#experienced online data

[toptrendingforexbrokers]

6 Best Online Brokers for Day Trading of September 2024

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Conclusion

Choosing the right online broker is essential for day trading success. As of September 2024, Capitalix, TradeEu, FX Road, Trade EU Global, and CapPlace are among the best brokers offering a range of features and benefits tailored to meet the diverse needs of traders. By selecting a broker that aligns with your trading goals and preferences, you can enhance your trading experience and achieve better outcomes

[clamorybus]

granted i grew up in a fairly large family (the kind where it seems like every year someone had a new baby lol) so i have a lot of experience taking care of them, but ive never understood the vitriol against kids

not wanting to be a parent, i totally understand. hating messes and screaming i get; pretty much everyone hates those. but pure hatred i do not get

[herkonular]

MALDİVESBET - GOLD

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[vigilskeep]

back and even bulkier with another powerpoint! i opted for spreading the information out in a hopefully engaging way over limiting the number of slides. the circle is a BIG, big topic, with such focus over the course of the games, so if i didn't cover anything useful, you want to know anything more specific, or equally if i made a mistake and missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know ily!!

transcript below the cut! my eternal thanks to @bisexualcommandershepard for providing one for the previous powerpoint and in doing so reminding me to get my act together, you have my sword

zevsurana’s guide to the circle of magi

can’t tell your circles from your chantries from your colleges from your conclaves? boy, do i have the powerpoint for you!

hit me with the basics

under the law of the orlesian chantry, every mage is required to join the circle

a mage who does not join the circle, or escapes one, is labelled an apostate, a crime punishable by death or tranquillity

tranquillity is the process by which mages are branded on the forehead, robbing them of their emotions and magic

at the end of their apprenticeship, each mage is taken without warning to their harrowing. they must choose between being sent into the fade for a dangerous test against possession, or tranquillity.

it is illegal to make harrowed mages tranquil, but they are still required to live under the circle’s supervision

depending on which text you believe, there are 14 or 15 circles under orlais’ chantry.

[this slide is accompanied by an image of a map of thedas. there are small markers spread across the map on 12 locations, mostly in orlais and the free marches, but included everywhere except tevinter and seheron.]

these are the known locations!

i didn’t include starkhaven’s, which was destroyed in a fire at the start of da2, or jainen’s, which is mentioned in an online game but as another circle in ferelden makes the dao plot make no sense. i suppose that would have gotten us up to 14 but i’m not doing it. cope

hierarchy of the circle

there are six ranks:

the grand enchanter is the mages’ direct representative to the divine. in our time, this is grand enchanter fiona, who famously stated “fuck the divine”

the first enchanter leads each circle. theoretically, their permission is needed for a mage to leave the tower, for a harrowing, and for a mage to be made tranquil. in practice, their actual power depends hugely on their political skill and their corresponding knight-commander

the senior enchanters are the most experienced mages in a circle, and advise the first enchanter, who will select one of them as their successor

those who have gained the rank of enchanter (also known as junior enchanters) are now expected to mentor apprentices

the simple rank of mage designates those who have passed their harrowing. an inhabitant of the circle fully capable of magic might say “i’m not a mage, just an apprentice”

the apprentices are children and young adults who have not yet completed their harrowing

outside of this hierarchy are the tranquil. they instead belong to the ‘formari’, who perform enchantment and sell enchanted items to produce the circle’s wealth

(it’s really important to me that you know the different ranks usually have different coloured robes to mark them out. i can’t explain that all here because it varies from circle to circle and we don’t have all the data but i think that’s so fun that i have to point it out even though it makes this slide super crowded i hate it i’m sorry)

politics of the circle: what are those first enchanters even doing?

an ideal first enchanter should govern their circle as a quasi-parental figure who can protect their mages while maintaining an uneasy balance and accord with the templars

they are also an administrator managing their circle’s finances

a weak or unskilled first enchanter can spell doom for their circle just as much as one at odds with their knight-commander

the college of magi is a council of all first enchanters

the college regularly meets in cumberland, nevarra, to discuss circle policy and elect the grand enchanter from among them

politics of the circle: what’s this about frat boys?

once a mage achieves the rank of enchanter, they may join a political fraternity

choose your fighter:

the largest fraternity, the aequitarians, are centrists

the loyalists are chantry bootlickers

the libertarians seek greater power and independence for the circle. the resolutionists are an even more radical group that emerged from them

the isolationists wish mages to withdraw from society completely

the lucrosians prioritise the accumulation of wealth and influence

the aequitarians maintained an alliance with the loyalists until the final vote to rebel, when wynne’s son rhys, asked to represent the aequitarians by first enchanter irving, voted with the libertarians

that was a lot of politics.

let’s take a breather because we haven’t even gotten to history yet oh boy

[this slide is accompanied by two pieces of dragon age concept art of white-haired mage women casting spells. one is an older human white woman who may be wynne, dressed in ornate robes and casting purple magic with a casually imperious gesture. the other is the concept art for warden surana, an angry-looking young elven white woman with a palm full of icy magic.]

hot circle mage concept art break. of course you have white hair and [caps lock begins] one thousand points lightning damage-- [caps lock ends]

but where do circles come from, i hear you cry

well, when two semi-circles love each other very much,

the year is 1:20 divine, and our questionable hero is kordillus drakon…

the circles had existed long before this, of course, in a very different form: elite tevinter academic societies

but right now, the south is in chaos. the first inquisition’s reign is coming to a close. the second blight is fifteen years underway with no sign of stopping any time soon, and will rage until 1:95 divine

kordillus drakon, the very first emperor of orlais, has a budding empire and a budding chantry that look like they might die in the cradle… unless he can continue enlisting mages against the darkspawn

we may wish to take a moment to register that kordillus drakon apparently looked like this. Sure.

[this slide is accompanied by concept art of kordillus drakon. he is blond white man in vaguely iron age dress, with an interesting hair cut including bangs, a high half ponytail and a very large moustache. he wears a swamp-green cloak and a black fur pelt over a green and white striped tunic, with a hand-axe slung through his belt, and crossed garters over whatever combination boots and pants he's wearing, which seems to be one singular garment.]

the solution to drakon's problem?

the nevarran accord

“what do video game enjoyers love? fantasy historical treaties? yeah, probably” – bioware, constantly

and they’re right unless you’re a joyless hater

the nevarran accord was agreed between the newly formed chantry and the original inquisition in 1:20 divine

the people of the south feared magic, but they also wanted to be able to use its power against great threats like the darkspawn

in one move, the circle of magi, the seekers of truth, and the templar order were created

some mages considered the circle a refuge in a world full of terror. to others, it was a prison

but this is dragon age, so maker forbid we would only be told one version of events

there is also a codex entry called ‘history of the circle’

it describes the mages of the divine age as chafing under being allowed to do little more than light candles and lamps for the chantry… as if there wasn’t a fucking blight going on

in protest, mages snuffed out the eternal flame in the grand cathedral at val royeaux, and barricaded themselves in the choir loft. divine ambrosia ii attempted to call an exalted march on her own cathedral, but even her templars discouraged her

shouted negotiations were conducted for 21 days before the mages “went cheerily into exile” in a remote fortress, separated from society into the circle for “the first time”

nerd's note:

personally, i would understand this as the circle as an organisation being created with the accord in 1:20 divine, and the mages being relegated to this lesser role after the greatest battles against the darkspawn, with the establishment of circle of magi towers after the protest. there’s no date of events on this codex, but since it mentions templars, it has to have been post-accord.

i would also take this account with a grain of salt in-world, as it was written by sister petrine, a controversial writer to the chantry, but nonetheless a chantry scholar.

this has been a lot of chatter about mages. but there’s an elephant in the room, and it’s looking at us suspiciously…

the circle and the templar order

the circle does supposedly have nominal independence from the chantry…

Knight-Commander Greagoir: I promised you aid, but with the Circle restored, my duty is to watch the mages. They are free to help you, however. Warden: I thought the templars were in charge of the Circle. Knight-Commander Greagoir: The templars guard and advise, but the first enchanter has the last word in what happens in the Circle.

...

Warden: Won’t the Circle of Magi do what the Chantry says? Alistair: Technically the Circle of Magi is independent. We don’t know that the Chantry won’t support us, of course. Morrigan: You truly believe that? Alistair: If we speak to the First Enchanter, he should see that his responsibility to the Grey Wardens supersedes anything the Chantry or even Teyrn Loghain might have to say about it.

… but since when has power ever gone where it’s supposed to?

as world of thedas volume 1 explains, “Although the Circle is supposed to be autonomous, a heavy Templar presence in all Circle towers has effectively made the organisation an arm of the Chantry for ages.”

a first enchanter can quickly lose all the power they allegedly hold

even in the best of times with a skilful, well-intentioned first enchanter, templars reserve the right to send mages to the dungeons, to take away their children, to kill any who leave the circle, etc. as a matter of course

grand clerics reserve the right to grant the right of annulment

generally, the system is maintained by a mutual interest in avoiding open conflict

the templars are the ones in power with the chantry’s full support. if they drive the mages to open conflict, their comfortable routine is uprooted

templars are equipped to hunt down individual mages, even blood mages and abominations

templars are not equipped to be outnumbered or face even numbers. mages are simply far more powerful in a fair fight than they are. lyrium can only do so much

...

mages, meanwhile, operate under the not entirely unfounded belief that the outside world is entirely hostile to them

at least if they remain, they can keep an uneasy balance in which most mages survive, their existence tolerated by the chantry. they can continue studying among their own kind in the only home they know

if they openly rebel, they may throw aside what limited protections and goodwill they have. mages like wynne outright state certainty that if they rebel, “genocide” will follow

furthermore, those mages with more status have more access to privilege. they’re also the ones who have best passed the chantry’s tests. thus, those in a position to lead are least inclined to rebel

you only rebel against the circle because you think less of your children are going to die starting a war than they are in here.

and, uh, on that cheery note… any questions from the class?

[cobaltsage]

I know my friends often think I’m paranoid for omitting pretty much every smart device outside of your standard phone and laptop from my life but honestly after playing Megaman Battle Network as a child, I know it’s only going to take a few very inspired people tired of corporate BS and experiencing a mental break to create a real world variation of World III.

Like. We’ve already heard of stories of people whose chastity cages got electronically hacked and force locked, and while that’s certainly creative, MMBN absolutely had way more simpler, and entirely possible crimes to commit.

Our fridges are online? Who controls that temperature. Maybe entire grocery stores will find their food either freezer burnt or spoiling.

Our thermostats? Well, it’d be a shame if somebody globally altered the temperature floor of the device to be boiling point.

Our cars are smart now? The literal first game had a chapter that merely took over traffic lights, it would only be easier to make the cars simply lock their users in and drive into each other.

Most data centers I’ve been to, even in multimillion dollar orgs, have dozens and dozens of servers protecting websites and the backup management processes are all handled by a single laptop that has a sticky note that says “do not close laptop” in a room that is virtually untouched for weeks at a time, except to check the temperatures of the cooling systems in the same room. As security, I can say I would have no idea if someone who came in for server maintenance was doing something suspicious or not, and even third party maintenance staff are often left to their own devices to work on perceived problems. Sure, they’re on camera, but so what if the next three people who work in the room are all going to be more third party maintenance staff?

Knowing that full well, I’m never going to buy a smart bidet for fear that it will end up with its water pressure settings altered, turning it into a power washer that ass blasts me to death.

[reimenaashelyee]

Midcareer Artist/Author Tip: Save a copy of any interviews or reviews about your work because who knows if the outlet where that was published will completely collapse

I'm really grateful I'm sorta shameless enough to archive copies of interviews and especially nice reviews of my comics because if I hadn't, this particular interview with the British Library would just be gone forever. I've put up a copy in the Alexander Comic website, so at least this piece of my webcomic's personal history is intact and accessible.

Late last year the British Library experienced a huge data breach / cybersecurity attack that completely evaporated the digital archives. Blog posts, the manuscript/illumination archives, web pages, exhibition catalogues, ... they are still down months later. It's wild to me that such a thing can happen to a PUBLIC infrastructure - a NATIONAL library and archive!!! Decades of information gone like that. Its been months and months of barely anything coming back online.

As an artist from outside the UK, I literally CANNOT access any of the European manuscripts of the Alexander Romance in their collection - meaning the British Library as a resource is impossible for Book Two. Which is wild cos the Library was like almost 50% of the bibliography and art references for Book One. As someone whose dayjob is to build, manage and audit workflow / data infrastructure this stuns me in disbelief at how lax the library was about backing up their website and digital infrastructure. They don't even have offline, offsite copies?? I'm talking about basic things here, not even the high level security and data engineering stuff. (all this being said with the knowledge that the British Library itself keeps getting their budget cut)

Anyway idk, this whole thing is a big lesson on archiving things online (and always backing up your stuff). Cos the Internet isn't forever apparently.

[muddyorbsblr]

the warmest bed i've ever known

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few days after 'when the feeling sinks in'

Summary: Tom has convinced you to go back to London with him for a few weeks, and a photo of you two out and about together has opinions firing left and right.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings (spoilers ahead): language; big hater behavior towards Reader; attempted breakup; angst; brief mentions of past bullying [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Tomathy fully in his comforting precious bf era

Numb.

That was the only word that came to mind right now to describe what you felt, staring at your screen with all the hateful vile words that people who didn't even know you were flinging your way. And all because of the man you were dating. And how much you looked like a downgrade compared to his ex.

Then again it really shouldn't have surprised you, considering the turn your life had taken in the last few months. Hell, the last few days. There was really no other way for these nameless faceless spineless people to react when the man you'd started dating was none other than Tom Hiddleston.

And the figuratively ridiculously large shoes you had to fill considering the rising power of said ex…was Taylor Swift's.

You shouldn't have gone online. Checked Twitter. Checked anything, really. They rarely if ever had anything good to say, it was a special kind of stupid and naive for you to think that someway somehow you and your relationship were going to be the exception to the vitriolic rule.

Now here you were, screechy voices filling your mind, spitting out the words that your eyes scanned when you opened the cesspool of a sight.

Nothing special

Unremarkable

Fucking stab my eyes out with a rusty fork ugly

To be completely fair, you'd seen worse when you were still in school, every day inundated with the mocking words that sociopaths with hormones on overdrive wielded recklessly like a goddamn balisong without care that the person on the receiving end was actually a person. And if that was the shitshow you experienced from people brave enough to sign those sentiments with their name and say it to your face with chests fully puffed out, then the bravery of these people when they were all snuggled up under the protective cover of anonymity really shouldn't have shocked you.

Finding out who they were behind the screen and dealing out retribution on your own terms would have been a simple enough task. After all, you'd done it before, and even with the current advancements in technology and the tighter security protocols centered around protecting user data, you still managed to keep a few tricks in your bag that you could whip out if the need ever arose.

There was just one thing that stopped you from doing just that. A part of you agreed with the vicious comments. It was easy enough to ignore when people in school were just making hateful pages about how you sucked and how no one would ever genuinely like you. Or when they made pages pretending to be you so that they could dole out their paltry attempts at trying to ruin what little reputation you had at the time.

When you dealt with them on that comparatively smaller scale, it became easy to numb yourself to their words, drown them out until they were just white noise in the background, keeping you focused on the path you laid out for yourself rather than distracting you. It gave you a drive to work harder and better so that you could get as far away from them as possible.

On this scale, the background noise was so strong, so loud and overwhelming that every step you took to fight it seemed to take every ounce of your strength. It felt like there was no way out. You couldn't just hunker down and work hard so that you could get away from it all this time. And you couldn't exactly ignore them, either.

How could you? When they were voicing with pinpoint accuracy every insecurity that plagued you ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend a few days ago. Ever since your first night with him months ago.

So is this some sort of Make-A-Wish thing? That's it, right? She's on her last few months and she wanted to live them in delusion?

