#i hope to make any american who has to do the research i did very hard by putting a result about some gays in the search

[breadandblankets]

CE Code Section 10: Grounding and Bonding

“Heh,” Morgan says, looking at where Alex is clutching at their hand for dear life. “Good thing that was low voltage.” Alex very distinctly wants to scream but they’re interrupted by the sound of a metal door popping open. Morgan’s face splits into a grin, shaking free of Alex’s grip they rush with their minions to grab what they came here for. ⚡⚡⚡ Or, Safety is not a joke, Morgan plays a little fast and loose, Alex is going more grey by the day

[felinefractious]

Hi! I was wondering if you have any thoughts or resources on the Highlander/Highland Lynx breed? Or what, if any, is the difference between the two?

I've read that they're two different breeds, but that that may only be the case because of different registry requirements..??

Also, are they really truly domestic? Every where I've read has said that they most certainly are, but that they're also crossed with Jungle Curls? That bit has left me a bit confused...

https://www.petfinder.com/cat/sampson-71366971/wi/new-richmond/gregorys-gift-of-hope-inc-wi432/

This pretty little guy is up for adoption at a shelter near me, and I'm contemplating going to see him (if he isn't snapped up in the next week lol), but I'd like to cover all my bases for breed research first!

He apparently came in fully intact and was recently neutered which seems.... Strange to me. The people who surrendered him supposedly bought him from a breeder out of state?

I'm not by any means 100% certain, but i did look at a few Highlander catteries and I THINK I may have found his breeder? At the very least they have a king that very well looks like he could be this guy's sire

https://www. highlanderswildnwonderful.com/ Kings.html

I do still wonder why he would be sent out as a companion fully intact though... Or why he wound up in a shelter and not returned to the breeder...

Anyway! I'd love to hear thoughts/opinions resources for potential health issues

So far I've only read that they require frequent ear cleanings and have some UTI issues, but the stumpy tail does make me a little nervous... It doesn't seem to be the same thing as manx, buuuuuut......

Woah, amazing find!

From what I understand - and if this isn’t correct someone more familiar with the breed is welcome to correct me - but the Highland Lynx is essentially the outdated name for the breed more widely known as the Highlander.

The exception largely being the Rare and Exotic Feline Registry which has decided the Highland Lynx is still the Highland Lynx and the Highlander is the same thing but backcrossed to the Desert Lynx use in the breeds foundation.

Which doesn’t make sense to me, it should just be considered an allowable outcross…? But whatever. I don’t respect that registry anyways.

As for their domestic vs hybrid status it’s true that the Jungle Curl is a Jungle Cat and American Curl but it seems like the Highlander falls more into the Toyger realm… there are technically wild caat hybrids in the ancestry but they’re far enough removed that it isn’t super relevant.

Even after 4 generations a cat is largely considered domestic or “SBT” (Stud Book Traditional) and these guys are generally even further out than that.

Before I get into the health of the breed I just need to make a small correction to their description… this handsome fella is not chocolate, he’s black sepia - often called brown or sable, sometimes called natural.

The toe beans tell, and he has many beans to reveal his secrets.

Currently we are not aware of any issues related to curled ears the way there are with folded ears but anecdotal evidence suggests that they’re more fragile and.. yes, require more frequent cleaning. Dirty ears and ear infections are definitely something to be mindful of.

As much as I enjoy polydactyl cats I’m not a fan of deliberately breeding for the trait, the nails on these extra digits can be difficult for the cat to maintain and are more prone to becoming ingrown. Some cats even require an onychectomy (declaw) of the excess digits due to reoccuring problems.

[Image Source]

So acclimating to having their paws handled and tolerating routine nail clips is an absolute must.

And finally… the tail.

Your concern about the relation to the problematic manx gene is warranted.

There are presently two types of tail mutations documented in domestic cats: the “natural bobtail” manx gene due to T-box mutations and the “asian bobtail” due to an HES7 mutation. The latter is not presently associated with the same issues as the manx gene.

HES7 mutations are not present in the Highlander.

Two T-box variants have been identified in the Highlander breed, meaning the mutation for their bobtail is the same as those responsible for the manx. Standard Highlander’s can have no tail to a short tail, those with a long tail are considered non-standarf and are largely used only for breeding purposes due to the lethal nature of T-box mutations when homozygous.

Some Highlander lines owe their bobtail appearance to a “novel variant,” meaning no known mutation has been identified. As this variant or variants are currently unidentified we can’t confidently say which gene (if either of them) it’s most closely related to or if there are similar issues associated.

All that being said not all manx gene cats will present with related problems and for those who do the severity is variable, some may have minor issues that can be managed with diet or medication while others may be… pretty severely effected.

I imagine at this age they would have a good idea of if Sampson has any issues and to what degree they’re present if he does.

If you’re prepared to deal with potential health issues should they arise I think it would be lovely to adopt him, you’re not contributing to the breeding of more if you go through a rescue and are equipped to educate others on why “Yes, mine is awesome but no you don’t actually want one.”

Like Dr. Frank Bozelka and his rescue Scottish Fold. His videos are hilarious and informative, by the way, I definitely recommend giving him a follow.

It would also be good for him to be placed with someone aware of and prepared to accomodate possible breed-related issues instead of someone who just wants a fancy cat… but I understand this can also be overwhelming, so absolutely no judgement if you decide to pass.

But if you do adopt him I’d love to see more pictures! I want to squish his cheeks.

[thebindingofpillo]

It’s been a while since I did a proper character introduction so this will be a little all over the place but MAGGY queen of my heart, best girl 2kforever is here!!!! Read all about her under the cut.

As with everyone else in the cast, Magdalene is a Normal Person trying to move through life the best way she can. While she’s aware or the existence of the supernatural, her strategy is to chug along and having a normal life in spite of all this. So who cares if the Angel of Destruction is chilling in her living room? That’s her boyfriend and he’s gonna help her with dinner, don’t be rude.

Her and Isaac are adopted siblings - you can find out about Isaac here - and they both have an artistic drive BUT while Isaac’s passion lies in figurative arts, Maggy is more of a writing type. Personality wise, I envisioned her as a really sweet, passionate girl, but also with an extremely short fuse. Quick to anger! But also very quick to calm down if people don’t respond to her anger - Judas is a master of this trick, while Isaac can get as emotional as her and their fight usually devolve into screaming matches.

This doesn’t mean she’s constantly looking for a fight, in fact she knows how to keep her cool if the situation calls for it. Her emotions only get the best of her if she’s with people she trusts and if the situation is dire enough (like discovering your beloved boyfriend killed the son of God…). She’s also a huge nerd! And a bit feral. Could either ramble for hours about her interests or eat a bell pepper like it's an apple. That's why her boys love her so much. Her and Judas met when they were in middle school and have been inseparable ever since. They bonded over their mutual interest in history and literature, so much so that they ended up pursuing a higher education in their respective fields. But while Judas had no problems getting a masters, Maggy spent years struggling to complete a base three-year degree* and ended up dropping out entirely. In the years she wasn’t studying, she focused on writing and publishing her first book, but that didn’t go so well either. She eventually ended up applying for a job at a kindergarten not too far from her home - where she met Lilith - all the while still trying her hand at writing. She’s currently working on a second book, with the help of Isaac (illustrations) and Judas (research).

*I am using my own experience with Italian university, I don’t know how American colleges work lol sorry. Anyway in Italy university is divided as such

Laurea triennale (three-year degree) - 3 years. This is the basic degree.

Laurea magistrale (masters degree) - 2 years. You can only access this after completing the three-year basic degree.

Dottorato (doctorate) - 3 years. Can only be accessed after completing the 2 year masters degree.

If you wanted to get a doctorate you’d need to go through 8 years of school. Judas has completed 5 years of studying (therefore has a masters degree) and is now taking a sabbatical before working on his doctorate. Magdalene dropped out after a couple of years and never completed the basic three-year degree. Hope this is clear enough!

Anyway, dropping out of school didn’t make Magdalene any less educated. She loves learning! And both her and Judas have amassed a huge library filled with every single book that captured their attention. She’s also very curious and has a knack for teaching herself new things, like calligraphy, cooking, and even lerning new languages. Everything that catches her attention - from mushroom growing, to crystals, to ancient religions - is free game!

Despite all this, dropping out of school and seeing her first book flop did put a damper on her overall mood. While her loved ones reassure her that her worth isn’t defined by her successes or lack of thereof, deep down she feels like a failure. Sure, she has a job, but idling away the rest of her life at a 9 to 5 isn’t really a thing she sees herself doing. At the same time, she’s afraid of putting too much hope into this new book, because another failure might push her to give up writing altogether and make her truly miserable.

As for her religious belief, she’s a born again Christian. She had a slight crisis of faith after highschool - nothing too serious, she just didn’t see the point in going to mass every week and was frustrated that this thing that was supposed to bring her joy felt more like a chore than anything. With her being a rebellious teenager at the time, she did a complete 180 and converted to satanism for a while. Her parents didn’t really support her decision, but they didn’t stop her either, as teenagers are teenagers and they just wanted their girl to be happy (and not hurt anyone or herself in the process).

During this phase of her life she dabbled a little in witchcraft, and her knowledge of tarots and crystals comes from here. She didn’t do much more than that though, as she was still a bit skeptical of the whole magic ordeal.

