#but i would also like to be ABLE to dress professionally and respectably when necessary

[bogkeep]

mannnnnn now that i've actually started medical transition it seems that i will, hopefully, someday, get through to the other side of the limbo tunnel and can hopefully explore more permanent masculine attire. which is as exciting as it is daunting. like, i'm under no illusions that there's a tangible cutoff point where i will Suddenly be out of the limbo state (though top surgery will certainly help if i can get it), and there's no one thing holding me back from exploring this space *now*, but it's. Difficult ,

the List of challenges i must navigate:

- men's fashion is on a surface level very sad and boring and i crave whimsy :( i know knowledge and experience will help but it's like playing on hard mode compared to being a Weird Girl (tm). i am currently gnc against my will and i desire to be gnc Intentionally and on my own terms

- hashtag short king problems. masculine attire was never made with me in mind. almost every time i observe an aspirational example of Men's Fashion it's on a tall lanky guy and that will never be me and that's okay but throw me a bone pleas

- the Autism Sensibilities. collars too close to the neck depletes me of HP. wearing accessories for too long depletes me of mana. if a button up is made of a slightly too stiff material it will give me rashes. i cannot wear binders because i value my ability to breathe comfortably. i can only do so many layers at once before i hit a game over screen. i MUST be comforble

- the restrictions of my circumstances, such as the safety rules of the watchmaker workshop or the mercy of scandinavian weather gods

i'm sure i will figure things out with time. i'm going to need patience. i'm probably going to have to learn how to tailor trousers. i will need to Observe how others dress. but it's so much!! ahh!!!!

[botnasty]

The Missing Link

Pornstar!Bucky Barnes X Director!Reader

Words: 2.2k words

Warnings: Smut (Duh), lill past trauma, but sweet ass bucky.

Note: I am getting rid of some of my draft and this was part of it.

Main Masterlist

“Where is she? She was the one who begged to do a shoot with him!” It was almost chaos in the house you rented. Everyone was ready for today; the cameras were set up, Bucky Barnes, aka The White Wolf as the porn industry calls him, was in the back getting ready with his fluffer. Everything was set and ready, except for his co-star. She was the one who approached you in the first place, Bucky’s manager, to do this shoot with him. She had begged you for months to be able to do a video with him, and the moment it was supposed to happen, she disappeared.

“Did you contact her manager?” asked one of the cameramen. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “Of course I did, John. What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? He says he can’t contact her either. She is completely AWOL.” Your hands were almost shaking. You couldn’t just ask everyone who came; unfortunately, they weren’t needed... And Bucky, you made him come out here on his day off. You couldn’t just tell him it was all for nothing.

“Think, think.” You said to yourself as you kept on pacing in the white hallway that led to the bedroom where the shooting was supposed to happen – hopefully. What did your own manager do when you were a pornstar? You sighed and leaned against the wall. He would have done nothing, since he was a sack of shit who literally stole money from you, which was the reason you left being a porn star to become a manager yourself.

Years ago, being a pornstar was some of the worst times of your life. The lack of respect and regulation in the industry made it hard for anyone to truly enjoy what they did. It was a world where exploitation lurked behind the glamor, where your worth was often measured by your ability to perform on camera rather than your humanity. 

But now, times have changed. The industry has evolved, becoming more professional and respectful of its performers. Your own experiences in the past have shaped the way you approach your current role as a manager. You left behind the world of adult entertainment, partly because of the exploitation you faced, but also because of a manager who took advantage of you, stealing money and betraying your trust.

Despite the challenges you faced, you've found a way to navigate the industry with integrity. Your decision to step back into a role you thought you had left behind speaks to your dedication to ensuring the success of this shoot. You're willing to do what it takes to make sure everything goes smoothly, even if it means revisiting a past you'd rather forget.

“Boss, you okay?” You jumped back to see Bucky out of the room that was assigned to his dressing room. He had no shirt on, only a pair of jeans, which was how he was supposed to be in the scene. “Yeah, all is good, but I think you heard about the problem.”

“She still hasn’t shown up?” He tossed his hair back with his hand. “Well, this complicates things… Maybe I could do a solo shoot? It could be a solution,” he grinned, "because I do not think any random co-star will pop out of nowhere.”

You walked closer to him and looked up into his eyes. “You could, but there is also another solution, only if you are comfortable with it…”

It’s like he knew exactly what you were talking about because his eyes widened. “You would do that? But wasn’t your experience in the past something you told me you never would’ve wanted to do again?”

You looked at the time on your phone. “I know, but it would be necessary. We are on contract, and the agency wants a full video, not just a solo one.” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. You trusted Bucky; you knew him ever since he was an amateur in the porn industry, and you knew how he was with all his co-stars. He always tried to make them comfortable, get to know them a little so that when the camera rolled, everything went smoothly.

“You would trust me with that?” He scratched his pec and leaned closer to you as you nodded. “Okay, and I am comfortable doing that with you too, but if at any time, it gets too much, we stop, and I do not care what the agency says. It’s not our fault she didn’t show up.” His eyes went back and forth between yours. “Are we clear?” You wanted to laugh. You were the manager here; you were supposed to be the one comforting and all that, but here he was doing that to you.

“Yeah, big guy, I guess it’s time for me to go get ready. I'll tell everyone it’s almost ‘go’ time. And you,” you pointed at him, “Go back to your fluffer and get ready.” You said with a smile.

He smiled back. “Oh, I do not think I’ll need one for this shoot.”

After the decision is made for you to step in as Bucky's co-star, the atmosphere on set shifts. The initial tension and uncertainty give way to a focused determination to make the best of the situation. As you both prepare for the scene, there's a sense of mutual respect and understanding between you and Bucky, forged through years of working in the industry.

As the cameras start rolling, the room falls into a hushed anticipation, a quiet reverence for the performance about to unfold. You and Bucky stand facing each other, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. The set fades away, and it's just the two of you, locked in a moment that feels both intimate and exhilarating.

Bucky's touch is like fire against your skin, igniting a passion that burns brightly between you. His eyes are intense, filled with a hunger that mirrors your own. Your head is all over the place as to what is about to unfold. You can feel the heat of his body radiating against yours, heightening every sensation, every touch.

"You ready?" Bucky's voice is a low growl, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His fingers start stroking the skin on your arms.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "More than ready."

He grins, “Well then, let’s start this.” He grabbed your head in his big hands and kissed you on the lips. Never in your life would you have ever thought of being on the receiving end of Bucky Barnes. You had always guiltily imagined it: being his co-star. Your arm traveled around his neck as your other hand explored his tone body. He was so firm at all the right places. You wanted to smirk when you heard him growl as you reached lower and lower.

Suddenly, before you could even reach his bulge, he let go of you. “Get on your knees, baby. Come on.” He let you slide down on your knee as he held to your hair. “Get in out for me.”

“I happily will.” You couldn’t help but say. You licked your lips when you saw a glimpse of the head poking out from the top of his boxer. He was so big, you were already salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth. 

As you pulled down the boxers, his dick springs out, the tip so red it looked uncomfortable. You placed your hands on his thighs and let a drool of spit land on the tip. It’s so thick you couldn’t help but think. You wrapped your hand around the base and you heard his breath hitch. You looked up at him and saw his eyes were dark with desire. “Fuck my face, big guy.” Was the last thing you said before he took your head in his hands and pushed his dick deep inside your mouth, almost choking you. He must have realized his mistake because he asked you: “If it’s too much, tap my thigh twice.” You never did. 

His dick was so heavy in your mouth, so hot. You had never liked sucking your co-star’s dick before, but his dick was now part of the exception. Hesitantly, he let out a low groan, shutting his eyes tightly as he gripped onto your hair even more tightly. His free hand went instinctively towards his chest- covering his heart that was now racing wildly.”Fucking hell, baby. You have such a wet mouth. It feels so good.”

His head fell back slightly, letting out a shaky exhale." Jesus fucking Christ." He muttered, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. A small smile appeared on his lips though as he opened them again.”Squeeze my balls, baby. Grab them in your hands.” As you did a loud groan left his mouth and he suddenly pulled out.

“I was about to cum, baby. Oh, fuck.” You smirked.

“Oh really? And here I thought the big bad wolf had more in him.” You taunted him. You saw a big smirk appear on his face. “Oh, you asked for it baby.” He grabbed you suddenly, a little gasp leaving your mouth, and threw you on the bed.

“Touch yourself. I want to see what you do when you think of my dick every night.” Slowly you brought your hands to your tits, your fingers twisting your nipples as you looked straight in his eyes. You saw him swallowed thickly, still staring at you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, it’s like he was simply watching  you – taking in every detail of your appearance, committing it to memory.

With one last pinch you brought your hand to your clit, never in your life had you been this wet in a shoot. Always, before, the guy needed to use lube with you, but this time, you could feel some wetness dripping down your thighs and also down your ass. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt pleasure at all.

He got on top of you, hid dick in his hand. "I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby.” He said loud enough for the camera to pick it up, but in your ears he whispered: “You okay?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You smile, a mix of gratitude and admiration in your gaze. "I'm perfect. You're amazing."

He pecked your lips. “I’m gonna put it in…” He slapped his dick twice against your clip, making you jolt with a moan. The tip of his dick gently breached your opening and already you felt full. He was so big. You placed a hand on his lower back and bit on his neck as he went deeper. “OH, fuck. So fucking tight.”

Your hands grabbed whatever you could have he trusted deep inside of you. The wet sound of sex vibrating in the air, as he kept going. He growled. “I fucking love your pussy.” He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer as he went on his knees. “How come you hid this from me, huh?” You could feel all the ridges of his dick, how veiny it was and the tip always brushing your sweet spot inside in this position. 

You grabbed one of his hands and tried to bring it to your clit. “Please, please, please.” Once he understood, he started rubbing your clit with his thumb as he forced his dic depper in you. Everything was too much.

You let out a moan and tossed your head back, your legs were shaking all over the place. “I can feel you tightening, baby. Are you gonna cum like a good slut on my dick? You are, aren't you.” You tried to nod, but to no avail. Your body was just completely shaking, before you let out a loud moan and you felt your pussy tighten around him. Somehow this was enough to make Bucky Barnes, the man you knew could last for hours, to cum in you. He groaned and moaned as he kept on doing little thrust in you, making all of his cum pooling inside of you just as he fell down on you. Both sweaty bodies against each other and heavy breath mingling.

The room seems to pulse with a shared energy, a connection between you and Bucky that transcends the physical. When the director finally calls "cut," there's a moment of stillness, as if everyone is caught in the spell you've woven.

"You were incredible," Bucky says, his voice filled with genuine admiration and he kissed your cheek. "I couldn't have asked for a better co-star. Maybe we should do this again sometime"

You smile, feeling a sense of pride wash over you, a sense of reborn. "You weren't so bad yourself.”

Thank you so much for reading! PLease do not hesitate to let me know what y'all think:)

[wonder-doughnut]

I'm never shutting up about how attractive Wonder-Red is, so I decided to explain other things I love about Red that aren't about his appearance so it doesn't look like I'm just thirsting over him and kissing my hand and pretending it's him like some lonely teenager, or snuggling my pillow and talking to it like it's him like some weird otaku. All of which I definitely don't do yes I do.

He's thoughtful and considerate, often caring about the well being of others, even after they've caused trouble or threatened him (see: the scene in Neo Mu where Red makes sure Blue is physically unharmed before scolding him for running off alone. Also, the scene where he asks Pink if she's okay before finding out that she was just losing her mind over how hot Vorkken is. Most importantly, his dedication to rescuing Vorkken to the point he has the team literally shrink in size and enter Vorkken's body. Not to mention Immorta offered to enter Vorkken as well, but Red encouraged her to stay back and not worry about it because she had been through enough hardship already).

He's patient (consider: how he waited without complaint while White blathered on, and when Black wouldn't look-up from his video games during their respective introductions, despite how pressed for time they are and how often he pushes for good time management).

He blushes really hard.

He is a family man that cares a lot about children and their emotional health to the point he dedicates his life to helping children discover their strength.

Also, he respects children as people (consider: his speech to Commander Nelson about what Red thought was Luka's passion for fighting the GEATHJERK, and how he felt that despite Luka's age, he deserved to fight alongside the Wonderful-Ones).

He's a bit nerdy.

His voice is soft and sweet, but also can be very stern and strong when necessary.

He's very inquisitive and loves to learn (see: the scene where he legitimately wanted to know what happened "that faithful day" in Vorkken's story. As well as inquiring about Rhulloian when the team encountered Vorkken's writing on the wall in Kowrule. Also, when he demanded to see the book Vorkken was reading when they met. Also, just in general, the way he seems to know so much, either about his teammates or matters regarding the CENTINELS and the war. He also questioned Professor Shirogane about why he was on the shuttle in Strato Port).

He is incredibly humble and doesn't seem able recognize just how capable he is, nor does he ever brag (consider: He only told Green and Blue about his amazing entrance exam scores because Green coaxed it out of him. He didn't tell Blue about his own struggles with loss after Blue shared his, it would have invalidated Blue's emotions and been rude. He didn't want to be the leader, and only became the leader because Commander Nelson told him to, but Red actively never saw himself above anyone else in the team and treated them all as equals).

He's very silly and doesn't seem to realize it (His excessive, sentai-esque body movements. His weird ideas that somehow work, like tickling a robot or flying a glider through space).

His stoicism.

The way he experienced so much trauma and struggled with it enough in his childhood that he dedicated his career to helping children so they don't struggle as much as he did.

The way he dresses in his civilian form. He looks so professional.

His seriousness.

He's so prim and proper, and well-put-together.

[emphasisonthehomo]

📓

You know how I said I didn't think there was anything to a death industry au? I've been thinking about it a lot, and there is something there. Most of this has been in my drafts for a couple days, while I think thinky thoughts on it. Just gotta take it out of the admin side, to make it more generally interesting tbh. Because what I do is actually pretty boring unless you've got strong administrative opinions.

~

Danny as a licensed embalmer/mortician/whatever (idk how it works in Hawai’i or Jersey) that works at a family owned joint. The pay is pretty good and the hours are flexible, because they don’t care when he works as long as the decedent is ready to go in time for services.

He doesn't generally meet with families. Unless someone has specifically requested to dress their loved one. Then he does help people out with that, because putting clothes on dead (ha) weight can actually be very difficult if you don't know what you're doing.

(Steve has no idea, but Danny is actually the guy that prepped John McGarrett for burial. It was closed casket, short graveside service, so no embalming necessary. But Danny was still the one who made sure that John was in uniform, with all requisite medals and ribbons in the correct place, before he went to the cemetery.)

Danny knows Max because every once and a while he picks up a deceased after the medical examiner is finished w/ the autopsy or whatever. They have a lot of Professional Respect for each other, from being on different sides of the Works With Dead Bodies Industry.

(“Dr. Bergman, why is it whenever I pickup a case from you, it’s always the worst? Look at this guy. The family wants open casket, and I’m gonna have to pull a miracle out of my ass.”

The body in question is at the marbling stage of decomp, and smells like it. The cosmetizing Danny’s gonna have to do to make the guy normal colored is astronomical. That’s not even getting into the state of the head. The spouse is gonna have to provide a hat for sure. He hopes the director can talk her into closing the casket for services.

“He was shot in the temple Mr. Williams. Besides, you’ll be able to manage that.”

“...Yeah. Probably,” Because Danny is Very Good at what he does, and the guy isn’t actually the absolute worst he’s ever seen. There's not even any insect activity, which is shocking.)

Anyways, one day Danny comes into work and there’s a body in his fridge that was not there yesterday when he left. He knows who he’s supposed to have in his care, and this person? Not one of them. When he gets a closer look, there’s a huge gaping wound in the chest and oh shit. Okay. Yeah. Fuck, he’s gotta call 911.

Anyways, Five-0 gets called in, because a dead body appeared over night in a locked room with no sign of break in.

(“Mr. Williams, it’s interesting to see you at your place of work, instead of my own.”

“Yeah. I gotta be honest, I don’t think I like it Dr. Bergman.”)

Danny’s in scrubs and PPE, and he smells like chemicals and death, and it’s tragic because that Commander is uh. Nice to look at. Danny’s seen him a few times in passing, when he’s been by the medical examiners to do a removal. If he didn't look like a horror movie, Danny would be tempted to flirt. Don't get him wrong, he still does, but he's not as blatant about it as he would be if they bumped into each other at a bar or something.

Anyways, what happens from there is just, the weirdest slowest courtship imaginable. Because now it seems almost every time Danny comes by to pick someone up, Commander McGarrett is there. And they exchange hellos and small talk. And it’s a coincidence, it’s gotta be.

Steve meanwhile has been flirting with the idea of uh. Letting those Gay Thoughts catch up with him, since he's gone to the reserves. Mr. Williams is attractive, with a fire cracker personality and Steve's just. Curious. You know. Wants to get to know him. But Steve's also never navigated the awkward terrain of trying to find out if a man is into other men. So Steve mostly just 'happens' to be at the medical examiners during the pickup window for funeral homes to come by.

Also Danny's trans. Just assume he's trans unless stated otherwise, in anything I write. I've decided that's a hill I'm gonna die on.

[thommi-tomate]

The first column of Holger Badstuber !

Hello football friends!

Who will be the German champion, just FCB or BVB Borussia? The cup showdown is imminent in the Bundesliga and I am happy to be able to write my first column for you.

But before I present you with my prediction for Matchday 34, I have to think back eleven years, because these are the images that come to mind these days.

Absolute silence reigned around me, I looked at my feet in front of me, my thoughts were spinning wildly in circles. I felt bewilderment, humility, but at the same time an incredible challenge. On May 12, 2012, Borussia Dortmund beat us 5-2 in the DFB Cup final.

The defeat was so painful that it cheered us up. It was already clear to us in the dressing room in Berlin: the summer break would not be a break. We couldn't go on like that. We knew we had what it took to win titles, so we immediately felt the pressure and the desire to keep working immediately, on ourselves, on the culture, to be right there again at the start of the new season.

"The season was a season full of interference."

It was the great advantage of our team. Now it's the tenth anniversary of what we then achieved at Wembley, among other things.

Setbacks are part of professional sport, whether as an individual or as a team. It is important then to draw the right conclusions, make the necessary decisions and work hard.

That still applies and especially to the current situation at my former club, FC Bayern . The season was a season of interruptions that combined to become a conflagration.