Fifty bucks says Tom's active on Raya right now. Quick someone send me an invite link I wanna shoot my shot. Tommy don't worry baby I'll save you from whatever the fuck mistake you got yourself into.

How the fuck do you go from Taylor Swift to that?

The most prevalent remarks in the last few hours had to do with a sighting of you sitting on a park bench, working on creating a wardrobe piece for an upcoming show that, if all went well, would start filming in a few years. The book author and the prospective showrunner got in contact with you after a glowing recommendation from Taika, and they talked about struggling to find the perfect scarf that would serve as one of the series' focal points.

After a few discussions and so many skeins of yarn that there was now an oversized tote bag in your hotel room overflowing with various shades of dark teal and peacock blue, you started crocheting a sample size of the pattern to show the author later on in the afternoon before you went to meet Tom for dinner. And that was how you were spotted this morning, sitting quietly on the bench, eyes on your project while your boyfriend was taking Bobby for a walk.

And for some reason the internet was up in arms over that,

Are you really fucking telling me this boring ass bitch that's giving old lady crocheting a goddamn scarf is fucking riding the God of Mischief every day? Nuh uh nope I don't believe that. Our Tommy deserves someone fun, and actually fucking pays attention to him and not a ball of yarn. Our baby deserves so much better than this.

You stared at the desk in front of you, your sample scarf to the left, and your laptop at the center, the screen now black from inactivity. You couldn't bother to move to check the time; your reminder would ring when your call would start. All you could bring yourself to do was remain exactly as you were, knees drawn to your chest with your arms around your legs, shaking and doing your damnedest not to break out into sobs over the knowledge of what you were about to do as soon as the door opened.

It was a good run, you told yourself. More than I deserved.

The sound of the front door opening jolted you back to reality, the voices finally dying down somewhat. Unfortunately, hearing Tom's voice started the voices right back up again.

"Y/N, darling, have you finished with your call? I was hoping we could go out tonight for dinner and--" His words stopped abruptly once he got to his study, seeing you in the position you'd been in for the last few hours, and immediately rushed to your side, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What's wrong, goddess?"

"I uhh…I have to go back to Los Angeles. I'm gonna see if I can make the next flight back." You didn't dare meet his eyes, still trying to hold back any tears.

He let out a breath, sounding almost relieved before he pressed a kiss to your hands. "That shouldn't be much of a problem, I can pack a bag and we can be on the next flight out--"

"No," you cut him off, wincing at your tone. "I'm going alone. There's no need for you to go with me, I'm sure you have some other things to do here. Better things."

There was a slight tremor in his hand as he cupped your face, gently turning your head to look at him. He took a shuddering breath seeing the tears swimming in your eyes. "What's happening right now, sweetheart? Please. I don't understand what could have brought this on, we had a lovely morning--"

"I thought I could do this," you choked out, finding it difficult to form coherent words without starting to blubber. "I thought I could drown the voices out, not let them get to me but…they're too loud. They're ruthless and vile and they have megaphones and they're right." You shook your head to turn away from him, burying your face between your knees, the all too familiar feeling of shame flooding your system, shrouding over you like an overly weighted blanket. "I'm not strong enough to do this with you. And you deserve someone better than me."

You took your laptop off of Standby, your screen illuminating and showing him the harsh words that had been haunting you since you stupidly decided to check the internet just minutes after he left the house. He began to visibly tense as his eyes scanned the pages seeing all the hateful things literal strangers had to say about your relationship.

"Look we gave it a shot," you tried to tell him, making a motion to get out of the chair which made him put his hands on the armrests, effectively keeping you in place. "But I think it's time to call it. I'm not good for you, and you deserve someone--"

"No." His tone was low and resolute, hands staying firmly on the chair, refusing to let you go anywhere. From a certain perspective, it was a smart enough move, considering that if he let you go right now, you'd probably sprint out the door in the name of doing what you thought would be best for him. Even if it meant ripping your own heart out in the process. "This can't be over already, we've only just begun. The time I've had with you has been extraordinary and I know that if we keep going, it'll get even better. You've made me so happy and--"

"You'll find someone that makes you happier," you dumbly shot back, the sentiment hitting you so hard that the tears finally began to fall. Even the thought of him potentially moving on so quickly after this already had you ready to sob. "Someone stronger. Someone that can handle all of this or hell someone they'll actually like--"

"Those people don't care for my happiness," he said in a rush, tears filling his eyes as well. "No matter what I do, there's always going to be someone hateful that has something to say, and they'll always think they're right. It's so clear that they don't give a damn about what actually makes me happy because if they did, they wouldn't be saying these disgusting lies about you, trying to get into your head."

There was a desperation in his tone that tore at your heart; no part of you wanted to do this. But seeing every single insecurity that you'd had ever since you said yes to being his girlfriend, yes to going to London with him for a few weeks, and generally just yes to spending the next few however months of your life with him, all laid out in print echoed by so many others? You knew he deserved better than this, better than someone that would ultimately have to be hidden away so that these people would stop coming for his throat for his 'poor choices'.

And when you knew that what would be best for the man you ached to give your heart to was to actually tuck your heart away and run, how selfish would it be for you to do the opposite?

The feel of his hands framing your face brought you back to your thoughts, the frantic pleading look on his face robbing you of your breath. "Do you want to leave, Y/N?" You wanted to scream No of course I don't, I want to stay with you. But you found yourself unable to form words. All you could do was shake your head as more tears fell from your eyes.

He pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his arms the second you crossed your hands behind his neck and lifting you out of your seat. He didn't break the kiss until he'd carried you to his bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed. Then he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before sinking to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Then don't leave. Stay with me. We'll stay in and stay away from prying eyes so nobody gets to say anything about you, we'll--"

"You shouldn't have to make adjustments in your life for the sake of making me comfortable," you argued. "You should be with someone that can face all of this, not cower in a corner licking her wounds needing to be protected if she so much as gets seen stepping out of your house like some tiny helpless baby animal. You deserve to be with someone you can share everything with, without the worry of people shooting you down just because I'm not pretty enough or tall enough for them. You can have anything and everything you want with a snap of your fingers, I'm sure it won't be that hard to find someone that--"

Tom stopped you from letting out another word, holding you by the back of your  head and pulling you to him for a desperate kiss. "I don't want anyone else, I want you. I don't give a fuck what anyone else wants to think about how I choose to spend my life and who I choose to share it with, because I know better. You're enough, you're more than enough. And if a few precautions and adjustments have to be made to make sure they can't get to you, then I'm more than happy to do all that and more.

"Our first night together I told you I just want you. As you are. That I want to make you happy." He rose from his knees, pressing a kiss to your cheek and working his way to your ear. "That I want to satisfy you. Do you remember?" You could only nod, trying and failing not to melt against him as he kissed below your ear. "I'm going to add that list of wants now. I want to make sure you feel safe, with every means I have at my disposal."

He guided you down until your back was flat on the mattress, kissing down your neck as he did so, his lips trailing a path down to just over your heart. You found it near impossible to breathe, finding yourself overwhelmed with how gentle and tender he was handling you.

"I want to love you," he said, meeting your eyes with a look that you could only describe as surrender. "I know you're not ready to hear it yet, but this can't wait anymore. You need to hear it. You need to know that the only way for me to actually have everything that I want is if I get to share everything I have with you. I need you to know that your leaving would rip my heart out." He made his way back up, stopping when your faces were mere inches apart. "I need you to know who you'd be leaving." He brushed his lips across yours in a featherlight kiss. "You would be leaving a man so completely, so desperately in love with you."

You tried to speak, but all you could manage was inaudibly mouthing his name, the sentiment you tried to stomp down just a little over a week ago fighting its way back up to the surface. Practically shouting from the back of your throat.

"I love you," he breathed out. "Please, sweetheart. Don't do this. Don't leave. Whatever you want, whatever you need so that we can make this work, we'll find our way through this together just please…I'm begging you don't tell me that what you want is to rid yourself of me--"

"That's the last thing I want," you managed to choke out, your eyes stinging with even more tears. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mustering every ounce of strength you had left to finally say the sentiment you prematurely blurted out when he first popped up at your house. "I love you, too."

You woke up the next morning the same way you'd been ever since you and Tom first got together, his arm wrapped around you, the butterflies fluttering violently in your stomach from how he held your body against his without a stitch of clothing between you two, along with the tender kisses he peppered along your shoulder. It was a routine you'd not only found yourself getting comfortable with, but you were looking forward to it whenever you felt yourself rousing from sleep.

And that part scared the living daylights out of you.

Relationships? Routines? Your mind wandering to that place that you said you never dared think about in the context of being in any kind of relationship again, because the last time you did, the rug got pulled out from under you and threw your life and the future you envisioned into a blender?

You swore to yourself that day all those years ago that you were never going to let yourself get this comfortable. That you would always have your safety measures in place so that you never had to worry about having to scramble your way back up to your feet without any sense of direction.

And you did. You had your measures. You had your walls up. You put your heart under lock and key and said you'd never give it to someone again. Yet here you were, basically opening the chest and telling Tom that it was right there for the taking.

A chest you couldn't close again even if you tried. Even if you wanted to.

The feel of his lips pressing a kiss between your neck and shoulder had you letting out a tiny whimper, making him smile and hum against your skin. "Good morning, goddess."

You were growing concerningly comfortable with that, too.

He moved you until you were lying with your back flat on the mattress, brushing his nose across yours as he gave you a contented smile. "I love you."

You couldn't help the smile that stretched across your own face hearing the words. "Hmm…careful, you keep talking like that I might get used to it."

He laid his lips on yours, giving you a tender kiss as he gently ran his hand down the side of your body before stopping at your hip, his thumb stroking your skin. "I want you to get used to it, because I'll be saying it a lot from now on." His lips traced a line down to the base of your throat. "I love you," he murmured against your skin repeatedly as he kissed along your collarbone.

"I love you, too," you whimpered as he kissed his way down to your stomach, his shaky exhale warming your skin even more. You placed your hand on his shoulder, leading him to refocus his attention to kissing his way up your arm. "I really stepped on the ledge yesterday…" you trailed off, struggling to take a deep breath as you tried to find the words, ultimately settling on the simplest ones. You weren't likely to find better words anyways. "Thank you for talking me off of it."

He took his time kissing his way back up to your lips, never breaking eye contact. "Always, my love." The new endearment, paired with the way he tenderly kissed your lips, had your head spinning. "I'm going out to get us some breakfast. I'll be back in an hour. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Those words had you stirring, making a motion to sit up on the bed. "What? No, you don't need to do that, you'll get papped. Gimme a few minutes to get dressed, I'll do it."

"If you go out, they'll photograph you, too," he argued. "Pictures of us are still fresh on their minds, which means these vultures are still very much on the lookout for you out and about, waiting to take pictures in hopes of selling them to the sleaziest gossip sites. Give it a week, maybe two, and they'll refocus their attention on someone else. Them and the internet."

You slumped back into the bed with a soft thud, surrendering to the fact that unfortunately, the logic made sense. You needed a good few days to let your face and those photos fade into relative irrelevancy. "You probably need your team to spin some story on why we were seen together, too," you sighed, the discomfort of having to let the wheels turn in your head before you've even had a bite of food or a sip of coffee starting to make you skittish. "I mean, the saying goes that we can't put the genie back in the bottle, but what if it isn't fully out yet? We still have a chance to…I don't know, mitigate the situation?"

Tom rested his forehead against yours, letting out a deep sigh as he laid back down on the bed as well, pulling you into his arms so that your head rested on his chest. "One day it won't be this toxic."

His words had you giggling, looking up at him and pressing a kiss to his chin. "It's adorable that you think that, but no. But one day maybe the voices of those who would genuinely just be happy for you would be louder than these snakes in the pit with their megaphones. And maybe one day I'll be strong enough to not give a fuck about any of it."

He tightened his hold on you, arms snaking around your body in an embrace that had you falling even more into that dangerous place of way too damn comfortable. "Until then I'm going to do what I can to keep you safe. It'll only be a few weeks at most. Maybe less if we're lucky and someone causes a scandal." He pressed numerous soft kisses to the tip of your nose, breaking out into a smile when his attentions caused you to let out a soft giggle. "For now, I get to keep you in the house. All to myself." His smile turned into a mischievous grin as he rolled you on to your back, rasping the next words, "Like my own beautiful brilliant little captive."

"A very willing captive," you shot back, once again going breathless when he started kissing you all over your neck and chest. "Be careful out there? Don't let them get a reaction out of you, no matter what they ask. Or what they say about me."

"I will," he mumbled, humming against your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along the side of your body, nipping at your waist before pulling away. He made his way to his closet, shooting a playful knowing glance at you when he saw how you propped yourself up on your elbows to enjoy the view. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he chuckled, throwing on his usual running gear of a black t-shirt with the Legendary logo and black shorts that were definitely a size too small with how the garment hugged and accentuated his hips and upper thighs. Not to mention how those shorts made it all too obvious that your boyfriend happily and proudly chooses neither when it came to the age-old debate of boxers or briefs.

He walked back toward the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning over you to capture your lips in a heated kiss, as if it had been weeks since he'd done it last rather than mere minutes. His hand freely roamed your side, lightly grasping at your hips while he slowly laid you back down flat on the bed. Once he had, he broke the kiss to press his lips to the tip of your nose, then to your forehead.

"I'll wake you when I'm back home. Promise me you won't check on those pages again. None of them deserve our time, or our emotions. I love you, goddess."

"I promise. I love you, too."

A/N: Welcome to the second part of the 'said it first' arc! This would probably be the angstiest moment in their entire relationship and precious bf meow meow really answered her "I'm leaving" with "No ur not I love u 🥺" and we love him for it your honor

Three more parts to this arc and hopefully I can pull myself out of playing my lil games long enough to actually get to writing any of the pieces in my rotation 😅🫡

Here's a gif for everyone who reads 'til the end of the post…this be what the blorbos were like in that last scene:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[genderkoolaid]

Is there a reason why common binding advice isn't pulled from this study: Health impact of chest binding among transgender adults: a community-engaged, cross-sectional study? It seems to me like the most comprehensive research yet, but all online binding advice I see just repeats the "8 hours a day or less" advice but never mentions the "give yourself days off from binding" advice which was found to be more important.

I think most people probably just haven't heard of it! Although it is important to recognize that this is just one study. Still, it is good to see research being done by people who recognize the importance of binding for trans people's mental health and safety.

The full article can be read here for free. Here's the part being referenced from the Discussion section:

Binding frequency, or average days per week spent binding, was the factor most consistently associated with risk for self-reported negative health outcomes in adjusted analyses (22/28 outcomes). This suggests that taking ‘off’ days from binding could potentially reduce risk for negative health impacts. This is notable given that over half of participants bind daily and do not regularly take off days. Current community resources largely recommend reducing binding intensity (i.e., hours per day spent binding) to reduce negative physical effects (Hudson 2004; TransGuys 2014), but our data do not necessarily support this recommendation, as intensity was largely unassociated with physical health outcomes in multivariate analyses. Based on this study, individuals may consider reducing the frequency of binding, in addition to or instead of reducing the daily intensity of binding, to minimise or prevent negative physical symptoms. Binding intensity was associated with many outcomes in bivariate analyses, which may be why binding intensity is perceived to be associated with negative health impacts. However, after adjusting for other binding practices, intensity was unassociated with most outcomes in multivariate models, and was in fact negatively associated with four outcomes (numbness, lightheadedness, fatigue and weakness). This puzzling finding may indicate issues of reverse causation whereby individuals who experience negative health outcomes reduce their average binding intensity, so that lower intensities appear associated with negative outcomes. Given that many community resources recommend reducing binding intensity if negative symptoms are experienced, this explanation is plausible, but longitudinal data are needed to fully understand the relationship between binding intensity and negative physical outcomes.

They also discuss binding duration (how many years spent binding) and which types of binding had the least negative outcomes.

