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#socrates was an asshole
llamagoddessofficial · 5 months
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GRJRHRJDJRJD YOUR FARM SANS STUFF IS MAKING MY BRAIN BUZZZZZZ
What if some rich city dude started vying for Farm Sans' love interest? Like the dude is a total douche, and he turns around and tries to take Sans' girl? >:3
It's probably one of those assholes who buys a second/third home in the countryside, out-pricing local families, so he can have an 'escape' he only lives in for a month out of the year. He's in town to 'get away from it all' for a while.
This dude sets off all of Sans' alarm bells when he flirts with you. With any other person, Sans' reaction would depend on whether or not you were into them. He'd respectfully back off if you genuinely liked someone. But honestly, this douche's vibes are so rancid that Sans is going to be constantly brittle and cold and on the offensive. He has a few tactics up his sleeve.
For one - he uses his community connections. This guy (we'll call him Douche) is NOT welcome here, and Sans rubs it in. Country communities are tight-knit, can be pretty closed off, and are often actively hostile to people like Douche. Douche can barely buy groceries, people either ignore him or speak in cold and brusque tones, the snub from Sans and Papyrus means people will hardly look at him. Not to mention you've been so deeply accepted that it's as if you were born and raised there; nobody wants Douche to win you over. With or without Sans' encouragement, other folk will gossip to you about what a terrible person Douche is. "Oh, don't hang around with his sort, MC. You're such a sweetheart."
Sans is relatively oblivious to how his physique is attractive to you. But he's not oblivious to how physically intimidating he can be. He enjoys casual displays of his overwhelming strength, and the terror he witnesses in Douche's eyes; nothing shuts Douche up faster than having to watch his romantic rival wrangle a bull with just his hands. Sans will wander up to Douche (particularly while Douche is trying to chat you up) holding a sack of grain in one hand like it's nothing - "hey buddy, think you can hold this for me for a few secs?" - and then Sans will watch in glee as Douche tips over under its weight.
... Sans' favourite, though, is playing mind games. He fully leans into the 'dumb country guy' stereotype, acting like he's lazy and stupid, playing up his accent and easygoing tone. Until anytime Douche tries to seem smart. Then, in a searingly faux-friendly manner, Sans nitpicks him apart, correcting him on even the most complicated issues. "hey man, pretty sure socrates said that, not plato." "actually it's gravitational lapsing that causes that effect. lensin' is somethin' else entirely." "well i don't know about no NFTs... but i do know the blockchain is only as strong as its weakest link, an' deregulation makes it impossible to recover any phished money. seems like an inherently flawed system and no real way to store yer hard earned cash. but what do i know?" This also doubles as a way of making Sans look better in front of you, because you had no idea he was so smart.
Douche honestly doesn't stand a chance. But it's fun to watch him flounder.
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wittlesissyb4by · 23 days
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Alphabet Soup
She really could steep so low when she was angry. He wasn’t suggesting she was dumb. He was just saying he’s smarter than her. Logically, there’s gotta be one above the other in a relationship, doesn’t there??
Ryan always prided himself on his intelligence. Constantly correcting people’s grammar, inserting a fun fact, discussing philosophy at length, and the only reason people spaced out when he started relaying the Socratic method of question and answer was because they couldn’t possibly match his intellect. But, most importantly, he always had to let Wren know when she was wrong, he couldn’t have her going around embarrassing him with inaccuracies. Just the other day she said there’s “got to be a million mosquitos out tonight”, and obviously there couldn’t possibly be that much. As smart he was, he couldn’t understand why she would get so butthurt about him correcting her in front of all of their friends. 
“You treat me like I’m stupid, Ryan! All the fucking time. I’m a doctor for crying out loud! I may not know everything, but I’m not an idiot!” She was white hot, taking sharp breaths to keep her blood from overheating. “And you know what? Not that it matters or I would ever fucking care, but do you ever think maybe, just maybe, I could know a little bit more than you about certain subjects? Like, everyone has their strengths Ryan…”
She looked at him expectantly, glaring into his soul, could he just admit he was wrong about something for once? Ryan could have kept himself from smiling–if he was just a smidge less smug. “I’m sorry, but in the years we’ve been dating, I just haven’t found something you’re smarter than me at. And if you really believe in hypnosis, you may be dumber than I thought…”
Steam erupted from Wren’s ears.
“Jesus, you are the most arrogant asshole I have ever met!”
“What??” Ryan scoffed exaggeratedly, throwing up his hands as Wren stormed off, “I’m just saying that that hypno bullshit is a bunch of crap! I don’t care how many so called ‘studies’ you try to show me! There’s no way you could possibly think that works!!”
Wren stopped in her tracks, clenching her fists. She wanted to just go into the room, slam the door, and make him sleep on the fucking couch, but she just couldn’t let him win this one. She couldn’t let him even think he had her beat, even if it was just in his own fucked up head. 
Letting out a hefty sigh to maintain her composure, she pivoted on her heels. “How about this…” She said through gritted teeth, “you think you’re sooo smart? Well we’ll see. I’ll bet you that in one month, I can drop your IQ down to less than 20.”
Ryan had no choice but to absolutely guffaw at the proposition. “Are you kidding? Twenty?! Wren, my IQ is at least 140, no way you could actually lower it. Much less by that much! I mean, Twenty?! That’s like, the average IQ of a todd–”
“Do we have a deal or not?!” Wren interrupted with rolling eyes.
“Well you haven’t set the stakes, young lass.” He said with a swaggering smirk, “What do I get if I win?” Ryan replied, crossing his arms.
It was Wren’s turn to scoff. “Pshh, I really don’t care…cause you’re not going to win. Name your prize.”
“Blowjob.” Ryan said almost without a thought, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even gotten one. He had no idea why.
“Fine.” Wren said without even blinking.
“Every day.”
“Sweetie,” she said, softening her tone as she brushed a hand to his cheek, bringing her face so close that he could feel her breath on his lips, then let out a whisper, “If you can maintain an IQ above 50, I’ll give you three of them! Every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Ryan laughed, unable to find this preposterous notion any more amusing. “You’re really that confident?”
“If you agree to my methods without putting up a fuss? Yes. I absolutely am. I bet I can make you so stupid in just a month that you won’t even remember the fucking alphabet by the time I’m done with you!””
Ryan grinned from ear to ear. This was going to be the easiest bet of his life. His balls would never be full. 
“You’re on.”
******
Ryan scoffed at the patronizing nature of it. Was she really going to make him use his left hand?
“You have to color while you listen to the tape.” Wren told him when she placed a crayon in his hand. She sat him down ‘criss-cross applesauce’ in front of a little table with a coloring book on it. Wren flipped it open to the first page, which had a big letter ‘A’ on it. 
“Now Ry-Ry, can you tell me what letter this is?” She asked in a sardonic tone. 
“It’s an A.” Ryan grumbled, rolling his eyes. 
“And can you tell me what ‘A’ stands for?”
“Apple, asparagus, aardvark, apostesism…”
“Very good, Ry-Ry!!” She clapped mockingly, pulling out a large set of headphones. “Now you just sit here and color your wittle pages while you listen to this lovely music! I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours…”
“Hours??” Ryan repeated incredulously. Was she really going to make him sit and do a fucking coloring book for that long? There were much better things he could be doing with his time. But he had to play her game. A bet was a bet, and he planned to prove her wrong. 
She tapped something on her phone and the music kicked on shortly after. Much to Ryan’s chagrin, it wasn’t even good mysic like Bach or Tchaikovsky or even Tame Impala, it was some nursery lullaby bullshit, but with a weird reverb effect added to it. He could also hear faint little voices in the background, but they were too drowned out by the other noises for him to discern what they were saying. He could only pick out certain words like ‘baybee’ and ‘diapers’ and ‘poo poo’s”, which made sense, because it was nursery rhymes. 
He found himself zoning out, but that was just from the sheer boredom of it all. He was better than this. He’d submitted dissertations on complex epigenetic interactions of the human genome, and now he was just coloring the letter A a hundred times over. 
How was she going to make hom forget the alphabet if she was ‘teaching’ them to him? Maybe she was just exaggerating, it’s literally impossible to forget something that’s been embedded in his brain since before school even started. 
After what felt like an eternity, she finally came over and tapped him on the shoulder, removing the headphones. His mind was a little hazy, but again, it was probably just from the lack of any complex thought for the first time in his life. She shooed him and allowed him to resume his more age-appropriate activities. 
*****
The next day went much like the first, except instead of ‘A’, he was doing the letter ‘B’. 
“Boredom, beneath, balderdash.” Ryan sighed, listing off words to convey how ridiculous this whole thing was. 