There was no recognizable clear line in the management of the club, communication with the outside seemed inconsistent, there were too many off-field issues that caused unease. In addition, there were too many goals conceded. The result is a team that is not intact and does not deserve to win titles.

"Everything has to be questioned."

Coach Thomas Tuchel is the right man in the right place. He is hard on himself, hard on the team: this mentality is needed now, everyone at Bayern needs this mentality when reflecting on this season. You have to question everything: board, club management, transfers.

But it is also important to stay positive, to think positively. FC Bayern has always had a strong winning mentality, a good culture of debate and cohesion both internally and externally. That should be the focus.

Despite all the undisputed soccer quality in the squad, I could no longer recognize this mentality at FCB.

"Bayern just fucked it up."

So my prediction for Saturday is: BVB will be German champions because Bayern did so. With seven defeats, it really wasn't a standout performance of the season by Dortmund , while BVB completely fell behind. Bayern just screwed it up.

Actually, it's not bad for football in Germany that FCB's long championship era is coming to an end. Excitement until the last day of the championship fight means a big plus in attractiveness for the Bundesliga, a gain in charisma. This is urgently needed because it has suffered so much in recent years.

In 2012, BVB and FC Bayern were the two best teams in Europe. To re-establish them, regain international respect and advance back to world class, both the Bundesliga and DFB decision-makers will have to invest a lot of work in the future.

Winning the title for Dortmund could be a start in the right direction.

Source:

[audreydoeskaren]

Have you read Spin the Dawn by Elizabeth Lim? Idk what Era precisely it's meant to be, but I'm curious if anyone in the Chinese fashion sphere has anything to say about the clothes making/designing portions of the book, re: what clothes making was really like, the job of a royal tailor/tailors in general (were they common, or did most people make their own clothes? Was it a respected job?), that kind of thing! Thank you for your work on this blog!

I don't usually read fantasy novels like Spin the Dawn but I can say a thing or two about clothing production in imperial China. The state of dressmaking was different for each era and I can only talk a little bit about the Ming and Qing. Obviously I don't know the complete details of every stage of production for clothing, I'll just share some things that I do have knowledge on. Most of my information came from Rachel Silberstein's book A Fashionable Century: Textile Artistry and Commerce in the Late Qing, which could be read on JSTOR.

Royal dressmaking

Clothing that was meant for royal use was seldom created by one person alone, but rather the combined efforts of specialists and professionals in different areas. The designs would be made by artists in court, then textiles used for the clothing would be commissioned from state owned textile workshops, then sent to tailors to be sewn into garments and then to embroiderers if embroidery was required. Embroidery wasn't always necessary, since for most of the Ming fashionable and prestigious clothing was made from fabrics with woven patterns (e.g. brocades, damasks) instead of embroidered ones; embroidery would not become the dominant form of decoration until the Ming-Qing transition in the mid 17th century. Normal people wouldn't be able to purchase fabrics from the imperial workshops, but imperial workshops have been on the decline since the late Ming and commercial workshops were producing quality fabrics on a par with those from the imperial ones. Imperial workshop also frequently sublet their work to commercial ones.

As to the design aspect, formal court dress was heavily regulated as to what patterns and garments could be used for what occasion, so there wasn’t much room for artistic liberty. It was on informal clothing that more creativity could be exercised; embroiderers could choose what patterns and motifs go on garments and tailors could experiment with different proportions.

Source

Women’s 吉服 jifu formal ensemble from the Qianlong era. The patterns and their placement for such formal garments were fixed.

Source

Guangxu era informal 氅衣 changyi. The final appearance of this garment was still the combined efforts of many people, e.g. the weavers decided on the purple color, the tailor decided on the proportion and the embroiderers the floral motifs etc..

Home dressmaking

Common people prior to the 17th century mostly made their own clothes, particularly by the female members of the household. It was very common to make clothing from scratch i.e. the growing of cotton or grooming of silkworms, to fabric weaving, sewing and embroidering. It was considered a part of women's education to learn how to weave fabrics and sew garments together, but this doesn't mean that the entire dressmaking process was confined to women or one person either; men, who were expected to do farm work, would grow the crops necessary for the weaving of fabrics, and often assisted in the weaving process. Since the majority of the Chinese population lived in the countryside, many families produced fabrics from raw materials they made on their own farms and made clothes from said fabrics. Because of the difficulty in weaving brocaded fabrics by oneself, home dressmakers who couldn't afford to buy ready woven fabrics prior to the late Ming had to limit themselves to plain fabrics. In the late Ming and early Qing, the rise of embroidery as the dominant method of decoration meant that fashionable patterns became available to less wealthy people who couldn't afford to buy expensive brocaded fabrics, since they could reproduce all the fashionable patterns with just needle, thread and spare time. Embroidery books showing popular patterns and motifs were widely available and could be purchased cheaply. With that said, that doesn't mean that the entirety of a garment had to be made from scratch; many decorations and notions could be bought from shops, like trimmings, ribbons, buttons and prefabricated embroidery appliques. The seamstress would just need to buy the fabric, decorations and notions and put them together as one garment. In the Qing, women seldom went out of the house, and they relied on vendors or middlemen for vendors who brought products to their homes for sale. For women at the time, being a skilled weaver, seamstress or embroiderer was a highly desirable trait, not just because it symbolized "female virtue" whatever that means, but also because it provided work opportunities. Women who were otherwise not employed could take commissions from commercial weaving, tailoring or embroidery workshops as a side income.

Commercial dressmaking

Since the 17th century, the textile industry was increasingly commercialized and it since became more viable to purchase ready woven fabrics from commercial workshops, especially for people in urban areas.  These were usually owned by rural families as a side income, and they would often hire landless people to work in their manufactories. I don't know if owning a textile manufactory was a respected job (probably not, considering the literati's hatred for everything commercial) but these people did make serious money. Family operating businesses were often co-owned by wife and husband. Embroidery workshops making prefabricated embroidered appliques and tailor shops making ready to wear garments were also quite common, often relying on middlemen for delivering orders and negotiating prices between the workshop and individual embroiderers/seamstresses in the countryside. In Qing tailor shops, it was often the case that only menswear could be purchased ready to wear, whereas womenswear was made to measure or by the wearer herself. Within tailor shops, there were many subdivisions of labor, like some people did pattern drafting, some people cut pattern pieces and some people assembled the garments. The status of commercial tailors has historically been low, mostly because of the Confucian ruling class’ disdain for consumption, luxury and anything non-self sustaining.

Source

Ca. 1780s export painting showing weaving women.

Feminist tangent

In the Qing, most home weaving and embroidering were done by women, but the commercial workshops were male dominated and their guilds prohibited entry for women, because commercial dressmaking had become a lucrative business and men didn’t want to share employment with women. Male employees in workshops were considered artisans and better paid, whereas women who had to work at home were considered unskilled labor and paid less. Most commercial tailors in the Qing were also male, for reasons similar to why embroidery was male dominated. Whereas women commonly sewed clothes for themselves and their families, they were often prohibited from becoming professional tailors working in workshops or joining a guild. It’s that bogus thing where handicrafts are “women’s work” but when men see how profitable they are they suddenly become “artistic” and limited to men. 

Commercial tailors, who were male, were seen as a cultural abomination for doing what was historically seen as “women’s work” for profit. In order to elevate themselves to a higher, more respected status, they chose to throw women under the bus and revise the history of all things historically considered “women’s work” to make them more male centered. An example of this was the 露香园 Luxiang Yuan or Dew Fragrance Garden, a renowned Suzhou embroidery workshop built up by three generations of women of the Gu family, who owned the estate and was the namesake of their style of embroidery, 顾绣 guxiu or Gu embroidery. The male family head at the time, Gu Mingshi, later became the patron saint of the Suzhou embroiderer’s guild founded in 1867. The reason why Gu Mingshi was worshipped instead of the three women who made Gu embroidery famous was largely because male members of the Suzhou embroiderer’s guild needed historical justification for their exclusion of women and erasure of women’s contributions. Apparently late 19th century scholars also complained about this misogyny so this isn’t a new understanding.

Source

Gu embroidery by Han Ximeng, one of the three OG Gu women.

With all of this said, it doesn’t mean that women stopped working in commercial embroidery; women were actually the backbone of the industry, they just didn’t get any recognition from official, male written guild records and such. Many people in the 19th century observed that while the resident embroiderers in commercial workshops were men, a lot of their work was sublet to independent female embroiderers in the countryside, who were not credited on the finished product or advertising. 

Now I’m kinda inspired to make a whole rant about working women in the Qing and their representation (or lack thereof) in the Republican era, but there are some 20 unanswered asks sitting in my ask box so maybe later😅

[maehara-san]

strawberry feelings

Pairing: AU!Katsuki Bakugo x F!Reader

Summary: After looking for months for a job position you finally get an opportunity at a big company. Being the assistant of the angriest person was going to be a lot harder than you thought it would be.

A|N: I can’t believe you guys managed to get my series list to 1k+ notes! That’s insane thank you for sharing my series it means the world <3 <3 We are also close to 700 followers as well! I love you guys thank you so much!!

🄼.🄻🄸🅂🅃

ⓉⒶⒼⓈ  ⬇⬇⬇

Beads of sweat kept running down the sides of your forehead. It was impossible to keep going, you knew your body would end up giving out any second.

“I-I...” you huffed out as your calves were getting ready to give out at any second. “I-I can’t! Tenya!... Y-you’re going too...d-damn fast!”

The blue-haired man turned around and stopped, taking a good look at you he realized you weren’t lying. Iida moved his glasses up the bridge of his nose into a comfortable adjustment. “Alright.” he said, “Let’s stop here and walk back home.”

“T-thank you!” you mumbled and collapsed on to the ground panting heavily. As much as you tried to breathe properly it was impossible getting enough air in.

“I get that I didn’t run for almost three weeks....b-but was it necessary to get up at 6 in the morning?” you questioned looking at him.

“You were the one who said you wanted to get back to running.” he answered, “I won’t be able to do it later since one of my patients is having surgery today...”

“Right...little Yui.” you said “H-How is she doing?” you grabbed your filled water bottle and began to drink sighing as you felt the cold water running down your throat.

“Yui is doing better, we hope this surgery will be the last. After all, she’s barely a kid, and getting these many procedures is too dangerous for her body to handle.”

You smiled softly looking at him “Don’t worry. She’s in good hands, Yui is being treated by the greatest Surgeon in the world!”

He smiled small “Thank you Y/n. Are you ready to head back? We have an hour until we have to go back to work.”

“Yes, I’m ready to go home and get myself cleaned. I need to ASAP since today there’s a lot to do,” you added.

“When aren’t you not busy?” he joked.

“Stuff that happens when you become an assistant I guess.” you shrugged ���I’m stopping by after work to bring you dinner though.”

“I can’t wait to look forward to it then.” he chuckled.

After an hour and a half, you’d finally made it to the company on time with fifteen minutes to spare. You checked in at the front desk, quickly making your way over to the cafeteria to pick up Midoriya’s coffee for the morning.

“Busy morning?” Sara asked as she handed you the fresh cup of coffee along with a treat.

“A little you could say that.” you answered chuckling and gave her the money, “I’ll see you at lunch!”

She waved goodbye only shaking her head, smiling at your silliness. You checked the time seeing you had five minutes left. You headed to his office and began sorting everything out for the day. The coffee was neatly placed on his desk, the papers that were scattered across were put back into the same file.

The phone then rang, you quickly went over and picked it up. “Midoriya’s office, [name] [last name] speaking,” you spoke grabbing your notepad and pen ready to write a message down.

“Hello this is Hassaku Daisuke from Iwate school of Engineering.” he said, “Is Mr. Midoriya there by any chance?”

“I apologize but he hasn’t arrived yet. Would you like to leave a message?” you asked.

“Please tell him to call me back as soon as possible. I’d like to speak to him about something important. I’ll leave you my number so he can contact me.” he said.

You then agreed and wrote down the phone number making sure it was correct. Afterward, you bid him goodbye and hung up, you placed the sticky note on your desk where it won’t get lost.

“Hey.” someone spoke, you turned around and saw Bakugo standing there by the door.

Your cheeks turned a light pink “H-hey...Bakugo.” you softly smiled “Midoriya hasn’t arrived yet if you were looking for him.”

“Actually... I came to see you.” he rubbed the back of his neck feeling nervous to look at you. “I wasn’t sure if you had anything to eat yet...” he then moved his arm forward to show you two plastic food trays. “Are...you hungry?”

It was hard to contain the smile that was spreading widely by the second. Trying to keep yourself calmed down you nodded shyly, “I-I am...I was about to get something to eat.”

Bakugo smirked, “It’s a good thing I showed up first then.”

‘The way he dressed today makes it hard to look away, I can’t believe he brought me food.’ you thought ‘Maybe...he’s changing...’

“What?” he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Oh no!” you raised your hands while shaking your head, you chuckled lightly “Sorry...let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

A small smile formed on his lips, his heart was racing and smirk was impossible to hide. You opened your plate to see Tamagoyaki on top of a bed of rice and a side of miso soup with some slices of salmon as well. The steam hit your nostrils making your stomach grumble. you didn’t realize how hungry you were.

“This...looks delicious. Thank you for the food Bakugo.” you said, “They’re all my favorite foods.”

He nodded “You should start eating...or else...you’ll pass out throughout the day.”

Sitting down next to each other you tried your best to calm your beating heart.

"Have you spoken to Mina?" he asked.

"No not after the conversation we had. Denki and her have been busy these days." you answered, "I'm surprised she hasn't messaged me she usually does."

"As long as she hasn't told you anything embarrassing about me then I'm fine with that." he admitted "I can't believe she opened her mouth," he mumbled poking at his rice before grabbing it with his chopsticks.

"I mean...all in all I'm glad she told me what was going on." you confessed "It...well...- gives clarity on how things are now at least." you chuckled rubbing the back of your head. "That's a good thing no?..."

Bakugo nodded biting his inner lip "Yeah...just not the way I wanted you to find out."

"But it worked and I'm thankful she told me that night. It helped make things clearer for me now that I understand."

He placed his chopsticks down on the table and looked at you. "About Abigail..."

"You don't have to explain it to me." you said "I know you both have a past...and I'm not inclined to say anything when I don't know how it happened or how you're feeling. All I ask is...for you to be honest...as long as you're doing that then...that's all that matters."

"Mhmm." he sounded sure yet at the same time he was conflicted about how things will turn out.

You smiled brightly and then dig into every piece of food in front of you. It was truly heaven how all the flavors came together so well. “I know that Kaminari and Todoroki are into business as well...but what about Iida?” Bakugo asked.

“Iida chose a different profession he was set on going into business with Todoroki then he had a troubling moment in his life and decided to pursue into being a doctor,” you answered. “He’s a great surgeon, after studying for 12 years he was able to finally be part of a hospital and is now doing surgery for almost 2 years.”

“That’s...a lot.” he said, “I’m surprised he never gave into to changing is occupation.”

“He did actually, a few times. Some of the professors weren’t all that understanding, they were tough which brought his confidence down. Still, he never gave up even when it was impossible to pass at times.” you smiled small “I admire him...he’s been so strong, sometimes I wished I had his dedication.”

Bakugo placed his chopsticks down and turned to look at you. “I know I was a dickhead...and you wanted to quit. But I think you have a lot more guts coming back here despite all the bullshit I threw at you. You’re definitively strong and not weak for wanting to leave. I was at fault for that. You are doing fine now, even if another problem happens you know not to back down. That’s what you’ve always shown.”

“It wasn’t easy...still isn’t actually.” you admitted “A lot of people still believe that I was the one who screwed up on the project.

“Fuck them.” he abruptly said.

You were taken back by his use of words knowing these were his employees he was talking about. “I-I know they were talking bad but I don’t it’s necessary to talk like that-”

He then cut you off “-it doesn’t matter if they’re my employees or not. They’re talking crap without even knowing shit in the first place. It’s not acceptable, I’m not going to defend them if they’re acting like a bunch of high school punks. This isn’t a playground anymore, if they’re brave enough to talk crap behind your back then they’re too weak to tell you upfront.”

As much as you tried being the good person you knew deep down he was right. People like that shouldn’t be respected, it’s not okay to start rumors where you’re supposed to be professional.

“I hate to say that...it’s the way to go but in the end...” you sighed “You’re right Bakugo. Sometimes it's impossible to change their mind no matter how hard you try.” you played with your fingers looking down at your lap as flashbacks began to come back.

There was a change in the mood, Bakugo noticed it right away. Something was hurting you, yet it wasn’t his place to ask you about the problem not when it was troubling you so much. He moved his chair closer to you and held your hand.

Without any warning or signs, he was holding it protectively. You couldn’t talk, there was something about him that made it impossible to speak. He looked at you in the eyes. With his look he saying so much to you even if it seemed like he wasn’t.

“It’s fine.” he softly spoke.

Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest. You couldn’t look away from his red orbs. “Please don’t let me fall.” you suddenly spoke not realizing what was coming out of your mouth.

“Never.”

Your lips curved into a small smile hearing his reply.

A knock then sounded at the door disrupting the moment between you two. “Ah! Here you are [last name].” Your friend and colleague, Nakano, spoke as she opened the door seeing you and Bakugo together.

“Nakano, hey is there something you need?” you asked.

“Mr. Midoriya is here he’s waiting for you in the conference room,” she said.

You looked at her confused, “In the conference room? Did he say what for?”

“All he mentioned was about it being important. He told me to take care of any calls that came in.” Nakano replied.

“Oh.” you said, “I see, thank you I’ll be right out then.”

She excused herself and closed the door. “You should get going it’s important you don’t want to keep him waiting,” Bakugo spoke.

“Right.” you slightly smiled, “Um...thank you for the breakfast. I’ll make sure to finish it later when I get back. I’m sorry I have to go.”

“It’s fine.” he replied “I need to talk to Kirishima about something. At least you have something in your stomach.”

“I’ll see you later then,” you said grabbing your phone and clipboard along with a few other important things. Bakugo gave you a nod, you turned back around to look at him again before closing the door.

Your heart was still beating when you left the room. You weren’t sure how to comprehend what happened in there. All you were sure about was how your chest tightened when he held your hand in yours.

‘Whatever happens...I don’t want to be afraid of going forward.’  you thought. Upon seeing the room you took a deep breath and calmed yourself down before walking down the stairs.

