I really think it will never be completely indistinguishable from the work of a human because humans are loving and caring and silly and take risks and spend their free time writing stories for us to enjoy for no personal gain. No matter the quality of the writing!!! We as readers owe it to them to read critically and attentively and honour their efforts by rewarding them, not a machine.
(biggest disclaimer ever: i am not an expert this is all based on my observations and i may be wrong. if you don't like someone's sentences don't assume they used AI. it's a sense that had to be honed over time and i will be distraught if some poor writer gets harassed because of this so help me god. just. pay attention to patterns. i have many many examples which i am not including in this post because i don't feel comfortable when i can't be 100% sure they are the product of AI. i can dm them if you want!!)
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