[runawaysiren940]

Here's the full script for the most recent video, minus where I ad libbed:

Dr. Moumita Debnath, a 31 year old doctor trainee, was found dead on August 9th, 2024. After taking a break half-way through a 36 hour shift, her corpse was found on a blood stained mattress. Her body bore the wounds of torture, from the wounds to her eyes, her pelvis, genitals, arms and legs. As noted in The Publica’s report, “The post-mortem report also noted that over 150 mg of semen was recovered from the doctor’s body, indicating that up to 30 men could have been involved in the violation of Debath’s body. The normal volume of semen produced by a male upon ejaculation typically varies from 1.5 to 5.0 mg, according to the online medical encyclopedia MedlinePlus” (Biase). Her family was told that she died via suicide, though her wounds made it obvious that this was not the case; however, this claim allowed the principal of the school to avoid filing a police report. The attempts to hide the crime did not succeed, and have resulted in protests across India and the medical industry, both in response to the lack of protections for medical staff, and because of the attempt to hide the crime. 

In the aftermath, searches for footage of Debnath’s gang rape have trended, as “According to Google Trends, queries such as “Moumita Debnath porn” and “Dr. Moumita Debnath video” have experienced surges across India, with “Moumita Debnath rap[e] video” experiencing a 110% increase in searches. As of the time of this writing, of all the queries associated with her name, “Moumita Debnath photo video” is the 5th most searched in India, while “Moumita Debath last video” is the 12th most searched overall” (Biase).

This isn’t the only horrific case of gang rape, torture, or extreme violence against women. In fact, back in 2023, Vidya Krishnan wrote an opinion piece published in the New York times on the topic titled, “In India’s Gang Rape Culture, All Women Are Victims”, where she writes: 

It is the specific horror of gang rape that weighs most heavily on Indian women that I know. You may have heard of the many gruesome cases of women being gang-raped, disemboweled and left for dead. When an incident rises to national attention, the kettle of outrage boils over, and women sometimes stage protests, but it passes quickly. All Indian women are victims, each one traumatized, angry, betrayed, exhausted. Many of us think about gang rape more than we care to admit.

In 2011 a woman was raped every 20 minutes in India, according to government data. The pace quickened to about every 16 minutes by 2021, when more than 31,000 rapes were reported, a 20 percent increase from the previous year. In 2021, 2,200 gang rapes were reported to authorities.

But those grotesque numbers tell only part of the story: 77 percent of Indian women who have experienced physical or sexual violence never tell anyone, according to one study. Prosecutions are rare.

Indian men may face persecution because they are Muslims, Dalits (untouchables) or ethnic minorities or for daring to challenge the corrupt powers that be. Indian women suffer because they are women. Soldiers need to believe that war won’t kill them, that only bad luck will; Indian women need to believe the same about rape, to trust that we will come back to the barracks safe each night, to be able to function at all. (Krishnan)

Just from recent memory, I can recall several other horrifying cases. 

In a rare case of justice, in May 2024, a pair of brothers were sentenced to death for the rape and murder of a 12 year old girl. To hide the crime, they then burned her alive in a coal furnace. (The Hindu Bureau)

In 2012, 22 year old Jyoti Singh was “beaten, gang-raped, and tortured in a private bus in which she was travelling with her male friend, Avnindra Pratap Pandey. There were six others in the bus, including the driver, all of whom raped the woman and beat her friend.” She later succumbed to her wombs, while her friend supposedly committed suicide. (Khan)

Many rape cases end with the woman dead. It is horrifying to me, from across the globe, to know that women live under constant threat of sexual assault, and while all assaults are horrific, the cases which break into the international news sphere from India are especially cruel and disturbing. It is the culmination of a deeply traditional and patriarchal society, wherein the devaluation of women is compounded with caste and religious issues, along with the rise of pornography. Porn is the instruction, and rape is the practice; though clearly, there was no need for instruction. 

Famous cases include:

The Suryanelli rape case, where in 1996, a sixteen year old was lured with a marriage promise, kidnapped, and was raped by 37 men during her forty day captivity. Although initially 35 of 39 accused were found guilty, in 2005, all 35 convicted were acquitted of charges. 

The Pararia mass rape, where in 1988, at least 14 women were gang raped by the police force, and had their homes looted after they protested against being removed to make way for a damn being built. “India Today reported Sinha's concluding statements were: "It cannot be ruled out that these ladies might speak falsehood to get a sum of Rs 1,000, which was a huge sum for them." (Bonner)

In many caste altercations, women are targeted because to rape a woman is not done just to her, but is meant to be an insult to the community and the community’s honor. In an environment where religious and social conflict occurs, women are especially vulnerable as targets of sexual violence. 

However, what the internet has provided is an avenue to share the debasement and horror of gang rape with other men. It prolongs the suffering and harm to the victim and her family; but also serves as a warning to other women, and as an enticement to other men. Come, they say. Look at what we did. See how we were despicable and got away with it? You can too. 

A 28 year old tourist and her husband were robbed, then man beaten, and the woman, raped by seven men in March of 2024. Since they have taken down the video detailing the event from their social media, I will not show that here, or go deeply into detail. However, in the reactions to the incident, one can note a pattern of behavior, not just from Indian men, but also women. 

The BBC reported: 

“The chief of India's National Commission for Women, Rekha Sharma, also sparked criticism after she responded to a post from a US journalist who wrote that while India was one of his favourite places, "the level of sexual aggression" he witnessed while living in the country was "unlike anywhere else I have ever been". He also gave a couple of examples of sexual assault faced by women he knew.

"Did you ever report the incident to police?" Ms Sharma wrote. "If not then you are totally an irresponsible person. Writing only on social media and defaming whole country is not good choice."” (Sebastian)

Victim blaming is constant, and serves as a deterrent from seeking help, reporting incidents, or enacting change. In the aftermath of the 2019 gang rape and murder of 27 year old Priyanka Reddy, Indian filmmaker Daniel Shravan ranted on social media that  “The government should encourage and legalize rape without violence,” and, “Girls above 18 should be educated on rapes and not deny the sexual desires of men.” He also went on to say that, “Rapists are not finding a way to get their bodily sexual desires [met],” which is compelling them to kill.” (“After a Woman in India was Raped and Murdered, Her Name Trended on Porn Sites”). Because assault and violence against women is so common in India, it makes sense that victim blaming, from both sexes remains so strong, as “according to Inside Southern, the reason for victim blaming is: “People may blame a victim in order to remove themselves from an unpleasant event and therefore confirm their own invulnerability to the risk. Others may perceive the victim as different from themselves if they label or accuse the victim. People console themselves by saying, “Because I’m not like her, and I don’t do that, this would never happen to me.”” (Ram).  In other words, it a pacifier, a way to manage the dread that comes with realizing the ubiquitousness and unpredictability of sexual assault. If there is something you can do to avoid being assaulted, then it must be her fault. And you must be safe, because you don’t make those choices. 

That men make up a large contingent of the judges and lawmakers that in turn pass the laws which allow rapists to walk free iillustrates the universal truth that Anna Maria Mozzoni, a popular Italian feminist theorist, wrote about in 1895, “You will find that the priest who damns you is a man; that the legislator who oppresses you is a man, that the husband who reduces you to an object is a man; that the libertine [anarchist] who harasses you is a man; that the capitalist who enriches himself with your ill- paid work and the speculator who calmly pockets the price of your body, are men.”

It’s easy to forget when the violence is not happening in front of you, when you can excuse it, or look away, or claim that there are forces at play that you don’t understand. It’s easy to say that the problem is with a people or a religion- 

But the truth is that woman hating is universal. A passing interest in anthropology will only show the manifestations of this hatred in creative ways throughout space and time.

Works Cited

“After a Woman in India was Raped and Murdered, Her Name Trended on Porn Sites.” Fight The New Drug, December 2019, https://fightthenewdrug.org/woman-in-india-raped-and-murdered-her-name-trended-on-porn/. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Biase, Natasha. “Name Of Female Doctor Who Was Gang Raped And Murdered In Indian Hospital Appears On Porn Sites As Men Seek Out Footage Of The Assault.” The Publica, 19 August 2024, https://www.thepublica.com/female-doctor-who-was-gang-raped-and-murdered-in-indian-hospital-appears-on-porn-sites-as-indian-men-search-for-footage-of-crime/. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Bonner, Arthur. “Pararia mass rape (1988).” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pararia_mass_rape_(1988). Accessed 21 August 2024.

The Hindu Bureau. “Two get death for raping, burning alive minor girl in Bhilwara.” The Hindu, 20 May 2024, https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/rajasthan/two-sentenced-to-death-by-pocso-court-in-rajasthan-court-for-raping-burning-alive-minor-girl/article68195867.ece. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Khan, Aamir. “2012 Delhi gang rape and murder.” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2012_Delhi_gang_rape_and_murder. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Krishnan, Vidya. “Opinion | In India's Gang Rape Culture, All Women Are Victims (Published 2023).” The New York Times, 2 June 2023, https://www.nytimes.com/2023/06/02/opinion/india-women-rape.html. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Ram, Anjali. “Never Ending Tales Of Victim Blaming And Shaming.” Feminism in India, 12 December 2022, https://feminisminindia.com/2022/12/12/never-ending-tales-of-victim-blaming-and-shaming/. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Sebastian, Meryl. “Outrage over Brazilian tourist's gang rape in India.” BBC, 3 March 2024, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-68444993. Accessed 21 August 2024.

[queeranarchism]

https://psycnet.apa.org/fulltext/2024-16010-001.html

Do Gender Assessments Prevent Regret in Transgender Healthcare? A Narrative Review

Florence Ashley, Neeki Parsa, til kus, Kinnon R. MacKinnon

Ashley, F., Parsa, N., kus, t., & MacKinnon, K. R. (2023). Do gender assessments prevent regret in transgender healthcare? A narrative review.Psychology of Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1037/sgd0000672

Abstract

Gender assessments are traditionally required before accessing gender-affirming interventions such as hormone therapy and transition-related surgeries. Gender assessments are presented as a way of preventing regret experienced by some people who reidentify with the gender they were assigned at birth after medically transitioning. This article reviews the theoretical and empirical foundations of commonly used methods and predictors for assessing trans patients’ gender identity and/or dysphoria as a condition of eligibility for gender-affirming interventions. We find that the DSM-5 diagnosis, taking gender history, standardized questionnaires, and regret correlates rely on stereotyping, arbitrary, and unproven considerations and, as a result, do not offer reliable ways of predicting future regret over-and-above self-reported gender identity and embodiment goals. This finding is corroborated by empirical data suggesting that individuals who circumvent gender assessments or pursue care under an informed consent model do not present heightened rates of regret. The article concludes that there is no evidence that gender assessments can reliably predict or prevent regret better than self-reported gender identity and embodiment goals. This conclusion provides additional support for informed consent models of care, which deemphasize gender assessments in favor of supporting patient decision making.

read more

[sumikatt]

a generative AI workflow for art that can't reasonably be detected as "AI use"

before we start:

I am an artist with original art in my art tag dating back to 2017

I think intellectual property is a farce and i hate copyright

I don't think image scraping and using it as training data is stealing, the same way I don't think piracy is stealing

I have used my own laptop hardware for these image generations, not any online service

Images are not described, apologies

Step 1: Concept (txt2img)

Let's do a basic edgy fallen angel character as our example. The prompt was something like "fullbody edgy fallen angel, short hair wearing leather vest, chain accessory, broken halo, wings"

Model used: Counterfeit v3.0

Model used: Flat 2D Animerge v4.5

Step 2: Pick and choose parts, then trace

Since I've traced over a completely new image, it is impossible to detect that I've used generative AI at all. It can't be reverse-searched. For all intents and purposes, this is "original artwork by a human".

You can stop here, but I wanted to toss it back in to see what I'd get.

Step 3: img2img generation

I've added a dark background and an outline to the boots for clearer separation of character and background. This generation was done with a high CFG (guidance scale).

For reference, here's high CFG to lower CFG from left to right.

Step 4: Upscale and paintover

Obviously, these aren't flawless images. So we'll paint over some parts manually until it becomes "human art"

I only did the face for brevity's sake. I've fixed lighting, flattened out the noise, fixed her vest, and overall tried to make it more consistent. Direct paintover is a harder to execute, but it is completely possible to cover all "tells".

It's not my best work as I'm not that experienced with anime style illustration, but it will pass a general AI sniff check (using sightengine).

for comparison, here's some of my other original paintings.

Closing thoughts

You'll never really be able to actually 100% identify any art as AI generated or assisted, unless you're literally watching an artist over their shoulder. Models are only getting better at generation. Generative AI is just a Pinterest replacement in terms of art tools, really. Harassing artists and fearmongering about the use of AI is stupid and reactionary. You can still enjoy art even if it's generated.

The end

[laurenairay]

I can't help it if I like it - M. Martin

Summary: Dhara Nicholls is just trying to make ends meet while working on her Masters degree. Enter Matt Martin.

This is my entry for @wyattjohnston’s summer fic exchange 2k24! My giftee is @comphy-and-cozy and I hope I incorporated everything we discussed. This is the second longest fic I’ve ever written on here and I had genuinely so much fun writing it! Definitely written with a lot of creative license, not only because Matt and Sydney are couple goals, but also because I completely fudged the season dates. I also modelled Dhara’s degree and work after one of my best friends, and her Sikh faith after another friend, so it is as accurate as I could make it without experiencing it all myself.

I hope you enjoy it C! And thank you to Demi for reading through the first half of this monster!

Words: 13.7k

Warnings: age gap, flirting, pining, extremely slow burn, implied intimate moment, some bad language, changed names of Matt’s irl wife and children

Title from Shotput by Still Woozy Lyrics used from Middle of the Night by Elley Duhé

~

Waiter/Waitress…

Bartender…

Tutor…

Barista…

Cashier…

Of all the things to leave to the last minute. Dhara usually prided herself on her organisational skills, but with her summer internship taking up most of the past couple of months, finding a part-time job to give her disposable income (and food, for that matter) for the final year of her postgraduate degree had slipped her mind. Rents had gone up quite significantly in the past few months, so anything extra she had last year was pouring directly into paying for her tiny apartment, and she needed to eat, damn it.

Unfortunately, now that it was already August, there was nothing truly suitable. She needed flexible hours, that was for sure – some of her data modelling work couldn’t just be stopped in the middle of a good coding flow to pick up a shift at a bar. And some of her classes were online this final year, so she wouldn’t find it as easy to travel back and forth to a job on campus. Tutoring could potentially work but it would involve a fair amount of planning and structure that she wasn’t sure she could commit to.

This was the worst timing. And she’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t ask her parents for help, not when she was so close to finally finishing her education. But what could she do?

“Hey Dhara!”

She turned her head to the side quickly, dark curls whipping over her shoulder, before she smiled. The familiar voice indeed matched one of her former dormmates, Melissa. They had lived on the same floor in freshman year at NYU, but with limited student housing, most of the friends on that floor had gone their separate ways into private renting. She’d lost touch with a few of those girls too, after they graduated from their undergraduate degrees, but those she still kept in touch with had carried on their education like she had – only Melissa and another of their friends Janelle had taken up postgraduate study at Long Island University – Brooklyn though, so it was good to see her familiar face outside of the occasional coffee catch-ups, especially after the long summer break.

“Melissa! Hi! How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good, glad to be back in the city. How are you? Did you travel back to LA to see your parents in the end?”

“I’m pretty good too, thanks. And no, the internship offer was too good to turn down. My parents went on a few trips by themselves anyway, so it’s not like I missed out on too much time with them,” Dhara shrugged, smiling, “Now I’m just trying to get myself set up for final year.”

She loved her parents – really, she did – but she wasn’t as close to them as she had been growing up. The downfall of choosing to study far away from home. Dhara had barely been back to Los Angeles since she moved to New York when she turned 18, if she was being honest, and her parents valued her independence as well as her dedication to her studies. At least they could rely on video calls to see each other’s faces.

