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bucketbueckers · 29 days ago

Text

ONLY MINE

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: filth, azzi and reader are just down bad asf there's no real top just vibes, nipple play, ab riding, oral, teasing, freaked out as fuck, academic validation as aftercare, kinda short and not proofread 😕 i apologize to paige bueckers and paige bueckers only

wc: 5.3k

synopsis: After bombing your most recent thermodynamics quiz, you’ve been locked in and busy on practice sets and worksheets in preparation for the next one. Maybe a little too busy, in fact, because your girlfriend is feeling needy and neglected, and, well, who are you to deny her any longer?

notes: i am not an engineer. yes i spent 10 minutes scrolling through sample thermodynamics practice sets to find a word problem that appears once (1 time) in this fic. im not just committed to the bit. i am married to it. yaps aside, i am trying my hardest to be responsible and stay on top of my classes LMAO 😭 butttttt i hope you like this ⬇️ anon (and good luck on your finals goat)!! im working on time management so i definitely will not be writing as much as i used to but i am still chronically online. feel free to send in an anon to say hello but as always i hope y'all like this one and happy pazzi hard launch day to those who celebrate 🫶

Saturated liquid water enters an orifice at a pressure of 100 psia and is throttled to a lower pressure of 20 psia. Determine the outlet temperature (F) and the specific entropy difference (Btu/lbm-R) between the outlet and the initial status. Assume steady state, steady flow, negligible heat transfer, and negligible changes in kinetic and potential energy.

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hopelessly lost.

The word problem stares unblinkingly at you. You’ve been meticulously working through this problem set for the past five hours, only pausing to use the restroom, refill your water bottle (because apparently you hydrate really well when you don’t know what the fuck’s going on), and grab a healthy, energizing snack (a handful of Starburst), but it’s starting to feel like you’ve been staring at this worksheet for years.

You never really struggled this much with a class. Math, physics, chemistry, you name it – there was always a pattern that you were good at isolating and exploiting. It made solving problems a lot easier, but thermodynamics? Figuring it out was taking a lot out of you. To make matters worse, nothing seems to help, either. Not even your go-to tutors on YouTube who could explain quantum physics to a five year old with little difficulty.

At this point, you’re convinced it’s just some weird energy in the universe that has severed the connections between your brain cells. This couldn’t possibly be your fault. You bombed your thermodynamics quiz on Wednesday, which was strange because you’d walked into the lecture hall with the confidence of a man who was sure he knew where the clit was. Maybe you were a little tense – who wouldn’t be? You were juggling four classes, a TA position for a calculus course, and research into reaction engineering.

A heavy workload never deterred you, though. Not to the point of failing a quiz you thought you’d pass with flying colors. And nothing else had really changed for you either. Your routine was basically the same, you studied for the same amount of time, exercised and ate properly. Your girlfriend, Azzi, did have a string of away games that kept her out of Storrs for about a week and a half, but saying she’s the reason for your poor performance is kind of ridiculous, even if you do sleep better when it’s next to her or because she always listens to you ramble even if she has no idea what you’re talking about.

Now, Azzi is back, and she doesn’t have another away game for about two weeks. That’s a fact that would otherwise excite you, but you’re just trying to pass your classes. Your scholarship relies on your GPA, and without your scholarship, you might as well kiss UConn goodbye. You and Azzi were always intentional about understanding each other’s schedules. Basketball was demanding, possibly more demanding than engineering considering travel and recovery, so the both of you tried to maximize the amount of time you were able to spend together, even if it just consisted of Azzi quietly watching film next to you while you worked through your homework.

After burying your head in your hands, rubbing your temples, and reminding yourself of how sexy future you would look sitting courtside at one of Azzi’s WNBA games, chatting with the other WAGs like, “Oh, Dr. Fudd? Yes, that’s me,” you reach for your iPad with a deep sigh, rereading the word problem once more. Then you write down what you know. P₁ = 100 psia. P₂ = 20 psia.

Your hand stalls. You check the formula sheet, the swirl of letters and deltas and constants making your head ache. You blink again.

Your pen falls onto the couch cushion next to you as you heave another shuddering sigh, feeling like you’re about to crash out. You can’t fathom why this is so difficult for you.

Azzi’s voice is sudden, soft – it would otherwise startle you if you weren’t ready to be swallowed up by the ground and never return to earth. “I think you need a break,” she says, her voice coming from somewhere behind you, and you can hear the gentle footfalls of her sock-clad feet as she makes her way closer to you. Her hands find your shoulders, kneading gently, and you sigh again – this time in relief – as you melt into the couch.

“Can’t,” you mutter, grunting when her thumb catches on one of the knots. “I’ve already taken like…a million just from zoning out and losing my mind. Wasted enough time.”

You don’t have to see her face to visualize the amused, if not slightly concerned smile gracing her lips. “Are you not also wasting time by forcing yourself to work when it’s getting you nowhere?” she murmurs, her lips closer to your ear now. For that, you truly have no rebuttal, and she presses a lingering kiss to the edge of your jaw. Humming to yourself, you tilt your head, baring your throat, and her lips trace a deliberate path down the curve of your neck.

Her hands leave your shoulders, smoothing down your chest, and you intertwine your fingers together, getting lost in the heady scent of her perfume. You’d missed her – you really did. You and Azzi have been together long enough that you’re used to her having to travel a lot, but sometimes, it takes a little bit longer for your body to catch up and get the memo, too.

“Take a break,” Azzi whispers, her tone pleading, edged with a sort of neediness that makes you want to give in. You almost do – the warmth of her lips against your skin and the weight of her hands over your chest turning your brain into mush. “Let me take care of you. You’ve been so busy lately. You’re wearing yourself out.”

The first part of her statement has you ready to turn off your laptop and give Azzi whatever she wants from you. But the second? All it does is remind you about the quiz you’d just failed, the fact you have another quiz in less than a week, and how you’re not any closer to understanding the material. It sobers you instantly.

“Later,” you whisper, feeling a little guilty. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with Azzi – God, it’s all you’ve wanted to do since she got back to Storrs, but you knew you’d just fall into shitty time management problems if you didn’t get your work done.

“Babe,” Azzi complains, her tone exasperated and needy all at once. Her grip on you tightens ever so slightly, leaning fully against the couch to press her cheek to your temple. You fall back into her, your eyes slipping shut despite yourself.

“Sorry, Az,” you say apologetically, turning your head slightly to kiss the closest patch of skin you can reach, which happens to be the hinge of her jaw. She sighs softly, then brushes her lips across your forehead before releasing you. You miss the contact immediately but she makes her way to the front of the couch and sits down on the cushion next to you. Intertwining your fingers to get her attention, you squeeze her hand gently. She glances over, doe eyes wide, simmering with a heat and want that makes your stomach flip. “Let me finish this problem, then I’m yours. I promise.”

She crosses one leg over her knee, a petulant expression on her face as she sinks into the cushions. “Better be worth it, Dr. Fudd,” she grumbles, which makes you smile a little. You plant a chaste, innocent kiss on her lips, smirking when she chases after you. You release her, reaching for your pen and your iPad again, but you swear you hear her muttering under her breath, “Cockblocked by an engineering assignment. This is what I get for dating a smart person.”

Her indignance and impatience amuses you, which just motivates you to finish this problem as quickly as you can. You start over again, rereading the problem and isolating the facts that you know. You check your formula sheet again, struggling to find the one you need given what you have and what variable you want to solve for. All the while, you can feel Azzi’s gaze on you, dark and beseeching. It honestly makes it difficult to focus – knowing you have your very needy girlfriend sitting on the couch next to you and begging for one ounce of attention, but you know she’ll thank you later when you’re a super rich engineer and you build her a custom library in the house you’ll share together.

(Granted, she’ll be a super rich baller, so she wouldn’t exactly be hurting financially without you and she could get the library, but as long as you were around, you were committed to ensuring that Azzi wouldn’t have to lift a finger.)

Azzi allows you to struggle in peace. You make zero progress, just as she predicted. You read a few pages in your textbook. You watch a YouTube video on the process and still, you get nowhere. Already feeling a little frustrated, you try another approach.

But then Azzi’s palm finds your thigh. It breaks your focus immediately – not like it wasn’t already hanging by a thin thread – and you glance over at her, one brow raising in amusement. She doesn’t look the least bit remorseful about distracting you; in fact, she’s wearing a smug little smile that breaks down all of your defenses. “You promised, Az,” you remind her.

“You promised, too,” she declares. The confusion must be clear on your face because she explains, “Girlfriend code. You have a duty to give me attention.”

“Oh, do I?” you echo, biting your lip to stifle a smile.

Azzi’s dead serious, though. Her eyes meet yours, temptation laced in her pupils, a pout tugging at her lips. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to stand your ground against that, but you have to pretend to have some sort of academic responsibility.

“You do,” she confirms. “Agreed to it when you said you loved me, in fact.”

“I wasn’t aware that was in the fine print,” you respond, tangling your fingers with hers before she has the chance to inch her palm further up your thigh.

Azzi narrows her eyes at you. “Well, it is,” she insists. “And I want you.”

“Is that what this is about?” you murmur teasingly. “My girl needs me?”

Azzi nods, her expression a devastating mix of hopeful and needy, and it makes you ache. But you glance down at your iPad, at the word problem staring back at you — unsolved — and you hate yourself for what you do next.

You kiss her again, your free hand reaching to cup her jaw, and she melts into you instantly. You draw back just before it grows too intense, murmuring, “After this problem.” You’re sure that Azzi almost fucking growls, her brows drawing together tightly. In any other situation, you’d find it endearing, but you can’t help but feel guilty. You have work to do, and you know that Azzi wouldn’t let you rest until the sun is in the sky again. “Sorry, baby.”

But Azzi is out of rationale — and patience. She leans away from you long enough to shut the lid of your laptop on the coffee table, then she yanks your iPad out of your hands. It lands somewhere on the far end of the couch as your pen clatters harmlessly onto the floor, rolling somewhere out of view, and you hardly have the time to react before Azzi straddles you in one quick motion. Her lips are on yours immediately. You gasp, hands reaching out to grip her hips, and she swallows the moan that tumbles from your mouth.

Her hands are around your neck, drawing you in closer to her, yours roaming across her sculpted thighs, tightening in the loose fabric of her shorts. They ride up on her legs the more she presses against you and you take advantage of the miles upon miles of tanned skin laid before you. It makes you keen, sighing into her mouth, and Azzi slips her tongue inside, brushing against yours.

It’s all heat from there — Azzi’s hips roll against yours in a slow, methodical grind, her fingers trailing down your chest to tangle in the hem of your shirt. She breaks away from your mouth, lips swollen, spit-slick and urgent as she mutters, “Off, please.”

You don’t have the words to deny her, not that you would in the first place. Not when you can feel the heat of her core against your thigh, the dampness that’s seeped through her underwear and shorts all at once. Pulling away from her, you raise your arms, allowing her to pull your shirt off, intent on getting your hands back on her, but Azzi stops you with a palm to your chest — your bare chest, having neglected a bra for comfort that morning.

