#i wish i could cite sources and stuff for you. i want to be an academic expert. unfortunately i have a real life job :(

[not-cool-enough-to-scuba-dive]

actually I would quite like to hear your thoughts on gender philosophy in omegaverse worldbuilding? :3

hm. anon, I fear this is a far larger can of worms than you probably anticipated. I'm going to spare you the worst of it by only giving you a short version, but be careful what you wish for.

I'm also hiding it under a cut because even the short version is embarrassingly long.

I'm hardly a connoisseur of omegaverse content, nor would I consider myself anywhere near an expert. I don't want to speak for all fics as I've admittedly not read many. I did do my master's diss about legal gender recognition, so this is more about gender and philosophically sound worldbuilding than an indictment of any particular writing or story tbh.

the short answer is I find omegaverse worldbuilding really interesting, but I've never fully been able to enjoy it due to the way a/b/o identities tend to have a biological determinist slant to them imo, and tendency for a lack of real world implications of what the omegaverse does to gender and character interactions anywhere outside the bedroom. I'd love to figure out a version that's more inclusive and philosophically/ideologically consistent, both with itself and with my own views on real life gender (basically, I want to make it make more sense, have less biological determinism, and be more inclusive of the wider range of human experiences). this is a big task, and ngl I haven't achieved it and don't anticipate doing so any time soon. I have like, a concept in my head, taking apart all the key pieces and putting them together again but different, but to make it thorough enough would require more effort and time than I have because I'm like, employed 😔

I feel like someday if I ever get invited to a powerpoint night though, this could be It.

[thrown-away-opinions]

So I made the mistake of watching the hbomberguy plagiarism video. I don't know why, because I kinda hate him and his entire shtick and his entire sanpaku-eyed desperate style of presentation that screams "please think I'm smart and that I am a moral cool guy who does good things!"

Anyways, the dumb fuck kinda missed the mark by a mile and the urgency and drama he tries to invoke amounts to being very angry that some people have made careers out of regurgitating other people's work. There's a few reasons why, but let's set this right up front: Yes, plagiarism is bad. It's a terrible thing to steal someone else's work, pass it off as your own, and then try to weasel out of it when caught. It's also an extremely stupid thing to do, especially if your job is writing reviews or giving your own opinions on some piece of media and plagiarism leads to reciting factually incorrect information.

That said, there's a few assertions and implications in this retardedly long video that stuck out to me and I want to talk, at length, about them. That these people have made a lot of money and are therefore bad. That citations or crediting sources would have changed something. That people careers have been damaged or somehow denied big piles of money because they were plagiarized.

Making a lot of money seems more like a vague sort of "rich people bad" but it's such a hollow assertion to make. Youtube financially incentivizes content creation or a certain type, quantity, and regularity. The algorithm is a slot machine. Ad revenue is just money on the table, and if someone disables the ad revenue on their videos, youtube runs ads anyways and the channel just doesn't get any of the money generated. As for stuff like patreon and parasocial simp behavior, you can't really stop people from doing what they want with their money. Hasan Piker became a millionaire because retards like throw money at him to watch other people's youtube videos and occasionally say the dumbest shit imaginable. If we could stop people from watching, let alone financially supporting dipshits, we would, but we can't. Being mad that they're making money from is just petty, especially if the implication is that being rich makes someone evil and bad, but at the same time, wishing that other people whom Hbomberguy ideologically jive with should be the rich ones instead. It's moronic.

It sounds reductive to just say "don't hate the player, hate the game" because the sort of shameless scumbags who will eagerly plagiarize and openly steal other people's work are detestable. I don't want the takeaway here to be that I think they are harmless or absolved of guilt. The problem is simply something far larger than youtube or social media. It's something that is not caused by the temptation of getting easy money from stealing ideas, but something that is inherent in the sorts of opportunistic scumbags that have always existed all throughout human history. Trying to shame them or expose them can only accomplish so much when they are already shameless to begin with.

Moving on to the value of citations, aside from being a genuinely nice and professional thing to do, it would not meaningfully change the profitability of content mill channels who largely use other people's work to rapidly produce videos faster than a real writer/researcher could script them. At most, it would add a slight bit more runtime and put more text in the very easy to ignore "about" section of a video, which would never get seen by 99% of viewers. Trying to impose some sort of labor speedbump by demanding citations and credits won't meaningfully stop these people from profiting off other people's work at a speed honest creators couldn't match anyways because they've been burdened by a sense of self-respect and honesty.

Furthermore, properly cited credit will not divert viewers and fans towards monetarily supporting the sources, nor encourage the diehards on patreon to stop donating. Youtube will still give the payout for the views and clicks and engagement on a video that can be 100% regurgitated, copied content, cited or not, regardless.

Additionally, the reasons people watch certain youtubers and types of content is often totally divorced from any thoughts about academic ethics. Most of the time, the audience doesn't even care because that doesn't even factor into their enjoyment of some background noise video or hearing a youtuber they like talk about something they might be mildly interested in.

Not to mention that there are countless successful youtubers who making a living reading reddit posts, reciting lore from fan wikis, reading 4chan greentexts in funny voices, or just "reacting" to other people's videos, just literally reading things other people have written word for word. This is content that is both directly cited and stuff that has no author to credit or cite at all but is still stolen. Despite knowing the content is stolen, uncited, plagiarized, etc, people watch them anyways and ad revenue payout happens regardless. There's functionally no difference, credited or not, but one is seemingly permissible because it's open about using other people's writing or research or ideas.

Is it a huge fucking problem that is turning the internet into a terrible place? Absolutely, but it wouldn't make a fucking difference if they cited the content they were reposting, because the core problem is actually the way youtube and other social media sites tell people they'll pay them for generating that sludge content, even if it's stolen, reposted, or purposefully made in a way to abuse the algorithm.

The last point I feel like covering is the idea that the specific plagiarists are denying money and career advancement to others by stealing from them. The implication being that because someone thinks the guy who makes awful video essays about Disney and Queerness who lifts his scripts almost 100% from books he never credits, the writers of those authors are being denied money and their careers as "voices of the queer community" or whatever, have been kneecapped because one other guy took all the credit. Implying that they would be the recipients of all the success, money, and career growth that Queer Plagiarist man, and others, have gained if they hadn't be plagiarized from.

This is moronic for a number of reasons, most of which I've already discussed. The most obvious reason being that they are often competing in completely different areas. The audiences giving clicks and views to the plagiarist aren't making the choice between purchasing a book or watching a youtuber. Published books aren't listed in youtube searches or recommendations.

People can both read books and watch youtube videos, if they want, but clicking on a youtube video isn't at all the same as shopping around to decide which creator is the most ethical and deserving of any sort of financial compensation. Even if the books were cited and listed, at most it amounts to a few sales, if any. However, the supposed outrage is the lack of citation and credit, not that we should be demanding promotion and advertising from youtubers or that every quotation or idea lifted from someone else needs to come with a proportional amount of reimbursement

If it's an article instead, like the case with the 'Man in Cave' video, there's nothing being sold and and the youtuber's career maintains the same trajectory, even if clearly cited and credited, still gains the same audience, the same patreon donors etc. At best, the article might get a few more clicks, so the outrage there is that some clickbait factoid site like Mental Floss didn't collect more ad revenue of its own, which is especially interesting since most of what Mental Floss does is repost articles from other sites with a little link at the bottom that shows you they didn't write shit. Fancy that.

But there's also this direct assertion that other people making similar content about, for example, queerness in Disney media are being denied the fame and success they rightfully deserve because someone else got more popular by being a plagiarist. While there may be a finite amount of time in the world for people to watch youtube videos about stupid bullshit, it is not so finite that it is an all or not situation. People can subscribe to more than one person about a given subject. One person being successful through plagiarism does not exclude anyone else from also being successful on their own merits. If they aren't successful, you can blame the algorithm, lack of interest, or the quality of their actual work.

A similar implication is that if someone were properly recognized for their work through being credited on a video that gets millions of views, that more job offers or interviews or some kind of improvement to their general socioeconomic status would be dropped in their lap. That may be true in matters of outright content theft where a relatively unknown creator loses all views and clicks on something that got stolen by a bigger channel, but not when we're talking about someone who already had a book publishing deal or peer reviewed research.

This kind of echoes the first point about money, but with popularity instead. Impotently whining that someone else got famous when what he wants is for someone better, less objectionable, to get the popularity... and I think that's what's really at the core of hbomberguy's stupidly long video (and this stupidly long rant). He only wants people he likes to be successful and is upset that he can't take that away from them. Plagiarism is just a convenient moral cudgel to wield and a convenient way to whip up his simple minded fans into another witch hunt.

If you go and check Internet Historian's latest video, you can see a significant amount of dislikes, and the comments section is full of people screaming about plagiarism and Tommy Tallarico, who was another target of hbomberguy's obnoxiously elaborate bullshit previously. There's no chance in hell that these people are actually outraged that mentalfloss wasn't properly credited, but they love that sensational self-righteous high they get from joining the latest angry mob whipped up by famous internet smart guy and maker of pretentious videos, hbomberguy.

Now, where does that leave us after all of that shit I just wrote? Well, if there's anything to take away, it's to understand that there are shameless, opportunistic scumbags out there who are constantly looking for their chance to exploit a system for personal gain. Not just on youtube, but everywhere. Crypto. Life coach sigma male shit. Politics. Twitter engagement farming. etc etc. As long as their behavior can be rewarded, they will continue doing it. So get better about spotting it and learn to block, filter, and excise it from whatever feeds you use and expect the same of your friends.

When it comes to the creators you follow, hold certain standards, but know that there is a limit to the moral purity you can expect from them. For most of the big ones out there, the goal is to make money. You can demand proper citations and such from all of them, but then they'll go and take a sponsorship deal from Established titles or Better help or some NFT scam, and that's exponentially worse than presenting information in a way that may making the audience incorrectly assume they've done exhaustive research on a topic when they're just quoting someone else.

And lastly: stop watching Hbomberguy. He's a sanctimonious retard.

[marxism-transgenderism]

I was tagged by @mithli to post some of the books I read this year. P sure it's supposed to be top 10 best but I only read 7 lol. Gonna talk about them more under the cut cause I wanna

I tag @cyanociitta @aspoopalypse @lesbianbrad @post-brahminism @killyfromblame @deadryn and anyone else who wants to do it just say I tagged you and do it !!! And idc if you've only even read one book this year tell us about it !!

Autumn of the Black Snake was a very good history of the wars between the US and the Indigenous confederacy in the Ohio River valley in the 1790s. It had some issues I could get into but as far as most settler-written histories this was one of the best. It did a very good job of breathing life into the figures and really diving into the personal schemes which motivated colonialism here

Indigenous Prosperity and American Conquest was an absolutely incredible book going over mountains of evidence to show to high amount of prosperity of Indigenous nations here and how the the theft of that wealth function on a small and large scale. It's very academic and also got its issues but cannot recommend it enough

Hoosiers was actually the first book I read when I started this and is partially what motivated me to keep ready cause fuck does this thing suck. Like it's not terrible and gave a good intro to the early colonization of what is now Indiana but then it just ignores the brutality it described to talk about how cool and awesome the US system of settlement is and then drops any talk of Indigenous people after like 1812. My hope is to rip it to shreds one day with what I've learned

An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States is always a classic. I've had to return to this book a lot over the years and it still holds up. I do wish it touched more on the the history here other than Tecumseh but I get why it didn't. Please read this fucking book

Contested Territories is one I need to return to cause I read it too early into my research and did not have the context to grab all its details. It's a collection of modern research on the lower great lakes and had some great stuff but a lot I'll need to reevaluate now that I know more

myaamiaki aancihsaaciki isn't really a book but I'm counting it anyway. It's a summary of the removal route of the Myaamia to Oklahoma and a collection of primary sources about the removal. It's a excellent resource and there's a free pdf of the Miami Tribe of Oklahomas website

Settler Colonialism and the Transformation of Anthropology is one I've only just started but so far its excellent. It's like the foundational work for the moden academic study of settler colonialism so it's cited in like everything I've read

[toonfanatic08]

do u have any headcanons for ickis questionmark

slams the fucking door open

the question is not do i , but its…. how many do i have ;-) keep in mind that aahhh!!! real monsters is a very intense special interest of mine so its extremely personal to me. because of that, my HCs are also personal interpretation and may not be everyone's cup of tea. my experiences inform my perception of media, and thereby i will probably have a lot of biases. please dont make fun of me yall im paranoid as shit clears throat dramatically

look at him... he means everything to me... <3

autistic

so i am an avid autistic "ickis is autistic" truther. i want a fanfic where he gets diagnosed with the monster equivalent of autism and if nobody here will do it, well nelly i may just Do It Myself ! a lot of the stuff the gromble shits on him for, and much of what he is ostracized for by others is actually autistic traits if you look closely. warning this can make you see the show in a MUCH different light. i literally was not the same after i realized it. it kind of makes it about an autistic creature experiencing ableism and being victim blamed for it. story of my life :')

sensory issues. in season 2's "rosh-o-monster," he's quickly overstimulated by the opera singer in the theater theyre in. same season's "mayberry ufo", the harsh rocking of the carriage theyre on clearly stresses him out too.

in the season 2 episode "the ickis box", he develops a hyperfixation on televisions and building one. he also shows an example of stimming in this episode too with the way he starts grooving relentlessly to the television music in the beginning. there's even this quote here:

Ickis: I couldn't help it. I was swept away! It was all so magnificent. (from ahh real monsters wiki, linked later in this document!) i must also mention it's punk/rock music! again! this adds proof to my headcanon that he would probably be a punk enjoyer.

this was pointed out by another tumblr post headcanoning this too but at some point he even says " i wish i was a better judge of character." this is from the season 3 episode "cement heads", in which he's taken advantage of by the taffy gang to break them out of their gargoyle state. the post is here! i credit lots of my opinions to that because the media literacy is excellent here and it gave me Many ideas i did not think of initially.

this, secondly, was also borrowed from the tumblr post. he seems to have a budding possible special interest in human culture. i want to cite these episodes, "hats off", again "the ickis box", "into the woods", in which he even reached out to a human for help (bradley). and "monster blues", in which he develops a bond with a blind man. he seems to have like this general curiosity for stuff concerning it and whatnot. time and time again, hes shown to be the most open to the idea of humans even though his society is not.

this was thirdly also pointed out by the tumblr post. motor skill issues, which can be attributed to problems with proprioception. but i can cite an additional example. [the ep where he like has his foot run over by a car when trying to scare two teenagers. i can't remember the title. my source is: trust me bro. i will edit this when i figure out which one it was]

this is an obscure trait but he has a unique form of vocal tone. it could be called hyperexpressive vocal prosody. or a "sing-songy" tone. i like to attribute his expressiveness to autism as well.

he has had many moments in the series that resemble meltdowns/panic attacks.

different types of stimming as well. throughout the series he tends to pace back and forth, pull on his ears, or makes squeaks and voice cracks.

there is also echolalia present. here is a particular example… in the end of "wake me up when it's over", in which this exchange happens:

Oblina: Ickis, did you eat this skanky stuff? Ickis: Yes, I ate this skanky stuff. Oblina: Well, no wonder you have been sleep-scaring! Ickis: Well, no wonder I've been sleep-scaring! Oblina: And now you should be fine. Ickis: And now I should be fi… Is there an echo in here? (~transcript exerpt from here.)

overall my mind is obsessed with how well it depicts autism for me personally. like he depicts how i was my whole life, being blamed for things i can't really control. i cannot express enough how much ickis means to me as a character. because it means that again as i mentioned at the beginning, the stuff he gets ostracized for is autistic traits, it makes the story so tragic and fucked up when u think about it like this. it means everything to me and i cannot stop thinking about it.

adhd

interest-based attention and cognition. easily distracted and tends to procrastinate (literally transient throughout the series. his common procrastination and seeking for shortcuts on assignments, etc. its a rather common source of plot in the show.)

impulsivity. such as in "this is your brain on ickis."

rejection-sensitive dysphoria such as in season 2 episodes "monster blues", "spontaneously combustible", and other similar episodes. RSD is often associated with autism, adhd, and other types of conditions. i may add more adhd symptoms onto this if i find them when i rewatch the cartoon

generalized anxiety disorder, with panic attacks

in the NICKsclusive aahh!! real monsters interview, he was canonically described by his voice actor (charlie adler) as "neurotic", which is from the outdated psychological term "neurosis". it denotes symptoms of stress or mood disturbance. in colloquial use signifies a rather anxious, obsessive, or nervous person. i just thought this was interesting so i included it here.

his frequent anxiety and worries, especially in the earlier seasons. as generalized anxiety disorder is transient worry across many things in life, (i myself have it!)

okay ! now these next headcanons have less substantial proof than the others.

gender. orientation things

non-binary . he/they/it/xe. possibly also genderfluid or boyflux. again once again in "monster blues", he literally states "i'm not a boy, i'm a monster!". there are times where the show actually uses both masculine AND neutral titles for him. as for orientation i am not entirely sure. maybe bisexual or just queer?

miscellaneous

he would be punk if he had more exposure to it! in the episode with the punk/rock band (there is a clip of it online but i cant remember the name of the episode,) he clearly enjoys the music and is grooving relentlessly. also, the previous example i mentioned of the episode "the ickis box", too.

he would listen to dead kennedys and sex pistols absolutely. i dont know a Lot of punk bands though, so maybe i will add onto this once i listen to more.

i also feel like he would enjoy motorhead, megadeth, and possibly probably deftones and insane clown posse but i could be projecting haha. maybe classics like elvis as well. no i am totally projecting :') okay um that's some of my major ones. i am very autistic this is just over a thousand words. help.