“And…” Wren said, placing something down on the table next to the Crayons. “ Bottle.”
Ryan chuckled heartily. It was an actual bottle. A baby bottle, with a little nipple and everything. 
“You can’t be serious.”
“Do you give up?”
“No.” Ryan said quickly, “but i’m not drinking…whatever that is. Especially not out of that!”
Wren just shrugged. “You don’t have to, but it’s there if you get hungry.”
She put the headphones over his ears once more, clicked them on, and left the room. 
Ryan was already over this whole thing, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of quitting. He swirled the blue crayon through the loops of the big B’s while the music played. The little voices seemed to be louder this time, but it still wasn’t worth paying attention to. 
About halfway through his 4 hour session though, Ryan’s mouth felt a bit dry. Something at the back of his throat was pulsing. His cheeks felt empty.  For whatever reason, he needed to have something in there. 
At first he bit his nails. That was nice, for a little. But that soon turned to his finger tip, and eventually his whole thumb. 
After another hour of suckling his fingers, he looked to the bottle. He was hungry, and Wren refused to give him cheerios and goldfish like she did yesterday. 
He picked up the bottle, pressing the rubber nipple to his lips. Jesus that felt good! He gave a little suckle, then another, then gagged. The liquid wasn’t milk, it was…something else. It tasted awful. But he couldn’t stop drinking. The nipple felt too good in his mouth, it was worth putting up with the disgusting flavor. 
He finished every last drop. 
Wren had to practically pry the bottle from his hands when it was time to remove his headphones. Ryan couldn’t explain why he was so attached to it all of a sudden. Why was he getting so angry and flustered over such a silly thing?
Thankfully, Wren had an alternative ready, another ‘B’ word:
Binky. 
******
Ryan sucked on it the whole night. His cheeks ached in the morning, but luckily a fresh bottle helped to ease the pain. 
His brain felt fuzzy, but it was probably because he didn’t sleep that well. He was too busy worrying about the binky possibly falling out of his mouth while he slept. 
The lack of sleep was also why he couldn’t think of complicated ‘C’ words. He could only come up with ‘Car’, Cat, and whatever the word is for the thing you put water and juice in. 
Luckily, after his hypno session, Wren had the perfect thing to help him sleep better: a Crib. 
******
Something happened that night. Maybe his bottle leaked, or maybe it was the ceiling. But when he rolled over from his cramped position in the undersized crib, the sheets were warm and wet. 
Wren assured him that this happens all the time but, just in case, she had something for him to wear. 
Ryan threw an absolute fit when he saw what it was. She was holding up a big giant diaper. 
He tried to tell her off, but his mind was too foggy to form a coherent argument. He really wasn’t sleeping well. 
Still, he tried to fight her when she took his hands and laid him down, but his arms and legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. It felt like he was moving through molasses. 
She had him on his back. He stared at the clouds on the ceiling. Were those always there? Or was that just his vision? No, they had to be new. His whole room was starting to look different. Another large cloud floated into view. But it wasn’t a cloud, it was a diaper. 
His mind was back. She wanted him to wear a diaper. Absolutely not! This was perposter— prepos—perslweterous. 
“D’awww!! Don’t be scared!!” Wren cooed, it sounded like angels singing. “It’s just a wittle diapurr!! You’ll get used to them!”
Ryan felt something screaming inside him. Something deep down. But then Wren said “look! It has the ABC’s printed on it!” And that made him feel better. He recognized those letters, even though he couldn’t think of much else. 
But the padding felt weird when she slid it underneath him. Not bad. Just…weird. Different. Like something wasn’t right. 
He started squirming on the floor, flailing as much as he could, but even in his foggy vision he could see that his arms were only making minor twitches. 
So he did the only thing he knew he could do: he started crying. C-c-Crying. That starts with a C! He knew that for sure. He was so smart. 
He felt the tears slide down his face, one after another. He could hear his wails, could hear how ridiculous it sounded, but he didn’t want to stop. That is, until something rubbery entered his mouth. Then he immediately stopped crying, and felt instantly better. 
He suckled the binky while Wren made a cloud of powder between his legs. He watched as she pulled the diaper up and taped it on. It was hard for him to explain—especially now—but he felt this amazing sense of comfort once it was on. He really liked it. Which may be why something warm and sticky formed inside the diaper almost immediately. 
He spent the rest of the day coloring in ‘D’s’ while wearing his diaper. 
A few times he had to get up to use the restroom, but Wren insisted the headphones needed to stay on, even if his diaper was down. A very agitating song played the entire time he was on the toilet, and the words that the voices used were not very nice. It made him feel bad, very bad, almost guilty for doing something so silly as using the potty. 
Ryan didn’t get a bottle that night, just some chicken nuggets that Wren had taken the liberty of cutting into tiny pieces for him. 
When he was done, she took him by the hand to his new room. He didn’t know why, he didn’t need her help, but without her he probably would have gotten lost. Not because he was dumb, but because he just wasn’t used to sleeping in the guest room. 
Wren stopped in front of his new crib, making a show of checking his diaper. Another absurd display, just because he was playing her little game and wearing this stupid garment didn’t mean he would actually use it. So when she was finally satisfied that every square centimeter was not wet or ‘messy’, he climbed into the crib. 
When he laid back on the plastic mattress, he noticed there was a new mobile hanging above him. It had little geometric shapes and symbols that he didn’t feel like naming right now because he was tired, he could definitely do it if he wanted to though!
She placed his binky in his mouth and he gratefully accepted it, he was terrified of having to spend the night without something in his mouth.
Wren clicked a little button and the dangling shapes on the mobile started to spin. It was mesmerizing, even more so because it played a happy little tune from the speakers. The very same tune that played through his headphones earlier that day.
 ******
Ryan’s diaper was plump and swollen the next morning. His mind wasn’t as fuzzy, so he must have finally gotten a good night's sleep. 
Wait, his brain said, finally catching on to what was happening. He was in a diaper, and he’d wet it. Several times by the feel of it. 
Wren was smiling when she came through the door, even though Ryan was spewing vitriol. The words were coming easier to him again, but so was the gravity of his situation. Had she really been making him wear diapers and drink from bottles??
Wren continued to smile like a mother letting her little one get his tantrum out. Ryan hung over the bars of the crib, he was too scared to climb out himself, but he wasn’t scared to call Wren all sorts of names. 
After almost a minute of Ryan’s blabbering, Wren had had enough. She clicked a button on her phone which made the little mobile over Ryan’s bed start whirring again. Playing that tune that Ryan was really starting to grow attached to. 
Suddenly, Ryan didn’t even feel like calling Wren a bitch any more. He wasn’t even sure what that meant. Instead, he let out a hefty sigh, and brought his thumb to his mouth. He couldn’t find his pacifier. 
“How’s your diaper, little one? Did somewon have an uh oh’s last night?”
Even though Ryan was calm, he still felt this combative stirring rising from his chest. Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wear diapers. He knew he was too old for them. And he definitely knew he wasn’t supposed to pee in them. He shook his head ‘no’ in an exaggerated fashion. 
“No? You didn’t have an accident?” Wren tisked, squeezing the saturated padding, “what is this then?”
Ryan could feel shame welling up inside him. He was a grown man and he’d pissed inside a pair of pampers. He couldn’t even remember doing it. It was all while he was asleep, while those stupid songs were playing. He would do better. This would never happen again. She might have had an upper hand on him, getting him to agree to the diapers and cutesy shit, but he was not about to—wait. Was that a bottle??
He made grabby hands at the little container of off-white liquid, practically spilling some when he snatched it away from her. 
She let the bars of the crib down, allowing him to clamber out, rubber nipple not leaving his mouth. He would have walked, but he felt it was easier to scooch around on his knees.
About halfway through the liquid, Ryan felt something stirring in his tummy. 
“What is it, dear?” Wren asked sweetly, placing her hands on her knees while she smiled down at him. 
“I have to go potty.” Ryan said, unsure why he said it like that. 
“Oh?” Wren asked, looking overly surprised, “is it #1 or #2?”
Ryan couldn’t understand why she was talking about numbers right now. Wren giggled at what must have been a perplexed look. 
“Do you have to go pee pee or poo poo?” She clarified. 
“Poo poo.” Ryan said, feeling his face flush. Something told him this was a weird conversation with a little too much information, but he brushed that away. 
“D’aww! You need to make poopies?!” Wren exclaimed exaggeratedly, “well you don’t wanna have to go all the way to the bathroom do you? It’s a pretty long way…”
She was right. It was a long way, and his legs did feel tired…
“Hmmm…mayybee…” she said, deep in thought, tapping her chin, “maybe you could just use your diaper?”
The very thought was revolting. She wanted him to make a stinky poo’s all over himself? “Na uh! No way!” 