Her eyes are glazed over, pupils dark and wanting. The way she stares shamelessly would make you feel insecure and vulnerable if you weren’t able to read the desire in her features, the way her jaw goes slack at the sight of you. It’s not new — Azzi has seen you in various states of undress over the course of your relationship. A sheer bikini on cruises, in nothing but her jersey and a flimsy pair of her boxers, or as naked as the day you were born. It doesn’t matter how many times Azzi has sat upon your lap with your breasts cupped in her hands like she’s holding the world in her palms – she thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, and if you had any sensibility, you’d probably ask, “Has she seen herself?”

Not wanting to be alone in your nakedness, you reach for the hem of Azzi’s shirt, glancing up at her through your lashes for permission. She nods quickly and you don’t waste anymore time before pulling the dark blue shirt off of her, your own jaw going slack as you take her in. She’s all muscles and tanned skin, firm sinew in most places yet soft in others. You want to get your hands on her immediately, so you do – pressing heatedly against her stomach, grazing her belly piercing and the curve of her waist, pulling her flush against you like you can’t get enough of her skin against yours.

She reaches for your wrists to pull your hands off of her body. You make a noise of protest, but she silences you with a deep kiss, insistent and hungry as she shifts to the side, tugging you down on top of her now as she positions herself against the pillows and the armrest at the end of the couch. The change has your head spinning, especially when Azzi pushes her knee between your legs, the muscle of her thigh dragging against your clit in a way that’s almost devastating.

Your entire body is pulsing, suddenly aware of the need building in your body. It feels like it’s taken root in your bones. Like all you’ve needed these past few weeks were Azzi, not anything else. And judging by the way her fingers slip under the waistband of your sweatpants, pressing firm against your skin and tugging the restricting material down? Azzi is more than willing to give herself to you – in whatever way you need it.

You try to grind down onto Azzi’s thigh, searching for the contact, but she takes your hips in your hands, perching you precariously over her body, only inches away from what you need. You break away from her lips long enough to brush your mouth across her jaw, finding her ear to beg, “Please, Az, need it.”

A smirk curls her lips, slow and smug. The tables are turned now – she’d spent so long asking for you to put your assignment down, and now you’re the one pleading for her to touch you. Azzi is a competitor by nature. You may never truly understand how much she enjoys watching you break beneath her.

“Where have I heard that one before?” she murmurs, dragging heated kisses across your chest, lips wrapping around a nipple as you open your mouth. Your next words get caught in your throat, a moan taking its place, and you curl a hand around Azzi’s neck, pulling her closer to you.

“‘M sorry, baby,” you gasp in between stuttered breaths, your hips twitching when she bites gently at your bud. Azzi hums against you, sending vibrations up your spine as your body arches into her mouth and her wandering hands. Remembering where you are, you allow your hands to drop from Azzi’s neck down to her waist, fingers hooking into the band of her shorts. “Lemme make it up to you,” you plead, trembling with need. You want so badly to pull these shorts off of her, but she hasn’t given you the all clear yet. You may be the one on top and the one who wants to please her, but if she wasn’t going to allow you, there was little you could do.

“I wonder if I could make you come like this,” Azzi mumbles instead, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and one of her hands reaches up to rub the spit across the bud while her lips trail to the other one, biting gently to make you shudder. Your breath catches, hips still hovering overs hers. “Dripping all over me while I take my time. Do you think I could?”

“Fuck,” you whimper, arching into her hands again, moaning when she pinches you with the right amount of pressure to send white hot desire to your core. Your head falls onto her shoulder, fingers abandoning her waistband to brace yourself against the couch cushion for stability. “Whatever you want, Az, just make me come – please.”

It wouldn’t take much. You’re already worked up, both from Azzi’s efforts and the stress of the week melting away into something softer. You hadn’t realized how much you truly needed this – the break away from your homework to breathe and just be. But you feel Azzi’s smile growing against your skin, her tongue poking out from her lips to circle your nipple, before she whispers, “Another time, maybe,” and she pulls you onto her bare stomach.

The first press feels like fire. It punches a gasp out of you, pleasure and relief coursing through your veins in simultaneous streams. Azzi’s abs are firm, inviting, and you rut against them desperately, needing to get off. Your aching clit catches against the piercing on her navel and a wrecked moan spills from your lips. Azzi’s muscles contract, providing you with a harsher slide, and your eyes all but roll into the back of your head when she carefully bites down on your nipple, her fingers rolling the other.

The free hand not occupied with your chest curls around your waist, helping pull you down against her. Eventually, Azzi begins to control your pace as you’re struggling to keep yourself up, and the sensations are overwhelming in the best way possible. You’re impossibly wet, sliding against Azzi’s stomach with little resistance, angling your hips to get the best friction against your clit. You wrap your arms around her neck, tears pooling in your eyes because it feels so good, and holding on is all you can do, moaning breathlessly into her ear.

Azzi pulls away from your chest with a wet noise, her lips swollen and slick, eyes glazed over with want. It makes you breathless for an entirely different reason now. You’re the only person who gets to see Azzi like this, needy and determined to make you fall apart. You were the first, but to know that you’re also the last? You will your hips into a firmer grind, the slight possessiveness making your head spin.

But then she releases you, something dark, smug, but also reverent clouding her expression. “Take it,” she murmurs, leaning back against the armrest slightly. She’s no longer holding you up by the hips, but her hand lingers at your chest, tweaking and pulling your bud until it juts out firmly, wet with her spit. “You wanted this so bad? Show me. Take it.”

Groaning, you tighten your grip on her shoulders, pressing yourself further against her body for stability as you rock into her. Her face is screwed up, sweat beading at her temples, and you can’t be sure if it’s from the heat of the room or from the sheer determination of clenching her abs. Either way, you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to hers, swallowing her indulgent moan as you chase your high.

Her piercing catches against your clit again, causing you to lose your rhythm momentarily. Azzi bites your lip once in warning as she orders, “Faster.” Your thighs and core burns from the exertion, but the desire coursing through your veins motivates you. When your pace returns to her liking, she rewards you with a blinding smile and a “So good for me, baby. You wanna come?”

You nod shakily against her, forehead pressing into hers, and she kisses you once more – slow, lingering, filthy like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste when you’re desperate for her. Azzi takes your hips in her hands again and she aids in your rhythm, pulling you onto her harshly, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm until a cry rips from your throat. “So close, Az,” you whine, meeting her eyes. They’re more black than brown, her pupils blown wide, and the sheer need reflected there makes you weak. “Please, please, please, Azzi.”

“Let go,” she murmurs, her voice dangerously sweet compared to the way she’s dragging you across her stomach. “Take what you need. Gonna give it to you, you know that.”

And that’s all you need. You rut against her once more, twice, your jaw dropping with pleasure, body tingling as you fall apart over her. You press your lips to hers to silence your cries and she swallows each and every whimpered sound like it energizes her. She’s still guiding you, her movements slowing now, letting you ride out the aftershocks as you come back down to earth. You’re a little boneless, your forehead pressing to her clavicle, and she ghosts a kiss across your temple as she rubs your back soothingly.

Clearly, Azzi can’t seem to help herself, because she presses a smile to the crown of your head as she jokingly mutters, “So much better than homework, right?”

You roll your eyes, laughing, and you try to not think too hard about the fact that your throat feels scratchy and rough. “Much better,” you agree, feeling the weightlessness and ease seep into your bones, something deliciously heavy and comforting that makes you feel refreshed. New. “You’re so needy. Couldn’t wait twenty minutes.”

Azzi gasps indignantly. “I’ve waited like, two weeks!” she exclaims, nudging you halfheartedly. “A girl has needs, you know.” She says this last part with a snooty raise of her nose, which makes you shake your head, giggling again as you press a chaste, innocent kiss to her lips. She chases after you when you pull away, but the distance makes her eyes narrow, brows pulling together like she’s just realized something. “You couldn’t wait either. It was all ‘please, Azzi,’ this, ‘make me come, Azzi,’ that. You’re dirty.”

That makes you lean away from her, disbelief in your features. “Me?” you echo, aghast, fully aware that the both of you are arguing like toddlers at this point. “You’re dirty. You made me ride your abs–” Azzi raises a challenging brow which has you backtracking immediately. “Okay, I don’t know about made me. That was really hot, by the way.” You punctuate your point with another kiss, one that lasts not nearly long enough so you can get back to the point you were trying to make. “Also, you should probably disinfect your piercing.” Azzi hums, arms curling around your waist, and she ghosts her lips across your collarbone as you continue to defend yourself. “Either way, you’re still dirty.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything. She glances at you with an amused grin, then glances down at her stomach, where she glistens from a mixture of your slick and her sweat. Mostly your arousal, though. A flush creeps up your neck at the sight. You hadn’t registered how soaked she was. Having made her point, she swipes her finger through the mess, raising it to the light as if inspecting it. “You did this and I’m the dirty one?”

“Yes,” you deadpan, but the corners of your lips quirk up with amusement. Her smile softens, but morphs into one of confusion when you slide down her body, knees pressing into the cushions in between her legs. “Let me make it up to you?” you offer, palming her thighs, fingers slipping under the waistband of her shorts once more. You can tell that her breathing has picked up, her mood shifting as easily as you crawled down.

“Yes, please,” she affirms, lifting her hips to help you pull her shorts and boxers down in one quick motion. You groan to yourself when her cunt is revealed to you – she’s soaked, her arousal having seeped into the cotton of her boxers, and you press a quick kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never,” you lie, and then tease her anyways. You avoid her cunt completely, opting to lick a thick stripe across her stomach, gathering the slick pooled there on your tongue.

It makes her hips jump up, her voice pitched and a little breathless with shock as she mutters, “Shit, baby…” You smile to yourself, glancing up at her through your lashes, taking in her wrecked expression and the way her pupils are blown wide. Azzi is gripping onto the couch cushion like she’s teetering on the edge of falling apart already.

You don’t stop until her stomach is clean. Before you can settle between her thighs again, she grabs you by the shoulders, hauling you up until she can kiss you again. Azzi deepens the kiss immediately, her tongue searching for yours, for the taste of you, and the moans greedily as you squeeze her hips.

When she breaks away for air, her chest is heaving, and she looks ruined, ready for you to give her what she’s been craving for two weeks. You plant a farewell kiss at the edge of her jaw before trailing your lips down her body, sucking hickeys into her skin, soothing each one with your tongue.

Finally, you reach her cunt, and the sight of her spread out before you makes your mouth water. She tangles her fingers through your hair, guiding you closer, and you don’t make her wait any longer before you kiss her clit gently, smiling when her hips buck. Your tongue swipes through her soaked folds, her body shuddering when you moan indulgently into her, and you wrap your arms around her thighs to keep her stabilized.

You fuck her like you’re starved – which you may as well be. Your nose brushes against her sensitive clit with every motion you make, making her cry out, her hand pushing you to the spot she likes as if you don’t know her body like the back of your hand. Still, you listen to the direction, allowing her to pull your head towards her clit. You suck it into your mouth, cheeks hollowing from the pressure, rubbing the broad side of your tongue over it when she moans softly.

Her thighs enclose around your head, the pleasure causing her hips to buck wildly, and this? You could die here, in between her legs, and you wouldn’t even be able to think of a better way to go out. Azzi’s cries are like music to your ears, her taste like nectar.