[kittykatinabag]

I wish I could remember exactly what happened to make me so avoidant to go on deep dive research tirades and write up my thoughts on stuff. It used to be a fun thing I did at one point, even if back then it was 90% the world building of various anime series, the other 10% was other Wikipedia rabbit holes I'd go down on like history or evolutionary biology or geologic records or space stuff or attempts at understanding metamaterials.

But at some point actually writing down these explorations stopped. My logical reason is that since this avoidance started either sometime in late high school or freshmen year of college, the whole plagerism lectures and absolute insistence that citing every single source and justifying every single thought in your head with evidence absolutely fucked my thought process up. But that can't be the only thing. There must have been some event or some person that affected me so much that I internalized the conclusion of "ok, anything I remotely feel, think, and especially speak about has to have some connection and evidence to it or else it doesn't count as valid"

But when I frame it in the justification way, that feeling stretches way back before I was initially doing deep dive research tirades. It stretches back to childhood and probably originates among one of the many times my parents called me a crybaby or disapproved/didn't care about something I liked because when answering the question of "why do you like [insert thing here]?" whatever answer I gave was either too vague or "wasn't a good enough reason." Or that time when I was 12 and after weeks to months of research on depression when trying to broach the topic of depression and therapy and the innate sense I had that basically boiled down to "I think I'm broken", my mom instead went on a rant about how depressed people don't exist and they just need to 'do things and talk to people' and they won't be depressed anymore.

She's a lot better about mental health stuff now but still not exactly the most receptive as I think she's never experienced it for a prolonged period of time. Which is why I still don't really divulge just how bad my own mental health was at certain points in my life.

Tangent aside, it would be nice if I could pinpoint a moment or the stretch of time when the avoidance fully started to manifest. Even when shouting into my various voids of shouting where little to no eyes see, whether it be this blog or the various spiral notebooks that I treat as a catch all for diary-ish entries, scrap paper, and other thoughts, I can't shake the feeling of not wanting to put down my thoughts. Perhaps it's like the way I explain my anxiety, the eyes in the walls feeling. Think panopticon but instead of one tower seeing everything, everything is seeing the one tower that is my physical being. I say physical being because for the most part as long as it doesn't transfer to my facial expressions or body language, I'm fine with whatever knowledge I can remember knocking about in my thoughts. Perhaps it's the observation of it all, even if the only observation is my own eyes. Something about the physicality of it makes me pause. Perhaps it makes it real, and when it's real it's a lot harder to fix if it ends up flawed.

Because god forbid anything be flawed right? /s

[cccrhirdb1]

week 2 independent extra work

Extra if you are interested (2 hours)

WRITE: Self-directed work on your assignment. Begin drafting your definition of the key term you have decided to focus on, using resources from the course and the Massey library databases.

Make sure you cite your sources as you go, so you don't have to back-track to finds these again when you have finished writing.

I am finding myself really drawn to matariki, my knowledge around it is limited so I think I will find enjoyment out of educating myself further. I guess i will decide which aspect of it that I am drawn to the most, so far I like the idea of decolonising the time, we live in a world based off of the gregorian northern hemisphere calendar, that makes no sense to the environment we live in.

I like this idea with matariki and time, how it calls upon those to spend time together with family, how afterwards it is encoraging us to take time off, but while researching I am finding things that I know I can relate to other things e.g this quote from dr. rangi matamua “I understand that there are tribal variations and differences, and that's awesome. It's meant to be different because we're different. I really support the coming through of traditional regional variations. My version has nine stars, because I can only go off what my ancestor says. If you have seven, have seven, if you have Puanga, have Puanga. And for Pākeha, accepting that has been a lot better, but Māori, we can get pretty territorial about stuff, like 'that's not what we believe'. That's the bit that makes me hōhā because that's not the point. The point is we celebrate it.” - which could be related to idea's in the Oxford History of Science soooo i guess i need to pick what aspect.

I could also go with how reading the stars gives us wisdom and tells us about the year ahead - wishing to different stars can mean different things, what all the different stars mean in my understanding etc.

FIND: 2 or 3 examples of art or design works that relate to the ideas you are discussing in your definition.

now I still do not know what it means exactly by ideas i am discussing in my definition because I have no idea if it does want me to have my own definition for matariki. but I have found a couple of works that respond to ideas of/around matariki. Alot of the pieces of art/design I have found personify the stars in some way rather than potentially relating to my definition, but I guess as I delve further I can expand my definition and this may become a part of it.

emblem made with the matariki stars

this coat of arms was requested by King Tawhiao in the late 19th century. it includes sevens stars of matariki and is also known as Te Paki O Matariki (the fine weather of matariki). This expression refers on one level to the the king's senior men whose support sustained the king movement.

personified versions of the matariki stars

stars that were in rangi matamua's book and also in the matarki resources for 2023 (i cannot find who the artist/designer is)

dance of the pleiades by Elihu Vedder 1885 - the name for matariki viewable in the northern hemisphere.

matariki pendants made by mountain jade

they were designed by Tamaora Walker and Akapita Scally, these absolutely beautiful taonga were made for the 2022 maori new year. Tamaora and Akapita drew on the concept of Kaitiaki. Known as a guardian kaitiaki are responsible for protecting something very special - similarly to the stars who stand for something and represents things such as food that comes from the sky or the earth or salt water or freshwater. Tamaora and Akapita took these concepts and ideas and created the stars as guardians of their element. they look beautiful and are finely crafted pieces of art.

i can't figure out how to rotate this image its just a poster that got put in my mailbox. but this poster promotes puanga - the celebration of matariki. Puanga is a single star that appears in the evening sky shortly before matariki rises each year. Puanga rises higher in the sky than matariki so it's recognized over matariki by some iwi and hapu who cannot view matariki. This was designed by David Hakaraia and is referencing the view of Puanga and matariki from the ahumairangi hill. He says of the work that the sky represents a kereru, fat from eating miro berries preceding the rising of Puanga.

[theduderdrew]

I’m An Old Man Now

I am now deciding at the ripe age of 26 to write my thoughts out on a *public forum.

It’s been a while. I genuinely cannot remember the last time I was on this app. Which is good. In regards to what I want to use this app for, I’m okay with that. I can’t afford a therapist so I’m good with a bit of discretion.

Where to start, though? So much has happened in my 26 years of life. I kinda wished I would have done this earlier so I could bounce some of these ideas off of something. 26-year-old me and 23-year-old me had vastly different perspectives of the world. Wish I could talk to that kid nowadays. He was bright and bubbly. Hell, 17-year-old me was even more joyful than him. Would be great to get a room with all these versions of myself and discuss what kind of music we like. Maybe what kind of actors we’re obsessed with. Who we are chasing after at the moment romantically. Now that’s a good source of a lot of my unresolved issues lol. Whatever, this is a tangent.

I guess these things will be kind of free form…stream of consciousness?? Sure, whatever comes to mind. That sounds good. I just want to leave something behind I reckon. Something I can look back on and say, “Yeah, that’s me at 26 FOR SURE.” Something to look back on and cringe. I used to write a lot on notebooks. I have a trusty stack of them, but pages are missing. Torn from them because I couldn’t stand to look at stuff I would have wrote while I’m drunk. Or high. Or sad. Or angry. Or happy. Everything involving me gives me the ick. Also, you’ve picked up the lingo “(insert thing here) gives me the ick” Future Drew. Good luck shaking that off.

Where was I? Current way of thinking. So you are in a relationship that has you torn. Torn in a way you were not expecting. All of the friends you have cultivated since high school/college are now contemplating cutting you off (or already have) because you are isolating again. You’ve spent a lot of time with your partner. It’s a personal choice. You really feel completely comfortable with her. She has a ton of flaws, but you love her. You kind of feel trapped because of the amount of love you have for her. But it’s a partner you have actually felt something for. That’s not a dig at the past s/o’s. You have a soft spot for all of them but they set your entire being on fire like this person does. That’s why you can’t get away. You’ve cancelled plans. Cut off your friends. Haven’t reached out. All of your energy belongs to her. Which no one could possibly understand it. It’s unhealthy. You’ve never had healthy relationships to set a system of role modeling on.

Your parents were dysfunctional. Your step dad and mom divorced after a tumultuous 10+ years. They sucked for each other. It wasn’t until your mom and biological sperm donor got back together that you wished for the previous dysfunction. Well, not exactly. That’s not fair. You are so emotionally distant that you can’t possibly give a shit about what your mother decides to do with her romantic life. You only hope she gets the help she absolutely needs. Could be a projection of your own problems, but we all need help right?

Back to the friends. They are tired of my shenanigans. They don’t like the neglect. I don’t blame them, though. In some ways, I believe I’ve outgrown them. But that would imply that you have grown since 17 (*spoiler* you have NOT). To be fair, however, I do have a yearning to reach out to other people. Visit other places. Ingrain myself in other environments that isn’t Atlanta, GA (that is where you live at the moment). The only problem is where you live now (previously mentioned) is owned by one of said friends. You’ve also really hurt her apparently. She cried in front of you, citing that you haven’t been a great friend. The house has been super AWKWARD since. How were you supposed to know though? You were so far up your own ass you couldn’t see the damage you were causing. Now that you are out, smelling the roses, the roses are dying. They have been relocated. Away from you. You’re gonna be alone for a while, so you need to get used to it. Just like your dear old dad.

You have been spending a lot of time with John. He is still selfish. Still a loner. A hermit. A republican? Didn’t see that one coming. You allotted time to spend with him, usually on Monday nights. This is football time for your old man, so you don’t have to talk much. It’s better that way. Better to not address the years I haven’t seen the guy. Keep that elephant in the corner. However, since the breakup, you’ve neglected mom. You can’t even place her. Mom’s divorce has taken her out of the home she knew for 10+ years and into the unknown. And you’re watching football. Fuck you. I don’t care if you are working and it’s the only convenient place, you need to be there for Mom. And you’re not. This Christmas will be the only time in a month you have bothered to hang out with her. That’s hurtful, man. Do better. Stop putting your energy in the things that you have lost before and could lose again (i.e. relationships, your father). That’s a bit unfair. You desperately want to rebuild these relationships into your version of happiness. It could work. But you’ll need to neglect those who were there before your Dad and your current partner. What can you do? How can you juggle? You friends hate the girlfriend you have now. Your mom hates (but actually fucking LOVES) your father. Will the balls stay in the air or fall down with every other lost relationship or friendship you’ve managed to fuck up in the past. Only time will tell. That’s the beauty of this immersive sim game we call life. You can make it your own.

I’m gonna call it a night. I’ve made an ass of myself enough. Hopefully I can private this shit. Good night.

*Touch The Sun - Cryalot*

[palpipeen]

Caf Delivery Service Part 3 - CC-1010 Fox/Reader

Your job should be easy, in theory. Take caf orders once a week for the Coruscant Guard, make the orders, and deliver them. Simple as can be. So long as you don’t count the Commander, that is.

Rating: NC-17 Warnings: Sexual Content, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, Frotting, Handjob, Come Eating, Sloppy Makeouts, Dirty Talk, Reader overthinking everything AGAIN, Fox has a lot of emotions and not enough sleep to navigate them, Helmet Kink (?), They have to talk like adults and woh that's scary, The seggsy times happens in a utility closet haha oops Reader is AFAB and uses She/Her Pronouns Word Count: 6507 (oops) AN: Based on the increase in word count, I'm going to operate under the assumption that we all know stuff is going down in this chapter! I didn't want to split it up bc it didn't read right when I did. The next few chapters might be this long, they might be the same length as previous ones. Anyway. Expect more spice but also A LOT OF ANGST in the next chapter~ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

NSFW/18+ Under the Cut! MINORS DNI

If there was a word in Basic that could describe a thousand times worse than nervous, you were fairly certain you’d be the definition of it. Cited as the source of it. They could write research papers about you and advance the study of mental health in a day, with the leaps and bounds of logic your brain was making.

Needless to say, you’re kind of terrified. You’re pretty sure you’ve worn down your nails to the quick. (You haven’t, it just feels like it.) The only reason why you’re okay with this in the first place is Thorn and Hound assured you they’d be right outside. Not that their assurances insinuated the Commander would do anything untoward - just to prevent anyone from thinking something like that would happen.

But let’s be honest here, part of you wished something like that would happen.

It’s difficult to unpack everything, but you can’t help it. You’ve been obsessing over every minute detail the entire twenty-four hours before you’re supposed to be at Fox’s office. And it’s been difficult because everything with Fox is so up-and-down. It’s been an exhausting day even if you didn’t do much at work or at home. But does that stop you from worrying about how intense your feelings for him are?

Sure as shit doesn’t.

You have a crush on him. Okay, the idea of him, since you knew next to nothing about him besides his name a little over a month ago. He’s competent, a hard worker, and the awkward inability to stumble through small-talk was something you could relate to. But he was also abrasive at times, even a little hostile. None of which you deserved, which you hope you’ll be able to tell him when you arrive at his office.

Just because all of Coruscant walked all over him didn’t give him the right to walk all over you .

The drive there is a little jarring. Everything is so different in darkness. Well, relative darkness. You’re still thankful you put aside some credits to buy black-out curtains. The neon lights are a bit more garish and while there’s not as much rush-hour traffic, people are still impatient to get to where they’re going. Seeing crashes in Coruscant is fairly commonplace, but you see and nearly get clipped in about a dozen by the time you get to the Department building. Which does nothing for your already shot nerves.