Eventually she met Azazel, who was nothing short of horrified to see her proudly announcing she was a satanist, since he had direct experience with the guy and could attest he was an asshole. Seeing a real demon from hell scared her half to death but since he was very sweet and knowledgeable, he managed to help her find her faith again and answer all the questions she might have had in the meantime. This does not mean that Magdalene is now the stereotypical Good Christian Girl Trademark. While her faith in God is stronger than ever, she still takes all the rules imposed by the human Church with a grain of salt. She’s not a zealot, but still goes to mass and tries to love her neighbour the best way she can (even when it’s difficult!).

More stuff (rapid fire)

She likes to joke she’s the world’s worst Catholic as she still reads tarots from time to time and stili has her pendulum and crystal collection

While she still has an interest in divination and magic, it’s from a purely cultural perspective now.

Her new book is about… the adventures of Perseus. I am getting meta with my story lol

I had the idea she was able to mend clothes and sew, but I don’t think it fits her too much anymore, so now whenever she needs something done she gives it to Isaac.

[who-do-i-know-this-man]

I made a mistake. Several actually. Several very severe mistakes. And this post isn't meant to make it all ok, I have accepted that many are rightfully mad at me, but I do hope that I can at least have some context to the mistakes I made and why I made them.

First let me say that I am privileged. That much is true. I am a white man in the american suburbs. I have the luxury of not only not being personally affected by many social issues but not even having to witness them. But I still want to be a good person. And part of that is learning about these social issues by talking and interacting with people online. But I'm still not perfect. I'm barely an adult and I have a lot of growing to do as a person. And hopefully with this in mind it will make some of the mistakes I will go over just a bit more understandable.

Back in mid march I made the submissions post for this blog, and did not expect to get as many as I did. I then spent a month taking as many submissions as I could and putting them in a list. All in all I ended up with over 2000 characters. From that alone it should be understandable why I couldn't research every one before releasing the bracket. I even ended up with many mistakes like incorrect labeling and duplicate characters.

However the first true mistake came later. I was making the poll posts themselves and I got to Lance. I knew I should have done something at the time but I didn't exactly know what. It was one poll and I was doing 16 polls per day minimum, but ideally double that so that I could have a backlog of posts. So I didn't spend as much time thinking about the issue as I should have and the conclusion I came to was that at the end of the day it was a fictional character, and if I properly content warning it it will be fine. Anyone who is sensitive to that imagery can block it. This is largely where my ignorance came in. While it may sound improbable to those who do know more I promise you I genuinely thought that I was doing no harm. And while I won't lie and say I am now a master in the topic now I do have a better understanding of the harm that this decision caused. Additionally my pride got to me. I am very proud of having "the biggest bracket on tumblr" but I had already had quite a few be disqualified for being duplicates or real people, so I didn't want to make the bracket any smaller and lose prestige. This was far from the main reason I kept him in, but it was morally wrong.

People's response to the original poll was mixed. There were people who immediately asked me to remove him, but others were on my side in saying that he should stay since he's a fictional character and his morals don't matter. So I defaulted to the stance I already had, and did nothing. This was a mistake. Above all else I should have prioritized everyone feeling safe and comfortable on my blog.

But the last night it was about an hour later then I should have been asleep and my brain was incredibly stupid, and things started to go down hill. I got the first ask in a while about Lance, and I decided to put an end to the issue. My way of doing this was doing a poll. In my mind this was my way of accounting for my ignorance. I don't know much about how severe this issue is, so I'll put it in the hands of people who did.

This poll also got mixed results. Some said I should just have the conviction to eliminate him myself, but others brought up things about that character I didn't know, like how he apparently has a character arc of learning fascism is bad, or that he has other visuals where he's wearing different outfits. I also got messages from fans of the series who thanked me for giving the character a chance. This made me feel comfortable in being a "neutral party". However with the notes I felt that I should "do this right" which unfortunately led to me doing the exact opposite.

I deleted the original poll, where 70% were in favor of disqualifying him. I didn't think it was a big deal since it had only been up a few minutes, but this was yet another mistake. I made a new poll, which included info that had been told to me since the previous poll. But the problem was that what I had actually written was not good. It was almost midnight at this point, so while I tried to remain a "neutral party" I ended up having the info show a very clear bias. And considering the character in question, people began to wonder why I was trying so hard to keep him in the poll. This led to many replies on the poll that began to overwhelm me. I was starting to realize the mistakes I had made and just how deep of a pit I had dug myself in. I panicked. I turned off replies and deleted all the ones on that were on the poll so that I could say everything I wanted to say interrupted. This backfired, and led to people going to the reblogs instead. And me deleting all the replies looked BAD. While I was trying to get the things I wanted to say out the post had spread. Spread even outside of the people who normally know this account. People who knew nothing of the history and structure of this blog, who thought that I had seen a character who was a Nazi and thought "sure come right in" and I was now trying desperately to keep him in.

This understandably made people very mad when that was their perception. Many many people were saying terrible hurtful things to me. Their heart was in the right place but even now I do not agree with the kind of harassment some stooped to. At this point I was in a full blown panic attack. Every bit of damage control dug me deeper into the pit. I decided that I needed to deal with this situation with a clear head so that I didn't make more mistakes in a panic. I deleted the poll about Lance's elimination and went to bed.

That brings us to this morning. I have announced that Lance is disqualified, and deleted the original poll containing him. I promise you all that I will try my hardest to prevent anything like this from happening again on my blog. I want to make things as right as I can. And I hope now you all will believe me when I say that I am not a Nazi, or an antisemite, I'm just a privileged idiot who made some dumb mistakes.

[tamamita]

Maybe this is a stupid thing to express, I've just seen so much Isr*eli violence today and I feel like maybe you can help me understand. All I've heard from people talking about the situation in Palestine is that it's "very complex" and requires a lot of research into the history of the place to get a "better understanding" of it. But like. Why can't they work to solve the conflict without butchering people? Why is the international community allowing Israel to keep doing what they're doing? I guess the answer is their American alliance, but is there no one willing to step up and actually do anything about this? What can I do about this? I've raised money, I've boycotted, I've signed petitions, it feels so hopeless, is it all for nothing?

Politically, americans need a stronghold in the middle east and use Israel as a puppet state. If there was an armed conflict between Israel and the Arab state, the US would be the first to intervene on the side of Israel, thus keeping the other states from intervening. The U.S keeps vetoing any resolution the UN presents on anything relating to the illegal occupation of Palestine, effectively making the UN one of the most useless peacekeepers in the world. So Israel makes a valuable ally in the geopolitical game. With the Trump administration, several deals and political changes undermined a lot for the Palestinian struggle for liberation not to mention the large support for the Christian right. Furthermore, negotiations become challenging when the Israeli Regime keeps allowing Zionist settlers to colonize Palestinian lands and evict Palestinians from their homes, and with every UN resolution that is presented to prevent these actions, the Americans keep vetoing them away. As a result, Palestinians have no choice but to retaliate, and when they do, they become demonized by Western media. When a Palestinian Christian journalist was shot in the head, the US and Israeli government did nothing, showing that Israel is an apartheid state that will surpress Palestinian voices and continue its oppression of the Palestinian people. The international community (sans the US) does condemn Israel, but there is little they can do with the Veto system in place. However, US influence of the MENA region has decreased significantly over the past few years.

Religiously, there is the ever-growing Evangelical movement in the U.S that adheres to the idea that Jewish people should be allowed to return to Israel so that they can hasten the return of Jesus, who will convert them enmass (144.000 to be precise). This is also referred to as Christian Zionism and is a very popular doctrine among the Evangelical sector. The Christian right is extremely vocal in its support for Israel in the hopes that Israel will become fully Jewish (this means they won't take any other Christian life into account). This idea is rooted in the Book of Revelation where the idea of a Jewish nation will signify the end times, and only can the apocalypse take place once the Holy Land becomes exclusively Jewish. Israel becomes a large tourist attraction for Evangelical Christians as a result and there are even Evangelicals disguised as Jewish people (such as Messianic Jews) that go around and lure Jewish people in the hopes of converting them.

In short, Fuck Zionism and the settler colonial state in general, and the Evangelical Christian Church is an evil death cult that advocates genocide in order to bring about the apocalypse.

[bossboudicca]

welcome to my little at home museum!

hello hbo war pals! and anyone else who likes this kinda stuff~

i recently acquired a collection of memorabilia from my dad, which came from his father (my grandad) and an old family friend. both these men served in ww2, and brought back/earned quite a few medals and other trinkets, american and german.

under the cut are photos and some information i found about some of the pieces, but just a quick content warning- some of these photos contain real nazi memorabilia, and if that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable then here's your warning. anyway, enjoy some artifacts!

this one is my personal favorite- the man who originally wore this would have served in both world wars. the darker medal with the dates is called a Hindenburg Cross

this is a german land mine marker/warning flag. also used to denote any hazardous objects/gas/etc.

this is a german Panzer Badge, given to tank crews who actively participated in at least three armored assaults on three different days.

this is a german Black/3rd Class Wound Badge, given to men who were wounded once or twice by hostile action. basically a nazi purple heart.

i was told this pin was german, but upon further research i believe it's actually an american ww2 honorable discharge pin. im not sure if it was my grandpa's or the family friend's.

and here's the piece everyone loses their mind over. your standard nazi armband. it is very spooky to touch/handle.

this was my grandpa's American Campaign Medal, and i'm guessing he got it from one of his jobs which was being the navigator on a B-25 Mitchell bomber assigned to flying the length of the west coast looking for any Japanese military aircraft/ships/etc. (the same kind of plane involved in the Doolittle raid)

this is his World War II Victory Medal, essentially a participation trophy. Every member of the United States Armed Forces who served from 7 December 1941 to 31 December 1946 was eligible for this medal.

this is his Army Commendation Medal. it is awarded to "any member of the Armed Forces of the United States other than General Officers who, while serving in any capacity with the U.S. Army after December 6, 1941, distinguished themselves by heroism, meritorious achievement or meritorious service". i am not entirely sure about the bars on the right side of the case, more specifically the blue and white with the three stars. any ideas?

beyond the rank badges, i honestly have no idea what these patches are for. however, for my band of brothers fans, that circular patch is an OCS/Officer Candidate School patch from Fort Moore/Benning. My grandad went to the same place Winters and Nixon did (i'm sure tons of guys did too but i think it's cool)

more of my grandpa's random little pins. i do not know what the "G" one is, but the one next to it with the propeller is an Army Air Force pin. i really like the U.S. ones and the lieutenant bar because you see those in the show lol. there is something on the backside of the lieutenant bar, but i can't quite figure out what it is. any insights are welcome!

these are some of his Army Air Force navigator specific pins

lastly, these were my grandpa's hats. i have an old photo of him somewhere, in uniform, wearing the one with the pin. makes me miss him a lot.