When her fingers tighten in your hair, her hips beginning to gyrate in search of her high, you press a little further into her, allowing her to grind against your tongue. Your hands rub soothing patterns against her abdomen, eyes slipping shut at the sound of her moans, and before you know it, she’s whining, “Close, baby.”

You take her free hand in yours, squeezing gently as her body trembles, and she holds onto you as she comes, her body melting into the couch cushions as you work her slowly, helping her come back down. You know Azzi gets oversensitive fast, so you listen for her cues, letting up on her when it becomes too much. Drawing back, you plant one last kiss to her thigh, her navel, her collarbone, then to her lips, where you feel her smile grow against you.

You smooth out her hair by her forehead where a few of the strands have escaped from the tie. Her eyes blink open, her gaze impossibly tender, her smile soft. It makes you fall a little bit further in love with her, which is probably a feat in and of itself. “Okay?” you whisper.

She turns her head to kiss your wrist. “Okay,” she confirms, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you flush against her. Then, in a quieter tone of voice, she confesses, “Missed you.”

You kiss her cheek, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. “Missed you too, Az,” you respond. “Never travel for two weeks ever again.”

She laughs gently, her nails skirting across your skin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The both of you fall into a calm silence until you break it. “I’m sorry I neglected you,” you say genuinely, feeling a little remorseful. “I just wanted to get my work done, but I think I got a little too obsessive about it. You were right to say I wasn’t getting anywhere with it.”

“You know I understand your schedule,” Azzi says softly. “You have a lot to do. I just needed you.” She doesn’t say much else – and she doesn’t need to. That’s just the truth.

You smile a little as you kiss her jaw. “I know,” you murmur. “I’ll do better.”

She tightens her arms around you. “Good. You can start by helping me into the bathtub and ordering takeout.”

That makes you laugh, your nose brushing against her cheek. “Yes, ma’am.” The room goes quiet again, nothing but the gentle hum of the AC and your breathing filling the space. The drag of Azzi’s fingers against your skin lulls you into a sense of peace, the pressure alleviating from your shoulders, and –

You pause. Your eyes blink open, your gaze falling onto your iPad. Pressure?

Saturated liquid water enters an orifice at a pressure of 100 psia and is throttled to a lower pressure of 20 psia–

You close your eyes in disbelief, the gears in your brain turning at rapid speed. You’re so fucking dumb.

“Az,” you murmur. She hums, letting you know she’s listening. “Can I start a little later?”

“What?” she mutters, but you’re already reaching over to the coffee table, grabbing your iPad and the pen that had rolled under the table leg. Azzi sighs dramatically as she watches you open it, but she presses a smile to the crown of your head as you work through the calculations. It only takes you about a minute, but you circle your answer with finality, latching the pen to the magnet on the device and closing it. “An orgasm was all it took to get that brain working, huh?”

“Maybe,” you admit a little sheepishly.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she says with faux indignance, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

And all you can do is stare at her, a soft little smile on your face. Because you are. You really, really are.

#azzi fudd #azzi fudd x reader #azzi fudd smut #uconn wbb #ncaa wbb #Spotify

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roboticchibitan · 10 months ago

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I used to work at JoAnn's and let me give you a tip. Don't buy fabric there if you can help it. It's overpriced low quality crap. You can absolutely find fabric for just as cheap online and if you're a "have to touch it before I know if I'll hate it or not" person lots of online places sell samples.

Case in point: Robert Kaufman Kona solids. I've seen claims online that the Kona solid quilting cotton, which is the highest quality quilting cotton solids JoAnn's sells, is different and lower quality than the Kona cotton you can get at a quilt shop. I can't speak to the validity of those claims but I 100% would not be surprised if it were true. But let's set that aside and just see how JoAnn's prices measure up.

As you can see, the regular price at JoAnn's is $9.99. The regular price at this random quilting online store I spent 20 seconds on duckduckgo to find is $7.95. Sure, the sale price is 15¢ cheaper at JoAnn's. But JoAnn's is constantly playing this "our fabrics are cheap because they're on sale! Don't look at how much they regularly cost anywhere else" psychological warfare game which I do NOT appreciate.

I'm sure if you looked harder than the 20 seconds I spent on duckduckgo you could find Kona cotton for cheaper than JoAnn's has it and you wouldn't have to wonder about the quality claims. And all their fabric is like this. Maybe a decade ago it was a good deal but now? There's a reason they've gone bankrupt.

Just because I could, I compared fabric wholesale direct's price for solid color polyester Jersey knit fabric, which is regularly priced at $5.99 and is currently on sale for $5.09. JoAnn's comparable fabric starts again at $9.99/yard and that fabric is currently on sale for $6.99. There are 10 colors of the JoAnn's $6.99 fabric and 45 colors of the FWD $5.09 fabric FWD does free shipping over $99 and flat rate shipping at $7.95 for anything below that. Depending on how much you buy, you'll potentially be paying the same or less for the FWD fabric and 1. It's probably higher quality and 2. There's 4 times as many color options.

JoAnn's is good for if you need less than a yard and have the time and ability to go to the store in person. And yeah, if you're shopping in person, you don't have to pay shipping. But the quality of all their fabric is low and the "sale" prices are around the same as a place with higher quality fabric.

I buy embroidery floss and thread at JoAnn's cuz embroidery floss is cheaper in person than on DMC's website and you can't trust product photos of thread to be color accurate. And I buy sewing notions there sometimes cuz it's convenient. But even the scissors I spent $30 on there a decade ago (who knows how much they are now) were $17 at Walmart when I lost the first pair and had to replace them 4 years later.

Also they treat their employees like shit and currently no one besides store managers gets health insurance through them because the only full time position in their stores is the store manager. And even before the bankruptcy they shortstaffed and did everything in their power to avoid paying for benefits and overtime. It was the worst job I ever had and that's saying something because I worked at Walmart and had a "this creepy guy went to JAIL over what he did to me" experience there.

#v gets educational instead of just being a hater #(ok I'm partly being a hater but I HAVE RECEIPTS)#v's fiber arts tag #sewing

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carriesthewind · 8 months ago

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Happy Long Weekend: This is Your Reminder to Review Your Sample Ballot In Advance of the Election

Hello fellow USAians!

It is October 13! The election is just over three weeks away!

I'm assuming you know who you are voting for in the presidential race.

But do you know who you are voting for on the downticket races? Is there a senate race? Who has your vote for congressional representative?

Are there judges, on your ballot? State representatives? Is there a governor's race? Other statewide office? What about local elected officials - what about the school board?

Do you know who the candidates are? Do you know what their qualifications and policy positions are, or, if that information isn't available, can you find information from which you can make reasonable inferences? (But seriously a 10-minute internet search can provide invaluable information.)

If there is an office where multiple seats are open (usually portrayed on the ballot as "vote for up to X"), is there a strategy to try to keep someone particularly bad out, or get someone particularly good in? (Whether that's a your own thoughtful voting choice (god), you + your friends/acquaintances/book club (better), or an organized local strategy (best)).

Are there ballot measures/state constitutional amendments/etc on your ballot? Do you know what they are? Have you read them? Have you taken a glance to see what subject matter experts/stakeholders/advocates/activists/etc think on the subject?

Please take the time to review your sample ballot before it's time to vote, so you can make informed choices in your downballot votes - where very low number of votes can often make a real difference.

#election 2024 #american elections

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thenixart · 3 months ago

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[id: Three images: a banner and two pictures listing prices with sample artwork. The banner reads 'The Screaming Emu' in orange across a blue, black, and green bird monster.

The second image shows Andalite heads in varying levels of detail with prices listed: $10 for a sketch, $15 for line art, $20 for line art with flat colors, and $25 for line art with full coloring and shading.

The third image shows a dragon standing upright with lines marking off segments of its body listed with prices: No additional charge for the head, +$10 for a bust up drawing, +$15 for a waist up drawing, and +$25 for a full body drawing. /end id]

Hey! My commissions are open. For a lot of reasons I need more money than I’m currently able to make at my job. I would be incredibly grateful if you commissioned me.

Contact me via private message or ask through @thenixart or via my email: [email protected]

Payments through Paypal or kofi (ko-fi.com/nixkat > accepts card payment). Products are digital and will be emailed in .png format unless otherwise specified.

Extras!

-Additional characters are $5 per character. -Simple backgrounds like colored rectangles or circles or polka dots cost nothing. Complex backgrounds are $15. -Saucy/Suggestive art (T&A mostly and some kinks) has an additional charge of $25

I draw:

-Monsters, aliens, fantasy creatures -Animals and Furries/Anthros -Humans

I do not draw:

- Genitals, Body fluids, Sexual Acts - Incest, Pedophilia, Sexual Assault/harassment

Art examples:

[id: A digital painting of two women, one tall Black and with red hair and one shorter white and prematurely gone grey, on a hike in a birch-maple forest in autumn. They are on a wood planked path with a split in the path in front of them. The taller woman holds a map folded in one hand and points at the path directly in front of them while the shorter woman looks at her and looks to be speaking. /end id]

[id: A drawing of the head and neck of the titular Kaiju no. 8. The monster is mostly black with his scaley skin and armor plates being different shades. He has bright blue exposed tendons and connective tissues on parts of his neck and mouth corners. The front of his head is a white, horned, skull-like face./end id]

[ID: A simple drawing of Laios Touden from Dungeon Meshi as a wolfman-type werewolf with a tail. He’s drawn from the hips up and wearing his plate armor. /End ID]

[id: Digital art of a a dark grey spotted dragon posed mid landing from a leap against a grey background with a peach square behind the dragon framing it.

The dragon has a purple head with glowing green eyes. Its wings are very large with paler grey membranes. Its tail is forked and the end is pink with the prongs glowing pink. /end id]

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indiiglow · 3 months ago

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WHAT!!! IS WRONG WITH Y'ALL!!!!!!

