Doralice

Din: No you don’t understand. I never set out to be Mand’alor. I only wanted to save my child from Moff Gideon.

Mandalorians: He took on one of most dangerous Imperials in single combat to protect his family! Praise the Mand’alor!

Din: Wait, let me explain. The child was a foundling under my care...

Mandalorians: He treats the foundling as his own flesh and blood! All praise!

Din: No! listen! He was threatening my Child with the darksaber, so I took out my pure beskar spear...

ironically its in a book about female sex anatomy that ive come across it (Vagina Obscura by Rachel E. Gross). everyone only wants to focus on the secondary sex characteristics and not the bazillion other functions of estrogen, testosterone, and co.

uses both of them!! for a

million reasons!!!!! aaaaaa!!!!!!!

Truncated text of tweet from MrPitBull, Mar 11, 2026:

She kept finding women in laboratory photographs from the 1800s. Then she read the published papers—and every single woman had vanished. Someone had erased them from history.

Yale University, 1969.

Margaret Rossiter was a graduate student studying the history of science. She was one of very few women in her program.

Every Friday afternoon, students and faculty gathered for beers and informal conversation. One week, Margaret asked a simple question: "Were there ever any women scientists?"

The faculty answered firmly: No.

Someone mentioned Marie Curie. The group dismissed it—her husband Pierre really deserved the credit.

Margaret didn't argue. But she also didn't believe them.

So she started looking.

She found a reference book called "American Men of Science"—essentially a Who's Who of scientific achievement. Despite the title, she was shocked to discover it contained entries about women. Botanists trained at Wellesley. Geologists from Vermont.

There were names. There were credentials. There were careers.

The professors had been wrong.

But Margaret's discovery was just the beginning. Because as she dug deeper into archives across the country, she found something far more disturbing.

Photograph after photograph showed women standing at laboratory benches, working with equipment, listed on research teams.

But when she read the published papers, the award citations, the official histories—those same women had disappeared. Their names were missing. Their contributions erased.

It wasn't random. It was systematic.

Women who designed experiments watched male colleagues publish results without giving them credit. Women whose discoveries were assigned to supervisors. Women listed in acknowledgments instead of as authors. Women passed over for awards that went to male collaborators who contributed far less.

Margaret realized she was witnessing a pattern that stretched across centuries.

Women had always been present in science. The record had simply pushed them aside.

She needed a name for what she was documenting.

In the early 1990s, she found it in the work of Matilda Joslyn Gage—a 19th-century suffragist who had written about this exact phenomenon in 1870.

In 1993, Margaret published a paper formally naming it: The Matilda Effect.

The term captured something that had been hidden in plain sight for generations. Once you knew the term, you saw it everywhere.

Her dissertation became a lifelong mission.

For more than 30 years, Margaret researched and wrote her landmark three-volume series: Women Scientists in America. She examined letters, institutional policies, individual careers. She gathered undeniable evidence that women in science had been consistently under-credited and structurally excluded.

Her work faced resistance. Many dismissed women's history as political rather than academic. Others insisted she was exaggerating.

Margaret didn't argue emotionally. She presented data. Documented cases. Patterns repeated across decades and institutions.

Eventually, the evidence became undeniable.

Her research helped restore recognition to scientists who had been erased:

Rosalind Franklin, whose X-ray work revealed DNA's structure—credit went to Watson and Crick.

Lise Meitner, who explained nuclear fission—omitted from the Nobel Prize.

Nettie Stevens, who discovered sex chromosomes—received little credit.

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, who discovered stars are made of hydrogen—initially dismissed.

And countless others whose names had nearly vanished.

Margaret changed the narrative. Science was no longer just the story of solitary male geniuses. It became a story of collaboration that included women who had been written out.

This was something his mother taught him to take advantage of and use whenever he had to, whether it was because Daniel and David got into a fight over a girl they both liked, or his oldest brother Dominic and their father going at because of their different ideas on how to run the farm. "Stay quiet and keep your wits about you.", "Wait until they finished tearin' into each other 'fore you rip'em a new one."

Essentially it was to say that his mother was a very respected person in their household and trained him up to be the only other person who could tear into his brothers and father with the same sternness ands frigidness of a southern woman keeping her composure.

Which is how Dennis ended up here, in their living room, watching the Jack and Robby snark at one another after Jack got home with an injured shoulder after a bullet grazed him.

"You have a death wish!" Michael snarls as he tries to reach over and look over Jack's wound while said man backs away. "It's fuckin' fine." Jack slaps Robby's hands away while pulling the sleeves of his shirt and hisses when the sweat and blood soaked shirt sticks to the wound and pulls.

