#obviously you should be able to fact check all your sources and even take sources that go against what you seriously

[cowboy-like-moony]

To be fair to you, there ARE plenty of people who believe and are genuinely claiming that she was at some point a cop.

Okay damn, I've only seen people say she supports cops and is basically this blue lives matter candidate and I assumed that people who say she was a cop kinda meant the same thing, but just phrased it like that to make a point, but who am I to question people's stupidity?

[scintillyyy]

okay i'm gonna do it. i'm gonna talk about boarding school syndrome.

alright so obviously the reason this has come to my attention is because i'm more frequently seeing the concept in association with tim, so of course i wanted to do my own look into it to see if i agreed. because tbh everything i was seeing about boarding school syndrome as a concept felt very similar to a lot of things you see in parenting science stuff--where new theories are presented as science based absolute fact despite the fact that the actual evidence therein leaves a bit to be desired and the research isn't actually super robust & does a bit of twisting of other research to suit their needs & has not really shown it's replicable outside of the people who are pushing their theory in particular.

and this is not to say that boarding school doesn't exist or boarding school doesn't cause harm to kids at all, those things can be very true. but i also would like to point out how and why you should be looking at sweeping claims of it critically, even if you do agree with the theory and the findings themselves.

so, my first quick purview into boarding school syndrome shows that most of what you immediately get about it upon looking it up is from therapy clinics themselves about all the negative things that boarding school definitely causes. which, isn't inherently bad, but you should always keep in mind that whenever it's a website for a clinic--they're very much trying to sell you the need for their services & you should always take into account that bias. one of the clinics did have a list of references for boarding school syndrome, so i decided to check these out.

one is a link to john bowlby's initial theory of attachment and the idea that separation itself is traumatic for kids. however this is where we start to see some twisting of exisiting research to suit one's needs--bowlby himself was focused on wartime orphans and traumatic separation as a result which people nowadays do like to extrapolate his findings into any sort of separation, even nontraumatic, for funsies.

one of the sources was a link to the website of the woman who coined boarding school syndrome, not actual research

one of the sources for the evils of boarding school was a random blog post

one was a general paper on dissociation but nothing to do with boarding school in particular causing it

one was a news article from a man who is also a big name in the concept and who also happens to have had a traumatic boarding school experience himself

one appears to be a book or opinion article from, again, the woman who coined boarding school syndrome as a thing

i can't say i'm super impressed thus far, as there's a lot of pretty serious and sweeping claims being made and no signficant robust evidence across several nonbiased sources to back them up. frankly, it kind of reminds me of the packets you get in baby friendly hospitals that say if you feed your kids formula they'll be fat, get depression, get cancer, and kill themselves. if you're going to make sweeping assertions of this magnitude, you gotta be able to back it up with good evidence.

anyways, this brings me to the main players in the idea of boarding school syndrome. the one who coined it, joy schaverien, and nick duffell. schaverien appears to have conceived the theory due to seeing what she felt was a strong correlation in her specific patient population having gone to boarding school with having issues as an adult and began to attribute said difficulties to boarding school. nick duffell wrote a book about it, his evidence was his own traumatic experiences and traumatic experiences of famous people who attended boarding school. and not that those experiences aren't important or valid or awful, they very much were. the limitation lies in whether you can extrapolate those specific experiences of abusive boarding into whether or not nonabusive boarding school in general is in and of itself harmful as a concept. and, well. obviously hearing from these sources about harms is good and important, but we do have to keep in mind that they are human and have biases. they also derive a lot of their anecdotal evidence from explicitly abusive boarding situations back in the past and then appear to attribute the issues that result from the attending boarding school portion vs the abuse portion and then apply it to current boarding school as evil as a whole. they are making a suggestion that boarding separation is traumatic, no able to definitively say it is traumatic. anyways. i'm just saying, these two are going to want to prove themselves right. just like the wonder weeks guy. and hey, they can be biased and correct. that's always a possibility. in that case, we would be able to see significant replicable findings in similar research, that boarding school is bad for all kids. so can we?