When you arrived in the lobby you saw someone standing in front of the main deck. “I need to speak to her please, if you tell her who I am I’m sure she’ll know who I am.” they impatiently spoke.

“I understand but she’s in a meeting right now with Mr. Midoriya. I can’t interrupt-”

“Suzuki, it’s okay,” you said walking over to the person who had their back turned towards you. “Is there something you need that’s important?”

The mysterious stranger then turned around, your legs took a step back not believing who it was. “W-what...are you doing here?” you questioned trying to keep your voice down.

“I need to talk to you.” they went to touch but you moved your back not wanting to be anywhere close to them. “Don’t...touch me...”

They sighed “You must come with me.”

“Why would I want to go anywhere with you, Reo?-”

“It’s your dad.” he answered, “He’s at the hospital.”

Your eyes blinked not comprehending what he had said “What?... Why did they call you to come? You have no business with them.”

“I was at work when your mother called me telling me about your dad. She didn’t have anyone else to call. She insisted that I’d come for you so you could go see him.” he explained.

“It doesn’t matter...there’s no reason for me to be near them...please leave,” you said swallowing the cries that wanted to erupt. “I don’t want to have to call security.”

“I understand that you don’t want to see me but they’re your parents first.” he said “The least you could do is push away that anger and go see them. I’m not sure how injured he is.” Reo then took out a card and wrote down the address of the hospital he was at. “If you change your mind this is where he is.”

The numbers were immediately recognizable to you “He’s in the hospital where Tenya is working at?”

He nodded “Tenya offered to look after him, I don’t know much about your dad’s details. I was at fault for all that happened don’t hold the grudge against them. You know how long it has been...don’t let more years pass by.”

Reo then left, Bakugo walked down the same stairs after seeing the mysterious man leave. “Is everything alright?” he spoke.

Your phone then vibrated, Tenya had sent you a message telling you about your dad’s condition. “Yeah...everything is fine,” you answered. “I should get going, Midoriya is probably waiting for me.”

“You don’t need to lie,” he said.

“I’ll talk to you later Bakugo.” you excused yourself and went to the conference room. He followed you and managed to stop you before entering the room. You were going to ask him to let you go but he spoke.

“I’ll tell Midoriya what happened. You should go to the hospital you have a job to be next to your father,” he said.

“And I have a job to do here as well, I can’t drop everything and go see them,” you added. “I’ll go once I’m done-”

“You can come back and do the work he told you to do. Right now something else is more important than attending a stupid meeting.”

‘He was right...why was he right?!’ you thought, struggling to find an answer to this whole mess. Sometimes you preferred to not have had parents, now when everything was set and done it’s like fate wanted to mess with you.

You relaxed your arm, “Fine...” you softly spoke, Bakugo then let go of your arm “I’ll go...I will be back in time before we all get together in the afternoon.”

“I’ll tell Midoriya and let him know you needed to get something done,” he said looking at you. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” your eyes looked at the door and then left leaving Bakugo alone.

He opened the brown double door, inside he saw all sorts of people standing around. Some he knew while others were only strangers he didn’t care about. “Midoriya,” he called out.

The green-haired man then turned around to see his colleague standing there. “What is it Bakugo?” Midoriya asked.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

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[mellometal]

Do we have ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to rip apart today? Yes, we do.

This one is a real specimen...a real treat, if you will. I'm gonna have a field day with this. Today, we'll be talking about how to actually treat disabled people! Specifically physically disabled people! This is something I have a bit of a specialty in, since I do work with disabled people for a living.

This is a VERY recent video, by the way. When I watched this, it made my blood boil seeing how this disabled woman was being treated. Reading some of the comments people were making took everything in me to not scream at them through my phone. Why? I had the shadow of a doubt that they were probably very young and have never been around disabled people before...even though they very well probably have, but didn't realize it.

Before I begin, there's A LOT of ableism that I'm going to talk about. If that triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, feel free to scroll past this and consume content that sparks joy.

To sum up the video, a disabled woman was getting out of her truck in the parking lot, intending to do some grocery shopping. An able-bodied woman (Karen) comes up to this woman to ask her a whole bunch of questions, try to help her unload things out of her truck (when she didn't need any help in the first place), and "tried to relate" by saying that she was in a wheelchair for two weeks in high school. Please don't do that.

Karen touched this woman's wheelchair without her consent and attempted to push her when she never asked for any help.

NEVER touch a disabled person, their wheelchair, walker, motor scooter, cane, etc. (medical equipment, essentially), without their consent. Unless the disabled person cannot move around on their own, they give you their consent, you're their caretaker, family members, or a professional who works with disabled people, don't touch them or their equipment. Even then, it never hurts to ask them first, especially if you're a new caretaker or a new professional in their home and they don't know you very well. If they tell you "no" and/or the person/people with them say "no", it means "no" and you need to leave them alone. If they tell you that they don't need your help, to leave them alone, or anything else along those lines, those phrases also mean "no". If they say they need help or they ask for help, of course, help them.

(ETA: Wheelchairs, walkers, motor scooters, canes, etc., are part of the physically disabled person. These things are how they move around. I meant this in the, "Don't touch THEM." kind of sense. Just thought I'd clarify real quick.)

Karen then pulled out her phone to take a picture with the disabled woman, despite her saying she didn't want to have pictures being taken of her. Karen POSTED IT ON HER SOCIAL MEDIA. The disabled woman says to Karen to leave her alone, stop worrying about her, and that she doesn't need any help.

In the store, the disabled woman is just getting some groceries...like anyone else would. She gets her reaching tool out to grab an item off the top shelf behind Karen, who makes a tasteless joke about how she should give her a speeding ticket. The disabled woman makes a remark that her legs may not work, but her eyes do. She grabs a bottle of blue cheese dressing off the top shelf with her reaching tool, which Karen grabs for her without asking.

Karen crouches down to talk to the disabled woman, which makes the woman understandably uncomfortable. The woman tries to put her groceries on the counter to pay for them, which Karen butts in YET AGAIN. The woman is obviously fed up at this point, rightfully so. Karen then offers to pay for this woman's groceries, which wasn't necessary whatsoever. Why? Because she "felt bad" for her and has the assumption that disabled people "don't have a lot of money". She also asked the disabled woman what happened for her to be in a wheelchair, which is something that I've only heard of CHILDREN asking. (That's none of your business, by the way. It's up to that person to tell you.)

Listen, disabled people don't need to be pitied. They're disabled. It is what it is. Being disabled isn't a disease, so please stop treating it like it is. As far as disabled people not having a lot of money, that's not exactly true for every aspect of life. They're not allowed to have any more than $2,000 in assets each month along with their benefits. They do have money, and the amount all depends on the person. You cannot just bunch up all disabled people's income as the same. Some disabled people don't have SSI. If they get married, their income gets even lower or they lose benefits completely, which is extremely fucked up and makes them more vulnerable to being exploited, abused, and controlled. Marriage equality STILL doesn't exist because disabled people are STILL not being treated as equals in marriages. Some places only pay disabled employees like $3.34 an hour or something crazy like that (that's how much Goodwill pays disabled employees, by the way). The working conditions for disabled people NEED to change. Give them a livable wage. You CANNOT live off of $3.34 an hour. Make companies give necessary, legal accommodations to disabled people. They have a right to their assets and to keep them, regardless of whether they get married or not. Why would you reduce that or take that away from them? Do you even know what their benefits go towards? THEM BEING ABLE TO LIVE, IN LAYMAN'S TERMS. All in all, help make the world a better place for disabled people. (Edited for new information.)

She pulls out her phone AGAIN to take pictures with the disabled woman, who puts her hand up to the phone and says she doesn't want to have pictures being taken of her. Karen then says that she's "just trying to spread awareness"....disabled people aren't a disease. They're not a danger to you. All disabled people ask for is to be accepted, treated like everyone else, and to have accommodations readily available for them. People are already aware of the existence of disabled people.

The disabled woman is clearly very fed up and wants to get back to her truck and go to wherever she needs to be, Karen goes out to confront her "for being rude", and the disabled woman confronts Karen for being extremely rude to her and stomping all over her boundaries. This woman was VERY polite too. Actually, WAY too polite. A lot of people in the comments section seemed to misunderstand her justified anger and wrote it off as her being a bitch. If you were a disabled person who's completely independent, you had some stranger randomly come up to you to ask twenty questions, they were constantly harassing you, touching you without your consent, shoving their phone or camera in your face to take pictures of you even when you told them you weren't okay with that, belittled you, and boiled you down to your disability, YOU'D BE PISSED TOO.

This woman tells Karen to not assume that disabled people all are completely helpless and can't do anything for themselves, that she's more than her disability, and to respect people. Karen apologizes (finally) and briefly explains that she thought she was trying to do a good deed. The woman says that she knows people have good intentions, but they again, shouldn't assume that all disabled people need their help. Especially when they don't ask for it. Plot twist: she owns her own company and is rich! (There are/have been rich disabled people; however, I can only name a few off the top of my head.)

Only then does Karen FINALLY decide to delete the picture she posted of this woman that she took without her consent. And it ends there.

(Context: The disabled woman told Karen that she didn't need her to push her....and yet Karen tries to anyway.)

This isn't okay. Karen should have left this woman alone after she told Karen to do so.

Taking pictures of people, despite them telling you that they don't want to take pictures, and posting them on social media without their consent for clout! What's that called again? Hmmmm....I know! EXPLOITATION! And being an extremely disrespectful sack of shit.

Again....if they say "no" or anything else along those lines, IT MEANS NO.

Onto my response. Again, like usual, it's a long response.

This is pretty much what I've said earlier...but like, seriously. If you want to help disabled people, THAT'S GREAT! You can try getting a job at a place that helps disabled people! You can volunteer!

Just....don't be like Karen in this video. Enough said. I don't think I need to elaborate further on that.

[dwellordream]

“...Cloth fibers could be dyed at several points during production (though again, note above that dyeing was far more common for wool than for linen). Assuming wool was scoured after shearing, it could be dyed at that point (thus the phrase ‘dyed in the wool’) though unscoured wool will not generally take a dye because the natural oils of the wool will prevent the dye from setting into the cloth. Alternately, wool might be spun and then dyed either as thread or as finished woven cloth. In the early modern period, undyed woven fabrics fit for dying were called ‘whites’ and might either be dyed locally or in some cases shipped significant distances to be dyed elsewhere (in no small part because, as we’ll see, the availability of dye colors was regionally dependent).

Today, we are used to the effectively infinite range of colors offered by synthetic dyes, but for pre-modern dye-workers, they were largely restricted to colors that could be produced from locally available or imported dyestuffs. If you wanted a given color of fabric, you needed to be able to find something in the natural world which, when broken down could give you a chemical pigment that you could transfer to your fabric in a durable way. That put real limits on the colors which could be dyed and the availability of those colors.

Some colors simply couldn’t be produced this way – a good example were golden or metallic colors. If something in a dress was to be truly golden (and not merely yellow), the only way to do that prior to synthetic dyes and paints was to use actual gold, weaving small strands of ultra-thin gold wire into the cloth or embroidering designs with it. Needless to say, that was something only done by the very wealthy. Alternately, if the dye for a given hue or color came from something rare or foreign or difficult to process (for instance, in all three cases, Tyrian or royal purple, which came from the murex sea snails – if you have ever wondered why no country has purple as a national color this is why, before synthetic dyes, coloring your flags and uniforms purple would have been bonkers expensive), then it was going to be expensive and rare and there just wasn’t much you could do about that.

What dyes were available thus varied based on where you were and how much you could afford to import. Determining ancient dye availability is often tricky, since fabric so rarely survives, but we know that the Romans prized a wide range of colors; Pliny gives us some clues as to some of the more expensive dyes in his Natural History (such as saffron for a rich yellow), along with more common colors like blue (from woad), red (from madder), brown (from walnuts), and a cheaper yellow from weld. Similar sets of dyes were available in the Middle Ages, J.S. Lee notes the principal dyestuffs in use in England were woad (blue), madder (red), weld (yellow), ‘grain’ red (scarlet, this is kermes dye), cinnabar (vermillion), saffron (yellow) and various other vegetable and fruit dies (op. cit. 62). Many of these were imported; madder and weld from Germany, France and the Baltic, kermes and woad from the Mediterranean, Cinnabar from the Red Sea area. Madder, weld and woad in particular were the cheapest and most common dyes and served as the foundation for clothing color in the ancient and medieval Mediterranean (which is, consequently, why colors that can be produced by those dyes, or by mixing them, are so common in medieval artwork depicting clothing).

Eventually (‘true’) indigo blue dye came all the way from India (it was known to the Greeks and the Romans) but because of its imported nature it was an expensive luxury product in Europe prior to European colonial expansion. Indigo is a particularly good example, however, of how a dye (and its associated color, the deep blue) could be relatively inexpensive and available in one place and a rare luxury good used as a status symbol in others. While the dyes available were somewhat restricted, dyers could of course combine pigments to get composite colors, giving a fairly wide range of colors, assuming one had the money for the pigments...

The actual dying process varied based on the pigment being used and there were likely local craft differences as well. Still the process could be complex, with dyestuffs often needing to be ground down or broken up and then often heated (sometimes boiled) in order to get the pigments ready before the cloth would be immersed in the dye.

...Other dyes might require a mordant, a fixing agent which enabled the pigment to set on the fibers of the fabric. Alum was often used; in the Middle Ages it was sourced from Asia Minor and so needed to reach Europe via Mediterranean trade (although Italian sources of alum were found in 1462; it was only produced domestically in England in the 17th century and after). In other cases, as with the use of dyes produced from wood, tannic acid might be used as the mordant. Each dye had its own unique preparation process to produce the dye; some involved boiling, others fermenting, some grinding down the products and so on. Dyers needed access to quite a lot of water, both for the processes of making dye, but also to discharge the various effluent from the process – spent dye mixtures and waste water. Once the dye was made, the fibers, which might be unspun wool, spun wool thread or woven wool cloth, were immersed in the dye and then agitated; the agitation was done with a ‘dyer’s posser’ and introducing or removing the cloth was done with tongs.

...Now it is necessary to caveat this upfront: in terms of raw amounts of cloth produced, household textile production is likely to have outstripped commercial textile production until the start of the industrial revolution, so while commercial textile production is more visible to us (in part because rich businesses tend to leave records and their owners tend to be the sort of people to be literate and write things like wills which we can read) they weren’t the majority of production. So while clothiers and cloth merchants and professional weavers often get more attention in the sources (and consequently may get more attention in some modern treatments) they were likely a minority of cloth workers and cloth production prior to the early modern period.

At the same time, it is clearly wrong to think of the household production chain as being completely divorced from the commercial production chain; the two were clearly intermingled. Fullers and dyers seem to have represented a point where the two production systems converged; fulling and dying were difficult to do at household scale and required special skills and so it seems that even a household producing its own textiles would have a use for the fuller and the dyer to finish those clothes (because, again, people liked to look nice). Moreover, as we’ve discussed already, commercial clothiers often sourced the spinning and weaving they needed through the putting out system, paying domestic spinners and weavers (mainly women) on a wage or piece-work basis (that is, per-unit of thread or fabric).

...But of course there were also purely commercial workers making cloth, including elements of production that couldn’t be brought into the household (like fulling and dyeing) but also producers who worked primarily for the market. The emergence of large-scale textile production for markets – what we might term commercial production – seems closely connected to the rise of large cities, presumably because those cities contained both elites who might want to buy more (or finer) fabrics than their household could produce as well as poorer workers whose households (which might just be themselves) lacked the ability to produce textiles at all. Long distance trade was also clearly a factor that drove the emergence of large-scale cloth production; wool products were major exports as early as third millennium BC Summer (on this, note several of the chapters in C. Breniquet and C. Michel, op. cit.)

In both cases, we can see that dyers tend to be rather more highly paid than other textile workers, while second place goes to fullers (in the second chart, note that fulling, cleansing and finishing were all done in a fullery; it is the last task, I think, that would be done by the fuller himself (or herself) rather than paid workers or – in the Roman context – enslaved workers), with skilled professional weavers in the third place. The range of tax paid though gives a real sense of how there might be a considerable separation between the earning power of small-scale producers (or apprentices and other hired workers in a larger operation) and producers working at a larger scale (or making elite products).

Dyeworks (and fulleries in the medieval period) tended to be located just outside of urban centers, in part because of the smell (both kinds of work tend to smell quite bad). Because both dyeing and fulling made use of bad smelling mixtures, older scholars often assumed that the workers in these occupations were low status individuals and looked down upon. And while it is true that there does seem to have been some sense that these places were not terribly sanitary, more recent scholarship tends to show little evidence that the people who worked there – particularly the skilled, professional dyers and fullers – were low-status themselves.

In terms of the social position of cloth-makers, one indicator we can look to is professional associations and guilds. In the Roman world, professional associations (collegia) of fullers seem to have been quite common and Miko Flohr (op. cit.) argues persuasively that Roman fullers were respectable professionals, similar to other artisans – well below the political and social elite (whose wealth was in large landholdings), but not disreputable. Fuller’s collegia could be significant politically though; Flohr notes that Roman fullers seem to have been politically active, for instance, in Pompeii’s local politics (most famously dedicating a statue of Eumachia, a local aristocratic woman, outside of the ‘building of Eumachia’ the purpose of which is still under some dispute (but perhaps a market-place for fabric?)).

...So while the landed elite will have looked down their nose as textile workers (they looked down their nose at everyone), skilled professional textile workers represented fixtures in what we might see as a lower-middle-class of sorts in pre-modern cities. Because there were so many of them (and because they were attached to cloth merchants who might be truly wealthy) they often exerted a significant political and cultural pull. Thus there is an enormous range in the status of cloth-workers, from the well-to-do dyer who might be a respected professional artisan to the poorly paid spinner working in the ‘putting out’ system in her spare time when she wasn’t making clothing for her relatively poor farming family.”

- Bret Devereaux, “Clothing, How Did They Make It? Part IVa: Dyed in the Wool.”

[coeursetcolores]

What I Would Add/Change About: Dead or Alive 6

Hello internet! As you probably know, I love video games and I would talk about my feelings for the ones I’ve played for hours. Unfortunately, I don’t pay too much attention to the various gameplay and added content mechanics, so I don’t feel as though I’m qualified to give full-on reviews; my focus is usually on the story and characters, but I am learning to keep a more open eye. So, I’ve decided to start this series! On the anniversary of a game I’ve played’s release, I will talk about what I think a game could have included to improve certain elements or what I think they should have just changed all together about something in it. I will make sure to include what I liked about it as well to keep these from getting too negative. 