Michael scoffs, spinning around and going to the bathroom where the first aid kit is put away. "Yeah, because the sound you made was so reassuring." Jack shot him a dirty look before rounding on Dennis and giving him a slightly guilty and playful look when he saw Dennis standing on the other side of the couch, lips pressed thinly.

"I said I'm fine." Jack waves off Robby's second attempt at grabbing him to check him over before the annoyance spready across Jack's face again. "And I don't want to hear anything about death wishes considering your mid-life crisis is currently sitting in the garage, no fucking helmet in sight."

"And there it is." Dennis rolled his eyes subtly as Robby reared back and immediate frustration crossed his face and he started arguing back. "Let them fight it out." He watched as their argument escalated and they started calling each other selfish and suicidal for indulging in their interests. "What about Dennis, huh? How do you think he'd feel if you splattered yourself on the highway all because you didn't wanna wear a fucking helmet." This time it was Jack who threw his name out first and effectively brought him into the conversation, both their gazes snapping to him.

He had held back since the start of their relationship out of fear of overstepping because it was all so new and he worried he would be thrown out of the years long partnership the other two had developed. Now though, after they've continuously brought him into the argument and used the other persons love and affection for him as a dangling carrot and their constant reassurances that Dennis mattered in the relationship and that he was equally as valued, Dennis was done holding it in.

Dennis sighed, the other two had turned back to each other and it was clear that Robby was probably going to throw Dennis' reaction towards something to Jack because of his SWAT activities, but before he could even say a single word the calm and false sweet voice of their boy cut in.

"Jack?" The man in question turned to Dennis his mouth open to accept whatever agreement their boy was no doubt going to say to help him in his crusade against Robby's death machine. Only to freeze when he saw a completely false and tight smile was spread across Dennis' face. "Yeah, Angel?"

"Sit your ass down." Jack gulped as he tracked Dennis' quiet and measured steps towards he and Robby, and he dropped to the coach when Dennis reached them and snatched the first aid box out of Robby's hands. "Good boy. Michael?"

Robby jumped his eyes wide and cautious as he took in this complete shift in dynamic, usually he and Jack were in control with Dennis being a very willing submissive force in the room, now he couldn't help but shake a bit when he watched this new side of pretty boy. "Yeah, baby?"

Dennis slipped on some of the gloves, latex snapping loudly in the quiet room. "Sit down next to Jack an' keep yur mouth shut." The slightest slip of Dennis' accent was both the hottest thing Robby has ever heard and the most terrifying which made it very easy to comply as he threw himself beside Jack and watch Dennis take out the supplies he would need for disinfecting and stitching up the wound on Jack's shoulder.

Dennis was quiet for a moment as he unpackaged the tools he was going to use before cleaning the wound do he could examine it better, turning Jack to face Robby so that he had full visualization of said wound. "Y'all are both suicidal idiots." He disinfected the wound and surrounding area non-to-gently which earned him a hiss of pain from Jack and a wince of sympathy from Robby. And he shot both men a stern and cold glare when they opened their mouths to argue. "It's not a question. The two of you snap and snark at each other as if either one of you has the upper hand, which you don't because you're both doin' dumbass things tryn' to get killed."

His movements were precise and quick as he started suturing the skin together and he kept his gaze steadily on the wound he was patching up. "And while I can say that it kills me everytime you," his gaze flickers to Robby, "get on your damned bike with no helmet on. Or when you," he gaze snaps to Jacks face, "shoot up and start getting dressed the moment you hear your phone ring and hope it's SWAT. I won't, even if it does, because if it hasn't been enough to change your mind when you point this out to each other then I doubt me mentioning it will change that fact. Instead I will just say.."

The snapping of a glove makes both men jump as Dennis pulls them off and throws them aside. "Leave me out of your fuckin' argument 'cause it's clear that I don't matter enough to either of you to wanna stick around and live out the rest of your natural lives with me.' His voice goes quiet as he packs up the supplies and avoids their eyes. "I love you both but I fuckin refuse to be used in the argument against each other like a constellation prize if you stop doing dumb shit. Y'all wanna die or do you actually love me enough to wanna live and stay with me?" Dennis moves to the bathroom and put the medical supplies away before heading to his own room without a single glance back at a still frozen Jack and Robby. "Figure your shit out or don't fuckin talk to me again." The door slamming shocked both men out of their stupor.

"Are you hard as fuck right now too?" Robby asks with wide eyes and a gapping mouth, which makes Jack swat him on the back of the head. "Obviously. Not the point though. Pretty boy has a point, we've been doing this shit to each other longer than he's been alive and look at what that turned us into. We can't do that to him."

Robby nods, chastised and resolute. "We have to make it up to him." They nod in agreement. Jack's lips twitch and his expression turns a little dirty. "We're gonna get him mad with less dumb shit and then we're gonna fuck rough and dirty." Robby snorts and rolls his eyes. "Obviously.