well. i'll be honest. from my cursory perusing, as a whole research into boarding school is limited, and the studies themselves are largely weak--be it sample size, failure to account for confounding variables, tending to be survey based which will likely give you a biased sample pool to begin with. but still, evidence can be evidence. so does the evidence largely show that boarding school is evil and kids suffer just going to it and it will cause kids to have all sorts of terrible issues into adulthood? it's decidedly.....mixed. some studies show some signficant increases in things like depression, anxiety, substance abuse disorders. others show that there's really not a whole lot of difference between boarders and nonboarders when it comes to attachment, others show minimal difference in emotional issues, some studies even indicate boarders report getting along with their parents better than nonboarders or at the very least, no significant differences between boarders and non boarders in their relationships with peers or adults, or boarding school potentially having better outcomes in comparison to unstable home situations. but these studies have limitations of their own--tending to research just older children vs younger children, where studies have shown that younger children may have slightly worse effects going earlier or being limited to one specific type of boarding school situation that may not be able to truly capture what a totally different boarding environment would be like. there's also limitations in whether or not some of the issues of boarding nowadays (such as not being able to contact parents or feeling like you can't leave the situation/you're stuck there) are truly as significant when compared to nonboarders with today's technology (easy ability to contact parents at any time, nonboarders also being followed home with bad school situations due to social media/unable to disconnect). the research is limited there.

so, what is boils down to--listen i do think that boarding school definitely has negatives & can be harmful. whether or not we can expect a nonabusive (or fictional, and therefore most likely nonabusive) boarding schools to cause as many or as signficant of those kinds of issues is genuinely up in the air and not settled by any means & the sweeping assertations of boarding school syndrome and it's purported ill effects aren't necessarily super backed up by evidence at this time, a lot of it is conjecture and hypotheses. doesn't mean it's untrue, but it's also attributing to boarding schools things that very well could have been caused by other negative abusive practices, or physical, sexual, or emotional abuse. the correlation is there, but you can't significantly attribute causation when there are other significant confounding factors. we really haven't been able to answer that in the absence of those things if boarding school will really ruin your attachment forever and give you psychological problems as compared to regular schooling.

because idk. as i was perusing through this topic, i found there were several assertions that i felt had a lot of unanswered questions as far as possible causation:

claims as far as sending your children away to boarding school ruins attachment: how do we know this? do we know that these kids were previously securely attachment and their attachment style changed upon being sent to boarding school? you can't know unless you somehow manage to measure attachment before and after to show that it truly damages it. you'd also have to account for other possible factors--was their bullying or some form of abuse. can you prove it was the school itself vs the harms there. can you compare this to a non abusive boarding school environment and see if attachment still gets altered as a result. is the change in attachment different from traditional schooling if abuses occur there as well?

speaking of attachment, is there at all a correlation of nonsecurity prior to attendance--are non secure adult parents more likely to send their non secure children to boarding school than secure ones? is there at all a difference in child outcome based on whether they are prior securely attached children or not. you can't know that a child was securely attached based only on if they liked their parents or not--and also, the relationship souring as a result doesn't necessarily mean that attachment has changes. does previous security provide a protective effect against possible harms from parental separation. does nonsecurity even before attendance at school contribute to the negative outcomes from the separation at all.

idk. i feel like there's definite evidenence of negatives but also, as with parenting science in general the evidence is not so wholly negative it becomes a situation where there is a definitive right or wrong answer. as with all things there are pros and cons that must be weighed for individual situations.

[whyyougottadothatbro]

Butterflies

In honor of Channie’s 12 years worth of hard work and the amazing artist and human that he is, here is a little drabble (that ended up being not so little) for the rightfully acclaimed Mr. Steal Your Girl. hope you like it~

wc: 1.2k

For the 2 chronically sleep deprived gremlins you and Chan were, it really hadn’t taken long for you to become each other’s human melatonin sources. Apart from the fact that no one could actually fix your sleep patterns given that you’d lost track of those long ago, the comfort that came along with the other’s presence was usually more than enough to knock you both out within 15 minutes, record time if you believed Changbin for that one time Chan hadn’t slept proper in 4 days and was snoring his exhaustion away after 10 minutes of cuddling you on the infamous leather couch. Which could explain your current situation, sitting atop your kitchen counter at god knows which hour, but it was certainly past midnight. You know better than to check the time, for it surely will stress you out to see the hours left till you eventually need to start getting ready for work, just hoping the night’s silence can calm you down enough for sleep to take over your body. Chan obviously hadn’t been home yet, he was working on the ‘butterflies’ demo after you had mentioned it in a not so deliberately placed comment about how you’d love to hear the full song. You’d definetly not been able to predict the outcome that was him spending the night till sunrise at the studio trying to finish the song or atleast a complete draft. Not checking the time had also meant for you to not see your phone, which was why you’d missed the text dear boyfriend had sent you half an hour ago, saying he'd be home in a bit.

