#if you have access to a university library especially!!!!!!!!!

[sometipsygnostalgic]

The best system to play Gameboy games on is... well... you can play them on many devices.

Officially it would be GBA SP because it can run Gameboy and GB Colour games.

However, very few backlit SPs were ever released (they are frontlit). So a better unit for Gameboy Advance games might be the DS Lite, which universally is backlit and which is lightweight enough to not cause problems. It also has better ergonomics than the SP, but I am bugged by the black borders and empty second screen.

A really popular mod is called the "Gameboy Macro", which is when you take a DS Lite lower screen and use it solely as a gameboy advance. It is a great way to recycle DS units with a broken top screen, a common issue, though it makes me cringe to think some people modify perfectly fine units this way.

The Lite also has issues with the cartridge sticking out the bottom, so many prefer using the "phat" for this purpose. The original DS is both frontlit and backlit for some reason. The image is still an improvement on frontlit SPs.

The best units to play DS and 3DS games on are... the DS and 3DS.

Specifically the best place for NDS games is the DSi XL. No non-DS device has the touchscreen versatility to run DS games well, and it's very awkward scaling the tiny screen on an emulator.

The 3DS is also not a great place for DS games. The 3DS top parallax screen is incapable of a 1:1 pixel ratio even in pixel-perfect mode, which already has the issue of black borders around the screens, making touch-based games more finicky.

It is especially apparent on the XL models but is also an issue on the smaller 3ds models.

The best unit to play DS games on is the DSi XL. It has a backlit screen and more power and memory than the first two units, making loading faster. It doesn't have the scaling issues of the 3ds, as it doesn't need to do any upscaling at all - the XL has the same number of pixels as a normal DS.

I've never used a DSi XL because all the ones sold in the UK are these ugly beige colours and they never took off, but if you don't mind the loss of the GBA slot, it's the best device for DS games.

Unfortunately DSis seem to be plagued by yellowing screens. I can tell you the small unit I just bought has some very slight yellowing on both screens.

What's the best way to play 3ds games? Well, on a 3ds obviously. It's even harder to accurately emulate 3ds games than DS games, and you lose the 3d effects altogether.

But which 3ds is best?

It depends on what you want. The 3ds more than any other Nintendo system besides the Gameboy is heavily based on preference instead of objective superiority.

To get it out the way first, while the original 3ds has the sleekest look, it's the worst one. The original 3ds and 3dsXL have a much worse 3D implementation, relying on you to stare at the screen at an odd angle.

Not only does the New3ds fix the 3d with an eye tracking sensor, it also has more power again, and a "c-stick". I also think the screens on the New3ds are of a higher quality and run flat games better too.

However the New3dsXL has some downgrades. The SD card is replaced with a microSD but now requires a mini screwdriver to access, removing the back plate. The stylus is also a really tiny one like on the DS, in an awkward place, and the metallic skin on the console will decay very quickly with use. My New3DSXL's skin started peeling under my hands after just six months of use.

The New3DSXL is the best unit to play 3ds games if you are looking to have all the features at their most optimal. It is the best by far for playing in 3d. It can also run the DS library fine, if in a poor image quality.

Personally I prefer the XL, the larger size is easier on the eyes, though the customizable panels on the hard-to-find normal size New3ds are cute too.

If you don't care for 3d, the Wedge and Doorstop may be for you.

The 2ds has all the features of a 3ds apart from the 3d, while in a wedge shape that looks dreadful but actually feels more ergonomic. It has similarities to the first Gameboy Advance and you can't tell you're holding something so tall.

The original 2DS is sold for much cheaper than the other units because Nintendo sold it for cheaper and nobody particularly wants one, so it's the most affordable way to try every game in the DS library, especially if you pair it with a jailbroken SD card. Unfortunately it still uses the 3ds screen, just with no 3d slider, so it still upscales DS games and doesn't have perfect rendering of 3ds games either, but it's harder to tell as the screen's tiny.

The New 2ds XL was the last DS ever sold, it came out after Switch. A lot of cute variants of the 2ds XL exist, and most games coming out around its release didn't have 3d enabled anyway. The feature had died in popularity, so while a 2d 3ds was originally scoffed at, in 2017 it just made sense.

While the New2ds XL looks fancy in a distance, the ergonomics are worse than any 3ds, and far worse than the wedge 2ds. The New2dsXL is all style and no substance, with the speakers being covered by the user's hands, and it's made out of a flimsy plastic. It's clear Nintendo made the materials for the hull cheaper and cheaper over time, so by the end of the 3ds's life they had gone from a very premium-feeling device to cheap plastic. The Switch would follow this design philosophy.

I do salivate over that Pikachu version and I'd enjoy trying one, but my mind tells me it's not a great device.

All told, which do I think is better? Well I think the 3ds XL having the most features is inviting for me, and I have the choice of turning off 3D. However if you want bang for your buck, the 2ds wedge might be your safest option.

Unfortunately the New 2ds XL and New 3ds XL will cost you as much as a Nintendo Switch these days. It seems that sellers have wisened up to the demand from people who missed out on the 3ds and want to try it out. There's also talk of IPS screens being better and the New2ds XL, 3ds XL and DSi XL all use IPS screens, so people are scalping them or raising prices.

[lesbianyosano]

re that post about watching bsd and suddenly wanting to read 20+ books, for the love of god try reading something thats not no longer human or crime and punishment. tanizaki, natsume and akutagawa are considered to be one of japan's most influential writers for a reason and they can be 10 times easier and more accesible than dazai or dostoevsky. higuchi's stories too. please please please reach further than your favourite anime twink pleasee

[lacnunga]

In the wake of the IA situation, I've seen a lot more posts circulating about using your local library and I just. Sigh

[wilwheaton]

The GOP wonders why young people (and others) don't want to vote for them. Some wise scribe assembled this list.

1.) Your Reagan-era “trickle-down economics” strategy of tax breaks for billionaires that you continue to employ to this day has widened the gap between rich and poor so much that most of them will never be able to own a home, much less earn a living wage.

2.) You refuse to increase the federal minimum wage, which is still $7.25 an hour (since 2009). Even if it had just kept up with inflation, it would be $27 now. You’re forcing people of all ages but especially young people to work multiple jobs just to afford basic necessities.

3.) You fundamentally oppose and want to kill democracy; have done everything in your power to restrict access to the ballot box, particularly in areas with demographics that tend to vote Democratic (like young people and POC). You staged a fucking coup the last time you lost.

4.) You have abused your disproportionate senate control over the last three decades to pack the courts with religious extremists and idealogues, including SCOTUS—which has rolled back rights for women in ways that do nothing but kill more women and children and expand poverty.

5.) You refuse to enact common sense gun control laws to curb mass shootings like universal background checks and banning assault weapons; subjecting their entire generation to school shootings and drills that are traumatizing in and of themselves. You are owned by the NRA.

6.) You are unequivocally against combatting climate change to the extent that it’s as if you’ve made it your personal mission to ensure they inherit a planet that is beyond the point of no return in terms of remaining habitable for the human race beyond the next few generations.

7.) You oppose all programs that provide assistance to those who need it most. Your governors refused to expand Medicaid even during A PANDEMIC. You are against free school lunches, despite it being the only meal that millions of children can count on to actually receive each day

8.) You are banning books, defunding libraries, barring subject matter, and whitewashing history even more in a fascistic attempt to keep them ignorant of the systemic racism that this nation was literally founded upon and continues to this day in every action your party takes.

9.) You oppose universal healthcare and are still trying to repeal the ACA and rip healthcare from tens of millions of Americans and replace it with nothing. You are against lowering the cost of insulin and prescription drugs that millions need simply to LIVE/FUNCTION in society.

10.) You embrace white nationalists, Neo-Nazis, and other groups that are defined by their intractable racism, xenophobia, bigotry, and intolerance. You conspired with these groups on January 6th to try to overthrow the U.S. government via domestic terrorism that KILLED PEOPLE.

11.) You oppose every bill aimed at making life better for our nation’s youth; from education to extracurricular and financial/nutritional assistance programs. You say you want to “protect the children” while you elect/nominate pedophiles and attack trans youth and drag queens.

12.) You pretend to be offended by “anti-semitism” while literally supporting, electing, and speaking at events organized by Nazis. You pretend to hate “cancel culture” despite the fact that you invented it and it’s basically all you do.

13.) Every word you utter is a lie. You are the party of treason, hypocrisy, crime, and authoritarianism. You want to entrench rule by your aging minority because you know that you have nothing to offer young voters and they will never support you for all these reasons and more.

14.) You’re so hostile to even the notion of helping us overcome the mountain of debt that millions of us are forced to take on just to pay for our post K-12 education that you are suing to try to prevent a small fraction of us from getting even $10,000 in loan forgiveness.

15.) You opened the floodgates of money into politics via Citizens United; allowing our entire system of government to become a cesspool of corruption, crime, and greed. You are supposed to represent the American people whose taxes pay your salary but instead cater to rich donors.

16.) You respond to elected representatives standing in solidarity with their constituents to protest the ONGOING SLAUGHTER of children in schools via shootings by EXPELLING THEM FROM OFFICE & respond to your lack of popularity among young people by trying to raise the voting age.

17.) You impeach Democratic presidents over lying about a BJ but refuse to impeach (then vote twice to acquit) a guy whose entire “administration” was an international crime syndicate being run out of the WH who incited an insurrection to have you killed.

18.) You steal Supreme Court seats from democrats to prevent the only black POTUS we’ve ever had from appointing one and invent fake precedents that you later ignore all to take fundamental rights from Americans; and even your “legitimate” appointments consist of people like THIS (sub-thread refuting CJ Roberts criticisms of people attacking SCOTUS' legitimacy).

19.) You support mass incarceration even for innocuous offenses or execution by cop for POC while doing nothing but protect rich white criminals who engage in such things as tax fraud, money laundering, sex trafficking, rape/sexual assault, falsifying business records, etc.

20.) You are the reason we can’t pass:—Universal background checks—An assault weapons ban—The ‘For the People/Freedom to vote’ Act or John Lewis Voting Rights Act—The ERA & Equality Act—The Climate Action Now Act—The (Stopping) Violence Against Women Act—SCOTUS expansion.

21.) You do not seek office to govern, represent, or serve the American people. You seek power solely for its own sake so you can impose your narrow-minded puritanical will on others at the expense of their most fundamental rights and freedoms like voting and bodily autonomy.

22.) Ok, last one. You are trying to eliminate social security and Medicare that tens of millions of our parents rely on and paid into their entire lives. And you did everything to maximize preventable deaths from COVID leaving millions of us in mourning.

Source: https://imgur.com/gallery/e8DBZLH

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Turning 30

The Great shift was a huge time in many people’s lives. Especially those with birthdays who fell around the time of the great shift. Some turning 18, others turning 80! But still others had their hearts set on a time in their life that was quite pivotal. However, because of the shift some may have to wait a little longer to reach that milestone, while others have jumped leaps and bounds beyond it!

Harvey Singh (30 years old)

Fuuuck my head… and my clothes apparently. Damn. This is not what I imagined turning 30 would be like! 

Before the world went insane, I was so close! The damn great shift just had to happen right before my birthday. I was working at this law firm, a pretty shady place at first. Lots of scummy people taking advantage of others, but my boss was trying to turn it around! We kicked out those idiots who were causing trouble, got them arrested! I was gonna get promoted and help lead the charge for helping others… but not anymore.

The great shift landed me inside of Skyler Marlo! 18 year old quarterback for the local university. And right after a big party too. I couldn’t find a stitch of clothes to fit my new larger body. I was really lucky this frat house I woke up in had a towel nearby. But that was just the beginning of my nightmare. 

You see that smile of distress? Yeah that’s me. Instead of writing briefs and taking on clients in need, I’m here on the football field. Apparently after the upheaval the shift caused people are having trouble verifying identities and gaining access to their property/funds. That’s totally something I could be helping with! Instead I'm stuck back in the life of a teenager again. I wasn't a big fan of 18 last time I was in college.

The only thing that could get me after the shift was taking on this guy’s college scholarship. It gives me a place to stay and access to their college library, but I had to join the college football team. Some organizations like college athletics don’t seem to care who is shifted or not! As long as they got the players they need to draw in a crowd, they seemed perfectly content letting anyone play. Though who can blame them. If they saw me before I doubt they’d want some angry short king running their drills. No… now I’m not the 5’0 Indian guy who got overlooked in school. I look the picture of boy next door prom king that rules the college. 6’2, 195lbs of lean muscle, and size 15 feet. That last one took awhile to get used to! Finding cleats that size was the hardest part of this change. 

So here I am, sweating it out day after day to maintain my scholarship, while I wait for the day I’m recertified with my state’s bar! Once I’m a lawyer again I swear I’ll help out others like me forced to cling on to new lives while the system sorts things out. It sucks having to practice every day and do all these drills and grunt work! The college even has me posing for their promotional material to draw in bigger crowds at the game! Who would want this kind of life?!

Then again… it’s already been a few months… I may as well get used to college life… I was a nerdy brown kid my last run in college, mostly studying and doing what my parents wanted… now at least I can get a look at how the athletes lived… That frat did ask me if I wanted to join… I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a little fun while I wait to get my life back.

After all, I do get pretty excited after an intense practice, and judging by some of the looks from my teammates, I may not be the only one eager to get to know my new body better. 

Phil Inver (30 years old)

People need to learn how to relax. I don’t know what the big deal is. So a bunch of people swapped bodies. What’s there to worry about? See me? I don’t have a care in the world. When I was turning 30 doctors told me I was overweight and at risk of diabetes, my work would always be on me for not applying myself, and my girlfriend said I was always too lazy in our relationship! 

But my mindset since the shift hasn’t changed! It landed me in this nice smooth and lean body! I’m glad that this guy kept in such good shape. Having actual abs is insane! Same for these toned arms! I’m not sure if he’s the shaving kinda guy or if he’s naturally smooth, but it sure as hell beats taking care of an unruly beard and body hair!

Turns out now that I look like this people are a bit more receptive to my ideals! Doctors say my heart is as healthy as a horse! Says my stress free lifestyle is a large part of that! My work? They now say my chill attitude makes things a lot more zen around the office. Guess they don’t care I don’t get too much done whenever I flash them a smile. And my girlfriend… or my boyfriend as he goes by now, certainly thinks I’m taking an active role in the bedroom. Who knew that my new stud of a boyfriend had a thing for Asian guys!?