You’re glad you showered before you came here, but you wonder if it did you any good with how much you’re sweating.

Standing at the stairs to the entryway makes you feel incredibly small. More than the senate buildings and businesses you’ve been to. It makes you feel insignificant, which is ironic in the worst way. The Guard has filled the role of protecting the Coruscant public - there are so many of them, and yet the Republic treats them like next to nothing. You’ve heard a few of them recounting the horrific interactions with senators or civilians. And you wonder if this is how all of them feel when filing into this building to report for duty.

It boils your blood. Sure, you get to have a little more one-on-one conversations with Hound and Thorn - but there are so many others you’ve come to know. There’s one with an auburesh tattoo on his left jaw who has to eat his croissants a certain way, and has to finish it before he’s even made it to his table or else he’ll catch hell from his brothers. And there’s the one with the sweet tooth who has striking gray eyes. ‘Something went wrong in my tube,’ he told you once, when he caught you staring. But you always make sure there’s an extra cherry pastry for him, and he’s one of the few who always takes time from his orders to make sure he holds the door open for you on your way out.

There’s more than a dozen who wait to hear your recommendations for the day. And half of them always go with whatever they’re familiar with, a little sheepish as they do it. But you know they enjoy hearing your suggestions. You’ve been told so many times by them that they appreciate what you do that you’ve lost count. And each time it’s so earnest . They mean it. And it’s unspoken, but when they tell you this, it feels like there’s some underlying words.

You see us , they say. You see us as living, breathing, bleeding individuals . The fact that they all share the same face and genetic material has become an afterthought to you by now. And their individuality means a lot to you. More than you’d realized until you’re on the lift to the right floor. Sometimes you swear they treat you like family, which is a rarity in your life you’ve come to cherish. You really hope that you can keep helping them feel seen. 

But that’s all on Commander Fox now.

By the time you’ve reached the floor his office is in, you’ve chewed a spot on your bottom lip raw. So you’ve got that going for you. It’s a good thing you didn’t have any caf this morning, because your stomach is in such a state of upset you’d book it for the fresher the second the doors open. But Thorn and Hound are there waiting for you, so - so -

You swallow, hard, and it feels like you just took a bite out of some sandpaper and thought it was a good idea to digest it. So everything sucks, that’s where you’re at.

“Thanks,” you eventually say as you step out of the elevator. When they don’t reply, you gesture vaguely in the direction of his office. “For this. Look, I’m sorry for being demanding, but —“

“You have no reason to apologize,” Hound says when you just. Stop talking. He shrugs when you look at him incredulously. “Commander’s a dick sometimes, but he has to deal with folks outside the senate sometimes. He’s gotta learn there’s consequences for being — “

“ — the way he is,” Thorn finishes when Hound seems to be at a loss for words.

“Right. Being like that. If you’re out, we’re out of decent caf for however long it takes for another shop to sling some out way.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” Even as much as you've thought Fox's up-and-down behavior made this not worth it, you know deep down you want this to work. For them. You take in a deep breath, and with a curt nod to them both you stride up to the door. It hisses open at your approach, and you step inside.

His helmet is off. That’s what you notice first, because of course you do. You’d been trying to ignore the butterflies in your gut the entire way here, and you’d done a decent job. But they come back with a vengeance the moment you see the unruly curls, the unshaven beginning of a beard along his jaw, and the deep circles under his eyes. Eyes that haven’t looked up from the datapad on his desk.

There’s a lot of silence. You stand there in it - drowning in it. Mired in it. The quiet is maddening. You can hear the pops in your jaw as you grind your teeth, the jingling of the zipper on your jacket is deafening. But worst of all, you can hear your thoughts.

This is so fucking stupid. He’s going to tell you to fuck yourself. He’s going to say you’re crazy for thinking he was flirting with you. Look at you, you just deliver caf - why would a man like him stoop that low? He’s going to he mad, he’s going to yell at you, he’s —

“Almost didn’t recognize you without the cart.” You nearly jump out of your skin, and there’s that quiet snort again. Definitely a laugh. His eyes flick up from the datapad to give you a quick look. And joy of joys, you can tell exactly nothing about what he’s thinking from that look. Just that he’s acknowledging your presence.

Sort of. Because after that, he goes quiet again. But he did break the seal, so…

“It wouldn’t fit in my speeder,” you say with a shrug. He snorts again, but it turns into a surprised laugh. Your eyebrows lift up at the sound. “Wow, did you actually sleep, or is laughing something that you’re capable of when you’re well rested?”

“Define ‘well rested.’”

“A solid eight standard hours that go uninterrupted?” He scoffs at you, and you fold your arms with an exasperated groan. “Let me guess, you don’t have time?”

“No. I don’t. And I really don’t have time for this,” he gestures between the two of you, ��either. So make it quick.”

“Thanks ever so much for taking time out of your busy schedule,” you say, rolling your eyes. You’ve just about had it, so you close the distance between you and his desk. Bracing your weight on your palms, you lean down so your eyes are level with his. “Look. The elevator thing. That wasn’t cool.”

“What, the boys not telling you about the others?”

“No, don’t play stupid, Commander. The whole — “ you glance away from him as you feel a blush creeping up your neck “ — when we were talking about what you wanted, and I accidentally…I mean when you said, but I’m sure you were just joking — “

“Oh, you mean when I came onto you.” You reel back from the desk, and he stands up. Slowly. He’s…huge. He’s broad - more than his brothers. How didn’t you notice?! You did, but it's just the context of this conversation that makes it really sink in. Fox’s eyes remain locked onto yours as he continues. “I wasn’t joking.”

“O-okay, cool!” Fuck’s sake, since when did your voice get that high? “Good to know, alright I, didn’t think - I didn’t want to make any stupid assumptions, I mean you’re - you’re a very busy man and you, you’ve got the entire Guard to run and I can’t even imagine how much that takes out of you, and how many people probably throw themselves at you so I — I think I’m just gonna go.”

A lot happens at once. You think you managed to get halfway to the door before he caught up to you, and he grabbed your wrist, but then you’re slumped against him? Did you two trip? You’re not sure, but he’s close enough that you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, and fuck he’s out of breath and suddenly you can see he’s freaked out and wow that’s hot. Less the last part, but it’s that kind of vulnerability that makes you feel like maybe he’s not fucking with you?

“Stay.” His voice is a growl again, and you shiver. He sees it, because of course he does, there’s nothing that happens in Coruscant that he misses. But you can’t think as his hand reaches out to your face. The fabric of his gloves makes you jump as he strokes your cheek with the back of two fingers. “I’ve got time. If you’re willing.”

“Oh I am.” Wow, you sure did shout that, huh? Screwing your eyes shut, you let out a frustrated sound and plant your hands on his cuirass and push . “Wait, hold on. This isn’t - okay, rewind. Please.” He moves, quickly, backing away from you with his hands held up. Running your hands down your face, you glance around the office, and without thinking you grab him by the wrist and drag him to the two chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.” He does, but he looks like he’d rather not until you sit across from him. Holding up your hands, you notice he stops leaning towards you. “Look. You’re all over the place. And you’re clearly very, very sleep deprived. You’ve kind of been a dick to me, a lot, and whatever happens - if anything at all - it depends on you at least trying not to be that way.”

“I can. I will . But I’m not - I wasn’t made for this.” He gestures between the two of you, and your heart breaks a little. Not for you - the validation that he was hitting on you is enough. For now. At least that’s what you tell yourself. “I was created to be a soldier, and now I’m nothing but the Chancellor’s glorified errand runner. I’ve got to watch out for the entire fucking planet, my men, a Republic that thinks of us as little more than goddamn meat shields .” He spits the last part out, standing up so abruptly his chair falls back with a loud clatter. You would have jumped if you didn’t know that none of this was aimed at you. “And all they can manage to give us for fighting this war for them, for keeping them safe from the hundreds of terrorist attacks and assassination attempts that happen every fucking hour is…is caf ?!” The Commander wheels around, pacing like a caged animal. “They’re my men. My brothers. They’re all I have, and I’m supposed to keep them safe. Trying to figure out where you fit in this mix - if at all - it's impossible.”

“I know.” Two words. They’re simple, but they’re true. You see something in his eyes when he turns to face you, something like…well, it’s like hope and fear and dread and elation all wrapped into one. It’s difficult to name, but even his carefully put-together mask can’t hide it when you say the first thing you can think of. “I see you, Commander.” The sigh you let out is tired as you stand up, picking up the chair and leaning against the back for support. “I see all of you - and I wish I could do more than just caf. But I’m just one person and I know that. But so are you.”

“I can’t afford to be just one man.” He sounds furious with himself, and you glance over your shoulder at him. Disgust drips from his words as he continues. “Don’t give me that look - you and I both know it’s true. I have to be in a dozen different places at any and all given times, any order given I have to be there, for the Republic.”

Slowly, you tilt your head at him. All of this has been really weird. He’s still up-and-down, and just when it seems like you’re making headway, he backpedals. Folding your arms, you wander over to his desk, leaning your hip against it with your back to the Coruscant skyscape. Your head falls back as you let out a noisy sigh, lips pursed in thought, before you roll your head to one side and stare at him. Commander Fox stares back at you. Hands flexing at his sides, balling into fists, clenching and unfurling. You see his throat bob with a hard swallow. And you can recognize anxiety in another person when you see it, but he doesn’t look away from you. It’s funny. It’s almost like now that you’ve seen one emotion, you can see the rest.

When you pat the space on the ledge of his desk next to you, he crosses the space in two strides. Just two. And you have to take a moment to reel in the fact that he’s just -

He’s fucking huge.

“How long do we have?”

“...for?” It’s just one word, but it’s heavy with implications. You make a face at him, swatting gently at the side of his arm with the back of your hand. He looks away and has the decency to look a little ashamed, running a hand down the length of his face. When he speaks it’s slightly muffled behind his hand. “Alright, if not for that, I guess…half an hour?”

“Wow. You thought you and I could…that we were gonna…but Thorn and Hound, can’t they --” You turn to squint at him incredulously. “Half an hour?”

“I’ve had less time.”

“I -- wow, okay.” That’s a lot to unpack. You push off the desk, fingers steepled in front of your chin. “Interesting. Anyway! I have a proposition for you.”

“Now who’s being hot and cold?”

“Okay, smartass, but this isn’t about that.” Not yet anyway.

“Then what?”

“So,” you turn to him, and you can’t help but beam at him. This idea - it’s just too good. “Y’know how I said there’s not enough room for my cart on my speeder?”

“...yeah.” He tilts his head slightly, staring you down and giving you the side-eye at the same time. “What’re you getting at?”

“Five minutes - that’s all the time it’ll take to get there. And I know a shortcut if we need to get back sooner. So that’ll give us - what - twenty-ish minutes? Twenty minutes. Outside the office.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, Commander --”

“No.”

“What, think I don’t know how to keep track of time?” Hands on your hips, you step into his space again. "I work in the service industry, honey, keeping track of time is as necessary as breathing in this industry."

“I doubt your ability to get us there and back in that amount of time, because you don’t have the clearances to drive that fast, or the training to fly like that in open-air traffic.” You lift an eyebrow at him, your lips curling slowly at the corners. His brow furrows in confusion, then exasperation as he rolls his eyes at you. “Maker, don’t tell me --”

“I might’ve borrowed my speeder from work and have the delivery settings on, yes. And before you ask, I know how to roll it back so none of this will get tracked back to us. And you don’t know me and my ability to drive a speeder, mister.”

“Ugh.” The frustration in the sound is at complete odds with how he looks at you, and you try not to let yourself think too much about it. But it’s hard not to as he chuckles, warm and fondly, shaking his head. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before?”

“I’m terrible at lying so I’m not gonna say I haven’t.”

“Most of you civs are terrible liars.” He sighs, picking up his helmet from his desk and putting it back on with practiced, confident motions. Huh . Who knew seeing him cover back up would make your stomach twist in knots? “Alright. Lead the way.”

Under the cover of his helmet, Fox watches your face break out into another one of those grins. He’s never seen this side of you, and that’s the only reason he’s taking such a huge risk. No. Really. It’s all he can think about as he follows you down to ground level, and the short ride that seems to last eons. If you smiled at him like that more, Fox was certain he could move mountains for you. And as tired as he was, he was grateful the helmet kept his face hidden.

If he’d gone without, you’d see just how much seeing you this happy was affecting him. And he'd never be able to go back from that point.

----

Time isn’t on your side, and later, you’ll regret that. Much, much later. Because not a lot of talking will be going on. But for whatever reason, you feel like you’re both on even footing.

…even footing standing on top of the neighboring skyscraper’s roof.

“How the hell did you get up here the first time?!” Fox sounds a little impressed. But mostly pissed. You don’t take your helmet off, knowing the air is thinner and your filters are the only things keeping you from passing out. A lesson you’d learned and nearly died for the first time.

That is not a part of this story you’ll be telling the Commander, of course. Not yet at least.

“Before the war,” you shout to be heard above the howling winds, “someone was trying to steal the credit chits for deliveries. I lost them up here.” You keep the speeder on - the familiar rumble just barely heard, but keeping the engine on is necessary. The winds would knock it clean off. Stepping off carefully, you stretch out. Having him pressed in tight against your back was something, but damn if you hadn’t wound yourself up tight. Turning, you jerk your head towards one of the utility exits. It's one you've been to more than a few times - the door doesn't close right so there's no actual protection from the wind or air quality, but it'll give you both some privacy. “C’mon - bit more sheltered over here.”

The Commander follows you, slowly. It’s a bit funny watching him shuffle the first few steps, arms outstretched like that’ll keep him from falling. Does he not know there are automatic gravity fields on these roofs? You decide that’s something you’d rather tell him later. It can wait. But this can’t. You hold the door open for him and lurch back when it slams shut from the force of the wind, both of you watching it for a moment as it slaps against the frame. How the hell this door hasn't been upgraded to something automatic is beyond you, but it speaks to the level of actual consideration architects gave utility workers.

Eventually the two of you look at each other, waiting. Then you lean against the nearest wall and sink down.

You see his head moving as he sinks down next to you, but you can’t hear him. It's a little more muffled, but you can both only make out half-sentences and words. A glance at your HUD tells you it might be the signal, but you don't feel like it would be smart to take your helmet off. After a few precious seconds of trying to hear each other, his head moves in a way that tells you he’s probably groaning again. He taps at one vanbrace, then pulls something out of his belt’s many pockets. The Commander holds out a microchip to you, no bigger than your pinky fingernail, and you manage to hold onto it as his hands reach out to feel around the underside of your helmet. A few more seconds pass as his fingers search and prod, until he finds something just under your jaw. You feel something click, and you’re quick to slide the chip into the slot.

“-- hear me?” His voice echoes around your ears, inside the helmet. You flinch, and you hear him chuckle. You can hear him breathing, too. “Our buckets are mass produced - malfunctions are bound to happen. The commlink channels don’t go often, but we usually carry extra links just in case.” It’s jarring down to your shoulders when he thunks his knuckles against your helmet, twice. “Lucky for us, yours is pretty versatile.”

“Neat,” you say, glancing nervously at the timer readout in your HUD. “Cheap store bought helmet has many uses. Anyway. So - I didn’t bring you up here just to uh, chat. I think.”

“You think?”