#*distress*#like what- but- that ruins the song???#wh. there's a reason that I very rarely listen to one of my favorite songs ever #bc if I were to obsessively listen to it on loop it'd lose all of its magic??#like by the second listen I'd be like yeah it's still cool ig... and then by the third I'd just. stop vibing with it #okay admittedly maybe it's also because I give myself hearing damage every time I listen to it #and this is absolutely not a song issue okay I am talking about the BEST of songs out there that's just how my brain functions #utterly cursed to listen to it on repeat UPWARDS OF 10 TIMES. WHAT IN THE HELL. FREAKS!#btw pls reblog for a bigger sample size thanks 😊

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beemovieerotica · 1 year ago

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transphobes & conservatives throw around the "80% of trans children desist" statistic, and it comes from the average of a few quantitative studies that did produce those numbers

and they're relying on people to not have the knowledge to actually dig into these things, analyze the statistics, and question the methodologies in a scientific way

if you're curious at all how to debate these claims when people bring it up, i've summarized a meta-review below:

the biggest, most glaring issue of these studies is sample size and participant selection -- Baer Karrington, MD opened up these papers and found that one of the 4 studies (yes, the 80% number comes from the average of 4 studies, as of 2022) had identified nearly 300 eligible participants and then selected 132 of them, and we don't know why.

it's normal to screen out participants for psych & medical studies for any number of reasons, but you have to be completely transparent about why you're excluding them - and the researchers never told us. we can't know if you deliberately or subconsciously chose people who would confirm your hypothesis, which calls into question the data you collected.

another study was unable to contact 24 of the original participants out of 77, and then automatically classified the uncontactable participants as desisters. this isn't good science. i'm hesitant to even call it science.

the third study didn't list how many participants were included, but the assumption is that it was 10 people.

the fourth study had 25.

and across all of this research into desistance, including dozens of non-quantitative studies, case studies, and interviews, the researchers give us different definitions of desistance

(wouldn't the most important part of a cohesive argument against childhood gender affirming care be a mutually understood definition of desistance)

included under the definitions of desisters are:

adults who decide to stop HRT for any reason. this includes children who underwent the puberty of their choice and then ceased medical intervention in adulthood, without ascertaining if the reason was that they were satisfied with their body post-treatment, or if they had or intended to de-transition back to a body reflecting their birth sex

people who may have initially begun as binary transgender but settled on a non-binary or gender expansive identity. one former trans woman is identified in the research as now going by they/them and ceased HRT, and the studies do not reach a consensus on whether non-binary identities are included in the transgender non-desisting category, or if it is considered desistance

children for whom medical transitioning is stopped at any point - with obvious difficulties around determining whether was initiated by parents or truly the child's wishes

people who never received medical intervention and no longer experience gender dysphoria in adulthood, regardless of whether they have socially transitioned, changed their name, or engaged in non-medical affirmations of identity

children who decide not to medically transition. yes, that's it. they have desisted by virtue of not seeking medical intervention for the way that they conceive of their identity

and the issue with qualitative studies is that doctors are specifically reporting on people who have come to them seeking their help, and while their stories are important, and desistance does happen, you cannot draw actionable statistics from a self-selecting pool of people

the bottom line is that we have a double digit number of subjects across four questionable quantitative studies that gives us the repeatedly quoted 80%, and this is supposed to predict how several million children around the world will operate - and that's not how science works

#trans rights #lgbt rights #lgbtqia

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borkunlimited · 4 months ago

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Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 3

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

3: My Dearest, Playful

Perhaps it started with the little notes.

When Sylus gradually shifted from his previous tailor to you, it was supposed to be a simple business transaction. A seamless transition as you become his lead tailor. A trade where he will pay and he will receive the clothes in return.

Your father was very confident with your skills and one look at the samples your father has laid out in front of him is enough for Sylus to know you have unparalleled talent when it comes to design and sewing.

He didn’t question what you and your father are doing here in the N109 zone even if your kind should not be here at all. There is already a fair share of artisans and any brilliant minds for that matter like you who chose to settle here for various reasons.

Debt.

Crime.

Humans.

The list goes long.

When his first request from you arrived, he was more than pleased. Inside the dark cardboard box laced with red tissue paper was the business attire he had commissioned from you. From the embroidery, the fabric, and the measurements, you were able to capture everything just as he imagined it.

But what tops everything is the little note at the bottom of the box.

“Thank you, Mr. Sylus.”

Neat handwriting. A simple thanks signed with your first name and a cute drawing of a smiling deer.

He didn’t write a response to that message and instead sent a bouquet of roses after that. Afterall, he knows when to acknowledge effort when he sees it.

Then it became a game. At least for him. A back and forth.

Every time you send over a box, he will always find these little notes at the bottom, always a note of gratitude.

“Thank you for the flowers, Mr. Sylus.”

“The hairpin is very lovely.”

“Father and I had a wonderful night.”

Oh, he remembered that night quite well. It was the night where he finally laid eyes on his shy and elusive tailor that he only saw before through the optics of Mephisto.

So many well-dressed people that evening. The opera has a good ensemble of music and a capable orchestra but his gaze was only trained at you the entire time.

Who would have known?

You are much lovelier in person. Even if you are a good distance away from him.

Now, he gets to appreciate that beauty up close.

“Skye, what brings you here?”, you asked him, tilting your head slightly at him. You had your hair up and Sylus’ gaze lingered on your neck and in the skin not covered by the collar of your blouse, beads of sweat trickling down.

As usual, Mephisto is here (Again) and currently perched at your antlers while you carry boxes of clothes for delivery from your studio to the receiving area. The bird really does love your company so much.

“Just wanted to check on my boss’ favorite tailor,” Sylus replied, a hint of amusement in his voice towards the fact it is becoming too easy to switch on this new persona around you as time passed by. “Where’s your father, sweetie?”

Of course, Sylus knows the answer to that already even before he stepped inside your shop, fully aware that your father had left you by your lonesome today to go to the nearby hospital for his check-up.

Sure, he always had Luke and Kieran watch over you despite being fully aware none of your clients will do anything stupid when inside your shop but he isn’t going to take his chances today.

Besides, this is the perfect chance to spend time with you without having to deal with your father’s subtle fearful gaze.

The fear is understandable, he supposed. A deer and a dragon together in one room? That usually spells disaster if you and him are outside the N109 zone.

A disaster that usually ends in the front page of the newspaper.

“Oh, he went to the hospital for a check-up, Skye,” you smiled at him and you were about to pick up another box when he beat you to it, his hands gently covering yours and then carrying it himself.

“You don’t have to-”

“Let me, sweetheart.”

“Mr. Sylus might think I am turning you into my errand boy.”

“Don’t worry, darling, consider it as me being a gentleman,” he answered, his tail wrapping around your waist while you walked back with him to the receiving area.

He would do anything you ask without complaint.

Lovesick. Utterly smitten. He should have talked to you long ago, to relish being accepted by you who worries over his being than over the possibility of being mauled to death by him.

His response is rewarded with a smile from you. They aren’t as bad as your fellow hybrids and even humans claim they are.

Dragon hybrids.

Wolf hybrids.

Or any hybrids that take into the traits of any carnivore.

If anything, Skye, the twins, and the other residents here in the N109 zone have been very accommodating to you so far despite your differences. Perhaps it is possible, all of you hybrids living in solidarity.

“How can I make it up to you, Skye?”, you asked, watching him set down the box with the others. Simon, the canine hybrid delivery boy, should be here any minute now to pick them up and bring them to your clients.

“Is a kiss too much to ask?”

Sylus meant it as a joke, to tease you, just so he can see your adorable blush but a part of him secretly hopes you will give it to him just like how you give it freely to Mephisto and the twins.

You tilt your head at him, as if surprised with his request that was immediately replaced with a soft smile.

What are you doing?

He looked down at you, slightly confused (and perhaps, amused) when he saw you cock your head slightly upwards with your eyes closed.

You are waiting for him to do something.

Is this what he thinks it is?

“And what is this for, sweetie?”, he asked, his breath hitching upon realizing your position.

You are going to let him take a kiss.

You tapped on your forehead, “Here. This spot.”

It was good you specified where at least but even if you don’t, he has half a mind that there are things he shouldn’t take without your permission.

These are one of the rare occasions where Sylus’ self-control slips for a fraction and he has to remind himself he is supposed to be playing the role of ‘Skye’. One of Mr. Sylus’ henchmen as you said.

He studied your face briefly, looking for any signs of doubt but there is none. Are you teasing him back? No, it doesn’t look like it.

You are actually letting him do it.

He inhaled sharply and his tail wrapped around you tightened briefly before leaning closer then gently placing a kiss on your forehead, a content and quiet sigh escaping his lips as he waited for your reaction.

He wants to do it again. To shower you with such gestures.

“I hope that is enough to make it up for helping me here today, Skye,” you said, a satisfied expression on your face.

How sweet can you get, Miss Deer? Giving these freely when asked nicely.

“Consider it paid in full, sweetie,” Sylus chuckled softly. You are so unpredictable sometimes that he made a mental note that he should be more clear next time.

But it isn’t so bad.

The sharp ringing of the telephone cut through the quietness of the receiving area and Sylus watched you walk towards it to pick it up, his tail letting go of you.

He listened idly to your quiet conversation to the other person on the line and his attention went from the small smile on your face then downwards, his gaze shifting on your tail swaying side to side.

Cute, fluffy, well-groomed and-

-oh-so-inviting.

How would it feel against his fingertips or perhaps, tangled against his own?

“I understand,” you nodded, a worried look on your face, “Get well soon, Simon.”

You put down the phone and looked at the boxes for delivery. Should you return them back to your studio and ask your clients to pick it up? But then again, they requested it for delivery and you sighed heavily.

It isn’t the delivery boy’s fault if he caught the flu. It was a miracle he even managed to call you based on the state of his voice.

“It looks like I had to the delivery today, Skye,” you told him, walking towards the entrance of the shop to flip the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’.

“I am coming with you, sweetie.”

“But how?”

“With my car, miss seamstress.”

“Mr. Sylus wouldn’t mind? He might be looking for you now,” you replied, slightly worried. He already helped you around moving the boxes and now he is driving you around as well?

Oh, who do you think I am?

“He can afford a few hours without me,” he answered dismissively, already picking up boxes to load on his car. There is no way he will let you walk and use the public transportation especially not in the N109 zone.

“It looks like I owe you again, Skye,” you smiled at him, following him to his car with your clipboard.

This is clearly an expensive car.

He said it was his car, right? You are sure you didn’t misheard. Does Mr. Sylus pays his people well? Maybe the rumors were actually true when it comes to his wealth or maybe it is hazard pay? There is word that Mr. Sylus and his people deal with hybrids and humans alike on their line of work.

“Consider it as my gratitude for your little reward earlier, sweetheart.”

Your subtle surprised reaction did not escape his notice and he had to stifle his chuckle on your reaction, his tail flicking in amusement as he opened the car door for you, his hand on the small of your back.

He should take you to joyrides every now and then.

In fact, now that he thinks about it, that isn’t enough at all in his dictionary when it comes to spoiling you.

────────────────────

All of his business associates were stunned.

It was no secret at this point that Sylus is visiting you frequently and becoming more watchful over you. They know this because when a shootout happened right in front of your shop, Sylus was immediately there, royally pissed at the perpetrators and a new rule was added that there should be no violence at all within the 500 meters of your shop.

Did everyone get the message? Oh, they certainly did especially when the warehouses of the perpetrators were conveniently burned down the morning after.

The message is very loud and clear.

They all agreed you and him make an unlikely pair. It wasn’t uncommon between hybrids of different species to find attraction towards each other but in your case? They actually all prayed (Which is the most unusual) that their beloved tailor will be safe.

Surely, Sylus has enough self-restraint to not mistake you for prey, right? That he isn’t a wild animal wearing well-tailored clothes to mingle among the turbulent crowd of hybrids and humans.

There was a certain expectation that his demeanor will be softened at least slightly when he is around you yet seeing you together for the first time? By goodness, he looked more terrifying even when you were standing beside him, greeting them all cheerfully and explaining why you are doing the delivery today.

You frowned upon seeing your client shake. This is the third time your clients looked at you as if they wanted to be anywhere but here and you know precisely why.

You didn’t expect Skye to be that scary to other people but he actually is. Does that come with working with Mr. Sylus? Luke and Kieran do not look menacing at all but they did mention they do the dirty work so that only means Skye is most likely sent to do the same as well.