She dangled the binky in front of his face, “I'll give you a little present if you make a present for Mommy!”
Ryan immediately agreed, and he got to suck on his binky the entire time he was crouching down, pushing a warm load of mush into his pampers. 
Wren was so proud of him. She clapped and cheered and giggled uncontrollably, even while she pinched her nose and teased him about the smell. 
But with the warmth came a deep sense of displeasure. Disgust. A part of Ryan’s brain was ridiculing him for what he just did. The words were coming back to him now. 
“You’re doing something to me!” Ryan shouted. He knew it was wrong. Something was happening to him, he couldn’t figure out what, but he knew that the normal him wouldn’t like it! “Stop all this right now! Whatever it is you’re doing isn’t fair! You’ve got me shitting myself! I’m not doing this anymore! I’m not gonna—“
“Shhh…” Wren smiled, placing a hand to his droopy diaper. “Don’t be sad!” She whispered softly. Her voice was like honey, l angelic, the greatest sound in the whole world. “I’m your Mommy, remember? I’m right here.”
Ryan could feel his anger and shame evaporating from his body. 
“Do you want me to stop all of this?” She asked, rubbing her palm against the bulge of his diaper. “Do you want me to take your binky away?”
Ryan’s eyes immediately went wide. Why would she even say such a thing? Why would she need to take his binky??
“Nooo you don’t want that do you?”
Ryan heard himself whimpering, felt his head shaking. 
“And what about your diapers? Do you not like your diapers?”
No. He didn’t like them at all. They were sweaty and itchy, but they were also sooo soft…
“Do you think you should stop wearing them?”
His head moved up and down. 
“But what if you have another accident? What if you wet the bed again? That would be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”
It would. She was right. It would be embarrassing. 
“But if you wear a diaper you don’t have to worry about that do you? All your messes go in there! You don’t even have to walk all the way to the potty! You can use them any time, anywhere!”
She was making such good points. She always made good points. She really was so smart. 
Still, some weird logical part of his brain was firing again. 
“But I’m a big boy!” Ryan whined around his binky. 
“Oh?” Wren asked, shaken. “Do…big boys have accidents?”
Another great point. 
“And big boys surely wouldn’t use diapers, even on purpose!” Wren said, turning into a very scary tone. “But what did you just do, Ry-Ry?”
Ryan’s face flushed. “I pooped them.”
“You did what?”
“I made poo-poo’s…” he could feel the tears welling up again. He wasn’t even sure why. All of this was so confusing. 
“Awww! Don’t be sad!” Wren cooed, switching to that heavenly tone once more, “good baybees use their diapurrs all the time! Like you just did!!”
Ryan smiled, a flood of warmth seeped through his chest, and maybe also into his diaper as well. 
“And baybees that are good get to make a different type of mess, too!”
Ryan wasn’t sure what that meant, but Wren started rubbing the front of his diaper, squeezing it, massaging it, and that felt really good. 
“Tell me you’re a good baybee!” She said, rubbing faster. 
“I’m a good baybee!” Ryan squeaked. 
“Tell me what you did in your diaper.”
“I made pee pee’s and poo poo’s”
“Do you like making messies in your diapurrs?”
“Yes”
“Yes Mommy.” She corrected.
“Yes Mommy!”
“Which do you like to use better? The pampers? Or the potty?”
“The potty.”
She stopped rubbing. 
Panic coursed through Ryan’s veins. He was so close!
“Pampers!!” He corrected, “I prefer peeing and pooping pampers!!”
The rubbing started again. 
“Every time you poop your pampers, Mommy will give you a reward!” She said. 
Ryan nodded, moaning and groaning while Wren rubbed his defiled diaper. It felt so wrong, so disgusting, but he couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t tell her no, because it also felt so good!
It felt even better when he started spasming, and another warm load leaked into the padding. 
Wren patted his padded butt. “Such a good baybee!”
Even with her kind words, a huge rush of shame hit Ryan in the face. His horniness was gone, the haze was lifting, his complex thoughts were coming back, and so was his attention to this disgusting diaper! 
“Wren what the fuck are you doing to—“
But he couldn’t hear himself say the rest, because the headphones were back on his ears, and that lovely tune was playing again. His mind melted away, but before it did he could see her place the book in front of him again, a giant letter ‘E’ emblazoned across the page. 
“You just stay right here and finish your coloring” Wren said, even though he probably couldn’t hear her. He was laying down flat on his tummy, swishing back and forth in his pissy, poopy pamper, smiling and humming the little tune to himself.  “I’ll be back in a few hours to change your diaper.” She continued, patting him on the bottom, “Then we’re going to learn a new ‘E’ word: Enema!”
------------------------------
21 Letters to go! What else could be in store for little Ry-Ry? This is one of my favorite stories I've ever done, so if you would like to read the rest, head on over to SubStar! It's available for all tiers! Credit goes to @dj-kinkster for his help and ideas on making this story a reality!
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iliaclwrites · 2 years
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Ok I have to be honest I am a sucker for scenarios where Jason has a crush on y/n but she's dating Eddie. Eddie getting to rub it in jasons face is just so satisfying. Idk maybe I just really love Eddie and really hate Jason. Soooo I was wondering if I could request that. Maybe Jason is always flirting with her and Eddie is finally just like “fuck it” and kisses her right in front of him?
Tysm I'm in love with your writing btw ❤️❤️❤️
You were sitting with your friends on the lunch table, when you felt a heavy hand land on your shoulder. You look up, already starting to smile at the idea it was Eddie, only to come face to face with Jason Carver. The smile freezes. "Oh. Uh. Hi, Jason," you said, and took a sip of your CapriSun to cover your awkwardness. "What can I do for you?"
He smiled at you, and you swallowed thickly. "Well," he said, shifting his weight. "It's the big game tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like an invite to the afterparty. It's at mine."
You blinked. "What, on a Tuesday?"
"Um." He stared at you. "Yeah?"
You bit your lip. "I dunno, Jason. It's a schoolnight. I've got plans, too," you added. "I've got to do homework. Yeah." You nodded twice. "Mrs. Bryce is on my ass. Maybe next time, then?"
"Definitely next time," Jason responded, and winked at you. "Just you and me, I promise." When he left, your friends closed ranks around you, howling at what had just happened. You caught Eddie's eyes above their heads -- he was watching you, chin in his hand.
"What was that all about," he asked, walking you out of the cafeteria. "Jason wanted to recruit you to his Bible study, or something?" He tucked you hair behind your ear and twisted so he was leaning against a locker, watching you fumble.
"I think," you said slowly, piecing together the encounter in your brain, "he asked me out."
Eddie slipped against the locker. "What, like a date?"
"No, like a multi-level marketing scheme," you retorted, and flipped your hair over your shoulder. "Yes, like a date, Eddie." He crowed, punching a fist in the air. "Uh. That's not the reaction I was expecting."
Eddie grinned, pulling you into his arms. "That asshole has been a stick up my ass for almost my whole life," he exclaimed. "Finally I have the high ground."
You looked at him drily. "What am I, chattel?"
He cooed, pressing your cheeks together between his palms. "Just the prettiest chattel this side of the Mississippi, babygirl." He snuck a kiss from you. "Aw, princess. This made my week. Nothing could make this better."
--
"Okay," Eddie huffed against your mouth as he pressed you up against the hood of your car, "this could definitely make my week better. Get my lawyer to scratch that from my record."
"Oh my god," you muttered, pulling him between your legs. "Literally, shut up."
"Shutting up."
Eddie threaded his hands through your hair, tugging it gently until your mouth opened against his, sticking his hands in the pockets of your jeans and grabbing. "Eddie!" you gasped, wrenching your head back. "Quit it, we're in school."
"Mmm," he mumbled, nosing at your neck. "It's technically after hours." That was true. You were picking him up from Hellfire, taking him back to yours for dinner with your parents, like you did every Tuesday night. "Is a school still a school if it's not operating as a school?"
"I dropped AP Philosophy," you whispered, entirely too focused on how his hands were snaking up your back. "So I have no idea."
"I don't really care," Eddie agreed, "but we can totally have a Socratic debate about it la-aaaaah the fuck?"
He was hauled away from you by his collar, arms flailing at his assailant. Jason. "The fuck are you doing here, freak?" Jason spat, before turning to look at you. "Hey. Is he bothering you?"
"Uh," you said, intelligently. "No?"
Jason blinked. "Wh-- you? What are you doing here?" he asked you, staring. "I thought you said you had to do homework?"
"Hi," Eddie said, dangling from Jason’s iron grip. "I'm homework."