The sound of the door keypad unlocking meant your boyfriend was finally home, exhausted out of his mind and looking forward to absolutely nothing other than dropping his stuff onto the couch and find you curled up in your bed, to dive under the covers and pull you flush against him to let sleep overtake his body too. What he hadn’t expected was to see you sitting on the kitchen counter, legs crossed as you sip on something from your mug of the cringy but awfully cute couple mug set you owned. He grabs himself a bottle of water from the fridge, unscrewing the cap as he wordlessly makes his way towards you, your legs detangling to hang off the countertop and make space for him to stand in between them, both of you silently sipping on your beverages till you finish yours and wrap your arms around his torso, probably looking like a lovesick puppy but you couldn’t really help it.

“Welcome home, Roo”

“Glad to be back princess, couldn’t sleep again hm?”

You silently nod against his shoulder, crossing your legs behind his, gesture enough to answer a question that had been rhetorical in the first place.

“Which tea was it? Lavender?” he asks as he pulls you closer to him by his gentle hold on your thighs, flush against him. You’d realized eventually that you could never physically be close enough to him, you could always be latched onto him like a koala and still want to be closer, to take in more of his vanilla scent and the faded fragrance of his cologne, just to bask in his existence on a whole.

Subconsciously enough you’d started nuzzling your nose against his neck, pulling him even closer with all your limbs, till his squeaky laugh had pulled you out of your little trance, as your arms loosen enough to let him breathe freely again.

“Could you tell I missed you today?” you look up at him, arms still lazily resting around him.

“Oh, I really couldn’t tell little one, I’m glad you told me. I thought you didn’t miss me at all love.” He spoke with all seriousness as he looked at you curling up against him again, eyes fond as he lets out another chuckle.

“Good. You should know your presence is extremely appreciated at all times” Chris swears he lives for the mumbling mess you become when its past 3 am and you finally get him to yourself because this, nothing in the world could beat this.

“Anyways, now that I presume you’re done talking like an executive, let’s get you to bed, shall we?” he’d already wrapped your legs around his body tight enough, waiting for your approval to take you up and away, when the whiny ‘no’ that escapes your mouth halts his actions.

“Why baby? What’s wrong?”

“thecounteriscoldanditfeelsreallynice”

“come again baby?” he’d clearly heard and understood you but would it really be him if he doesn’t tease you for your antics?

“You heard me I know” you mumbled against his chest again, shoving your face into it like one of those Felix posters he saw at the concert and smushed his face against his friend’s chest in a similar manner.

“Baby it is really late, you need to go sleep hm?”

“You don’t get to say that, you came home late too…”

“I don’t have to be up again for work in almost 3 hours now do I?”

“True. Fine, you win this time”

“Of course I do, now come on, let’s get this koala some sleep should we?” he finally lifts you off the counter, keeping you secure in his hold as all you find yourself capable of doing is nodding against him. He carries you to your bed, clearly showing signs of the tossing and turning he presumed to have happened earlier from the lack of sleep as he lays you down and tucks you in. Your eyes are barely open but you register the lack of warmth immediately, reaching out to make grabby hands as he strips himself of the minimal clothing he had on in the first place, muscle tee and basketball shorts. His eyes crinkle up again, voice serenading as ever, “let me change pretty, I promise I’ll be there in a minute yeah?”. Your hands slump down onto the duvet in defeat as you turn to face his side, patiently awaiting him as he finally slips under the covers. You presume your rightful position with your head against his naked chest, left leg sprawled against him as he hikes it up a little higher, arms wrapped around him as he justifies his title of your personal melatonin, sleep finding you almost immediately.

“I love you so much and you’re the best thing that happened to me and I love you, goodnight” Chan was now an expert when it came to comprehending your sleepy mumbles, and they all warmed his heart up in the best ways possible. He silently presses his cheek against the top of your head, dropping a few kisses against your crown as he feels you returning those with kisses against his chest in your sleepy state, and he suddenly can’t feel any of the day’s exhaustion anymore but only your tender love that surrounds him and wraps him up in a cocoon of warmth and safety. His adrenaline from working hadn’t really worn off yet, so he resorts to humming the melody he was working on earlier, noting it down in his head to show you the finished product later.

Baby you got me feeling butterflies..

 a/n : CHAN PLEASE RELEASE THAT TRACK I BEG YOU I’M LITERALLY AHBDKNKKNKNKJNDDSKDKF

here’s the track for anyone wondering... 