“I mean - urgh. Fox.” You turn so you’re facing him, kneeling next to him. One hand reaches out, gripping the hard edges of his knee-guard. “We don’t have to talk, if you want.” Your throat nearly closes up at that last word. Fuck, you’re so nervous. And you can feel the tension in his leg under your hand, but knowing he’s wound up doesn’t exactly put you at ease. “There’s not a lot of time, I know. But we have some time - and no, there aren’t any cameras up here. So no one will see us. It’s just us. So.” You slide your hand just slightly, so you can drag your fingertips against the fabric of his blacks in the gaps between his armor. “Do whatever you want. I’m more than willing.”

For a moment - much too long, in your opinion - he’s silent. You can’t hear him breathing. Not until he speaks again, a soft pop of feedback and then his voice is flooding the inside of your helmet again. 

“Get up here.” He takes your hand off of his knee, placing it on his shoulder instead. Broad hands bracket your hips, guiding you so you’re straddling him. You almost sit down but he squeezes, keeping you hovering for a moment while he reaches down, under you and between his legs. When he pushes you down, it’s fabric on fabric, not armor on fabric. And it’s not a lot, but it is. Because it’s fucking freezing even with your flight jacket and trousers on, but you can feel the heat of him.

You both groan, clinging to each other, as recognition floods you both. That this is real, and it’s happening, and it’s not just some one-sided desire for the other person. The two of you barely know each other. But it feels safer up here, under the cover of darkness and the fact that no one else ever comes here. Safer to address those unexplored feelings and just…

Let go.

When your head falls forward, it clips the side of his helmet. Fox guides you with a hand on the back of your neck, but even so it’s awkward at first. His armor still digs into you, his grip is vicelike and you can feel your skin bruising already, but eventually it all clicks into place. You’re soaked through, and that does nothing to help the fact that grinding on him fully clothed hasn’t been doing anything. Right up until he angles his hips just right, and his shaft grinds against your cunt.

“Fucking Maker.” He practically spits the words out, and you hear the words turn to a groan as you bare down on him, circling your hips just-so. “Fu-uhhhck, right there. Right fuckin’ there mesh’la . Gods I can feel how wet you are.” 

You whimper for him, and his fingers slide from your hips to grab a handful of your ass and squeeze. Hard. You let out a surprised sound as his other hand grabs the other side, and you know there will be some really interesting bruises there tomorrow. Arms sliding up from where you’d been clinging to his shoulders, you wrap them tight around the back of his neck, letting him guide you.

It’s not enough and too much at the same time. You both rut against each other, gasping and moaning into your helmets, in a channel only the two of you can hear. It somehow makes things that much more intense, at least for you. Hearing every sound, every gasped breath, every hissed out oath and half-word. Knowing you had this affect on him, and knowing he wanted you to feel just as good. It made you dizzy, and with every deliberate drag of his cock against you you could feel pressure building.

Slowly.

It seemed like that was the same conclusion Fox had just come to, because in the next half-second he was moving. Turning you both so you were flat on your back, his body still slotted between your thighs, desperately trying to open up the front of his blacks. You got the idea and immediately hooked your fingers into the waistline of your trousers, pushing them down, reaching for his. The two of you fumbled and struggled until both of you had the most important parts bare, though you were the one less covered with your pants pulled down past your knees.

“Shit it’s fucking - freezing up here.” 

His voice is tight, and cracks near the end when he brushes the head of his cock against your pussy. It’s still awkward, and you’re about to suggest he let you turn around when his fingers slide through the arousal that’s dripping from you. You’re about to protest when he moves his hand away, but quickly replaces it by covering your cunt with his other hand. And you’re not sure when he took his gloves off, but the sensation of his skin on yours is a welcome one. Calloused fingertips tease at your entrance and you push your hips up, your movements and his blending seamlessly so two of his fingers slide into you at the perfect angle.

“Fuck, Fox,” you whine, your hands immediately reaching out to clutch at him. He struggles to pry your dominant hand off of him, bringing it to close around his shaft. It’s slick somehow, and realization dawns on you. Your laugh is breathless as you start working your hand up and down his cock. “What, no lube?”

“Didn’t - nnh - didn’t want to presume anything, mesh’la.” 

After he  grits out every word he begins to fuck you with his fingers, moving with the kind of precise motions that tells you he’s done this before. Enough times to open you up for him and get you worked up quickly enough that you’re already close. But how could you not be? When you factor in his voice and how easily he pushes all of your buttons, and the fact that it’s been a long time. Plus the fact that all you can hear is him all while not being able to see his face is doing things for you. You can see him of course. But with the speakers of your helmet only picking up his voice, it’s practically drowned out everything else.

Also, he’s huge , too. Turns out that just seems to be a running theme for Fox. You can’t wrap your fingers all the way around him. You think about having all of that inside you and whine in the back of your throat as you stroke him, from base to tip. He’s already leaking, and you wish you didn’t have your helmet on. When you rub the pad of your thumb around the head, his breathing stutters as he lets a punched out moan. So you do it again. And again. Eventually you grab him with your free hand and pump his shaft, using the hitches in his breath and the way his hips twitch to guide your motions.

It isn’t perfect. And it isn’t what either of you wanted - okay, so it is. But all you can think about is him fucking you. And even if he’s working you quickly towards your climax and you’re doing your best to do the same for him, it’s not quite there .

“I wish we had m-more time,” you gasp out. He tilts his helmet at you slightly, an invitation to elaborate as he focuses on wringing every ounce of pleasure out of you. You laugh breathlessly again, and the sound twists with the almost cruel twist of his fingers as he works a third finger into you. As you struggle to put your thoughts to words, he seems content to distract you: sliding in and out, quirking his fingers at your inner walls as he pulls every noise out of you.

“For?” His voice is gruff, the quiet grunts and hitches of breath the only hint that the way you’re working him up is having an affect on him. “C’mon, mesh’la . Tell me.”

“Want you to fuck me.” His cock twitches in your hand, and you laugh again. This time low and in the back of your throat, and that seems to do things for Fox. His hips surge forward, rocking into your hands, and you keep a steady grip on him as you let him use you. “I uh - mi-might’ve thought about you - fuck , fucking me on that elevator. All day. Mmh, a lot.”

“Fuck.” He shoves his fingers in until his knuckles are digging into you, and you can feel the tremor in his arm. All the while his hips move, thrusting into you, and you can hear him panting in his helmet. “Fuck, you - nnh, don’t know how badly I wanted to. Wanted to get down on my knees and - “ His hand starts moving again, but instead of the in and out motions, it’s up and down. The warm coil of pleasure in your gut jumps, burning you from the inside out as the pressure starts to become unbearable. And he’s been talking the whole time, but you only manage to catch some of it when your head catches up to your body. “ - taste you, make you scream for me, see h-how much of me you could handle - “

“All of it,” You don’t know how you manage to get the words out as your hips uselessly try to rock into the way he’s absolutely destroying you. In the best way. “Give me all of it Commander.”

So - turns out, the whole growling quality of his voice thing. You'd already decided you found that very attractive. And then that’s all you can hear, Fox growling, and you can feel it when his whole body bears down on you even through his cuirass. His hand is relentless between your legs, and you’re so close, the sounds he’s making and the stretch of his fingers filling you up, but you’re not quite there.

“Come for me.” At some point his helmet got tucked into the crook of your neck - as best as he can, anyway, with your helmet and all of your clothes still mostly on and his hips messily thrusting into your hands still. But gods does it all feel so good, especially knowing this man is out of his mind for you. “C’mon - come for me, haven’t got much ti-ime left baby, come for me - come for me - “

The way he’s pleading for you is what does it. That and when he twists his hand just so, and he reaches his thumb up to rub it against your clit. Spots of black flood your vision as your body tenses up, and you clench around him as the pleasure pushes all other senses out. All you can feel is him, all you can hear are the rough, short grunts he lets out as he wrings every last ounce of your climax out of you, his body caging you in. The reality of it makes this all the more jarring, knowing that this is Fox, the Commander of the Coruscant Guard, the man you've been bringing caf to for months. Now reduced to a shuddering, incoherent mess as he works you through one of the best orgasms of your entire life.

It lasts for a while. Which is honestly alright with you.

Though it makes the mess in your hands a little bit confusing.

“When did you --?”

“When you called me ‘Commander.’” You both grunt when he sits up, one elbow braced on the floor above your head. Slowly, he pulls his hand from you, and you whine at the loss of him. Even if he’s still there. It’s still so good though, even if it’s freezing, even if your helmets are still on. Made even better when he looks at his hand, splaying his fingers open so a thin sheen of your arousal spreads between them. He swears in a language you don’t know - it’s similar to when he called you ‘mesh’la.’ “Fucks sake, how the hell am I gonna - “

“Here.” You rip your helmet off. It’s not a smart idea - your ears pop and you can immediately feel the thinner air quality, plus all the smog making your head spin. But the way he goes completely still as you grab him by the wrist and wrap your mouth around his fingers, one by one, makes it all worth it. And there’s also the mess on your hands from him, which you have to clean up. So you get to taste him anyway. A lot of him. Halfway through licking the bittersweet mess he left you with, you hum. “Damn, been a while, Fox?”

He doesn’t answer you. Instead he rips his helmet off too, and he’s on you again, his mouth covering yours. But you have a moment, just a moment, where you see how wrecked he looks. And gods does he really wreck you as he kisses you. He’s tasting you, and himself, thoroughly . It’s rough at first. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, moaning into you, stealing the breath from your lungs. But that roughness is sort of something you’ve come to associate with him. Even when your teeth knock and his stubble scratches, or when he bites at your lip a little too hard, it’s good. It’s so good. Getting to be privy to this side of him, even if you couldn’t see his face at first. Knowing he’s just as affected by you is more than you could have ever imagined.

Eventually, though, all good things must come to an end. You both jump when an alarm starts going off in both your helmets. Then you’re both scrambling to get your clothes on, gasping for air after you shove your helmets back on to breathe in clean, filtered air once you both tumbled out of the utility exit. You’re not sure where he put his codpiece or his gloves, but by the time he mounts the speeder behind you it’s like nothing has happened. It’s a little jarring. But you don’t have much time to dwell on it as you rev the engine and take off, using the shortcut just like you’d said.

The shortcut which ends with the bike hovering just outside the window to his office.

“This is your shortcut?!” You wince - the two of you are still on the same channel, but he’s yelling like you’re still both unable to hear each other over the wind. Fox lets out a frustrated sound that almost makes you shiver again, but it’s the cold from when he opens one of the windows with a control on his vanbrace. Paper and datapads go flying, and you wince. He sighs, clearly exasperated, and gives you a curt warning to ‘keep her steady.’

It’s terrifying to see him leap over the open air with such confidence, but one second he’s on the bike behind you, then he lands easily in his office. Well, mostly easily. He stumbles a bit. You can’t help but feel a small thrill of pride, wondering if you’ve reduced him to such a state. Shaking that thought off, you watch as the window starts to close, then wave your hand frantically at him.

“Don’t you want this back?” You tap at the underside of your helmet when he tilts his in confusion. A second passes and he shakes his head.

“Keep it.” He pauses. “Just - keep it between us.”

“Sure,” you say, grinning behind your helmet as you turn the bike towards the sector you live in. “It’ll be our little secret, Commander. See ya next week.”

“Yeah,” he says. And when you’re out of range, well out of range, is when he finally turns away from the window. Back in his office again, with his men, his brothers, in familiar territory. With a hollow pit of dread slowly opening up inside him, with fear and anger and frustration slowly crawling out of it. Fists clenched tightly at his sides, the Commander stalks to the door.

“Next week.”

[benevolentbirdgal]

Purim: a Jewish holiday and wild ride from start to finish

So let me tell you about the absolute soap opera that is the Jewish holiday of Purim. The scene is set in ancient (appx. 4th century B.C.E.) Persia during the first Jewish Diaspora, in the city of Shushan (typically identified in secular sources as Susa, a now-abandoned ancient city in what is now Iran). I’m telling you, as a work of literature (even beyond theological implications for Jewish people), this book has everything: love, drama, royalty, intrigue, ego, plots, irony, mystery, and a strong female lead. 

[some non-slur swearing below]

Ahasuerus, party-loving king of Persia executed or exiled (translations argue) his wife Vashti, and had to find a new queen. Why did he do this, you ask? Well, it really starts with an 180-day party across his kingdom for all his subjects to celebrate the third year of his reign. After that absolute rager, party-bro KA has another one immediately after for a week, this time just for the capital city of Shushan. Vashti was having a woman’s party in her quarters, presumably living her best life, when party-bro sends his top seven yes-men to deliver a message to Vashti. This sleaze-ball wants her to appear at his party in front of everyone, wearing her crown, with the clear implication being only her crown. Vashti more or less tells him to pound sand (I mean, not the literal translation, but that’s the sentiment). 

KA’s advisors convince him that this is not only an offense against the king but also against all the men in the country (ah, the joys of ancient patriarchy and toxic af masculinity). KA writes a degree that women must respect their husbands so he has an official reason to get rid of Vashti. Vashti is soon thereafter out of the picture and the king is short a queen. Whether she was a Wise Lady With A Point Who Got Screwed Over or a Vicious Jew-Hating Adulteress Who Had It Coming has been a matter of furious debate for over two millennia (the Babylonian Talmud and the Jerusalem Talmud vociferously disagree on her). In any case, KA regrets it pretty quick and wants a new queen. 

At the behest of his advisors (you know, since their last advice worked out soooooo well), KA had a big contest/forcible gathering of young women from around his kingdom and a Jewish woman, Hadassah, was the winner.  Hadassah was an orphan raised by her cousin Mordechai in the city of Shushan. Hadassah is more commonly known as Esther, because she changed her name to hide her identity as a Jew (at the behest of Mordechai). In any case, KA decided he liked Esther best and she became queen (it’s specifically mentioned both that he loved her most and that the palace staff liked her because she was nice to them-it’s unclear how much of an influence the latter was). 

Concurrently, a wicked man named Haman was the top advisor to the king and the king would basically rubber-stamp whatever Haman wanted. Haman was a raging Jew-hater-this will be relevant later. 

Some time into Esther’s reign as queen, Mordechai, who has taken to hanging around the gates of the palace to keep in touch with Esther, overhears a plot by two guards, Bigthan and Teresh, to kill the king. Mordechai alerts his cousin, and she tells the king. It’s recorded in the book of deeds and life keeps moving. 

Some time later, Haman decides (after a promotion to head lackey) that he wants all to bow to him as he passes. Mordechai refused to bow to Haman every single day (citing that as a Jew he bowed to no man), and that did not sit well with Haman. So despite being prime minister and presumably having more important things to do, “genocide the Jews” made it to the top of to-do list. He didn’t like them before, and Mordechai refusing to treat him like a special snowflake was something he took really, really personally (totally can’t think of any modern politicians like that, nope). He told KA, who frankly doesn’t seem to ask enough questions, that there was a people disrespecting the king and his laws throughout the land, and could he pretty-please exterminate them. As a bonus, Haman would “donate” 10,000 silver kikar to the royal treasury (modern conversion vary, but all agree this an absurd amount on money). 

KA handed him the royal seal to do so. Haman was feeling lucky I guess so he decided the best course of action was to draw lots to pick the day for the massacre. [Purim is lots in Hebrew, so that’s where the name of the holiday came from]. The message went out to all the provinces that on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, that they citizens and leaders should murder all of the Jews, young and old, man, woman, and child, rich and poor and take their possessions as spoils. 