“Oh man, tell me about it. Shitty rent increases, right?” Melissa groaned.

“Exactly!” Dhara laughed, “I’m just trying to find something that’ll let me be flexible so I can graduate to the best of my ability, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Melissa sighed, smiling sympathetically, “I’ve got a couple of interviews at coffee chains lined up, but the hours are going to be brutal.”

Dhara grimaced. Yeah, there was a reason she wanted to avoid working as a barista unless there was no other option.

“Hey, you like kids, right?”

Dhara raised an eyebrow at her friend’s question. “I…do. I have plenty of cousins who have kids already, if that’s what you mean. Why?”

“A friend of my roommate works for a nannying agency. Completely certified company, really well paid, you can input your available hours into their website so they match you up, and they cater to a lot of wealthy clients. She told me they’re opening their books, but I’m not a huge kids person myself. If you’re interested, I could pass you her details?”

“Wait, really? Just like that?” Dhara asked, surprised.

It almost sounded too good to be true.

“Really really. The agency do background checks and would want to see your resume as well as do an interview with you in person, but I can’t see you getting rejected from this. You’re crazy smart and super competent,” Melissa shrugged, smiling.

Nannying. For a potentially wealthy client. There were a whole host of problems that could come from that, with both the parents and the children, but could the flexibility be worth it?

Then again, what did she have to lose?

“Okay sure, pass me her details and I’ll give your roommate’s friend a call,” Dhara smiled.

She could only hope this worked out in her favour.

~

Time was running out, Matt knew that much. There were only a few weeks before the season started up again, and it was beyond time for him to hire a nanny for his daughter. He’d been a single dad for two years now, his marriage ending mostly amicably. Sure, his ex-wife’s announcement that she was tired of following him around for his career had been hard, but not as hard as her second announcement that she was following her own career abroad. But she’d not contested anything he'd asked of her, and hadn’t made any unreasonable demands herself, so it was as clean as a divorce could be. Being solely responsible for the upbringing of their daughter Sarah was not something he’d been prepared for, not with his lifestyle. He knew he was lucky that his mom had been willing drop everything and move in with him after his wife left them, but it was time to let his mom live her own life – and for him to move on with his.

Hockey was his first love, nothing would change that. But his daughter Sarah had taken over so much of his heart that he was struggling with the idea of hiring a stranger to take care of her when hockey took precedence. But it was time – for all of them. In the end, he’d decided to go through a reputable agency that a few of the guys on the team recommended, but after three unsuccessful interviews Matt was just about ready to beg his mom to stay a little longer.

The first interview had started well. But it had quickly deteriorated when he realised that they weren’t as flexible as he needed. It was fair enough that the nanny wanted set hours – he knew his schedule was all over the place – but he obviously couldn’t offer that, so he wished them well and cut the interview short.

The second interview had started bad and gotten worse. He didn’t know if it was the way the woman smiled at him when he saw the elegant interior of the house or how she spoke of him being a single dad with a wide-eyed pity smile, but he didn’t like the vibes she was sending at all. He didn’t need a nanny that was more interested in him than his daughter. No, just no.

The third interview sounded promising on paper. The candidate had all the right qualifications and experience, but when it came down to processes and how she handled tantrums and tears? No way. He knew Sarah sometimes got upset when he was on long roadtrips – it was only natural – and there was no way he was leaving his daughter with someone who would punish her for showing understandable emotions.

So Matt could only hope that this fourth interview – his last for the day before he gave up and started from scratch – would finally be positive.

Dhara Nicholls.

When he’d first seen the name, he hadn’t known what to expect. Dar-Rah. That was how the agency lady had pronounced it, so he could only hope she was right – the last thing he wanted was to say the nanny’s name wrong out of ignorance. While he would ask for more detail during the interview, he knew the basics about her from the information the agency had sent over. Born and raised in Los Angeles, California, studied BS Computer Science at NYU, went on to study for a Masters in Computer Science at Long Island University – Brooklyn, and was currently in her final year for that. It was the flexibility that he was most intrigued by – and her apparent intelligence. He didn’t care that she didn’t have nannying experience outside of family. If she could take care of his daughter, make sure she was happy and healthy, that’s all that he cared about.

The doorbell rang right on time. Good start.

When he opened the door to greet her, Matt found himself freezing a little. He’d assumed that she wouldn’t be Caucasian based on her first name (as much as he hated assuming anything), but he somehow hadn’t been expecting the sheer beauty of the Indian woman standing in front of him now. At least he assumed she was Indian – and again with those assumptions. He would have to check for sure with some subtle questions because the last thing he wanted to do was act like an ass. But right now, her big beautiful brown eyes, smooth skin, glossy dark curls and sweet hopeful smile had his mind whirling. What was wrong with him?

“Hi! Mr Martin?”

Huh, a typical Valley girl accent. Not what he’d been expecting. Damn assumptions.

“Matt, please. Mr Martin makes me feel like my dad’s standing behind me,” he managed to force out.

The laugh that spilled from her lips sounded like music. He was doomed alright.

“Good to know. Matt it is,” she mused.

“Thanks, Dhara. Please come in,” he said, smiling warmly.

The way she smiled as he said her name let him know he’d said it right. Dar-Rah. Beautiful. No, he needed to be professional about this. He couldn’t let himself be bowled over by a beautiful girl, not when she was (hopefully) going to be employed by him. That wasn’t fair to her. Or to Sarah.

“Can I get you a drink? Water? Coffee?” he offered.

“Water would be great, if you don’t mind,” she nodded.

Matt quickly grabbed her a bottle of water from the fridge, before leading her into the living room, handing her the bottle as they sat down on opposite sofas. She was tall even in flat shoes, maybe 5ft10, and she looked around the room with a smile before her eyes landed on Matt. Captivating.

“Let’s start, shall we?” he said, trying to clear his thoughts.

Right from the get-go, she was impressive. Her upbringing in Los Angeles was very family-orientated, living near her father’s 3 siblings and all their children, her cousins. Her studies alone were remarkable but the way he could tell how passionate she was for her work was the most interesting part of all. He liked that she could be flexible with timings, happy to stay overnight in a guest room during roadtrips, and she was willing to work around her class schedule to even take classes from his house while Sarah was occupied with something she could still keep an eye on. It was more than he could have asked for, if he was being honest. It was all just a bonus that she was warm and genuine on top of it all.

Matt knew what he wanted the conclusion of this interview to be. Dhara was exactly what he’d been looking for, and he knew that Sarah would quickly accept her too. He could only hope that she felt like she’d been a good fit for them too.

“Is there anything else you wanted to know?” she asked.

“I think I have everything I need. I’m not going to lie, this whole process has been a struggle,” Matt admitted, “Trying to figure out who to trust my daughter with is the last thing I thought I’d be doing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dhara said softly, smiling sadly at him, “Would you like me to take any preferences back with me to the agency? So the next person is a better fit for you?”

If he hadn’t been convinced about her before, he absolutely was now.

“You don’t need to take feedback to the agency, Dhara. Because I want to offer you the job,” he said, smiling.

Her lips parted slightly in surprise, before a wide grin spread over her face. Somehow the pure joy in her expression made her even more beautiful, if that was even possible.

“Thank you, Mr Martin. Thank you so much!” Dhara said happily.

“You’re welcome. You’re exactly who I was hoping to find for my daughter. And please, call me Matt, remember?” he mused.

“Of course, whatever you want…Matt,” she said, ducking her head slightly to hide what looked like a shy smile.

Whatever you want.

Now that was just dangerous.

~

Dhara felt like she was dreaming. Three days ago, when Matt had actually offered her the job, she’d felt like her head was spinning, and it wasn’t until she had the official contract sorted and signed with the agency that everything started to sink in. He was willing to be as flexible as she needed, in return for her being as flexible as he needed – it was a small price to pay to stay in the guest room when he was away for her to still be able to attend all her classes. The only thing they’d had to negotiate was her one in-person class every two weeks that she couldn’t do online that was outside of Sarah’s Kindergarten hours, which he’d arranged for one of his teammate’s wives to look after Sarah for a couple of hours until she was finished. And wasn’t that a trip, learning who he was. An NHL player. She was really going to be the nanny for an NHL player’s six year old daughter, and she could still complete her degree. Mindblowing. The only thing that was still sort of in the works were the Kindergarten drop offs themselves – she wouldn’t be put on the accepted pick-up person list until after a first week’s trial, just to make sure Sarah was okay with her. It was fair enough, but still nervewracking. Matt apparently had full faith that everything would be fine though, and had already given her all the details. Drop off was between 8.30am and 9am, and pick up was at 2.30pm – Matt was happy for her to work from his house on the days she didn’t have to go into campus, to save travelling back and forth, which she was absolutely going to take him up on.  It almost felt too good to be true, that everything was working out the way it was, but she wasn’t going to let such a good opportunity to balance work and her degree slip through her fingers.

When Dhara arrived at Matt’s house, having been given a brief introduction to Sarah before Sarah excused herself to the living room, she tried not to let the nerves get to her. Matt looked lighter, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders, and she could only hope it was partly to do with her. He might be nearly 10 years older than her, but he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever laid eyes on, that was for sure. Not that she’d ever tell her new employer these completely inappropriate thoughts of course.

“Now, I have some meetings and final pre-season things to film and so on at the rink today. I’m hoping it’ll all be done in a few hours but it’ll be a good little start for Sarah to get used to me and my mom not being around. I’ve already explained everything to her, and I think she understands the concept of a nanny and that it was time for grandma to get back to her own life in Canada, but if there are any major issues then please call me,” he said seriously.

“I’m sure everything will be fine, especially if you’ve already talked with her, but I absolutely will call you if Sarah needs you. And please don’t rush home? You deserve to spend some time catching up with your friends. Team bonding, and all that, especially if someone suggests lunch. Sarah and I will be fine, I promise,” Dhara said firmly, but with a smile she hoped was encouraging.

Matt let out a shaky breath but nodded, and her heart ached for him. She could tell how much this was affecting him – it was obvious – but the whole reason for her being here was to make his life easier. She could do that, she knew it.

“Sarah, I’m going to the rink!”

She smiled to herself at the sound of fast-paced walking (not running inside the house was clearly a rule) and soon enough Sarah was clinging to her dad’s legs.

“Be nice to Dhara,” Matt said, smiling warmly.

“I’m always nice!” she said, pouting.

He just ruffled her blonde hair, nodding to Dhara with a shaky smile, giving Sarah one last hug before leaving the house. This was it – Dhara was officially responsible for the wellbeing of a child.

“I’m going back to colouring. You can come if you want.”

How generous. Dhara grinned to herself at the young girl’s candour, following her quietly through the house back to the living room where Sarah had a small stack of paper and colouring pencils laid out. Sarah seemed happy enough to thump back down onto the floor and continue with her drawing, silent but focused, and Dhara watched for a little while from the doorway. The most important thing for today – and the rest of this week – was for Sarah to feel comfortable in her presence. She’d never had any problems getting her cousins’ children to like her, so she could only hope the same gentle methods would work with this child.

Sarah didn’t seem to mind Dhara sitting down next to her, barely giving her a glance, allowing her to settle in quietly. So far so good. After a few minutes of Dhara watching her peacefully, Sarah slid a piece of paper over to Dhara, and looked up at her with blue eyes eerily similar to her father’s.

“I’m drawing a picture for daddy, to make him smile when he gets home,” Sarah said simply.

“That’s very kind of you. I’m sure he’ll love it,” Dhara said, melting on the inside at the sweetness.

Sarah side-eyed her briefly before seeming to deem Dhara’s answer acceptable.

“You should draw him one too. He likes my pictures so I’m sure yours will be fine,” she said, sliding over the colouring pencil box.

Kids. You had to love them.

“I will do my very best then,” Dhara said seriously.

Sarah just nodded, going back to her drawing with all the focus a six-year-old could. Dhara just smiled to herself, picking up a pink crayon to attempt to draw some flowers. This was a good start, right?

~

The first month of Dhara’s employment (and final year of her degree) flew by. Somehow, everything was going well so far. There were no dramas, no big issues, and her classes weren’t unmanageable with her new schedule. She could admit that it initially felt weird to be dropping a kid off at Kindergarten that wasn’t hers, especially so early on into knowing Sarah, but that first big smile her charge had given her at pick-up time made everything better. Like, genuinely her heart felt like it had puffed up in size – yeah that’s right, I made her smile – and everything had only gotten better from there. They’d even settled into a decent routine, to the point where Matt even joked that Dhara was becoming Sarah’s favourite person (apparently her bedtime stories were the best?) – and neither of them had even looked at her like she was crazy when she explained her work for her Computer Science Masters like most people tended to.

(“Daddy she’s so smart.” “I know sweetheart.” “I want to be as smart as Dhara when I grow up!” “Well then you’d better show me the new spellings you learned at Kindergarten today.”)

She’d only needed to stay an extra night in the guest room once so far for a roadtrip, which also felt weird, but Matt’s flight had been delayed so there really wasn’t another choice. Thankfully, he’d been there by the time Sarah woke up, so there had been no major tantrums, but the bedtime tears were still an experience she hoped to avoid as much as possible. After looking at Matt’s schedule, she knew exactly how many roadtrips he was going to be on, so hopefully she could come up with some ideas for what to do if that ever happened again.

There were many things she was learning in this new world of being a nanny.

She knew she’d be learning something new tonight too. It was the first game of the pre-season and Matt was in the line-up to play. Traditionally, Sarah always went, and tonight was no exception. Dhara had been hesitant to accept the ticket initially, content with dropping Sarah off with the WAGs she knew and picking her up at the end,  because she was quite literally just the nanny - but Matt insisted. He also insisted that Sarah wanted her there too, and how was she supposed to say no to that?

The plan would be that Dhara and Sarah would take the train over to the arena with plenty of time to spare ahead of warmups (so Sarah could hold her newly-made poster up against the glass), and then Matt would drive them all back to the Martin house – with the late timings, Dhara would need to stay late again. At least this time she had enough clothes in her overnight bag packed.

Nerves washed over Dhara as she entered the UBS Arena, but with Sarah chattering away, holding tight to her hand, it wasn’t too difficult to cover her nerves with a smile. She’d already met Kristy Cizikas – the teammate’s wife who covered looking after Sarah during Dhara’s class once every two weeks – so she would at least know one friendly face. Sarah led the way to the family suite, Dhara making sure her pass was clearly on display so no-one thought she was a fraud, and soon enough they arrived to a blonde-haired sea.

“Dhara! There you are!”

Kristy. Good.

She was thankful for the instantly-warm welcome – she was so out of her comfort zone that it wasn’t funny. Tonight really was her first time being thrown in at the deep end. At least she’d have a break soon to collect her thoughts when everyone in the suite (who wanted to) would head down to the ice for warm-ups. She could do this. She could totally do this. It helped that Kristy introduced her around the group, Grace Lee in particular making her feel at ease with her beaming smile.

The game itself was electric. Dhara mostly kept her eye on Sarah playing with the other kids in the family suite – you know, as it was her job – but by the start of the third period Sarah had fallen asleep on her lap, leaving her free to watch her first ever game of ice hockey with her full attention. Grace helped her out by murmuring along some of the rules and pointing out names of people that Dhara didn’t know yet, and she just felt herself getting fully entranced. She’d never seen anything so graceful and yet so physical. And the speed!

Dhara felt like a bit of an idiot for gasping when Matt full-body checked a player from the opposing team into the boards with a load crash, immediately throwing his gloves off to fight him, her eyes wide as Matt easily took him down to the ice. Fuck, that was hot. Why was that so hot? She could only thank her dark skin for hiding the worst of her blush as Grace and Kristy smiled knowingly at her. Whatever, they didn’t know anything. They could infer all they liked.