[prettyboykatsuki]

ari other than obviously trusting & communicating with your partner do you have any nuggets of info to look out for or thoughts specifically wrt subspace and/or aftercare in bdsm—receiving or giving?

no pressure. im doing my actual due dilligence research its just some of these sites n sources sound hella clinical and robotic and ur an actual living breathing approachable sex-positive person in comparison so i thought to ask.

hello!! i want to start by saying im deeply underqualified for such an ask. i do play and have some experience but it is minimal imo given the fact i have 1. a long term partner and 2. have had like 3-4 subs in my life to play w otherwise + im very young. im not a professional so take my words as anecdotal / personal

but on an individual level im told im a good partner so here my person to person advice / things i do for aftercare to check in on people im having sex with

the cop-out answer is that every person is different and learning to gauge your partners needs is a matter of practice and patience. not everyone needs the same thing and that's alright. it's also something u should talk about before a scene!!!

this is a given but worth mentioning but the first step is always stopping any stimulation. turning off toys, untying your partner, taking out gags - things of that nature. changing the sensation slowly is important imo. after that check on any injury and see what level of care it needs. attend to these physical, immediate needs first.

now that that is taken care of this is my more personal thing

for me usually, there's a ten minute period of me simply talking my partner down from subspace. sometimes that's praise, sometimes it's idle talk and that depends on the person. but slowly letting someone down, assuring them that they're okay and you're with them. it's more about grounding really? the intensity of a scene can be jarring even it doesn't seem that way so for me this is like... a requirement. this includes some physical touch depending on who im with!! but i usually save that for the end. like post shower and shit

sensation check-ins come after. im a sadomasochist so in a lot of cases there is a fair amount of pain involved. i like to sit my partner down on the bed and sort of run my clean hands on an injury. i don't ask for pain scale on one to ten. i prefer to ask if they still feel mobile, if the pressure i put on the area is dull or sharp, how numb they are etc. this is smth you get better at slowly and u adjust to accordingly. if there's any injuries, i take note of them and care for them in the shower

basic hydration and sustenance. this one is important to me personally for a lot of reasons but you'll see it basically in every single bdsm aftercare advice things. normally i help my partner get down a bottle of gatorade and give them a protein bar. if someone is my established partner i basically always cook for them after we have like. sex sex djksdk but you don't always have to do all that lol. just make sure those basic needs are met for BOTH OF YOU!!!!! something light is fine just no empty stomachs it will lowk make u loopy and irritable

showering / cleaning up together!! wiping them down a warm towel, getting in the shower together stuff like that. i like having a little fun skincare routine if it was a super intense scene. but i think the act of helping your partner w that is always really nice and helps establish intimacy. i normally tend to wounds and such here.

as the domme aftercare for me is usually a lot of physical touch and being told my partner enjoyed what i did to them. it's also necessary for me to be able to dote on them in some way. it's hard to explain but being able to service my partner in an intimate nonsexual way is suuuuper necessary so i don't drop. i also love to be kissed.... some soft making out yk

it seems counterintuitive but it makes me a little anxious to not be able to do those things. helping w basic care and things like that are really important to me and someone letting me do that for me is also very important to me. i also like being able to stim afterwards w a chewy and zone out while my partners hangs out in my arms and we have like parallel play time.

i have different routines w every person ive ever been with but these are some of the more basic universals. again everyone is different. how intensive aftercare depends on how intensive a scene but i normally hit these four every time, just more or less in depth depending. i hope this helps you in some way!!!

[vergess]

Oh YOU'RE the one who put all these white monolinguals in my inbox.

So, first of all, I am in fact the disabled ESL speaker you people keep using as your hypothetical. I've got the whole package baby: non fluent parents, didn't start English until school, had a physical speech disability, had several learning disabilities, the whole nine yards. Not that any of that was relevant to the post.

So you can, politely, take your conscientiousness reminder about my existence, and shove it firmly into a garage. I'm good. I'm capable of remembering I exist, thanks.

Secondly, if you were paying attention to this discussion about how adults under 30 have been FAILED BY. THE. EDUCATIONAL. SYSTEM. You might then be able to extrapolate that this system is failing other English language learners too!

But okay, let's say your concern is genuine, which is VERY hard to believe after the day you, personally have put me through with your white knighting about fluency:

The same solutions work for disfluencies from lack of familiarity with the spoken language too! Wow!