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entryn17 · 2 months
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never gonna forget when i made a post that essentially boiled down to "don't treat kids like shit and if they're snarky with you (the adult in the situation) you can disengage and move on with your life" and i had a 26 year old in the notes like "um actually maybe they shouldn't go on the internet in the first place? because adults inflict consequences on each other for bad behavior?" as if
1) it's pathologically impossible for you to communicate in a normal way about what's bothering you instead of resorting to hissing at people like a pissy cat
2) that's a universal internet rule + experience and not extremely indicative of the kind of space you have cultivated for yourself to the point you felt the need to frame it like you're engaging in a socratic battle royale and
3) it's a possible thing to achieve. it's like those people who whine about babies on planes and wishing there were adult-only flights. if the existence of children in public is bothering you because it's expected of you to not be an antagonistic asshole for 5 minutes then just go live in an isolated shack in the woods
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aqueeracademic · 6 months
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Gayest House Scenes:
Season 1:
Unfortunately, episodes 1-4 didn’t have quite the quality of gayness I was looking for. We begin at 5:
Season 1, Episode 5: “Damned if You Do”
W: Maybe I'll come to your place.
H: Your wife doesn’t mind being alone on Christmas?
W: I’m a doctor. She’s used to being alone.
H: …
W: I don’t wanna talk about it.
H: Neither do I.
Note: and then Wilson ACTUALLY FUCKING WENT TO HOUSE’S PLACE FOR CHRISTMAS. and House played the piano for him and they ate chinese food because neither of them celebrate christmas at all, actually; they just wanted to be together. They just wanted to be together during the season of love and family. I'm so sick. 
Season 1, Episode 6: “The Socratic Method”
Foreman: I thought he liked rationality.
Wilson: He likes puzzles.
H: You think I’m crazy. 
W: Well, yeah. But that’s not the problem.
Season 1, Episode 7: “Fidelity”
W: Oh. That’s what breasts look like.
H: You love everyone. That’s your pathology.
W: *watches House leave longingly”
Cameron: Did he just turn on the TV?
Wilson: He needs to think.
 
W: That’s all! I mean it. 
H: You always do. It’s part of your charm.
W: I love my wife. 
H: You love saying it.
 
Season 1, Episode 12: “Sports Medicine”
H: You thought I couldn’t handle this news?
W: …
H: You talk to her a lot?
W: No. It’s been a long time. Look, if you don’t want me to see her-
H: What is this, eighth grade? I’m fine.
W: It’s fine if you’re upset!
H: No! It’s- I have no right to be upset. You two are friends. You should see her.
Season 1, Episode 14: “Control”
W: Since when do I need the secret code to talk to you?
H: You value our friendship more than your ethical responsibilities?
W: Our friendship is an ethical responsibility.
Note: that asshole chairman figured out he couldn’t threaten House, so he threatened Wilson's job instead to keep House in line. I’m sick?
Season 1, Episode 17: “Role Model”
W: House, I believe you’re a Romantic.
Season 1, Episode 18: “Babes and Bathwater”
Note: Wilson didn’t vote House out. and the chairman was so offended he decided to fire Wilson instead. Wilson fr put his whole career on the line, knowingly, to make sure House could stay. I'm SO SICK.
 
W: I got sacked.
H: Did you make a pass at Cuddy? I told you, she only has thighs for me.
W: …I voted to keep you.
H: Is he gonna sack everyone who votes to keep me around?
W: Yes. Every one of us.
H: …Just you?
W: Yeah.
W: I have no kids. My marriage is all messed up. I only have two things that work for me: This job and this stupid, screwed up friendship. And neither mattered enough to you to give one lousy speech.
H: They matter. If I could do it all again…
W: You’d do the same thing.
H: Nice job protecting me! You saved my ass by sacking Wilson?
Note: House lets Wilson sit in his chair and doesn’t make him move. He makes everyone else move. He doesn’t make Wilson move.
 
Season 1, Episode 19: “Kids”
W: My advice is much more simple: stop being an ass. You always find some tiny little flaw to push people away.
H: Now it’s people? I thought we were talking about applicants.
W: You have a history of this.
Note: When Wilson tells house he’s “going to end up alone”, House just stares at him. i am WELL AWARE they were discussing women, but they were discussing why House always pushes women away. and then Wilson tells him he’s gonna be alone and House just stares at him???? like stares at him like he just said something both crazy and hurtful???? like he thought he would have Wilson in the end????
 
Season 1, Episode 20: “Love Hurts”
H: He peed on me. I’m not into that.
W: It’s apple juice! Now, go apologize.
Note: House immediately does what he’s told and finds the patient he yelled at.
 
W: I just want to make sure no one gets hurt.
Cameron: I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going out with Jack the Ripper.
W: Oh, it’s not… it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s been a long time since he opened up to someone, and I… you better be absolutely sure that you want this, because if he opens up again and gets hurt… I don’t think there’s gonna be a next time.
C: You’re worried I’m gonna break his heart?
W: …
H: This is a mistake. I don’t know how to have a casual conversation.
*Wilson rolls eyes*
Note: Why the literal hell would Wilson be at House’s place helping him get ready? Helping him with his tie? i’m sick.
 
Note: “What I am is what you need. I’m damaged.” HELLLLOOOOOO????????? i’m gonna eat my hands
 
Season 1, Episode 21: “Three Stories”
Note: “I’m not busy. But I’m not sure I want him to live.” HELLO IM GONNA JUMP OUT THE WINDOW??????????
Season 1, Episode 22: “Honeymoon”
Note: “Some part of me hopes that he’ll die. I’m just not sure if it’s because I want to be with her, or if it’s because I want her to suffer.” HELLLLOOOOOOO????????? This line just sniped me from behind.
Note: Stacey and I actually have SO MUCH beef. She better watch her back.
Note: “I thought you were too screwed up to love anyone. I was wrong. You just couldn’t love me.” As wack as I think Cameron’s relationship with House is, this line killed me.
Note: The audacity of Stacey to tell House she’s still in love with him and always will be just to tell him she won’t be with him?? Like what is actually wrong with you. Let my boy catch a BREAK.
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praisethesuuun · 1 year
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this is my first time writing for him so pls be kind with me ////also, english is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes
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Buddha x poet!reader: sweet as lollipop
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Type: fluff
Warnings: swearing
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“And then I punched him in the face!”
“That’s wonderful, Lord Zeus” said Y/N sitting on one of the sofas of the room. They were sitting there for hours now, but the god wanted the job done by the end of the day. Listening to him non-stop was one of the hardest things in the world, especially if he never stopped praising himself. ‘Did he even do all those things? Probably not’ thought Y/N completely exhausted. They breathed a sigh of relief when Zeus realized what time it was, kicking them out of the room and leaving him alone in the middle of the hallway.
“Narcissist bitch, what the hell do I do now?”
Well, there wasn’t usually so much fun for gods like them: art and poetry were appreciated, but everyone always preferred the strongest deities like Hercules, Zeus or Poseidon. And now Y/N was on Olympus only to write about all the “beautiful adventures” the others made, but for what? Money? A god doesn’t need it. Fame? A lot of people already worshipped them. So why…why were they suffering so much? Exactly, for nothing.
Sometimes Y/N asked themeselves why couldn’t they leave and do whatever they wanted, but everytime they realized why; everyone on Olympus has a place, a part to play, and theirs was to be there and tell the true story of the gods. Only this way would humans have spread the truth.
But, of course, their job had his perks. Like that time Y/N decided to inspire their poets to tell the story of how Ares ended up trapped in a giant vase and how he managed to stay there for days. Needless to say that everyone was laughing their ass off on Olympus when they found out; or the time Y/N and Hermes spread the rumor of Aphrodite's presumed death. She was so angry!
Walking through Valhalla they stopped in the middle of one of the many fields of flowers. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief even though their tranquility didn't last long.
“There you are!” said a voice from behind them.
“What are you doing here, Buddha?”
Y/N hated that damn god. Buddha was always trying to get on their nerves, constantly criticizing them about how they’re not able to go against Zeus and get a life. The diety of poetry growled before answering: “If you’re here to tell me how shitty I am maybe you should go somewhere else”
Buddha laughed. “Wasn’t expecting such low language for you”
Internally he was really hoping to change something in Y/N’s existance: soon there would be Ragnarok and humans would need a guide, a foretaste of the end of humanity, a refuge in art. But Zeus kept Y/N in check and wanted to avoid giving any kind of help to humans, "for fun" he said, even if it was only cruelty.