Maybe their images change depending on the situation.

“Oh, please don’t be scared,” you tried your best to assure your client who is clearly trembling in the appearance of your companion, “Skye’s not on duty today. He is just tagging along.”

Sylus just smirked at the man in front of you who was looking at him in sheer terror. He badly wanted to laugh but chose not to, not wanting to break his facade.

It is not often you find the leader of Onychinus himself standing on your doorstep especially when you just woke up and in your pajamas.

Skye?

Why are you calling Sylus using a different name? Or maybe that is a nickname? The word going about is he is pursuing you but are you two that far in your relationship already?

Your client, an older lion hybrid, kept his eyes at you, not daring to look at Sylus.

“Yes, my apologies,” your client nodded slowly and he is careful not to even brush his hands against yours as you handed him the box of suit you tailored for him, “Not so often you see, um-, Sy-”

He froze when Sylus glared at him, a silent warning, daring him to finish that sentence, his tail flicking in subtle annoyance.

The older lion is even more confused but chose not to prod further. Work with Sylus long enough and you will see signs when he doesn’t want to continue the conversation any further. To leave the subject as it is, choose a new topic, and hope that would placate him.

You caught the silent exchange between them and it even made you slightly frustrated that Skye is unintentionally being scary. You do believe it isn’t his fault since he did not get to choose what kind of hybrid he would be when he was born.

“Skye, stop scaring him,” you gently chided him and the lion hybrid watched in surprise at how fast Sylus switched his expression, holding a subtle fondness when he gazed at you.

“I’m not scary, sweetie.”

“You’re not to me but to them, I think you are.”

“Oh, am I?”

“You were just glaring at him awhile ago,” you pointed out, and even then, your scolding is quite gentle, as if reprimanding a child who is bullying someone younger than him.

Perhaps you need to work with him on making sure he doesn’t scare people during his off time.

“I am really sorry, sir,”, you bowed politely to the still stunned lion hybrid, “We need to get going but please be assured we are going to work on his customer service.”

Your client just nodded slowly, mumbling a small thanks, watching as you and Sylus walked back towards the car, the dragon hybrid’s tail wrapped loosely around your waist and even then, he could still pick up the dragon hybrid teasing you.

“Are you going to teach me how to behave, sweetie?”

“If you don’t mind, Skye.”

What on earth just happened?

────────────────────

It was certainly exhausting delivering all of those boxes.

Sylus watched you in amusement, taking a sip of his coffee while you rested your head on your arms on the table. He mostly let you do the talking even when you attempted to let him take the lead so he could work on his ‘customer service’ only for him to fail. (Mostly because the moment your clients opened the door they almost had a heart attack so you had to take over.)

“Maybe we need to work on your smile,” you mumbled, your groan of frustration sounding louder because of how quiet the cafe was.

“And how do you suggest we work on that, miss seamstress?”, he asked, his hand resting on his chin as you looked at him, studying his face.

Up close, Skye actually looks quite.. good looking, a faint blush tinting your cheeks at the thought and you shook your head.

You find these feelings very confusing. On one hand you have Mr. Sylus, still shrouded in mystery as ever but now you confirmed he is almost the same age as you and now every time he asks Skye to deliver his gifts, your crush slight admiration for him grows despite being aware you don’t even know him but you appreciate his shy attempts on making a connection with you.

Yet, you don’t even know what he looks like. What kind of hybrid is he even?

Then, you have Skye, a recent character, who keeps you company even when he just had to drop off the gift and go. Every time he hands you Mr. Sylus’ presents, you often see that it is from him instead.

It is all frustrating but you have to come into terms that dragon hybrids should be with their kind and the same goes to you and Mr. Sylus.

“Let me think,” you said, your brows slightly furrowed.

Back to the topic. The plan. Maybe his fangs slightly poking out might be the problem and smirking seemed to be his default expression.

“Take your time, sweetie, I’m in no rush,” he replied, his gaze more fixed at your little pout and he raised his brow when you switched seats, sitting beside him. “What’s this?”

“I am fixing your smile.”

Oh, this is good.

Very good.

He relished the warmth of your hands on his face while you try to correct his smirk, making his fangs slightly hidden. A very surprising turn of events but a favorable one. Who knows accompanying you for delivery would lead to your delicate hands touching him like this.

It didn’t help how close you are, the scent of cotton and wildflowers at full force.

Little deer forgets she is in the company of a predator it seems.

How amusing how you never cower even when the rest of the beasts you have met with him did.

“Is this your way of fixing my smile then?”, he asked, his voice slightly muffled and he noticed the slight tremble on your touch.

Perhaps the deer instincts are still there.

“I just want to see if I can.”

You nodded but there was a subtle hint of fear in your gaze when you noticed how sharp those canines are up close before it was immediately replaced by the determination you have earlier.

Sure, Skye and you are polar opposites when it comes to species but no, he wouldn’t jump on you-

-He wouldn’t jump on you and eat you.

“You’re trembling, miss seamstress” he said quietly, holding one of your wrists.

“I am just hungry,” you immediately replied, your other hand resting on your lap.

Your ears drooped slightly, guilty and ashamed for letting your natural instincts dictate your reactions. No one has harmed you so far in this place. It isn’t fair for you to look at him in fear when Skye has been kind to you. Who had every chance to pounce on you while both of you are alone on your studio but did not.

Sylus knows it is an excuse but chose to let it slide, letting go of your wrist. He doesn’t want to ruin this little impromptu date (It is a date, you just don’t know.)

“Our orders should be here any minute now, sweetheart,” he replied.

He didn’t push any further but his tail wrapped around you gently and he hoped despite you being so naive, so oblivious, you will take this as a sign that he is grateful.

Grateful that you didn’t stand up and flee.

Your tail wagged slightly when you saw your strawberry shortcake set in front of you together with his lemon tart.

“This looks very delicious,” you said, studying the treat in front of you.

“You’re more excited at the cake than finishing the delivery earlier, Miss Deer” he commented, poking your cheek.

Of course you are, especially when the strawberries on top look very fresh partnered with a pink macaron.

“The macaron looked so cute.”

“It does, but not as cute as you, darling deer.”

“Liar.”

What was it exactly?

Your playful tease?

The sense of foreboding that he is indeed a liar, that he is lying to you about his identity?

Or maybe it was the white cream on your fingers? Or perhaps the tip of your tongue darting slightly on your bottom lip to clean the crumbs of the pink pastry?

Or was it because he wanted to be the one to lick that little mess himself?

No, it is what comes after.

It is what comes after that would bother him for the next few days and bear that irrational anger that comes with pining over the deer gazing back at him from her hidden grove, waiting for him to reveal himself from the darkness of the woods that surround your little paradise.

It is what comes after that when he can hear his heartbeats against his chest, his breath hitching, his eyes widening, and his lips parting slightly.

It was when-

It was when you made that sound with your oh-so-inviting lips.

Pop.

“Oh, it is as tasty as it looks!”, you exclaimed.

The trance breaks.

He blinked, immediately taking a deep breath to collect himself.

“Let me have a taste,” he said playfully, slightly strained while he try to calm the beating of his heart.

“Can you let me try yours as well, Skye?”, you asked.

Maybe he bit more than he can chew for today but he himself won’t admit that.

────────────────────

Sylus wouldn't deny how far his imagination goes when it comes to you.

They are usually domestic most of the time, little wishes of resting his chin on your shoulder while watching you work but there are cases it goes beyond that.

It was natural, he supposed, especially when he is already a lovestruck fool at this point.

A lovestruck fool for you, at least.

But they were proof to him.

That this attraction is not because he wants to devour you like those lunatics who lost their minds on the haze on being unable to discern the difference between love and obsession.

His affections for you are real. His intentions are without a doubt, pure.

He acted as if he never saw the rest of his business associates earlier that day and no one dared to bring up why he is accompanying you on a delivery run.

Despite that, things do not go smoothly.

Not because people are being stubborn, no, they are very cooperative for once.

It was because every now and then, he remembers that sound.

That sound you made earlier.

Pop.

It was enough to distract him every now and then. How his hold on the firearm faltered just slightly when he was inspecting it, how his grip on the cards during the poker game tightened and he is glad that his schedule isn't tight tonight because he would like to have some time for himself, to clear his head.

"What are we going to do if there are any incoming calls for you, boss?", Luke asked.

“Just say I am busy for tonight,” he sighed then added.

“And no interruptions unless it’s urgent.”

Luke and Kieran looked at each other, perplexed. Usually, the boss would be in his best mood after visiting you but he looked grumpy tonight.

Did you guys fight? No way. They had spent enough time with you to know you don’t get ticked off so easily.

“Is Miss Deer okay?”, Kieran asked quietly.

“She’s fine,” he answered and gave them a dismissive wave.

The two just nodded, making a mental note to swing by tomorrow to check on you as well or maybe tonight. What if you are crying because the boss said something? Oh, they really hope you aren’t.

Perhaps they should bring along a box of sweets just in case and tell you it was from the boss.

Because if they need to be a mediator between you and the boss, then so be it.

The twins closed the door behind them and Sylus ran a hand through his hair, deep in thought and it did not help that his pants are tighter than usual.

Terribly unfair how he had to deal with this while you are back at your shop, most likely hard at work even during the evenings.

Perhaps a long and cold shower should help him and for good measure, he will down a bottle of whisky too because for once, he hopes that you will not appear in his dreams tonight, fully aware what kind of dream it will be.

Oh, how wrong he was.

────────────────────

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

#love and deepspace #lads #sylus x reader #sylus x you #hybrid au #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads hybrid au

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she-is-ovarit · 11 months ago

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The intersection of male supremacy and white supremacy: Sperm donation corruption and rape by deception of women.

Jonathan Jacob Meijer.

(There is a Netflix documentary: Man with 1000 kids)

Several women went to this Norwegian man seeking a sperm donor. He had great hair. He had great teeth. He traveled and made Youtube blogs of everywhere he went, to all of these different countries. These women went through a private website as opposed to a clinic. He told these women that his intentions were to donate to a maximum of five families.

As they began getting pregnant and giving birth, some bumped into each other. And what a funny coincidence it was that they happened to share the same donor. And then more met and knew of each other. And some realized that their kids were in the same day camp together, and what were the odds of that?

And as it turns out, this man was operating under several different aliases and traveling internationally, donating to 11 different sperm banks under different names, providing sperm privately for women on the side. And he didn't just donate to five women, he donated to hundreds of women, many of whom connected with each other over social media and formed an online group where all were concerned with what he was doing. And this resulted in thousands of children directly related to this man internationally.

And he didn't just use his sperm, but would also meet up with his bald scarred friend and mix their sperm together in the sample bottle, so many of these women non-consensually conceived children with a man they had never even heard of without realizing it. And him and his buddy and other serial donors would "joke" that they were spreading their "white seed" when they would travel to places like Hong Kong and Kenya.

When he was finally tried in court he stated that if there was concern about incest, the children can all simply wear and use a social media symbol that brands them as his so they can recognize each other. And a female judge (who's name I cannot seem to find online) in a Dutch court, sentenced him to 100,000 euro fine for every time he donated if he was ever found donating again and required him to contact the donor banks and request his material be destroyed.