It's almost like ALL OF THE SOLUTIONS PRESENTED HEREIN WOULD LIKEWISE SOLVE THE PROBLEMS YOU RAISED

ALMOST AS THOUGH

bear with me here

ALMOST AS THOUGH A DISABLED IMMIGRANT WROTE THE FUCKING POST WITH FIRST HAND FUCKING EXPERIENCE TO BACK IT'S FUCKING RESEARCH

As for the fucking questions, not that I feel inclined to give you a goddamn answer at this point:

Do these US literacy statistics account for ability to read and write in any language, or just American English?

No. The statistics are based on school child and adult testing. ESL students are usually part of the main student body among children, and in separate schools entirely among adults, thus they are not readily identifiable in the data.

the states with the lowest literacy appeared to be, areas with high concentrations of immigrants from non-English-speaking countries

No state in the US is actually at a reasonable literacy level, so I'm not sure why some being worse is of note to you, but the correlations as they exist are stronger with population density than other factors, as is often the case with any map based visual.

would literacy not be improved by accommodating that section of the population instead of calling them blanket illiterate?

Yeah, no shit it would. That's why all the fucking solutions presented are equally useable for learning English as a second language.

Or do you mean we should have a more multilingual society in the US, because obviously I fucking agree, but that's not really relevant to a post about how CHILDHOOD EDUCATION HAS FAILED AN ENTIRE GENERATION OF PEOPLE.

So 55% of that actually represents >10% of all US adults. Not that this isn't still a lot, but it's far less eye-catching than "55%."

Did ya… look at the source you claim you are correcting, mate?

Did you?

Did you look at the source data that can be filtered to show all ages, which puts national literacy at 46% across age groups, which you may recognize as 54% illiteracy?

54% or all US adults across all age groups, worse for the youngest and eldest, with the best literacy being middle aged people?

Or did you just see the 55% for my age group, and go haring off without checking anything you said?

May I ask why that age range is the one you chose to focus on, op?

I AM THAT AGE.

I know you want this to be a case of "boomer yelling at kids for nothing" but it's my LITERAL OWN LIFE as backed by the FINEST STATISTICAL DATA ON THE SUBJECT ON ALL OF THE PLANET EARTH.

This data extends back decades. It is collected for the UN.

Do you genuinely believe your back of the napkin math based on literally not even looking at the source data makes you a better statistician than everyone who studies this field professionally and has for decades?

You literally just made up a bunch of crap, and you want me to believe you're asking any of these questions in good faith?

Quick question, genuine question:

Why on earth does "more than half of US adults under 30 cannot read above an elementary school level" not strike horror into the heart of everyone who hears it?

Are the implications of it unclear????

I'm serious, people keep reacting with a sort of vague dismissal when I point this out, and I want to know why!

If adults in the US cannot read, then the only information they have access to is TV and video, the spaces with the most egregious and horrific misinformation!

If they cannot read, they cannot escape that misinformation.

This obscene lack of literacy should strike fear into every heart! US TV is notoriously horrific propaganda!

Is that???? Not??? Obvious???????

I know this sounds sarcastic, I know it does, but I'm completely serious here. I do not understand where the disconnect is.

[blackswanmedia1]

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[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

Newsflash: Dazai cares for Chuuya

Before reading any further, I will be talking about stormbringer, so spoilers ahead!! Translation credits go out to: @popopretty on tumblr, make sure to give this kind human some love and appreciation<3

Also if you want to read the first few chapters of stormbringer: @buraihatranslations is currently translating it, give them much love and appreciation as well, they deserve it!!

Honestly, I have been so obsessed with Soukoku lately and I think the reason behind this is because when it comes to Soukoku, their feelings for each other are not as easy to grasp as love or hate, it is much more profound than that. There is care, hurt, trust, resentment, companionship, bitterness, and consideration...And ironically enough, thats just the tip of the iceberg.

If we break down their individual feelings towards each other, it will be easier to understand their bond.

On Chuuya's end, his feelings are much more clear due to his expressive personality. He wears his emotions on his sleeves, he can try and hide what he feels towards Dazai but his true feelings tend to unravel easily.

He sometimes tries to mask his feelings towards Dazai by throwing insults, but his facial expressions are enough to contradict what he is saying.

Chuuya's feelings towards Dazai can be easier to comprehend. He obviously feels this certain betrayal due to the fact Dazai left the Port Mafia. Not to mention, he and Dazai have always had a rivalry relationship.