“Why don’t you do something?” he said. “There you go. Please, I’m just tired and I don’t need another one of Socrate’s like speech…damn, that guy is even worst than you…”
“Just think about it, you’re not like Zeus, you're kinder”
“I’m a god, I’m made of stone”
“You can’t be: you’re a poet” and having said this, Buddha sat down beside them. He started sucking on his lollipop, his eyes lazily watched the colorful field. His head slowly bent to one side, getting close to Y/N's ear, his voice now a whisper: “Help us go against the Heavens”
Y/N's heartbeat stopped completely and their hands started to sweat. Betrayal. Were they even able to backstab everyone? Of course they were. All the days spent writing other people's bullshit, silly minors gods’ poems, hand cramps... Buddha was offering them a chance. The poet had to think carefully: Brunhilde and Buddha were already on humanity's side, it is impossible for the other gods to do like them, so they’re on their own. But even if they accepted, what would they actually change? They are only a deity of poetry after all.
Buddha stood up, rousing them from their thoughts. "Well, if you want to join the club of assholes, give me a ring, but decide quickly. You know very well that there's no more time"
He’s right. So why not give him the answer. “I’m in”
“What? Really?”
“You heard me. Let’s go destroy the whole Olympus”
“That’s the spirit!” screamed the other god picking them up and squeezing them as hard as he could, after all, this may be his only opportunity to do so. He was scared that he had made a mistake and that he might push the other away with that sudden gesture of his, but he relaxed when he felt the grip being reciprocated. Y/N was about to get a shot of life, that thing that they never really fully got.
The poet felt so strange: nobody even dared to touch them or didn't even cared. Everyone looked at their works, not the artist: that gesture so sincere made them feel like jelly and, for the first time after literal eons, they felt at peace. The god's hands encircled their sides, while one of them caressed their back. What they were doing was dangerous, too dangerous, and Buddha began to wonder if he had made the right decision to ask the other to join his rebellion. But he knew it has to be done.
“We’re gonna make it. I promise” thought Buddha with the other still in his arms.
Time seemed to stop for a few moments, the two of them existed and that's it. Y/N was considering their choice again, yet Buddha's encouraging squeeze erased all thought from them. Fate smiled at them and they did the same.
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corujalesbica · 7 months
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Inspired by this post I give you:
Are we not sure if Socrates ever even existed? Yes. Did Aristotle defend slavery? Yeah. Is Plato a Lil bitch whose dUaLiTy chases me to this day? Tots
Still
Let's Fuck Mary Kill some dead Greek assholes
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sayrahtonin · 2 months
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blah blah but i wish i were a painter.
rather than some poet.
I wish i could twist heads and be admired in a museum.
but i’m restricted to pen and paper and thoughts about oranges and November’s.
I wish i could break into the minds of van gogh and monet and learn their brilliance.
i have a blind date with socrates.
but even he knows it isn’t worth it.
Because if i cannot preach or paint all i have is pen
and sheet and pen and sheet and pen.
and a million words no one would dare to read.
And I wonder what would happen if i lost my journal.
I would how many holes would be in my wall.
I wonder if i’d have some same strange fate like Dazai.
Because like him- I’ll write too much of everything of anything of all of what i am.
Though his was published without him knowing.
and most likely for the best.
I wonder if i’d be better off that way alike.
it would fall into the same sad melancholy/corecore/cathartic/snarky/ butt piss books pretentious assholes will read to have a one up on the world.
But if i painted and it was hung up at a gallery.
only then would someone have to explain it.
a title and description and history.
whatever i’m over it now.
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checkoutmybookshelf · 1 month
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Re-reading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years
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Hi, Hello, Welcome! The conceit of these posts is pretty self-explanatory. I read the Lord of the Rings for the first time at age 17, in the middle of my parent's divorce (it was messy, we're not going into any details). Needless to say, I remember pretty much nothing about that read, and I would like to give the books a fair shake of a re-read. That's what this is, and there will be spoilers throughout!
I usually do full-book reviews, but if ever I was going to do a chapter-by-chapter re-read, it would be for LotR. The rules are that I'm going in as blind as I possibly can (I have watched the movies and have absorbed like...a reasonable amount of lore from existing on the internet as a millennial) and I'm not doing any research beyond like, defining words for myself as I read. So here we go, and I hope you enjoy rereading with me! Let's talk "The Shadow of the Past."
Good LORD JRR Tolkien can lore dump when he wants to. This chapter was mainly lore dump, which is fine because it was at least interesting lore dump. I'm not a lore girly though, I'm a character girly, so let's go with "we got the One Ring's backstory, now let me talk about other characters because the Ring isn't one just yet."
This is going to sound initially harsh, but it is said with affection: Gandalf is 1000% the pedantic asshole professor who is way too into the Socratic method who you absolutely detest in undergrad but somehow his classes still end up sticking with you more than any other. You then get to understand this prof better as a master's student, and deeply love this prof as a PhD. That's literally the vibe I'm getting from his lecture to Frodo about finding some goddamn pity and compassion for the tragedy that is Smeagol and Gollum. Because it is VERY easy to judge and be critical in the abstract, which Frodo very much is, having never encountered Gollum, and Gandalf has spent time and effort tracking down Gollum with way more background knowledge with which to contextualize the layers of tragedy that Gollum personifies and affects. It's a big ask, to get people to abstract compassion (and do not come in here and argue with me about this, I live in 20-goddam-24, I know what I'm talking about), but Gandalf kind of doesn't let it go with Frodo until Frodo at least softens his position and is open to, if not at, compassion. I've been a student and I've been a teacher, and these conversations are hard from both directions, so kudos to Gandalf for sticking with it, and to Frodo for getting to a place where he was truly listening.
Especially after Gandalf just CASUALLY DROPS that Gollum literally ATE BABIES. I'm not even kidding, he just casually, in the midst of an infodump on Gollum's time tracking Bilbo after losing the Ring, says,
The woodsmen said that there was some new terror abroad, a ghost that drank blood. It climbed trees to find nests, it crept into holes to find young, it slipped through windows to find cradles.
AND THEN WE JUST CASUALLY MOVE ON LIKE BABY EATING ISN'T SOMETHING WE NEED TO ADDRESS HERE. I would like to address the baby eating, Gandalf!!!
Despite not addressing the baby eating though, there was some interesting new information in the Gollum infodump that I understand why it got cut from the movies, but I was low-key fascinated. Smeagol was specifically noted to be interested in roots. Gandalf framed that like literal tree and mountain roots, but this is Tolkien we're talking about. Roots have a metric ton of metaphorical meanings too, and the fact that Smeagol was interested in the origins of things, in where they came from, in what made them as they are, is both deeply ironic and deeply interesting. I kind of hope we do more with that, since becoming Gollum is like ouroborosing roots; Smeagol's interest in Gollum is deeply self-reflexive, which might also be how we end up with that bifurcated personality thing. I dunno, but that would be really cool to follow up on.
I also deeply appreciated Frodo's "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" reaction to realizing that Gandalf had let him keep the One Ring for so long. Notably, Gandalf kind of doesn't explicitly apologize for putting Frodo at risk, but he does acknowledge that yes, yes he made a choice, took a risk, and put Frodo in some level of danger. I suppose we'll take it, even as we acknowledge that yes, Gandalf was working with imperfect, incomplete information. We do the best we can with what we know at the time, or something. And if it took 20-odd years to figure all of this out (which makes sense for the kind of field and archival work required here), then y'know what, better late than never.
That said, Gandalf also kind of...LIGHTLY SKATES OVER the fact that even just possessing the Ring and doing nothing with it for 20 years has affected Frodo. He's not aging. He can't cast it away. He's already caught. Right at the beginning, in CHAPTER TWO of this massive trilogy, it's not a matter of preventing Frodo from being caught by the ring. It's a matter of how long Frodo can resist. He was doomed before anyone knew, concretely, that there was a problem. And jaysus, if that isn't how you tee up a tragedy, I don't even know how you do that. Maybe there wasn't a good reason for Gandalf to say that to Frodo, maybe it would have hurt more than it helped, but I do kind of think PERHAPS YOU MIGHT POINT THIS OUT???
I get the sense that I'm going to be very back-and-forth on book Gandalf...this is going to be an interesting thing to watch develop as I keep reading.
In addition to Gandalf's "Backstory Via The Socratic Method 101" course, we also get some additional Samwise Gamgee in this chapter. Saying "I adore this hobbit and he should be protected at all costs" is not new or even interesting, so let's take a different tack. In the films, Sam's excitement for going to see the elves is...ungrounded. It's a thing about him that we just accept. I deeply relate to and adore the sense we get of why and how the elves thing comes about in the book:
He believed he had once seen and Elf in the woods, and still hoped to see more one day. Of all the legends that he had heard in his early years such fragments of tales and half-remembered stories about the Elves as the hobbits knew, had always moved him most deeply.