This is all just my own personal opinion and if you disagree with me, that’s perfectly okay! If you’d like to talk about a point I made, please let me know, but please try to respect my opinion as I respect yours.

Fair warning, I won’t talk about online stuff. I’m not an online gamer, that’s just not me.

Well, with out further ado, let’s get started!

Today is March 1st. Two years ago in 2019, Dead or Alive 6 was released. Bet you guys didn’t know I was fan, did you?

Yes. Yes I am. And there is one thing I love more than that entire series all together.

Kasumi.

I love that woman.

I have yet to see any other woman that I would even consider loving as much as her.

Amazing main, best girl, gripping protagonist, top-tier waifu.

But back to the subject!

Almost seven years since Dead or Alive 5 was released and left it’s audience wanting more, today we ask: Did it live up to seven years of expectations?

For me...

YES! 

...Mostly.

I had a real fun time playing when I could (I didn’t have constant access to the console I played it on, don’t ask) but even with how polished the series has gotten, there were a few things that left a sour taste in my mouth. 

Let’s go over them, shall we?

SPOILERS AHEAD!

To keep a positive spin on this criticism, I’m going to talk first about all the things I absolutely LOVED about the game:

IT’S. STUNNING. The graphics look amazing, and the slow-motion and visible injuries along with DOA5′s sweat and dirt gives the fights such a weight, it’s brutally gorgeous and I love that video games have reached that level of detail. 

Voice acting is good, and I’d have to give best performance to Karen Strassman’s Helena just for her after fight in Kokoro’s story mode because. My gosh. The way she begs Kokoro not to leave her is just heartbreaking, and to do all that while doing an accent is just amazing.

Funniest part of the game was definitely when Zack told Tina she couldn’t be governor. I love how he just shot her down in a whole series of her dad failing to drag her away from her wild dreams through fighting, Zack accomplishes it just by reminding her how the law works.

Kasumi is safe! ...Apart from all the evil clones sent after her. But Ayane is finally leaving her alone!

Helena in the ending. My gosh, the way she just shuts NiCO down and calls her out on failing to move on healthily is a good message about properly dealing with grief and really shows how much she’s grown in the series from the vengeance seeker she started as.

I genuinely liked the addition of Marie Rose. She had a cool design and her character was really charming. The team could easily have made her super annoying, but she was pretty solid, and I appreciate that.

Kokoro’s dress with the beret. It’s just too cute!

I still love kicking opponents off the stage.

Still glad the series hasn’t decided to sink into hyperrealism.

COLORS! ...Those are dying in video games. :( 

The story for the most part is interesting and every character gets to shine in their own special way.

Diego was really cool, I always love the addition of an untrained street fighter keeping up with these professional martial artists, it really goes to show that in a fight anything can happen.

I really loved watching Tina and Bass become a tag team, aww! Tina does love her daddy!

The costumes, as always, are awesome.

Vibrant backgrounds, as expected.

The fact that it happened! I was worried I’d never see my sweet Kasumi again!

Alright! Now that we got all the things I unquestionably loved about the game down, here are some things I feel the game was missing.

ADD:

MORE KASUMI! If she’s your heroine, give her more screen time! (What do you mean I’m biased?!)

Have some more time with Kasumi, Ayane and Hayate, show just how conflicted they are by their tragic circumstances when they have to work together when they all know that they will never be able to go back home together. That ending scene was bittersweet, but I feel like they could have done more.

Bring Bayman into the alliance? I mean, he does want revenge on Phase 4. I get that he kinda works with them, I just think they could use him more.

Have Kasumi have a fight with the main Phase 4? I think it’d be interesting to have this clone weapon, who hates that she hurts people, face off against the original who’s now accepted the brutality of the world and will show no mercy to those who stand in her way. I feel like it’d give Kasumi some introspection and see just how much she’s changed; in a way, Phase 4 is a lot like how Kasumi started: she didn’t want to hurt anyone and make enemies, but she couldn’t do anything about it. The difference is Kasumi became the way she is because of her own choice and beliefs while Phase 4 literally can’t stop herself.

Have Lisa explain herself, geez! What is up with this woman?! What are her goals exactly?! Wait...how is she still alive?! Woman straight up had a building fall on her! Why are we just letting her walk away?! LISA!! GET BACK HERE!! WHAT’S YOUR DEAL WOMAN?!!!

So...I guess we still don’t get to beat the crap out of Donovan? Sigh...guess they’re saving that for 7. Hopefully.

And that’s all I think they could have added. And now, here’s everything I think they should have thought about twice.

CHANGE:

Really? You’re just going to bring Raidou back for the final boss? Really?  Why not use prime Phase 4, that would have been interesting, a final boss who doesn’t WANT to be the final boss? Come on DOA, you’re better than this! You had seven years to make a final boss! If you couldn’t think of one, just go DOA2 and pull something random out! There’s even another tengu you could have used! Who even remembered Raidou at that point?!

LESS. HONOKA. My gosh, she’s annoying! I’m sorry, I’m sure she has fans, but she just irritated me! Not only was she shoehorned into the plot, but she’s also a total Mary Sue! And that voice, AAAAGGGGHHHH! This is not a knock on Kira Buckland, she’s cool and great at her job, but AAAGGGHHHH! With so many three-dimensional and interesting characters, she just falls flat (metaphorically, of course).

Was Nyotengu actually necessary? I get that the tournament itself is just a distraction now, but she honestly bored me.

Why does Helena’s mother need to come back to life? Seriously, what did M.I.S.T. see in reviving one of the mistresses/mothers of their rival? Is this supposed to like torture Helena or something? This was just unnecessary, there was no reason for this. Sorry Maria.

Oh, so Rig’s mind controlled now? Would have been great if they had foreshadowed that in 5. You know, so it wouldn’t have come out of nowhere and helped explain his whole 180 when he was introduced!

Does Jann Lee really need another rival? Just focus on Lei Fang, she’s awesome!

Bit more meta, but did Rig and Christie really need new voice actors? The new ones are fine, but it just seemed unnecessary.

I’m really mixed about how story mode is laid out in modern DOA. On the one hand, putting everyone’s stories in one playthrough really makes it hard to really get attached to one, which I think is a very important aspect of fighting games. On the other, doing it in this style really helps keep the general plot coherent and easier to follow. I think a good way to handle this would be to make different story modes; a campaign to follow the whole vs. Donovan storyline and a different one that has each character’s individual story outside of the main plot.

Alternatively, divide the story between the tournament and the fight against Donovan; ‘cause I don’t think the Mugen Tenshin clan and their allies are going to be in any tournaments anytime soon.

BRING BACK UNLOCKABLE OUTFITS! Outfits may be understandable for DLC, but it’s just so much easier to unlock them all! I’m not made of money!

Even with all these negatives, I still had a great time playing! It was great to see the cast I loved so much (with one in particular) come back and beat the crap out of each other and I can’t wait for the next one!

...In five years.

[princesstadashi]

A Post for Newbie Ren Faire Goers!

So, provided this god awful virus doesn’t shut them all down, it’s about ren faire season, at least for me and probably for some other people! And today at work I had this flashback to when I first started regularly going to faire, and man, was I confused about a lot of things--and I realized that maybe this would be a good time for me to make a post for others who are getting ready to visit their first Ren faire, or who are familiar with Ren faires but might still have questions and want to learn more. If you’re ready, let’s dive into this!

What the heck is a mug strap? It may sound random, and you may have never even heard of a mug strap, but this is actually one of the first questions I had about ren faires because it was something so many people were asking me if I had, so let me explain: It is a piece of leather that has two loops (at least one of which can come open), one loop to go around your belt and the other one (for sure the one that comes open) which can go around the handle of a mug or other drinking vessel for ease of carrying it! Which brings me to my second question:

Why are there so many shops selling wooden mugs (and other similar items?) This is because it is very, very important to stay hydrated at faire, especially when the weather is warm outside! A mug is an easy way to hold your drink of choice, and the mug strap mentioned above means you don’t have to carry it in your hands once you’re finished drinking! At least my local Ren faire has drink stations with water and gatorade for season pass holders, and even if yours doesn’t there are always water fountains! Do you need a mug to attend a Ren faire? Definitely not! But they’re pretty darn useful if you plan to go regularly instead of constantly buying bottled drinks, plus they look pretty cool!

What is “the cast”? The people hired by the Ren faire to play characters, you’ll usually see them walking around in the streets (or “lanes”) and performing in shows and events!

What the heck is “garb”? To put it in very simplified terms, it’s the old-timey clothes or “costumes” that you’ll see people wearing :)

(More below the cut!)

Is garb or any sort of costume necessary? No, absolutely not! Plenty of people go in regular clothes! But it is fun to get dressed up :) And you don’t have to have a full costume straight off--that stuff is expensive, so it’s okay if you need to build it up over time if you want to do that--all that matters is that you’re having fun and getting into the spirit of things! Back to not dressing up: Again, it is totally fine if you want to wear regular street clothes, and a lot of the cast will probably have fun asking about your “outlandish outfit” and any modern devices that you have with you! HOWEVER. I hate that I have to say this, but I do: if you don’t choose to wear garb, don’t be a dick to the people who are wearing it. Usually everyone is very chill, and of course some of the cast members will be wearing costumes that are meant to be very showy. But especially with regards to fellow guests: don’t treat them as part of the “spectacle” or like they’re animals in a zoo: basically just don’t stare, don’t treat them like they’re weird for dressing up no matter their age, and remember that they’re just people wanting to have a good time like you, they just want to look totally badass doing it!

So is it not okay to talk to people about their costumes or to ask them for pictures? Please, as long as you’re being polite, feel free to ask--many people like me feel like the reward of all the work we put into our garb is compliments and people asking for pictures! But use common courtesy: if someone seems uncomfortable with you talking to them, just leave them be. And always ask before taking a picture! You might see some photographers taking candid shots, but most of those people are professionals and have gotten permission to be doing that. General rule of thumb is just treat people like you would want to be treated!

I see a lot of people being very flirty/touchy feely/etc. with each other, am I allowed to do that? So here’s the thing about Ren Faires: especially the cast, we tend to all be very open with each other and let loose a bit in a safe space. And a lot of stuff like that that you’ll be seeing is between people who already know each other and are comfortable with each other, even if we might not be acting like that if we’re in character. Now does that mean no flirting is allowed? Totally not! But just like in any other social setting, use common sense: see if the other person is comfortable with it, and if not respect that and back off. Simple as that. Also please keep especially in mind with the cast that this is a paying job for them so while they have a lot more freedom than a regular customer service job, it is still in a way customer service, so they can’t be super rude to you if you’re making them uncomfortable. But also keep in mind that there is security and no one is afraid to call security on you if you’re being inappropriate with anyone, and they will escort you out.

Is that sword (or other weapon) really sharp? At least in my experience, no--for safety reasons, most weapons are blunted--they’re still heavy so they can absolutely do damage as a bludgeon, but everyone tries to avoid more injuries than necessary. 

Can I hold that sword (or insert any other cool looking prop)? ASK. Dear God, ASK before you touch anything that someone else is carrying! I don’t mean to freak you out, but most of this stuff is VERY expensive and quite possibly damageable, no matter how sturdy it looks! Also if you start fucking around and injure someone else? There could be liability on the owner of the thing you were fucking around with. Some people will be chill about letting you handle their props, but if not, just be polite and thank them for their answer and move on! I’ve seen too many things be damaged/lost that were irreplaceable because people didn’t use common courtesy so I feel very strongly about this!

Do I have to use old fashioned speech? No, but it’s fun! And there are some pretty fun terms that are used to replace modern terms that don’t have a equivalent in the Renaissance! A few of my favorites: “The Book of Faces” = Facebook; “Please God 13″ = PG 13 (usually used to let you know if the content of a show will be slightly more mature); “Master or the Cards”/”Lady Visa”/”New World Express” = various names for common credit and debit cards!

Speaking of credit cards! There are a lot of vendors who take credit cards, but not all of them do, and sometimes reception can be REALLY spotty out in the faire grounds, so I’d say bringing about $40 per person (if you’re planning to eat lunch and dinner there) in cash is always a safe bet. Some faire grounds will have an ATM, but the line can get pretty long, and who really wants to pay ATM fees? Also tipping is how a lot of performers get to keep performing their craft! So having a couple ones to put in the basket at the end of a show if you choose to see a show is always a nice idea!

What about drinking alcohol, is that a thing? Yes, most Ren faires won’t let you bring your own, but most of the faires I’ve been to have plenty for sale! Just another general rule of courtesy: please do not treat this like a frat party, and try to avoid getting completely wasted and being a dick. Believe me. There’s a difference between being buzzed and having a good time and that. I have seen it too many times to count. It isn’t funny. There are usually children around you, and this is a public space. We all see you, and we’re all silently judging you. Please know your limits and drink responsibly!

I’ve worn cosplay before, is that okay to wear to Ren Faires? Cosplay is totally encouraged, especially if it works with the time period and/or it’s a character that is a time traveler! Hell, most of my “garb” is made up of cosplay! But please keep in mind: this is not a convention. There will be very, VERY limited places to sit. There will be very limited cover from the elements. You will most likely be walking on dirt roads with rocks and, if it has rained at all, you may be walking in several inches of mud. And the walk back to the car in the parking lot is a LOT longer than you think. So only wear something that you will be comfortable wearing for eight+ hours without being able to sit down for long/without having to remove parts of, and also something that can stand to get dirty and being out in the elements! (I have seen SO MANY floor length satin dresses that get dragged in the mud and it makes me physically cringe thinking about trying to get those mud stains out!) ALSO. COMFY SHOES. DEAR GOD. Invest in inserts if you can, just wear the comfiest fucking shoes you can find, your feet will thank you later!

Last of all: Don’t be afraid to ask question, and don’t be afraid to join in! Ask the cast and shop owners what the most fun things to do are if you aren’t sure what to do--sometimes they can point you in the way of really fun experiences that you wouldn’t even know about otherwise! If the Ren faire offers maps, definitely worth the investment, they’ll help you keep track of where you are (believe me, it’s super easy to get turned around!) as well as telling you where/when fun events and shows will be! Combining the two: one of my favorite parts of my local faire is Pub Sing, which is listed on the map but I might not have gone to without friends bringing me the first time and I LOVE it now. It’s basically a bunch of us sitting on wooden benches while one of the cast members leads singing of pub songs, and audience participation of new verses to the songs, lymericks, and toasts are fully welcome, and there’s even a big circle dance anyone can participate in and it’s always a great time, I try to never miss a single pub sing if I can help it!

So--yes, this probably got way too long, but hopefully this helps answer any questions that anyone might have had! Please feel free to comment if you have any other questions!

[arinaco]

The story of Pidge or Dark Youth as the main character

Translated and edited by @Nadezhda932 

First warning: Plance

Second warning: before reading this meta, I strongly advise you to read the previous metas about Lance and Pidge. Because I won’t repeat the thoughts expressed there, but I will refer to them.

Not so long ago (at the time of writing), a 200th Let’s Voltron podcast took place, where the voicers gathered together and remembered the glorious past when they voiced the series together. And Bex – the voice of Pidge – remembered Plance and compared it to a wonderful little garden. Naturally, this led to the beginning of the discussion, where we analyzed the characters and their interaction with each other. And the idea came up to try to pull the Pidge storyline on Heroine’s Journey. Well, I mean to try to check whether there are those necessary components in her story that allow us to say that yes, this is the real Heroine’s Journey. And, to my pleasure, I suddenly realized that the story arc of Pidge really suits these requirements, and it’s even more interesting in its nuances than the Journey of Allura. Why? Because Allura has a classic story – a girl must become more confident in herself, go against society, save her prince, defeat the evil queen, etc.. Pidge… her situation is the opposite. And I’ll try to explain why.

I’ll begin by describing how the attempt to “pull” the story into the stages of the journey actually takes place. To do this, you need to determine that the storyline of the character doesn’t consist of separate episodes, but has a single common outline that runs through the series, and find several important components in this outline:

A) The drawback of the main character, preventing her from gaining inner balance and harmony;

B) The lowest point of the Journey. The moment when the heroine realizes this shortcoming and begins her work to fix it.

These two things also make it possible to determine what becomes an imaginary reward for a heroine and what becomes a real reward, and thus we begin to perceive individual scenes with the heroine as a single construct – a story about self-digging, which is the Heroine’s Journey.

And the main drawback of Pidge is not only her egoism, because there are a lot of happy egoists in life. The main disadvantage of Pidge is the zero ability for social interaction that developed as a result of this egoism.

As well as an absolute lack of understanding of what is “criminal liability”.

The Holts adored their daughter with blind love, were proud of her mind and indulged in everything, and thereby served her very evil service, because the parents should not only love their child, they should prepare the child for adulthood and set the right moral compass. And, alas, Pidge has serious problems with this. In the series, she appears as a brilliant teenager, but at the same time lagging behind in social development. Not because she’s mentally ill, but because she grew up in an environment where that metaphorical muscle responsible for social skills simply wasn’t trained.

 Honestly, there are not so many ideal parents in the series. These are the parents of Hunk and Dayak, who performed a miracle, having managed to raise a mentally healthy person in an environment that clearly didn’t contribute to such a development of events. The classical educational school of ancient Daibazaal showed a real master class, and it’s a pity that the main characters cost only an orientation course.

The Pidge’s storyline isn’t the main one in the series, but it’s important enough to make an integral picture of her behavior if desired. You need to understand that social interactions are not just “hello – bye” or “let’s be friends against a common enemy” – I would even say that in such situations, skill isn’t required. The skill of social interaction is necessary in order to join the society where you’re only a drop in the ocean of people, and to learn how to live in it, avoiding conflicts. This is the ability to please, and the ability to circumvent sharp corners in communication… and this all needs to be learned. A person isn’t born with these skills, they learns them in the family and in society, and … by the age of 14, Pidge didn’t possess these skills. She often behaved rudely with others, if not boorishly, completely ignoring the status of these people, and this can no longer be attributed to a simple straightforwardness of character.

You may ask: where did all this come from? It’s easy to imagine.