Donald Cline

(Also a Netflix documentary on this: Our Father)

A fertility (gynecology and obstetrics) doctor in the 1980s who welcomed women into his clinic before cryogenic freezing of sperm was a thing and it was freshly inseminated through a procedure. He let the women know that he was using the sperm of medical students and that there would be no more than three times sperm from the same student would be used. Some women, who weren't able to conceive with their husband for one reason or another, also came into the clinic wanting to use their own husband's sperm.

Years later a woman who grew up knowing that part of her DNA was from a sperm donor began wanting to connect with her potential siblings on 23&Me. She was shocked to discover at least 10 siblings she was related to. She got in touch with them.

It turns out that Dr. Cline proceeded to use his own sperm on the female patients, hiding somewhere in the clinic to produce it immediately before using it to inseminate unsuspecting women. This man covertly reproductively exploited several women and "fathered" 94 children. Whenever the children would try to meet with him, he would show up intentionally carrying a gun to intimidate them.

One of his biological daughters, who didn't realize Cline was her biological father until adulthood, even had him as her own gynecologist. He performed pap smears and breast exams on her. He knew that she was his biological offspring and she did not have the knowledge and therefore the option to decline being sexually examined by her biological father.

Dr. Cline was also tried in court by the victims; however, the judge was sympathetic to him.

____________________________________________________________

This form of sociopathy not only majorly creates significant consequences to the gene pool for our human species as these half siblings are at higher risk of incest, but the psychological harm done to the mothers and the children are horrific. Some of these (now adult) children have described an entire undoing of their self-identity, and many struggled in processing that the men who may have raised them was not their biological father. Some of these mothers are teaching their children to always ask whoever they date if they were ever conceived by a donor. These mothers now wrestle with conflicting emotions - the fact that they were betrayed, taken advantage of, and used to fulfill a man's god-complex, while also finally having a child or children that they love with all of their hearts who were a result of a violating situation.

These two men share two other things in common: they have both argued that they were "helping" these women. That these women came to them in need and that they were engaging in philanthropy and giving them what these women wanted. That they should be grateful.

And that they were interested in contributing to the white race. In addition to Meijer's comments in "spreading white seed", Jacoba, one of the child victims of fertility fraud/the reproductive rape of her mother by Donald Cline, described how he was using her mother as a pawn repeatedly to fulfill religious, male supremacist, and white supremacist ideals to spread the white race.

Now, look:

Presently there are little to no regulations or legal enforcement in preventing men from committing fertility fraud/this form of sexual violation and reproductive exploitation of women. There are little to no consequence for men substantially altering the genetic pool and using women as chattel and children as genetic products. In fact, Meijer was the first case in which a judge placed restrictions on male reproductive autonomy as a consequence for causing sexual, psychological, and evolutionary harm.

#sperm donation #women's oppression #feminism #global feminism #women's rights

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lovely-p-issues · 1 year ago

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Fic idea - Astyanax in Ithaca

for times when my English will become acceptable because writing this in Polish feels not right sample of the story under the summary c:

Of course, I was thinking about Penelope's reaction to Odysseus showing up with a new kid (10/11 years old, give or take, Astyanax) at their doors.

I imagined it as the Game of Thrones scene when Ned Stark comes home and shows Catelyn a baby who, he claims, is his bastard. If I were her, I would lose my mind.

But I think that Odysseus explained himself chaotically, yet truly and Penelope didn't fight with the idea of raising the little prince as their own.

But Telemachus? Well, that's a hell of a different story.

He spent his childhood without his father, missing his presence and hoping to meet him one day. He lived in his shadow, as the problematic son of the absent king that everyone wanted to kill, or as a painful reminder to his mother that Odysseus wasn't around anymore and that she needed to be there for the two of them.

Now his dad is back but with a new child.

A new child who knows his father so well. Odysseus was his only parent for ten years (if we forget about 600 uncles, but they died after like 3 years? if I get it right?) and they just get themselves on an impossible level.

Odysseus knows Astyanax's nightmares (they share them).

Astyanax knows his father's past and doesn't need to ask many questions, and Telemachus does. He hates to do it because he sees Odysseus's pain, he sees Astyanax's reproachful look, like he is going to fight Telemachus if he doesn't leave their father, and-

and he sees the sad, concerned eyes of his mom.

So he doesn't ask much about those 20 years. And somehow it's even worse.

Because Telemachus doesn't know Odysseus. Because it feels weird and not home, like they are forced to be close, but they are not. Because he knew his father from songs, stories and legends, and this man is not who he heard of and he doesn't know how can he fix it.

Telemachus doesn't like to think about it but feels like he gives up on Odysseus. He spent the last 20 years of his life trying to reach that man and- Telemachus is tired.

Besides, Odysseus has another son anyway, right?

The prince of Troy, cursed boy, son of Hector, Astyanax, who also turned out to be a pain in the ass.

He knows that he can't blame the kid for his existence or even for the fact that Odysseus took him to their home.

For that Odysseus often takes Astyanax for horse rides to show him the island. The thing that Telemachus did alone.

For that, Odysseus teaches the boy how to use a sword and they laugh a lot during that. The thing that Telemachus did with strangers, got dozens of bruises, always trying to do everything he could to impress the person that wasn't there.

He doesn't blame Astyanax.

He just can't stand him.

But the boy seems to love the idea of going after him whenever Odysseus manages to pull him off for a moment. It's okay when Astyanax watches him during the trainings with eyes shining with excitement. However, it's bad when Astyanax starts to talk.

Father said I'm getting better at parrying-

When I was with father on Calypso's island-

Father does this completely differently-

Telemachus is a patient man. He waited for his father for 20 years. But sometimes he asks himself if Astyanax knows that all this talking about Odysseus, the man he missed but can't actually get to know, is such a trigger for him.

Maybe Astyanax teases him to show how much more of a son Odysseus is?

With every day Telemachus is more and more irritated. He does his best to hide it, but he can't ignore this fire burning him from the inside.

The reason for this fragile peace collapse is, relatively, very stupid.

Telemachus was tired after all day when he met Odysseus.

"The situation in the city is now calmed down,’ he informed his father, combing through his wind-tangled hair."

Odysseus nodded and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Telemachus. Well done."

Telemachus froze, not knowing what to say. He couldn't even move. Finally, he nodded, wincing slightly at the awkwardness of his every interaction with his father.

"Of course, father."

Odysseus seemed equally perplexed. However, the whole situation changed when Astyanax appeared in the courtyard where they stood.

Or, he ran into it, almost toppling over, just to get to Odysseus faster and embrace him around the waist.

"Dad, you will never believe what I found with mother in the garden!"

Telemachus watched with unhealthy interest as his father's face lit up with a smile as he listened to Astyanax's excited chatter.

A sudden anger, though senseless and petty, flared his veins. He had to avert his gaze and drive it into the ground so that no one could see his anger. His jaw was clenched tightly.

Twenty years of life based on a vague memory. An entire journey to find his father. His faith, his efforts and his devotion. All this to not be able to have one real conversation with his father. All this to watch both his parents melt down over his new, little brother. All this to stand by and watch his dreams fade away.

He no longer watched.

He walked away before he could do something stupid. Something that would distance him even further from his father.

He holed up in one of the cool and dark corridors of their palace. He concentrated on his breathing and massaged his temples.

He was an adult and knew how to deal with his feelings. Not that anyone had ever taught him that.

"Telemachus, what's wrong? You don't even know what we found in the garden, you went too fast!"

He didn't know shit about how to deal with his feelings.

"Could you, for five minutes, let me live as I lived before you came along? Five minutes without your constant footsteps and shouting behind my back. Five minutes of peace and quiet! That's all I'm asking for!"

But Astyanax took a few steps back as if frightened by Telemachus' sudden outburst. A grimace twisted his face and he squinted as if Telemachus was an extremely difficult puzzle for his quick mind.

"Why are you so angry? I don't understand."

"At this point? I'm not sure anymore. All I know is that I wasn't this angry even once before you dragged yourself home with father and decided to act as if it had all been yours forever."

Telemachus had to calm down. For bloody hell, he had just shouted at the eleven-year-old as if he was guilty of anything.

‘Are you angry about your father bringing me with him?’

Damn it.

It wasn't true. To be fair, he did not want Astyanax to die that night in Troy or be lost in the depths of the burning city.

Still, did he want him here? He let his thoughts wander before he could finally admit it to himself.

Astyanax, essentially, was not the problem. Everything else was. Telemachus was as well.

"No. There are many other things I'm angry about, but not this."

He sat down on the floor and leaned against the cool wall. He hid his face in his hands and let the anger leave him with his next breaths.

"Forgive my shouting. You got me at the wrong time, brother."

And he heard the boy slowly slide down the wall and sit down a few steps away from him.

"You should be grateful, you know?" suddenly said Astyanax. "He travelled all the world to see you and Mom."

You won't scream, Telemachus said to himself. He took a breath.

"Yeah, he didn't really know me, so. I don't know if that counts."

"That's even better. I mean, he loved you anyway. All this time, he was thinking about you"

This logic was wrong, but Telemachus doesn't find enough strength to fight over it.

They stayed silent for a few minutes.

"He didn't want me, you know? He just didn't want me dead and I reminded him of you. He was also scared of what I would become if he just left me alone. And you are so awful but he wanted you from the beginning and he loves you and he was so proud and-" Astyanax put his arms around his knees, his voice breaking as he spoke his next words: "You're a terrible idiot, you know. But he still wants you."

Telemachus needed a few seconds to see that every now and then, Astyanax would rub his wet eyes with his little fists.

He wasn't ready for this, even after months of training he wouldn't be ready. He stays silent for a moment. Slowly, he puts his arms over the crying mess and draws him to his side.

"And you think that father carried you all over the world because he doesn't like you?"

"Because he's kind and he would be ashamed to tell uncle Polites what he did."

"As far I know he wasn't so nice all this time, right? But he never turned his back on you. If you don't trust me, trust that. Odysseus came with you to Ithaca, because he wants you."

Astyanax did not reply but rested his head on his side. Telemachus let him.

Later that night, Telemachus carried a tired Astyanax straight to his parents' bedroom and knocked. When confused Odysseus finally opened it, Telemachus threw the sleepy child at him without hesitation.

"Hug your bloody kid."

And he walked away. This was his moment to avoid uncomfortable questions.

Let me know what do you think. And yes, Telemachus and Odysseus have a proper conversation about being father and son, but later.