That didn’t mean her eyes stopped tracking Matt every second he was on the ice though.

“How was she tonight? Truly?”

Dhara smiled up at Matt, shifting a sleeping Sarah up on her hip as Matt unlocked the front door.

“She was so good. The way her face lit up when you saw her sign in warmups? She didn’t stop talking about it for ages. And she fell asleep on me during the third period so I just let her nap, I hope that’s okay,” Dhara said.

“Of course it is. I’m happy that she feels comfortable enough to do that around you!” he said, smiling.

She was too. She really was.

“I’ll put Sarah to bed, if you want to sort out your bandage?” she offered.

The cuts on his knuckles from his fight had needed a couple of stitches and would need to be cleaned then covered for at least one night, he’d told her that much on the drive home.

“You’re the best,” Matt said, nodding.

Dhara just grinned and headed up the stairs. It didn’t take her long to carefully lay Sarah down in her bed, pulling off her shoes before tucking the duvet over her. But as she slowly crept out of the room and gently shut the door, she could hear Matt cursing in the bathroom, and she frowned.

“Matt?” she whispered, trying not to wake up her young charge.

He cursed again, so she knocked on the bathroom door, and smiled slightly as he cursed in surprise and slowly opened the door.

“The bandage is caught on the dried blood in the stitch and I can’t get it off. Don’t want to rip it,” he murmured when her head poked around the door.

“Let me?” she offered, slowly walking into the room.

Dhara looked up at him through her lashes, holding her hand out, and Matt silently placed his hand in hers. His skin was warm, if a little callused, and it was all she could do to bite her bottom lip as she gently eased the bandage off his knuckles. Matt didn’t take his hand away as she reached for the cotton ball he’d already dipped in the cleansing liquid, allowing her to gently dab at the stitches until they were clean. The two of them stood close together, silent, only their hands touching, and yet somehow this was more intimate than she’d ever been with any man. It was intoxicating to be allowed to take this level of care with him. It was only when she gently pressed down the edges of the fresh bandage that she caught eyes with him once more, the intense blue making her breath catch in her throat, and she forced herself to break out of the moment.

Because it was a moment, and she didn’t know if it thrilled her or terrified her.

“That should be okay now,” she murmured, finally letting go of his hand.

“Thank you, Dhara. I appreciate it,” he said, voice just as soft.

Intoxicating.

Dhara just smiled, nodding her head as she slipped out of the bubble he’d unknowingly boxed her into, and stepped out of the bathroom with a racing heart. She needed to pull herself together. She needed to pull herself together, fast. Otherwise she was going to run the risk of ruining everything.

~

“So give us the details then.”

Matt took a sip of his beer, before frowning at Casey.

“What are you talking about?”

Casey shared a glance with Anders, who just smirked and shook his head incredulously. What?

“Seriously, what details?” Matt asked.

“About Dhara?” Anders prompted.

“Kristy and Grace told us all about meeting her at the game last week, how she was super sweet with Sarah and how much Sarah adored her. What really caught our attention was that they told us about her reaction to your fight. How her eyes lit up, how she gasped, how she was on the edge of her seat,” Casey said innocently, although the sparkle in his eyes was anything but.

“Shut up, she did not,” Matt grumbled.

Their words lit something inside of his though. It was just typical that they waited to interrogate him until they were all six beers deep at Casey’s house, Kristy and Grace having a girls night slash kids sleepover with some of the other WAGs, including Sarah. They were gossip vultures, the lot of them.

Did she really react like that?

He hadn’t been able to get that night out of his mind. The way Dhara came into the bathroom so carefully, like she was trying not to spook a horse. How she held his hand so gently, her skin surprisingly warm and soft. How her cleaning touch was so light that he’d barely felt it, how her ministrations hadn’t hurt at all. How her gaze had been so intense when they caught eyes that he’d felt his breath catch in his throat.

Matt hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that moment they’d shared, and it was driving him crazy knowing there was no way she was having the same thoughts.

But then again, if Casey and Anders were right, if Kristy and Grace were right, maybe she was?

“Bud, you know Grace wouldn’t gossip if she didn’t think there was some truth to it,” Anders mused.

He wasn’t wrong there.

“Dhara is my nanny. Sarah’s nanny. Everything is completely professional,” Matt said firmly.

“Everything is completely professional?” Casey prodded.

“Yes?”

At the hesitance in his tone, Casey and Anders grinned.

“I knew it!” Casey hooted.

“What happened?” Anders asked, eyes lighting up.

“Nothing! Literally nothing has happened. She cleaned the stitches on my knuckles for me because I couldn’t get the bandage off, that’s it,” Matt said sharply.

“Booooooo.”

“Seriously, don’t make it a thing. I don’t want her thinking that I’m some kind of creep,” he groaned.

“Now why would she think that, if you weren’t having creepy thoughts?” Anders teased.

Matt sent them both a flat look, making them hoot with laughter.

“Aww you have it so bad!” Casey cackled.

“You two are the worst. I don’t know why we’re friends,” he muttered.

“You love us,” Anders grinned, toasting him with his beer bottle.

Matt just stuck his tongue out in response, taking a big swig of his own drink. He needed to nip all of this in the bud. There was no way he wanted this to get back to Grace and Kristy, and then back to Dhara. Absolutely not.

“She is pretty,” Casey said, smirking slightly, “Kristy said her smile and her laugh lit up the whole room.”

“And Grace said that Sarah worships her, literally fell asleep on her without a care in the world,” Anders added.

They both knew his weaknesses so well. Matt groaned, tilting his head back, before staring his friends down.

“Enough, okay? Yes, Dhara is beautiful. And smart. And so beyond capable with Sarah that it isn’t funny. But I’m not going to be that guy, okay? I’m her boss and I’m not even going to consider crossing that professional boundary, understood? That’s not cool,” Matt said seriously, “I’m not that guy.”

“We know you’re not,” Casey mused, holding his hands up in surrender.

Anders just nodded his agreement. “We only tease you because we love you. And like I said, I wouldn’t have brought it up if Grace hadn’t seen something herself.”

“Just…don’t make it a thing? I don’t want to make Dhara uncomfortable around me. Sarah adores her and that’s all that matters,” Matt sighed, mostly in defeat.

“If you’re sure, then we won’t,” Anders said.

“But we reserve the right to change our minds later,” Casey grinned.

“Oh my god, get me another drink,” Matt groaned.

Seriously, the worst.

~

Sparkling lights, tinsel, and candy canes everywhere – it only meant one thing. Christmas was coming. With continuous snowfall and the way that she couldn’t escape Christmas songs anywhere, Dhara could hardly deny its upcoming presence, especially with how excited Sarah was getting. As usual, Dhara wasn’t going home for the two weeks break, and the moment Matt found out that her roommate was going home (leaving Dhara alone), he insisted that she came over to spend Christmas day with him, Sarah, and his parents.

(“Matt, no, I can’t intrude.” “No-one should be alone on Christmas.”)

He even tried to offer to pay her for coming over, with that she put her foot down. Christmas was Christmas, after all. In the end, they decided that, with her last class of the semester on the 19th, Dhara would stay over from the 20th to the 22nd, until his parents arrived on the 23rd. They would take over taking care of Sarah with Matt not getting home until late in the evening of the 23rd, and then Dhara would come back over on the 25th, leaving again in the evening of the 26th. It was a lot of back and forth, she could admit, but she’d never had someone in her life so insistent that she spend the holidays with them – and the fact that it was Matt? She couldn’t find it in her heart to say no, especially when he got Sarah and her puppy dog eyes on the case.

Somehow, travelling on the trains on Christmas Day wasn’t as bad as she feared, even with her overnight bag and holdall of gifts. It was only lightly snowing on her short walk to Matt’s house, so she wasn’t fully shivering when she knocked on the door but she was definitely glad that Matt didn’t take too long to open it.

“Hey, you made it! Why didn’t you call me from the station? I would’ve picked you up!” he said quickly beckoning her inside.

“I’m used to the walk now, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” she shrugged, unwinding the scarf from her neck.

“You would never have disturbed me. You’re…never mind, come into the kitchen, my mom’s making hot chocolate,” Matt murmured.

She left her bags in the hallway after taking off her boots, coat, and woolly hat, nervously following Matt into the kitchen. Why was she so nervous to meet his family?

“Guys, Dhara’s here!”

“Dhara! You made it!” Sarah cried out happily.

She knelt down to give her charge a big hug, grateful for the friendly face, before standing up with a nervous smile.

“I’ve heard so much about you – I’m Dawn,” Matt’s mom said, big smile on her face identical to Matt’s.

“And I’m Jim. It’s great to finally meet you,” Matt’s dad said warmly.

Was it really that easy?

“I’ve heard only good things about you too. Thank you for letting me join your family Christmas,” she said, smiling back at them.

“Letting you? I had to practically beg you,” Matt teased.

“Because I see you all year round – your parents don’t get that luxury,” she shot back, still smiling.

“I like you already,” Jim laughed.

“Drinks anyone?” Matt mused.

Once the hot chocolate was passed around, they made their way into the living room, Dhara having grabbed her holdall on the way with the gifts.

“I like your scarf, Dhara,” Sarah piped up, once she was settled on a big cushion on the floor.

Dhara’s fingers brushed over the lightweight blue patterned material draped over her chest and pinned in pleats at her shoulders with a smile. She didn’t usually indulge in her South Asian heritage with her outfits, but her holidays it always felt like a must. She might be wearing a casual plain grey sweater underneath, with light wash jeans, but the chanderi dupatta added a much-needed level of elegance – a casual but respectful outfit. Her mother had loved it at least when she called her this morning, and it was nice to know that Sarah did too.

“Thank you! It’s a dupatta – many South Asian women wear them in many different styles. I like to wear a chanderi dupatta, this lightweight patterned silk, over casual clothes to add a little something extra,” she said, smiling.

“It’s really pretty. Never seen you wearing anything like that,” Matt said softly.

“Thanks,” Dhara said, thankful her dark skin hid her blush, “I tend to only wear dupattas for special occasions. I don’t practice Sikhism as much as I did back in LA, and even then not nearly as much as my mother would’ve liked us all too.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked.

“Sarah!” Matt frowned.

“It’s okay, really,” she said, reassuring, “Well, my upbringing was fairly mixed. My mom’s parents came over from Punjab when they were newly married – my Baba Ji, my grandpa, is an Engineer. My mom and her brothers were born and raised Sikh in Los Angeles. Mom met Dad in university and they fell in love. The only problem was, he was Christian. Or at least, loosely Christian – and very white. While my mom didn’t care about all of that, because she’d fallen head over heels for him and him for her, her parents didn’t approve. She left home and married him anyway, and we haven’t really seen much of my mom’s side of the family ever.”

“But they fell in love!” Sarah cried.

“Culture and religion are complicated things,” Dhara said simply, smiling sadly, “my mom knew what she was giving up, she was very brave. She still had a lot of her friends in the community so she had that connection, and Dad’s family is huge and loud and welcoming, so she never felt alone. She raised me with a knowledge of Sikhism and the welcome to join her in celebrating any holidays I wanted to, but my parents left me to forge my own path, which I did. I have some contact with cousins on my mom’s side thanks to Instagram, so it’s not all a loss. I like to think I get the best of both worlds.”

She couldn’t have asked for more with her upbringing, she knew that. Dhara had been given the world, and been taught kindness for others always, and had an education that others could only dream of, and all the love she could ever want from her parents. She also knew that sometimes her mom struggled but that she had her husband, Dhara’s dad, to rely on for strength. Her mom truly was a hero of hers, and she could only be grateful for everything she’d done for her.

“Thank you for sharing that with us. It can’t always be easy, being so far away from your family,” Matt said softly.

“It isn’t always, no. But I’m following my passion with my degrees, and they understand that,” Dhara nodded, smiling at him, “Besides, we have modern technology, no?”

Matt and his parents just laughed, making her smile a bit wider.

“But Dhara, what about…”

“How about we give Dhara a break from interrogation and pass out gifts, hm?” Dawn mused, interrupting Sarah.

Dhara laughed, shrugging, Sarah just pouting.

“You can ask more questions later okay?” Matt said, glancing up at Dhara to make sure she was okay with that.

Dhara just nodded. The way he checked to confirm with her sent out butterflies she tried desperately to ignore. This was not the time.

As they all passed around presents, Dhara had been pleasantly surprised to learn that she had gifts to open too. She hadn’t expected anything from his parents but they’d still surprised her anyway, with a gorgeous earrings and necklace set that felt fancier than anything she owned in New York. Sarah had gifted her a set of pens and a pretty notebook (which she’d picked out herself, apparently) and she’d looked so pleased with herself that it warmed Dhara’s heart.

For Matt’s mom, she’d gifted her a set of Indian spices, because Matt had told her in passing that his mom liked to cook from all different cuisines – so she’d bought her cumin seeds, coriander powder, garam masala, turmeric, and green cardamom. Dawn had looked so touched when she opened them, giving Dhara a big hug that she hadn’t been expecting. Matt’s dad looked just as pleased by his craft beer tasting tour back home in Ontario, and promised to give her reviews of every single one.

Sarah had squealed in happiness at the book Dhara bought her. A Is for Awesome: 23 Iconic Women Who Changed the World. It was important for Sarah to learn about how powerful she could be as a woman, and from Matt’s smile he seemed to agree with her.

For Matt – she’d bought him a cufflink box.

“I’m always losing cufflinks on roadtrips. You remembered,” Matt murmured.

The way her heart fluttered. Wow.

“And now you have a place to store 4 sets, wherever you go,” Dhara said softly.

“Thank you, this is…I love it,” Matt grinned.

Well now she was a goner.

Her last gift to open was from Matt. Again she hadn’t expected anything from him – he was opening his home to her on Christmas, after all – but when she opened the instant camera, Fujifilm Instax Mini with multiple packs of film cards, her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.

“Matt, this is…wow. This is too much!” she gasped.

“You’ve talked about wanting to preserve memories and I thought this would be a fun way to do it,” he shrugged.

A fun way to preserve memories. A whole ass camera. This was just like him.

“Thank you,” she murmured, smiling so widely at him that it hurt.

Matt just smiled helplessly at her in return.

“Can you tell me more about Sikh stuff now please?”

Sarah’s pleading interruption made her laugh, saving her from the explosion of butterflies in her stomach. “If your family don’t mind, I’m happy to tell you more about Sikhism, sure.”

Dhara looked at Matt and his parents, who all nodded and smiled at her. Well, here goes nothing. Time for a basic lesson in Sikhism.

“Sikhism was founded by Guru Nanak around 500 years ago in an area called the Punjab. That’s where my grandparents came from on my mother’s side, if you remember – Punjab is an area which spans part of India and Pakistan now, and they come from the Indian side of it. There are lot of different elements to Sikhism, but some of the main things that Sikhs believe are that your actions are important, and you should lead a good life. You should keep God in your heart and mind at all times, live honestly and work hard, treat everyone equally, be generous to those less fortunate than you, and to serve others,” Dhara listed.

“That sounds really nice,” Sarah said, smiling.

Dhara smiled back at her, heart warmed by the sweet words.

“It is, yes. I don’t attend temple, the Gurdwara, as much as I should, but it’s always really peaceful there. I always try to go for Lohri, the harvest festival in January, and I definitely celebrate Diwali in late October because my family always has, but there are many more holy days that Sikhs commemorate,” Dhara explained.

“Can you tell me about them?” Sarah asked hopefully.

Dhara glanced around the room, seeing Matt and his parents listening raptly, and nodded.

“Of course I can! Firstly…”

~

“Watch yourself, Matthew.”

Matt lifted his head from where he was washing up, seeing his mom standing next to him with a dish towel in hand. His dad, Sarah, and Dhara were all in the living room still, playing Go Fish, but Matt and his mom had moved to the kitchen to tackle at least some of the dishes.

“What?” he said, frowning.