As this wasn’t exactly a state secret, the Jews knew and were quite distressed. The planned slaughter was like a year out, but what the actual fuck were they supposed to do? If you lived in Persia at that point that, the empire was functionally your entire world, unless you were fabulously/ridiculously wealthy and well-connected. Having several months notice the other locals and your rules were going to slaughter you and take your stuff isn’t particularly useful when there’s really nowhere to go. 

In Shushan, Mordechai (who, although not explicitly in text, is in oral/Talmudic tradition a leader of the Jewish community) goes into mourning. He dresses in sackcloth and ashes, he weeps, and he fasts at the gates of the palace, as Jews throughout shushan and the kingdom are doing. Esther hears of her cousin’s mourning behavior and tries to send along nice clothes through a messenger, which he refuses. It is then that she learns of the decree. Mordechai (through the messenger) implores her to go ask the king if the Jews not getting murdered could be a thing. Esther explains that she could be killed for approaching the king unsummoned. Mordechai stresses the severity of the situation. Esther agrees to ask the king and tells Mordechai to have the Shushan Jewish community fast day and night (as opposed to just day as prior) for three days, and she and her handmaidens will fast too (no word on what the handmaidens thought of this).

On the third day, Esther bravely approached the king, asked him if she could request something. He said anything, up to half his kingdom (which implies to me that homedude, for all his flaws, was actually into her). Esther invited him to a party, where he and Haman would be the only guests. At the party she asks if she can another request. KA is open to it and she invites him to another party the next night. Party-bro king is obviously down and Haman is tickled to death at this second invitation. 

He goes home to brag to his wife, Zeresh, about the invite and also to bitch about how angsty he is Mordechai is still alive (this angst reignited by passing him on the way home). Zeresh suggests he have fifty-foot gallows built to make Mordechai an example on, with the king’s permission, ASAP. Haman orders the building of the gallows, feeling secure in the knowledge that his bestie the king will execute Mordechai on them. 

Back at the castle KA can’t sleep. He demands a bedtime story from the his records, because those will presumably put him to sleep. The story that gets read, ~coincidentally~, is of Mordechai saving KA’s life. Haman had sidled on up to the castle to speak to the king about killing Mordechai, and the king called him in. KA asks Haman, if he were to honor someone, what should he do? Haman is thinking “this is obvi about me” and tells the king that the honoree should be donned in royal clothing, and ride through the streets on a fancy horse with people someone shouting how great he is. KA is like great, love it, perf, go do that for Mordechai. Haman is not a happy camper but does the thing. After that, he goes home and tells Zeresh about it, who warns him that this is a very bad sign. 

Finally, that night is the night of Esther’s second soiree. Haman and KA attend. The latter offers to Esther anything she wants, up to half of his kingdom. Esther asks that her life, and the life of her people be spared. KA is like “whomst” and Esther revealed it was Haman. At this point Ahasuerus.exe stops working and he takes a walk to the gardens. He comes back to see Haman begging Esther for his life, and KA thinks Haman is assaulting her. Haman was seized by nearby guards.

One of the chamberlains is then like, hey, KA, coincidentally there’s these super high gallows Haman just had built. Why not take care of the problem that way? (The fact that the random nearby chamberlain was like yup, that dude, hang ‘em in the morning, probably says a lot about how Haman treated most people around him, even more than forcing all to bow to him). KA orders it be done. 

Not that Haman was around to be sad about it, but what happened next would have massively pissed him off, as his old job then went to Mordechai. Esther then implored of the king that the degree to allow the massacre of the Jews be reversed. The king couldn’t Cntrl+Z the order to murder-all-the-Jews, but he could issue an order that they could fight back. The proclamation was sent throughout the land, and the Jews were able to prepare. Since the royal decree had been amended, the governments (princes, governors, satraps) largely reformulated their plans accordingly, but plenty of Jew-haters still wanted to use the opportunity. The ability to self-defend meant that the communities weren’t massacred. In most of the kingdom, the Jews were now safe. Outside of Shushan, the fourteenth of Adar became a feast day. 

Shushan was still not safe though. Antisemites were still out and mad (and apparently had not learned from the previous day), so Esther asked the Jews of Shushan to be allowed to defend themselves once more. Her wish was granted, and the Shushan Jews were able to defend themselves once more (so Purim is celebrated a day later in walled cities). 

The story ends with the decision to write it down, and although there some debate on authorship, it is traditionally attributed to Esther herself cowriting with Mordechai. 

Nowhere in the book is God mentioned. Nowhere is there divine intervention (at least not explicitly). Just Jews sticking up for themselves, being brave in the face of mortal peril, and a metric fucktown of chutzpah. 

[googledocsdyke]

Do you have any thoughts/recommended texts for Cas analysis? I genuinely love the dean gender studies and I just wanna know what people might apply to Cas.

yes absolutely!! while dean studies is my first love i also deeply love cas analysis (casnalysis?) and wanna strive to do more of it. here’s some stuff off the top of my head:

1. gender, sexuality, heavenly embodiment

this is much more theological and less psychological than dean’s whole Deal because there’s so much fascinating stuff around how the angels in general experience express and conceptualise gender (@autisticandroids has a good post about angel gender & lily sunder has some regrets) but for cas in particular there’s this fascinating kind of collective fandom agreement (which i DO also agree with) that cas’ own gender kind of is gay man, that he actively chose gay manhood, but also that he’s kind of..... lacking the Insane Genderishness that dean exhibits at all times, even though he actively chose to engage in male gendering and became so comfortable housed Within Jimmy that he, as some post i saw the other day that i can’t find anymore said, “became his own body” when jimmy died. 

like on the one hand there’s an almost-canonical transness to the whole process but it also never feels fully written-into because 1) the supernatural writers for all their insanity are sometimes very boring and *most* of the time only feel interested in narratively expressing angels As Their Vessels anyways and just like leaving convenient spaces around these questions (boldest thing they ever did was hot girl cas which i WISH i had the range to unpack) 2) there’s a vague inevitabilist shrug to the whole thing since they obviously weren’t gonna recast misha collins (though they HAVE tried to get rid of him) and 3) something amorphous about cas’ entire..... personhood? makes him Empty Of Gender as a contrast to dean’s Full Of Gender (i believe it was @deanwinchestergender who said this) and like is it just the juxtaposition to dean/jensen’s whole insane Deal? or something else? 

like he actively chooses the terms of his own embodiment and yet narratively it feels like a shrug. and we’re all like “well obviously even though he’s a celestial being he was always a gay man” and like WHY. i love it idk idk much to think about! and yeah just in general the theological questions of possession and cas genuinely Becoming a man as he iterates himself consciously towards humanity it almost feels like. by doing the most boring things possible with his gender they made it interesting? idk if that makes sense.

2. discipline, free will, metanarratives

cas is like a tool (“i am not a hammer, as you say”) held in constant discipline and surveillance by the system that enmeshes him and it’s really, really fascinating to watch the way the angels hold each other to conformity. especially pre-god they kind of produce each other as foucauldian disciplinary subjects (which i posted about here) in perpetual visibility through angel radio, generating their own and each other’s conformity rather than being directly ruled through like a single centralised source of power. only the spectre of a god. and obviously cas’ whole thing is that he has ALWAYS disobeyed and the narrative affords him this psychological interiority never given to the foucauldian subject, an internal will and desire for freedom in a way that fits more with the liberal subject (super roughly and not with the same pro-capitalist implications but he has this internal drive for self-liberation. 

and that’s also where the metanarrative comes in ofc! i think it was @dykecas who said that cas is a real person written by people who hate him, and there’s this crack in the narrative (mirroring the crack in his chassis) where cas gets in, over and over, despite all the order imposed by the show’s authorfathergod. like we’ve all seen the analysis about how it was Never supposed to be this way they DID try to fire misha collins in 2012 and yet this gay man literally cannot be stopped! i think actually his appearance in scoobynatural is a neat little distillation of this — he drops into this animated world originally with a singular purpose (Save Sam And Dean) the same way he dropped into lazarus rising with a single 3-episode arc (Save Dean). huge hammer behaviour. his “utility” diminishes within the narrative (he finds that he can’t fly in the scooby doo universe) and so he is no longer a tool/means to an end that salvation moves Through. and in the process (and huge creds to @lesbianyuugi for this) he does something ENTIRELY unrelated to his original cas-as-tool aim, and learns, like, the meaning of laughter from shaggy and scooby. WHICH brings me onto the third point

3. love, queer kinship, family-making

HE’S GAY AND HE’S A DAD! i feel like a lot of tumblr throws around the term “found family” in a very flat and tropey way (which is fine it’s cute and fun no matter what!) but like . GOD there’s so much specific stuff going on here. like the way that cas (unintentionally) obliterates the midwestern white christian nuclear family (made incarnate in the novaks) which like could be uniformly portrayed as an act of deep malice and villainy but instead grows to serve as a surrogate (if imperfect/complex, but DEEPLY loving) father figure for the gay daughter who has now escaped that nuclear family/seen it destroyed depending on how you read it? like he remasters the entire concept of fatherhood and it’s a very interesting (if DEEPLY) unintentional subversion of the homewrecking non-nuclear gay trope. cas is so good because his character arc doesn’t say “look, gay people can be normal and have perfect settled families just like you” it says “gay people DON’T have normal settled families actually and they are full of love anyways! or Because of the abnormalcy itself!) 

to cite ziz lesbianyuugi again he DOES queer fatherhood in his parenting of jack particularly because it really is one of the ONLY parent-child relationships in the show that breaks the incessant cycle of abuse and control and cold indifference perpetuated by the authorfathergod (a cycle reified in 15x20 lol). like god’s treatment of cas and his siblings mirrors john’s treatment of sam and dean (particularly dean) mirrors victor’s treatment of krissy and her crew mirrors dean’s later treatment of jack. there is a CONSTANT reiteration of the story of authorfathergod (often a father tightly entwined in biological kinship) treating a child as a mechanism or a tool or a means to an end. and cas looks at ALL that he has suffered and all that he is ever known and chooses constantly to reject it with every piece of love he expresses for his child. and not to sound like the kind of academic people make fun of on twitter but there is an INHERENT queerness to that. gay love will pierce through [the veil of death/the thick silence of abuse/the mechanism of godly control/hegemonic american masculinity] and save the day

anyways here are some very haphazard recs on everything above for further reading:

angels in america (tony kushner)

histrionics of the pulpit: trans tonalities of religious enthusiasm

the public universal friend: religious enthusiasm in revolutionary america

discipline and punish (michel foucault)

friendship as a way of life (michel foucault)

the genesis of blame (recommended by @pietacastiel who has GREAT theology content in general

all about love (bell hooks)

the chapter “when hated characters talk back” in anti-fandom: dislike and hate in the digital age (is actually explicitly about cas)

also cannot recommend enough following the ppl i tagged above!! most of the unlinked stuff is available through http://libgen.li/ and bookshop is a good alternative to amazon if ur american and want physical copies

[kedreeva]

hi kedreeva!! you do so much research on the types of foods, etc you feed your animals, but I'm really unsure on where to start. I'm a young adult and I'm thinking about getting my own cat so I would like to find a reliable source of food for them, but I don't really know how to start that research. do you have any tips on where to get free articles, or how you read papers? sorry if this is a really broad question

Generally when I want information, I start searching by "[general keywords] science" and looking for research papers done on the subject. Date matters! Researchgate turns up a lot of nice stuff. Often times I have to go into the sources that are cited and look those up to get the info I want.

I don't always read the really technical stuff first; if the abstract looks promising, I will skip down to the discussion. That's the area where they are likely to admit where they messed up, and if their findings are contradicted by other research. I look to see what claim they are making, and then go back up into the method/results and see if what they have concluded from what they did is reasonable. I do this BECAUSE one time in high school I was reading an article in a magazine at the library about how "women who birth children are less likely to [experience some bad thing]" (I think some kind of cancer) but in looking at the study, what they ACTUALLY found was not that birthing children made women less susceptible to the bad thing, but that not having as many periods did. Something which could potentially be accomplished by something like oh, idk, taking a birth control method that allowed you to skip 9+ months of periods, without wrecking your body by forcing it to produce a whole human and then altering your life forever if you keep the result. And I've found this type of thing in several papers, particularly ones where the discussion admits "our findings didn't match so-and-so's study."

SO LIKE. The "conclusion" papers draws don't always.... feel like they match what the methods and results say, and reputable science should be repeatable. If 3 studies find one thing and 1 finds another, there's a good chance the 1 fucked up somehow.

For you, though, I would look into a vet nearby first. You can ask for information on feed, and you can ask why X is better than Y food. Any vet that is worthwhile will be able to tell you not just which food is worth feeding, but why. At the very least, they can advise you which ones NOT to feed. Unlike fowl, there's a LOT of knowledge about feline nutrition out there, and vets are often up to date on it.

You can also look into finding a nutritionist! I know that some feed producers claim they employ nutritionists, but in my opinion that's not really... sound. It's their employer telling them to recommend their product, their employer who is paying them. Hopefully a random nutritionist or a local vet is not going to be paid to endorse a certain brand (though obviously some DO, so that muddies the water some, and there's no helping that, which is why you try to check a bunch of sources instead of just one).

Anyway, it's mostly a matter of taking as broad of a look as you can to start with, and then narrowing down to specifics. Join communities if you can find them and watch what people are saying, follow any leads you think might take you someplace useful. Anyone that tells you to do something, but that can't tell you WHY... probably doesn't know as much as you want them to know and the advice they give can be taken with a grain of salt while you look for better info.

Best of luck! Give yourself as much time as you need before you take the leap, and I wish you and your future feline much joy!

[bigskydreaming]

If Dick and Bruce are always both at fault for their conflicts then why does it always go “Dick does something/wants to do something and Bruce doesn’t like it or tells him he’s wrong.” With the other times being “Bruce does something that affects Dick’s life without considering it’s effect on Dick and Dick’s not really upset at what Bruce did he’s literally just upset about the lack of consideration for how Dick would be affected.”

Like how does that work. Dick’s stubbornness is so often cited as being what causes conflicts between them but like....he’s only stubborn when it comes to Bruce attempting to make choices for him or suddenly changing his mind about not being okay with stuff he’s previously enabled Dick in and expecting Dick to just be fine with that. With his temper cited as being what puts him equally at fault with Bruce the other times but again when he’s literally just upset at Bruce’s lack of visible consideration for how Dick is affected by various Big Decisions that Bruce makes....how does that track?

The frustration I and many others have about the vaguely referenced but rarely delved into implications or outright statements that Dick and Bruce fight so often because they’re both equally stubborn and hot headed and refusing to apologize....is that Bruce is the catalyst for almost all these conflicts. It’s his choices that prompt them. He decides things and Dick is affected in various ways by those decisions and Dick is almost always just saying hey I’m here, I matter, but it doesn’t feel that way when you keep acting like it’s hard to remember I exist and my feelings are any kind of priority to you.

That’s not equal. That’s not an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. That’s a big fish making big moves and the smaller fish he took in and who is emotionally attached to him for life frantically trying to remind him he’s along for the ride and getting dragged around by the slipstream the bigger one makes without any seeming awareness of his greater ability to affect the smaller one’s life, the very course and direction of it.

And that’s not because Dick’s lesser than Bruce but it is because what gets obscured by the sometimes vague ways their dynamic is hand waved as being something other than father and son but not actually defined....no matter how you slice it, Dick was his dependent. Literally. Bruce took responsibility for Dick as a child and Dick was dependent on him until he was old enough to be independent.