BTW sorry for all the errors, I'm so sleepy right now I barely see my screen

#epic the musical #odysseus #the odyssey #greek mythology #epic the troy saga #telemachus #odysseus x penelope #odyssey #astyanax #daddy odysseus au #polites #greek mythology memes #fanfiction #fanfics

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bee-calm · 4 months ago

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tbhk but they're lab-based phd students- because sometimes you just need to make the most self-indulgent au you can think of

nene

marine microbiology

talks to her culture plates, swears it makes them grow faster

tries to put cute labels on her samples then can’t remember what ANY of her shorthand means the next day

forgets her pass and gets locked out at least once a day

algae clip-art in all of her presentations

sings in the microscope room, thinks nobody can hear her singing in the microscope room

once thought she’d re-written scientific dogma then realised she’d put a decimal point in the wrong place

thinks transcriptomics is witchcraft. is currently doing transcriptomics.

brings chocolates for the rest of the lab, is everyone’s favourite because of it

became best friends with aoi when they somehow managed to double-book the flow cytometer

could read those papers she’s been saving for weeks, OR she could spend two hours changing the colour scheme on her figures

amane

materials chemistry, probably something space-exploration-aligned

pure synthesis, if it’s bigger than a kilodalton then he doesn’t want it anywhere near him

if there is an unlabelled round-bottom flask in the lab freezer then there’s a 90% chance it belongs to him. claims he can tell the chemicals apart by Vibes alone (amane voice: nmr is for Weaklings)

worlds messiest fume hood, yet somehow the worlds most immaculate desk-space. (currently the biggest scientific mystery the rest of the lab is working towards)

will tell people (read: kou) that biochem isn’t real chemistry just to cause problems

really good at teaching project students

also really good at scaring the project students by pretending to drink the toxic chemicals

extensive lanyard pin collection

nobody has ever actually seen him go home

has a set of glassware-themed coffee mugs. much debate as to whether or not he just stole them from the lab.

kou

structural biology

just a guy and his 10 litre E.coli grow-up

once spilled an vat of LB all over the bacteria room. legend has it the stains are still there to this day

banned teru from the cryoEM room after he walked in and the entire setup almost crashed

likes modelling structures, wonders why his computer is always running so slowly, fails to consider that the 5 pymol projects he has open at all times may have something to do with it

serial offender for walking home still wearing his goggles

thinks mammalian cell work is witchcraft

incredibly chaotic labwork processes, still somehow gets the results anyway. most common saying: ‘this is not going in the methods section’

once dropped his earring into the liquid nitrogen tank, has still not lived it down

has a framed photo of his first crystal on his desk

ongoing war with mitsuba over whether electron microscopy is real microscopy or not

keeps taking on side projects for other people, has yet to realise that this may be the reason he never gets to go home on time

teru

molecular biology

theory x1000, ask him a question after his presentation and there’s a 90% chance he’s got a bonus slide already prepared to answer it

benchwork also x1000, that person who asks ‘oh can i try?’ and gets amazing results first time on the experiment you’ve been trying to get right for weeks.

cell culture x0, banned from the tissue culture room, WILL contaminate any flask put within 5 feet of him

the machines hate him. the centrifuge keeps trying to eat his samples. the plate reader breaks on him at least once a week.

serial weekender

stickler for lab safety, can and will send out threatening emails reminding people to wear their gloves and lab coats

once drew the entire signalling cascade for his target molecule from memory on the whiteboard in a lab meeting and it was impressive enough that nobody has wiped it off yet

keeps doing horrendous timecourses, can be found taking plate readings at stupid o clock in the morning

aoi

immunology

the flow panels she manages to pull off are a constant subject of awe and horror

likes working weekends because it means nobody can hear her verbally threatening her cell cultures when they’re not behaving

can fit a scary amount of information onto the lid of an eppendorf tube

when stressed can be found hiding out in the plant biology greenhouses. has made friends with some genetically modified tomatoes

rocks up to the lab meeting with publication-ready figures for an experiment she did yesterday

the source of 90% of the passive aggressive post-it notes around the lab

everyone dreads her post-presentation questions. will dissect your experiments and do it with a smile.

started off working normal hours but has gradually become borderline nocturnal over time

teru contaminated her cells once, has been using it as leverage to make him collect things from stores for her ever since

keeps giving akane’s email to sales reps instead of her own so she can get free stuff without ever being contacted by them again

akane

biophysics

scary single molecule data, deliberately puts huge equations on his presentations so nobody will ask him questions

might as well get paid lab tech wages too, chronically stuck on stock solution duty

crashed the lab computer trying to run one of his datasets on it

the only reason the lab has a booking system for the equipment. anarchy would prevail if he wasn’t around.

will go off to do photobleaching experiments and emerge hours later looking like a cave creature

keeps having to fix the equipment that teru breaks

perpetually receiving emails meant for aoi by people who got their names mixed up

also perpetually receiving emails from the company sales reps who aoi told his email to so she wouldn’t have to deal with them

says he needs to stop working weekends, then suddenly it’s saturday and he’s stuck in the microscope room with teru again

has somehow acquired a small army of project students (none of them are studying the same thing as him)

incubation time= coffee time

mitsuba

cell biology

made a cell line, treats it like it’s his baby

trust issues, won’t let ANYONE share his reagents. serial pipette hoarder.

neat lab book, can still somehow never find where he put his protocols or what concentrations he used his antibodies at

could probably win an award for his immunofluorescence images, someone automatically turns the lights off when it’s his turn to present in lab meetings bc he’s guaranteed to have cool microscopy to show

thinks bacteria work is disgusting. ensures kou knows this.

[emerging from a 5-hour session in the microscope room] what day is it?????

loves his work, doesn’t act like it (the reagents smell bad. the lab benches are dirty. people keep using the milk he brought to put in the fridge. nobody cleans the water bath. if there’s nothing to complain about, he’ll make something.)

threatens to move to industry at least once a day

outright refuses to do weekends

found the perfect colour scheme for his graphs, considers this the highlight of his entire degree

any minor inconvenience is an excuse to go to the cafe on campus

natsuhiko

innate immunity, infection

zebrafish models

nobody is sure if he bought a tie-dye lab coat or if it’s just that badly stained

has absolutely named his fish (doesn’t actually remember which is which, but the sentiment is there)

forever followed by a gaggle of project students. is constantly reminding them to do as he says, not as he does

incubation times are a suggestion, not a rule (read: keeps getting distracted and leaving his experiments way longer than necessary)

convinced he’s going to be patient zero of the zombie apocalypse when he accidentally creates super-salmonella and infects himself

serial distractor, WILL chat to people while they’re in the middle of a 96-well plate

isn’t going to eat the LB agar, but the temptation is always there

someone bought him the ‘women want me, fish fear me’ hat for his birthday, keeps it on his desk

the confocal microscope hates to see him coming (5 hours is a short session when you’re trying to take z-stacks of an entire fish)

sakura

drug discovery

probably dabbles in synthesis, plays orchestral music while running columns bc apparently it gives them better separation

tea drawer in the office, WILL pull out an entire teapot during their incubation times

best dressed person in the lab, at all times

eternal struggle of dangly earrings versus the samples they’re leaning over

neat handwriting, still terrible at labelling eppendorfs (what are the lids so small for)

incubation times to the second

runs BIG experiments, has mastered the art of the plate plan. made a template which has somehow ended up distributed around the entire department

ceo of not replying to sales rep emails

mildly allergic to the nitrile gloves, the drawer below the tea drawer is the hand cream drawer

earphones + cell culture is the ideal de-stress activity

over-prepares for presentations, will spend 2 weeks rehearsing an informal flash talk

probably the only person who actually sends their lab coat to get washed

mei

tissue engineering

has designed all of her labmates a mug with terrible research-relevant science puns on them

invented side-projects, has probably got a collaboration ongoing with every other lab in the department

bought a label printer for her reagents, has way too much fun with it

thought a week-long experiment was bad? try two months

life goal is to get to try making DNA origami just to say she did it

keeps starting doodle chains on the lab whiteboard

experiment worked= sweet treat to celebrate

experiment failed= sweet treat to commiserate

probably did a masters in the microbiology department, they keep trying to convince her to switch projects back to them bc her streak plating was gallery-worthy

picks up her lab coat and 10 pens fall out of the pockets

sold her soul to parafilm

tsukasa

RNA therapeutics

goes in cell culture with no gloves, still somehow doesn’t get contamination

that one insane person who actually enjoys the stress of working with RNA

doesn’t even do SDS-PAGE but still has coomassie stain all over his lab coat

keeps launching dry ice rockets

homebrewed a microfluidics system in the lab, it makes weird noises at night and everyone is slightly terrified of it

keeps materialising in the corner of the microscope room when mitsuba is in the middle of taking images. the cause of many a dropped slide.

plots his data in excel

worlds worst file names. no system, no dates, just a keyboard smash and a prayer

who needs desk space when you can just move your laptop into the lab

gave into temptation and tasted the cell culture media once. it was disappointing

either the most incoherent presentation you’ve ever seen, or a major scientific breakthrough, no inbetween

#tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #i work in a lab so therefore i have to make the fictional characters who live in my brain also work in a lab #already inflicted this as a thread on twitter #so now you have to deal with it too #jshk lab au

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gunsandspaceships · 4 months ago

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MCU Fandom Study. Results. Part 4: Team Iron Man vs Team Cap - MCU Preferences

To be precise, "the MCU Fandom" in this case is limited to: a) Tumblr users; b) those who agreed to participate in the survey.

The sample is 116.

Years in the Fandom

Conclusion: we can see that in the "5-10" category Neutral shows the lowest % of participants. This makes sense since it was the time of Civil War and the peak of division in the fandom.

First MCU Movie

Favorite MCU Movie

Top for Team Iron Man (% of participants from Team Iron Man): 1) Iron Man (38.9%) 2) Iron Man 3 (33.3%) 3) Iron Man 2/The Avengers/Thor Ragnarok (19.4%) 4) Endgame/Infinity War (11.1%) 5) Age of Ultron/Thor/GotG/SM:NWH (8.3%)

Top for Team Cap (% of participants from Team Cap): 1) CA:TWS (48.8%) 2) The Avengers (20.9%) 3) CA:TFS (16.3%) 4) Iron Man/Thor Ragnarok (14%) 5) CA:CW (9.3%)

Top for Team Neutral (% of participants from Team Neutral): 1) CA:TWS (24.3%) 2) Iron Man/The Avengers/GotG (21.6%) 3) Black Panther (18.9%) 4) CA:CW (16.2%) 5) GotG 2/SM:NWH (13.5%)

Least Favorite MCU Movie

(Anti) Top for Team Iron Man (% of participants from Team Iron Man): 1) Thor: Love and Thunder/DSMM (19.4%) 2) Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (13.39%) 3) SM:FFH/CA:TWS/AoU/Endgame/Eternals/CA:CW (11.1%) 4) CA:TFA/SM:NWH/Black Widow (8.3%)

(Anti) Top for Team Cap (% of participants from Team Cap): 1) Eternals (25.6%) 2) Thor: Love and Thunder (16.3%) 3) The Incredible Hulk/Endgame/Quantumania (11.6%) 4) DSMM (9.3%) 5) Thor: The Dark World (7%)

(Anti) Top for Team Neutral (% of participants from Team Neutral): 1) Quantumania (18.9%) 2) Thor: Love and Thunder/Endgame (16.2%) 3) DSMM/The Marvels (13.5%) 4) Thor: The Dark World/The Incredible Hulk (10.8%) 5) Black Widow/Eternals/SM:NWH/SM:FFH/Thor/Infinity War (8.1%)

Conclusion on favorite and least favorite movies: 1) For some reason, Team Cap particularly hates Eternals. Guys from Team Cap, tell us why in the comments. 2) There is a significant difference in taste between the teams in both their most and least favorite movies. But some movies are loved by both (The Avengers, Iron Man, Thor Ragnarok), and some are hated by both teams (Thor: Love and Thunder, DSMM, Quantumania, Endgame, Eternals).