Pidge had greenhouse conditions at home. Parents loved and understood each other and pampered their beloved daughter. The brother was much older, and Pidge didn’t have to be jealous or fight with him for a favorite toy. In addition, the Holt family was united by a love of science and lived, as they say, on the same wavelength. The absence of conflicts and acute angles in the family is wonderful, but alas, it doesn’t at all contribute to the ability to solve the conflicts and circumvent acute angles.

Another teacher is the surrounding society. The child looks at this society, observes and begins to repeat. The child tries to communicate, with alternating success, and draws certain conclusions from the result. And the problem of Pidge is that all her conclusions boiled down to the fact that “they love me because I’m special and smarter than all of them.” She considered herself the smartest and didn’t strive at all, not only to observe how others communicate, but also to try to adapt herself to other people. She didn’t hesitate to interrupt the teacher and make her incompetent, although at the age of 14 you can already understand that this is simply ill-mannered. Moreover, judging by the behavior in the classroom, it wasn’t the first time she acted in this way, but which is characteristic – none of those present was imbued with respect for her knowledge. Because social interaction doesn’t work unilaterally. You can demand only for submission, respect or acceptance is always a two-way work.

Pidge didn’t even realize that she was doing something wrong. She sincerely shared knowledge…

…but you must also be able to share knowledge, so as not to make yourself an arrogant pride.

And the problem is that the Holts didn’t attach any importance to this. After all, they also believed that “Katie is just a special and brilliant girl, and this civilians aren’t able to understand her because of their earthliness, but when she enters the Garrison …”. She entered the Garrison, so what? Her environment consisted only of extremely condescending and patient people – Hunk and Lance, and she rejected their friendship at the first meeting.

You see these people for the first time and don’t even want to spend a couple of minutes getting to know each other.

School is that litmus test that shows how the child will get along in society, and you can’t turn a blind eye for the fact that your child isn’t accepted in this micro-society. You need to work, you need to try to understand what’s wrong, and keep in mind that the problem can be not only in evil peers, but also in your own child, who is an innocent angel only for you.

Because a person is a social animal, and we have a psychological need for respect and recognition. While Pidge was a child, she was fine with her parents, brother and dog, but now a new adult life is knocking on the door, where she wants something more. She’s already 14 years old, even though psychologically she’s 11-13 years old, but she’s already a teenager. And she has a completely positive example of a motherly figure – successful professionally and in her personal life, and she probably wants the same for herself.

Nothing prevented Colleen from being both a brilliant scientist and a charming woman at the same time.

Moreover: Mrs. Holt has a short haircut, which means that having long hair is a personal desire of Pidge. Yes, she doesn’t get along with other children, but she tries to wear beautiful dresses and looks after her magnificent hair. She doesn’t say it out loud, but she clearly feels the need to be accepted not just as a child, but also as a young woman.

And she feels upset when she can’t get in contact with peers.

And here your parents won’t help you.

Yes, mother can say a hundred times that you’re beautiful, but this is not the same as the approval of your friends and the attention of the boys. And Pidge had problems with this, because she pushed peers away and couldn’t even get respect from them for her intellect and knowledge, which, with different behavior, could earn the approval of the teacher and admiration from other children. Because social skills in society are like traffic rules in a stream of cars. You can be a brilliant driver, but you will still be cursed by others if you turn without turning on the turn signal, or if you don’t miss a pedestrian.

But to solve a problem, you need to know about its existence. You need to understand that it’s here, and you need to solve it. And since her beloved relatives assured that everything was fine, Pidge didn’t realize what was wrong until she faced the real consequences of her actions. And this is exactly what the Heroine’s Journey tells. Moreover, the Journey of the Dark Heroine, because Pidge is the real Dark Youth, traveling in a group of the main characters of the series. 

It’s actually not so difficult to distinguish Dark Youth from Light Youth. You just need to look at what’s the main motive for a person to start a journey. Allura traveled for the desire to become the winner of evil, Lance – for the recognition of loved ones, Pidge… for her selfishness. Yes, because her love for relatives is very selfish, and we can clearly see how she treats the love of her relatives in a consumer way when she easily abandons her mother to regain her “property” – her father and brother.

Look at this poor woman. How she got older, how her hair grew – having lost her children and husband, she even stopped monitoring her appearance. But what does Pidge think about in S7 when they prepare to return to Earth? About how she’ll be punished. She doesn’t think about WHAT her mother experienced during all this time. Sorry, but for some reason I’m not too lazy to call my family at the age of 30 and say that everything is fine. And Pidge isn’t a toddler or even 10 years old to behave in this way.

But if Pidge is Dark Youth, then who is our Light Youth and where is our Animus? And here we get a very interesting point: the fact is that the series forms a whole bunch of heroes, where one character has two Dark Youths at once, and the other has two Light ones.

And these ligaments look like this: Lotor-Allura-Pidge and Allura-Pidge-Lance. Funny huh? A sort of love quadrangle.

In the case of Allura and her Dark Youths, the question arises of contrasting the common good and personal desires. Lotor and Pidge are two opposing sides of personality development that pull Allura like a rope in a competition.

Lotor is not just the Dark Youth of Allura. He’s an allusion to her ideal, to which she aspired. Lotor is not a teenager with personality problems, no, he’s a mature – even old – man. He’s a great diplomat and speaker, he’s polite and ready to compromise with everyone, but he never trusts anyone, because he’s constantly stabbed in the back. He’s ready to sacrifice all desires and affections for the fulfillment of the plan for the salvation of the universe, which he once set for himself. He’s confident in himself, he knows what he’s doing, he calculates everything in advance, but at the same time he improvises very well. An ideal politician and strategist with the most noble intentions. And he’s not a friend of the Alteans, not a commander or a king, but the Holy Savior Lotor. An example to follow, who took the cross upon himself – to atone for the sins of his father – and carried it, pushing aside everything personal for the sake of the greater good. He doesn’t allow himself to be angry at people or become attached to them, because all this can ruin his important mission.

So perfect and lifeless…

This is what Allura’s dream of becoming a ray of light for the universe could turn into. Nothing for yourself – everything for others. A lifeless holy idol who has long forgotten about love and personal wishes. The Alteans with their cult of sacrifice will fully approve it.

And Pidge really turns out to be his complete antipode.

Lotor is old, she’s almost a child. Lotor is polite and eloquent, she’s straightforward and often rude. Lotor doesn’t trust anyone, she completely believes her loved ones. Lotor acts for the common good, Pidge – exclusively for personal purposes. Lotor turned his back on his family, because he considered their actions immoral, Pidge fully and completely supports her family, no matter what happens. They can only be united by confidence in what they’re doing is right, but this is not much in which they agree.

An ancient man who wants to save the universe and a little girl demanding to return her dad.

And this pulls Allura in different directions – the dream of serving others and her own desires. None of it can be put on a pedestal, as the path of Allura is the path to a balance between these two aspirations. In the end, it was for a reason that Lotor reached out to her – the lifeless Saint figure really wanted to feel alive again, to love and trust someone. The savior wanted someone to save him.

Pidge’s parallels appear a little different. They say that all families are equally happy, but each suffers in its own way. And how much Lotor and Pidge differ in the role of Dark Youth, so much in the role of Bright Youth are Lance and Allura alike.

The Red Paladin, which should be Blue, and the Blue Paladin, which should become Red. As brother and sister, they go hand in hand in their insecurity, albeit regarding various aspects of life.

And you know, it's funny when you think that the Blue Lion is the right leg and the Green Lion is the left arm. Indeed, opposites.

I've already written about Lance and Pidge. Here I will say that the question of Lance and Pidge's relationship is a question of selfishness. Lance and Pidge both wanted public acceptance. But if Pidge, in pursuit of her family, abandons the idea of ​​establishing contact with others and achieves her goals through conflict and breaking the rules, then Lance, on the contrary, goes out of his way to achieve what he wants, almost pursuing people in attempts to get attention from them.

Funny contrast: Pidge completely neglects her appearance at the start of her journey, while Lance is the only one on the show who takes the time to look after his appearance even in the middle of a war. Beauty is one of the most affordable ways to gain recognition. And if Pidge refuses even it, then Lance clings to attractiveness with his legs and arms, considering it a measure of a person's level of happiness.

Lance is a very compassionate selfless person, but in pursuit of status, he went against his own nature - he began to consider loved ones from a consumer point of view. And crossing with Pidge on this subject should have made him stop, take a look at himself and what he was doing. Take a look and think about it at last.

On the other hand, Lance is also a subject of interest. This is a childlike innocent affection that Katie developed towards the end of the story. Lance may not be the most attractive man, but he's an open and cheerful person who gave Pidge exactly what she lacked in school - sincere friendship and acceptance with all her flaws. Katie is still quite small in this regard, this is not some kind of serious romantic love, but this is a strong feeling, which over time, over the years, can turn into something more mature.

Having fun with friends is what Katie has dreamed of since school.

He is Pidge's Animus. A person with similar problems, but with the opposite approach to solving them.

It’s interesting that at the beginning of the journey it was Lance who didn’t notice until the last moment that Katie was a girl.

Everything is a little more complicated with Allura: Allura doesn’t appeal primarily to Pidge’s egoism, but to social skills. Yes, the idea of sacrifice is close to Allura as an Altean, and it is opposed to the egoism of the Green Paladin. But the main thing is different: Allura is polite, educated, diplomatic and, in the end, accepted and loved by society as an amazingly beautiful woman. And this is what Pidge would like for herself, without even realizing this need. On the other hand, Allura’s professional skills are forgotten by S8, those around her begin to perceive her only as a pretty alien girl, against the backdrop of the triumph of Pidge, whose ingenious mind is recognized in the professional circle of scientists.

And if Allura in the changed S8 turns into a damsel in distress for a noble knight who will worship her like the Virgin Mary, then Pidge becomes that very caricatured strong and independent woman, only instead of 40 cats she has robots. It’s caricatured, because it’s the image of a woman who declares that she doesn’t need anyone, and then, in longing for human warmth, she turns herself on to a pet in order to sublimate her psychological needs. In the case of Pidge, she builds herself a metal brother. And in ten years she’ll also build a metal lover, why not.

The truth is that a person is happy only when they realize themselves both professionally and personally. There’s a huge number of people who put their lives on the altar of some important mission, but later not so much of them could call themselves happy. On the other hand, there are a lot of women who abandoned their ambitions for the sake of marriage, and then regret it until their death.

So what is it – Pidge’s Heroine Journey? Let’s look at it in stages.

Stage 1 – Separation from the feminine.

Pidge is a teenager of 14 years old. She has problems with her peers, she can’t find a common ground with them, and therefore clings to her family – her cozy mini-world, comfort zone. But here a tragedy occurs: father and brother disappear on an expedition. Pidge finds out that something is unclear in this case, but the father’s authorities refuse to explain the situation, and she decides to find the answers in a not too legal way – secretly, despite all the prohibitions.

Feminine figure and beautifully decorated room…

…all this was left in the past.

This is very symbolic: Pidge leaves her mother alone to experience the tragedy and cuts off her hair – a symbol of her femininity.

Katie is not at all happy to lose her beautiful curls

Stage 2 – Identification with the masculine and gathering of allies

Pidge studies at the Garrison in the company of Hunk and Lance, hiding under the guise of a homely boy. At first she repels them, but since they’re a team, she has to communicate with them. But instead of making friends and learning to communicate, Pidge spends all her efforts looking for information about the family. Meanwhile, she begins to have confidence in Hunk and Lance, finds common interests with them, and gradually these two in her eyes pass from the category of strangers into the category of the ones whom she can even tell her secret.

And when Pidge once again can’t keep her mouth shut…

…it’s Lance who protects her.

Stage 3 – Road of trials, meeting ogres and dragons

Shiro's return and the beginning of their journey. Pidge grabs any lead to find her father and brother, and is even ready to give up everything and everyone for the ghostly opportunity to save the family. On the other hand, one way or another, she begins to become attached to the people around her. True, this attachment is selfish. Pidge worries about the safety of her friends, but she isn't interested in what they grieve and worry about. Her fixation on the family is in stark contrast to the fact that the main leadership backbone of the team - Allura, Shiro, Keith and Koran - are orphans who have no loved ones except for each other and a common cause.

Keith with his desire to save Shiro is certainly disingenuous, but he described Pidge's problem correctly...

Stage 4 – Finding the boon of success

Pidge finds her brother and saves his father. But at what cost? The height of selfishness is to send a person to certain death, without even trying to give him a chance for being rescued. And personally for Pidge, this person is only to blame for the fact that he's not included in the circle of her loved ones - the circle of those whom she considers her "property". But she still gets her way, she saves her family, without any remorse. And then she has fun with friends who have already become family members for her - part of that very micro-world.

And it was during this period that Pidge appeared in the game as the most closed character, fenced off by armor from other people.

And the mess in her room as an indicator that Pidge wasn’t going to invite guests at her place…

Stage 5 – Awakening to feelings of spiritual aridity; death

Homecoming. As people say, be careful of what you wish for. Pidge constantly tried to leave friends and other people behind, in the pursuit of saving the family; as a result, when she returns home, she’s grounded. Now, her circle of loved ones is forcibly composed only of her parents and brother. Moreover, the most annoying thing happens: Lance invites Allura on a date. Lance complained to Hunk for several weeks about being unworthy of Allura, while Hunk listened sympathetically. And there was no one who could interrupt the flow of this whining, because this someone was sitting at home. As a result, Hunk persuades Lance to go out and invite Allura on a date, and she unexpectedly agrees.

And after so many days of isolation, Pidge is free only to find out that Lance is going on a date with Allura. Pidge liked Lance, she even tried to compliment him, although unsuccessfully – and now he sailed away to a beautiful princess, and Pidge could only watch this process.

A scene called “She tried”.

She even helps to arrange this date: to get Allura the dress for which she gives the game – the subject of their common interest with Lance. But that’s where her altruism ends: she doesn’t stand it and decides to follow them, because until the last she hopes that Allura will refuse Lance, but this doesn’t happen.

Yes, Pidge is respected as a scientist, but how much does it mean if the person dear to her, whose attention she values, is now fully devoted to his new girlfriend? You can say as much as you like that they’re a team of paladins, but we know very well that couples are always a little apart, as they feel like spending time together.

And Katie knew perfectly well that now Lance is unlikely to find time to play with her.

Stage 6 – Initiation and Descent to the Goddess

Here’s a difficult moment. The fact is that this moment takes place in S8, in an episode that was originally intended for S7. And I can’t help but wonder if it should have taken place in the earlier version of the script, because according to the logic of the travel, Pidge should have it. This conversation takes place in a dead forest, where Pidge and Allura are left alone at some point, and Pidge, who saw how Allura saved the tree, asks if she can help Olkarion. After this, Katie has to admit that yes – she followed them, and naturally the question of Lance’s feelings will be raised.

Allura is Pidge’s Light Youth. She agreed to a date with Lance out of feeling guilty and out of gratitude for his concern. Her consent is pure sacrifice, altruism. And she admits it while talking to Pidge. That yes, she doesn’t have feelings for him, but he loves her. Remember the first episodes, where Pidge confidently says that a princess in her place would do the same. But now she sees that Allura, on the contrary, is ready to sacrifice the personal for the sake of someone else’s good. And this makes her think, because Lance chose Allura.

Throughout the series, Pidge was not very friendly with the princess. When Allura found out that Pidge was by no means a boy, she was the first to welcome Pidge as a girl, because having only men in her social circle wasn’t very comfortable for a girl. But then Pidge kept in mind only the search for a family and simply didn’t understand that she was offered girlish friendship. But now, in this situation, Katie was the only one to whom Allura entrusted her “female” secret, and the Green Paladin saw her tragedy and in some ways even managed to share it. Pidge saw in her not a rival, but a person who had lost absolutely everything and was ready to sacrifice the little that was left of her.

You know, at the first meeting with the Olkari, Pidge says that she’s very far from nature, she’s closer to technology and robots, to which she doesn’t need to adapt. This can be considered a metaphor for how she pushes living people away from her, how she turns away from a simple human desire to realize herself socially. 

And it is very symbolic that the bottom point of the journey occurs precisely in the middle of the dead Olkarion.

Stage 7 – Urgent yearning to reconnect with the feminine

After talking with Allura, Pidge begins to look at the situation in a new light. She’s still upset that Lance is now devoting all his time to his new girlfriend, but now sees him not as an “escaped property”. Now for her he’s a really unhappy guy deserving of support, not ridicule. She generally begins to reconsider her position towards people, although this is a very slow process.

When they leave to celebrate Clear Day, she leaves her family — which she saved with such zeal — for the sake of helping Lance get a present for Allura. For the sake of the opportunity to stay with a loved one and find a gift for his girlfriend. And she sincerely seeks to please Allura, because she really imbued with sympathy for her. And when Lance tells her how useless he feels, Katie tries to support him, inspire, and somehow help him solve the problem of relations with another girl. And for a spoiled egoist, this is a very serious step towards change.

By the way, did you notice that in Clear Day episode there’s not a single scene of the interaction between Pidge and Lance, although Katie knows from somewhere that Allura asked for a present? It was cut out while editing S8.

What kind of torment would you go for friends?

Unfortunately, I can only assume what the next steps should look like, too much has been cut.

We know that Allura will decide to announce to the paladins that she’s going to save Lotor, and perhaps Pidge will be the second after Lance to support her in this. Maybe she will even play a role in ensuring that the conversation between Allura and Lance takes place.

She will be next to Lance after the return of the prodigal prince and will morally support him. Perhaps they will even play the game as they dreamed in their podcasts. They’re still children who are just entering adulthood, and after everything they have experienced, they must find a place for joy.

In addition, Pidge has guilt before Lotor, and after her selfish behavior it’ll be important that she realize this and apologize. In general, this will be a lesson for her: a lesson in acknowledging her wrong, and a lesson in humility. The beginning of a long journey of working on oneself, which will allow Pidge to finally realize herself not only professionally, but also personally. It’ll allow her to stop repelling the world, accept it, and learn to swim with everyone in a single stream of the river called “life”.

After all, green is the color of life. As well as blue.