This might seem ungrounded, but it's deeply aware of how stories work. Sam knows that the hobbits don't have the extent of Elven lore that exists, but he knows that there is a magic and a power in even the fragments they have, and that captured his imagination to such an extent that a yearning to see, to understand, to know that magic, was born in his heart. That grounds Sam in stories just as much as Frodo is grounded in stories, and more than that, Sam WANTS the magic to be real in a way that Frodo, primed on all the tragedy by Gandalf, I don't actually think does. Frodo is "I wish it need not have happened in my time," but Sam is "Me go and see the Elves and all."
That "and all" at the end is particularly poignant, because if Sam knows some of the stories of the elves, I have to imagine a few tragic tales survived along with the magical ones, so Sam isn't going starry-eyed into this as a bumblefuck gardener from nowhere. There's an acceptance there of the magic that encompasses all that magic offers, both good and bad. Yeah, I'm probably over-reading into this, but I support it at least a little with the fact that at the beginning of the chapter, we're with Sam when the hobbits down the pub are talking about strange beings and creatures and *foreshadowing the ents*. Sam knows that the stories tell of more than just elves, but for him, that wonder is enough to warrant everything else. No, I am not taking criticism (constructive or otherwise) at this time.
Other than a wee shoutout to the legendary "Mad Baggins"--and let's be real, if history must become myth and myth must become legend, I want Mad Baggins to stay alive and not be forgotten--that's about all I have for this chapter. Professor Gandalf shows up to school Frodo and kick his ass out the door, and Sam gets to go see the elves. We'll pick up again next time with chapter 3.
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miscellanyofmusings · 9 months
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Rifftrax Sentence Starters
“______, didn’t I dispatch you to hell earlier?”
“ ______, shut up forever.” 
"Alright. That does it. I officially have no idea what we're looking at, why we're here, or even who I am anymore."
“And I pray that I never have to emote any more than I just did. I'm exhausted.”
“And if you're ready, _____, may I offer you a wide-awake nightmare?
“Aw man, I thought we could trust the slimy loser.”
“Being a creepy evil creep is a reward in and of itself.”
“Bland? I mean, honey? Can I make you some bland milk? I mean, warm bland? I mean, warm milk?”
“Careful, they might miss at you.”
“Die! Die in a fire! Live again and then die!”
“Did you guys just see that or has my brain fully melted?”
“Do you think you can do me the teensiest favor and just kill me now?”
“Feels like an NPR audio essay is about to break out.”
“Forgive me, Father. I killed like eight guys today.”
“Fuck you. Pay me."
“Having knowledge about things is not really my specialty.”
“He died as he lived: looking dumb as Hell.”
“He has all the fighting skills of a sock monkey."
“Hell is other people and stuff.”
“I’m condescending for no reason, got it?” 
“I've tried nothing—And it's not working!"
“I can’t answer your question because that would acknowledge you exist.”
“I can’t live with myself knowing there’s something out there I haven’t murdered.”
“I don’t want to oversell it, but it will fill you with sadness.” 
"I find words difficult because I can't punch them."
“I have a two part question. One, will I ever feel joy again? Two, what did I do to deserve this?”
“I hope you like really tough burnt meat and shitty scotch.”
"I love it when a plan sort of slowly congeals together."
“I thrive on your ignorance.” 
“I tripped and fell up five flights of stairs and landed here.”
“Is your torture basement even up to code?”
“It’s not what you said; it’s that you exist.”
“It irritates me too that I can defy logic, time, and physics."
"It is pleasant to be happy because it increases our amount of gladness."
“Let's carpe diem and mumble and mope like we've never mumbled and moped before!”
“Mind if I dial up the gay?”
"Never have I cared so little about so few for so long."
“Nothing calms a kid more than a poster of a deranged clown.”
“My philosophy is to see how many Pop-Tarts I can eat in two minutes.” 
“No, don’t, ____, please! Seriously! I will kill all your enemies! Please!”
"No good story ever starts with ‘so there I was, pouring gasoline all over the dead girl’s body.’”
"Oh good. Something else for the Gallery of Things That Should Not Be."
“Oh, thoughtless sociopath, you’re my best friend.”
“Okay, so I’ll take that ominous cryptic answer as a firm yes.”
“Our hero— again, fighting like a sociopathic four year-old.”
"Please don't ruin this moment by surviving!"
“Rush in blindly! A plan can only hinder us!"
"Screaming? Laughter? At this point, what's the difference?"
“So where do you think you’re gonna dump my body?” 
"So…You give up here often?" 
“Society as we know it would disintegrate if people knew the truth about whatnot.”
“Thank you, most boring sounding person in the world.”
“That’s a very friendly murder threat.”
“That sounded a lot more menacing and less gay in my head.” 
“This is my bullshit lecture!” 
“Wait a minute, I thought you said ‘pass the time,’ not ‘destroy all hope in the universe.’” 
"We are reconciled now through the cleansing power of violence."
“Well, that was neither fun nor interesting, but at least it gave us no new information.” 
“Well, time to pretend I know stuff.”
"Well, whoopty-shit."
"Welp... Forgone conclusion ain't gonna forgone conclude itself."
“Who can resist an asshole?”
“Women, right? Always like, ‘This seems fatally stupid!’ Blah, blah, blah.’”
“Yeah, I do feel my own mind drifting through thoughts of Socrates—in that I want to drink hemlock and die.”
"You're a lying liar who lies! You lie!"
“You're not allergic to severe acid burns, are you?”
“You taste like libertarianism and cigars.”
“Your evil is reassuring.” 
“Your violent, misogynistic criminal vibe lets me know I can trust you.” 
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kryptonexorcius · 6 months
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🌷 doing the @baeby-tc TC July stuff in December 'cause yes (now I have time to do everything I want)
1. describe your tc's physical appearance.
🪞: G's a kind of short man, maybe 160cm or 165cm, he's about my Height. I don't know how to explain his physical type, I think he has the typical "dad's body". His hair, omg his hair is perfect, it's short and Straight and has this color mix that reminds me of salt and pepper. Also, he has the most beautiful eyes in the world. They're green, in the sun they get a golden yellowish and in the dark they get a more greenish blue tone.
2. what was the first thing you've ever said to your tc?
🪞: I giggled 'cause the first thing he said to me was that I was such a quiet girl. The second thing was "I also like the Beatles" (he asked me if I liked them, actually I hate them)
3. is your to single or taken? or are you unsure? and are you single or taken?
🪞: G is taken (married) but I'm not sure if he's happy in this relationship at all... When I met him I was kind of dating a boy, but I ended our relationship 'cause I saw that I didn't truly like the boy and didn't want to hurt his feelings (now he's an asshole to me lol), so I'm actually single, UGHHH.
4. is your to more of the athletic type, the nerdy type or the artsy type?
🪞: At first I thought he was just a nerdy and artistic (musician type) man, but I saw him playing volleyball and I can tell y'all, the way he punched that fricking ball, I wish that shit was me
5. if you and your to were in high school together, do you think you'd be friends?
🪞: He was soooo extrovert and I'm pretty introvert, even if I like to talk A LOT with my friends and love company and everything about socialize, it's very hard for me 'cause of some of my life events so I think he would bully me (he actually told us the kind of guy he was when he was younger so I'm pretty sure he would be my bully).
6. name one song that reminds you of your tc and explain why that song reminds you of them.
Dois Rios - Skank (He told us to listen to this song to do a philosophy work and to chat about what that means in some kind of Socrates stuff)
You give love a bad name - Bon Jovi (idk, I just read a book about an age gap relationship and the guy was literally my TC and he enjoyed that song so, yeah)
There's a light that never goes out - The Smiths (He liked the smiths and he also likes that movie w the couple that are not a couple, I hate that movie)
Paparazzi - Lady Gaga (I REFUSE TO EXPLAIN)
7. is your to fashionable or are they more of the simple type? what is one outfit you'd love to see them wear?
🪞: HES SO MINIMALISTIC UGH I HATE THAT. EVERY TIME HES W SOME SOCCER TRAM SHIRT OR SOME SHIT LIKE IT. But I wish he wore these clothes everyday:
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8. would you be willing to become a teacher and teach your tc's subject if it meant you two could be together?
🪞: For sure! I mean, I have a lot of options to teach because he teaches me a lot of subjects but I would love to help him give a science politics class 🥹
9. does your to drink or smoke?
🪞: Neither
10. name one item that is always on your tc's desk.
🪞: His red pencil case and those fineliner bic pen
11. has your tc ever done anything that has either thrown you off, annoyed you, angered you or bothered you in any way? if so, what did they do?