And that matters, even into Dick’s adulthood because their dynamic, no matter what it grew into, began from these roots and you can’t just uproot who they are twenty years later from the ground it was planted in and act like that has no bearing anymore. It doesn’t work that way.

Like, the thing about Bruce forgetting to prioritize Dick and how he’ll be affected by things I think has a lot to do with Bruce second guessing himself and wondering if he’s had a net positive effect on Dick’s life. And he can think back to when he made that choice to take Dick in and kinda picture or wonder might have happened if he hadn’t made that choice.

And by extension, he can see a life without Dick in it, even if he’s justifying it to himself as being better for Dick that way...but the point is he can see it because he did live it, even if briefly. He might have been young when he took in Dick but he was still an adult, still grown, still established in who he was and what he intended to do with his life.

But the problem lies in the fact that while Bruce might try to convince himself that Dick would have been better off without him, and by extension he thinks about a life without him....he’s picturing himself before taking him in. Still adult, still Brucie, still Batman. Still similar ENOUGH that he can put himself in this train of thought that like....if he’d just made a different choice then, Dick would be better off, and then from there he can kinda...make decisions from the POV of the self he was when Dick wasn’t in his life, he can see what that looks like, what he looks like, and he makes decisions that focus just on him and his own actions and he’s still thinking how Dick is better off that way. When he makes decisions without acknowledging how they’ll affect Dick, he’s not doing it to be thoughtless, he’s convinced himself to separate himself from Dick in his mind....and defaulting to the template of himself he has from when Dick really WASNT in his life yet.

And the thing is....Dick can’t do that. So when Bruce makes choices and actions that look and seem like he’s not acknowledging that Dick’s life is intrinsically connected to Bruce’s and everything Bruce does has SOME impact on him because he’s been the guiding force in Dick’s life since he was eight....when Bruce acts like he’s making choices as if in a world where he never took Dick in even if he thinks he’s better off that way....

There’s nothing for Dick to picture, to imagine that world in the way Bruce is. To imagine himself. Because take away Bruce’s impact on Dick’s life, and from Bruce’s POV you just see the infinite potential of what Dick could have been, but that’s because like....that’s Dick at age eight. He’s barely started becoming who he’ll be as an adult. Eight year olds by their very natures are more varied and full of potential than adults because there’s so much less set in stone by then, they have yet to establish themselves as THEM.

But take away Bruce’s impact on Dick’s life for whatever reason, and from Dick’s POV it looks vastly different. Because the only thing he can picture concretely then...is himself at age eight. When he was at his most lost and confused. When he WASNT able to be by himself yet because who he was just wasn’t even all there yet. It was still actively in formation. In a state of new growth, early stages of creation. When he still very much needed an adult presence with more experience, confidence and knowledge to help shape and guide him through the turbulent process of growing to adulthood and finding himself along the way.

Bruce imagines removing himself from the equation of Dick’s life and seeing the still unrealized potential of that eight year old and everything he might be. Dick is forced to imagine himself after Bruce’s removal from the equation of his life, simply because Bruce so often ACTS like he’s doing just that....and Dick suddenly has NO IDEA what he looks like.

Because he’s not fixated on the before image of himself that Bruce has when he thinks of Dick before Bruce took him in. He’s fixated on his life in the here and now...and when he’s catapulted into imaginings of life without Bruce because Bruce is acting like he exists entirely separate from Bruce and his decisions....he’s back to who he was before Bruce, that scared and confused little kid....and with no way to even begin to picture who he would have grown up to be in a life without Bruce.

Same imagined scenario. But two entirely different perspectives with wildly different appeal. As in one holds no appeal at all...because Dick has never really actually expressed that he wishes Bruce hadn’t taken him in. That HE thinks he would have been better off that way. It’s like asking him to picture himself as a total stranger with no way to begin imagining what he became instead of who he is now....and Dick LIKES who he is now. He has his issues but he LIKES being Nightwing, helping people, all the family and friends he would never have met in a world without Bruce.

It’s just....for all that Bruce says that Dick as an adult has become his equal, this is still a father and son and you can’t keep coming up in both canon and fanfics with events and stories where it’s like the father is operating from a place of ‘my son would be better off without me’ and act like the conflict that ensues is one of equal dynamic....because the conflict, the at odds perspectives, are directly born from the father and son dynamic.

It’s the father questioning his place in his son’s life, after being the one who volunteered for that position and thus earned the eternal gratitude of the son who had desperately needed that adult to depend on at the time he’d stepped into fill it...and the son now wondering well who the fuck even am I without that then, where does that leave me?

Bruce is picturing ANYONE being better for Dick at the times when he second guesses his impact on Dick’s life. But Dick is just picturing an empty cut out with no one to imagine in that place, just an awareness that the kid he’d been back then had really truly needed someone there and there’s no one to put in that place instead. (And it really doesn’t come up enough in examinations of Dick’s character, esp in stories using the juvie origin specifically that like....Dick was painfully aware that no one other than Bruce was exactly lining up to do right by him or give him one of those better lives Bruce is optimistically picturing for him when he’s second guessing his own suitability as Dick’s parent. Dick would be like did you forget where you found me??! Who the fuck do you think was going to give me a better life when nobody but you was even seeing a problem with me being in kiddie jail for the crime of Orphaned While Looked Down On By Society?)

But it’s just like....Bruce and Dick’s arguments, especially ones geared around ambiguity as to the status and nature of their relationship....are not conflicts between equals. They’re a son saying he feels like he doesn’t trust the dynamic between them is solid and the father being like well I’d like to reassure you it’s just I’m spiraling because I don’t think I even should be your father.

And that’s just. SO not something Dick can, let alone SHOULD have to address. HE’S the one who’s lost and adrift and basically a homeless orphan the second you take Bruce’s stability out of his life. It isn’t on that guy to reassure the one who volunteered to BE the source of stability in the life of the kid desperately in need of that.

Bruce is of course more than allowed and understandable in having doubts as a parent. But like. You go to Alfred for that. Clark. Selina. Literally any other adult. But not the kid who you force to wonder how to trust in the strength of the bond you’re actively questioning should even exist....when YOU’RE the source of that bond and what he relies on to see himself as even HAVING a parent at all.

Like. It just isn’t the “both equally at fault” thing people keep calling it. It’s a son flailing because he doubts his place in his father’s life at multiple points because his father basically at multiple points flat out says hey you should probably have doubts about that because LOL guess what I’m having right now!

Y’know?

Oh and also, PS - its reeeeeeally not great IMO, how many fics resolve these conflicts by HAVING Dick reassure Bruce that he loves him and is grateful to him for taking him in and he doesn’t know who he’d be without him, because uh....

You basically just ended whatever fight they were having by deciding that Dick couldn’t afford to even BE mad at Bruce any longer for whatever he did or said, because he has to prioritize making Bruce feel better about his own decisions instead of Bruce having to prioritize making him feel better about his place in the Batfam and ensuring Dick knows that he deserves better than just the bare minimum, parenting wise. That if Bruce legitimately fucked up, its okay to call him on it and hold him accountable for recognizing what he’d done and growing to see how he can do better.

Like....that’s not a resolution to their conflict! That’s just Dick being forced to pat his dad on the back for what a good job he did because Bruce’s insecurities are more important to address than whatever it was that Bruce did to upset Dick in the first place, even if it was literally something he’d fucked up as a parent, and that needed addressing or it’d happen again. (Like....it usually ends up happening again).

You literally make it impossible for Bruce to ever TRULY be held accountable for things he does to ANY of his kids....when you continually treat the ultimate resolution to these conflicts being the KIDS reassuring BRUCE.

My eternal mantra, repeated ad nauseam, in all caps for hyperbolic emphasis not because I’m actually yelling at anyone, I’m actually sitting down at my desk, quite calm at the moment just FYI, just saying:

BRUCE IS THE FATHER. BRUCE VOLUNTEERED TO BE THE FATHER. MAKE BRUCE ACT LIKE THE FATHER AND DO THE THINGS THE FATHER IS SUPPOSED TO DO. NOT HIS KIDS.

[curatedbyhatto]

Fool in Utopia - Blacklight

Good morning! This week's song is called 'Blacklight' from the US artist 'Fool in Utopia' (because of time constraints, the video will be/was published on a different day than this post)

Hello! It has been an amazing, a bit stressing but wonderful week for me, and I hope the same applies for you! My birthday was on Thursday, everyone at worked wished me a happy birthday, as well as my friends and family, and to be honest, I love it. On Sunday, my girlfriend and my friends threw a surprise party for me and I cried internally with joy. It was brutal, they got me a Minecraft cake and Floppa cupcakes, some hot snacks, and LASAGNA. You can see more on my instagram profile.

Also, work has been hard, ngl, I started production this week and it's... a lot; but I've managed, we've all managed. And Kasia, my support coach has been amazing. More so because she's there when I panic.

However, back to what we're here for, the music. This week's song is such a freaking masterpiece. So, what about the artist?

About the artist

'Fool in Utopia' is the pseudonym of Texas (USA) based artist 'Marc Rodriguez' (though he's originally from New Jersey). He started playing cello back when he was in fifth grade, then became drummer for 'The Frites'.

However they eventually started college (Marc is currently studying vision science at UIW), got separate ways, and that's when he really discovered his path with 'Fool in Utopia', singing his poems over his ukelele playing.

He cited twenty øne piløts as his biggest inspo (would you look at that, my favorite band too.)

Because of this desire to move further with the project Marc learnt how to produce his own music. Marc started publishing in 2018, with the release of his debut EP 'Eu'

After that, the release of his self titled debut album came, this in March 2019, and 'Blacklight' was there again. This album was produced in his college dorm room, by himself.

Then came all the other releases up to today, including 4 singles (lemon, isla blue, broken hearted boys and keep my head straight) which would later be featured in the June 2022's album 'Arcadia' (which you should also listen too!)

Marc has said the following about his 'Fool in Utopia' project:

"In this perfect place, in this utopia, we grow and we learn; and we try to understand the world around us; a place with ideas, with lessons, with the truth. The truth behind my name is that I feel as if this path, this lifestyle, isn't the one that is as perfect as it could be."

"This idea of 'Fool in Utopia' expresses how we each have a say in how our future turns out, how we are the fools that turn around to look at what this utopia is supporting and what this utopia wants us to be. We don't have to remain confined in this everlasting cycle of concrete floors and contained greenery."

Marc is on social media, like instagram, twitter, and facebook, and of course soundcloud, spotify and youtube. He also has a website for the project (and you should definitely check it out.)

About the song

'Blacklight has appeared on 2 different releases:

In his first EP, 'Eu', as the first of three tracks.

In his debut album, also named 'Fool in Utopia'; this time as the second track.

If I remember correctly, I found the song thanks to an Instagram ad (and trust me when I say I have discovered amazing music like that, from Dansu to Castlecomer, a lot of amazing stuff.)

It was an instant match. The vocals, the uke, the latinamerican percussions, EVERYTHING. I burnt the song. I played it over and over and then the whole album and then I followed Marc and- you get it.

Meaning

'Blacklight (basically) talks about a breakup (or death of a girlfriend) in a very poetic way. Explaining how people act like they don't care about what others feel, and how they make others feel. Deep lyrics, to be honest. Like them. Feel them.

Sources (except the ones already listed on text) 'Afton Emerging Artist: Fool in Utopia' an article in 'afton'3 'Take a listen to 'Fool in Utopia' a column in 'LOGOS' (UIW newspaper) 'Listen To Fool in Utopia New Album' an article on 'VISUAL ATELIER 8'

Gallery

[scripttorture]

Do you have any advice for self-care to use specifically when you are angry and frustrated by torture apologia? Or even more so when being dismissed when confronting others because they think you are not smart, too emotional, not having enough applicable background, etc. I wanted to keep this general. I know you posted about taking breaks and keeping up your mental health but I could not find anything about ways to deal with anger that don’t involve confronting others, especially if it is culturally frowned upon. Thank you for your hard work with this blog.

Well duck, I uh mostly deal with anger by running this blog.

 I’m honestly not sure that I deal with anger well. I try and I’m working on it but I know I struggle to stay calm and polite when something infuriates me. I’m also a lot better at communicating in a helpful, patient and articulate fashion in writing then I am in person.

 Keep in mind that you do not have to have these conversations every time someone is spouting torture apologia.

 Spreading awareness is great! Educating others is great!

 But (and I really can not stress this enough) it is not your job to correct everyone. It is not your job to ‘fix’ people. It is not your job to persuade others they should care.

 Pick your battles. Engage with people who you think you can have a genuine conversation with. Remember that when you’re talking politics (and torture is political) then the aim is not to convert the people on the extreme ends: it’s to persuade the people who are on the fence.

 And if you really want to engage with people engage about the things they care about. If you’re talking to someone who believes in law and order or justice as retribution then talk about how torture puts police at risk and how it leads to innocent people landing in jail. If you’re talking to people who are concerned with safety in their neighbourhoods talk about how torture can serve as a recruiting factor for extremist groups and gangs. If they’re concerned about public health and the treatment of the mentally ill talk about how torture causes life long health problems and how that takes away from the economy.

 Aim at the level where people are willing to engage with you.

 If people take issue with your level of education or subject and question how you can know this stuff; act like an academic would. Cite your sources.

 ‘Well Rejali who studied this for years and created one of the most detailed analysis of global torture we have-’ ‘O’Mara, who studies the brain and how trauma impacts it,’ ‘Morgan, who put US marines through a mock interrogation with mild levels of stress and found-’ ‘Shalev who studies solitary confinement-’ ‘Sironi who is a psychologist and has interviewed hundreds of torturers-’ ‘Kara who produced the largest data base of interviews with modern slaves-’

 Repressing your anger, tapping it down, is not a good idea. As with most negative emotions it’s healthier to let yourself feel them and work through them.

 It’s also important to recognise that while there are real reasons for your feelings you can not always do anything about them. And there comes a point where you have to deal with that. The things that anger us and hurt us are not always things we can actually personally effect. Changing public opinion takes decades and is the work of thousands of people, not one individual.

 I feel like those of us who are not from the West have a bit of an advantage here, because sitting with that anger and learning when and how to put it aside is something you grow up with.

 Having support helps a lot. Having people you can talk to about this stuff is incredibly important. And I am so grateful to all of the people I know who support me in this: the court journalists, philosophers, writers and researchers who I can discuss this with. I also get a lot from reading about the successes around the world, modern or historical. They’re out there.

 Martial arts have also helped me a lot over the years. Capoeira helped me a lot but given the pandemic it isn’t a great idea right now. But a pair of boxing pads and a willing house mate are definitely a good way to get out some anger. Thumb on the outside of your fist, never inside your fingers. Keep it close to your body, fist at your hip, thumb upwards. Twist as you punch so your thumb faces down as you connect with the pad. Make sure to move your hips.

 Don’t do what I did at uni and try to use a pillow instead of proper pads. You’ll end up bruised.

 Right now, without a decent capoeira group and a lockdown in place, I do push ups.

 If you have a garden dig. Plant young trees, if you’re in the northern hemisphere (it’s the wrong time in the southern hemisphere.) Dig a vegetable patch. Make an area of wild flowers by cutting and tearing out the grass, raking the ground and scattering native plant seeds in the mud.

 Take all the electric whisks out of the kitchen and make a cake. Cream the butter until it feels like your arm will fall off.

 Make a curry from scratch without a blender. I use a granite pestle and mortar and it takes several batches and several hours to grind a proper paste. I’m a big fan of Matar Paneer and it freezes well giving some tasty work lunches for a week or so.