“Don’t think I can’t see the way you look at Dhara,” she said pointedly.

Fuck.

Matt took a shaky breath and opened his mouth to protest, but his mom quickly shook her head.

“She is a lovely young woman with a bright future. Unless you can see marriage in the cards, then don’t mess her around. She deserves the best,” his mom said firmly.

Oh.

Oh.

“Yes, yes she does,” he murmured.

~

With Matt’s parents staying through until the 2nd January, the day before her classes started up again, Dhara had the full rest of the week to herself. The only thing she had planned was getting through work for her Database Management Systems class, but Dawn and Jim had insisted that she came to the game with them on the 28th. That whole evening had been so wholesome; it was clear exactly how much Matt’s parents loved and supported him, and to see his smiling face when they went down to see him after the game? Heartwarming.  Matt had also asked her to come to the New Year’s Eve party that Anders and Grace were throwing – his parents weren’t going to that, but he’d paid for them to have a nice dinner in Manhattan for their own celebration. Dhara almost said no to Matt’s invitation (because who was she to go to a private event like that?), but when he said that Grace had invited her specifically, she couldn’t resist. An invite from Grace Lee to her own party was not something that someone turned down. She knew she’d made the right decision when Grace texted her to say how excited she was that Dhara was coming, which made her feel like a little bit less of an intruder.

What was it with these people and forgetting she was literally just the nanny?

“You look nice,” Matt murmured.

“No daddy, Dhara looks beautiful,” Sarah said firmly.

Dhara laughed, ducking her head shyly just in time to miss the way Matt blushed. Her black sparkly long-sleeved bodycon dress was something that she kept on hand as the only semi-formal thing she had in her closet – so it was really her only option for the Lee’s New Year’s Eve party tonight.

“You’re right, my apologies Sarah,” Matt mused, grinning, “You do look beautiful, Dhara.”

Even if it was prompted by his daughter, it was still spine-tingling to hear Matt say those words.

“You’re too kind, both of you,” she laughed, shaking her head.

Matt just winked before kneeling down to help Sarah put her shoes on, leaving Dhara more flustered than she’d ever been in her life. Thankfully they didn’t have to wait long for the car service that Matt had insisted on, and soon enough their party of three arrived.

“Ah, welcome Martins and Nicholls!”

Dhara giggled at Anders’ booming voice, Matt rolling his eyes fondly as they entered the house.

“Thanks for having us,” Matt mused, handing over a bottle of very nice bourbon to his Captain.

Anders just grinned. “You’re always welcome, bud. Grace is in the kitchen making cocktails for the girls – we’re not invited to that, Matt, but you should definitely head in there so you don’t miss any good gossip, Dhara.”

“Oh, but Sarah…”

“Sarah can stick with me while we go and say hi to all her uncles before they get too drunk, hm?” Matt suggested.

“Drunk Uncle Casey is funny,” Sarah giggled.

“That settles it then!” Anders said cheerfully.

He pointed Dhara in the direction the kitchen and whisked Matt and Sarah away, leaving Dhara reeling. This wasn’t what she had expected at all – and now she was being shuffled over to the WAGs like she had any right to be there?

“Dhara! There you are! Grace is just finishing a fresh batch of mojitos – join us!”

She let out a shaky breath at Kristy’s happy exclamation, but followed her with a smile. She could totally do this. She could go with the flow, especially with Matt’s insistence, and she could just get back to watching Sarah after this drink, right? If Matt was okay with it?

In truth, nothing happened the way she thought it would over the night. While she did return back to watching over Sarah, all of the other WAGs with kids insisted they she took breaks to enjoy herself because they could all chip in to watch the kids. It did make her feel weird because hello, it was literally her job to nanny, but Matt’s happy face every time she took a break to socialise was too strong to resist. The main thing that struck her though was how much she stuck out like a sore thumb. Not just in terms of appearance – she figured she was going to be one of the only people of colour there – but just in terms of importance? Not even all the team was here – the youngest ones were off clubbing apparently, which made Dhara all the more aware of how intimate this gathering was. She didn’t belong here, not in this world. What was her life coming to?

She didn’t know if Matt’s presence helped either. All through the night he made she sure had enough to drink (she stuck to water or soda after that first lethal mojito from Grace) and enough to eat. He included her in every conversation, introduced her to people she hadn’t met yet, and checked in on her when she was watching Sarah. Every time she could see a couple of his teammates and/or the WAGs smirking slightly – but not in a mean way. And certainly not mocking her. It was confusing to say the least, like the lines were blurring without giving her any way to read the meaning of the situation, and it was all she could do to try to let it go. Matt was just being a gentleman, that was all.

When it came to a couple of minutes until the ball drop though, Dhara found herself squished onto a sofa in front of the TV that Anders was setting up, with Sarah fast asleep on her lap and Matt sitting down at her side.

“Champagne?” Matt said, holding out a second glass.

“I suppose one glass couldn’t hurt to bring in the new year,” Dhara mused.

She tried to ignore the way her stomach fizzled as their fingers brushed. Eventually, with just 30 seconds to spare, the living room was packed with party guests, Dhara essentially pressed fully up into Matt’s side. All she could do was remember to breathe, keeping her focus anchored on Sarah to distract herself from the warmth of his thigh against hers. It was intoxicating to say the least, and she was grateful at least for the noise of the room drowning out her thoughts.

“3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

As fireworks exploded across the screen and out the windows, and couples embraced all around the room, Dhara’s breath caught in the throat as she looked up at Matt to see him already looking down at her.

“Happy New Year, Dhara,” he murmured.

“Happy New Year,” she said softly back.

The intensity in his eyes made fire burn through her skin, barely softened by the champagne she poured down her throat. The way he looked at her…it almost felt real.

~

Dhara’s birthday was always a strange time of year for her. She never did anything massive to celebrate it, just casual dinner and drinks with friends and a phone call with her parents, but this year it fell at the end of January on a Saturday, at the end of Matt’s bye week. He had no other plans that spending time with Sarah anyway, so he gave her the week off to relax.

Relax, hah.

She had her thesis proposal to finish, with the final submission of the full finished thing due at the beginning of May, but she’d managed to sort out the data she wanted to use in the first half of January – so she was able to use her week off from nannying to finish the proposal. She holed herself up in her bedroom, surrounded by drinks and snacks, barely taking any breaks other than to reassure her roommate that she was still alive, until she submitted it to her supervising professor.

It was worth it, to feel like she’d accomplished something she was proud of.

Dhara emerged from her ‘coding cave’ the day before her birthday, her roommate shoving her straight into the shower while she ordered them both Thai food to celebrate. It felt good to have a little time to actually relax before her birthday, because before dinner and drinks with her friends, Matt had planned a surprise lunch for her.

She should have expected the restaurant he chose to be a fancy one. She’d never eaten anywhere so nice, not even when her parents came up for her undergraduate degree graduation.

“I have one more surprise for you,” Matt announced, just as he paid the bill, “if you have time to come back to the house with us.”

Sarah was basically wriggling in her seat, quietly begging please please please, and how could Dhara say no to that? All through the drive back to Matt’s house, Sarah was whispering to him and giggling away, making Dhara smile to herself. Seeing the young girl so excited made her excited – and after the incredible surprise Christmas gift he’d gotten her? She could only hope it wasn’t something crazy.

“Okay Sarah, you go ahead and open the door while I make sure Dhara isn’t peeking,” Matt said with a smile.

“What,” she said flatly.

Matt just smiled innocently, stepping behind her, and it was all Dhara could to do gasp as he gently placed his hands over her eyes from behind. Fuck.

“Door’s open daddy!”

“Okay sweetheart, why don’t you take Dhara’s hands and slowly guide her indoors,” Matt instructed, “if you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah sure, go for it,” Dhara laughed.

As if her today could get any stranger than this. So with Sarah’s small hands in hers and Matt’s large hands over her eyes (his cologne smelled so good this close, it was unreal), Dhara was slowly guided into the Martin house, taking heed of Sarah’s instructions not to bash into things, until she was standing in what she was sure was the rarely-used dining room. Matt and Sarah always preferred to eat at the kitchen island, but she knew where this room was. Why was she here?

“Ready?” Matt asked.

“Ready. I think,” Dhara mused.

Sarah let go of her hands at the same time as Matt removed his, and as soon as she opened her eyes, her breath caught in her throat. What the hell. In front of her, on the dining room table, were two computer screens, high definition and huge, with a docking station and all the appropriate wires to connect them to a laptop. To her laptop? What the hell.

“Matt…” she breathed.

Sarah just giggled at her reaction before skipping out of the room, leaving them alone. Leaving Dhara with her mind whirling.

“I know you were talking about how it’s easier to see your code side by side, and rather than doing the split screen thing you have been doing on just your laptop, I thought this would be more helpful,” he explained.

He remembered that from her rambling? He was listening?

“I can’t believe you bought me two computer screens. And a docking station. This is too much, Matt, really. I can’t accept them,” she murmured.

This was so personal – no-one had ever paid attention to her like this, and it was coming from him?

“Hey, no, this is important for you. For your work. I want to make sure that you have everything that you need to finish your degree in the best way possible – you’ve done so much for us and I just wanted to do this little thing for you. Besides, you only turn 25 once, right?”

“This isn’t little, Matt. And I’m just a nanny, I’ve barely done anything,” Dhara protested.

“If that’s all that you think you are to Sarah, and to me, then I’m clearly not doing enough to show you differently,” he said firmly.

The tone of his voice made her shiver in all the right ways.

“Matt, I…”

She trailed off at the intense look he was giving her.

“Happy birthday, Dhara,” Matt murmured, smiling softly.

It was all she could do to hug him tightly, sinking slightly into his chest as his arms immediately wrapped around her too. His shirt was soft against her cheek, that intoxicating cologne filling her senses, so much so that as she moved to break the hug, she impulsively kissed his cheek. Fuck. Dhara froze for a moment, stunned at her own audacity, but as she leaned back, Matt looked just as stunned – other than the pleased smile on his lips.

“Sarah! Come and say goodbye to Dhara so she can go out with her friends!” he called out, dropping his arms to let her go.

Dhara smiled at the sound of pattering footsteps, even more so as Sarah hugged her legs tightly.

“Dhara! You’re still my friend too, right?”

Be still her beating heart.

“Of course I am. I’ll be back here on Monday, ready for Kindergarten as usual,” she promised.

“Good. Happy birthday Dhara!” Sarah said happily.

Matt’s eyes never left her once.

~

With only a few weeks left until Spring Break, Dhara didn’t know where her final year of her degree was going. She knew she was going to use that Spring Break time to finish as much of her thesis as possible – and she knew she was going to be spending the whole week at Matt’s. Her new computer screens had stayed at his house as there was way more room for her to work there, and the couple of occasions she’d used them there for her classwork and he’d been home, he always smiled a pleased little smile like he was proud of himself for providing for her. It was…strange.

Everything was strange.

Since that kiss on the cheek, the dynamic between them had grown even more tense. Every stolen glance, brushed fingers, sweet smile, all felt like she was getting away with something forbidden. If anyone knew the illicit way she thought of Matt, she knew she’d burst into flames. And it wasn’t like she could be sure about how he felt about her either. Sure, he looked – but she was a beautiful Indian woman, and many men looked. It just felt different when she felt Matt’s eyes on her body, that was all.

She knew it was futile though. She was his nanny, nothing else. And she didn’t dare mess anything up with her employment now that she was only a couple of months away from turning in her thesis and finishing her Masters in Computer Science. She knew that she had to seriously start applying for jobs for starting in June, knew she didn’t want her years of hard work to go to waste – but it was so hard to decide exactly what she wanted when her head was spinning.

In a dream world, she’d have the career she’d always fantasised about, with Matt and Sarah by her side. But this was reality – girls like her didn’t get the career and the guy. She had to be realistic with herself, otherwise she was going to drown. She knew she had to stop indulging her daydreams and wake up – it wasn’t worth the inevitable heartache, as much as those dreams were nice to fall asleep to.

Still, when Spring Break arrived and Matt refused to let her nanny for him, rather than holing herself up in the bedroom of her tiny apartment, she holed herself up in Matt’s dining room, only emerging when Matt dragged her out to get some sleep or Sarah begged her to eat dinner with them. It was a weird but welcome change, to have people care about her wellbeing like that (her current roommate had her own weird work hours), so when she finally came out of her week of thesis writing and showered, she felt more human than she usually did after a data spree like that. It was refreshing to say the least.

“I can’t believe you spent your final ever Spring Break sitting at my dining room table,” Matt teased, handing her a plate of sliced apples.

Dhara stuck her tongue out at Matt as she happily took the plate, making him laugh.

“I needed to get my thesis finished as soon as possible so I can work on editing it and proving the data works. And I managed to get it nearly finished – now it’s just concluding it and all the weeks of editing to get done. Otherwise, all the hard work of the past three years will come to nothing, and I won’t be able to get a good job like I deserve,”

“Right, yes, of course. A job using computer science,” Matt nodded.

The way he said it though, and the way he looked like a kicked puppy, made her heart ache. “Matt, you knew I would only be able to work for you for a year. We talked about this, right from the start.”

“I know,” he said quickly, shaking his head with a smile, “It’s just going to be strange not having you around. You feel like part of the family already, and you know that Sarah loves you.”

Fuck.

“Matt, you’re killing me,” she murmured.

“Sorry,” he quickly said.

“No you’re not,” she said dryly.

“I am a little bit.”

Dhara huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “I love systems analysis and the increase in importance of connectivity to keep up with modern systems within growing infrastructure, and I would love to work in something like that because it’s where my passion is. I just…I hope I can find something that takes a chance on a nobody like me.”

“You are the furthest thing from a nobody, Dhara. You’re incredible and talented and a beautiful person inside and out, and you deserve the best. Whatever you need, whatever I can help with, I will, okay? References, making calls, whatever. You name it and I’m there.”

Her lips parted in surprise at his supportive words, eyes stinging with tears, but she found herself smiling. He was such a sweetheart.

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Dhara said, voice thick with emotion as she stepped forward to hug him.

She felt herself tremble slightly at the warmth of Matt’s hands on her back, even more so at the way he buried his face in her long thick curls, and tried to savour the feeling of his arms around her while she still could. How had their time together come to an end so quickly? How was this fair?

“Yeah, well, you deserve everything and more,” Matt said gruffly as he stepped back.

If only she could read his mind right now, to see what thoughts were running behind the complicated expression on his face, then she would do it in an instant.

“Thank you, Matt,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome. Make sure you start applying soon, okay?”

~

Network Operations Engineer – Madison Square Garden Entertainment – full time.

Submission – completed.

~

March.

April.

May.

His fleeting time left with Dhara was slipping through his fingers. The harder he tried to hold on, the faster the days flew by, until she submitted her thesis and the end was in sight. He couldn’t blame her for being excited – fuck knows he wouldn’t be sane after all the years of education she’d gone through – but he couldn’t stop the anxiety that built in his chest when he thought of how, soon, she wouldn’t be laughing and smiling and typing away at her computer in his house.

The Islanders had barely lost the first round of the playoffs, kicking and scraping to the last minute, and now with the whole summer stretched out in front of him, the thought of spending it without her was excruciating. But Matt knew he had no claim on Dhara, had no right to feel this way, no matter how she looked at him or smiled sweetly at him or that one time she’d kissed his cheek. She was everything he hadn’t known he’d wanted and needed, and now she was soon to be gone from his life forever.

He, Matt Martin, was completely gone for Dhara Nicholls, and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do about it.

“Dhara, come on, you’re not watching!”

Matt rolled his eyes fondly at Sarah’s petulant whining. “Sarah Dawn Martin, that’s not how we speak to our friends.”

He could see Dhara biting her lip to hide a smile as Sarah huffed dramatically.

“Dhara, please will you watch this with me? You said you would!”