[villainshub]

𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖑 (𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖐𝖎 𝕶𝖆𝖎) 𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

                                                           (♥)

                                                                     𝖘𝖋𝖜

→ one of world’s most terrifying villains, Chisaki Kai is driven by his goal in reverting the world to its beginnings and will use everything and anyone to accomplish it. → calculating, collected and cold, Overhaul views the many merely as tools to return humanity to its purest form. with his intelligence, he strategically analyzes both allies and enemies alike to see if they are capable of becoming necessary specimen for his greatest vision. → though very stoic, on the surface, Overhaul is relatively polite. he is well-mannered and respectful, able to create conversation that does not necessarily deviate from the norm. given the other party understands who they are in the company of, he is not the type to lash out or become belligerent for no reason. → while Chisaki has a tolerance for certain individuals -- especially in regards to serving him -- understand that everyone is expendable. he will not hesitate to dispose of anyone should they make a mistake, or if he needs to make a point. there is little hope in attempting to sway him emotionally. his general disgust and disinterest in the plagued hinders one’s ability to form any true, meaningful relationship with him. → his lack of emotion makes him feared by many, and rightfully so.  → incredibly private. should someone attempt to pry as to his work, past, or any further personal information, he will dismiss their attempts with a chillingly cold, but polite, warning: → “Those who pry often meet their wits end.” → one of his most notable traits is his mysophobia. he refuses to breathe the same air of both those around and beneath him. he also refuses to touch anything without his gloves, and even then, he still dislikes touching things that will ruin them. no one is permitted to physically touch him or get too close for paranoia of bacteria and other germs. → because of his mysophobia, Overhaul has an incredibly high standard for those that wish to be associated with him. while he will ultimately view them as expendable, he will appreciate how they are not only hygienic, but willing to present themselves in a professional and appropriate manner. → is very classy. due to his upbringing, he is very familiar with making appearances and dislikes clothing that could possibly attract additional bacteria. Chisaki is almost always seen in a dress shirt, tie, and matching pants, but is not unfamiliar with suits and tuxedos. what one would consider “lounge wear” could easily be interpreted as business casual.  → Chisaki rarely dines with other people, as particular mouth sounds and lack of proper table etiquette make him physically cringe. because of this, he tends to dine by himself. very judgemental of those with a lack of proper table manners. → he never lets people see him without his masks. should someone attempt to remove it, they will be in for a potentially gruesome ending. → Overhaul is an arrogant man, believing he and only he can salvage humanity. no one, in his eyes, can ever hope to match his intelligence, skill, or ascension. those who claim to match his expertise are simply wanting to be on his good side and impress him. not that it matters too much -- he rightfully deserves the praise and won’t be around for too much longer.  → the yakuza leader is nowhere near socially inept, but dislikes being in the company of those lesser than him for extended periods of time.  → enjoys psychologically picking apart an enemy that he finds “interest” in. it feeds his ego the more and more they break. his favourite moments are when they realize he completely outmatches them and quickly kills them. → Chisaki isn’t too much of a show-off in battle, as he prefers to handle things rather quickly. the less movement, the less sweat, the lesser the possibility of getting dirty. → uses an opponent’s emotions to his advantage. he finds it incredibly interesting that others try to relate to him or have him change his ways, but they neither understand nor could hope to be as great. still, will respect a strong opponent that leaves a mark on him. he won’t like that they touched him without his permission, but cannot deny their strength. → loves fragrances but is particular about certain scents. freshness is absolutely necessary, and having a matching fragrance puts his mind at ease.

                                                        𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜

→ is dominant. there are no ifs, ands, or buts.→ this does not mean he can’t be submissive -- as he will be when they please him in certain areas -- but will punish them physically and psychologically for doing it. → “Did I give you permission to get on your knees? Truly, do you take me for a fool?” → “How simple and filthy of a creature you are. So willing and eager.” → prefers when they are completely defenseless and submit to him. confused, frightened expressions truly do a number on him. Chisaki loves to watch as their face contorts because of him and him alone.  → he demands for them to say his name. he needs to hear it. hearing their tone change, their volume increase or decrease, struggling to scream, painful squeaks. all of it. purposefully teases their weakest areas and will painstakingly will stop until they remind themselves who they belong to. → huge on orgasm denial. to see them so hopeless and flustered, so needy for his touch, gives him such a high. will prevent his own just to elongate their euphoria. → has girth. roughly around eight. → loves to see them restricted, whether with his ties, his belts, or handcuffs. will watch them try to position themselves or become embarrassed; either way, he will watch as their body scream for him.  → loves the pleasure, but dislikes how messy it can get. → “Because of you, I am now unclean. How sullied my attire has become... I trust you know the repercussions for this, yes?” → is amazing at performing oral. despises that he has to remove his mask and taste bodily fluids, but once his lust takes over, it is the least of his concerns. Chisaki will bring them to the point of climax with careful use of his tongue and mouth sounds. while he won’t immediately admit it, it makes him incredibly aroused hearing them becoming undone. he will make it known how well or displeasing they taste.  → the moment they climax, he won’t give their body time to recuperate. will overstimulate with his fingers, mouth again, himself, or sex toys.  → is a sado-masochist and very kinky. will only disclose them to someone who is considered “close” to him behind private doors. → enjoys taking them from behind and forcing them to look at themselves being taken by him in the mirror. will command them to repeat his words, demean them, and change his pace depending on if they give him attitude or not.  → will properly care for them afterwards. both parties require to be clean, and he will have someone clean certain areas of the room. → “You belong to me. Never forget your place.”

[haledamage]

The Officer’s Ball

It’s finally finished! at just over 9000 words, this ended up waaaay longer than I expected it to. thanks again to @queen-scribbles, both for the encouragement and for all your lovely posts about Keme and Jorgan that got me back into SW:TOR and led to this fic. It literally wouldn’t exist without you :)

Vesiya Hallis/Aric Jorgan, sometime in early act 2? After Balmorra but before Hoth, but nothing canon is mentioned anyway so it doesn’t matter.

"Captain Hallis." Ves heard General Garza's voice from the comm as she passed through the room and snapped to attention almost automatically. "Good, I'm glad I caught you before you disembarked."

Those were never good words to hear. "Is there a problem, General?"

"For once, no, there isn't. I'm happy to say I'm calling with possible good news for a change." 

Vesiya Hallis had never in her life believed something less than she believed Garza right now, and the general's next words only confirmed her suspicions. "Captain, you may or may not be aware, but there's an annual Officer's Ball being held in about three weeks' time. It's a chance for senators, high-ranking military personnel, and other influential figures of the Republic to socialize outside of work and strengthen the bonds of the Republic's leadership." She was clearly reading from a script or an invitation. "The Senate has asked that Havoc Squad be in attendance this year."

Ves stood in silence for several long moments, staring unflinchingly at the hologram of her commanding officer and waiting for her to say she was just kidding. When that didn’t happen, she said as politely as possible, “With all due respect, sir, don't we have bigger things to worry about than a party?”

“That isn't your decision, Captain,” Garza said, tone sharp, before her posture relaxed just the slightest amount. “Unfortunately, it isn't mine either. I happen to agree with you, but command has made it clear this is not a request.”

“Yes, sir,” Ves said, because there was nothing else she could say. She wasn't going to pick a fight over a party invitation, tempting as it was.

“Good. Oh, and Captain? It's a black tie affair. You may want to invest in a dress. Garza out.”

Vesiya stared at the empty holocomm after Garza ended the call. She stayed until she heard the telltale sound of boots on the durasteel deck of the ship - Dorne’s deliberate footsteps, light but purposeful, coming from the medbay, and Jorgan coming from the armory, his stride faster and determined, but also quieter, still moving like a sniper.

Dammit. They were going to be even less happy about this new development than she was.

-------

“She wants us to what,” Jorgan growled. At the same time, Dorne said, “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Havoc Squad is cordially invited to attend the Officer's Ball,” Ves said with much more enthusiasm than she was actually feeling. "It's in a little more than three weeks, on Coruscant."

"You can't be serious, sir." Jorgan already sounded like he wanted to argue with her about it and was just trying to find the right angle of attack. 

"I wish I wasn't." Vesiya leaned a hip against the wall across from both of them. "Garza made it clear that we don't have a choice in the matter. It's an order, from somewhere above her."

"How far above?" Dorne was clearly trying to find a way out of their unwanted shore leave as well, but where Jorgan got angry, Dorne got calculating. Ves could almost hear the numbers running in her head.

"Far enough that she wouldn't tell me who the orders come from." She held up a hand, forestalling more arguments. "For now, we finish the job we're on. We should be able to finish up our business here in the next few days, and then we would be headed back to Coruscant anyway. We'll just stay a little longer than we originally intended."

"I'd like to go on record as being completely against this, sir."

"You and me both, Jorgan." She clapped a hand on his shoulder. He didn't immediately shrug her off, so she was pretty sure he wasn't as angry as he claimed to be - or at the very least, he wasn't blaming her for it. "But unless we want to refuse a direct order, we're just going to have to deal with it."

"We've refused orders before," he said, quietly enough that it was just meant for her, amusement in his voice.

Ves fought to stay serious, but didn't quite succeed. "Don't encourage me, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

-------

Vesiya hated clothes shopping on Coruscant, especially in the Senate districts. No matter where you went it was always too crowded, the shopkeepers either completely ignored you or wouldn’t leave you alone (depending on how many credits they thought you had), and she always had the distinct feeling she was being watched everywhere she went. It had been years since she'd needed anything that required a trip to the upper level markets, and even then it was usually something for her mother, not herself.

Yet here she was, bright and early in the morning, with her squad's expense card and her medical officer.

Dorne was trying her best not to look like a tourist and not quite succeeding. Her eyes darted between the gleaming storefronts to the affluently dressed shoppers to the distant lights of the Senate tower. Even in their civvies, the two of them stood out like a sore thumb - and not only because Ves was one of the few non-humans out shopping today.

"First time on Coruscant, Elara?"

“Yes, sir. Considering my background,” she said vaguely, since they were very much not in a safe place to be specific, “Command thought it unwise to allow me this close to the heart of the Republic.”

Ves bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something rude about Republic Command. Elara had proved her loyalty in every way a person could; she deserved better than the way she was treated. Only a little of her anger leaked into her words when she said, "Maybe at first, sure, but it's been years."

"I'm sure they thought that level of caution was necessary," Elara said lightly. "I take it this isn't your first time here, then."

Ves allowed her the subject change. “I grew up here. My mother is a senator, my father's a retired admiral, my twin brother is SIS, and I have a little brother who's a Jedi. Or a student Jedi, anyway. I'm not entirely sure how it works.” She probably knew all of that, though. It was all in her file; the only part that was classified was Vitrin’s SIS status, and Elara had high enough clearance to have access to that information. “My whole life has orbited around Coruscant.”

"You don't talk much about your family," Elara said quietly.

Ves shrugged. "I was always worried about being judged by their merits instead of my own. The less I talk about them, the more I get to be seen as 'the Commander of Havoc Squad' instead of 'the Admiral’s Daughter.'"

"I can understand that."

"You know, I thought you might." Dorne was a big deal name in the Empire as much as Hallis was in the Republic. It could be hard to grow under such a big shadow, but they were both doing okay. "So what about you?"

Elara hesitated. "I believe I've told you about my family before."

"You have. I meant where are you from? What's it like?"

"I grew up on Dromund Kaas, the Imperial homeworld." Elara sounded like she was giving a report, clipped and professional, like her homeworld held no emotional significance to her any longer. "It's a forest world, steeped in the history of the Empire all the way to its foundations. As for what it's like… well, that would depend on how much you like rain, sir."

Ves grinned at how serious her friend was. Even when they weren't working, she never seemed to fully relax. "You don't have to 'sir' me, Elara. We're off duty. You can just call me by my name."

"Yes, sir… Vesiya."

She laughed at her friend’s awkwardness. "You call call me 'Hallis' if you're more comfortable being on last-name basis. Works for Jorgan."

"I have always wondered about that," Elara said slowly. "I didn't feel it was my place to ask."

"Well, you have my permission to speak freely."

"You and Lieutenant Jorgan seem close," Elara said immediately, as if she'd been holding back on commenting on it for months.

“I… suppose we are,” Ves said carefully. It was an understatement. She and Jorgan had been through hell together and dragged each other out the other side. There was no one she trusted more in the entire galaxy; not even her twin brother came close. He was her best friend and her biggest rival and lately, possibly something more. There had been a few moments that she could feel a real spark between them, but neither of them were quite ready to cross that line yet.

Of course, she couldn’t tell any of this to Elara. Could she? Ves was fairly sure she was breaking some regulation or other just thinking about Jorgan the way she did, much less speaking any of it out loud.

The look Elara gave her said she wasn’t doing a very good job keeping it to herself anyway. She raised an amused eyebrow and continued, “Then why are the two of you still on a last-name basis? You seem to have no issue calling me by my first name.”

"I'm not entirely sure Jorgan knows my first name," Vesiya said dryly, then sighed. "It's… complicated. When we first met, we… butt heads, a little. A lot. He pushed and I pushed back and we were… not antagonistic, but certainly not friendly." She scratched absent-mindedly at her forearm, at a faded burn scar there. She didn't like to think about Ord Mantell. "His joining Havoc Squad involved a demotion and getting put under the command of a rookie. It took us a while to move past that. At this point, I think we're both just waiting for the other one to take that step first." In more ways than one, I think, she added silently.

"With all due respect, sir--Vesiya, you have to be the two most stubborn people I have ever met." It was impossible to tell if Dorne meant that as a compliment or an insult. Maybe both.

Ves took it as a compliment anyway and grinned, wide and proud. "I know. It must really suck to be our enemy." She laced her arm with Elara's and got them moving again before they got swept up in the crowd. "Come on. I thought we were supposed to be having a girls’ day out. Bonding time. There’s this great little noodle place around the corner here, we should stop in once we’re done shopping."

-------

Vesiya stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn't quite sure what she thought of the woman that stared back.

She wore her hair loose for what must be the first time in years, falling in dark red waves past her shoulders. The sleek, pale orange dress she wore complimented her dark green skin, and it was sleeveless and backless, emphasizing the toned muscles of her arms and shoulders. She felt naked without her assault cannon, but she doubted they'd let her waltz into the party with it; maybe she could say it was her plus one.

She looked great. She also looked like a completely different person. She just wished she knew if she wanted to; maybe that was the point.

She sighed and let it go, leaving her quarters to find the others.

“You ready to go?” Ves asked as she stepped into the bunk room. Elara was nowhere to be seen, but across the room, Jorgan was engaged in a battle against his bowtie, and it seemed to be winning.

She took the opportunity quickly look him over.

Some men carried a tux better than others, just like some carried a full suit of armor better. Aric Jorgan, it seemed, could look effortlessly good in both. It was a simple tux, classic black and perfectly tailored, drawing attention to his broad shoulders. His tie, like Ves’s dress and the detailing on Elara’s, was Havoc orange - they may be mingling in high society, but none of them would let anyone forget who they were. It looked very good against his tawny fur.

She shook herself before she got caught staring. “Problems, Lieutenant?”

"I’d like to meet the person who invented these," Jorgan said, not bothering to conceal his annoyance. Not that he ever did. "I have a few choice words for them."

He looked up at her, and the half-tied tie unraveled as soon as his attention drifted from it. He didn't seem to notice. He glanced over her like she'd just done to him; it took him quite a while before he made it back up to her face, but there was clear appreciation in his eyes that made her feel warm everywhere his gaze touched.

He lingered for a long time at her throat, where she wore the necklace he'd given her, the gift to congratulate her on her promotion to Captain. He looked shocked to see it there. Did he not expect her to wear it? Or was he just surprised she was doing so in public?

"Here, let me." Ves said, when it was clear he wasn't going to be the one to break the silence. She took pity on him, taking the poor tie from his hands before he mangled it further. "Look up."

“I hate these parties,” Jorgan grumbled, but he did as she ordered. “I still don't see what good it does anyone to force us all into a room to make small talk for four hours.”

"It's good publicity. Forces the higher-ups to remember that we're people, not just cannon-fodder." Maybe if she said it enough, she'd start to believe it. "And hey, worst case scenario, we piss them off enough that they send us back to war just to get rid of us."

Jorgan scoffed. "Politics." He tried to look down at what she was doing, but she tilted his head back up out of her way with a finger under his chin. "Where did you learn to tie a bowtie?"

"My dad used to go to the Officer's Ball every year until he retired. I always helped him with his, for as long as I can remember. Even went as his date a few times." She remembered how proud she was, walking into the hall on her dad's arm in a dress made entirely of ruffles. "It was a lot more exciting when I was eleven."

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises," Jorgan murmured.

“You have no idea. There.” He tilted his head back down, watching her as she finished straightening his tie. She fixed his collar, trying to ignore the way her fingertips brushed the back of his neck as she did, then smoothed out his jacket. “You clean up nice, Jorgan.” It was an understatement, but she didn't say it.

“Thanks.” He looked like he was going to say more, but he didn't.

Ves hesitated, reluctant to step away from him. She met Jorgan's firm, serious gaze, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. She could feel the warmth radiating off of him, the calming, steady beat of his heart under her palm, smell the subtle cologne he was wearing. 

One of his hands settled on her arm, just above her elbow. Her fingers tightened slightly on the lapels of his jacket. His eyes never wavered from hers. She'd much rather stay right here than go to the ball. What would he say if she told him that?

Ves took a step back, trying not to let her reluctance show. “We should get going.”

"I'll go tell Dorne we're ready to go," Jorgan said after a brief moment of hesitation. He waited until she nodded before turning to leave, only to turn back after three steps. "Hey, Hallis. You look good."

"Thanks." He only made it another step before she called out to him. "Hey, Jorgan? Save me a dance?"

"Count on it." He nodded and left without another word.

-------

The Officer’s Ball was every bit as elegant and extravagant as one would expect from a party for the Republic's elite. Everything was draped in gold and blue, with warm, faux-natural lighting and bouquets of fresh flowers in the center of every table. The tables were set up around the edges of the room, some with chairs and some tall, made for standing at while drinking and making conversation. Serving droids mingled near the walls, holding trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres and desserts. The center of the floor was left open, for dancing or mingling; there were several couples already sweeping across the dance floor. On the opposite side of the room from the door, a small stage was set up with a band playing something gentle enough that it wouldn’t distract from conversation.

Havoc Squad walked into the hall and every eye in the place turned to watch them. They must have been quite a sight, Jorgan standing tall and confident, expression completely stoic, with a beautiful, powerful woman on each arm.