AND THAT'S IT! I hope you guys enjoyed your trip to the museum. if anyone has more information, please let me know! or if i misnamed anything!

[augustsappho]

Goldsmiths Centrists and Palestine: How To Ignore A Genocide - by August Sappho

On some unfortunate Tuesday in October 2023, I was sat shoving a piping hot cheese toastie down my throat in between morning lectures and sat idly with 2 other people in the refectory. Creative Arts students I'd met in the freshers chat who, whenever I had tried to share the contents of my lectures excitedly, had shut me down on the basis of politics being complicated and uncomfortable table talk. Desperate to make friends and coming from a family of people who typically get headaches at the dinner table caused by my ramblings and ravings, I understood and obliged; after all, I want to build bridges, not be the scary monster underneath them. That is until the curious question of Palestine came up, and I stayed quiet. Surely, these self-proclaimed apolitical progressives would be sensible. “I just think it’s all so complicated, really! People need to read up more before they come to broad conclusions!*” Yes, they absolutely should. What a rational take to have formed in the face of a sudden media flurry. In my own opinion, education, and more importantly, history, is the cornerstone of enriching one's ideas and understanding. The same way you use butter in a stew, and like butter, the professionals use a lot of it. And, like butter, it fattens me up, nourishes me and brings me a great deal of comfort. 

Mid-way through the summer term, I was struck by pure delight that I am living in a time where I can access any and every book I could ever dream of accessing either via the internet or a library or simply buying it. I sit, live and breathe in a country where the tuition fees are, yes, expensive but far from American and where people take great risks on their whole lives just to brush it with their fingertips, arm outstretched over a chasm of hope. Unfortunately, my table mates had decided not to utilise any of this incredibly accessible research and immediately followed their statements up by berating and shaming a lecturer in the media department for wearing a pro-Palestine jumper. They alluded very heavily that he should face some sort of consequence or simply not be allowed to wear it. After all, what does Palestine have to do with Creative Arts?  I continued chewing very slowly and very tense. I did think about saying something but decided against it. Months later, I blew up at them because these same apolitical progressives had one too many times scoffed, played devil's advocate and questioned people, including myself, into an uncomfortable corner over political meet-ups, rallies and open letters. Questioning tactics, phrasing, aims to no avail beyond being arseholes - have we tried just being really super duper nice to management guys? I almost laughed when I’d seen one of them had started learning Hebrew out of the blue on Duolingo.

Unfortunately, those self-proclaimed progressives aren't anything new at Goldsmiths University of London. It has a real troubling culture of letting people only engage in what they are comfortable with and not think much beyond that. Gay rights are legal in this country and, therefore, not controversial and, consequently, easy to support. Racism is illegal in this country and, therefore, not controversial to speak up against and easy to publicly oppose. Feminism has had many successful waves here, and so it is not out of the ordinary to call yourself a feminist (without being able to explain much theory behind any of what makes these ideas up or what distinguishes them). Unfortunately, these are also easy things you can add to your social media bios with no further thought, with the sole intent of virtue signalling and repelling conservatives online. While I am grateful for all these comforts and people's ability to declare themselves as such openly, they are often done on a very face-value level and do not always mean you're a particularly good anti-racist or a good ally or a good feminist. They often trick people who have done their homework into a false sense of security. No,they use these words in a way where the thinking has been done for them. You do not have to fight; you just have to pick the glaringly obvious option. They do not have to form moral opinions on the suffragettes bombing mailboxes, the Stonewall Riots or violent plantation liberation attempts from the likes of John Brown. They can simply sit and enjoy the luxury of not ever having to deal with the hard-hitting stuff and pretending they would have come to those conclusions anyway. 

Palestine, then, has acted as an axe, splitting whole student bodies around the world into two general camps. Between those who will occupy, sign letters, donate money, raise hell in the name of justice. In the name of what is good. Between those who will learn and listen and between those who will rattle on the same few talking points, claim to see both sides and claim things are just oh-so-complicated when they simply are not. Those who swear themselves by ideals of liberty and freedom and yet cannot muster a grain of sympathy to fight for those who have none. Those who will even go to the extent of the disenfranchisement of their peers and bullying if it means maintaining close contact with their comfort zones, and Palestine makes them very uncomfortable indeed—hearing chants and seeing flags and skirting around the videos of the bodies and the rubble, having to relocate your lecture or walk past a very obvious liberated zone. It makes it an unavoidable topic, puts politics in the face of those self-proclaimed progressives, and asks them, “Do you care enough to make a change?”. And the answer is a simple no. Instead of engaging with the reading they promised themselves publicly as a show of intellect, they choose to occupy their hours sending secret complaints to the warden, huff in frustration at marking boycotts, and get uncomfortable while swearing they're involved in all this and fully supporting it. Yet following lists, open letter signatures, and the things they mutter to each other paint a different picture. It is as if they know they are on the wrong side. They look left and right to see predominantly white middle-class faces like their own and prime ministers of conservative governments and think of it as some bizarre coincidence. They know they are wrong not to be reading, learning or keeping up to date which is why they maintain their opinions and feign progress until they are awkwardly called out or the simplest of questions peels off the scab.

“It’s [the occupation of the library] hindering students who have every right not to join the protest to do well in their end-of-year assignments!”—a message sent by one of the beloved October centrists. In a conversation that blew up into me confronting them for how they have treated several people, they hammered in that the student occupation of the library was unfair on themselves personally and other students like them. However, the occupation wasn't situated anywhere near the exam rooms nor on an exam day and was solely in the bottom floor front section of the library, where students are allowed to make as much racket as they want already, and people frequently do group projects there for this explicit reason. Anyone who has been to any library knows the bottom floor is always designated as the loud floor, and the higher up you go, the quieter it gets. Our library is quite impressive in size, so while unavoidable on the ways in and out, once you are inside, it was never going to be hard to find a spot to block them out. They did not know this, however, as it had never impacted them beyond hypotheticals in their head, and their argument wasn't dependent on having actually kept their eyes on what students were doing but rather finding anything to scream inconvenience at. All I could think was how funny that a student occupation of a library could be deemed as some unforgivable act because it impacts them directly, but a genocidal occupation in which their university has a hand in just isn't worth the time of day. The warden herself referred to the library occupation as something that ‘threatened’ students.

Let me conclude them with a different quote from the fictional Robin Swift from R.F. Kuang’s ‘Babel’ whose words perfectly encapsulate this ordeal.

“Across the town, students were fast asleep. Next to them, tomes by Plato and Locke and Montesquieu waited to be read, discussed, gesticulated about; theoretical rights like freedom and liberty would be debated between those who already enjoyed them, stale concepts that, upon their readers’ graduation ceremonies, would promptly be forgotten. That life, and all of its preoccupations, seemed insane to him now; he could not believe there was ever a time when his greatest concerns were what colour neckties to order from Randall’s, or what insults to shout at houseboats hogging the river during rowing practice. It was all such frippery, fluff, trivial distractions built over a foundation of ongoing, unimaginable cruelty.”

*the first conversation is paraphrased as best as I can remember it, as I do not record my conversations with people

[magnetothemagnificent]

Hi, I've been trying to learn on my own regarding this subject but I've been having a lot of trouble. Is there some sort of cultural disconnect between Jewish Westerners (esp Americans) and Jewish Easterners (esp Eastern Europeans but Middle East as well)? I had the weirdest conversation the other day with a Jewish American who didn't seem to think Ukrainian Jews counted as Jewish? Am I insane, or did I stumble across a cultural or political divide I wasn't aware of? How do I even go about researching something like that? thank you for your patience and help, and I hope people are kind to you.

So, they might be referring to the fact that not all Ukrainian (and any formerly USSR country) Jews are matrilineal Jews.

According to traditional Jewish law, in order for a person to be Jewish they either have to convert to Judaism or have been born to a Jewish mother. This law of matrilineality comes from a time when Jews were being exiled and scattered around the world, and preserving Jewish identity was extremely important. Before DNA tests, you really couldn't be 100% sure who a person's father was, but you could for their mother cause y'know......there would have been people witnessing them being born. Thus, it was decided to make Jewish descent exclusively matrilineal.

The USSR was very good at eliminating much of Jewish life and identity. Jewish documents were destroyed, so many people now don't have a reliable paper trail proving their ancestry and Jewishness. Additionally, some may be patrilineal Jews, but not matrilineal Jews, and therefore not considered valid by some Jewish denominations.