“Of course, why don’t I just get us some more water each and we can settle in, hm?”

“Deal!”

Matt watched Dhara walk over to where he was putting together lunch in the kitchen, unable to stop himself smiling at her the moment she smiled at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

She giggled, shaking her head at herself as she pulled a couple of bottles of water out the fridge.

“How’s it going in there with the Drill Sergeant?” he mused.

“Oh it’s tough, but I think I’ll make it out alive,” she grinned.

Why was everything so easy between them? Nothing had ever been this easy before.

“Look, I, uh…I was hoping to ask you something?”

Dhara raised an eyebrow with a bemused smile but nodded, leaning against the counter next to him. “Go for it.”

“So you know it’s my birthday on Saturday?” he started.

Dhara just nodded, smiling.

“Okay cool, so I know you have things to finalise this week, with administration at your university, but Casey and the guys and girls have organised a night out and I was hoping you’d come? So yeah, come out with us, please,” he said, cursing himself for rambling.

“Oh, thank you – I just…what about Sarah?” she asked.

So sweet.

“She’s having a sleepover with a friend from Kindergarten, I already sorted that,” Matt said simply, smiling.

“Well in that case, I’d love to. If you’re sure?” Dhara said, uncertainly.

“Of course I’m sure. I want you out celebrating with me,” he said firmly.

While he couldn’t tell if she was blushing or not, the flash of surprise and something else in her eyes satisfied something inside of him that felt distinctly feral. He really was losing his control around her, wasn’t he?

“Then I’ll be there,” she said sweetly, “You only turn 35 once after all.”

Matt just grinned.

Saturday night rolled around quicker than he’d expected. The WAGs had taken Dhara out with them to get ready – the full works apparently, hair, make-up, and manicures, all of which he paid for Dhara because it was last minute – and when the ladies finally arrived to the restaurant he’d booked out for dinner? Well, it felt like he’d been punched in the face. It wasn’t that her dark curls were glossy and teased to volumed perfection. It wasn’t that her make-up was flawless, full glam like she never did herself. No, it was the emerald green mid-thigh strappy silk dress she’d clearly borrowed from one of the other ladies. The dress was so dainty and unlike anything he’d ever seen her wear, close enough to a negligee that it sent his mind reeling. He knew she had a great figure already, and that her legs were long and toned, but seeing them like this? It was mindblowing. And, obviously, it had taken everything in his power not to drool or let his jaw drop.

Naturally he missed Casey and Anders smirking at their wives and receiving triumphant grins in response from Grace and Kristy. Dhara’s sweet greeting and warm hug made everyone else in the room disappear.

Still, after dinner and going to a couple of bars, they ended up in a night club nearing midnight, Anders having booked a couple of tables upstairs in the VIP area. The whole group had a couple of shots together, toasting Matt’s 35th birthday, before the WAGs all dragged Dhara off to dance with them. From their table he could just about see her in the middle of the dancefloor, looking like she was having the time of her life, body swaying and moving in a way that had his full attention. Captivating.

He watched her on and off for the next half hour, switching between talking to the guys, sipping on his whisky and coke. But it wasn’t until Casey thumped down next down next to him and clapped him on the shoulder with a huff that he realised anyone had noticed.

“Come on man, just go down to the dancefloor and put us all out of our misery,” Casey groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Matt frowned.

“You’re pining after Dhara and it’s driving us crazy,” he retorted.

“We’ve talked about this. She’s my nanny,” Matt said sharply.

“Yeah okay, like that even matters. I’ve seen the way you look at her and Kristy’s seen the way she looks at you, and it’s not like she’s going to be your nanny for much longer, right?” Casey smirked.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Fuck her.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Matt all but growled.

Casey just grinned, clearly getting the answer he wanted, goading Matt just like he intended. Damn it, he really did know him too well.

“Love you too bud. Stop being a coward,” Casey just snickered, patting Matt on the shoulder, a clear indication to just get out of there.

And if the desire to dance with Dhara hadn’t won out, he knew he’d be scowling at his friend. Instead, he found himself drifting down the stairs from the VIP area to where he lasted spotted Dhara in the crowd, and soon enough he found her. She looked like a goddess: swaying from side to side, multi-coloured lights brushing across her brown skin like a Picasso painting, and he felt himself mesmerised. She turned her head slightly at the prompting of Grace, wide smile stretching across her lips when she spotted him.

“Mind if I join you?” Matt said, raising his voice.

“Of course not birthday boy!” Dhara said happily.

Matt stepped closer to her, barely registering the rest of the ladies grinning at each other and slipping away through the crowd to leave them alone. His attention was completely captured – Dhara’s hips swaying so close to him were a massive distraction – and it wasn’t until a familiar song started playing that he finally looked up at her face.

“I love this song!” she said happily.

Dhara turned her back to him, confusing him slightly, until she looked back over her shoulder expectantly. He knew they’d both had a fair amount of alcohol to drink at this point, but her eyes were clear enough – dance with me. He could barely control himself as he stepped up behind her fully, hands on her hips, pulling her gently back against him, the soft moan that sounded from her lips making him feel wild. Fuck, he could feel himself stirring where his crotch was pressed just above her ass, even more so as she continued to sway her hips.

“Come, lay me down, 'Cause you know this, 'Cause you know this sound

In the middle of the night, In the middle of the night, Just call my name, I'm yours to tame...”

“Matt,” Dhara murmured, looking up at him.

He followed his base instincts for once, staying silent as he used the grip he had on her hips to spin her around to face him, taking pleasure in the look of surprise on her face and the flash of lust in her eyes, swaying their bodies together again.

“…I'm wide awake, I crave your taste all night long, 'Til morning comes, I'm getting what is mine, You gon' get yours, oh no, ooh, In the middle of the night.”

“Matt please.”

It was all he could do to guide her quickly through the crowd to the edge of the dancefloor, to an empty spot against the wall, leaving them mostly in the shadow, the bright flashes of light illuminating them just about enough to see each other’s faces.

“Tell me to stop,” Matt murmured into her ear, hands threading into her thick curls.

“Kiss me,” she replied, lifting her head in challenge.

He didn’t hesitate to press his lips to hers, kissing her just as she’d demanded, his heart immediately soaring. Dhara moaned into his mouth, moaned again when he pushed her firmly up against the wall, kissing him back just as eagerly as her hands clutched at his shirt. It was like she melted against his body as he slid his tongue past her lips, fire zipping through his blood, his head swirling. Matt kissed Dhara over and over again, one hand leaving her hair to clutch at her hip, the silk of her dress driving him mad and doing nothing to mask the heat of her skin, and while the music washed over them, he wanted nothing more than to get her away from this crowded dancefloor and take her home.

Fuck, it was intoxicating how well she fit into his arms, how her body was moulded to his, how their tongues danced together as intimately as their bodies had done. In all the times he’d thought about kissing her, about holding her, nothing could compare to the real thing. Nothing could compare to this.

But he needed to know that it wasn’t just him, that she wasn’t just kissing him because she was drunk. He didn’t think he would survive that. The confused noise she made when he broke the kiss just about broke his heart though.

“Dhara, baby, I gotta know…”

He groaned, kissing down her neck, feeling like he was shaking apart at her soft moans.

“What, Matt?” she gasped as he nipped at her skin.

“You’re not…you’re not too drunk right now, right? You want this?”

“Matt, I’ve been drinking water throughout the night between drinks. I want this. I want you. I just didn’t know if you wanted me,” she said, shrugging with a sheepish smile.

She didn’t know if he wanted her?

He rested his forehead against hers, pressing her fully into the wall again so she could feel where he was half hard in his jeans. Dhara giggled, pulling him down into another kiss with her grip on his shirt, and Matt was all too happy to oblige her, knowing he’d never get enough of her now that he’d tasted her.

“It’s not just sex, baby, I swear. I want all of you,” Matt murmured, breaking their kiss again to suck on the thin skin behind her ear.

“You promise?” she asked softly into his ear, almost shyly.

“I promise,” he nodded, as serious as he could manage in this moment.

“Then take me home.”

“Yeah?” he grinned.

“Yeah, take me home Matt,” she grinned back.

~

Dhara woke with a soft groan, eyes feeling gritty and mouth as dry as an old sock. She blearily lifted her head, grabbing the glass of water on the side table and chugging it, body not recognising the weight of an arm over her waist until her head was a bit clearer.

An arm over her waist.

Over her bare waist.

Matt’s arm.

She let out a shaky breath as all the memories of the night before flooded into her head. Dancing intimately with Matt in the nightclub where anyone could see them. Making out on the side of the dancefloor. The two of them leaving the club without telling anyone, barely keeping their hands off each other in the uber back to his. Then a rush of lips and hands and teeth and bare skin, and waves of pleasure over and over again, crying out his name without a care in the world.

It was everything she’d ever dreamed over, and now, waking up in his bed with his bare body pressed to hers, it was her nightmare all the same.

She’d never acted like this before in her life. Never slept with a man she wasn’t dating. Absolutely never slept with her boss. What kind of trashy behaviour was that? How could he ever think she was worth his time if this is the way she acted the first time he showed interest? Fuck.

But she remembered his words too. How he checked that she wasn’t too drunk, that she wanted this. How he swore it wasn’t just sex, that he wanted her. How insistent he was on promising that it wasn’t just talk to get her into bed. And in between each of the many orgasms he brought her to, he checked in with her each time, making sure she was okay, just because that’s who he was.

He was Matt Martin, gentleman under a rough handsome exterior, and he wanted her.

None of that changed her insecurities though, how all of this was so out of character for her. Not to mention, she knew damn well that everyone knew what they did last night, why they left the club early, and wasn’t that mortifying? No, she needed some air, she needed to think. And to maybe put on some clothes she’d left in the spare room because there was no way she could wear Kristy’s tiny silk dress home in broad daylight.

With a shaky breath, Dhara gently picked up Matt’s arm, moving it off of her body, before slowly sitting upright. If she could just stand up without waking him it would be…

“Good morning. Going somewhere?”

Matt’s husky voice made her freeze, a wave of guilt washing over her, before she turned to face him, sheets clutched to her bare chest.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she murmured, more honest than she cared to be.

And if that wasn’t a metaphor for her life since she met him, what was?

He just frowned, sitting upright, and she couldn’t stop her gaze from raking over his chest, his biceps, his shoulders. Damn. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Where should I start?” Dhara said, feeling a little hysterical.

“I thought we were on the same page last night,” Matt said hesitantly, “I thought we both wanted this.”

“We did,” she said quickly, “I did. But…you know this doesn’t make any sense right?”

“Why not? You like me, I like you. You want me, I want you. It’s simple,” he frowned.

If only.

“It’s not simple at all, Matt. Not for me. It’s one thing for you to have the hots for your young pretty nanny, but to actually hook up with her? And to say you want something more? People are going to think I’m a gold digger! That I trapped you! That I manipulated my way into your life!”

“Dhara, all of that is bullshit. I don’t care what people think. Anyone who dares to call you a gold digger is an asshole who doesn’t know us. Everyone who knows us knows it isn’t like that at all. You’ve already got a job lined up waiting for you with Madison Square Garden Entertainment Group and you only just handed in your thesis – like, you’re going to be making your own money so it’s not like you only like me for that, right?”

“Well, no, but…”

“And you didn’t even know who I was when you first interviewed with me, so it’s not like you planned this, right?”

“Of course I didn’t, but…”

“If you don’t want anything more than this one night with me then obviously I would accept that. It would suck and the last few weeks of you working for me would be really awkward, but damn Dhara, I want a future with you,” Matt finished, taking one of her hands in his, the other still clutching at the bed sheet.

He really wants a future with her?

“You do?” she asked softly, almost as if she didn’t believe it.

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, smiling warmly, “I mean, I’m not sure what you see in me – I’m a 35 year old hockey player who’s nearing the end of his career, already divorced once with a kid who doesn’t have an off switch or a volume control, and I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life…but I just know that I want you in my life, however I can have you.”

“You’re the kindest, sweetest, most handsome man I’ve ever met, with a daughter who loves you so much, and you see me for more than the Indian girl stuck behind a computer screen. I…I never expected this, any of this Matt, but I want to try?” she said, biting her bottom lip.

The way his face lit up with sweet genuine smile made her heart soar.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’m going to do my best to make you so happy too, Dhara, I swear,” he grinned.

Dhara huffed out a laugh, laughing properly as he tugged the sheet out of her hand and guided her to lie down again in the messy bed, sliding his thick arm over her waist to tug their bare bodies together, lying face to face in the most intimate yet soft way she’d ever lain with another man.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter that her career was just about to kick off while his was in its hockey-twilight. And it didn’t matter than he was 10 years older than her, a whole wealth of life experience that she barely had. And it didn’t matter what people would whisper about them, or what judgemental looks she was get, or that her mother had never met him, or even that none of this would ever have happened in her wildest dreams.

All that mattered was that he wanted her, in his bed, in his family, in his life.

“Can I kiss you, baby?”

“Yes.”

~

Tagging a few people: @jostyriggslover96 @misshoneyimhome @senditcolton @fallinallincurls @2manytabsopen

[bibliophilea]

So... this isn't the first time I've seen people being incredibly mean to a whole section of the phandom. It's the first time in a while I've seen a post this bad in the main "danny phantom" tag, though. I have Thoughts™ that have been stewing for a while. Thoughts™ that shouldn't be put in the tags of someone else's post.

I'm not going to link anything. These are just my thoughts, raised to the forefront by recent posts in the main tag.

TLDR: I have two main Thoughts™:

No matter what you ship, I welcome you to this phandom. The folks who openly despise real people for shipping fictional things do not represent all of phandom. Y'all deserve better than being called shitty names. Your ships do not make you a bad person, and I personally welcome you.

To y'all who keep trying to draw a line in the sand to define who is "degenerate" or whose work is "degenerate": the moment you draw that line, you create a way for others to shove people behind that line. And the folks who usually get shoved behind that line and called "degenerate" are lgbtqia+ folks, and sa/csa survivors. It's happened before on LiveJournal and FFN, and it's happening now, irl, with book bannings across the USA (and especially in Florida). The only way to protect lgbtqia+ folks and sa/csa survivors from this abuse is to not draw a line in the sand at all. Don't call folks "degenerate" for any reason, unless you're ready to have that finger pointed back at you by a larger and more negative movement.

If you desire fuller context, it's below the cut.

First: no matter what you ship, I welcome you to this phandom.

The views of hatred and disgust that pop up in this phandom don't represent all of phandom. No fandom is perfect, and we'll always see some form of the "logic of disgust" from some folks in any fandom. But no matter what you ship, and whether or not I personally ship it, I welcome you. You will find no disgust from me as I am now.

If you dig backwards into my blog, you might find some anti sentiment. My introduction to fandom was first FFN, and then tumblr, back when I was more of a black-and-white thinker. I'm pretty sure I experienced some form of shock when I really started digging in to the Wild West that is fandom. I don't know if I ever expressed this shock online. But none of you deserve to be called "degenerates" over liking whatever fictional content you like. Y'all are a part of phandom, too, and any attempts to erase you or deride you are wrong.

We shouldn't be drawing lines in the sand and throwing people behind those lines. That's dangerous.

Second: to y'all who keep drawing lines in the sand, please consider the broader context around you.

The moment you draw a line in the sand to delineate between you and your group of people, and "them" and their group of "degenerates", people find ways to shove other folks, including you and your folks, behind that line. Historically, both in fandom and outside of fandom, the folks who get shoved ALWAYS include lgbtqia+ folks, and sa/csa survivors. We saw this with the purging of LiveJournal. We saw this with the multiple purges of FanFiction.Net. We haven't seen this with ao3, as far as I know; but their stance seems to be very anti-censorship for fandom-historical reasons.