So what am I gonna do now? Listen to music, chill as my boyfriend showers, and wait out the day as normal. Sure I’m turning 30, but it’s just another day in paradise for me! Oh what’s that? This body is only 21? Even better! I’ve got plenty of time to relax before I turn 30.

Devon Lin (30 years old)

So I was a bit nervous about turning 30. I feel like I haven’t really done all the things I wanted… and all my friends were joking saying it’s all downhill after that. I wasn’t dealing the best with the stress… Well like it or not the shift had me face that hurdle a few year further than I expected.

And I gotta say. It’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Sure I’m a bit older, but hell  I look a hell of a lot more manly! Could it be that the shift landed me in a handsome 37 year old with a built body, tan skin,  and perfect beard? Maybe… but hey. Age is just a mindset… but these muscles sure aren’t! Boom!

You like that? So do the guys at the bar! They keep insisting I don’t shave my chest or pit hair too. I think I could pull off that look. That being said, I think anything looks good on a 6’5 stud like me. Tall, dark, and handsome all the way!

Before I would jump around from job to job. Bartender, janitor, waiter, and housekeeper, but lately I’ve found my job as a bouncer at the local bar a lot more rewarding. You’d be surprised how many fights stop once I take my shirt off and start playing pool with the patrons. I’ve won nearly every game of billiards I’ve played! Though I have the sneaking suspicion it may be due to the guys staring more at me than the balls.

Guess that’s one of the benefits to working at a chill gay bar! You know, I was always a bit insecure about my body and experimenting sexually. Being a shorter gay man with a chip on his shoulder would do that to you. Now… well let’s just say now I feel like I’ve got a lot more confidence! I may have missed my 30th birthday, but I think I know how I’m gonna spend my 38th!

Marcus Garcia (30 years old)

They say when you get older you begin to value things differently. Honestly I didn’t know what to expect when I turned 30. Was I supposed to be wiser all of a sudden? Have a plan for things? In truth plenty of people younger than me had their life together compared to me. Partners. Kids. A stable job. A house.

In short. I thought I had more time. But we don’t always get to choose how fast life comes at us. I mean look at me. Didn’t expect the shift to make me 55.

Losing 25 years of my life was definitely not the easiest. The great shift nearly tears the world apart and I’m running for my life looking like retirement is right around the corner. That first day was definitely a wake up call that I did not have the same stamina that I used to. In that opening week of the shift I was pretty much running on adrenaline and coffee wherever I could get it. I took lots of naps just to stay sane. 

As the days went on and society slowly readjusted to some version of normal, I began to actually have time to look at my body. I mean I was a pretty skinny guy before, my sister would always say I needed to workout more. But I guess all it took was 25 years of my life to finally get in shape. 

Not only that, but I’m admiring the body hair. This guy was a pretty hairy dude. The salt and pepper stubble had guys starting me daddy at the gay bars, while the chest hair was still dark like my eyebrows and made my impressive physique pop. 

My feet were pretty big too. Size 14! Twice as big as my old feet, but just as hard to find shoes my size. 

Needless to say there were highs and lows to my new life. Was I happy that i was 6’6 now? Sure! Loved being tall and nearly bonking my head on doorframes. Was I upset lots of my joints were sore and that I could only take my coffee black to avoid dairy and sugar? No… that sucked. I liked my sweet drinks and I missed not waking up in pain.

Omar LeRon was a guy that lived along my street. He was a single dad raising his 5 year old, all at the age of 45.

I later learned he had a few wild days in his early 40s that lead to Omar Jr. And now in his mid 20s again he’s glad he could be more present for his son! Even if his son is the same age as him now.

He told me all of this one day when we both left our house for a jog. He found that doing some running in his new body helped him vent some much needed energy from his body, while I needed to do something physical if I was to have any hope of maintaining healthy workout routines for mine! 

Needles to say he offered some words of wisdom growing up and it really helped put some things in perspective. Meanwhile, I gave him some tips about helping his son. Turns out all those years working at my aunt’s day care counted for something, even for post shifted kids!

Our conversations started as friendly advice and then grew into more! Talks became dates. Dates became moving in. Moving in became an engagement! Now a few years after the wedding I guess you truly can call me a daddy now. Jr. sure does. He’s doing great in school and is looking forward to next week when my sister is gonna watch him for the summer.

My husband and I are gonna take our first real vacation since the great shift! We’re looking forward to it! We’ll be celebrating Omar’s 30th birthday in his new body now! He keeps making jokes saying, “Well I’ve done it before. Nothing to it the second time around.” And “Well here I thought your 30th birthday was extreme. I doubt I could top that”

He also never stops teasing me about how he loves being married to an older man and that I’m not as young as I used to be. We know it’s all in good fun. I mean, I can still keep up with him in the bedroom, where it counts… as long as he gives me a few minutes to recover after. Young guys like him are insatiable. I’ll try to power through though. After all, you only turn “30” once.

[yeoldenews]

Hi! Where do you find all your news clippings, especially the Victorian ones? Currently I’ve been devouring every book I can get my hands on about Victorian era anything. But really I want to get a sense of the people, and I’d love to just browse through Victorian era letters/newspapers.

Thanks for any help or ideas!

While many historical newspapers are behind a paywall, there are still tons available for free online. Unfortunately they are scattered on lots of different sites so you sometimes have to dig a bit.

The largest single free online newspaper collection is Chronicling America, which is jointly run by National Endowment for the Humanities and the Library of Congress - however it only has American newspapers.

The National Library of Australia has a similar large online collection called Trove, and The National Library of New Zealand has Papers Past.

Most large universities or state historical societies have some sort of online newspaper collection, usually limited to their particular geographic area.

When I start a project focusing on a certain area my first google search is usually '[location] newspaper archives', just to see what pops up.

If you can't find what you're looking for on a free archive, try contacting your local public or university library! Many libraries have subscriptions to paid archival sites, some of which you can even access at home if you have a library card.

[pedrito-friskito]

disobedient - miguel o’hara x fem!reader (spidersona)

do you get off on disobeying me?

a/n: I regret fuck all folks. part 1 of 2 (no clue when part 2 will happen but it will). special shouts to @psychedelic-ink, @inklore, and @splendiferous-bitch for feeding my miguel obsession and being the best ❤️‍🔥

word count: 6.5k

warnings: oh mama. sex pollen, unprotected p-in-v, rough sex, desperate miguel, multiple orgasms, in a shocking twist a whole lotta exposition cuz I gotta make the fucking make sense, y’know?

✨@friskito-library for new works✨

You’re not supposed to do this.

You’re not supposed to be here, period, but the notion hasn’t stopped you thus far. It’s just gonna make him more pissed off than he normally is, but pissing Miguel O’Hara off has quickly climbed to the top of your list of talents, and you’re content to continue doing as you please.

Especially if it means he’ll keep glowering at you with those eyes of his.

+

It threw you off initially — him, in general. Unfairly large, all rippling muscle and too-tiny waist, the hip-to-shoulder ratio of a Dorito chip and retractable claws you’ve seen more than once now. Not to mention an ass that looks like it was sculpted by a god. But it was the eyes that caught your attention, when you caught him glowering at you from a shadowy corner, like a predator hunting its prey.

“You gonna keep gawking,” you’d asked, “or come say hello like a normal person?”

Neither of you fit that category — normal people, boring — and he’d ignored your quip, actually growling at you as he stalked out of the shadows and brushed past you, bumping your shoulder in the process, and your brow had lifted at the way his suit seemed to ripple with the impact, forming and reforming against his skin. You saw it all, thanks to your spider-tacular vision, and your next thought after I want to sink my teeth into that ass, was I need to get my hands on that fabric.

Six months later, and no dice. You’ve been bouncing between Earth 928 and whatever dimension suits your fancy since Miguel first brought you here. How you convinced him to hand over one of his fancy bracelets, you’ll never truly know, but you have a distinct feeling the nature of your first meeting was what prompted him to give you access to the multi-verse — along with a slew of rules you more often than not turned your nose up at.

It also probably has something to do with the fact that you didn’t leave Nueva York for the first month. You holed up in the room he provided, ate the food he left by the door, and slept your days away, ignoring the too-bright world outside the windows, content to waste away to nothing. You couldn’t go home, what did it matter anyway?

Enter Miguel O’Hara and his incredibly bite-able ass.

When he first found you on the rooftop, cornered you near the fire escape, you’d gone snarky, despite the rumble in your bones, the betrayal that had cut you to the core, the looming fact that shit had just hit the fan and nothing was ever going to be the same again. 

And then Mister Grumpy steps through a fucking portal and tells you he can save you. He can’t fix what happened, but he can take you somewhere they won’t find you again, a haven of sorts. For a moment, you reeled — how could you know for sure that you could trust him? You almost asked him as much, but then the blanket of realization swept over you: there was nothing left for you on Earth 374. The spider on his chest was clue enough that you were on the right track. Sure, his was bright red on dark blue, whereas your own was navy against slate grey, but the similarities were close enough, namely the giant fucking spider.

The door to the rooftop had jiggled and Miguel swept a hand out, shooting webbing at the handle, keeping it shut. “Clock’s ticking, princesa,” he told you, the nickname said almost tauntingly. “Offer’s about to expire.”

You knew there had to be other spider-people out there in the universe, you just hadn’t imagined them to be so…large.

Or demanding, you’d learn later. Or asshole-ish. Sigh.

“Get me the fuck outta here,” you answered, and that was that. You were standing in his lab in Nueva York a moment later, and the jolt of multi-dimensional travel had you puking your guts all over the glossy floor. Faintly, you’d heard Miguel’s grunt of disdain.

“Lyla, get someone to clean this up,” he said, and his hand curled around your arm a moment later, hauling you to your feet like a rag doll. “You’ll get used to it,” he told you. “The jumping. I did the same thing after my first time.”

You were too out of it to know if he was actually being nice, or if the subtle lift to the corner of his mouth was just amusement at your expense.

“Yeah, well, warn a girl next time, would you?”

But you did get used to it. Once you managed to get your ass out of bed and back into your suit, you were soon away from the Spider Society more than you were there. For the first couple weeks, Miguel hadn’t said a word, apparently content to let you go where you pleased, barely questioning you when you deigned to return. Then, it was like a switch was flipped, and he was up your ass — and not in a fun, sexy way. He wanted reports on each of your jumps, timelines and activity breakdowns. He wanted lists of targets, reasons behind them, background checks. All things you knew he could easily get himself, but you also didn’t have the guts to tell him that since he’d saved you from Earth 374, you hadn’t actually…helped…anyone.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Your first solo jump you’d managed to find a few bank robberies and a mugging happening within a few blocks of each other. Clearly, you’d picked a gem of a universe, and while you’d managed to web up the bandits in the vault, something in you had frozen when you tried to track down the mugger. The scene unfolded on the street below and you just…shut down.

The rest of your trips were spent just exploring. You swung your way through cities, camped out on rooftops, just watching the normal people go about their lives down below. You noted the differences between that universe and your own, tried to remember where all the puzzle pieces fit, even though you were looking at a different picture.

And it’s that curiosity, that quiet desperation to know more, that has you padding out of your room in the Spider Society tower, overriding the elevator that’ll take you up to Miguel’s lab. His currently empty lab. The man himself has been away on a scouting mission for nearly forty-eight hours, and you’re not expecting him back for another twenty-four, which gives you more than enough time to satisfy that annoying voice in the back of your head that wants to know how they’re doing.

It’s late. The world outside the tower is dark, the sky an inky black, streaked with light shades, dotted with stars. You’d be a fool not to find Earth 928 and Nueva York beautiful in their own strange, overly modern ways, but even six months in, it’s hard to think of it as home.

But you know why. It’s because it’s not. 

You’d lasted a few days before you started glitching, and being cooped up in your room, you assumed you’d be able to hide it from Miguel. Part of you feared that if he knew something was wrong with you, he’d send you back to 374, and then what would happen to you?

You went to sleep worrying it over in your mind, and woke up to a complicated-looking watch sitting on the nightstand beside your bed. A hastily scrawled note stuck to it.

Put it on. It’ll help.

As soon as you did, the device beeped to life, a holographic screen jumping up, telling you the date and time and a myriad of other pieces of information. And then—

“Hiya, toots! I’m Lyla.”

You were confused as hell by the AI at first, but you quickly realized how useful she was, even more knowledgeable than Miguel, not that she’d ever admit it. And, in all honesty, you were a fan of the gab sessions. When Miguel wasn’t working her overtime, she’d beep her way through your watch for a good chat, perch herself on your pillow in the days you were still a shut-in, and when you started to make your way through the multi-verse, she was quick to point out the must-sees wherever you were.

She ran out quickly when she realized you were visiting the same place, just a different universe.

+

The doors to Miguel’s lab whoosh open at your approach, bare feet padding along the glass floor, and as you pause, getting yourself a cup of coffee from the forever-full carafe he keeps far away from the supercomputer, your watch pings to life, and the AI herself glitters into existence.

“What d’you think you’re doing?”

You ignore her at first, fixing your coffee the way you like it, flicking the stir stick into the trash before bringing the cup to your lips. It’s not until you start toward the computer and the large platform that houses it, that you answer her.

“Nothin’.”

She groans. “That’s a load of shit and we both know it.”

“He’s not here,” you say, shrugging a shoulder as you step onto the platform. The screens hum to life as you drag one hand across the infrared keyboard and when you glance over your shoulder, Lyla’s staring at you over the top of her heart-shaped glasses. “What he won’t know won’t hurt him.”

“And you really think doing exactly what he told you not to do is the best idea?”

You sigh, sipping your coffee as you sink into the chair, rolling yourself close to the computers. Miguel rarely uses the chair, apparently content to just stand and stare all broodingly at the screens. You only watched him — caught him — do this once, but when you caught on to what was happening, you filed the information away. He’d given you hell for snooping around, though you teased that he was just pissed you’d managed to sneak up on him, and according to Lyla, nobody does that.

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you pause. He did tell you, rather specifically, not to do what you’re about to do. He didn’t tell you why, wouldn’t give an inch when you pressed him, but he was firm.

No good will come of it.

+

Earth 473. Not an identical twin to your home universe, but a very close sibling. The differences were so small, so scarce, that you truly thought you’d stumbled back to 374 accidentally, and you’d nearly jumped back to Nueva York, heart in your throat. But then something caught your eye, and you froze.