"Not sure why they’re staring," Ves said quietly as eyes continued to follow them as they found their way through the crowds near the door. She tried to avoid looking at any of them, preferring to keep her attention on her squadmates. "I thought that was a pretty subtle entrance by our standards."

"We’ve had subtler, sir," Elara said in the same hushed tone. She was stunning in a bold red dress with pale orange embroidery at the neck, hem, and wrists. More than one person watched her appreciatively as she walked past, but she didn't so much as glance their way.

"Had louder, too," Jorgan muttered. Several people looked his way, too, but he stared them down until they looked away again. "Maybe we should have brought Fourex. Or Vik. That would have gone over well."

Technically, the invitation had been for all of Havoc Squad (minus Fourex, since he was a droid), but after weighing her options, she'd decided she'd get in more trouble bringing Vik than she would leaving him behind. It had been very easy to convince him to stay home; she'd simply told him it was an order to go with them and he was suddenly and conspicuously absent.

Ves had to cover her mouth to quiet her laughter. "Oh, they’d have kicked us out immediately."

"Probably. Might’ve been worth it."

“It would have absolutely been worth it.”

“Perhaps we should keep that strategy in mind next time we’re invited to one of these,” Elara added dryly. She pulled them toward an empty table, one of the tall standing ones close to the dance floor. It was a good vantage point, close enough to the crowds that they could claim they were being sociable but far enough away that they were really only keeping each others’ company.

A droid approached them immediately with drinks. Ves grabbed a tumbler of what turned out to be Alderaanian brandy; the bottle of it probably cost more than her starship did. "Not bad," she said because she knew it would piss off at least one eavesdropper. "Not my favorite, but not bad."

"What do you prefer, then?" Jorgan asked. He'd somehow managed to snag an actual bottle of beer. Ves was extremely jealous.

“Corellian whiskey. Or beer.” She shrugged. “I'm a pretty simple girl.”

“Good to know.”

She smirked slyly, raising an eyebrow at him. “Why? You planning on buying me a drink?”

Jorgan smirked too, but attempted to hide it by taking a sip from his beer. “Well, I would, but I think all the drinks are free.”

It didn’t escape Vesiya’s notice that for the rest of the night, whenever her drink was empty, a bottle of beer would find its way to the table in front of her. Jorgan never said anything about it, so neither did she.

A lot of people stopped by their table to talk to them, mostly generals and admirals that recognized them or senators that they’d worked with in the past, but also some new faces who just wanted a chance to speak with Havoc Squad. Ves did most of the talking. She didn’t like the way people kept side-eyeing Elara as soon as they heard her accent, and of her and Jorgan, she was the more sociable - if only slightly.

Quite a few people approached the three of them with offers to dance. They refused most of them, though after a few glasses of wine, Elara started to relax a little and allowed a few clearly besotted young senators to pull her out onto the dance floor. Ves begrudgingly accepted an equally begrudging offer from Senator Krasul; it was the longest and most painful five minutes of her life, and her life these days mostly involved being actively shot at.

Jorgan wasn't there when she got back to their table, but Elara was.

“Lieutenant Jorgan went to get us some more drinks, I believe,” she said in response to Vesiya's unspoken question. “Looks like you and Senator Krasul were enjoying yourselves.”

“Oh yeah. We're best friends now,” Ves deadpanned. She leaned her elbows on the table; it dipped a little under her weight. “How long do you think we have to stay before it counts as 'making an appearance'?”

“We've barely been here an hour, sir,” Elara pointed out, but she didn’t hide her amusement. “I was under the impression that you liked dancing.”

“I do. In normal circumstances.”

Elara smiled slightly. “I don't think any of us know what 'normal circumstances' look like anymore.”

“You're probably right.” Ves's eyes wandered over the crowd. There really were a remarkable amount of familiar faces, only a few of which were people she knew through her family. Most of them she'd met on Havoc business.

Maybe Havoc Squad belonged here more than they thought they did.

She spotted Jorgan on the other side of the room. He'd been roped into a conversation that he looked to be having trouble escaping. His expression said he'd already run out of patience but was too smart to say so, so he was stuck there holding two bottles of beer and a glass of wine and nodding at whatever was being said to him. Ves wondered how long he'd been there, and if he needed rescuing. 

"I've heard rumors that very powerful Force sensitives have the ability to hear a person's thoughts as easily as if they were spoken aloud," Elara said suddenly, in a suspiciously casual tone.

Vesiya sighed, bracing herself. "Why are you telling me this, Elara?"

"As far as I am aware, Lieutenant Jorgan possesses little to no Force sensitivity." She nudged Ves a step forward, away from the table, and added slyly, "Which means, Captain, if you wish to dance with him, you are going to have to actually ask."

Ves struggled to find a way to reply to that, but Elara just nudged her again, so she just sucked it up, straightened her spine, and walked across the room toward her XO.

She stepped up next to Jorgan and wrapped a hand around his bicep in a silent gesture of solidarity. He glanced her way and there was visible relief on his face at the sight of her. She smiled at him, but her smile fell away immediately when the person he’d been talking to turned to face her.

She was a short, middle-aged Mirialan woman with bright green eyes and graying dark red hair, her face covered in tattoos celebrating a life full of accomplishments. Her smile brightened and sharpened when she turned to Ves, offering a hand that she had no choice but to shake. “You must be Captain Hallis. Your Lieutenant was just telling me about you. He speaks very highly of you.”

“Does he.” Ves looked back at Jorgan, one eyebrow raised. He just stared back, neither confirming or denying.

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant. She speaks very highly of you too.” The senator said, patting his arm in a motherly fashion before turning her attention back to Ves. “It sounds like you and your squad are very busy defending the Republic, Captain.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Too busy to call your mother and tell her you’d been promoted?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Vesiya…” Senator Uheza Hallis had a way of saying her name that always made Vesiya feel like she was six years old again.

“It’s a very recent development, and I haven’t had access to a secure channel,” Ves said contritely. “I was going to call you tomorrow. Really.”

“Hmm. I’ll be expecting that call first thing, then. Your father will be happy to hear from you.” Her stern expression fell away, revealing a grin that that left no question that she and Ves were related. “I’ve taken enough of your time. Go enjoy the party. Nice to finally meet you, Lieutenant Jorgan.” She plucked the drinks from his hands and walked away toward their table and Elara.

“Ma’am.” Jorgan nodded respectfully. They watched Uheza walk away in silence, then he started walking in the opposite direction, taking the scenic route back to the table. “So your mom’s a senator.”

“I’m afraid so.” Ves kept her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow, keeping apace with him as they walked around the edges of the dance floor.

“That explains why she asked so many questions about you specifically.” He was much more amused by the situation than he should have had any right to be.

She fought the desire to cover her face with her hands. “Should I be concerned about what you said about me?”

“Never,” Jorgan said immediately, utterly sincere. A hint of amusement returned to his voice when he added, “If I were you, I’d be more concerned with what I didn’t tell her.”

“Do you want to dance?” Ves blurted out. They were getting too close to the end of their detour, their table within sight. She didn’t want to miss her chance.

“I thought you’d never ask, sir.”

He diverted their course, leading her toward a less crowded part of the dance floor. He took her hand and led her into a sudden spin, her hair and dress flaring dramatically around her, before he pulled her close, one hand holding hers and the other on her waist.

She tipped her head back and laughed, loud and delighted. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises.”

“You have no idea.”

They danced in companionable silence for a while, trying to keep to themselves and away from the rest of the crowd. Anytime anyone came close, Jorgan’s eyes darted their way as if assessing if they were a threat. Ves tried not to find it endearing.

She slid her hand further up his shoulder, pulling him a bit closer, bringing his attention back to her. “You’re a much better dance partner than Krasul was. Even if you keep looking around like you’re expecting us to be attacked.”

“Might liven the place up a little,” he said sourly, but his eyes finally found their way back to hers.

“Not your scene, Jorgan?”

“You could say that.” His eyes danced over her face, studying her, looking for something. Whatever it was, he must have found it, because he added in a lower, warmer tone, “This part’s not bad.”

A slow smile spread across her face, and Jorgan followed its journey with rapt interest. “Not bad, huh? Considering how much you didn’t want to be here, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” He leaned closer to murmur in her ear, voice such a low rumble she felt it more than heard it. “Every man in this room wishes he was me right now. Dancing with the most beautiful woman at the ball.” His cheek pressed to hers, soft fur brushing her bare skin and that was a tactile memory that would be haunting her dreams now. So was the way his hand slid from her waist to her bare back, fingertips grazing her skin.

Ves had no idea how to respond. Normally, she’d just blow off a comment like that, roll her eyes and change the subject, but normally a comment like that wouldn’t leave her feeling like she had a flock of thrantas in her stomach. It felt different, coming from Jorgan.

She pulled back enough to meet his eyes again. There was a challenge in them, daring her to reply. They’d given up all pretense of dancing. They just stood there on the edge of the dance floor, eyes locked, and the rest of the room fell away. There was no telling how much time passed while they waited for Ves to find her voice again.

“Aric…”

She was interrupted by the sound of blaster fire.

They moved apart in synch, automatically reaching for their guns before remembering they weren’t carrying them. Ves’s cannon and Jorgan’s sniper rifle were safe and useless in the armory on their ship. Thinking quickly, Jorgan grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward a nearby pillar, at least getting them out of line of sight of the door.

Ves pressed her back to the pillar and peeked around the edge of it. Four people in mismatched armor were waving blaster rifles and pistols at the terrified crowd, and more were coming in behind them. She scanned quickly for Elara, but couldn’t see her from here.

A very tall man in dented gray armor stepped forward and called out, voice echoing through the suddenly silent hall. “Everyone remain calm! This is a robbery! As long as everyone behaves, there’s no reason for anyone to get hurt.”

Vesiya glanced over at Jorgan. “You just had to say something, didn’t you?”

He pulled a blaster out of an inner pocket of his jacket. “Sorry, sir. I forgot how much the universe likes irony.”

She shook her head, but couldn’t help but smirk as she pulled her own holdout blaster from where she’d strapped it to her thigh. She glanced around the corner again; the leader was still talking, the rest of them fanning out behind him. “You got any ideas?”

He leaned around the other side of the pillar for a moment, then came back. “I count six at the door and two in the crowd, but they must have more stationed outside. There’s no way they got past security with only eight people.”

“We could have. We could’ve done it with three.”

He smirked, but otherwise didn’t comment. “We’ll have to assume it’s just the two of us. We’ve got no idea where Dorne is and no way to contact her, and we can’t assume anyone else here will be any help.”

Ves didn't feel quite so pessimistic about the situation. There was no way that, in a room full of the Republic's finest, they were the only ones who thought to bring concealed weapons. She didn't say it out loud, though; he'd know what she was thinking. "Two versus eight is still good odds. I’m more worried about civilians caught in the crossfire."

“How’s your night vision, sir?”

"Not as good as yours, I bet, but better than a human’s." She saw where he was going with this. All but one of the attackers were human. She scanned the walls of the room quickly. There had to be a door to the kitchen or a security room or something. "There. Northeast corner."

“On it.”

Jorgan left without another word, moving silently toward the door, staying in cover as much as he could. Ves kept an eye on the enemy, making sure no one spotted him, but he made it to the door unnoticed. He nodded at her, then disappeared through it.

She turned back to the would-be thieves. The leader had stopped talking and was making his way through the crowd, taking jewelry and anything else he dubbed interesting from them. Ves aimed her blaster at a lamp just past the leader’s head; it exploded in a shower of sparks. Several partygoers screamed and backed away. Not quite enough to get a clear shot on anyone, but it was a start.

“Go see what that was.” The boss pointed at one of his henchmen and then in Ves’s vague direction. They hadn’t seen exactly where she was, then. Good.

She picked up a nearby empty plate and tossed it. It clattered to the floor near an adjacent pillar, and the henchman predictably followed the noise. He walked right past her, facing away from her to where he thought the threat was, blaster rifle pointed at empty air. She brought the butt of her blaster down on the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

She took his rifle and checked the cell. It was mostly full. This night just kept getting better and better.

Something touched her shoulder and she turned, blaster raised. Two figures stood there, pressed to the wall, half hidden behind a large sculpture. One was Elara, holding what appeared to be a vibroknife. The other stared at Ves from behind the business end of her new rifle, hands raised in surrender, and he was so unexpected it took several long seconds to recognize him.

“Jonas?”

“Captain! Fancy meeting you here.” Jonas Balkar looked her over and grinned charmingly like she didn’t currently have a blaster pointed at his face. “You look radiant, Ves.”

She rolled her eyes, but she lowered her rifle. “Now’s not the time.”

“You let me know when it is.” He glanced around quickly. She knew what he was looking for even before he asked, “Where’s Jorgan? Elara said he was with you.”

As if on cue, the lights all went out.

“I expect he’ll be back in a minute,” Ves said smugly.

“Good idea.” Her dark vision was good enough that she could see the way Jonas crossed his arms, not pouting but close. “Except now I can’t see anything.”

“Emergency generators will be online in less than two minutes, sir,” Elara said. She wouldn’t be able to see anything either, but she didn’t seem bothered by it. “I assume you have a plan.”

“You assume correctly.” She grabbed them both by the arm and dragged them closer, dropping her voice to a loud whisper. “I need the two of you to get as many civilians out of harm’s way as possible. There’s no way the eight we saw in the building are the only ones in this group, and if this turns into a real fight, I don’t want anyone getting hurt besides the people we want to get hurt.” She pressed her holdout blaster into Balkar’s hand. “Find my mother. She’s in the crowd somewhere, she’ll be able to help you.”

He looked down at the blaster, though with the lights out there’s no way he could see it. “How am I supposed to know which one’s your mother?”

“She looks like me except six inches shorter and twenty-five years older. Look for a Mirialan woman barking orders and chances are good it’s her.”

It was too dark to see the smirk on Balkar’s face, but she heard it in his voice. “So you get your charm from her as well as your looks. Good to know.”

“Jonas.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll behave. For now.” He leaned in to murmur in her ear, almost exactly the same way Jorgan had done only a few minutes ago. “You know, one of these days, we’re going to bump into each other when we’re not in the middle of some life or death situation. And when that day comes, I’m going to finally buy you that drink.”

“We’ll see,” Ves said vaguely. There were no thrantas in her stomach when he touched her, just the scent of his cologne and the sensation of someone standing much too close. She wished she knew how to just tell him that. She pulled away, putting a more comfortable distance between them again. “Let’s deal with the life or death situation first, shall we?”

She felt a presence at her shoulder and didn't need to look to know it was Jorgan. He confirmed it a moment later when he said, “Balkar? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Enjoying Coruscant's vibrant nightlife,” Jonas said easily. “I'll never turn down a chance to wear a tuxedo and eat free food.”

The emergency lights finally turned on, lighting the room in lurid red. “That's our cue. Go.”

Elara left with a simple “yes, sir,” dragging Balkar along with her.

Ves turned to Jorgan. “They're going to try and clear out noncombatants, give us a cleaner playing field. You and I get to do the fun part.” She took the pistol from his hand and gave him the rifle instead.

“Aww, thanks, boss,” he said, deadpan. “I didn't get you anything.” Despite the sarcasm, he looked more comfortable with a rifle in his hands, and they both knew he was the better shot.

She looked around her pillar again. It was hard to see much in the dull red light, but she could only see four by the door now. With one on the floor unconscious, that left at least three currently unaccounted for. It looked like they had finished their looting, there were two large sacks filled with jewelry and credits by the doors. Why hadn’t they left yet?

“Something about this doesn’t make sense,” Jorgan said by her ear. He stood behind her, peering out around the pillar as well and following where she was looking. “Some of the most decorated heroes of the Republic are here tonight. Why break into a party like this just to steal some jewelry?”

She picked up on what he wasn’t saying. “You think they’re meant to be a distraction? From what?”

“I wish I knew, sir.”

She pressed her back against the pillar once more, thinking out loud. “If they were after violence, it would have already happened. If they were just here for the money, they would have already left.” A sudden idea struck her. She put a hand on Jorgan’s arm and leaned closer, adding in a harsh whisper, “How much classified information do you think is in this room right now? How many high-profile targets walking around unarmed and unarmored?”

“Enough that the Empire would consider hiring mercenaries to collect a few of them,” he replied grimly. “Then why haven’t they?” He paused, then answered his own question. “Because they don’t know who their targets are.”

“They’re after the guest list, then. A list of names and faces of the Republic’s best and brightest.” The red lights were starting to give Ves a headache, but she pushed through it, trying to think. “What was through the door?”

“The kitchen. I didn’t find a security room. Had to slice the lights through the control panel outside.”

“Okay. I’m on it.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, steadying herself. “Remind them who they’re messing with. Make them regret crashing our party.”

“Yes, sir.” He caught her elbow before she could leave. “Be careful, Hallis.”

“You too.” She nodded, then slipped out of his grasp.

It was hard to sneak in three-inch heels, but Ves did the best she could. The sudden burst of blaster fire behind her made it a little easier. There were more shots from farther in the room. She had to hope it was Balkar’s holdout blaster backing Jorgan up. She didn’t turn around to check.

The kitchen was empty of organic life, only a few serving droids standing about looking nervous. One of them called out to her as she passed through, but made no move to stop her. “I am sorry, ma’am, but only authorized personnel are allowed past the kitchens.”

“I understand that. I’m Captain Vesiya Hallis, Havoc Squad. If there’s a problem, take it up with my commanding officer.” She didn’t wait for him to answer, just kept going.

The hallways past the kitchen were empty and identical. She followed until she came to a fork, and with no indicators on where they led, she followed her instincts and turned right. It kept going for what felt like hours, only the clicking of her heels on the tile floor to keep her company, and the doubt started to creep in. She hoped things were going okay out in the main hall. She hated not being able to contact her squad. If they ever got invited to another party like this, their closed-circuit comms were not staying on the ship. Neither was her assault cannon; if she had to put it in the coat check room, so be it, but she wasn’t going anywhere without it for a while.

She turned a corner and had to dive back behind it as a blaster bolt flew past her head. So she’d been going the right way after all. She peeked slowly around the edge, keeping as much of herself behind the wall as possible. There were two people at the end of the hall and she recognized them both from the initial group.

Another volley of bolts flew past her. One caught her in the arm before she could get back behind the wall, searing a hot line across her skin. She swore and returned fire, but they both ducked back into cover again too.