Outside of fandom, we are seeing this now. I'm doing my senior capstone project on book bans. According to PEN America's data, over the past school year alone, 154 counties in 34 states have banned 1557 books 3362 times overall. Over 40% of those bans come from Florida counties. And much of the "reasoning" behind these bans is the same logic of disgust that fandom applies to "problematic ships": They call it pornographic and pedophilia. They call it harmful and age-inappropriate. They largely target books about lgbtqia+ people and people of color. And this year, they've also targeted "books on physical abuse, health and well-being, and themes of grief and death" - expanding their censorship to "protect the children".

Censorship doesn't protect anyone. Instead, it prevents people from holding genuine conversations with real people about the censored material.

And if you're not ready to have that conversation, that's fine! You do you! But don't create an environment where other people can't have that conversation. That only breeds the sort of black-and-white thinking that leads to 1406 book bannings in the state of Florida.

This is just speculation on my part: but I reckon every single person who supports those bans would love to ban the same content you want censored. And they'd call for you and the content you love to be lumped in with them.

We all deserve better than that. So please stop drawing lines in the sand.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 48)

Twenty minutes later, N came back online, he was dizzy, his entire body felt as though it was filled with radio static and his core was stuttering, seemingly still fluttering from what it had just experienced.

There was a warm body on top of him, collapsed on his chest, his arm moved on its own to wrap around her, his breath seemed to catch up and come out in some astonished half-choke.

Had that really just happened?

“U-uzi?” He found his voice though it was horse and husky, and he got no response, his girlfriend continuing to lie there limp. He began to get worried, had he overloaded her somehow? Fried her processors?

He lifted her up to face him, her visor reading [Reboot, Data Overload!] but she was very clearly still online, they were also still linked together, the wire shifting as what it was connected to moved. His worry dissipated, she was fine, just still rebooting.

In the meantime, he attempted to disconnect, he lightly pulled on the wire only to find that her port had locked him in, leaving him stuck there until she woke up. So he leaned back into the pillow and looked at the ceiling, basking in the afterglow.

Uzi's system gave a beep before a low groan left her lips, clearly feeling the same dizzy feeling that had hit him when he first woke up, N went to hold her steady, one hand on her back and the other on her cheek, tilting her head up to look at him.

“Welcome back.” He smiled at her, a laugh tugging on his lips as she slowly looked up at him, embarrassed at herself, even so, her eyelights seemed to smile at him.

“Hey…” She replied back, her voice soft and small, she tried to pull back, either to get off him or just to get a better look when the short cable connecting them stopped her, painfully yanking on both of them.

“Oh… we're still…” She said, still a little out of it, she lightly brushed over the wire, fingers tangling in it, N watched her curiously, she was acting… off.

“Are you okay?”

At that she seemed to look at him, really look at him, her eyelights scanning every inch of his face before something overtook her and she kissed him. It wasn't hungry or urgent like before, but it was passionate and they both found themselves melting into it before she pulled away.

He chuckled as they remained with their visors pressed together, it was clear that neither of them wanted to get up just yet, he wasn't sure he'd be able to anyway, his legs felt numb.

N couldn't help but run his hands along her silicone softly, in which she replied by humming in contentment and caressing the seam of his visor with her thumb.

Whatever enjoyment they got out of holding each other like this seemed to be enhanced, Uzi's edges were nonexistent, leaving her as vulnerable as she would ever be and N's anxiety had run off to find it, because that was gone for the moment too.

“I love you so much.” He almost whispered in her ear, causing her to giggle lightly and bury her head into the crook of his neck, he could feel her smiling against him, making a similar smile tug the corners of his mouth.

“I love you too.” She replied equally as softly, and she finally sat up as far as thr cable would allow, she grabbed the end of in before sighing and moving her hand directly underneath to where it plugged in. There was a small click. And they were disconnected, the wire immediately snapped back inside the compartment over his core, causing him to wince as it smacked his casing.

“S-sorry, probably should have warned you.” She manually closed her compartment, before reaching up and doing the same to his, the low buzzing of his core ceased, and the radio static of his limbs seemed to let up a little.

“It's alright.” He leaned forward and held her before taking them both back down to lay on the bed, she was still mostly on top of him, although now her head rested on his chest.

“Did that… really just happen?” She asked after a moment, sounding like she didn't belive herself, he gave her a breathy laugh and used his hand to massage her back, he felt… complete? satisfied? They had become one, he had known her every thought and feeling, and she knew his. It was… incredible.

“Mmhm.” He replied, squeezing her closer even if it was physically impossible, he gave her a kiss on the forehead and buried his face into her hair.

Had she always had a smell? Because right now she smelled like freshly forged metal and citrus, a strange but oddly pleasant smelling combo.

“That was amazing…” He breathed out, causing her to laugh again, she looked up at him, nervously glancing to the side.

“Good. I… was afraid I was bad… or something.”

He blinked, almost confused on how or why she'd ever think that.

“It wasn't bad, it wouldn't have ever been bad. It was with you, and you're so, so amazing.” He immediately voiced all these things, making her blush and kiss his visor again, which in turn made him lean down and kiss hers.

“You were too…”

“I didn’t really do anything.”

She looked at him incredulously.

“Are you serious? You wrote, I love you, like fifty times over my display code. That's all I could see!”

Oh, well he was being a little clumsy…

“At least you liked it?”

“Of course I did… you goob.”

Then there was silence for another few minutes, riding the high of their afterglow together, with Uzi ending up tracing small shapes on his chest and around his core, avoiding actually touching it.

N smiled, she was being so soft, her walls had been completely demolished for him, Even before, she would have been embarrassed she was touching him so freely, now she was doing it with a small smile on her face.

“That kinda tickles Zi.” He hummed as he pretty much did the same to her back, avoiding the scars in favor of tracing around them.

She stopped, not responding but curling into him and purring, triggering his own.

Then, as if waiting for the perfect moment. A wail broke through the house like a thunderclap, alerting to two parents to their charge, who had woken up alone on the couch and was very much not happy about it.

“Mm. She has your attitude.” N laughed as Uzi slapped him lightly, slowly rolling off him to crawl out of bed even if she was initially unsteady.

“Hush.”

She got dressed, although only in her skull pajamas and made her way to the living room where Tera was beating her fists into the couch cushions in a genuine tantrum.

“Oh Tera honey, it's okay.” Uzi scooped her up, black blanket and all and the toddler almost immediately settled down, looking up at her mother, albeit with squinted eyes, almost saying “how dare you leave me alone!”

“I'm sorry Jellybean, daddy and I lost track of time.” Uzi nuzzled her daughters visor, causing the girl to let out a peel of giggles as she did it back, clearly not holding much of a grudge.

“Least you don't hold a grudge like me…”

There was a knock at the door. Making Uzi jump and Tera to immediately look at the door in curiosity, it used to just make her cry, but at least now she seemed to understand that it meant someone new was here.

She looked down at herself, her pajamas ruffled her hair a complete wreck. She sighed, hopefully it was someone she knew, this wouldn't be as awkward.

“Coming.”

She made her way to the door, looking over at N who was still in the process of getting dressed, buttoning every single button on his coat took awhile…

She used her solver to pull the door shut for him, then she let the front door swing open. Tera resting mostly in one arm as the other was free to press the button.

Red eyes looked back.

She jumped back, startled. Her other hand immediately flew up to protect Tera's head as her tail immediately wrapped around mother and child, spines flared out and ready to impale the intruder.

The intruder also jumped back, and Uzi suddenly realized that the red eyes didn't belong to who she thought they did. For starters, this drone was clearly a dude.

“Sorry for the scare man! I'm Guy, I uh, work with N?”

Next ->

[nerdynarrator28]

Storm of the Heart-Tyler Owen’s x Reader PT. 3

Synopsis: Being a sister to one of the notorious storm chaser crews online was a lot, You were Boone’s Sister, you have always heard stories from him and watched all the videos when they were live storm chasing. One Day your Brother invites you to go Storm Chasing with him and the crew, what will happen during that time? Will you and a Certain Storm Chaser get close to each other?

Pairings: Tyler Owen’s x Reader

Word Count:667

Author Note: Thank you Everyone! Who has made my story an Hit! And for everyone enjoying it! I have decided to write a part 3 ❤️🤗 Enjoy!!

Six months had passed since you and Tyler officially became a couple. Your relationship had weathered its fair share of storms, both literal and metaphorical. Balancing your regular job with your growing passion for storm chasing – and Tyler – wasn't always easy, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Today marked a significant milestone: your first major chase as a full-fledged member of the team. You'd finally taken the plunge, quitting your job to chase storms full-time alongside Tyler and Boone.

As you prepped the equipment, you felt Tyler's arms wrap around you from behind. "Nervous?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

You leaned into him, smiling. "A little. But mostly excited."

"You've got this," he assured you, planting a quick kiss on your cheek before moving to help the others.

Boone approached, a mixture of pride and concern on his face. "Ready for your big debut, sis?"

You nodded, determination setting in. "Born ready."

The chase was unlike anything you'd experienced before. A massive supercell was spawning multiple tornadoes, keeping the entire team on high alert. You found yourself working in perfect sync with Tyler, calling out observations and helping navigate through the treacherous conditions.

As you tracked a particularly large tornado, Tyler's voice crackled over the radio. "We need to get closer for better data. Y/N, you up for it?"

Your heart raced with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Let's do it."

You maneuvered your vehicle closer to the twister, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The wind howled around you, debris flying past in a deadly dance.

Suddenly, a violent gust rocked your car. You fought to maintain control, your training kicking in. "Tyler, I'm losing grip here!"

"Hold on, I'm coming to you!" His voice was tense but steady.

As you struggled with the wheel, a memory flashed through your mind – Tyler teaching you emergency maneuvers, his hands guiding yours, his voice calm and reassuring. Drawing strength from that memory, you managed to steer the vehicle to safety.

When the storm finally passed, you sat in your car, hands shaking slightly. Tyler's vehicle screeched to a halt beside you, and he was at your door in seconds.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" His eyes were wild with worry as he helped you out.

You nodded, still a bit dazed. "I'm fine. That was... intense."

He pulled you into a tight embrace. "You were amazing out there. I've never seen anyone handle a situation like that so well on their first major chase."

Boone's voice interrupted the moment. "If you two are done with the romance novel scene, we've got data to collect."

You both laughed, the tension breaking. As you worked alongside the team to gather readings and assess the damage, you felt a profound sense of belonging. This was where you were meant to be.

Later that night, as the team celebrated another successful chase, Tyler pulled you aside. "I've got something for you," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

He handed you a small box. Inside was a beautiful pendant – a silver tornado with a tiny diamond at its heart.

"Tyler, it's gorgeous," you breathed.

He took the necklace, gently fastening it around your neck. "I wanted to give you something to commemorate your first official chase. And to remind you that no matter how chaotic things get out there, you'll always be the calm at the center of my storm."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you kissed him, pouring all your love and gratitude into the gesture.

Boone's voice once again broke the moment. "Alright, you two. Enough mushiness. We've got another system forming tomorrow, and I need my best team well-rested."

As you joined the others, Tyler's arm around your waist and your new pendant resting against your heart, you knew you'd found your true calling. Life with Tyler and the chase team would never be predictable or easy, but it would always be thrilling, passionate, and deeply fulfilling.

The road ahead might be fraught with dangers, both from the storms you chased and the challenges of balancing love and career. But with Tyler by your side and your newfound family of storm chasers supporting you, you were ready to face whatever cyclones life might throw your way

[drdemonprince]

I read your newsletter about "transmisandry" today. I'm a trans man and I generally agree with what you said. However, I was wondering how you would classify a particular experience of mine and other trans men I know irl or have seen online.

In short, I find that in some queer spaces, masculine and/or "binary" (meaning, not non-binary) trans men are treated as outsiders and enemies. I imagine some straight-passing queer cis men experience similar.

This prejudice against masculinity has nothing to do with us being trans, and is in no way oppressive, but it seems to me that some people have a hatred/disgust/discomfort/etc. with masculine men, especially if we are proud of our manhood. I sometimes feel excluded in queer or progressive spaces, and like I have to change myself to fit into others' idea of "acceptable" manhood.

I think this tends to emotionally affect trans men in particular because being a man is generally hard-won and joyful for us. Have you experienced prejudice in queer spaces, especially trans spaces, for being transmasculine? And while I don't believe there exists systemic misandry, is this not a form of misandry, just interpersonal?

Thanks, I really appreciate your work.

Hi there, thank you for great question. What you are describing is certainly a very real and troubling dynamic within both queer and feminist spaces, and it's put me off for a very long time. I have sometimes referred to this as "playful 'misandry' feminism", always with "misandry" in quotes because, as we've already established, it's not a real locus of systemic oppression. I have also sometimes in the past likened it to "Men's Tears Coffee Mug" feminism in its performative, self-congratulatory, typically white feminist stance.*

*in the Koa Beck sense of the term. Someone who is not white can be a white feminist.

I was always put off by performative man-hating jokes and the exclusion of men within feminist spaces because, well, I was one, and because it nearly always played out in transmisogynistic ways that were transparent to me, and because I was a major ride-or-die for men who were victims of sexual violence yet were frequently excluded from survivors' spaces (again, because I was one, even before I realized that I was).

There are a lot of troubling effects that happen when feminist women make a big performance out of finding all men to be disgusting and evil and frequently express disinterest in men's feelings or suffering (which used to be way more common in my estimation, around the early 2010's or so it seemed to peak). I was driven away from feminist spaces as a young closeted trans man because I could see such spaces were not for me or for any of the other men that I cared about and needed support. On the inverse side of things, I have spoken to many trans men who said that "playful "misandry"" feminism actively made it harder for them to realize that they were guys. Men were seen as the enemy and inherently evil and destructive and so they felt absolutely disgusting about the possibility of being a man, or feared transitioning would get them seen as a betrayer of the feminist movement.

As you rightly note, it is not just trans guys who get excluded by such dynamics. Cis men who are genuinely avowed feminists can be driven away by such forces, which is especially upsetting in the case of sexual assault survivors and queer men. Trans women and TMA enbies are excluded from feminist and women's spaces because they supposedly "look like" men to these types, and their own feelings of superficial safety rank above the actual data on who is the most at risk structurally (which is trans women). Butches are regarded in some spaces as too aggressive or unacceptably masculine because of it. And people's analysis of gender oppression just overall sucks when they buy into "playful misandry" style feminism because they go around saying shit like "femme people are oppressed by masc folks." what the hell does that mean. Does a cis, gender conforming feminine woman have less structural power than a butch lesbian? I don't think so.

It seems to me that the big problem here is that "playful misandry" feminism is rooted in a deep deep misunderstanding of the structural nature of oppression. Sexism isn't caused by patriarchy and capitalism, it's caused by "men" and so hating men and excluding them is what will fix things. Men as individuals are responsible for sexism and so women should be as detached from them and unsupportive of them as possible. This logic leads to a TERFy place really quickly, and yes, it also really really damages trans men.

My opinion is that it's best to critique this problem as the political failure that it is: a misunderstanding of sexism as individualistic rather than systemic. That's the core issue from which all the problems flow -- from rampant transmisogyny to the exclusion of cis male sexual assault survivors to the feelings of alienation of trans men. Yes sometimes naming the performative nature of "man hating" jokes and the like is helpful because people recognize instantly what that dynamic is when they hear it. But the "misandry" itself is not the core problem -- it's the shitty gender politics and white feminism.

Does that make sense? To be clear, I think it's something trans men get to talk about. I talk about it from my positionality quite a lot really. I don't think "misandry" is ultimately the helpful or clarifying way to name it, but I will sometimes throw around that term with a TON of qualifiers if I'm discussing the specific interpersonal dynamic of women saying that men are evil rapists innately or whatever. But really discussing the broader gender politics failure that leads to those little shitty comments and looks is almost always more helpful. If trans guys and cis guys are feeling excluded from a space due to these dynamics it's almost always the case that trans women, TMA enbies, butch women, and lots of women of color are too.