Across the way, teetering at the edge of the rooftop, was Spider-Man.

His suit was the opposite of yours, the spider grey and the suit navy. You could feel him staring right back at you, even at the distance, and as you stared back, he lifted his hand. For a moment you thought he might wave, your own fingers twitching to return the gesture, but then it continued up, gripping the back of his mask and yanking it from his bed.

You saw his mouth form the words, heard them like a whisper in the air.

“You’re alive.”

Your frozen heart dropped into your toes.

It was Peter. Your Peter, the one you’d left behind on Earth 374, your best friend, the one who…who…

You didn’t have it in you to finish the thought. It was all the evidence you needed to know that this universe was not yours. You were the only Spider-Person on 374, and your Peter wasn’t…he couldn’t…

You’d stumbled backward, blindly grabbing for your watch, suddenly desperate to be back in the SS tower. But then you paused, your fingers twitching on the dials and digits.

And you almost went exactly where you weren’t supposed to. Like a reflex. Shaking yourself, you punched in 928, everything in you twisting and turning as you stepped through the portal.

Miguel was waiting. He’d been watching you, paying close attention to that particular jump, and had used the link through your watch to see what you saw. The opposite-but-mirror image on the rooftop.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice low, that deep timbre that still managed to catch you off guard. “The multi-verse doesn’t work that way.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” you spat back, shrugging off his hand when he tried to grab your arm. “You have no idea what I’m feeling.”

His face had gone feral. Those carmine eyes flaring, staring down his nose at you while you just stared right back, defiant. You went to step past him, and he caught you again, this time his longer fingers wrapping around your forearm, the tell-tale prick of his talons biting through your suit.

“I know a fuck load more than you seem to think,” he snarled, dragging you close to he was in your face. “In case you forgot, I’ve been at this a hell of a lot longer than you have, and what you saw out there, what it means to you, I know exactly where your mind went. And I am telling you: the multi-verse does not work like that.”

“What am I thinking?” you spat back, ignoring the pinpricks of pain that shot through your arm as you got even closer, leaning up on your toes. “If you’re so fucking knowledgeable, tell me.”

He released you, then. The pain in your arm dissipated as quickly as it had come, and his eyes went…soft. Thoughtful.

Sympathetic.

“You’re thinking,” he started, inhaling deeply, rubbing two fingers between his brows as he spoke, “that you could go back there, to 473, and make a life for yourself. The same family, the same friends, the same life. They lost their version of you, so why not fill her shoes? Find some semi-logical explanation, hide your powers, live your life. Am I close?”

You almost stumbled backward, the truth of his words sending you reeling. You bumped into his desk instead, knocking a cup of coffee over, and neither of you said a word as the dark liquid spread across the desktop, dripping off the edge and onto the floor.

Miguel took a half-step toward you, then turned slightly, looking over the curve of his shoulder at you. Something in you longed to press your forehead against his frame, search for some kind of support, but you stayed stuck still.

“I know,” he continued, turning his head, staring straight ahead, “because I did exactly the same thing. And I lost everything.”

+

His words echo through your mind now, the deep tone you’ve gotten very familiar with, and you shake your head, clearing away the cobwebs he’s left in your head. “This is different,” you say aloud, partially to Lyla, partially to yourself. “I’m not going there, I’m just…checking in.”

The AI rolls her eyes at you and snaps her gum. “I said it once and I’ll say it again: load of shit.”

Your fingers fly over the keyboard, typing in the codes to find what you’re looking for. You haven’t been back to 473 since that jump; Miguel had forbade it after your spat, and even went so far as to block your watch from taking you there. You thought he was being unreasonable, and he reiterated that he was actually trying to keep you safe.

No good will come of it.

You hit the final key, and the images start to fade in. You can just barely make out the shape of her — of you — when the screens go black. Your breath catches in your throat as a large hand comes down on your shoulder, gripping tightly, though you don’t feel the pricks of his talons.

“Do you get off on disobeying me?”

The words are almost a purr, the opposite of the tone you’re expecting, and from the corner of your eye, you see Lyla blip from existence. It makes goosebumps rise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as he leans in, hot breath on your ear.

“If I make you cum, will that make you more obedient? Hm?”

“What the fu—” you start, trying to whirl around, but his grip on you is solid, warm palm following the curve of your shoulder until his fingers are wrapping themselves around your throat. It’s a welcome weight, sparks of electricity shooting down your limbs, your thighs rubbing together to relieve the instant pressure. “Mmm.”

His thumb presses down on your racing pulse, and you’re suddenly aware of how warm he is. He’s…too warm. But you have to admit, the way he’s holding you…it’s nice. Really nice.

“Miguel,” you start, trying to turn again, but he fits his face into the bare side of your neck, lips grazing the thin skin. “You’re not supposed to be back yet.”

“Mission went south,” he mumbles against you, his tongue darting past his lips and dragging along your skin. It makes your eyes roll back, but…

Where is this coming from?

He should be furious with you. He caught you red-handed, no questions about it. You weren’t expecting him to find you in the first place, but now that he has, you’re expecting a screaming match, toddler-level foot-stomping and possibly being thrown over his ridiculously large shoulder and being tossed into your room like a rag doll. Locked up like Rapunzel until you start listening to his brand of reasoning. You’re expecting a blowout.

You’re not expecting this.

He huffs in your ear as his lips graze the sensitive skin beneath it, his words spoken into the shell, tongue catching on your earring. “You smell delicious, cariño.”

The pet name makes you shiver. “Mig,” you say again, your hand covering his as his other arm wraps around your middle, pulling you back against his chest. “What are you doing?”

His heart is racing, so hard that you can feel the heavy thump of it against your spine. It’s too fast, even for him, you know that much. His fingers curl against your stomach, talons poking out and shredding your shirt to strips. You gasp as the fabric falls away.

“Miguel.” You make your voice as stern as possible. It’s not that you don’t want him to touch you like this, it just seems so sudden, so out of character, and you—

He wrenches himself away from you, the heady warmth of him suddenly gone, and you whirl, hand flying up to grip your neck as the sound of him crashing into the wall reaches your ears. His fingers are leaving indents in the metal, talons scratching deep, and you gulp as you realize you’re lucky he didn’t just accidentally slit your throat.

Whatever’s happening, he’s not himself.

“Mig,” you call, wiping your bloody hand on your sweats, crossing the distance he’s put between you. “Would you just talk t—”

“NO!” he roars, throwing a hand out in front of himself. You can see his large frame shake as he sinks down against the wall, long tears in the metal forming in his wake. “Keep your distance.”

Your brow lifts. “Says the man who was literally crawling up my ass three seconds ago.” You ignore him, taking another step, ignoring the way his words ring through your head. Do you get off on disobeying me?

Yeah…maybe you do. Just a little bit.

You crouch down low, getting on his level. “Mig, tell me what happened.”

“Don’t call me that,” he spits, staring you down for a moment before forcing his head to the side, an action that looks like it takes a lot of effort. “Just…go to your room, leave me be.”

“You telling me not to call you that just makes me wanna call you that more.” You shift onto your knees, inching a little closer. “I can’t leave you be, not when you just put a bunch of holes in the wall,” you lift your hand to your throat, where the scratches he left are already almost gone, “and almost in me. Tell me what happened.”

He tilts his head back against the wall, still turned away from you, one crimson eye looking your way. “Mierda, you’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes. “Like you didn’t know that already. Talk.”

“Earth 1365-7,” he starts, eyes fluttering shut. His eyelashes are unfair, you think to yourself, the way they fan out across his even more unfair cheekbones. “I ended up in their version of OSCORP, some testing centre. Different serums and gases and…they were trying to weaponize a kind of paralytic that’s found in certain spider venom.”

His tongue pokes out after he says the word venom, tracing the tips of his fangs, and you swallow hard.

Bite me, bite me, bite me.

You shake your head, silencing the thought.

“And you stopped them?” you prompt, when he doesn’t go further, instead inhaling deeply and scrubbing a hand down his face.

“I did,” he tells you, but there’s no trace of triumph in his voice or on his face. “But I stumbled into one of the other labs, and as soon as I did…” He trails off, body shifting against the floor, and it’s impossible to miss the ripple in his skin-tight suit, the way he props one knee up, blocking your view of his crotch. “It was some sort of plant that they’d been researching. The pollen, it raises a person’s heart rate, skyrockets it, and muddles their senses. If left untreated, it can kill them.”

You stare at him hard. “What’s the treatment, Miguel?”

“The side effects,” he continues, ignoring your question. “Heightened blood pressure, extremely sensitive skin, lowered inhibitions, and…”

“Mig, would you just tell me?”

“Arousal,” he finishes, and you freeze. “Intense arousal. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that, I just…The only way to treat it is to…”

He doesn’t say it out loud, but the implication is clear, along with the intense reminder of how he was pressed against you.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, shrugging a shoulder, trying like hell to look non-committal, like your skin isn’t still tingling in all the places he touched you. “Lowered inhibitions, like you said.”

He doesn’t say anything so much as hum in response, his head lolling to the side again. His eyes are fire when they open again, landing on you and pinning you in place. It makes your breath hitch again, palms lowering to rest on your thighs.

“You need to get out of here, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice low, husky, fingers tapping against his bent knee. “I need to deal with this.”

You’ve inched a bit closer to him, you realize, your traitorous body giving you away.

“How are you gonna deal with it?” you ask, barely above a whisper. Every inch of you is tingling now, not just the places he touched, and the way he tilts his head back again and groans is not helping matters. “Maybe I should…help.”

His eyes flash to you, pools of red, pupils blown big as dinner plates. “You want to…help.”

“You said this could kill you,” you continue, leaning forward until your palms hit the floor. “Someone should…keep an eye on you, y’know. Make sure you…y’know, don’t.”

“How articulate of you.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and rumbly, but you don’t miss the way his shoulders shake even after the laughter has stopped. His breathing is shaky too, you can hear it from where you’re crouched. Worry threads through the lust that’s seemingly replaced your blood, and you slide even closer to him, until there’s maybe two feet between you.

“I don’t want you to die.” The words hang heavy in the air and the truth of them twists your guts. Stubborn ass he may be, but he’s done nothing but protect you since he found you back on Earth 374. You…care. You care a lot.

“Lyla can keep an eye on me,” he spits, but you just get closer.

“So she can wipe her hard drive and clean her eyes with soap afterward?” you joke. “I can’t leave you like this, Mig. Can AIs even use soap?”

“Don’t call me that,” he says again.

“Let me help you,” you say, the words coming easier, firmer. “You know that I can.”

You close the distance completely, your knees bumping the side of his thigh and your hand covering his on the floor. The fabric of his suit recedes, revealing his hands, and your fingers brush over his knuckles. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you tell him, leaning back on your heels, lifting your other hand to pull his bent knee straight. “You need help, and I’m offering it.”

He groans again.

“I’ve owed you, this whole time,” you continue, resting your hand on his shin as his leg rests on the floor. It takes everything in you not to let your eyes wander up to the space between his hips, but you manage. “You saved my life; let me save yours.”

The spider made you strong, made you fast, but Miguel…He’s so large, so imposing, and the moment his hands land on your body, you know he’s been holding back from you.

He maneuvers you into his lap, your knees resting against his hips. In an instant you can feel him, the hard prod of his cock against your cunt, separated only by the thin fabric of your pants and the rippling material of his suit. Miguel groans as he fits his face into your neck, talons pressing into your hips as the suit melts away, every inch of his golden skin suddenly on display. It’s overwhelming and your blood heats, unable to bite back the moan that slips free when he pulls your hips against his, the pressure between you exactly what you need it to be.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he grits out, his hips lifting off the floor as he chases your body, as you chase each other. “This is just…”

“I’m helping,” you breathe out, your hands curling around his shoulders as you settle into his lap. Well, not so much as settle as twitch, the fabric of your shirt riding up as his hands move up your sides, curling around your ribs. “This is only about keeping you alive.”

“Alive,” he repeats, and you bite your lip, feeling his fingers curl into your shirt. “You have no fucking idea how…”

“God, shut up,” you groan, gripping his face in your hands, claiming his mouth for your own. The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears as your lips meet his and he growls at you, shredding your shirt and tossing the fabric away, leaving you bare from the waist up. His hands drop to your ass then, tugging at your pants and you bite his bottom lip. “You could just ask nicely, you know.”

He just grunts in response, effectively splitting the elastic band and pulling the rest of your clothes away. You’re completely naked now, perched in his lap, and your skin heats in every spot you’re pressed to him. Which is basically everywhere. “I’ll get you new ones,” he grits, and you roll your eyes, biting at his lip again. 

There’s little ceremony to it. Miguel drags you along him a few times, the feel of him prodding between your legs lighting a fire in you. You can feel how big he is, but you busy yourself with his mouth, your knees pressing against his hips. One of his hands skims down your back, curving around your hip and sliding two fingers through your folds. It makes you keen, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses those fingers into you.

“Wet,” he grunts against your mouth, his breath stuttering as you clench around his digits. You rock your hips into his hand, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging until his head tips back.

“Take what you need,” you say, and for once, he listens to you.

The feeling of his fingers pulling out leaves you aching, but you’re not left waiting for long. He presses against the small of your back, tilting your hips, and then he’s inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. The sheer fullness that sweeps through you is almost too overwhelming, and your breath whooshes out of you as your chest slams into his. You can feel the way his heart is racing, the rapid thump beneath his sternum nearly vibrating against your own.

This doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, circling your hips as he plants his feet, bends his knees. He holds you up slightly, giving just enough space between you for him to thrust up into you, hitting a spot that makes you see stars. This is just…helping. I’m just being helpful.

You’re just…quickly reaching the most intense orgasm you’ve had in a hot second.

He keeps hammering into that same spot, the lab filling with the sound of his skin on yours, your panting breaths, and Miguel’s grunts. It’s fucking euphoric, your head falling back between your shoulders. “Mig, I—”

“Not yet,” he growls, and suddenly you’re being lifted, the heavy weight of him still pressed inside you. Your grip on each other is firm, and Miguel moves quickly, sweeping you out of the lab and through the door that leads to his room. You barely get a breath in before your back hits his mattress and he’s towering over you, his big hands curled around your thighs, kneeling so he can prop your ass up. The angle lets him drive deeper and you throw your arms over your head, curling your fingers in his bedsheets, trying to find some leverage.