Now, I wouldn't quite say this is a "West" versus "East" issue, since many Israeli Charedi and Dati Jews feel the same way as American Orthodox Jews do. According to Israel's current Right of Return, people from former USSR countries qualify if they have even just a Jewish grandparent. This policy has allowed many lives to be saved during the Soviet era. With the war in Ukraine and a new influx of refugees, many Israelis are suspicious and don't want non-Jewish Ukrainians to be shown deference, and they are wary of Ukrainians who claim Jewish heritagr because they think they're lying just to have access to Israeli resources.

The situation regarding Jews and those descended of Jews in former USSR countries is pretty unique, and the "controversy" has more to do with interpretations of Jewish law than global location.

[firstelevens]

🎤 or 📷 for the sambucky prompt? If you'd like!

I may have played a little fast and loose with the prompt, but I was inspired! This one got pretty long, so it's posted on AO3 if anyone would prefer to read it there.

📸 Accidental Public Confession

“I hate time travel,” groans Sam, for at least the fifth time today.

“A little louder, Sam; I’m not sure they heard you across the Hudson,” hisses Bucky. 

So far, they’ve been doing a decent job of blending in. Any gawking that they did when they got here seemed to go unnoticed, because even a hundred years in the future, New York City is the kind of place where tourists roam wide-eyed and slow down the pace of the sidewalks. Still, until it’s clear how much the world has changed in this place where the Quantum Realm spat them out, it’s best to keep a low profile.

They decide to head for Bleecker Street, in hopes that the Sanctum Sanctorum has survived and they can get some answers, but they’ve only walked a few blocks when Sam stops dead in his tracks and grabs Bucky’s hand to stop him, too.

Bucky’s first instinct is to check that Sam is okay, but then Sam grabs his chin and turns his head to face where he’s been pointing: the building that used to be Avengers Tower, still standing. There are people milling around outside, but banners hung by the entrance still have the Stark Industries logo on them, and if Bucky’s few interactions with Morgan Stark have been anything to go by, there’s a good chance that the people in that building are smart enough to help them figure out what went wrong. He realizes belatedly that Sam’s hand is still in his and abruptly lets go, nodding towards the building as they change course.

It’s only when they cross the street and get closer to the entrance that the two of them realize that that won’t be the case. The building looks the same from the outside, but now, in brass letters, the sign above the doors declares it the Smithsonian Museum of American Superheroics.

Sam and Bucky share a look for a moment, silently agreeing to head inside. The cloaking devices on their gear hold up just fine under the scanners by the door, and they step into a sunlit atrium, full of families and tour groups looking around in awe.

Beside him, Sam accepts a map held out by a docent and unfolds it. “Look,” he says, tapping at a spot on the map. “There’s a research and preservation wing on the fifth floor. You think they’d be able to help us? Or point to someone who could?”

“Maybe,” says Bucky, frowning as he looks around, “but maybe it’s worth figuring out how folks here and now feel about us before we go barging in.”

There’s a considering noise from Sam, and then he looks up from the map, pointing towards a dramatically lit archway off the atrium. Hanging beside it is a banner that reads, ‘The Star Spangled Man: Bearers of the Captain America Legacy.’ “We could start there, maybe.”

They cross the atrium, flanked by groups of tiny school kids, and make their way into the exhibition room, its low light a contrast to the bright atrium. There’s a hush in the space, the kids shushed into apparent reverence by their chaperones.

The first room is a lot like the one Bucky remembers from the museum in DC: the story of Steve’s time in the war, with a small feature on each of the Commandos. There’s a section dedicated to Isaiah Bradley and the people whose lives he saved, though it doesn’t linger on what happened to him afterwards. Then it moves on to Steve’s time with the Avengers, capped by the Sokovia Accords and the battle against Thanos. Bucky is relieved to have seen very little mention of himself, though he’s confused by the lack of Sam in any of the exhibit so far.

They follow the path into the next room, and Bucky’s unasked questions are answered. Dead center, in a glass case large enough to accommodate the suit’s full wingspan, is a replica of Sam’s first Cap uniform.

Bucky looks over to Sam, whose face is doing something complicated as he looks at the uniform on display. When his face hasn’t cleared after a moment or two, Bucky murmurs, “Bad research. They should fire whoever did this.”

Sam’s face immediately goes from warring emotions to pure confusion. “What? Why?”

Keeping as straight a face as he can, Bucky gestures to the wax figure wearing Sam’s uniform. “Look at this guy. This mannequin has never even heard of leg day. How’s anyone gonna make a Sam Wilson figurine with legs this skinny?”

It earns an quiet laugh from Sam, who gently cuffs Bucky on the shoulder and shakes his head as he walks away. Much as Bucky would like to stick by Sam and keep him laughing, it occurs to him that this will go faster if they cover more ground, so he starts at the opposite side of the room.

As the two of them work towards the middle, Bucky skims every plaque that he comes across, looking for signs that he and Sam showing up at a superhero facility might be unwelcome, but there aren’t any. Weirder than that is the fact that Bucky is almost halfway around the room, and the exhibit has only covered the first few years of Sam’s time as Cap. He knows they’re not supposed to engage with too much information from the future, but it seems strange that he’s halfway through the section about the work they’ve done together, and the timeline has already caught up to the mission that he and Sam were on two weeks ago.

Sam looks equally confused as the two of them approach each other, stopping in front of a glass case where Bucky is stunned to see his own face looking at him from the pictures on display. He’s spent enough time with the Wilsons to pick out everyone in the family photos—Titi and Gideon and both of Sam’s parents, all the people he’s gotten to know and love in Delacroix—but Bucky’s face crops up everywhere. He’s in the Christmas card photo, and beaming proudly in the background while AJ shows off his little league trophy, and manning the grill with Sam at a cookout. There’s the pictures of the team that Kate has been taking lately with her polaroid camera, shots from news stories and from the time they invited a photographer along to document a training exercise, and in every single one, Bucky is by Sam’s side.

He takes a few steps back to see the entirety of the display and feels his jaw drop. This entire section of the exhibit is specifically about him and Sam, and he might be able to convince himself that it was about their partnership in the field if it wasn’t for the words in his own handwriting, projected against the backdrop of the display case: the crisp, slanting cursive that all his teachers used to applaud him for, spelling out the words, ‘until the end of time.’

Bucky knows those words, knows exactly where and when he wrote them down, but what he doesn’t know is how anyone could have seen them. He keeps that letter with him, locked in a desk drawer and tucked away from prying eyes. Nobody’s read it but him; he never even bothered to send it. He’d just written the letter to put his feelings into the world somewhere, never intending for them to be anyone’s problem but his own, and now…

It suddenly strikes him that Sam has been strangely quiet this whole time, and when Bucky looks over at him, his eyes are wide and apologetic. Inside the display case, right at his eye level, is the letter that Bucky locked away six months ago and has tried not to think about every day since.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam starts to say, and Bucky’s not sure he can stand to hear it.

“It’s fine,” he says, like it’s not rapidly getting harder to breathe. “It’s– you didn’t– it’s not a big deal. It isn’t.”

“I shouldn’t have read it,” Sam’s saying. “I didn’t realize what it was; I saw that it was addressed to me, and I read the date and I figured it would be something I’d recognize, but–”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“Still,” says Sam. “I’m sorry.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Bucky says tightly. He tries not to think about all the stupid things he said in that letter, all the damage that he’s just done to this friendship that Sam will be too kind to acknowledge. “Let’s just go home and we can pretend it never happened.”

Something flickers over Sam’s face before he clenches his jaw and squares his shoulders, nodding briskly. “Of course,” he says.

It’s Sam who walks away first, bound for the research wing entrance at the end of the exhibit. Bucky watches him go for a moment before turning back to the display case for one last glance. For all that he never wanted his letter to get out, Bucky can’t help but feel grateful that this is the part of his legacy that’s made it into a museum. He knows intimately the mark that the Soldier left on the world, and while that blood isn’t going anywhere, Bucky’s not even sure he knows how to voice his relief that at least in this one building, his place in history is marked by love.

As he looks over the whole display, his eyes fall to the bottom of the plaque, past the paragraph that recounts the details of his and Sam’s partnership. In small print across the bottom, there’s an acknowledgment of where the items in the display come from: ‘The Smithsonian thanks the Wilson family and the Wilson-Barnes Estate for their generous donation of these artifacts and their invaluable advice and support in the arrangement of this exhibit.’

Bucky blinks.

The Wilson family and the Wilson-Barnes Estate.

The Wilson-Barnes Estate.

Wilson-Barnes.

He has a sudden flashback to sitting down with a bunch of lawyers a few months ago, going over the basics of a superhero will. He hadn’t thought that he needed one at the time, but Sam had pointed out to Bucky that several decades of military backpay would just end up reverting to the state if Bucky died without a next of kin, and something about that left a bad taste in Bucky’s mouth. He’d ended up writing something simple, directing what he had to some charities and setting the rest aside for AJ and Cass, not that he’s told Sam or Sarah yet.

But even if the donations were made by the boys on his behalf, surely that would just constitute the Barnes Estate. Wilson hyphen Barnes means something shared, means that there was some legal reason why Sam and Bucky’s belongings would be dealt with together, and though it seems impossibly out of reach, Bucky can only think of one reason why that would happen.

He thinks again about how long Sam had stared at that letter, so much longer than it would have taken to read it just the once. He thinks about the emotion that had flashed across his face when Bucky had told him to forget about it. He’d assumed at the time that it might have been panic or frustration, but what if it had been something else entirely? What if Sam’s brusqueness wasn’t about the letter, but what had happened afterward?

Bucky can feel the tiniest amount of hope beginning to beat behind his ribcage, and after months and months of trying to squash it down, he lets it grow.