🪞: Yes, everytime. When he ignores my opinions about some kind of project or when he was just so insensitive when I literally told him the most significant thing in my life and that made me cry a lot and I told him I never talked about it with anyone, even w my family and he just stood there like I was only talking bullshit but when one of my friends cried cause she lost a SOCCER GAME he fucking HUGGED HER 👹👹
12. does your to have any past jobs that you know of, before becoming a teacher?
🪞: He was a tour guide, a music journalist and did something like analyzing music shows.
13. does your tc have kids or siblings? if so, how many?
🪞: He has a son (he told everyone that it was an unwanted kid and he never wanted to be a dad but when his kid or his wife is near he acts like he's soooo proud, idk what to think about it) and he has an older brother.
14. are you taking your tc's class next year?
🪞: Yes, I have no option ahaha
15. has your tc ever met your parents? if you were there, what was the meeting like?
🪞: Yup, we have parents and teachers council. Also, my father was a teacher where I study and my TC was one of his friends, he actually liked to chat w my father a lot, maybe my own father was his father figure lol (even if my father is like, one year older than him). When he met my mother he came to tell me this like a dog when it sees their owner.
16. has your to ever given you detention? if so, what was it like?
🪞: Nope, thanks god
17. has your tc ever failed you? if so, how did you react? if not, how would you react?
🪞: I don't think so. But I would be so sad and mad at the same time. Silent treatment probably would be what I would do 'cause that's what hurts me, but I wouldn't talk w him, even if it was for school purposes.
18. what are your tc's hobbies/interests? are they similar to yours?
🪞: He enjoy to listen to music (don't play anything, but I do play piano, bass, guitar and I sing), he liked to read (me too ahaha), go out to bars (even if he don't drink, but he only that the ones that have shows)
19. have you ever spoken on the phone with your tc? what did you talk about?
🪞: I never made a call w him. We just text each other sometimes. The first time he texted me was to thank me for going to his class.
20. if you had your tc's class during quarantine, what were your zoom calls like? if not, have you spoken to your tc since quarantine?
🪞: I met him in 2021 🥹
21. if you had the chance to go anywhere in the world with your tc, where would you go? what would you do?
🪞: I would go to Germany, it's my dream since I was a little kid and we would visit every museum we could.
22. does your to have any nicknames for you?
🪞: I don't think so, he never called me anything
23. have you ever cried in front of your tc? why? how did they react?
🪞: Yes; personal problems, classmates problems; HE DID NOTHING BOTH TIMES
24. have you ever walked/drove to/from school with your tc?
🪞: Nope
25. do you know which teachers your tc is friends with at school? if so, do you like those teachers?
🪞: Yes, one of them I don't like and the others I really do like
26. why does your tc's voice sound like?
🪞: It's nothing like a mature man, more like a mature teenager who had a lot of problems to deal in his life.
27. do you like your tc as a teacher? are they a good teacher?
🪞: Yesss, a lot. He's so smart and his classes are very good
28. does your tc prefer books, shows or movies?
🪞: Hard to tell, but I think movies
29. is your tc stern or easy going, in class?
🪞: pretty easy going w who make some effort to make the work he gives good, very strict if they are students who don't want to do anything
30. how would you describe you and your tc's relationship?
🪞: confusing, very confusing. Sometimes he acts like he does care about me but sometimes he just ignores me and I feel like a trash lol
31. do you address your tc by their first or last name?
🪞: by his first name. Where I live it's kind of weird to call them by their last name, it's something very particular. But when I talk to him I call him only teacher and mister, I feel it's too intimate to call him by his name ahaha, he never gave me that freedom.
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airlock · 3 months
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the hour is nigh for some self-reflection mixed in with just whipping myself unfairly, woohoo
sometimes, these days, I feel like a gadfly with a broken stinger.
like, there's that thing Socrates said once; I'm not going to fuss with getting the exact quote out, but it's something like, Athens is a lame horse and I'm the gadfly that stings it so it'll keep moving. that's the sort of person I used to fancy myself as. someone who breaks ruts, who sees past groupthink and snaps people out of it. someone original, marching to the beat of her own drum no matter what anyone says.
in some ways I've changed, and in some ways I've gotten more in touch with the kind of person I actually am. I don't like hurting my peers; there's a difference between that, and snipping at people who think they can lord over me. I never loved debate and heated discussion much; I care a lot about talking about subjects that are unpleasant and difficult, but although persuasive rhetoric is a fundamental part of that sort of thing, it's also something that's very often used against me and against which I can scarcely fight back properly, so it's become a spectre around which I can never feel safe. and I do care what other people think of me, more than I'd love to; even if that doesn't really compel me to make more compromises, instead of just hurting about it.
I haven't really swung all up the other way either. I don't love harmony; I worry about echo chambers; I'd much rather work on understanding, than just take someone else's word for things.
it feels like I've just driven myself to the most stifling middle. like I'm just running out of ways to put myself out there that would be worthwhile at all.
it's almost like I peaked when I was willing to be even more of an insufferable asshole -- but that's crediting the thought that it was really any better to be the way I used to, just because I'm still not happy being the way I am now. after all, one other thing that's changed since the years past is that it's never been easier to be a fucking edgelord, and that further peels away the illusion that that was ever a thing worthwhile to be.
I've just probably never made anything that's worth looking at, or said anything that's worth listening to, ever.
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ghelgheli · 9 months
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for a time I'd make a point of telling my students that socrates-via-plato ought not be a subject of emulation for them in their discussions because socrates is kind of an asshole of an interlocutor. i stopped after a student became irate and combative, having modelled his intellectual identity on the socratic form and taken this as a personal attack.
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Because of my feral hyperfixation on Bruce Campbell (that apparently has been mounting slowly since childhood), my sister and I often discuss his many characters. Because Bruce is such a charismatic and varied actor, we love discussing the flare he gives to those characters.
More specifically, the sexual and/or gender identities of those characters based on how Bruce plays them. In this post I primarily want to talk about Brisco but I feel like I have to talk about a few others first. Just a couple because my sister and I constantly talk about these characters’ identities.
First up is the lovely Charles Travis (From Congo 1995, for those that don’t know). My personal obsession since childhood, god I want to kiss him. *cough* ignore that...
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In the unfortunately, very short time we have with Charlie, he definitely gives off straight vibes. But these are non-toxic straight vibes. Despite being exhausted and stranded in the middle of the Congo, he’s got a bright, friendly disposition and you can hear his chemistry with Karen in the short conversation they have. Honestly, we needed more of him but this post isn’t about that... anyway, Charles is a sweet straight/cis man who may or may not have daddy issues because he let his asshole father send him to the Congo for no good fucking reason!
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Up next is an easy and familiar choice: Ash Williams, the man who got bitchslapped by destiny and has three kids. 
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There’s a lot of content with Ash. You really get to see his chemistry with other characters. I won’t get super deep into it because so many other Tumblr authors
have described it in far more detail but Ash gives off the opposite of straight vibes. The man is definitely giving off bisexual vibes. Ash loved all his girlfriends very much and had excellent chemistry with them. But Ash also has a soft, overly friendly vibe with other guys such as Scotty and Chet. The particular touchy-feely, constantly stealing long glances at each other vibes that Ash shares with Chet is what I’ve talking about. Also, there’s the obvious headcanon that Ash is trans, which I love. The entire series is full of evidence of Ash being trans but I also like to look to the second season of AvED for evidence. The dialog in that season, especially when talking with Brock and Cheryl, is incredibly trans-coded. Go check it out, it’s a great show.
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Also, honorable mention before I get to Brisco: Autolycus
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I haven’t gotten to the part of Xena with him yet but already I can tell you that this man is decidedly not straight. Like literally every other character in this show, this man is some intense flavor of queer.
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Alrighty, enough of that.
On to Brisco!
Brisco County Jr, the sweetheart cowboy who always looks towards the future.
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The past several days I’ve been thinking a lot about Brisco. Why? Because I fell head-over-heels for his disheveled ass, shut up! Now, I would like to say that at the point of writing this, I have only seen the first few episodes but there’s been enough context there for me to really think about this. I know that Brisco gets a girlfriend later in the series/season (he’s a male 90′s MC, it was mandatory he gets one). That being said, I see Brisco as being Gay/Ace with intense top energy (his constant confidence and self-assured aura). 
In like the three episodes I have seen of Brisco, this man has zero (0) romantic vibes with any of the women. His flirting, what little there is of it, is very mild and performative. Most of his relationships with women have a deep platonic vibe to them. Unlike Brisco’s energy with both Lord Bowler and Socrates. When he talks with them, it’s quite flirty and upbeat, playful. He teases them gently and is quite open with speaking to them. Despite him and Lord Bowler being rivals upon meeting, they already friendly protective of each other by the second episode.