One of his hands moves over you, palm grazing your stomach before moving down. He thumbs at your clit, dragging another moan out of you, his brow going hard. You have a better look at his face now, his expression pinched, eyes trained on where he’s pounding into you. His skin is damp with sweat, a sheen on his forehead, his mouth hanging open. You swear you can see his pulse jumping in his throat.

“Want you to cum, princesa,” he nearly begs, and the hitch in his voice makes goosebumps rise all over your body. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He punctuates each word with a deep thrust and everything in you goes impossibly tighter.

“This is about you,” you pant out, clawing at his sheets. “I don’t need—”

But you do. You really fucking do, but something about admitting that to him right here and now feels…wrong. It twists your gut in a not-so-fun way.

“I don’t care, I need you to cum,” he growls, releasing his grip on your thigh to grab at your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “Now.”

Suddenly, your body is not your own. It responds instantly to his command, a string threading your muscles drawing tight as a bow before snapping entirely. Your back arches against the mattress, so hard it just brings you closer to him and Miguel drops his head, dragging his nose up the middle of your chest. It courses through your entire body, your hips lifting entirely off the bed to chase him, to keep him buried within you.

He groans as you cum, the sound the only thing you’re aware of besides the pleasure setting your body on fire. There’s a ringing in your ears, your muscles going lax as you start to come down, but he doesn’t stop. One of your hands floats to his hair, tangling the sweat-damp strands around your knuckles and you can feel his growl shake your ribs.

“More,” he grits, raking his hands down your sides, gripping your hips again. You inhale sharply as his head turns, skirting across your chest to take your nipple between his lips. The pace is relentless, your body growing tight again with his movements. He’s playing you like a fucking fiddle, and you’re the first to admit you’re loving every second of it.

You manage to open your eyes, the pleasure receding just enough for you to regain some of your faculties.

He’s staring right back.

It makes you flinch, jolting in his grasp as his lips draw back, revealing one pointed fang. You shiver as he drags the tip of it around your nipple.

“Again.”

And again, your body obeys. This time it sneaks up on you more than barrels through you, making you throw your head back against the mattress. “Fuck, Miguel.” Your nails dig against his scalp, tugging at his hair, revelling in the noise it pulls out of him. You want to record it, put it on repeat, set it as your fucking ringtone. How the fuck is he doing this? This was supposed to be about him.

Not that you’re not enjoying yourself. Quite the opposite.

He’s still staring at you, peering up at you from where he’s bent against your chest. There’s something in those ridiculous eyes, something you have no name for, and you force your eyes away, moving them down his body, to where you can see him still driving into your cunt, the length of him slick with you. The sight alone makes you clench, and when you do, he curses under his breath.

“Where…?” he grits, the hoarseness in his voice drawing your eyes back up to his face.

He looks like he’s in pain. Your heart twists in your chest at the sight, reaching up to swipe your hand across his sweaty forehead. “Does it hurt?”

“I need…” He trails off, leaning into your touch, turning his head and nipping at your wrist, at your pulse. “Where can I…?”

“Wherever you want,” you pant, gasping as he drives as deep as inhumanly possible, moving you further up the bed. “Whatever you need to—”

You’re cut off by the roar that echoes through the room. He buries his face in your neck as it happens, most of his weight dropping onto you, hips pinning yours to the bed, chest pressed to yours. He pulls out at the last second, cock sliding through the hinge of your thigh, cum spurting hot against your stomach. He doesn’t seem to care about the mess he’s making of you both, his entire body covering yours as he shudders his way through it.

It feels like it lasts forever. His limbs go taut and then loose, his breath quickening and then slowing against the shell of your ear. You don’t know what else to do except hold him through it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, one hand finding his hair once more. It’s like his release is chasing the pollen from his system, his superhuman body returning to his brand of normal. He babbles through some of it, grunts and moans and something that sounds almost like your name murmured in your ear.

You just hold him.

Eventually, he seems to come back to himself. You’re loathe to admit you’re revelling in the feel of him against you, the way his hands are tangled in your hair against his pillows. The weight of him is…it’s nice. It’s really fucking nice.

It’s too nice.

You wait a few minutes, wait for him to find his bearings, to peel himself away from you, but it never comes. He’s a solid weight on top of you, and while you’ve been listening to his erratic breathing, waiting for it to even out, you realize that it’s gone…slow. He’s asleep.

“Mig,” you murmur, barely above a whisper, tugging softly at his hair. Nothing. Not so much as a twitch. He’s dead to the world, his slow breaths turning to quiet snores in your ear. Carefully, inch by inch, you slide your way out from under him. You freeze when he rolls onto his side, his breath hitching for a moment, but it evens out again and you slip off the edge of his bed.

Your clothes are toast, the shreds of fabric scattered on the floor of the lab, so you slip into his closet, finding a t-shirt that’s way too big for you. You definitely don’t inhale the scent that clings to it as you slip it over your head.

Your steps are quiet as you pad back into his bedroom, leaned up on your toes as you peer at him. Still asleep, hasn’t so much as moved from the spot you left him. You draw closer, your fingers curled around the hem of his t-shirt.

He doesn’t move an inch as you reach for his wrist, easily slipping the watch off his wrist and replacing it with your own. The too-big band of his adjusts to your size as you close the latch around your wrist, turn on your heel, and scurry from the room, through the lab, shooting a web up at the ceiling and launching yourself up to the next floor, the level your room is on.

You don’t make a sound as you pack your bag, reluctantly shrugging out of Miguel’s t-shirt to put your suit on, stuffing it into your bag with handfuls of clothes, whatever random shit your muddled mind has decided you need to take with you.

It felt too nice.

You know what would happen, you’ve decided, if you stay. You’d drift off, there in his bed, enveloped by his broad frame, half-drunk off the scent of him. You’d get the best sleep of your life, and when you woke the next morning, he’d be there, staring down his nose at you, the desperate man that had pulled pleasure from your body like it was his damn day job replaced with the grumpy fuck that plucked your last nerve like a guitar string.

The problem was that you knew exactly what he’d say to you:

This doesn’t mean anything.

The problem is that you’ve grown to care too much for him, grumpy, desperate, and all things in between.

Lyla makes an appearance as you sling your bag over your shoulder, keying in the universe you want to jump to, Miguel’s watch not locked out the same way yours is. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

You lift a brow as she cocks her digital hip at you. “You want me to answer that? So you can tell me I’m full of shit?”

“Ideally, yes.”

“Can AIs make promises?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Technically speaking.”

“Don’t tell him where I am,” you ask, pleading. “Please?”

“He’ll find out anyway,” she tells you, shaking her head, heart-shaped glasses slipping down her nose. Her eyes are big as she stares at you over the rims. “He’s smarter than you give him credit for. I know he’s a grumpy asshole ninety-nine percent of the time, but he—”

“Lyla, please.”

She sighs, sliding the glasses back up. “He won’t hear it from me.”

“Thank you.”

The portal crackles to life, that familiar tug in your stomach as you step toward it. Lyla fades from view as you take another step, and you ignore the echo of Miguel’s voice calling your name, and step through completely.

[witchofthesouls]

I would love to see you write some more culture differences between the bots and humans. If you wouldn’t mind :0 I wish we saw some in TFP

Same here. I love seeing world-building and deep lore, especially with other fantasy/sci-fi civilizations.

TFP gave us so much and so little at the same time. It's like going to a restaurant, you have a drink and great appetizers, so you're constantly waiting for the entrée that isn't coming!

TFP is also really fascinating when looking at it with the lens of the caste system and its deep roots within and among the 'bots, even their reduced circumstances. I get the feeling that Optimus is way more casual in way with his team than what the decorum would demand, even with his barriers.

The Autobots would find human cityscapes as quaint. Even the dense sprawls of megacities with towering high rises are paltry reminder of what they're used to.

Cybertron was a planet where its wilds had been tamed. Either reshaped or completely stripped. The Wastelands is/was an apt name for the baren landscapes outside the established city-states.

It wasn't just a large difference in public transport and zoning and sheer scale. It was also the functional design and architecture.

City-states mimicked the layouts of Titans' ground alt-modes. They didn't sprawl outward. Those had set perimeters based on Titans' outer defenses. Instead, the cities expanded up or down.

It wasn't limited to just a parking structure or secretive bases. Whole levels housed entire communities of what castes resided there: occupations, hospitals, sewage, refineries, restaurants, entertainment, and so much. Some mecha go without ever seeing the sunlight or feel real wind, especially those at the lowest of the system. The lowest castes are set all the way at the bottom, among ancient tech and dilapidated buildings. Sorting and recycling what could be kept and what must be sent back to the upper levels.

The concept of "open to the public" would confuse the Autobots. The Golden Age operated its society under the strict overview of a caste system, which expanded to "where" and "what" individuals of a caste could access.

Monster truck rallies fall under bloodsport to them. Bulkhead once scavenged money to watch and do small bets at high-stakes drift racing and lower-tier gladiator matches below the ground. Mecha still had to pay entrance fees to it.

Parks were under the Artisanal caste. Blending murals of legends, careful tending to fauna that are functionally extinct that was tailored to the agreed aesthetic, live music from specific pupils of masters, playing on instruments that merged with the gardens, so it was difficult to tell what was a tool and a plant or animal. And entry to any of it was only allowed for certain castes.

Universities were thriving, self-contained communities, and major points of power. No one off the list would be allowed into its grounds. All visitors and short-term guests were deeply screened and monitored. There is no such thing as "dropping by." Everything is meticulously planned and prepared. Unless a faculty member personally vouches for a guest, they must heed the numerous rules or a risk permanent banning.

Academia had long since been territorial over its talents and quality of its programs and people. They refuse to allow anyone outside its jurisdiction to bully one of its own. No matter the rank or caste, it will close its inescapable jaws around an outsider.

The fact that someone could go to a private university and simply jog upon its grounds is mind-boggling to the 'bots.

As well as libraries and their courses and workshops. So anyone can go? Anyone?! Everyone has access to the knowledge!? Can anyone simply go join a seminar on local gardening? Anyone can just go to a playground and start swinging or playing basketball or flying a kite or dancing to music? Anyone?

Bulkhead had a lot of questions for Jack and Raf since they're locals compared to Miko.

"So anyone can go?"

"Yeah. I used to spend my recess looking up bird anatomy and Ancient Greece and Egypt."

"You had a thing for ancient civilizations?" Raf asked.

"Doesn't everyone?" Jack shrugged. "Pharoahs and gladiators and old gods? We ate that up with mystery books or Goosebumps."

"I read Sherlock Holmes and the Chronicles of Narnia."

"Those are classics. Hey, did you get into The Lo-"

"Hold up," Bulkhead cut in, crouched down and leaning more forward, as if sharing a secret and quietly ask, "So anyone?"

"Yes. Anyone." Jack repeated, rapidly firing off each point with a finger. "Their family. Their friends. Their classmates. Their coworkers. Their pe-"

"Even, let's say, a construction worker. He could just go inside and pick up, I don't know, quantum physics? Anatomy of any frames? Gardening?"

"Sure." Raf squinted and moved to wipe off his glasses with his sleeves. "Clubs and people like to donate more to expand the base. Some of the college professors even leave early editions of their textbooks." Raf readjusted his glasses and beamed. "It's for easier access people and for an industrial copier."

"Oh..." There was a wealth of meaning in that small noise.

"You..." Jack struggled on the concept. Perhaps giant metal aliens didn't need books and could download information from their own internet. "You don't have libraries or schools?"

"No. We did." Bulkhead sighed. "I just wasn't allowed into them."

Out of all of them, Miko would be the to come the closest to understanding them in some ways. 出る杭は打たれる. The nail that sticks out gets hammered in.

As a transfer student from Japan, Miko does have instances of culture clashes with her American classmates and host family.

She's loud. She knows that. But Americans are a different breed with no restraint. In some ways, admirable. In others, incredibly frustrating.

Miko is used to a far heavier workload with long hours after-school and a busy city life. Jasper qualifies between a small and large town that she can't walk around easily on her own with the blazing heat and bitter cold nights and the lack of a car or a bike.

Detention in the US is a joke to her. Stay in school after it's over? She's used to doing that back at home with clubs and cleaning it. On a Saturday? Same thing. Some clubs back home ran long hours over the weekend. Do homework? She already finished it during lunch or between classes because she wants all the other time to herself and the 'bots.

Because Bulkhead gets a realization just how free the kids' social mobility is, he tries to get on Miko over her scrapping at school and her assignments, especially after Ratchet's high jacking their science projects resulted in failure. And that was another strange blow since Ratchet is a medic and a scientist. She's smart and quick and can be rough around the edges and so everywhere, and, to him, Miko deserves everything she could want in her short life. (And wasn't that also a terrifying concept to grasp? To just live and die under a single vorn?)

At first, Miko was getting annoyed because it's similar to the well-meaning nagging her host family does, but she reads the worry he has, and they have to really sit down and speak and soothe over his misunderstandings.

It comes as a huge surprise to her that Bulkhead can just download a language into him. Context and colloquialisms would be missing, and he needs work because he's a mix between extreme formality and, much to her delight, yakuza. And it's all because of her own frustration that English is her second language.

[volturissideslut]

Hellooo,

How would the Kings and guards (esp Demetri and Alec) react to a mate who is OBSESSED with academic validation and is working themselves to death studying at a dark academia aesthetic university like Oxford/Cambridge?

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

Aro loves to spoil you, gifting you aesthetically pleasing hardbook versions of all the classes books. He gifts you bows, clothes, shoes, bags, books and happily pays for any art or education you may want. He wants the best for you and admired the aesthetic and your persuit of knowledge.

Marcus teaches you everything he knows, eager to spend as much time with you as possible. He gives you constant praise and makes sure you don't overwork yourself. He isn't above manhandling you into taking care of yourself if need be.

Caius paints the hard covers of books into beautiful individual art pieces as gifts for you, and many many painting of you can be found. A few of the rooms in his private quarters have been turned into a private library/study for you, a space for you to do all your work.

Alec attends classes with you and even takes notes for you. He assists with whatever reaserch you need to do and plans educational trips out to museums. The most recent one he's planned is to take you to the big telescope in hawaii - but that's a surprise for next month.