Across the room, he finds Sam, waiting by the next room of the exhibit and watching him. When Sam spreads his hands in the universal gesture for what the hell, dude, we’re trying to do something here, Bucky feels affection thrum through his veins, and he half-jogs over to where Sam is standing.

“I hope you have a plan for what to–” Sam is starting to say, but Bucky cuts him off again.

“We should talk about it,” he blurts. When Sam’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, he clarifies: “The letter. We should talk about the letter.

Immediately, Sam’s face softens. “We don’t have to, Buck. You didn’t mean for anyone to see it. It’s okay.”

But Bucky is already shaking his head. “I did,” he says, trying his best to push past the fear that had made him hide the letter in the first place. “I meant for you to see it. I just…I let my brain talk me out of it. I shouldn’t have.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, thick between them. Then, before either of them can say anything else, the door to the research wing swings open and a lady in a lab coat steps out. She has two sets of glasses perched on her head and a jeweler’s lens around her neck, and when she sees the two of them standing by the door, she does a cartoon-perfect double take.

“Oh, shit,” she says, her eyes going wide.

“Oh, good, you know who we are,” says Sam pleasantly, switching from Sam Wilson to Cap right in front of Bucky’s eyes. “Any chance you could help us find our way back home?”

When the still-shocked museum employee manages a weak yes and motions for them to follow her, Sam reaches for Bucky’s hand again to pull him along.

This time, Bucky doesn’t let go. 

[wanderingmind867]

My take on Blue Beetle (Ted Kord):

Ted Kord is known as the Canadian Bruce Wayne. Well, maybe not explicitly by that nickname, but that is the type of character he shall be. He's less dark than Bruce, but you know what I mean, I hope.

Ted Kord is the head of famed manufacturing company Kord Industries. Known around the world for it's research skills and for it's work in the development of new technology, everybody knows the Kord family. They're like the Rogers family, except without a monopoly on telecommunications. But based on the behavior of CEO Ted Kord, you may not always know that they're such a successful company.

Ted was always a shy boy. Early in his life, people around him began to notice just now precocious the boy was. Shy, lonely but incredibly creative and intelligent, ted was head and shoulders above his peers when it came to academics. But he never excelled socially. Ted has almost never had any friends, and his father was a cold, distant rich miser. With his mother having died when he was very young, Ted never really had anyone who cared for him in his life.

To cope with this loneliness and isolation, Ted loved to spend time alone reading. Ted fell in love with old fantasy and adventure stories, as well as with superheroes and superhero comics. Specifically, Ted loved the semi-fictional adventures of The Blue Beetle, otherwise known as archaeologist Dan Garrett. (The stories were semi-fictional because Garrett was a real archaeologist and adventurer in the 1920s and 30s, but he never had a magic scarab or secret identity as the Blue Beetle).

For Ted, these stories were an escape from his lonely life at home. They helped him deal with his cold home life and lack of friends. Ted began to dream of one day becoming a real hero, just like the Blue Beetle he fell in love with.

As Ted aged, he began to feel disillusioned by his family's work. He used to hang out with his dad's assistants and with the factory staff. He got to see how hard their lives were, and how much of their problems could be traced back to his dad. His dad hoarded money, was rude to his workers, refused to let them unionize or get raises, etc. Eventually, something explosive was going to happen. And something explosive did indeed happen.

When ted was around 20 or so, the factory workers went on strike. Around the same time, a bunch of the key organizers of the strike began to go missing. Suspicious, ted began investigating. And what he found really shocked him. He found out that his father was hiring someone to sabotage the strikes by injuring the strike organizers. Outraged, Ted knew he had to do something. But what? And then it hit him: this was his chance. He now had a chance to become a hero, like his idol as a child.

So ted got to work designing a costume and an arsenal of weapons to help take the attack to the saboteur. And just like that, The Blue Beetle was born! He took out the saboteur and helped bring his father to justice! And now Ted Kord lives two lives. Sometimes he's Ted Kord, CEO of Kord Industries, dedicated to making amends for his father's actions. While other times he's the Blue Beetle, one of Canada's most famous Superheroes!

The Blue Beetle was one of the founders of the Justice League of Canada. Naturally so, since he's one of the most famous heroes Canada has. People even know of the Blue Beetle in America, which is shocking considering how often americans forget Canada exists. He was a natural choice to help found the team.

PS: If you're waiting for Booster Gold, I can try and do my take on him too. I'm not sure if I want both of these characters to be introverts who open up around each other (like having Booster Gold really be very shy and his persona is a bit act), or if I want Booster to be more extroverted and Ted more introverted, making them an odd couple kind of deal. I'm leaning towards the first one, but both would work I suppose.

[fromkenari]

Waterloo Letters #4 (1/4): Hometown stuff

Hometown stuff A agcd@eclare45.com                9/2/20 5:12 PM to Henry H, Have been home for three hours. Already miss you. This is some bullshit. Hey, have I told you lately that you’re brave? I still remember what you said to that little girl in the hospital about Luke Skywalker: “He’s proof that it doesn’t matter where you come from or who your family is.” Sweetheart, you’re proof too. (By the way, in this relationship, I am absolutely the Han and you are absolutely the Leia. Don’t try to argue because you’ll be wrong.) I was also thinking about Texas again, which I guess I do a lot when I’m stressed about election stuff. There’s so much stuff I haven’t shown you yet. We haven’t even done Austin! I wanna take you to Franklin Barbecue. You have to wait in line for hours, but that’s part of the experience. I really wanna see a member of the royal family wait in line for hours to eat cow parts. Have you thought any more about what you said before I left? About coming out to your family? Obviously, you’re not obligated. You just seemed kind of hopeful when you talked about it. I’ll be over here, still quarantined in the White House (at least Mom didn’t kill me for London), rooting for you. Love you. xoxoxoxoxo A P.S. Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf—1927: With me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal.

Re: Hometown stuff Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                9/3/20 2:49 AM to A Alex, It is, indeed, bullshit. It’s all I can do not to pack a bag and be gone forever. Perhaps I could live in your room like a recluse. You could have food sent up for me, and I’ll be lurking in disguise in a shadowy corner when you answer the door. It’ll all be very dreadfully Jane Eyre. The Mail will write mad speculations about where I’ve gone, if I’ve offed myself or vanished to St. Kilda, but only you and I will know that I’m just sprawled in your bed, reading books and feeding myself profiteroles and making love to you endlessly until we both expire in a haze of chocolate sauce. It’s how I’d want to go. I’m afraid, though, I’m stuck here. Gran keeps asking Mum when I’m going to enlist, and did I know Philip had already served a year by the time he was my age. I do need to figure out what I’m going to do, because I’m certainly closing in on the end of what’s an acceptableamount of time for a gap year. Please do keep me in your—what is it American politicians say?—thoughts and prayers. Austin sounds brilliant. Maybe in a few months, after things settle down a bit? I could take a long weekend. Can we visit your mum’s house? Your room? Do you still have your lacrosse trophies? Tell me you still have posters up. Let me guess: Han Solo, Barack Obama, and … Ruth Bader Ginsburg. (I’ll agree with your assessment that you’re the Han to my Leia in that you are, without doubt, a scruffy-looking nerf herder who would pilot us into an asteroid field. I happen to like nice men.) I have thought more about coming out to my family, which is part of why I’m staying here for now. Bea has offered to be there when I tell Philip if I want, so I think I will. Again, thoughts and prayers. I love you terribly, and I want you back here soon. I need your help picking a new bed for my room; I’ve decided to get rid of that gold monstrosity. Yours, Henry P.S. From Radclyffe Hall to Evguenia Souline, 1934: Darling—I wonder if you realize how much I am counting on your coming to England, how much it means to me—it means all the world, and indeed my body shall be all, all yours, as yours will be all, all mine, beloved. … And nothing will matter but just we two, we two longing loves at last come together.

Re: Hometown stuff A agcd@eclare45.com                9/3/20 6:20 AM to Henry H, Shit. Do you think you’re going to enlist? I haven’t done any research on it yet. I’m gonna ask Zahra to have one of our people put together a binder on it. What would that mean? Would you have to be gone a lot? Would it be dangerous??? Or is it just like, wear the uniform and sit at a desk? How did we not talk about this when I was there????? Sorry. I’m panicking. I somehow forgot this was a thing looming on the horizon. I’m there for whatever you decide you want to do, just, like, let me know if I need to start practicing gazing wistfully out the window, waiting for my love to return from the war. It drives me nuts sometimes that you don’t get to have more say in your life. When I picture you happy, I see you with your own apartment somewhere outside of the palace and a desk where you can write anthologies of queer history. And I’m there, using up your shampoo and making you come to the grocery store with me and waking up in the same damn time zone with you every morning. When the election is over, we can figure out what we’ll do next. I would love to be in the same place for a bit, but I know you have to do what you have to do. Just know, I believe in you. Re: telling Philip, sounds like a great plan. If all else fails, just do what I did and act like a huge jackass until most of your family figures it out on their own. Love you. Tell Bea hi. A P.S. Eleanor Roosevelt to Lorena Hickock—1933: I miss you greatly dear. The nicest time of the day is when I write to you. You have a stormier time than I do but I miss you as much, I think. … Please keep most of your heart in Washington as long as I’m here for most of mine is with you!

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 292-297). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

2 | 3 | 4

[luckynightdinosaur]

Predvember Day 3

Prompt: Phase

Word Count: 1k

Summary: A woman is captured by Weyland-Yutani, and discovers their plans for her.