The friendship that Brisco has cultivated with Lord Bowler by that point is very soft and affectionate. There’s a deep tenderness that transcends friendship. Lord Bowler drops his rough exterior around Brisco in ways that is not normally done.
People, you do not sing to your rival to comfort them while they’re in pain and dying unless there is something deeper going on with your relationship!
Also, in the episode where he goes to the town full of nothing but women, he doesn’t flirt with a single one. The professor keeps making insinuations about how great their situation is and Brisco’s just like “meh” about the whole thing. In that episode, during the trap set up in the bathhouse, Brisco never even casts an interested look at the naked woman in the bath. He simply thanks her for her help and leaves. Brisco also has decidedly platonic, almost sibling-like chemistry with the town’s sheriff. When he leaves town, there’s only a goodbye. No sidelong glances or shoehorned kiss. Nothing. They’re both the two least horny people in existence.
Speaking of Brisco not being horny, we not come to the part where I see him as being asexual. Though, he is not sex-repulsed. He will have sex if his partner wishes to. He’s not enthused or enticed by sex. Sexual intercourse is not a driving factor in his life. He would much rather be out discovering things or talking to his horse. 
I have a few examples of Brisco in situations where in any other show, the male lead would be overly enthusiastically engaged in the situation:
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This is the body language of a man who is viscerally uncomfortable. You can tell by the crease in his cheek where her hand touches that he is actively recoiling from her in-coming kiss.
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For this gif, normally in this situation the male lead would be doing one of several things: leaning into the touch, eyes drift down to watch where she is enticingly touching, returning the soft touch, or leaning his head in to continue the conversation. But Brisco does none of these things. He completely ignores what her hand is doing. His eyes stay on her face at all times. He isn’t checking out her very obvious tits. and he is once against actively leaning his head back as he speaks. He doesn’t so much as twitch at her touch. Brisco is completely unphased and uninterested in the sexual implications of their intimate positioning.
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This is the least sexiest version of the “omg, I accidentally fell on you in a scandalous way” position I have ever seen in my life. Brisco’s mind is entirely on the situation outside of his intimate positioning. His mind is no way engaged in the fact that he is basically straddling a beautiful woman, he is too busy calculating the amount of danger he’s in. Something that most male leads do not immediately focus on when in such a position.
In conclusion, I’m just here to say that Brisco is an example of performative heteronormativity. He is playing “his part” in normal society but is not enthused by it. He knows how he's expected to act and does so when the time calls for it but does seek out opportunities to act in a hetero or allosexual manner. He would much rather either be on his own and daydream or converse with male friends/acquaintances all while having a deep feminist respect for women and their rights to safety and happiness. 
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fruityyamenrunner · 9 months
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the change in mores regarding sex with children over the past forty years makes me think something about ancient Athens
there's a tendency some more fan-minded classicists have of talking about Athens as being a sort of eternal marble columned place you can go to through the magic door of books, where it's always sunny and everyone is eternally manifesting Daily Life in Athens
one of the contested things about this fantasy is how much the boys are getting raped -- you have people who say "yeah it's basically a universal thing for a boy to get groomed by an older man and fucked", with variations where it's "just intercrural", or it's all just an act, or there's some kind of creepy "no-contact" thing where aristocrat boast about their love for a boy but nothing happens, and so on
I think this fanfic mindset is covering the possibility that perhaps all of these were true at one point, perhaps changing wildly over the course of the fifth century. slave boys getting raped are also often missed out -- there was a lot of abuse happening within homes, evidently, as in any society -- but perhaps an aristocratic clique, corrupted by this habit, tried to see how far they could propagate their perversions in public, and got pushed back against, in a manner not dissimilar to the cliques in the 20th century anglosphere.
Imagine a 34th century Javan scholar trying to untangle the attitudes of our era with regards to pederasty, and how hard a job they would have if their sources were as scanty as ours are for golden age Athens, and our present golden age as mythicised
i don't make any claims to be a classicist, but from the scraps of classical learning i have, one piece of evidence immediately comes to mind - the dialogue that Socrates sets up between the Better Argument and the Worse in Clouds to prove the Worse Argument The Better: the Better Argument, who is a sort of parody of old men, or prudes, or conservatives, talks about how schoolboys hid their buttocks and genitals from trainers, had fuzzy pubes bc they didn't rub with oil, didn't talk in kawaii voices etc. (it is a very strange dialogue, and Better Argument's is very perverted). Worse Argument preaches a sort of wanton sexual liberation, where promiscuity with women, men and boys is divine, about taking pride in your gaping anus (i am not making this up -- the dialogue ends with Worse Argument says "why, everyone is a huge asshole" and convinces Better Argument that lawyers are huge assholes, poets are huge assholes, as are politicians and, indeed, so is "almost everyone" in the audience "men who spread their cheeks", therefore proving the Worse Argument to be the Better etc.
The meaning of this satire is obscure, but it surely tells of an ambiguity towards pederasty in theory and practice.
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stephenjaymorrisblog · 7 months
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When I Was Your Age
Stephen Jay Morris
10/31/23
©Scientific Morality
I don’t mean to be sesquipedalian. However, I do relish the use of vulgar, four-letter words. That's my writing style. Don’t like it? Go somewhere else. Don’t let me waste your time. Okay? No! I aint no keyboard warrior, I am a pen and paper iconoclast. Okay? Okay! Now let’s go to the subject at hand.
We have tepid biases, then we have severe biases. Both are an anathema to the traditional liberals, or so-called “Woke.” You know? Racism, sexism, ablism, agism and many others. Then you have acceptable biases like “Generation gap.” Also, there are geographical biases, astrological biases, and other silly ones, like music criticism, sports bias, etc. Does this sound familiar: “People born under the sign of Pisces are assholes! Most of them live in Florida! What a shitty state that is! Not only do they have criminals, but they have lousy sports teams!” It all sounds hateful and hypercritical, but it is acceptable in society. Just like political bias: “It’s alright to call someone a communist, but you can’t call them a nigger!”
The paleo-conservatives are much too cowardly to use racial epithets, so they use innocuous, acceptable biases like “geographical bias” to cover up their racial hatred and disdain for their political adversaries. Instead of saying, “A city full of niggers that is run by a Democratic city council,” they say, “Chicago.”  Now that the conservative movement is being taken over by the White Nationalist movement, they’re even more at ease using racist terminology.
Today, I want to tackle the subject of the Generation Gap. Every race, creed, or color has had this problem. It is an innocuous bias that has been around since 399 B.C., the days of the ancient Greek philosophers. Quote: “The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers.”― Socrates 399 B.C. End Quote. This didn’t just start with the Baby Boomers and their parents in the 60’s.
Every generation has its critics. Why do older people do this? Before I answer that question, let me point out that every individual has their own unique personality. Talking about generational issues, you tend to generalize. People who generalize are too stupid and indolent to elaborate. That is why most racists are stupid. So, why do most older people look down on the younger generation? Because they wish they were young enough to repair their misspent youth. Plus, they resent the better life their children have. Tag it “jealousy!”
Now, what I just said is a gross generalization. That may be true for some, but not all. There are parents who love their children, and those children reciprocate that love.  So, who is “anti-youth?” Mostly, this sentiment comes from the political Right in America! They want all males to be masculine warriors who will protect the ruling class, and all women to be birthing wives to increase the White population. Don’t believe me? Tough shit! Just read the history of any Fascist nation; it’s all the same.
The U.S. political Right wants every male in this country to be a self-reliant, rugged individual. Conservative news website and media company, “The Daily Wire,” makes lots of money from attacking the so-called Left. One of its commentators, Matt Walsh, wears a Fidel Castro beard and is a Millennial who attacks Generation Z. He cited a psychological study that found Gen Z-ers are suffering from anxiety and panic attacks. Matt, being the dumbass he is, did not sympathize with them, stating “they are just spoiled kids.” I get the feeling he never reads any pamphlets published by the Roman Catholic Church. He also stated that he has never experienced a panic attack, so therefore, there is no such thing. Any individual who has this mind set might suffer from psychopathological Narcissism. He has no ability to empathize. I pity his children and his wife.
I am a 69 year-old, Jewish male. Beginning at 11, I grew up having panic attacks. It was embarrassing and frequently occurred in public. These attacks came out of nowhere, not unlike an Epileptic seizure. I got them not because I had Liberal, hippie parents who were lenient with me; As I learned through psychotherapy many years later, it was because my neurons weren’t firing correctly and I had a bio-chemical imbalance in my brain. Matt Walsh thinks with his balls, not his brain.
A major upshot of this modern world is that religion is dying, and science is advancing. So, we must endure schmucks like Walsh until natural causes take hold.
Just remember, the world is getting better and better!
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