Ves thought quickly. This stalemate wasn’t going to help anyone but her enemies; they were clearly guarding whoever was actually doing the work, and the longer they kept her here the more time they had to finish the job. “Elara had the right idea,” she muttered to herself as she quickly unstrapped her shoes and took them off. “I should’ve brought a knife.”

She ducked low and sprinted around the corner, bolts flying over her head. She hit the first guy low, shoving him against the wall with her shoulder in his gut, and turned to throw her shoes in the face of the second guy, throwing off his aim. Two bolts to the chest took care of him, and a solid left hook to the jaw took care of the first guy, though it shot pain down her injured arm.

She took their weapons, putting the new pistol in the holster on her thigh and throwing the rifle strap over her shoulder, keeping the pistol she’d borrowed from Jorgan in her hand. Then she continued on to the door just past them that she assumed led to the security room.

Inside the room were four dead security guards and the man who’d been leading the assault on the main hall. He was tall and broad, with meticulously groom black hair, and he hadn’t shaved for long enough that it was on the cusp of becoming a beard but wasn’t quite there yet. He reached for his blaster, but he was too slow. Ves pointed both Jorgan’s pistol and her stolen rifle at him, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“You picked the wrong party to crash, pal.”

“So I see,” he said, and he had an Imperial accent he hadn’t had at the door. “And you are?”

She just bared her teeth at him. “What are you after?”

He smiled, seemingly unthreatened by her or her arsenal, and didn’t reply.

She put the barrel of her blaster pistol against his forehead. She asked again, voice pitched low and dangerous, “What. Are. You. After?”

“Pull the trigger, soldier. You’ll get more answers from my corpse.”

Ves swung the butt of her blaster down at his face, but he was heartier than his henchmen and remained conscious. She took a bit of dark satisfaction at the crack of cartilage as his nose broke, but didn’t have the chance to enjoy it as he roared and lunged at her, shoving her against the wall.

He slammed her wrist against the duracrete wall and her blaster fell from her numb fingers to clatter to the floor. One large hand wrapped around her throat, hard enough that she worried he’d crush her trachea long before she had to worry about running out of air. She clawed at his arm, but all he did was tighten his grip, enough that she started to see stars.

She brought her knee up into his solar plexus, then jabbed her fingers into his armpit where she knew his armor wouldn’t protect him. He grunted and loosened his hand just enough that she stopped seeing static at the edges of her vision. She took the opportunity to grab one of his fingers and twist it back until it popped. He screamed and dropped her.

She stepped around him and threw herself at his back as hard as she could, pushing him into the wall. His head hit the duracrete and this time he finally passed out.

Ves took a few deep breaths. They burned on the way down. She was going to have a hideous bruise around her throat tomorrow.

She searched the security guards and luckily one of them had a set of restraints on him. Another one had a keycard. She put the restraints on her new mysterious Imperial friend and threw him in the corner. If he woke up before she got back, at least he wasn’t going anywhere. Just to be sure, she locked the door behind her. She slipped the keycard into her bra, the only place she had to put it, then picked up her blaster again and continued down the hall.

Just before the third corner, she heard rapid footsteps headed her way, too fast for her to get into cover. She raised her rifle and rounded the corner to face them head-on. She came face to barrel with a blaster aimed right between her eyes.

“Hallis.” The blaster disappeared immediately, revealing her XO. He looked as relieved to see her as she felt to see him.

“Jorgan.” She could have hugged him right then if she’d had the energy. As it was, she just sagged against the wall, letting it hold her up so she didn’t have to. “Nice of you to join me.”

“Sorry I’m late.” He noticed the wound on her arm and gave her a quick once-over, looking for more injuries. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine. You should see the other guy.” She gestured vaguely back toward the security room. “Got him tied up and unconscious. Maybe someone else can get more out of him than I did.”

“You leave that to me.” Uheza stepped out from behind Jorgan, a rifle in hand and an expression of cold, silent fury on her face. “Agent Balkar, come with me, please.”

Ves gave them the keycard so they could get into the security room, ignoring the looks both Jonas and Jorgan gave her when she pulled it out. Her mother just nodded and left.

Once they were gone, her head fell back against the wall and she closed her eyes. With the fighting over, the adrenaline was fading, and in its place came the pain and exhaustion. “You think the bar’s still open? I could really use a drink.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jorgan said softly. His fingers grazed her throat, an unexpected, feather-light caress, tracing the bruises that had already started to bloom there. Her eyes shot open again. “A few of the officers jumped in to help as soon as they saw us start to fight back. Dorne’s patching up some that got injured in the fighting, but I can go get her.”

She covered his hand with hers and pushed him gently away. “I’ll be okay. I can wait until we get back to the ship. I’m just tired.”

“I can see that.” He didn’t look like he believed her in the slightest. “At least let me take care of the one on your arm. Sir.”

That was a fair concession. Ves nodded, and he took off his bowtie to wrap it around the bolt wound on her bicep that was still lazily seeping blood. She chuckled. “After all that work I went through getting you in that in the first place. Seems like a waste of a good tie.”

“I’ll get a new one.” He glanced at her face for just a moment before his attention turned back to her injury. “Did you lose your shoes? I remember you being taller.”

“I think I threw them at someone. They’re down the hall, somewhere.” She tried to wave in that direction, but Jorgan tightened his grip on her arm to finish bandaging it. She watched him as he worked, his face serious, a knot in his brow that said he was still concerned about her even if he didn’t say it. The temptation to reach over and smooth away that worry was almost overwhelming; she kept talking in an effort to keep it at bay. “Sorry we didn’t get to finish our dance.”

“I guess you’ll just have to owe me one.” He took off his tux jacket and draped it over her shoulders. With the collar up, it hid the worst of the bruise on her neck.

Ves pulled it tighter around herself and gave him a tired smirk. “Are you going to keep giving me pieces of your suit if I find more imps to fight? Because that’s the kind of incentive program I can get behind.”

“Sorry, Hallis, not on the first date. I’m not that kind of guy.” If this counted as a date, Ves was pretty sure it wasn’t their first. She could think of at least one shoot-out in a cantina that should count, too. Jorgan’s smirk told her he was thinking the same thing. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. Several people approached Ves, as well as Jorgan and Elara who stayed at her sides like an honor guard, to thank them for their intervention. The Coruscant Security Force showed up before long and started asking questions. Ves answered the questions to the best of her ability, but after the third officer came around asking the exact same things the previous two had, she started to get a little short in her replies.

“That’s enough,” a stern, commanding voice cut in when the fourth SecForce officer started her round of questioning. Uheza stepped in between the officer and her daughter. “The captain has answered enough questions tonight. Havoc Squad are heroes. They’ve saved a lot of lives tonight and have earned some rest.”

The officer looked like she wanted to argue, but was smart enough not to mouth off to a senator. She walked away with one last disgruntled glance toward the three of them.

Uheza then turned to face them. “Is this what it’s always like for you?”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am,” Jorgan answered so Ves didn’t have to. “This was supposed to be our night off.”

“No wonder your squad has the reputation it does,” she said proudly. “I’ll see to it you’re all rewarded for what you’ve done here tonight.”

“That will not be necessary, Senator Hallis.” This time it was Elara who spoke up. She still managed to look flawless and elegant even after the night they’d had. “We simply did what anyone else would have done in our position.”

“Be that as it may, Sergeant Dorne,” Uheza said patiently, “you at least deserve some recognition. If not from Command or the Senate as a whole, then from me and the others you saved.” She turned her attention once more to her daughter. “Your Agent Balkar has taken the leader into custody--”

“Jonas isn’t one of mine,” Ves interrupted, almost automatically.

Uheza gave her a pointed look, but kept talking like she hadn’t said anything. “--and I expect he’ll have some answers for us in the morning about the reason behind this attack. I’ll contact you as soon as I hear something.”

Ves nodded. “We’re docked in the spaceport. You can stop by if you want, I’ll give you the tour.”

“I’d like that.” She gave Ves a gentle hug and whispered fiercely, “I’m proud of you, firecracker.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Uheza pulled away, expression firm and commanding once more. “Lieutenant Jorgan, Sergeant Dorne, please get my daughter home before she keels over. I think she’s seen enough action for one day. There’s a speeder waiting for you outside that will take you back to your ship.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

-------

Surprisingly, Tanno Vik was waiting for them when they got back, sitting at their small table and cleaning his blaster. He looked Ves over, taking in her lack of shoes, her injuries, and her new arsenal. “Fun party?”

“Unlimited free drinks and an attack by Imperial mercenaries,” she said as blandly as possible, like they were discussing the weather.

He chuckled. “That’ll teach me not to stay home next time.”

Elara made Ves sit down so she could properly treat her wounds. She couldn’t do much for the bruise, which looked almost black in the harsh lighting of the medbay, but she put a proper kolto patch on the shot on her arm, and wrapped her wrist as well, which turned out to be fractured. Ves hadn’t even noticed with everything else that had happened.

Elara gave Jorgan a cursory inspection as well, but scans didn’t find any injuries on him, so she just told them to get some rest and left to do the same.

That sounded like a good idea. It had been a long night. Ves had no idea how late it even was.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t the way I expected the night to go,” Jorgan said, leaning casually against the doorway to her quarters.

She smiled at him and imitated his posture, leaning next to him. “Admit it, Jorgan. You had fun.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “It wasn't as bad as I expected it to be.”

“Good, because after what happened you know they're going to invite us back next year.”

“I can live with that,” he said seriously.

“Really?” She hadn’t expected him to say that, though thinking about it she guessed she shouldn’t really be surprised. Though he’d never admit it, Jorgan liked to play the hero. “What changed?”

He smirked. “I suppose there's worse ways to spend an evening than drinking free beer, dancing with pretty girls, and thwarting an Imperial assault,” he said slyly.

“Oh, I get second place, do I?” Ves asked playfully, leaning a little closer. “Aren't you a sweet-talker.”

“It's hard to beat an open bar on the Senate's dime. You came close.”

“I'll have to try harder next time.”

“I look forward to it.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He looked away, breaking their stare, and the charge in the air around them broke too. “We should get some sleep.”

“Probably. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.” She took a reluctant step back, pulling herself out of his orbit. “Good night, Jorgan.”

“Good night, Hallis.”

Ves watched him walk away, smiling to herself, until he disappeared into the crew quarters. Only then did she turn and head into her own room. She barely got out of the dress before she threw herself into bed. She was out almost immediately.

[homeforchristmas-au]

Character bios pt 2!!

Decided to continue the bios for the rest of the fam squad, the full extended family!! Might change things around a bit, we’ll see!!! Here’s part one in case you missed it :3

Emile Sanders (formerly Picani):

Age: 46

Pronouns: he/him/they/them

Height: 6’1”

Curly medium golden mahogany brown hair and sky blue eyes, subtly tanned skin covered in freckles, red framed rounded glasses, likes dressing like a cartoon character or just wearing cartoon merch (his prized possession is his Mabel pines jumper) but wears a brown cardigan over a white button down shirt with a pink necktie when he goes to work

A big goofball that has a lot of love to give, but he still knows when to be more subdued and calm and when to activate “serious picani”. He’s always loved helping people work through their issues which is why he’s a therapist

Like patton, he’s excellent at reading emotions, though he’s a bit better at it since he’s a professional

Has ADHD, but has developed the necessary coping skills to help keep his symptoms under control

Has two siblings; Catarina (Patton’s mother) and Leonard (Patton’s other uncle). Emile is the baby of the family while Leonard is the oldest

Emile met Thomas when they were both in college. They shared an ASL class and quickly began getting along, and frequently practiced sign language together and feelings developed from there

It was quite some time before they got married, but it was well worth the wait

Thomas Sanders:

Age: 43

Pronouns: he/him

Height: 5’10”

The standard character Thomas look; floppy medium brown hair, chestnut eyes, fair skinned, wears the same three shirts periodically for five years until he buys three new shirts, the usual stuff

He’s a sweet, down to earth guy. Loves cartoons almost as much as Emile does, has a passion for pizza, theatre, and the cats of the world he’ll never be able to pet without dying. He can be impulsive at times, but his heightened anxiety oftentimes outweighs that

Has three brothers named Christian, Patrick, and Shea, but I won’t describe them in depth cos I don’t wanna get any facts wrong since this is based on Thomas himself oop-

I’m literally just describing the canon character Thomas except slightly older im-

There’s like nothing else to add to make this fun and unique it’s just character Thomas welp

Thomas and Emile’s kids:

Anton Sanders:

Age: 16

Pronouns: any/all

Height: idk uh ??? 5’7” ???

Medium length wavy black hair, electric blue eyes, fair skinned with a beauty mark on his right cheek beneath his eye, usually wears fashionable clothes and declares himself an eleven, often wears scarves and turtlenecks (almost exclusively black) as well as his round mirrored sunglasses

Can and will kill you with a single look. Especially if you mess with his family. He’ll never admit it but he loves them with everything he’s got, even if he never acts like it for even a moment

Especially adores Remy and respects that they’re discovering themself and exploring new possibilities. He knows from experience how tough that is and how much of a challenge it can be

Was adopted at age three after his parents were busted for child abuse and heavy drug addiction. It took quite some time for him to come out of his shell but Emile and Thomas were nothing but patient and loving and kind. He still has a lot of trust issues but he knows he can trust his family

Will never admit it now but became insanely jealous when remy was adopted into the family. He did not want a brother because he knew that meant he was being replaced and he wasn’t loved anymore

Eventually Thomas and Emile sat him down and they all talked through it and assured Anton that he was still loved and he was not being replaced

It still took a very long time for Anton to trust Remy, even if he was only a baby

His heart was won over when Remy said his first word to him

All he said was “no” but Anton admired his defiant spirit

also yes this is the Critic how did u know

Remy Sanders:

Age: 12 (birthday January 16)

Pronouns: he/him/they/them/it/its

Height: damnit how tall are 12 year olds

Shoulder length hair dyed dark purple at the roots that fades into magenta at the ends (hair colour changes periodically depending on what it feels like having), chocolate brown eyes, fairly dark skinned but not heavily so, gender expression changes at the drop of a hat but it often wears leather, skirts, beanies, and a heck ton of earrings (when it turns eighteen it starts getting a lot of different piercings like angel bites, nostril, and industrial piercings, etc) (that’s worth noting)

Almost always sarcastic but that’s its way of showing love really. It’s a helluva punk that can and will fight anyone to the death if they deserve it (or if they hurt someone Remy likes). It’s actually a huge nerd but doesnt usually show that side of itself. It loves reading, watching shows like doctor who, and doing puzzles with Logan

Was diagnosed with adhd after Emile noticed it experienced similar symptoms for quite a while

Was adopted by Thomas and Emile when it was a baby (and Anton was four), having been found by Emile when it was left in a box in an alleyway, which was a long and complicated process but one hundred percent worth it

It has a trio of male rats named Holmes, Watson, and Splinter. Thomas was a bit reluctant to let it adopt rats but they all went to a rat breeder and when Thomas saw them all and even held one he realised it wasn’t so bad and they were actually kinda cute

When it was nine years old, it nearly died in a nasty hit and run. A truck had swerved into it when it was by the side of the road. It was fine after a lengthy recovery except it had to use a wheelchair after some spinal cord damage left it immobilised from the waist down. The driver was never identified

It probably wasn’t a coincidence that this event occurred not long after remy started talking about how much it loved boys just as much as it loved girls, but that teas a bit too hot for this post

Logan’s sisters:

Ellen Adams-Waterson:

Age: 26

Pronouns: she/her

Height: 5’6”

Light auburn hair going just barely past the shoulders, honey eyes, fair skinned though mildly tanned, covered from head to toe with freckles, red framed rectangular glasses, usually wears clothes for comfort and especially likes turtlenecks

She’s a determined, steadfast kinda gal who fights for whats right and gives everything she has for her loved ones, especially her immediate family. Although she can be pretty blunt with her words she’s also kindhearted and wants whats best for everyone

She’s an avid writer, and has actually published a novel. She also dabbles in fanfiction and is unashamed about it

She’s married to a wonderful wife named Elizabeth and they have a daughter named Kaylee (15)

She’s also been trying to quit smoking but so far that has yielded no results

Ashley Fletcher (formerly Adams):

Age: 24

Pronouns: she/her

Height: 5’10”

Long light ash brown hair that reaches her tailbone that she keeps parted to the right, electric blue eyes, fair skinned and a face full of freckles, black rectangular glasses, tries to be fashion forward but mostly just wears T-shirts and denim jackets

She’s a trans woman and has been transitioning for a few years now with lots of support from her family. She’s a nice person but let’s people walk all over her a bit. She doesn’t like confrontation much because of her anxiety disorder, but she’s trying to get better with that

Loves acting and wants to pursue it as a career, but her anxiety makes it difficult to put herself out there

Married to a trans man named warren and they have a son named jack (11) and a daughter named Emma (6)

She met warren at a pride event with Logan and Patton, and it was actually Patton who met him first (although at the time he went by a different name and didnt know he was trans yet) and then introduced him to the others

They actually talked about adopting a child long before even considering marriage. Although they realised it would look better to adoption agencies if they were married, and that was the main reason they even went through all of that

Renae Adams:

Age: 21

Pronouns: she/her/he/him

Height: 6’8”

Short wavy hair dyed bright pink, amber eyes, fair skinned, a black *dabs* styling pair of Warby Parker’s, often wears high neck shirts and suit jackets, basically always business casual because she can, and loves wearing hoop earrings

There are two sides to Renae; either stone cold businessperson or happy go lucky memelord with a heart of gold. She’s a lot like Logan in that regard, although it’s harder to predict what side of her you’ll see at any given moment. She can either be a super soft bean or the scariest person on the planet

Has been dealing with OCD her whole life, and sometimes it gets particularly bad (especially the intrusive thoughts) but she has a therapist and psychiatrist she sees somewhat regularly

She runs her own coffee shop called Real Bean Café and it does fairly well. She’s always thinking about how she can improve her business

She’s aroace so she isn’t in a romantic relationship but she is in a queerplatonic relationship with a beautiful enby named Pigeon

They actually met in her coffeeshop. Renae saw Pigeon’s Attack on Titan T-shirt and was immediately compelled to talk to them

And that is it for part two of the character bios!!! Might make another post talking about Logan’s sisters’ kids and partners but idk we’ll see 👀

I just really like character designs man lmao

Lemme know if I need to tag anything else my brain box isn’t generating the required tags rn lmao