Jane gives you access to her diaries. Not many within the volturi know, but she has journaled her experiences and given a first hand account of history since she turned 50. It became a hobby, one that she now shares with you, her mate, and she's more than happy to spend time with you going through them together.

Demetri teaches you Latin, opening your eyes to so much more books, texts, dialogues and history. You stay awake at night listening to him tell you about history, most especially ancient Rome, and beg for him to keep going even when he insists you should sleep.

Felix collects gifts for you whenever he's away on missions. Most recently, he's filled shelves upon shelves of records of classical music in your shared room, along with a vintage record player he gifted you for your anniversary.

[bratzforchris]

Latin and Pentagrams

Summary ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆: A night of studying turns into something much darker when you stumble upon an old Latin book and end up summoning something less than human

Pairing: Demon!Calum x feminine!reader

Warnings: 18+ content (this is much darker than my other works, minors dni!!!!!), horror/scary themes, religious-ish imagery, teratophilia (attraction to monsterfucking/non human characters), fingering/handjobs (f and m receiving), p in v, orgasm denial, size kink, overstimulation, pet names, thigh riding, temporary body modification, fluffy ending (i think that's all but let me know if i missed something!)

Word Count: 7.4k

Note: This is much different than what I normally write, so I hope you all enjoy! This was somewhat inspired by my conversation with a friend a few days ago about taking AP Latin in high school so! Inspiration! I plan on trying to get a few more Halloween fics up 😈

☾

“I actually can’t believe you’re studying tonight, Y/N.” Your best friend, Gaia, said, rolling her eyes and giving you a light, playful shove. 

“I have a big Latin exam tomorrow,” You sighed. “You know that.”

“You can have one night of fun, Y/N.” she said, giving you the “pleaseeeeee” eyes. 

“Latin is my hardest subject. Besides, I hate parties. I’d rather enjoy Halloween with a candy bar and some movies.” You mumbled, running your finger across the stick-and-poke pentagram tattoo you’d given yourself in eleventh grade. 

All your life, you had adored travel and studying the history and culture of other places. The day you’d gotten the offer to exchange at University of St. Andrews in Scotland was probably the best day you’d ever had. But there were days, like right now, where you wondered if it was worth the sacrifice. You didn’t get “breaks” as an exchange student, especially if you went to a university as prestigious as this one. Being a History major, with a minor in Classics, wasn’t quite the field for going easy on the studying. You would’ve loved to go to a smaller Halloween party with Gaia and a few other friends, but in your head, duty called. 

“All Hallows Eve, you mean? Be a proper Scot.” she chuckled in her Scottish accent. 

“Yeah, sorry. See you tomorrow?” You offered, shoving your glasses up the bridge of your nose. 

It was beginning to grow dark and the chilly, crisp breeze was blowing the orange and red leaves across the damp sidewalk, creating the perfect autumnal and slightly bewitching aura for the night. You two had been sitting on the steps of the main campus library, discussing your classes, the upcoming holidays and everything in between, but now, you could see the urge to go party etching itself onto your friend’s face. 

“Duh,” Gaia giggled, standing up and giving you a hug. “You going in there to study?” she questioned, craning her head towards the giant, regal-looking, cobblestone building. 

“Yeah…” You gnawed on your lip, antsy to get to your studying. “It’s the only place that has the books I need.”

“Well, don’t get to summoning any demons or spirits tonight,” she booped your nose. “When you do the ‘o, s, t, -mus, -tis, -nt’ thing for present tense endings it sounds like a fuckin’ pagan chant.”

“I won’t, I promise,” You hoisted your backpack up onto your shoulder. “Now, go have fun.” You turned Gaia’s shoulders so that she could march down the stone steps.

She waved goodbye to you, hurrying down the steps and across the quad. As you watched her leave, a feeling itched its way into your skin, burying deep inside your bones. It wasn’t quite melancholy, but you felt yourself wishing that you could tag along to the parties, even if you didn’t enjoy them all that much. 

You shook your head, getting rid of all those angsty thoughts. Giving your tattoo a quick rub with the top of your pointer finger, you marched up the stairs and unlocked the door, walking into the library, breathing in the smell of carpet and old, musty books. Being a student employee had its benefits some days, and access to the library after hours and on holidays was definitely one of them. You flicked on the light by the front desk and sat down, taking it all in for a few moments before pulling out your supplies. 

The library was old and had the aire of a medieval castle or church, what with its stained glass windows, large chandeliers over every table, and beautiful, soaring woodwork carvings. You kicked your old, crusty Converse up onto the desk and chuckled as you replayed Gaia’s warnings in your head. Maybe it was the difference in growing up in Scotland versus your American upbringing, but she was always much more superstitious and believed in the supernatural more than you did. 

For some reason, you remembered that old legend she had told you when you were a new student last year, something about how devil worshippers used to use this very library for their secret meetings back when the university first opened in the 1400s. You could almost believe now as you lit the candle on the desk with a lighter from your back pocket. The flame cast the desk in an eerie, orange glow, which added to the ambience of the flickering chandelier over table three and the blacked-out back of the library where you hadn’t turned the lights on yet. 

You shook the thoughts from your head and pulled your laptop and books from your bag. The last thing you needed right now was to get off track because you were thinking about some silly legends. You began to run through your conjugations and tenses, reciting the lines to yourself. The Latin rolled off your tongue making you sound rather scholarly and a bit haunting if you said so yourself.

“Ugh.” You grumbled when you reached the portion of the study guide on the history of Latin and paganism. 

You threw the book down on the desk rather angrily, but couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face when you read the bit about Latin in pagan chants and then looked down at the pentagram tattoo. It had been stupid at first, you poking the design into your skin just for the aesthetic. But now, the more you studied, the more you felt connected to the art. You decided to take a break from the studying, pulling your phone from your pocket and opening up Tumblr. The first thing you saw when you opened the app was a rather scandalous fanart as the header for someone’s fanfic. It showed a feminine reader fucking with a rather monstrous, demonic-looking creature. You smirked and bit your lip, crossing your thighs. You’d never tell anyone else, but monsterfucking was your guilty pleasure when it came to kink. There was just something about someone who wasn’t from this world using you for their own pleasure that turned you on. 

You sometimes wondered what that would actually be like. Would it be the same as fucking with a human? You shook your head and clicked your phone off, placing it face down on the desk. Standing up and stretching, you looked around the library. It was almost the perfect setting for Halloween night. You looked down at your abandoned textbook, remembering what you’d told Gaia about the books in here. Maybe you did need a different book to help you study. 

You pushed around the desk and trailed down the aisles of the library, using your phone as a flashlight, until you came to the 600s section where the university kept their history books. You stooped, running your pointer finger along the spines of the books. There were so many here that you could easily spend all night studying, but you knew you had found a perfect book when your finger landed on a thick, leather-bound book, spine inlaid with gold plating. 

You pulled it out, staring at the soft, leather cover. It didn’t have a title, simply a pentagram on it in gold that matched the spine. You sunk down, leaning your back against the bookshelf as you flipped the cover open. The pages were browned, stained, and written on parchment. You gnawed on your lip as you realized that this was a true, historical book. You flipped past the cover page and shined your flashlight on the back side. There, in swirly, beautiful cursive it read “authored 1416” by someone whose name you couldn’t make out. 

Why did your school’s library have this historical gem among the other, modern books? You shrugged, brushing it off and flipping through the book. The first few pages didn’t particularly catch your eye, just lines upon lines of Latin, as well as crude sketches of the gods. All stuff you had looked at and read before. You sighed, randomly flipping to the middle of the book. You felt a calling to that section for some reason. Maybe it was your boredom, or maybe it was the Halloween spirit bewitching you to do something different. You could see as you looked out the window while flipping the pages that it was completely dark now. The moon was high and full in the sky. You were definitely one for the aesthetics, and this was the perfect Halloween setting. 

Finally, you reached the middle of the book. It had taken you a while to turn the pages because they were such delicate parchment, but now, the image before you was worth it. It was different from the other drawings in the book. The sketch pictured a hulking man, about eight feet tall, with bulging muscles. He had soft curls and a devilish smirk about him in the picture. He would’ve looked almost normal, despite the height, if it weren’t for the pointed horns curving from his head and tail protruding from his rear. He had sharp, knifelike claws on his hands, but there was something about him. He was sinfully beautiful. 

The sketch was much more fine and detailed than the rest of the book. The Latin paragraph by his drawing was also much more detailed and beautiful than the sentences written previously. You noticed at the top of the page there was the name of your university, and you quickly read the paragraph, the Latin rolling off your tongue like you had been practicing for so many years. It was a set of directions, pointing you to the back of the library. 

You pushed off your haunches, walking back to where the book was pointing you. You almost wondered if a Wiccan practitioner before you had walked this very path through the library. It wasn’t hard to believe; the library was centuries old. As you walked, you cradled the open book in your arms. Gaia’s tale about the devil worshippers in the 1400s rang through your mind as you realized when this book had been authored while walking. You didn’t exactly believe in anything supernatural or even devil worshippers, but you couldn’t help feeling a slight chill in your bones once you had reached the back of the library. 

It was dark back here, much darker than the rest of the library. The only light shone from your dying phone’s battery as you hit a stone wall. You’d never been at the back of the library, and it was very clear hardly anyone else had either. The stones were damp and cool and cobwebs littered the corners. You read the passage again, running your hand along the rocks. You didn’t know why you were doing this. It was clear you had literally hit a wall. Maybe it was procrastinating that you had an exam tomorrow, or maybe it was the urge to do something for Halloween. 

You looked down at your tattoo once more before reading the instructions on the book. All it said was to look for the sixth stone, in the sixth row, of the sixth column. Your eyes searched the wall before finding the stone and pressing it. Nothing happened. You sighed, going to turn away from the wall and walk back to the desk. You couldn’t wait to rub it in Gaia’s face tomorrow that the “devil worshippers” of the library were nothing but an urban legend. 

Suddenly, the wall rumbled, two sides splitting to reveal a large wooden door with the same designs as the book carved into it. You stood in front of it, absolutely gaping. There was no way a stone wall had just split in half. There was no way there was another door inside the wall, leading to who knew what. You knew you should turn around, go back to the desk and continue your studies and then go home to your dorm. The last thing you needed was to get stuck in some old passage. 

But you didn’t. Your subconscious pulled you towards the door, and you pulled the rusty, metal lock open. You coughed as the dust blew towards your face, beaming your phone across the room you had stepped into. It was small and earthen, almost like a prison cell, but it had an almost magical vibe to it. At the far end lay what looked like a stone hearth, and your feet pulled you towards it. You looked down at the book as you walked. This was where it had led you to, and now there were further directions for you to follow. 

At the foot of the altar was another pentagram, and on the ledge were a few wax candles in bronze holders, a box of matches at their base. It was as if the matches had been placed there recently, but it seemed like no one had been in this room for decades. It lay dead silent and still, like a tomb. You picked up the box of matches, but nearly jumped out of your skin when the door that had led you here slammed shut. Looking down at your tattoo once more, you began to read off the passage from the book. The Latin spilled from your mouth like an incantation as you lit the candles and slid your phone into your back pocket. 

As you did so, a warm, sweet heat curled through your core, blossoming in your tummy before traveling down to your thighs. You didn’t know what you were expecting to happen. Were you actually trying to summon a fucking demon? The feeling was wonderful and exhilarating, and you felt called to continue the chant as it ran down the page. Surely if you actually summoned the being there would be a way to banish him…right? You ignored the warnings on the page, written in red ink that looked suspiciously like blood. Demons probably weren’t even real; if anything, you’d get a good laugh at this later. 

As you finished the words on the page, your skin began to prickle with goosebumps, the hairs standing tall. That had to be a coincidence. There was no way anything was actually happening. You were making it up, your mind bewitched with Gaia’s folklore and the spirit of All Hallows’ Eve. If warning bells were supposed to be going off in your head, they weren’t. The only sensation you had was your heart fluttering with excitement. 

Just as you spoke the last word, an unnatural, purple fog flitted through the room, swirling about the chamber and ruffling the pages of the old book. It curled faster and harder until all you could see was purple smog, and the sconces on the wall firing to life on one-by-one, without you lighting them. Here you were, alone in a sealed chamber that no one alive knew about, summoning god knows what. Gaia’s playful joke about bringing a demon to life floated through your mind. Despite not being one to be superstitious, something supernatural was happening in this room. You should’ve felt scared, terrified, horrified, any antonym for excitement, but you didn’t. 

As if you had been studying the passage for weeks, the Latin chant flowed from your mouth like you had memorized it, even though you’d only read it once. You repeated the lines five more times for a total of six with your eyes closed. When you opened them, the smoke had cleared somewhat. The only wisp of purple that you saw was slowly seeping out of the walls, being edged by an invisible wind. It curled towards the middle of the room, twisting in a tornado like shape, further and further towards the ceiling. You didn’t know why, but you covered your face with your hands. Maybe it was fear of nothing actually happening. You had fallen asleep at the desk while studying and would wake up in a few moments to nothing but an empty page on your computer. 

After a few moments, you uncovered your eyes, seeing that the smoke was beginning to fade away. All of what had just happened was blocked out when you noticed the absolutely enormous figure standing in the middle of the etched pentagram, the sconces casting him in a warm, orange glow. You fisted your eyes once more to just make sure you were really seeing what you thought you were. The half-human, half-mythological creature came into view, standing before you regally. He was even more intimidating in person as he stared down at you with dark eyes, but the only way your body responded was through a heated moan. 

The beast was absolutely huge. His shoulders were nearly as broad as you were tall, with bulging muscles and unholy pecs. His skin was tanned and littered with inked tattoos, depicting battles he’d won and scenes from his tales. His black curls fell to his pointed ears, serving as a bed for his red horns. Your eyes caught on them for a moment, taking in how they were wider at the base but curled upwards, ending in knifelike daggers that scraped the ceiling. He was probably nearly eight feet tall, covered in muscle all over, but the thing that really made you heat up was his face. 

His chocolate-brown eyes looked you up and down curiously as his plump, pink lips curved into a smirk that started at his cupid’s bow. Whoever this demon was, his face was littered with a bit of stubble and despite his uncanny appearance, you longed to kiss his face all over, feeling the hair and telling him just how beautiful he was. He was like something one could only dream of. 