Pairing: None

Tags: Human experimentation, corrupt corporations, forced pregnancy (future), dialogue-heavy

Warnings: None

Phase One. 

That's what the scientists are calling it. 

"The beginning of a new breed of soldier, one who can do that which regular men and women cannot. That's the goal here, you see?" 

One of them, a short, rotund ginger woman, tells Max as she is tightening the restraints on her wrists. 

"You're crazy," she spits out between gritted teeth, wishing that the force of her glare was enough to cause the woman to drop dead as she struggles on the metal table in a vain attempt to free herself. "You can't do this to me. I'm an American citizen. I have rights." 

The scientist, whose name tag reads "Fritz", clicks her tongue mockingly. "Don't be ridiculous. The moment you signed those papers, you gave up what rights you have. You belong to Weyland-Yutani." 

"You lied to me!" Max shoots back. "This was supposed to be a social study, not some- some crackpot science experiment! You lied." 

Fritz hesitates, but only for a moment, before she shrugs, her blue eyes narrowing. "It was necessary." 

"Necessary?" Max chokes out, a mixture of indignation, terror and fury making her voice crack. 

She can't believe it.

What these people are proposing is insane. For starters, aliens aren't even real, and yet here they are, claiming that they're going to use extraterrestrial…dna, to impregnate her? 

In the hopes that, what? She conceives a brand new organism, something humanity has never seen before? 

It's the most ridiculous thing that she's ever heard. What is this, a sci-fi movie? 

"You're not going to get away with this, you know," she tells Fritz, as she tests the restraints again, wincing at the way they bite into her skin.

Fritz has the audacity to roll her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips. "Can you get any more cliché? Of course we're going to get away with it. We did our research. No one is even going to notice that you are gone."

The scientist chuckles, shaking her head. "Even if they do, it's doubtful that they will care too much. Anyone who does care about you….well, they aren't in any position to help you anyway, are they?"

"You don't know anything about me," Max retorts, stung at the implication that this woman is aware of her history, even as her stomach drops. 

Did they actually look into her background? Were they just out here targeting specific people for these supposed tests? Or did they just do it for her specifically? 

"I know a lot about you. I know that you only have one living relative, your grandmother. Though she's not long for this world, is she?"

Max grits her teeth. Her grandma Susan is the only reason she's here. 

She is very sick, and Max can't afford the treatments, only able to work part-time while she attends university. 

Finding the advertisement for the study had felt like a lifeline being thrown to her, like the universe had decided to stop shitting on her for once. 

Stupid. So stupid. 

She can't believe she had actually thought that things were looking up, that she'd actually be able to get her nana help. You know what they say. If it's too good to be true…..

"My job will notice if I don't come in, and-" She begins, trailing off as Fritz snorts, her smirk widening. 

"Your job? You mean that dead end ice cream place? Right. Your coworkers despise you. Besides, you'll be replaced in a few days. I doubt that it'll make much of a difference." 

Fritz turns, picking up various things around the room, continuing to speak. "You don't really have any friends that you contact regularly, either. No pets, and no significant other. It's quite sad, really."��

Max swallows hard, barely paying attention to the other woman's words as she struggles to think of a way out of this mess. 

"Why are you doing this? How could you be a part of something like this? It's….. it's wrong." 

Fritz tilts her head in her direction, setting down various unidentifiable tools on a tray next to the table that Max is restrained on. 

"That's subjective. This is for a good cause. Are you even aware what this means for humanity as a whole? Countless men and women die every year fighting for this country. This project will open doors to advancements the likes we've never seen before. This could save lives. And anything that does that, well. It's not bad in my book." 

She's crazy. She's fucking crazy. She actually thinks this is okay. 

"And what about me?" Max demands. "What if I die because of this? What then? Is that still for 'a good cause'??"

"The sacrifice of a few to benefit the many," Fritz replies with a shrug. "I don't know why you're so upset. Personally, I would be honored to be a part of something like this, but I…don't fit the requirements, sadly." 

Her eyes flick to Max's body, her expression undeniably jealous for the quickest of moments.

Max resists the urge to make a nasty comment, her jaw aching with how hard she's clenching her jaw. 

"Besides," Fritz continues. "You're still getting what you want, you know. Your grandmother will be looked after during this project, and will be as long as you prove useful. You have no reason to be upset."

No reason to-

"No reason to be upset!?" Max shouts, rage flaring through her as she strains herself against her restraints. "Are you delusional, or are you just stupid? How can you say-"

"The doctor will be with you soon," the scientist interrupts loudly. 

She gives her a fake, cheery smile. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I'll be the intern recording your progress throughout this project. I look forward to assisting you through your journey." 

Before Max can respond, she turns sharply on her heel, and exits the room. 

Leaving her to stare at the door with nothing but dread for company, as she waits for the inevitable. 

[mrsbsmooth]

U need to stop talking about US politics. Ur so unintelligent and ignorant about it, it’s crazy. Ur spreading misinformation and it’s gonna get us in danger. The wrong person is gonna see this and vote for him. Stop. Ur not special just cause people kiss ur ass. U don’t get to do shit like this. Stop.

Vote for who? Biden?

GOOD.

Yeah he’s a piece of shit and doesn’t care about Palestine but you know who actively supports Israel and is trying to cement himself as the MOST pro-Israel candidate because it appeals to his evangelical voter base?

Ding ding ding it’s ya boy, Donny T.

You know what’s gonna get you in danger? Voting for someone whose sole agenda is to get back into the Whitehouse so they can seize control and NEVER LEAVE AGAIN.

It is beyond me that y’all could support someone who literally supported and invited domestic terrorism and almost started a full blown civil war. It is beyond me that he could split your country in two, encourage his followers to start an insurrection, to storm the capitol building and demand the execution of world leaders and American citizens— And you still call him a PATRIOT.

The rest of the world are HORRIFIED. And look, I know American media and education doesn’t expose you to the history and context behind fascism and dictatorships. The shit y’all get on TV is often extremely biased one way or another, because having an agenda sells far better than objectivity. I’m not saying the Australian system is much better but seriously, if you aren’t absolutely terrified by the idea of Donald Trump getting back into power, then I don’t know what to tell you. If you’re not convinced at this point— well, friend, I hate to tell you, but there isn’t much I can do for you. I won’t speculate as to the possibilities as to why you might like him but I’ve got a pretty good idea.

That man has proven time and time again that he HATES America. He hates its laws, he doesn’t respect its constitution, and he thinks it would be a better country if he and he alone ran it without any other forms of government. As a dictatorship. And I know the word is massively over use these days because I don’t think a lot of people actually understand what it means to be in a dictatorship.

Call me uninformed all you want. Call me ignorant. I am neither of those things. I don’t need to explain my qualifications to you. The entire point is that you go and do some research that involves more than reading tumblr posts. Even the information on here is biased. I have an inherent bias that I can’t escape either.

All I’m saying is the rest of the world were willing to stick up for you guys once, saying you made a mistake and you didn’t know what you were doing when you elected him- you couldn’t have possibly known that he would do what he did to your country.

But if you put that man back in the White House, and he makes good on his promises and destroys the very foundation on which the United States was built?

I hope to God our countries aren’t stupid enough to come to your rescue. 

[labellefleur-sauvage]

I am obsessed with ‘The Highland Fox and The English Rose’ please I have questions:

What inspired you to write this?

Do you know how talented and incredible you are?

Have you seen outlander by chance?

(Spoiler question): In meters, how big is Laid! Lucien? Or are we to find out with Miss Elain?

If you would like….could you share a little snippet of any part of the series? (You can every share deleted scenes—I am in love)

What does your research process look like?

Feel free to answer this ask after the series has ended! Hope you’re doing well! Please forgive my enthusiasm.

First of all, do you know how insanely sweet and amazing you are??

This is such a lovely comment that absolutely made my day!! I love your enthusiasm! I apologize for the delay but I’ve been steadily working on this ask, because I want to give it the attention it deserves.

(More under the cut, including a very brief snippet from the next chapter, because idk how to write succinctly)

Honestly, my only inspiration for this fic was general vibes😂 I’ve been reading a lot of historical romances lately, and in my American mind, Scotland is such a romanticized area of the world that is still recognizable to readers that I thought it would be fun to explore. And selfishly, I thought that Lucien would look hot in a kilt and wanted to write about that.

I’ve seen a few episodes of Outlander, but I’m more familiar with the books (at least the first two or three). I didn’t realize until very recently that maybe SJM based Lucien somewhat off of Outlander’s main man, Jamie Fraser, but I feel very smug for picking up what SJM was throwing down.

Hmm, how big is Lucien (what parts do you mean😏😏??) I imagine him tall but not excessively so—maybe 1.87 or 1.88 meters (around 6’ to 6’1 for the Americans). I headcanon Elain more on the shorter side, so Lucien doesn’t need to be huge to get that size difference we all know and love (unless you meant his dick, in that case Elain will definitely learn sooner rather than later)

My research is never ending. I start with large ideas and concepts (Scotland in the 17-18th centuries, looking over clan maps, etc.) then narrow it down as topics come up (in canon Lucien has a metal eye, but those have never really existed in our world, so when were glass eyes invented and accessible to the public? What did people in the Highlands eat and wear? Were pencils around during this time period, or was everyone writing with ink and quills?) and so on. I don’t have access anymore to Jstor for academic articles so I’m mainly confined to articles and blogs online. For those, I try to look to see if the author lists their sources for the article—if they do, I generally consider it a good enough source. It’s even better if I’m able to find a good primary source, like paintings and pamphlets, to describe something.