 Make bread. I’m not very good at this but the kneading, layering and mixing all take a lot of work. Which can be a very good outlet. I wish I could give you a paratha recipe but the truth is my skill level is no where near high enough to attempt the best breads. (I buy mine frozen.)

 The advantage I’ve found from all of these outlets is they’re constructive. Boxing and push ups will make you stronger, whatever skill level you start at. Gardening will give you fruit, vegetables or wonderful flowers in a few months time. It’ll give you new knowledge of plants. Cooking any of the things I’ve suggested will give you wonderful food and more skills.

 I always try to find something constructive to do with my anger. I think there’s a tendency to portray anger as bad in and of itself rather then having a conversation about how we act on our anger.

 I also can’t stress enough how writing can help. Fiction is an excellent way to process our feelings and express why we feel the way we do.

 The piece of fanfiction I’m currently writing has one of the characters dealing with a traumatic brain injury. Writing this character struggling to communicate what he’s going through and trying to come to terms with his limits while the people around him are looking at him and saying ‘well you don’t look disabled-’ It’s helped me process a lot of my anger over how I’m treated because of my mental health problems and the dumb, unnecessary barriers that make my life more difficult.

 What’s the root of the anger here? When you know that, you can address it with words. You can construct a story that will explore it. You can see it through the lense of different characters. And that really helps process it.

 I hope that helps :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[quietmyfearswith]

girl at home ; andy barber x fem!reader ; 1/3

status — completed series

word count — 4,830 words

warnings — few swear words, a bit of defending jacobs spoilers, not compliant with book/show ending, fluff?? bit of angst???

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — lmao i lied this comes first then in a few i’ll post the final part of public’s eye. if someone reads this pls tell me what youd be more interested in, august walker or steve rogers social media au

masterlist | series masterlist

After proving Jacob’s innocence Andy imagined things would have been smooth-sailing from there. He was wrong.

Laurie asked for a divorce; citing how their marriage was built on a lie and that it was time to be truthful to themselves and to Jacob. They both also agreed that it wasn’t just working anymore, but on Andy’s part he was more than willing to try harder for it to work, but didn't want to push it. He accepted her wishes and didn’t fight for full custody over Jacob — he was more than content with spending weekends and certain holidays with his son. They both moved out of their Newton house and revealed to Andy how they were both relocating to Bakersfield in California; the lawyer being partially surprised with how far they were moving, but ultimately remembered how she had some family members over there.

Before their departure, Andy and Jacob got to bond one last time and somehow their conversation shifted to how the former had no plans of selling the house and moving somewhere else. “Don’t you think you’d be too lonely?”

The blunt question did get Andy thinking but he shrugged it off, “Maybe? I just don’t see myself living anywhere else, I guess.”

Nodding, the boy looked out the window as the Audi drove by. His eyes scanned a big red sign that read “For Rent” and suddenly gave him the idea as he turned to his father, “Or you could put a room up for rent?”

Hitting the brakes smoothly as there was a red light, he turned to his son and looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed, “What?” 

“Green light,” Jacob informed and Andy nodded as he released his foot off the brake and continued the way home, “Advertise my room, or the spare one, for rent. That way, you know, you won’t really be alone.”

Pursing his lips together, Andy thought about it for a while. Would anyone even one to live there? With him? He didn’t want to seem like he was rejecting his son’s idea or make him feel like he was a fool for coming up with that one so he just found himself nodding, “Sounds like a great idea, pal.”

And when they were back at home, Jacob insisted he help his dad place an advertisement online for the availability of the spare bedroom across Jacob’s. Even though he thought it was a foolish idea, Andy just went along with it for two reasons — one, he just wanted to go along with what his son wanted and make him somewhat happy. And the second one being he was absolutely positive no one would want to live here.

It was a deal too good to be true; surely there had to be a catch? $500 a month for a room that was fully furnished? Maybe the house was just ugly? Or perhaps the room wasn’t really how it was pictured? Either way Y/N found herself messaging the house owner, Andy Barber, and let her know she was interested in checking the place out.

Pulling up in front of the house, Y/N let out a long whistle as she marveled at how the exterior of the house was well-groomed and clean. Exiting her car, she made her way to the front door and rang the doorbell and leaned by one of the columns as she took in the quiet ambiance of the neighborhood. Hearing the door creak upon, she turned around and smiled, “Hi! Are you Andy Barber?”

The bearded man was dressed in a simple ragged t-shirt and a pair of sweats; and despite the impression that he had just woken up, she thought that he had this cute boyish charm to him. “Yeah that’s me, you must be Y/N?” He offered his hand out for a shake, one which the girl enthusiastically shook. 

As they both unclasped their hands Y/N wondered, “Is it a bad time? I can come back later,” Her question had him chuckling and she felt her heart warm with how relaxed he looked as he shook his head, “It’s not a bad time, this is just how I normally look.”

He stepped aside so she could come in and take a tour of the house. As Y/N was being shown around the house, she could not prevent her jaw from dropping from how cozy, elegant, and complete everything looked.

“And if you choose to, this is where you’ll be staying,” Andy opened the room to the spare bedroom and led her inside and allowed her to take a look around. It had a bed, a dresser and wardrobe, mirror, a reading chair, and a study desk paired with an office chair.

Turning to the man, “So what’s the catch?” Her question caught him off guard and folded his arms as he tilted his head to the side, “The catch?”

She nodded and looked at him as if she had the telepathic abilities to let him know what she was thinking, “You know, the reason why the rent’s so cheap? Is this house haunted? Do you actually have a rat infestation problem?”

As Andy threw his head back laughing at her suggestions, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this carefree. “No catch,” he explained once he calmed down from laughing and sat down on the reading chair, “Not haunted or rat infestation, really. Just I don’t know,” he struggled to look for the right words as he placed his hands on his thighs and rubbed them, “Put a room up for rent just so I wouldn’t get lonely.”

Y/N leaned by the office desk that was beside the chair Andy was sitting on as she spoke, “Well I liked the place so much; I’m guessing that means you won’t have to be alone?”

Looking up at her Andy smiled, “That’s great then, let me get the spare house key for you.” 

“I hope I don’t seem too fast or what, but I hope you don’t mind if I move my things up already? I have all my belongings in the car.”

Andy nodded, “Oh no worries about it, let me help you get your stuff.”

For the next couple of hours, Y/N settled her things around the room. She placed her clothes on the dresser and wardrobe. Settled her pictures and other stationery items on the desk. Attaching the house keys to the keychain she had which contained her keys and skipped her way down the stairs. 

Seeing how Andy was by his office area she asked, “Oh by the way I forgot to ask, are you allergic to something?”

“Planning to kill me already huh?” He joked as he looked at her pointedly to which she rolled her eyes at, “No, dummy. I was planning on cooking dinner.”

“Nope, not allergic to anything,” he clarified and she smiled and waved goodbye. Looking at her retreating form, Andy shook his head as he took note of how silly his new roommate was. He buried himself with preparing his things for office as Y/N went around to explore her new neighborhood’s grocery store.

Dozing off in the bedroom, Andy woke up once a savory and aromatic smell hit his nostrils. Rubbing off the sleep in his eyes, he sat up and glanced at the clock on his bedside table and took note of how it was already 5:30 in the evening. Slept longer than I thought I would, he thought to himself as he left the comfort of his bedroom and headed to see the source of the fantastic smell.

Upon reaching the kitchen he was greeted with the sight of Y/N moving around the kitchen, “What’s all this commotion about?”

Stopping her movements from stirring the pot, she smiled, “Cooking dinner; made carbonara,” she pointed to the pot she was currently attending to, “Baked some garlic bread,” she pointed to the pyrex container which had a few loaves of bread in it, “And some chicken tenders as well, because I was craving.”

Nodding, he grabbed a chicken tender and took a bite of it to which she gasped, “Andy! Couldn’t even wait a few more minutes!” The taller man could only sheepishly smile with his mouth full of chicken, “Sorry ‘bout that, want me to set the table?”

“Please do. Oh and I noticed you had a certain beer in the fridge so I hope you don’t mind I bought you a pack?” As she mentioned that he did see a new, unopened pack next to the single beer he had left inside the fridge. “Thanks for that; red wine your poison?” He inquired since he noticed a wine bottle he surely never bought. Seeing her nod, he asked if she wanted a glass to which she said yes to. In the next few minutes a comfortable silence engulfed them as they both were focused on preparing their first meal together. 

Once everything was put in place they both sat across each other, Y/N placed her hands under her chin and looked at Andy with an excited look in her eyes, the man raised his brow at her, asking her nonverbally what she was looking at him for. “Go ahead, try it,” she softly encouraged him to which he nodded and swirled his fork around the pasta which the white sauce had already clung into and opened his mouth to taste.

“It’s good,” he complimented her as he swallowed, “Better than anything I’ve eaten in the past few months.” She clapped her hands and started to eat as well. “I was surprised to see your lack of groceries.”

He waited until his mouth was empty from eating the garlic bread she had before explaining, “Don’t really cook a lot; survived off takeout recently.” Despite having her mouth full with a tender, a loud shock was emitted from the woman across and Andy lightly cuckold at how adorable her reaction was. 

“Lucky for you, I love to cook so you won’t be filling yourself up with that junk,” she assured him as she drank from her glass of wine. Setting his fork down he looked at her skeptical, “What brings you to Newton anyway?”

Her hands tore the garlic bread as she gulped down her drink, “Just finished college then found a job here so there’s that.”

“Which program did you take?” He wondered; not knowing if it was his curiosity about someone living in his house or it was the lawyer in him couldn’t help but question everything.

“Took a few years off after high school to know what I really wanted to do; then just took a two year course,” she further explained as she told him which degree she chose. Somehow her answer just had Andy even more interested so he pried, “Why not get a full degree?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Didn’t want to waste four years of my life.” 

“Would four years really be wasted if you spent it studying something you’re interested in?” he retorted back as he took a swig of his beer.

“Touché,” she acknowledged as she gobbled some pasta, “But I don’t know, I just feel like the time I’m spending on studying would be better spent if I was actually doing something I want. Get a job I wanna do. Visit every state in the country. Get a house with a pool. You know, just do things that make me happy without having any regrets”

As she listed off the things she desired in life, a solemn expression graced Andy’s face. Her perspective did make him think about how he lived his own life as well. Perhaps how there were certain choices that did make him happy and somehow there were regrets lingering in his mind. “And have you done any of those?”

“Well obviously I don’t have a house,” she joked as she waved her hand around Andy’s home, “But I did get a job here that I think I’ll enjoy, an 8-5 kind,” she paused for a while to gulp down more of the red wine she bought, “What about you?”

“What about me “ he questioned back as he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She rolled her eyes jokingly, “What’s your story, I guess? What brought you here in Newton?”

Her naivety had him questioning whether or not she knew the whole ordeal that his family went through; but he spared her of the full details, maybe next time or once he felt like he could fully trust her he’d tell her everything. “Had family here with me, but not anymore,” her eyes widened in shock with what he revealed but he was quick to reassure her, “I'm divorced now, ex-wife has full custody of our son. Used to be an assistant district attorney, now I’m just in private practice for civil litigation cases.”

Somehow, Andy felt a weight unload once he told her about him. Though granted it wasn’t the whole thing, but having someone to talk did make him feel lighter, more human. Y/N, on the other hand, felt amazed with how Andy chose to carry on despite what he’s been through. She got the feeling there was more to it than what he let on; and pity was not what she felt but more of feeling happy with how he did not give up and instead keep on going.

Holding her glass she raised it, “Here’s to new beginnings and being single then,” she toasted. Smiling, he raised his beer bottle and brought it to touch against her glass, “To new beginnings and being single.” The two then proceeded to finish the rest of their meal in silence.

The sun was shining bright that Monday morning and Andy woke up early to head down to their basement and do his morning exercise. Thirty minutes into it, he could sense that Y/N had woken up not only due to her footsteps he heard, but also because he could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen.

As he finished his workout, he headed up to his room to take a quick shower and dress up for his work. Granted it might have been too early to do all those but the smell of the food and the company of which he’d be eating breakfast enticed him to do so. Heading down, he was dressed in his full lawyer gear, minus the jacket, and smiled as he saw Y/N eating the rest of her pancakes by the breakfast bar.

“Morning Andy,” she greeted him, “There’s a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like,” she pointed to where she had just gotten a cup for herself as well. “Thank you,” he then moved to get himself a cup and once he did he took note of a plate that had a couple of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

Pointing to it he accused her, “It’s as if you want me to waste the workout I just did huh.” She threw her head back in laughter at what he said while shaking his head to tell him that it wasn’t her intention. Glancing down on her wrist watch she mumbled a soft, “Shit,” upon noticing the time. Stacking her mug on the plate she moved to the sink where Andy grabbed the cutlery and utensils from her, “Let me do it and go ahead.”

Placing a hand on his forearm — in which they both felt relaxed and warm at their first touch — she thanked him for doing so and grabbed her bag that she placed on the couch. “Good luck on your first day,” Andy called out as he began munching on his own food. She yelled a quick thanks and see you as she closed the door behind her. Staring down on his plate, he smiled again upon seeing how the food in his plate resembled a smiley face; She really is something, he thought to himself.

The rest of the week flew by and both Andy and Y/N spent the week almost doing everything together. The former would wake up early and get his workout down; and sometime during the 45 minutes he’d spend on the basement the latter would take that time to prepare herself for the day ahead as well as the most important meal for their day. And if there were leftovers from the night before or that she had made too much for breakfast and was able to whip it into something for lunch, then she packed those not only for her, but for Andy as well.

And their routine together did not just stop there it bled into the night as well. Where it was always Y/N who came home first. After taking a bath either she’d start cooking supper or she would clean around the house a little — she noticed how Andy’s office area was frequently messy and she did her best to fix the mess without being too intrusive about it. She never step foot in his room, wanting him to have his privacy, but from what she could see he kept it organized despite having a few trash here and there, so she didn’t really loiter in that area of the house.

In hindsight, Y/N didn’t have to cook and clean for Andy. But with how low her rent was she felt that it was only fair to do so. Plus there was a part of her that somehow liked being around him, having someone to talk to about everything and anything they both could think of. There was never really a dull conversation between them.

Friday night arrived and instead of cooking another meal Y/N decided to get a pizza, wings, and another pack of beer for Andy. As she was in the liquor portion of the grocery she bumped into one of their neighbors, Joan RIfkin, whom she also recognized as one of the friends of her workmate.

“Y/N, right?” the woman asked as she looked at her with concern. “Yeah, that’s me. We met through Emily, when you helped her get to work,” Y/N recalled, both for her and Joan.

“Is it true that you live with Andy?” her question had Y/N wondering, how the hell did she know that? Despite that thought she nodded, “Room was cheap so I thought why not?”

Her nervous chuckle could not ease the tension between the two ladies; especially when Joan gave her a stern look as she warned her, “Be careful, okay? The Barber’s caused quite a ruckus and Andy is quite unpredictable.”

As Joan walked away while pushing her cart, Y/N was left confused and conflicted. The new information presented to her, though it was vague, left her puzzled about whether or not it was true. She was also unsure about the need to clarify with Andy what she has just been told.

Once his car was parked in the garage, Andy loosened his tie and entered the house. What greeted him was not the sight of Y/N cooking but her sitting on the couch while scrolling through her phone. Placed in the coffee table was a pizza box, his usual beer, a glass of wine, and box of chicken wings as well as a couple of paper plates.