His chest was heaving with heavy, agitated breaths. His fists were clenched in front of him, but you could see the deep, black claws that jutted from his fingertips. Although his skin was a completely normal shade for a human, it was clear he was closer to a beast than any person. His legs were thick and muscular, but appeared human under the crude, burgundy, fabric shorts he wore. His bare feet were like that of an animal, more clawlike, the same type as his hands. The thing that stole your gaze the most, though, was the red tail, tipped with a pointed heart that protruded from his rear, flicking with arousal as the tent in his shorts grew. 

“I…” You started, whimpering slightly. 

You weren’t scared per say, but the demon was rather intimidating, both in stature and how capable he looked of pleasure. He cocked his head, his brown eyes growing lustful at the noises falling from your lips. The adrenaline of the situation had worn off and now you were gasping for air as you realized you had just summoned a magical, sinful creature. The demon stepped closer to you, tail curling behind him, eyes trained on you. Your body responded to his gaze by heating up, the warmth curling through your belly as you surveyed him. You didn’t question your body’s arousal towards him; you were so syrupy-sweet with desire that you paid no mind. 

“It was you who summoned me, angel?” the demon asked once he was about three feet away from you. 

His voice rattled through the stone chamber, a deliciously deep bass that snuck its way into your bones, settling there. You clenched your thighs together in your sweatpants as your clit began to throb with horniness. You craned your neck slowly, eyes traveling up his spectacular body until you met his face. Even with your neck leaned back so far, you just barely could meet the creature’s eyes. 

“It was me,” You admitted, gnawing on your lip to keep any unwanted noises from escaping. “I…wanted to.” You said, picking your words carefully, fearful of how such a beast would react to what you said. 

The chamber fell dead for a moment, the only sound being the demon’s breathing as he looked you up and down. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, or simply just curious. You wondered if he knew how someone summoned him, or if he simply just popped up wherever the spell called. Your question was answered when he spoke, that beautiful voice flowing from him once more. 

“The book told you to summon me?” he asked, raising a brow. 

You could tell now that he was more curious than anything, surprise making its way onto his features as you studied his face. You glanced around the room, mulling over your answer before speaking. You thought of the way you had skipped the Halloween parties, opting to sit in the library alone, the way you’d unusually ignored your studies to find another book, the way you’d skipped the rest of the book to look at the picture of the demon before you, and then follow the directions on it. 

“Yes,” You said, your voice shaking. “I felt called to summon you.”

“Do you believe in the supernatural, baby witch?” he asked you. 

“I…I don’t know,” You didn’t even recognize the voice that was coming from you, the words high and tinged with a mixture of fear and arousal. “I'm just letting the Halloween spirit get to me!” You said, backing against the altar. 

The devil smirked, pushing his body against your own, pinning you to the altar. “Sweetheart,” he started. “I think a little more than the Halloween spirit calls you to summon a sex demon.” he growled. 

The noise rumbled up from his chest and you tentatively lifted your head to meet his eyes. They had darkened to an almost black color, full of lust. His lips had a hungry look plastered across them, smirking when he met your eyes. His hulking body blocked out the light from the candles as he stood in front of you, casting his body in a warm glow. The light glinted off his white, razor-sharp fangs as he smirked, licking his lips with his forked, black tongue. 

“I wanted to know what fucking a demon is like…” You mumbled.

“What was that, angel?” he asked, grabbing your chin in his hand and lifting it to meet his eyes. “You will not mumble when you talk to me.”

“I wanted to know what fucking a demon is like!” You yelped, backing impossibly further, your body jolting with fear, but a wetness growing in your underwear nonetheless. 

Your emotions were an absolute jumble inside your chest. You felt fearful and nauseous with horror, but your desire to know the sinful creature was epically stronger. The dampness in your panties was only becoming more prominent, clinging to your skin and agitating your clit. The creature had caged you in with his humongous body, looking down at you. 

“Well then, I’m happy to fulfill your desires.” the demon cooed. 

He was practically salivating as he looked at you, moving his large claws to hold your body in place. He gave off such an air of power that despite the physical filling of the room, his personality was filling the chamber so tightly, blocking out everything that wasn’t him. 

“I won’t hurt you, baby witch.” he said with an unexpected softness, stroking your cheek. 

His gentleness shocked you, removing the fear from your body. As his body pressed ever closer to yours, you could smell his delicious scent, and you longed to bury your face in his glorious chest and never let go. The scent was like that of cigarettes and cherries, intoxicatingly sweet and a bit smoky.  

“I’m not a witch,” You whispered, voice shaky. “You…you have me confused with someone else.”

“You summoned me by reading the Latin, I’m quite literally a demon, and you have this,” he reeled off, stroking the claw of his thumb over your pentagram tattoo. “All of that qualifies you to be a witch.”

The creature wasn’t really lying. All of those things qualified you to be a witch, or at least a beginner in practicing magic. You longed to go back in time and heed Gaia’s warnings about the supernatural and its creatures, but for now, you were enjoying the way this half-man, half-beast far too much. You nodded your head in a sort of acceptance, looking into his deep, chocolate eyes. 

You weren’t sure if he smelled the fear melt from your body, or if the acceptance was written on your face, but the creature pinned you to the altar with his claws, his hips pressing against your upper body. He wrapped his tail around your upper thigh, almost like a garter, but to your surprise, it wasn’t cold and slimy like you had anticipated. It was warm and the heat made your body seize with arousal. You slowly relaxed into the touch, humming softly. His body was hotter than any human should be, both sexually and temperature-wise. 

“Do you have a name?” You asked him softly, melting in his grasp. 

The book had just called him “The Powerful One”, but if he was going to call you names like “angel” and “baby witch”, you thought it only fair to have one to use for him. He looked at you curiously, cocking his head as he searched your expression. 

“I can’t share my name with you, pet,” he hummed. The noise sounded almost like that of an enormous lion, akin to a purr. He used his right hand to cup your face with intention, his claws scraping softly against the nape of your neck. “It allows those who know the demon too much power.”

“Oh…” You said shyly and a bit sadly. 

After a moment though, the thought fleeted from your mind. The demon’s name was flowing further and further from you as you rested comfortably into his soft, burning hand. You blushed as you wondered if the rest of his body was like his chest and hands. Would he leave your own heat burning with affection?

“Angel,” he crooned, stroking your cheek to bring you back to reality. “I have been alive a millennia. That allows one many, many names. Rex, Dominus Potens, Magnūs. They are of your choosing." His voice was gentle as he spoke to you, almost like he was a human man speaking to his girlfriend, rather than a creature that spent his life in the depths of hell. 

“King, Powerful Master, and The Great One?” You looked to the beast as the Latin translations sloppily rolled off your tongue. 

He nodded, a soft smirk painting his lips. You would’ve expected a sex demon to be much rougher and less kind with you, but his softness was like that of a giant teddy bear. The soft personality that was stored inside that monstrous body just made you even more hungry for him. You wished to grind yourself against his body with erotic moans, but you chose to gently stroke his abdomen that was at eye level with you. A happy noise grumbled its way up from the devil’s throat, encouraging you to continue your motion. 

“Dominus…” You said softly. 

The demon gave you a nod of approval, making you utter the word again. This time it fell more smoothly from your lips, and you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes against the altar, wanting to know this magical beast. You were much too short to reach his lips, so you settled for puckering your own and leaving a kiss against his soft breast. His body heat ignited your own and you pushed yourself into him, knowing he would catch you. 

You longed to kiss him, and the creature could sense the feeling from radiating from your body. He was much too tall to stoop and kiss you though, his horns scraping against the ceiling, so he opted to pick you up by the waist, settling you on his hip, almost like a small child. Once he was sure you were set comfortably, he didn’t give you a moment’s more to think before his lips were on yours. 

The beast’s kisses were just like his personality; smooth and subtle, but with an underlying tone of something much more…promiscuous. Even though he was less than human, his empathy was like a wonderful, respectful man. He seemed to understand how small and fragile you were compared to him and he took that into consideration as he kissed you, his muscles bulging as he held you. He kissed you in such a frenzy that you felt high off his love, desperate for your next fix. 

You whined, grinding yourself into his hip as a whine escaped your mouth. To this, the demon deepened the kiss, turning it into a full makeout. You felt his mouth curve into a smirk as you kissed him more fervently. His forked tongue was providing you with overwhelming pleasure as whimpers and gasps fell from your lips. 

Whoever this demon was, his mouth tasted absolutely sinful. You had the urge to just let him rail you until you were beyond fucked-out. Your arms were wrapped around his thick neck as you cried out, practically riding his thigh. The feeling of the fabric rubbing against your clit, as well as the wetness in your panties made the movement pleasurable and you could tell the creature felt the same way. He was nearly growling, loud, erotic rumbles that burst from his chest in monstrous cries. 

“Please,” You panted out. “Please, fuck me, magnūs.”

“Are you ready for dick already, baby witch? Am I that pleasurable?” he asked with a smirk. 

You blushed, knowing your horniness was so visible, but you couldn’t be bothered as the demon’s own seductive noises just made your folds even more wet. “Yes! I am!” You cried out, riding his thigh frantically, trying to get yourself off. 

The demon placed your back against the altar once more, one of his hands holding you in place and the other gripping you under the ass. “So, you want to know what it’s like to fuck a sex demon, angel?” he asked with a smirk, running his tongue over his pearly fangs. “Need to get off on my unholy cock? Do you think you’ll be able to take it all?”

You whined against him, eyes traveling to the tent in his pants you had seen earlier. It was only growing larger, flicking underneath his crude shorts in unison with his maroon tail. The demon snapped his fingers, and suddenly, he was completely naked. You could now completely see his cock, and a moan immediately left you. He was already leaking pre-cum, the deep red organ pulsing with arousal. You had the urge to immediately drop to your knees and suck him off, offering up worship as his cum poured down your throat. 

“Do you think you can take it, baby witch? Or should I go back to where I came from? Forget this little rendezvous ever happened.” he chuckled deeply. 

You knew you would have a hard time fitting more than the head of his cock in your mouth. He was as thick around as your bicep, and nearly as long as your lower leg. Even the monsterfucking porn you looked at and read sometimes hadn’t prepared you for him. The sight should’ve made you nervous about trying to fit him into your cunt, but it didn’t. You simply longed for him to insert himself into your heat, fucking you until you couldn’t take it anymore as you worshipped him. 

“You came looking for me because you’re a slut, pet,” the devil teased you. “You love the idea of being stuffed full of demon cock, don’t you?” 

It was like he was reading your mind, but then again, you were staring so blatantly at his dick, practically salivating. You began to grind your pussy against his chest as he held you, begging him to touch you in any way he possibly could. 

“I can smell that you’re wet for me, baby witch,” he teased, but a tone of love laced his voice. “Are you ready to be split open on my dick?”

You nodded so quickly your head almost fell off. “Do more than that. Ruin my cunt. I’ve waited years to be fucked on a monstrous cock like yours.” You said, fluttering your lashes. 

“Angels aren’t supposed to be filthy,” he hummed. “But if you desire, I’m happy to obey your wish.”

The demon unwrapped his tail from your leg and used it to slowly tickle and tease your wetness through your pants, before he suddenly snapped his fingers once more, leaving you completely naked as well. He continued to tease your pussy as he craned his neck, beginning to softly suckle on your nipples until they were standing tall. He looked into your eyes solemnly when he lifted his head, brown eyes filled with lust. 

“Do you understand what it means to be taken by me, pet?” he cocked his head. “You will never be rid of me after this night. I will be embedded in you forever.” 

“Don’t care,” You whined, shoving yourself into him. “Just need you to fuck me now, Dominius!” You cried, beginning to give his cock that was only growing larger with arousal a handjob, stroking the veiny dick up and down. 

“Oh angel, you’re such a slut,” he chuckled, sliding one hand to insert into your heat. “Dom’t even care about the effects fucking a demon will have on you.”

You whined, practically riding his fingers already, to which he offered teases of how wet you were for him. Your hands had fallen away from his dick at this point, so pleased by his fingers that you tangled your fingers in his soft, black curls. 

“Need you, Rex. Need your cock.” You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes at how sexually frustrated you were. 

“Such a needy baby witch, aren’t you?” he hummed. 

You nodded quickly, tugging on his curls slightly. You were so full of lust and arousal that you would’ve said yes or agreed to anything he asked. The demon added another finger to your hole, slowly sliding them in and out. He used his tail to alternate caressing your face and belly, humming softly. 

“You need preparation for my cock.” he told you softly, explaining in a sort of way why he hadn’t pushed you to the wall and fucked you senseless. 

You slid your hand back down to his shaft and ran your thumb over his head. His pre-cum was warm and wet, practically drenching your entire hand. You tentatively brought your hand to your face and licked it slowly and sensually, savoring the delicious, sinful taste of him. At this, your demon made a pleased noise, pumping your pussy faster. 

“You need more than that, pet,” the beast told you. “Should I fuck your mouth so you can drink it like a sinner drinking holy water?”

You nodded so quickly, eager for him to go through with his words. “Oh please, magnūs.” You whined. 

By this point, you were riding the demon’s fingers, enjoying the way his claws felt inside your sensitive, wet cunt. He wasn’t letting you get off that easy, though. Suddenly the creature pulled out and gazed at you with a playful grin. 

“You didn’t think I was letting you get away with cumming on my fingers and not on my dick, did you, baby witch?” he raised a brow, taunting and challenging you. “I’m going to fill you with so much demon cock that you won’t know how to think and you will cum more times that you can fucking count.” 

Your devil lifted you so that your pening was placed directly over his enormous length. You could feel your wetness dripping onto him, making the organ twitch with pleasure. He was so tall and big that you had to wrap your arms around his torso as he held you under the ass, claws digging into your plump flesh. 

“Are you ready for my monstrous cock, angel?” he asked you, spreading your legs wider and placing his tip against your tiny, tight hole. 

“Yes! Please, Dominus.” You cried out, rocking yourself against it. 

Any of the fear or hesitation you had felt earlier melted away as the demon began to insert only the head of his dick into you. Even with his fingering, it took quite a few moments for him to fit all the way inside. You gasped out in a mixture of pain and pleasure once he was fully inside. It was unlike anything you had felt before. The creature’s dick was stretching your pussy beyond its limits, making you dig your nails into his skin. 

“Shhh, take it like the filthy angel you are,” the demon cooed, thrusting deeper into you. “You wanted this, I know you can do it, baby witch.” he coached you. 