All that being said, if something I want to write isn’t quite historically accurate but the vibes are sexy, I’m probably gonna go with whats fun and sexy. I’m doing this for myself and for free and I’m not being graded—who cares if the colors in someone’s kilt isn’t accurate because there’s no native plants that color the people would have used as dye?

Thank you again for your support and enthusiasm and all your lovely comments on my fic! Truly, seeing people get excited over this makes me so happy and is keeping me so motivated!

Finally, a little snippet from the next chapter…

Lucien woke, as he had every morning since the day after his wedding, hard as his dirk.

Sighing, he threw his quilt off his heated body and leaned up on his elbows to stare at his cock, a slight frown as on lips. He had hoped his body would have gotten the hint by now that it wasn't going to have any company other than his hand for a while. Apparently, his little tryst with Elain last night had convinced it otherwise.

He looked over to his window. The window was slightly ajar, and the thin, gauzy curtains framing the glass fluttered softly as the gentle breeze brought the earthy scent of the loch into Lucien’s room. The sun was out with hardly a cloud spoiling the bright blue sky overhead. It was going to be a beautiful day, and he really needed to get out of bed and begin his long list of tasks.

That could wait a few minutes, though.

[monstrousproductions]

I trust your taste

Can you recommend some fiction books? Fantasy is highly appreciated!

Oooh what a sign of trust!! OK so I don't actually read a huge ton of fantasy, so I'll do my best with a couple of non-fantasy that I just can't resist mentioning at the end.

Also, this got... a bit long... so I'm putting it under a Read More lol

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K Le Guin - classic fantasy about a boy who becomes a great wizard. I realise this is likely one you've already read, as a fantasy fan, but it's a classic for a reason! Absolutely beautiful, and really powerful for me as a Quaker because of its rejection of the idea that fantasy must always be about The Goodie winning over The Baddie by doing killing better than them. If you've read it already, read it again lmao Also there's a new audiobook that came out a few years ago read by Kobna Holdbrook-Smith which is just brilliant.

The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin does come with a decent load of content warnings so do tread carefully if necessary, but it's also the best fantasy I've read in YEARS. The book is split over three different narratives in a world where magic users are an oppressed class, and again the audiobooks are amazing, read by Robin Miles.

Meanwhile I very much do NOT recommend the audiobook for Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb, though I did enjoy the book when I read it. The audiobook is, I believe, read by an American putting on what he thinks is an English accent, and um. Well. It sure is something. It's pretty classic fantasy too, and one of those books that you're like "what in God's name do you mean, this wasn't intended to be gay??"

The Heavens by Sandra Newman always makes my rec lists because it made me cry a lot and it's just very beautiful. Again the narrative is split, one taking place in an alternate, utopian present and one in Elizabethan England, with the narratives linked by the fact that the Elizabethan stuff is happening in the dreams of the woman in the present.

My favourite book ever is Fire & Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones, it's about an unlikely friendship between a girl and a young man with lots of fae things and that brilliant blending of magic and reality that DWJ does so well. It's so much my favourite that when I recommend it to friends, I ask them to please not tell me if they didn't like it - just pretend you didn't read it haha Honestly I recommend any DWJ, but F&H is my baby <3

Lud-in-the-Mist by Hope Mirrlees was one of those books I read once that just stayed with me. It's about a Perfectly Ordinary English Town that sees an influx of fairy fruit and has to deal with that, and while I'm fuzzy on remembering the details, I know I loved it!

And then because I actually read more SF than fantasy as a general rule, here's a jumble of SF titles that I adore (though I'll spare you the waffle!):

the Imperial Radch triology by Ann Leckie about a troop carrier who becomes a person (she also has a fantasy book - The Raven's Tower - if that appeals more and all her audiobooks in the UK are read by Adjoa Andoh who I would simply die for)

the Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells, about a security bot who becomes a person (audiobooks are read by Kevin R Free, of Nightvale fame, and they're brilliant)

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone, about two soldiers in warring time-travel factions sending letters to each other (also made me cry)

To Be Taught If Fortunate by Becky Chambers, about space researchers who change their bodies to adapt to the worlds they find and what ethical issues they come up against

The City We Became by NK Jemisin, about people who become living avatars of the different districts of New York to fight an alien presence (also a good audiobook - Robin Miles again)

All Our Wrong Todays by Elan Mastai, about a man from a utopian timeline suddenly stuck in our timeline instead (good audiobook too)

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel, about a travelling theatre troup in a world where civilisation collapsed after a terrible pandemic (obviously tread carefully wrt how upsetting that might be for you!)

And then it isn't SFF in any strict sense but The Man Who Was Thursday by GK Chesterton (Simon Vance does the audiobook I like) is just very very fun and good and I like it a lot. Also the Lord Peter Wimsey novels, for the same reason!

[slovo-theshattered-onion]

Okay Google, How Do I Cope with an NDA About Nothing Relevant at All?

this is a continuation of that one story i posted, like, the day before yesterday or so about adam and jeremiah and it's from a third party's perspective :D :D :D 2908 words !! enjoy <3

cws: office work, mentioned transphobia, alluded to Severe Mental Health Issues, coming in possession of the Juiciest Gossip that you can under no circumstance share, allusions to kidnapping but only if you squint, possibly (probably) very ignorantly written muslim POV character (tell me if i did an offensive please, i have random bits of knowledge all over the place but i admittedly mostly sourced this post while writing so. by far, not perfect research 👍)

Someway, somehow, despite QaTRO being one of the queerest organisations in Portugal if not worldwide and therefore full of all flavours of people, no one in the ranks is more mouthwateringly intriguing than their boss.

All the tabloids huddle routinely at the entrance to QaTRO's offices in vain hopes to catch so much as a glimmer of the man, to say nothing of the perpetually snooping smear campaigners. Everyone knows of his fashion sense, yet no one knows where he gets his clothes; everyone knows he has transitioned and had most of the available surgeries, but not one photo of him from before has been found; everyone knows he's wonderfully wicked in bed, but anything about his personal relationships is barely speculation at best; everyone knows Adam Pereira the myth, but all anyone knows about Adam Pereira the man is that he's supposedly Brazilian-American and, if you catch him in a conversation, funny and sweet to cavities.

Maryam would love to say it's different inside the offices, but the only additional fact they're all privy to is that Adam very specifically refuses to finish renovating one of the bathrooms on the third floor specifically so he can hide there whenever someone asks him too many questions about his past or personal life. The only different thing is, really, that they can come to him with the fruits of their 'make up the wildest things about Adam Pereira' improv game and get entirely unhelpful feedback. Even as his secretary, Maryam doesn't even know what city he lives in after almost two years of constant direct contact! 

All she knows of that is, he's somewhere not too far from Lisbon since he says he has an hour and a half commute to work. Like any other non-demonstrable fact about the boss, though, it's as good a piece of information as that theory he's secretly a cis mafioso from Florida who skinned his arm to mimic a phallo skin graft to... She's not sure what exactly, but the sheer novelty of an anti-transvestigation has stapled the thought into her head permanently.

Either way, the point is, no one knows anything at all about Adam Pereira, and the employees at QaTRO have long since stopped asking because the awkward, sweet guy they're working for will find any possible weasel route out of answering. In worst case scenarios, he’ll have a panic attack about it in his personal, dusty, paint-fumed bathroom stall, as well; running damage control in such cases is pretty much the only time his secretiveness affects Maryam poorly, so. She just enforces his boundaries for him, no big deal.

Which is why, when he shows up a day early after one of his semi-annual missionary trips for threatening tea with the governor of Florida- see also, mafioso rumours- she expects him to spend a customary week home, before getting back to the office and never speaking of why he changed his schedule. Alhamdulillah, the improv game has been getting a bit stale. Only so wild you can go before even discussing evidence for 'he's secretly the avatar of some black hole millions of light years away' loses its punch.

What she's not expecting is her work phone buzzing with Adam's number a good four days before he's due back at the office at the very tail end of her shift.

Staring at the contact name, Maryam contemplates if she should have some kind of emergency service on hot dial just in case the ocean's about to burst alight. Her phone continues to vibrate out the melody- soundless, since it has to be semi-professional- of a song about suspicious businessmen. Well, no use delaying; she swipes to answer.

"Maryam! Hello, my beautiful and most valued assistant. Are you available for a short chat?" Voice spiking through the speakers, Adam asks through the bustle of whatever public place he's apparently in.

Maryam raises her brows. "Subhan Allah, Adam? Is everything okay? Can you cough twice if you're possessed?" Smiling, she leans back in her gamer-grade office chair and crosses her legs. Doesn't sound like her boss is in any kind of immediate danger, at least; her shoulders untense just enough for her to notice how tight they got.

"Oh- no, no, everything's fine. I'm just- you have two sugar babies, right? I need gift ideas."

... What?

"For a sugar baby?" To check if she perhaps misheard, Maryam rises from her chair. No one should come into her and boss’ office without knocking, but better to lock the door just in case.

"Not- quite? I just have someone who I need to know with a hundred percent certainty that money is not an issue. Anything expensive will probably do, but I don't know how personal to make it? Or is it better to just hand over hard cash? I mean, I'm planning to open him a bank account soon anyway. It won't count as a gift if I think it's a necessity though, right??" Rattling off, Adam's voice drowns out all the background bustle, "Shit, it totally doesn't, getting a haircut and new clothes didn't convince him. What do I do then?-"

"Woah, deep breath, bossman. It's okay, this really isn't that straight forward but we'll figure it out, In Shaa Allah." Maryam interrupts, tone as comforting as she can get it, and drops on the impossibly cosy sofa at one of the office walls, "In my experience, stuff that they wanted to get for a while but never had specifically enough money for tends to get it across clearest, but what that is really depends on the person. For Simon, it was Faber-Castell pencils, but that'd never work for Ieva, you know? I know you're a private guy, so I won't pry, but I figure you're diligent enough to figure it out." She smiles, "Whoever's in your orbit is lucky to have you, Subhan Allah."