Favorite MCU Character

Top for Team Iron Man (% of participants from Team Iron Man): 1) Tony Stark (75%) 2) Loki (36.1%) 3) Peter Parker (19.4%) 4) Bruce Banner (13.9%) 5) Stephen Strange/Bucky Barnes (11.1%)

Top for Team Cap (% of participants from Team Cap): 1) Bucky Barnes (34.9%) 2) Loki (30.2%) 3) Steve Rogers (27.9%) 4) Natasha Romanoff (18.6%) 5) Wanda Maximoff (16.3%)

Top for Team Neutral (% of participants from Team Neutral): 1) Tony Stark (43.2%) 2) Loki (35.1%) 3) Bucky Barnes (32.4%) 4) Peter Parker (29.7%) 5) Natasha Romanoff (18.9%)

Least Favorite MCU Character

(Anti) Top for Team Iron Man (% of participants from Team Iron Man): 1) Steve Rogers (41.7%) 2) None (25%) 3) Wanda Maximoff (11.1%) 4) Bucky Barnes (8.3%)

(Anti) Top for Team Cap (% of participants from Team Cap): 1) None (51.2%) 2) Odin/Stephen Strange (7%)

(Anti) Top for Team Neutral (% of participants from Team Neutral): 1) None (40.5%) 2) Thor/Peter Parker (8.1%)

Conclusion on favorite and least favorite characters: 1) Again, the difference in preference is clear, although Loki fans are evenly split. Bucky Barnes also made it to all three teams in the Favorite Character category, but with an uneven distribution. 2) Steve Rogers only got 3rd place and 27.9% of his own team in the Favorite Character category. He is also the least favorite character on Team Iron Man. It seems like he really hurt people's feelings.

Favorite MCU Ship

Top for Team Iron Man (% of participants from Team Iron Man): 1) Tony Stark/Stephen Strange (22.2%) 2) None & Tony Stark/Loki (19.4%) 3) Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (16.7%) 4) Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes (11.1%) 5) Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes (8.3%)

Top for Team Cap (% of participants from Team Cap): 1) None (34.9%) 2) Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes (27.9%) 3) Agatha Harkness/Rio Vidal (9.3%) 4) Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes & Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff (7%)

Top for Team Neutral (% of participants from Team Neutral): 1) None & Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes (18.9%) 2) Tony Stark/Steve Rogers (13.5%) 3) Tony Stark/Loki & Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (10.8%) 4) Loki/Mobius & Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes (8.1%)

Conclusion: in Team Iron Man, 80.5% of people ship characters, while in Team Cap, only 65.1% do so. The highest percentage of shippers (although almost equal to Team Iron Man) is in Team Neutral - 81.1%.

Comics Readers

Conclusion: Team Iron Man has a slightly higher percentage of people who also read Marvel comics - 69.5% vs 65.1% on Team Cap. The highest percentage of people who read them is on Team Neutral - 75.6%.

Fanfiction Writers

Conclusion: there is a significant difference (15.9%) in the % of fanfic authors between Team Iron Man and Team Cap.

Overall conclusion: according to the data, Team Iron Man is more involved in the fandom than Team Cap. There are more fanfic writers among them, and more of them read comics and ship characters.

#marvel #mcu #mcu fandom #mcu study #team iron man #team cap #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes #loki #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #peter parker #bruce banner #stephen strange

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fishenjoyer1 · 27 days ago

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Fish of the Day

Happy Monday, everybody! Today's fish of the day is the colossal squid!

The colossal squid, also known by scientific name Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni. This squid is known for being the largest invertebrate, and largest squid in the world! This squid is incredibly unique, being the only known animal in the genus Mesonychoteuthis, which is within the family of glass squids, Cranchiidae. Some of you may have seen in the recent news that humans have, for the first time since discovering the species, recorded a colossal squid in its natural habitat. This is a huge advancement, as previous to this all recorded film and video of these animals consisted of sick, injured, or otherwise dying adults! Previously, capturing this species in video and as a sample has only happened a handful of times throughout history, since our discovery of the colossal squid in 1925. This is believed to be due to the location of this squid. The colossal squid can be found in and around the Southern Ocean, ranging from the area around Antarctica to the southern tips of Africa, New Zealand, and South America. Most often found in the Weddell sea, close to the trenches surrounding the Antarctic west. Another reason for the rarity of this animal is due to their often exceptional depth. We know due to sperm whale predation activity that adult colossal squid can be found as high up as 2,200 meters below the surface. But, it is believed that their range may go well below that. Colossal squids hatch in shallow waters, with surviving individuals slowly migrating into deeper and deeper waters as their lives progress. Juveniles, the most often predated on, can be found within the top 1000 meters below sea level.

There is often a comparison made between the colossal squid and the giant squid Architeuthis dux, due to the large size of each cephalopod. Giant squid happen to be the longest cephalopod, coming in at just over 14 meters long in a recorded specimen, and with talk of specimens over 20m existing. This is compared to the colossal squid, which is considered the largest due to the far heavier weight than that of the giant squid. The colossal squid has a body that can weigh around 495kg (1,100lbs), with a body length from 10-14 meters. The mantle alone stretches from 2-4 meters, and below that are 8 arms and two feeding tentacles. These tentacles are known for a unique feature found only in the Cranchiidae family, a series of 25 rotatable hooks, which are used to catch and hold prey. These squids are also well known for having the largest eyes of any animal, 30-40cm in diameter or 12-16in. These eyes partially work in the depth due to a series of photophores, or light producing organs found around the arms of the squid, and in the eyes themselves.

This eye is used not only by the squid to catch prey, but also to hide from predators. As indicated by the hooks of the colossal squid, they expend no energy on chasing down prey. Instead these giants of the deep will progressively move downward as they grow and age, always moving to where they can no longer be seen by prey animals, lying still and in wait for prey to come close enough before they lunge. These eyes serve a purpose as having the ability to see where potential prey is above or in front of them, regardless of the oppressive darkness around them. These, of course, also double as a tool to avoid predation, as these eyes can see movement well beyond 120 meters, longer than the sonar range of a sperm whale. This of course is to make up for the fact that despite their ability to hear noises, they can only perceive noises below 500 hz. Well below the high pitched noises of sonar. Many large whales hunt for colossal squid, primarily the sperm whale, but others such as pilot whales, and cuvier's beaked whale are also known for sporting the scars of colossal squid battle. These colossal squid are mostly associated with the sperm whale as the sperm whale is the main predator, going so far as to make up 77% of the diet of Antarctic sperm whale pods.

Most of their prey is patagonian toothfish, lanternfish, deep-sea smelt, and other squid; which are torn apart by the large chitin beak. This rips prey into fine ribbons as the brain of the squid surrounds the esophagus in a donut shape, so all food must be tiny. Influenced by their hunting behavior, these squid do not actively chase after prey, despite their impressive ability to swim upwards of 20mph. Once again influenced by their hunting prowess, these squid expend no energy on hunting, and in almost all cases of found specimens have an entirely empty stomach, leading to the idea they may be able to survive long periods of time without food. Some estimates even state they can live off of 5kg of food supporting 500kg of squid for up to 200 days, although this may be influenced by all current caught specimens being near death, or already dead.

The swimming pattern of the colossal squid is a hotly debated topic, as the position of their front facing eyes would mean holding their arms out in front of them would block the view. This is why there is ongoing discussion as to if they likely swim in a "cockatoo" or "reverse cockatoo" position. The cockatoo position is one where the arms are held above the head, making the feeding tentecles on the bottom longer, and easier to catch prey, this can be supported by the position of the hooks. This would substantially cover the eyes however. The reverse cockatoo on the other hand positions the arms flat and below the mantle, which is supported only by the location of the eyes. However, we won’t know for sure until there is video of an adult squid.

Information on the lifecycle of colossal squid is minimal, but we do know some key details. Like all squids, the colossal produces a mass of eggs. After these eggs are laid in the uppermost waters of the Southern Ocean, they go through an unknown length juvenile stage, where they are primarily translucent. A long thought theory, proven true for the first time by the first ever wild specimen captured on video. As time goes on, these squid will progressively move into deeper and deeper waters, as they become a striking red color, their eyes grow larger, and bioluminescence develops. This depth serves several roles to the squid, as it allows them protection from predators, and an ability to hide in the shadows, waiting to lunge at prey. Young, most still entirely translucent, can be found at depths of 0-500 meters, adolescents ranging from 500-2000, and full grown adults stretching from anywhere below 2000 meters. There is no current known maximum depth the colossal squid ranges. The lifespan of the colossal squid is currently unknown, but sexual maturity is estimated to occur anywhere from 1-3 years of age. In warm summer months of the Antarctic when surface waters can get as high as a whooping 0 to 0.9 degrees Celsius the colossal squid of age will come together to breed. Nothing is known about how colossal squid find one another, or where they meet. However, we do know that unlike most other cephalopods the colossal squid males contain penises, which they use to implant sperm directly into female squids. As opposed to the regular squid method of broadcasting sperm into the water over or around eggs. The female squid will then make a last journey to the surface, and it's thought possibly to the same location she was born in. This is where she will lay her thousands of eggs, in these warm shallow waters, before passing away. Like all cephalopods, after breeding the colossal squid dies too. This is the time period all living colossal squid have been caught by humans.

The human history of cataloguing and seeing the colossal squid starts 100 years ago in 1925. Found partially digested in the belly of a sperm whale the tentacles were found with their distinctive hook structures, discovered by E. Hamilton. After this the next specimen was found in 1981 as a juvenile female only 4 meters long found along the surface of the Ross sea in the Antarctic. In 2003 a second specimen was collected, a subadult female found along the surface only 8meters long. The first recording of a colossal squid was taken in 2005, a rather unclear video of a squid taking a tooth fish off the line of a deep sea fisher at a depth of 1,625meters below surface. After that is perhaps the most notable capture of an adult female who had recently spawned, found weak and sickly beside a deep sea fishing boat in 2007. She was 10meters long and collected by the fishers and taken to the nearby New Zealand. This is where the preserved sample remains in their national museum. This preserved sample is how we know that larger colossal squids exist, as far larger beaks have been found in the stomach of sperm whales. After this is the most recent sighting of the colossal squid, recorded in late March of 2025 is the first ever recorded sighting of a colossal squid in its natural habitat. Recorded by the Schmidt’s Oceanographic institute near the South Sandwich Islands at a depth of 600 meters we recorded a juvenile colossal squid. Only 30cm or around 12 inches long, and still translucent in color primarily, with some coloration implying they may be able to turn translucent. This sighting is particularly exciting as the first wild sighting of a live and healthy squid, and we’ll be seeing more information about these animals over time!

That’s the colossal squid everybody! Hope everyone is having a wonderful day and had a good time learning about the squid!

#fish of the day #fish #fishblr #marine biology #aquatic #nature #animal #animal facts #animals #aquatic biology #ocean #squid #colossal squid #giant squid #cephalopods #freshwater fish #Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni

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