“Didn’t feel like cooking today huh?” he jeered as he placed a hand on his hip, the other hand holding his briefcase for work. Diverting her eyes from her phone to the man in front she grinned at him, “No, but I felt like having pizza. Maybe we could watch a movie while eating?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go change quickly,” he told her and she nodded. Andy then went up the stairs, taking two steps at a time to do so. Somehow there was this part of him that was incredibly excited at the thought of being physically close with Y/N. but he just shook his head at the thought and claimed that he was just excited to unwind the week’s stress with food, beer, and a movie.

Heading down after he dressed in more comfortable clothes he asked, “Alright, what are we watching?” Y/N shrugged as she moved to open the box of pizza, “Want a slice?” Andy nodded as he grabbed the remote and thanked her, “You heard about the hippie who burnt his mouth on the pizza?”

While holding a pizza slice of her own she looked at him and tilted her head to the side, her face being a combination of confusion and curiosity, one that Andy found charming. The bearded man had his face in faux seriousness as he continued, “He ate it before it was considered cool.”

Upon realizing the joke, Y/N let out a few giggles — real giggles, Any took note. “Okay not gonna lie, that was good,” she took a bite, “ Haven’t heard that one before.” Saying that made Andy feel proud, somehow his lame dad jokes made this brilliant woman laugh. “You wanna watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off?”

She nodded at his suggestion, “Yeah why not? Haven’t watched that in a while.” And so they both began to watch it as they ate and drank.

As they watched the film their occasional laughs were the only sound emitted from the two. As Andy was grabbing for a few slices or chicken wings, he found himself scooting closer beside Y/N, who didn’t really mind it and instead found having him close was comforting. The wartm that seeped past his clothed thigh and on to her bare skin as she was only wearing shorts made her feel safe. And somehow Andy’s arm found itself draped across the couch, almost touching Y/N’s shoulders, his fingers almost touching her. When she did move to drink her wine her skin touched the tips of his fingers rested on her shoulders and Andy who drank some of his beer as well looked alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I can move away if you’d like,” he said as he began to remove his hand from where it was comfortable in her shoulder. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him a little too quickly, “I mean, I don’t really mind. I’m not the type of person who hates hugging so I don’t really mind at all.”

She couldn’t prevent herself from physically cringing with what she said and how stupid it must have soounded like; but the man beside her didn’t think so based on his eyes crinkled in laughter. His arm then dropped from being on her shoulders and settled itself on her waist and pulled him as close as they could be sitting beside, “Well I hope you won’t mind if I do this then?”

She felt herself flutter with how smooth the man was and just silently assured him by placing her head against his shoulder, both turning their attention back to the movie.

As the end credits rolled, they both were full and were just now finishing up the last of the drinks. Y/N fiddled with her fingers as she had an internal debate about whether or not she should bring up her conversation with Joan earlier.

“You alright, Y/N?” Andy noticed how her actions might have indicated how she was nervous, a complete opposite to how she was earlier. Setting down his empty bottle on the coffee table, he turned to her and grasped both her hands in his, loving the feel of her soft hands against his calloused ones.

“It’s just, there’s something I need to ask,” she sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if it would have helped her say it better, “No, not really ask, but tell you. I don't know.” Her hesitation and uncertainty was something Andy easily sensed and he did his best to calm her down by rubbing their hands together and telling her she could tell him anything.

“So after work, I headed to the grocery to grab your beer, right? Then I saw Joan there, I don’t know her surname though. Anyway, she warned me to be careful of you because you’re unpredictable and that your family had caused a ruckus?” She ended her encounter with the woman by looking up at Andy, and the latter was surprised that there was no disgust in her tone and facial expressions; but more of worry? As if she was worried that rumors were spreading around about him and his family.

He stopped rubbing her hands and instead settled with fiddling with them, “I think it’s best if you found out now,” he began before taking a deep breath, “Almost two years ago, Ben Rifkin, a fourteen year old boy, died. At the time I was the assistant district attorney and was assigned to investigate. When fingerprints of my son, Jacob, were found in the body everyone assumed he did it.”

“Did he?” Y/N question when she noticed it took Andy sometime to continue with his story. Shaking his head no he picked up where he left off the story, “He didn’t, his fingerprints were there because he just saw the body, panicked and didn’t call the police. A man who had a record for groping and stalking kids did it. But Joan, Ben’s mom was still convinced that Jacob had something to do with her son’s death even after it was proved that he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry about that Andy, she has no right to name you and your family those things,” Y/N was quick to comfort him. But he only chuckled sadly, “Does she not?” She could feel that there was more Andy wanted to say so she remained silent, “During the trial and investigation, they were fully convinced Jacob did it because of me, of my father.”

He said those three words with so much hate and disdain, “My estranged father, rather, he raped and killed some student many years ago. Now he’s serving a life sentence for it. They claimed that I had this murder gene and somehow Jacob got it too, hence why he killed Ben.”

After hearing his explanation, Y/N now understood why Joan claimed Andy was unpredictable. She also empathize with the mother who lost her son and understood why she felt this indifference towards the Barbers; but she still believed that maybe Joan would someday accept that the what they’ve been believing — that Jacob had any involvement for her son’s death — is nothing but mere suspicion that was proved false.

“I mean, I understand why she holds this sort of grudge against you or your family,” Andy’s heart dropped at what Y/N said and loosened his grip on her hands, prepared to hear her say how she wanted to leave his house that somewhat felt like home ever since she came, “But it’ll take time for her to accept the truth and disregard the suspicion she had. I believe in what you say and do think that you are harmless.”

Her statement had Andy looking up from where he was staring at their hands and looked up at her with relief in his face, “What?” He could not help but sound meek as he asked so; but he felt the opposite, he felt empowered and invincible upon knowing that there was someone on his side for once.

Deciding to do something risky, Y/N leaned forward to plant a gentle and comforting kiss on Andy’s forehead, “What happened to Joan’s son was horrible, yes. But if you say, and an investigation says your son had nothing to do with it, then I believe it. And murder gene? The only thing that a gene can pass down to us is sickness,” she joked, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere and was pleased to see how Andy laughed softly at it,”You’re not what your father did, okay? The only way to define you is through what you say, think, and do.”

Andy smiled as he stared at her lovingly, “And if I think and tell you that you’re such a beautiful person, inside and out, and that it's been great having you here live with me?” She laughed as she rested her cheek against her hand and sassed at him, “I’d call bullshit ‘cause you probably used that line with your wife.”

He just rolled his eyes as he moved her around so she could comfortably lay her head against his chest as he wrapped his muscular arms around her frame. “Well then I’m just gonna have to do my best to prove it to you the entire time you’re here then.”

Turning her head so she could face him, “Well joke’s on you, I plan to be here for quite a long time.” The butterflies in Andy’s stomach then went wild at what she said, but his composure allowed him to answer back with, “I don’t mind that at all, honey.”

Laying a kiss on her forehead, he then teased her about the grin she had on her face and two then talked the rest of the night away.

part two

[vinceaddams]

obvs feel free to keep this private, but I got recommended the UFH channel by a friend of mine, haven't gotten around to watching anything from it. I trust your judgement on the content, but my friend considers it her main resource 🙃 of course, since you only watched a few videos you might not be able to answer this, but was there any specific really bad/unacademic approaches I should keep my eye out for that my friend might have adopted? we work on a historical festival together so im concern

(I was going to answer this privately but then it got really long and turned into a post I want to post.)

Oh dear! Well, It appears that the lady behind that channel only cares about the 20th century, so maaybe she’s got good stuff on the 20th century at least? I don’t know, but the 2 videos that I saw were so incredibly awful that I’m highly suspicious of all her stuff. 

The first bad thing about her channel is that her videos all have a one or two sentence caption and nothing else. (I clicked on a few more just to check) No sources listed, no links of any kind except to her merch store. I don’t recall her mentioning any particular sources for any of the things she said in the videos either, she just declared them very matter of factly. 

Good historians cite sources! Bernadette Banners’ video on the history of PPE has so many source links she ran out of room in the description box and had to put the rest of them on a page on her website.  (Oh poo, now I feel a bit bad because I love Karolina Zebrowska but she really needs to do better with leaving source links. But she does talk about doing research, talk in a more nuanced way, and doesn’t present herself as an expert or academic, unlike the UFH lady.)

Good historians also embrace nuance, and aren’t afraid to say “I don’t know” or “I was wrong”. Presenting things in a “this person did this one big thing, and then this happened, and that caused this” kind of way isn’t good because history is more like “all these things happened and as far as we can tell it appears to have influenced this, which was also connected to this other stuff that we don’t know all that much about”. History is foggy and complicated, no matter how much the general public wants it to be simple.

Her description of herself also seems a bit... misleading? In her about page on youtube it says “Amanda Hallay, a college professor specializing in fashion, costume, and cultural history.” but if you look at the CV linked on her website the only degrees she has are in creative writing and art history. I’m not saying a person can’t be really knowledgable about something without a degree, but her whole online presence is about being a “professor” who teaches this stuff so I find it weird.

And if the 1850′s-60s video is anything to go by, she presents things in a shockingly unprofessional way. She starts off by saying she thinks these fashions are ugly and ridiculous and that she has some “theories of her own” on them. @marzipanandminutiae has a post with a lot more about what was wrong with that video, and a few others I haven’t seen. She claims that hoop skirts were oppressive cages when in reality they were a liberating garment that allowed women to achieve full skirts without the heavy layered petticoats they wore previously. 

She posts a photo of a naked lady and says “Now lets start with a beautiful naked lady and cover her up with ugly and unflattering clothes. Now this sexy naked lady isn’t so sexy” I wish I was making this up but that’s almost word for word what she said. Along with a whole lot of untrue or exaggerated stuff about Victorian modesty. She says dresses with layered flounces were called “pagoda dresses”, which isn’t a term that anyone has ever used for those dresses. She says this is cut down from a longer video she uses for teaching class, and I find the thought of this being presented in a classroom quite appalling.

After spending about 95% of the video talking about womens fashion in an extremely condescending and disdainful tone of voice, she posts what appear to be the 5 biggest and most extreme examples of 19th century moustaches she could find, presenting them as if they were what every man looked like.

This part really grinds my gears, because she says “I haven’t said anything about menswear because there’s really not much to say.” She posts photos of suits from 5 different decades and says they’re basically all the same, and also basically the same as a modern suit. Excuse you, there is A LOT of difference between menswear of the 1850′s and the 1890′s. Yes the changes over the decades are more subtle, and the colours are often more subdued than in centuries past, but it is absolutely not (as she claims) “the century when men stopped doing fashion”.   I personally am not hugely interested in 19th century mens fashion, and can tentatively date things in the first few decades but after the middle of the century I can’t. But people who are interested and who study that era can tell the decades apart. Because they’re different. And there is SO MUCH to talk about! Suits for different levels of formality, accessories, waistcoats, sportswear, sleepwear, knitwear, swimsuits, loungewear, underwear, etc. are all extremely different from their modern equivalents. 

It’s perfectly fine to only study womens fashion if that’s what you’re interested in, but it is not okay to then declare that the history of mens fashion is worthless and nonexistent. Simply not being interested in a thing is no excuse for publicly shitting all over it. (I’ve seen people do this more than once. We already have so few men who do historical fashion stuff! Stop putting off newcomers who might be interested!!)

The fact that her online presence is so closed off is also highly unusual. Comments are turned off for her videos, and the only social media link she has is to a private facebook group. (There is also a link to a fb page, but it appears to have been deleted.) Turning off comments is of course the personal choice of the one posting the videos, but the fashion history side of youtube usually tends towards pretty decent comment threads, and people often have nice little discussions and learn stuff in them. Here it looks like she doesn’t want discussion, doesn’t want to be contradicted or asked for sources, doesn’t want to learn new things.

I had never even heard of this channel until I saw @marzipanandminutiae mention it, nor have I ever heard any of the many historical costumers/youtubers I follow mention it, yet somehow it has 55k followers? I don’t know the demographics that watch it (especially not with the comments turned off!) but I’d wager that videos like the 1850′s-60′s one I suffered through are mainly watched by people who like hearing things trash talked, rather than people who actually want to learn about fashion history. The same sort of people who loved that Beau Brummell twitter thread, which was also full of lies and unsourced garbage. People like to believe the past was way worse and grosser than it was because it makes them feel like we’re smarter and better now.

Lastly, the whole premise of the channel is just bad. Calling any one thing “The Ultimate Fashion History” is a bad idea. Her channel trailer says “Youtube’s number one channel for original fashion history content” “we’ve got it all, fifty thousand years of fashion history”. You can’t have one channel that’s the ultimate resource for ALL of fashion history! It’s a huge, HUGE subject, and even if she did do actual good research she’d barely be able to scratch the surface of fifty thousand years. That’s like saying one channel is the ultimate source for all of science, or all of music, or all of cooking. No one thing can come close to covering all of it. I will deign to admit that she’s at least right to call it “original”, because she has some very original lies I haven’t found anywhere else. 

Most people who study fashion history/historical sewing have one or several eras they like best and find most interesting, perhaps with occasional jaunts into other eras. This way we can focus and get a much better understanding of the eras that we find most interesting, rather than just a vague notion of everything. 

For example: I’m most interested in 18th century menswear, and so far have mainly researched and sewn 1785-95 stuff, and more recently some 1730′s. I usually focus on fashionable civilian clothing, so I don’t know as much about working class clothes, and next to nothing about military and other occupational dress. Even with this narrow area of interest, which I’ve been obsessed with for many years, I still have so much to learn! I could never make anything claiming to be the ultimate source for 18th century menswear, because I’m just one person focusing on some aspects, and there are other people out there who research other aspects of it and their work is just as important. It’s all so big and so much, even if you narrow it down to one era.

Amanda Hallay is basically holding up a bucket of saltwater and calling it the ocean.

I haven’t watched any of her 20th century videos, so maybe they’re better than the older ones I watched. I don’t know. (But even if they’re actually good they still don’t have source links.) Edit: okay, nope, turns out they’re just as bad! They appear to make up the vast majority of her videos, so if she’s most interested in the 20th century then maybe she should just... make her channel more clearly 20th century focused instead of trying to paint it as a channel for all eras?

TL;DR, the main bad things about that channel are:

Lying and making ridiculous claims, not citing ANY sources. Spouting easily debunked myths.

Stating things matter of factly without any nuance, even though history is foggy and complicated.

Being extremely judgemental about historical fashions and talking about how much she hates them and thinks they’re ugly, which really isn’t appropriate for a fashion history teacher. You can hear the disgust in her voice and it’s awful and I hate it.

Comments turned off on all her videos, leaving no way to communicate or have public discussions. Unknowing viewers are left to accept her statements as fact without any outside opinions.

Claiming one channel is the ultimate channel for an incalculably enormous subject. Says it covers 50,000 years of fashion history when it’s mostly just the 20th century.

I would like to add that I am not what I would consider an expert either, and have no formal education in fashion history beyond the one college class that was part of my 2 year sewing course. I have learned mainly from books and the internet, and as I said earlier I still have a huge amount to learn. I’m sure a more knowledgable historian could put things better than I have. 

But I’m confident in stating that primary sources are needed to back up a claim! Sometimes even widely accepted beliefs turn out to be entirely unfounded myths, like that one about doctors using vibrators to treat “hysteria”. Total nonsense someone made up in 1999.

Wow this post got way longer than intended. Anyways, yes, I do not like condescending slideshow lady.