Silence. Not even sounds of a crowd peek through from the other end of the line; did Adam hang up? He very rarely does without a polite goodbye.

Just as Maryam lifts the phone from her ear to check if the call's still on, Adam speaks again. "Is the printer on?"

Oh? Where's he leading with this? Straightening up, Maryam looks over to the printer shrine, and satisfied to find the little light on, falls back into the cushions. "Yeah? What'd you need, bossman?"

"I need you to type out and print a one way NDA for yourself with specifications as I dictate. It's okay if not, but I'll be hanging up then. I don't mean to bribe you, I promise this isn't any kind of important information-"

"Please don't worry about bribery, Astaghfirullah, you know I'd get myself blackmailed for gossip." Already at the desk, Maryam opens a text document, "Ready when you are!"

Silence, again. Whatever Adam wants to tell her must be pressing on him. Her fingers twitch over the keyboard, and she shifts her hold on her phone to her shoulder.

"Use the typical template, fill it out with your name as the recipient and mine as the discloser. Have clause three saying that you may not share the information with anyone under any circumstances other than if your silence will cause direct, certain harm, and edit clause six to include that you may not create any notes or recordings of any of the confidential information I disclose, paraphrased or otherwise. The term is indefinite, oh, and clause four point a, specify it does not apply to commenting on any otherwise leaked information." Adam breathes, "You can back out whenever until the thing is signed, of course."

Snorting, Maryam checks over her work- she's efficient and Adam knows it- and presses the print button. "Too late, I've got a pen out, Bismillah. Who do you want me to forge into our witness?" Easy, she rolls over to the printer in her chair, signing herself and forging Adam in right against a clipboard that lives at the printer shrine for this exact purpose.

"Go catch someone in the hallway, I'd like this to be a somewhat credible document." Sounding slumped, Adam breathes.

Not one to need being told twice, Maryam bolts for the door, unlocks and waves down a random group of employees passing by- presumably about to leave- with the clipboard. "Hey! Anyone want to be legally liable? Or, well, make me legally liable. Boss' having me sign an NDA."

The employees- all from lower tiers, so generally not overly familiar to her- look between each other before one of them shrugs, trots over and signs where Maryam points them to. Bowing her gratitude, she twirls back into the office and locks again. "Done and dusted, what's the confidential information?"

Even through phone speakers, she hears Adam sigh.

"I- have a new roommate. He is literally the most perfect thing on planet Earth. How the fuck am I meant to cope?" Trailing low into a pathetic whine by the final sentence, Adam bemoans, and oh, that sounds like a crush. Holy shit life's unfair, Maryam can't even breathe a word about this- anyway.

"Hm, well it sounds like you want to take care of him. What's the issue with just spoiling the guy?" Back on the sofa, she pulls off her Mary Janes, folding her legs under her.

"We're not, like, a thing, Maryam. He spooks so easily at too much touch, not to mention his metric of 'too much' is so different- I feel sick, I'm gonna dieeee." No doubt draping over something like the hopeless slinky he is, Adam groans. He doesn't ask if Maryam's ever felt this way, doesn't divert attention; he wanted to share, clearly, but it's still a little weird that he’s doing this at all.

Chest tight, Maryam worries her lip as she smiles. "Wanna tell me more about what he might like as a gift, then? Brainstorm solutions, In Shaa Allah, figure out what your boy-toy to be will go crazy for."

A moment of silence. "He really likes that blindfold Besouro gifted me. Blindfolds like that aren't very expensive, though, and mine works just fine. Would he like some kind of kit for making stained glass windows?? He said he was always sad his church didn't have one of those and loved to make fake ones with plastic and sharpies- that's probably something to ask, god. Maryaaaam, how do you do this?"

Oh no, Adam's down bad. It doesn't even sound like he's trying to change topics, just- genuinely in need. Maryam shifts, biting at her barely contained grin. "Well, okay, what's his vibe? Maybe you can find something by thinking less specific things, you know, open your mind." Maybe this is a bit less of a helpful question and more of her trying to suss out as much as she can in what will probably be one single conversation where she gets to learn something her boss deems 'personal', Astaghfirullah.

Man, will she be the only one in the whole wide world who actually knows his type-

"He's... He's divine, Maryam. So effortlessly cool, it's like he doesn't need to think even for a second for witty comebacks, and so caring, and he hates overly sweet things but I bet if I took a bite I'd taste honey. He doesn't like hugs, but he pushed past it to comfort me and I nearly had a heart attack. And I can't do anything! Because- because I'm dumb. This situation is dumb. Man, if I didn't act so impulsively- sorry, I, it's-"

"Breathe, Adam." Straightening, Maryam soothes before her boss can choke on his own throat, "I don't know what your situation is, and I won't push, but I'm sure you can handle it. If he's really as lovely as you say, I'm sure he'll work with you and not against you, yeah? It sounds like he cares about you, you know." She smiles, sweet, hoping it carries through the speakers.

This is the most vulnerable Adam's ever been with her. Tight in the chest, she pulls her legs up and squeezes herself into a hug. Really, the worst thing about Adam Pereira's secretive nature is, he loves to listen, it's almost harder not to tell him things. Try to share his burdens, though, try to give him the kind attention he blankets everyone with so easily, and he's gone.

... Huh. She didn't realise him pushing her away hurt, until now-

"I- there's a power imbalance. He can't- I don't want to force him." Choked, Adam says.

Breathing, Maryam wets her lips and eases up her muscles. "Hey, I'm not forcing my sugar babies even if I'm much more influential than them, right? It's no big deal if you both understand-"

"None of your sugar babies were homeless before you took them in, Maryam." Adam snaps.

Oh. Oh, that's-

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to- it's fine, it's fine. I just, I won't be making any moves, I've been good at it. Some kind of completely not-suggestive gift that he could sell for a shit load of money if he ever needs to escape, and- and that's fine. It's- sorry, I'll-"

"Adam-" What does Maryam say, he'll probably hang up soon, "it's okay. It sounds like you love him, that's- that's hard. I don't know what exactly you did, but- I know you won't hurt him, because you care, a lot, and you're good at it. Just- please come to me to let it out every once in a while, okay? It hurts to be shut out of your life like that, to never be able to give back- I mean, it's fine, if you just talk to your therapist about it it's fine, you don't have to- you don't have to push yourself. Just, I'm here for you, okay?"

Silence. Did he hang up and she not notice-

Heavy, a breath crackles through the speakers. "I- I brought him here from Florida." Adam confesses, "And I... Over-exaggerated the dangers of me just, sponsoring him to help him out of poverty." Another breath, shuddering, "I don't know what it is. I've never felt this way before, but we were talking and, shit, I wanted to have him. Just for myself, close, soft, perfect. And then it was too late to back out, and I'm just- finding whatever excuse I can to throw money at him so he doesn't get trapped. And I- I'm sorry, it shouldn't be your problem."

A warmth unspools, loosening tension, through Maryam's body. "I want it to be my problem, you silly boy. We've known each other for over two years, closely for over one, you know how bad I wanted you to trust me?" She snorts, tenses, shakes her head, "Back to the topic though, you fell in love, and now you know those stupid romances don't exaggerate. You're fixing it all up, aren't you? You'll tell him the truth soon, I know you, and In Shaa Allah, you'll let him go if he wants to go. If you don't, you'll now have to deal with me knowing, and I won't be sweet about it. I promise it'll be okay, yeah? It's a bad deal, and you know well how to make the best out of those."

Silence. Adam sighs before Maryam can even get worried, the smallest groan hiding in his breath. "Shit. I'm sorry I hurt you. I-" Light, he huffs, "It never occurred to me people could be really sad that I don't share. Guess I am a silly boy, damn." Humour no-doubt forced in his voice, he exhales, long and heavy but seemingly smiling, "You're a charm, you know that, Mary?"

He's said that before. Somehow, this particular time it's like peach soufflet on Maryam's tongue, soft, warm and sweet; she's really, really very soft for people trusting her, relying on her, wanting her, isn't she? Crinkles in her eyes, she giggles. "I'm glad. And it's not that bad, I had a lot of practice with clammed up men since I was very little. What's one more to the pile?"

Whining like he did in the beginning of the call, Adam's probably all shrimpy with his posture as his smile flows through the speakers. "I'm not even ashamed, is the thing!! I'm just paranoid! Jesus Christ, this is awful." Light, he jokes.

It's so nice to have one of Maryam's best friends finally reciprocating. Allah, she may just cry.

Instead, she glances to the clock, and blinks at the time. Four eleven! Her shift's over and she'll be late to get home in time for Maghrib if she doesn't get a move on. "Mhm, well, I won't tell no one, not even the first man I ever pincered out of his clam little shell, so you're gonna be safe. Now go! Get your crush a gift. If he's one of ours, nothing's less suggestive than a childhood dream, you know? Get him a barbie or a fire truck or something, In Shaa Allah, he'll like it. Tell me how it goes, good luck!"

With that, Maryam hangs up on him. She can only imagine him cursing the air, but she does get an email that she received a bonus just as she's about to shut off her computer; it's as playful as ever, and the tea roses blooming in her chest open sweeter than they have in days.

Truly, there's no drug like earning someone's trust.