You rocked your hips around him, trying to accommodate his massiveness. The only things falling from your lips were senseless sounds and whimpers as your body got adjusted to the feeling. “Feels amazing.” You slurred out, intoxicated with the ecstasy of him. 

“Your poor little pussy is going to be absolutely wrecked, pet.” he chuckled, beginning to suck on your neck as he rode you. 

The devil kept inserting himself into you, moving just wonderfully so that you could feel his dick nearly rearranging your insides. You didn’t know how much of him was left for you to take. Your walls were aching with the effort of taking him, but your demon was making you feel so good. He had taken such great care of your body and made it his own. You stared into his lustful eyes as he came suddenly, the same tingling sensation as when you had tasted his pre-cum filling your insides. 

“Oh god,” You panted out. “Magnūs, please.” Your nails were wrecking his back as he held you, his tail tickling in between your thighs for even more pleasure in your sensitive area.  

“Your turn, baby witch,” he cooed. “Cum all over my demon cock.”

You immediately did as he said, releasing so fucking quickly. The walls of your cunt tightened around his length, making you cry out. Your climax made your demon moan out, fucking you harder. With one last thrust, he shoved the rest of his cock into you, making you scream out in pleasure. You were fuller than you’d ever been in your life, and it felt amazing. The devil made a few erotic groans himself, shoving your hips down onto his dick to get the right angle for fucking you mindless. 

You could feel his balls, bigger than any you’d ever seen, slapping against your ass, leaving the most wonderful stinging sensation. His tail slowly snuck to your slit, tickling your electric spot while pounded into you. 

“It has been so long since someone summoned me,” he whispered huskily into your ear. “Thank you, angel.”

Just as he said that, he unloaded into you, your pussy being flooded with his cum. This time was more than the last and you screamed with pleasure, digging your nails into your back. The whole scene was hot enough that you immediately came around him, your walls clenching. The triple orgasm was better than any other man or toy could provide you. As soon as you finished, you slumped against his abdomen, panting heavily. 

The demon chuckled, slowly sliding his cock out of you and sinking to the ground with his back against the wall, still holding you. His dick had softened and you were laying over it now, enjoying the warmth. He was much warmer than any human man was, and it was an enjoyable sensation. He stroked your back with his claws, giving you a wonderful massage, while his tail rubbed up and down your legs. 

“You did wonderfully, pet.” he praised you, a purr coming from his mouth. 

You blushed, going to snuggle into him but pushing when you felt yourself stopped against his chest. You slowly reached a hand up and touched your head with wonder. “I…I have horns!” You exclaimed. 

“Did you read the terms and conditions at all, baby witch?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“No,” You admitted shyly. “You were just too sexy for me to care.”

Your demon laughed, kissing your forehead. “Don’t inflate my ego anymore than it already is, angel. But yes, there are certain terms and conditions. Your small, human body isn’t made to take a cock like mine, so my cum changes you to accommodate it. Look behind you.” he offered, giving your ass a smack. 

“I have a tail!” You said excitedly, stroking the new, pink addition to your body. 

The demon chuckled at how childlike with happiness you were. But he appeared a bit sad as he stroked your body up and down. “This isn’t permanent, angel. The summoning isn’t, so neither are the side effects.” he said, voice laced with sadness. 

“Wait…you mean I’m never going to see you again?” tears pricked at your eyes. 

You loved this demon with your whole heart and soul and you knew you were meant to be with him. That was the only explanation for everything that had happened this evening; the studying, the call to the book, the urge to summon this wonderful creature. 

“You can summon me whenever you like, pet. But the summoning only lasts an hour,” he smiled softly. “After that, I go back to the underworld and your body goes back to normal.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” You were beginning to cry. “I want to be with you. Please don’t leave.”

The demon petted your hair, kissing your face softly. “You’ll see me again, angel. Summon me whenever you like.”

You craned your neck and began to kiss him fervently, not wanting him to leave you. “Please, I need you.” You moaned. 

“Haven’t had your fill of me?” he chuckled, beginning to makeout with you. 

You continued to kiss, enjoying your new features, until the hour was up. You said goodbye to your demon, kissing his lips softly and promising to summon him again as soon as possible. But just as he was dissolving into the same purple smoke, he looked at you solemnly before speaking. 

“Calum. That’s my name, baby witch. Call me Calum.”

“Goodbye, Calum.” You whispered as he disappeared. 

Your tail and horns disappeared with your lover, leaving you fully clothed in the empty, stone room, just like before. You clutched your hands to heart, promising yourself that you would summon Calum again as soon as possible. 

✯ One Year Later ✯

You excitedly stood in your apartment, the same book from last year clutched tightly in your arms. This was the final time you would ever summon Calum for an hour. You both loved the wild, sexual nights, but you missed your demon during the day. You two had spent the last year practicing magic, with Calum’s getting just strong enough for him to pass as human for just under a year. He would be able to be his true form at home with you, but he had gotten so skilled that he would now be able to pass as your human boyfriend to your friends and family. 

You chanted the spell just like that Halloween last year, but this time, you used your demon’s real name when you called upon him–Calum Hood. The same purple smoke appeared just like all those times before, but when the fog dissipated, a “human” man stood in front of you. Calum was about 6’2”, with those kind brown eyes that you loved so dearly. He still had his luscious curls and beautiful tattoos, but the horns, claws, and tail were gone for now. 

He immediately swept you off your feet, spinning you around. “I missed you, baby witch.” he hummed, running a finger over your same pentagram tattoo. 

“I missed you more, Cal.” You sniffled, on the verge of tears as you realized you would get to see Calum every day now. 

You knew in your heart that Calum was still of the underworld, and that was what you loved about him, but you were ready for a new start. To be able to show off the soul you loved oh-so-dearly to the world. He would still have to go back to the underworld every now and then, but you were so happy you didn’t care. 

“Don’t forget that I’ll always be your demon.” he smirked as you buried your face in his neck, breathing in that same, sinful scent of cigarettes and cherries.    

[budo-bujo]

Intro to Literary Studies

This is my intro post for cyberstudious's masterpost jam challenge! I wanted to participate because 1) there doesn't seem to be a lot of representation for humanities in studyblr spaces and 2) there are a lot of misconceptions about literary studies as a field (what do you mean it's not just reading books all day?)(Well, it kind of is but not like you think!)

Disclaimer: I study contemporary "American"* literature and while I have very close contact with people in other fields in my program, I will inevitably be biased.

What is literary studies?

Literary studies is a general term that describes the study of literature very broadly. In the US, this is mostly housed in English departments**, but there are a lot of overlaps with fields like comparative literature, film studies, visual studies, etc.

Generally, I think people's views of what literary studies is is incredibly skewed by high school English classes or maybe some general education courses in college, but those classes do not paint an accurate picture of the field at an advanced level. Literary scholars are performing intensive research, not just teaching or reading books all day! I will say that I didn't even completely understand what an "English major" does academically until graduate school because the work is just on a completely different level.

What are notable career paths/organizations?

Most people who do literary studies are interested in traditional academic careers as professors. However, with the state of higher education in the US, those jobs are insanely competitive and very rare. Other "alt-ac" careers include publishing, academic administration, or other public humanities work. Many people also get concurrent or extra degrees in library and information science, book arts, digital humanities, education, or other fields which can additionally open up your career options.

From an academic standpoint, it's difficult to list specific journals/organizations since the field is so broad. One kind of universal organization in the United States is the Modern Language Association (MLA) (yes that MLA) which has several regional and one large conference every year along with a journal that is pretty much the pinnacle of the field. However, there are countless smaller journals, conferences, and organizations for every specialization that are way more accessible.

What are different fields/specializations?

There are generally two ways to describe what you study: Time period and special area. People often dabble in other things, especially post-PhD, and some people end up switching fields entirely. However, PhD's are about specializing and going deep, unlike a Bachelor's English degree which usually has students completing survey courses and going broadly through a lot of different areas. Here is some more detail about time periods and special areas.

Time period is pretty self explanatory. This is just the time period of literature that you study. Again most people read more widely than this, and we do have to have general knowledge of all of them, but picking one to specialize in is pretty much required. Here are common, incredibly general, ways of categorizing time periods with some example texts/authors***:

Medieval (pre-1400): This is things like Beowulf that require learning Old English and also Chaucer which is Middle English.

Early Modern (1500-1800): Also sometimes called the Renaissance especially for the early texts. This is your Shakespeare and Marlowe etc.

Early American/Victorian (1800-1900): This is where American literature starts to show up with your Hawthorne and Melville. This is also British literature like Dickens, Austen, Bronte, Shelly, etc. Romanticism is huge here.

Modernism (1900-1945): Modernism is more of a style than a time period that includes many non-literary works, but because it was so dominating during the interwar years it's shorthand for the time period. This includes Eliot, Hemmingway, Fitzgerald, Joyce, Woolf, etc.

Post-Modernism/Contemporary (1945-present): This is where things get silly in my opinion, because quite literally everything post WWII is generally referred to as contemporary literature. This is my area of specialty so I could go off on it forever, but just know it's a very, very broad time period (arguably the most broad because it's so undefined).

While again these time periods are very broad, the distinctions are pretty significant. It drives me nuts when I tell people I study literature and they ask me questions about Shakespeare! It's also why most people's understanding of "Classic Literature" is very silly. Putting Dickens, Chaucer, and Toni Morrison on the same list makes very little sense!

Special Areas are kind of the core of the field regardless of your time period. This is also where I think the misconceptions around what we do comes from. Special areas can pull from literally any other field alongside literature/literary studies itself, and many literature scholars these days end up becoming very skilled in history, political science, psychology, sociology, art history, film studies, religious studies, or really any other field as a method of complementing their analytical skills. We read A Lot, but so much of it is actually theory!

Some common areas of expertise you will encounter include: Race/ethnicity, ecocriticism, postsecular studies, regionalism, postcolonial/decolonial, book history, performance, sexuality/gender, Marxism, Deconstruction, psychoanalysis, and so many more. Literature provides an avenue to study pretty much anything else you want!

What are the biggest goals/questions?

As I've already described, literature can be used to answer pretty much any question you want. If I were to describe a single question, it would probably be something like "What do literary texts show us about social and cultural issues and vice versa?" This question is very broad, but so is the field! And it allows you almost infinite possibility on how you want to approach the literature.

The central skill to all of this is close reading. Close reading describes the ability to understand a text down to the level of the word and pull out meaning much deeper than a general surface-level reading. This is a skill that takes tons of practice and years of reading to be good at, but is something that anyone can learn how to do! If literature is something that interests you, this is the skill you need to learn to build. If you care about "critical thinking" or "media literacy," it's the same skills!

Conclusion:

That's all I have for now! I may or may not post more of these this week for the challenge, but I am always available to answer questions about literature! I love talking about this stuff!

*I put "American" in quotes because I mostly mean texts written/published within the United States, but that's a bit of a nebulous category. **To add on to my note about bias, this is coming from the perspective of a scholar in the US who mostly works in English. I'm sure the field has some nuances and differences in other languages/countries, but this is not meant to be exhaustive. ***Note that these time periods are very vague and also incredibly Anglocentric so please take them with a grain of salt.

[socstudies]

Hi, as someone who is going to be in their first year of college this fall, I'm curious about the note taking part

Is physical or digital note taking easier?

Is spending money on a laptop nessesary?

What is something you wish you would've done differently during your first year?

Do you have any advice?

If by any chance you see this, your blog and your aesthetic are amazing!

I'm wishing you a wonderful day/night.

If you do decide to reply, thank you in advance <3

helloo! sorry for the late reply & thank u for the ask! :)

ive tried both and i think i prefer handwritten notes, however they both have their pros and cons:

handwritten pros

proven to be better for retaining information

can't get distracted by other tabs

lighter to carry

costs less than a laptop

i've had some classes where we weren't allowed to use laptops so it's good to already be used to taking notes this way

cons:

much slower. sometimes i find im missing stuff and i have to go back to it at the end

have to print out diagrams etc if u want to include them

could possibly lose them, spill something etc

not enough space on desk for both laptop and notebook so u can't get slides up or google something

digital pros:

much quicker

easier to organise & pull up different notes at any time - u don't need to carry around or find older notebooks to be able to study or refer back to past classes

some people make notes directly onto the slides which u would have to print out if u wanted to do by hand

can also use for research and writing essays which u will need a computer for at some point so might as well do everything in one place

cons:

expensive

more stressful if u lose or break it

if u forget to charge it and u don't have paper .......

this upcoming year, im using a combination. most of the time i'll handwrite my notes, but for classes where they talk too quickly i'll type them (it's not worth the stress & extra time having to go back to recordings after). my notes for readings will be annotated straight onto the pdf. i'll be taking pictures of notes to put them all together.

---

unfortunately, i think it is because you'll need computer access to research and write ur essays, as well as to find course information etc. HOWEVER some universities (most?) have laptops that u can borrow and computers in the library, so if u know that you'll be motivated enough to get up and do all of ur work on campus, you could save this cost - bare in mind when u move off campus after first year it might be even harder. definitely look into this if cost is an issue for you! it doesn't need to be a fancy one if u do buy a laptop though, just remember u'll be carrying it around so don't get a super heavy one!

---

as for something i wish i'd done differently: as a sociology student, none of my classes have exams where i have to memorise things, instead it's all essay based. this led me to not 'study' i guess ??? like the stuff that i wrote my essays on, i knew like the back of my hand, but everything else i couldn't remember well. so if ur taking an essay based subject, remember that u still need to study a little & remember these things !! i was so overwhelmed tbh that i forgot about this oopsie!

---

extra advice:

when people say that after u skip one class, u'll skip the rest THEY. MEAN. IT. literally try so hard not to miss class bc you will never go again if u do. my classes would start off with not enough seats for everybody and end up with just a handful of us by the end of term.....

make time for urself !! it can become all consuming, especially if u live on campus, but pls make some dedicated time away from studying !!

u will find ur friends eventually. pls remember that it won't last or be that fun if u stick with friends who u don't have that much in common with just bc they were the first u met. tell me why i was going to bars and clubs with people in first term bc that;s what they wanted to do ????? it's ok to move onto different people bc u will eventually get tired of doing these things u don't like just to be able to hang out with people !! now i go to bookstores and cafes with my new friends and i love it!! don't settle !!

[chase-prairie]

I'm guessing that as a graduate student you have read a zillion and one documents and books and papers and things in your field. Would it be outrageous to ask for recommendations/your favorites? I'm really interested in learning more about the history of Native land use and food systems in the midwest (which I suppose is a very long history, I'd be happy learning about any time period), prairie ecology, and the current outlook for native plants and pollinators (and conservation recommendations). Even one recc for each would be amazing. Feel free to postpone this ask if you're too busy! P.S. can't wait to read your dissertation.

This is a big ask, and I get a lot of these types of asks! In the future it'd be nice if people were more specific about their interests and not asking about general, huge topics. There's a level that you can and should be googling yourself! Many academic papers are online for free through sites like academia.edu and I'm not a search engine!

General answer if you're interested in this range of topics is Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass. She comes from the midwest and writes some on prairie and the book is all about Indigenous science stewardship.

Otherwise, the topics you're asking for don't have one single source that will tell you everything you're looking for. People make small studies of one community, one ecosystem, one plant. Whether it's ecology or ethnobotany, there's no one making compendiums of info, especially not in the midwest. That's why I do the work I do, but even what I do is imperfect. Be suspicious of anyone who/any text that claims to be comprehensive on a huge, complex subjects; they probably are bsing you.

Indigenous Land Mgmt:

Two good recent papers:

The subject of indigenous wild management is more intensely covered in California (M. Kat Anderson) and Vancouver (Nancy J. Turner). Those two authors are great for both nuts and bolts chat and philosophical perspectives about how people have lived in and altered and restored their ecosystems.

A compelling academic book on the subject is Roots of Our Renewal: Ethnobotany and Cherokee Environmental Governance by Clint Carroll, which is just as much about philosophy, knowledge production and protection and community building, as plants.

Prairie Conservation Practices:

Like I said above, currently published stuff is about very specific interactions and focuses, like a particular pollinator group in a particular plant. What you're looking for, a generalist summary of the field, doesn't really exist.

If you're looking for plant lists and how-tos Tallgrass Restoration Handbook or the Tallgrass Prairie Center Guide. Do not go for Ben Voigt. If you're looking for a general conceptual entry to Midwest conservation/restoration, there's Ecological Restoration in the Midwest

If you're looking for general recommendations for free, Xerces.org is the resource for bee-friendly landscaping and planting.

If you live near a University or Arboretum or Botanic Garden, this is the kind of thing where you should just browse the shelves near the books I've recommended! Chances are you have free access to the libraries, if not the ability to check the books out yourself!

[legitimatesatanspawn]

You know, from an objective standpoint the Pokecenters from Black & White and Pokemon X & Y are the best in terms of in-setting user-friendliness even if I hate the design of XY's Center (too "modern").

There's plenty of seats for weary travelers and people waiting in the center for whatever reason. B&W has what look like a big ol' stack of pamphlets for tourists to look over. There's the Wondertrade and everything at the upper floor, the Pokemart is to the right.

With X&Y you have even more seating on both sides of the building. There's a whole wall of books that could be on anything or be a public library donation thing. Pokemart in the back with a full image display of their goods - presumably this is to show off whatever's on sale or a limited time item. In the back to the left is a dressing room which even setting aside the whole character customization is actually a really good thing in-universe as you have no idea who might've gotten hit by a stray attack or got caught up in an avalanche or something. An area where you can change clothes and maybe clean off a bit is a great idea!

Now we can assume all day long that there's a public access bathroom in any of the Pokecenters, especially in the ones that outright sell drinks beyond the marts (I'm looking at you Sun Moon and Sword Shield), but past XY it looks like they're just doing away with seating. Especially in the case of Scarlet Violet where it's a full on drive-in setup. I'm sure there's all kinds of reasons but I'd love to see more seating and character conveniences.

[txttletale]

i mean i can guess at a lot of it - maybe all of it - but could we hear the sid meier's civilization opinions you have so hinted at?

fuck yeah you can. alright so an easy one off the bat is that sometimes it is just manifestly racist in pretty obvious, surface-level ways. like, i think kongo's civ ability in civ vi (that they are preternaturally good at getting religiously converted) is a pretty good example of what i mean--that and a bunch of stuff from the older entries.

but (as ever) that sort of thing is significantly less interesting to me than the broader assumptions about reality baked into the game's core premises. so let's talk about some of those!

first of all, there is (unsurprisingly, it's a pretty loaded term) so much ideology packed into what 'civilization' considers 'a civilization'. like, let's talk about some of the things that are true about 'civilizations' in sid meier's civilization:

they settle cities

they each consist of one culture which is contiguous both geographically and temporally across thousands of years

each of these cultures is represented by one continuous state with complete top-down control

they 'progress' through a linear set of 'eras', with corresponding 'advances' in technological development & aesthetics

over the course of these eras, they expand territorially to exploit natural resources

they have standing armies

they have innate & deterministic competencies (unique units & buildings in earlier games, civ abilities in V onward)

other than the aforementioned unique units, they develop a certain set of universal technologies and institutions (ie, all civilizations will have access to and build a 'bank' or 'library' building)

they have 'hard' (rigidly defined, mutually exclusive, militarily enforced) borders

so--! off the bat, looking at the very first point--what about the mongols? what about the shoshone? what about the scythians? there is a clear normative ideological implication to say that in order for these historically nomadic peoples to be depicted as a 'civilization' they must be depicted as settling urban population centers--and it is the same normative implication that the rest of these points have, which is a very narrow view of what a 'civilization' is, a colonialist (at best) view of what lies outside 'civilization'

#2 and #3 have unfortunate synchrony with a lot of real-world national myths that obscure vast amounts of violence and destruction of culture in order to create a national identity--the idea of one coherent 'ancient greek' culture, for example, would have come as a very great surprise to the spartans and athenians. the idea of 'france' having a shared set of cultural traits would have definitely not been welcome to the bretons, normans, occitans, or any of the other regional identities that were violently suppressed over centuries to create the modern french nation-state.

#4--especially as combined with #7 and #8--really lays bare a lot of the colonialist assumptions at the core of the game. for example, if you play as the inca in any civ game, you'll have to research 'writing' and 'the wheel', technologies that the incan empire never relied upon, in order to 'advance'. this 'advancement' follows (a pop-history version of, obviously) chiefly the technological development of Europe and later the USA--this is falsely universalised out. and the idea of linear progression through levels of technological 'advancement' is very very explicitly a colonialist one--the idea that the peoples of subsaharan africa, the americas, australia, etc. were 'less advanced' than europeans was a key ideological pillar of colonialism!

it also very much plays into the 'Vanishing Indian' myth. for example, the aztecs get their unique unit in vi (the jaguar warrior) at the start of the game, in the 'ancient era'--at the same time that the gauls get theirs, the 'gaesetae'--and replacing the same unit! now in real life, the 'gaesetae' and the aztec triple alliance were well over a thousand years apart -- the jaguar warrior is more contemporaneous with the real-world basis of the 'conquistador' unit than it is with the gaesetae! in civilization vi, the major cultural innovations of 'the aztecs' are over and done with long before the innovations of 'rome' are--which must be a very great surprise to the millions of nahua people living in mexico now--and moreover is part of the mythologization of indigenous peoples as 'of the past', as precursors who vanished to make way for settlement, rather than people who were violently suppressed and still very much exist in the present day!

#5, #6, and #9 all fall under the same umbrella of both backdating and universalizing the model of the Western capitalist nation-state to all of history and the world. 'national borders' as they're currently understood didn't exist for most of human history--standing armies especially were an extreme historical rarity until the last couple of centuries--Western capitalism is certainly not the first social model to result in colonialism and extractionism but the particular attitudes and manifestations of this are certainly, again, unique to a specific part of the world in the last couple centuries. all these things are universalized out to apply to every single civilization in the game from the moment of their existence, something which some of the people depicted in these games have complained about!

ultimately this is all downstream of the concept of 'civilization', developed as it was as an intentional imperial project of 19th-century anthropology and history! and especially as formulated in samuel huntington's very bad and racist book 'the clash of civilization', which seems to have had a pretty major impact on the civ game's outlook on history (see edward said's critique of it)

and of course, once we get out of that, there's a lot to talk about--how the world of civilization is filled with indiscriminately violent 'barbarians' (!) who, unlike your fellow 'civilizations' have no technology or culture of their own, existing only to be massacred--how the game is structured around the assumption that one civilization will eventually 'win'--but this post is already long enough, so i'll leave those deeper critiques as an excercise to the reader.

oh, and--because a lot of people misinterpreted me on my silly little minecraft post and argued against a much stronger and less justified position that i did not in fact take--i do not think that sid meiere's civilization causes colonialism or imperialism!

in fact, i do not even think that 'colonialist ideology' causes colonialism. the order of operations (as it always does) flows down from historical and material conditions: it is economically advantageous to engage in colonial and imperialist exploitation -> ideological justifications are developed; the exploitation is narrativized and mythologized -> these narratives and mythologies embed themselves in the cultural imaginary and are replicated in media objects produced from that culture. i am never making the opposite case--if you argue with me as if i am you are shadowboxing.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Hey do you have any literature recommendations for people who want to broaden their knowledge on the classics and Greek/Roman myths without taking university courses?

So like for people (such as myself) who have read Bullfinch's Myths of Greece and Rome and Edith Hamilton's Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes but want to deepen their knowledge and maybe go to intermediate level type stuff. Or whatever the level above the mentioned literature is.

Well those two books are quite old and skip over quite a few things. Both are very important to our culture, historically, but I'd recommend reading through some more modern popular retellings like Stephen Fry's Mythos series if you're looking for pure entertainment and a dummy's guide to Greek myths.

The Penguin Dictionary of Classical Mythology is a useful reference book if you have difficulty keeping track of all these names and whatnot. It's just a reference book but you know. Having a reference book handy is quite useful. I personally prefer reference books when it comes to checking stuff when I'm doing mythology things anyways. They're generally more organized than the internet.

If you're looking for entertaining retellings of less popular myths, I'd actually recommend going to videos and podcasts for that. YouTubers like MonarchsFactory, Overly Sarcastic Productions, Jake Doubleyoo, and Mythology & Fiction Explained are all people who do a lot of research themselves on the myths they retell and I would recommend all of them to basically anybody. As far as podcasts go, Mythology & Fiction Explained has a podcast version and Let's Talk About Myths, Baby! is a very informative podcast that talks about sources for the myths and has interviews with experts on the subjects. It's also a podcast that is specifically Greco-Roman based.

As far as doing slightly more in-depth research, I cannot recommend theoi.com enough. I really can't. It has overviews of the most common myths, it has pages about god and hero cults, it cites it's sources and has an online library of translated texts. It's just really good. Go clicking around it for a while. It's a lot of fun if you're into that sort of thing.

As far as primary sources for myths go, there's a few places you could start. The Iliad, perhaps. The most recent English translation is by Caroline Alexander but I personally prefer Stanley Lombardo's translation. The Odyssey is a more accessible read in my opinion if you're not used to reading epic poetry. Emily Wilson's translation is especially accessible, written in iambic pentameter and generally replicating Homer's simple conversational language.

The third traditional entrance into the epic cycle of the surviving literature is the Aeneid. The newest translation of that is by Shadi Bartsch, which is pretty good, but it reads more like prose than poetry. Would still highly recommend it though. Robert Fitzgerald's translation is also good.

If you wanna get fancy you can read the Post-Homerica which attempts to bridge the gap between the Iliad and the Odyssey. It's not often read but it's one of the latest pagan sources we have from people who still practiced ancient Greek religion.

If you want a collection of short stories from ancient times, Ovid's your guy. Metamorphosis is specifically Roman and specifically Ovid's fanfiction, but it's also a valid primary resource and Ovid generally views women as people. What a concept!

Though I think the absolute best overview from ancient times itself is The Library aka Biblioteca by pseudo-apollodorus. Doesn't matter what translation you get. The prose is simple to the point where it's difficult to screw it up. Not artistic at all. It is, quite simply, a guy from ancient times trying to write down the mythological history of the world as he knew it. It has a bunch of summaries of myths in it, and most modern printings also have a table of contents so you can essentially use it as a reference book or a cheat sheet. I love it.

The Homeric Hymns weren't actually written by Homer but that's what they're called anyways. They're a lovely bit of poetry because, well, they were originally hymns. They've got some of the earliest full tellings of the Hades and Persephone story and the birth of Hermes in them. They also provide an insight into how ancient people who were most devoted to these gods viewed them. Go read the Homeric Hymns. They're lovely. You can buy the Michael Crudden translation or you can read a public domain translation online. I don't care. Just read them.

If you're into tedious lists, the next place I'd recommend you go after you read all the fun stuff is Hesiod's Theogony. Hesiod, the red pill douchebag of the ancient world, decided he was gonna write down the genealogy of all the Greek gods. That means lists. I'm not exaggerating. Be prepared for a lot of lists. But this work also has the earliest and one of the most complete versions of the story of Pandora, the creation of humans, and the most popular version of the Greek creation myth. So, it's very useful. If you can take all the lists.

The Argonautica aka the voyage of the argo by Apollonius of Rhodes, is also here. That is also a thing you can read. About the golden fleece and whatnot. And Jason. You know Jason. We all hate Jason.

Greek theatre also provides a good overview of specific myths. The three theben plays, Medea, the Bacche, etc. We've only got thirty-something surviving plays in their entirety so like... look up the list. Find one that looks interesting. Read it. Find a performance of it online, maybe. They're good.

If you want to dive into the mythology as a religion that was practiced, Greek Religion by Walter Burkurt and Ancient Greek Cults: A Guide by Jennifer Larson are pretty good books on the topic and often used as textbooks in college courses.

If you wanna get meta and get a feel for what the general public today thinks about Greek myths and what the average person that's sort of knowledgeable about Greek myths knows, the books you already mentioned are good. That's what people usually read. In addition to those, most people's intro to Greek myths generally involves The Complete World of Greek Mythology by Richard Buxton, D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths by Ingri and Edgar Parin d’Aulaire, or The Percy Jackson series.

I've been flipping through the big stacks of mythology books I keep on my table trying to remember if I've forgotten anything but I don't think I have so, yeah. Hope this helps. There's no correct starting point here. Once you get started there's a nearly endless void of complications and scholarship you can fall down that you'll never reach the bottom of. This post is basically just a guide to the tip of the iceberg.