In the Soukoku wiki page, it is stated that Chuuya is aware of Dazai not experiencing a proper childhood, therefore allows him to act as childish as he can and lets him tease him relentlessly. I don't know how reliable this source is, but either way I think its worthy enough to add.

In the Dragon head conflict when Dazai was out of sight, Chuuya told Mori to forget about Dazai. That was until Hirotsu mentioned a microscope, Chuuya quickly realizes it was code language because he remembered a previous conversation where Dazai says he needs a microscope to be able to see Chuuya properly.

The moment he figured out it was a tracker, Chuuya did not hesitate to jump in and rescue Dazai. But here is the catch: No one but Chuuya knew about the microscope, if Chuuya really didn't care for Dazai he wouldn't have mentioned the microscope and kept all this under wraps, leaving Dazai in a mess.

Chuuya trusts Dazai with his life. He never hesitates to leave his life on Dazai's hands when it has to come to it. Chuuya and Dazai have known each other for years, for Chuuya to be able to trust Dazai that much is because Dazai also cares for him too, right?

The answer here is yes, Dazai cares for Chuuya. In a superficial level, it doesn't seem like Dazai truly cares, but I can assure you that he does care for him. Weather you like to think of his care in a platonic or romantic manner, the care Dazai has for Chuuya is undeniable and extremely significant for Dazai's character.

I think that stormbringer establishes this idea even further. There is one specific moment in this light novel that shows his genuine concern towards Chuuya's well being:

"There is one problem." Dazai cut off his sentence hesitantly. "It has nothing to do with the sucess rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... It may require some time to decide."

"What's with you?" Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. "Stop dramatizing it. Just hurry up and say it."

"I said earlier about this control spell to open the 'gate' that is used to reset the command inside Chuuya, right?" Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. "If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will be erased. That means...even if the memory erasure was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well."

"What?"

"I told you before right, the memory erasure command. The only way we can confirm if Chuuya is human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means..." Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. "If we use that control spell, the method to confirm if Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good."

The time had stopped.

Chuuya opened his eyes and looked towards Dazai but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.

"Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not." Dazai looked at his pocket watch, gave it a glance and continued. "I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order for my men to wait... You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess its hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around."

Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked down the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.

Dazai fixated in his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn't afford more than that.

Inside Dazai's head, he was planning a procedure to swith to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.

This section in stormbringer is personally one of my favorites, this is a very rare moment between both of them, but especially for Dazai. Like I stated earlier Chuuya wears his emotions on his sleeves, therefore even if he tries to mask his care with insults, its still painfully noticable that he genuienly looks after Dazai. Chuuya also sometimes show a vulnerable side of himself to Dazai, especially after using corruption.

Dazai on the other hand is extremely unreadable. Its hard to understand his true intentions and if he really cares for people or only sees them as a pawn. In this moment though, Dazai was being painfully genuine. Dazai literally prioritized Chuuya over the mission. He was already thinking of coming up with an alternative plan just in case Chuuya refused, obviously the sucess rate of the alternative plan would be lesser than the actual plan Dazai had in mind, he choose Chuuya's wellbeing over a mission.

In this section, Dazai wasn't throwing jokes or witty remarks, he was being serious. Because Dazai knows how desperately Chuuya wants to be human. He knows how important being human is to Chuuya.

Dazai wasn't manipulating Chuuya by giving him the chance to decide, we can see that Dazai was literally showing a lot of hesitation when mentioning this to him, we also get to see what Dazai was thinking, and we can tell he wasn't thinking about manipulative his movements in any way. All of this wasn't coming out of manipulation, it was coming out of pure care.

After six steps, Dazai reached the stair. He stepped on the stair and started walking down. Three steps down the stair, he heard a *clang*, a cool sound of metal echoing behind him. It sounded like the metal was kicked by the sole of someones shoes. The moment Dazai realized what the sound was, Dazai turned around in surprise.

There was already no one at the top.

Dazai was dazed for a moment, then he loosened his lips and laughed.

"Trying to act cool, huh?" Dazai smiled, both annoyed and relieved. Then he turned on his radio and sent out his order. "Chuuya has sallied, everyone get ready for battle."

I personally love this part so much, relief washed over Dazai the moment he noticed that Chuuya was going to go through with the first plan, which proves my point that he wasn't manipulating him and how Dazai was under a lot of stress because he wasn't sure if the alternative plan would be as effective as his original one.

Yet he still was willing to go through the alternative plan if Chuuya refused, because Dazai values him and regards his wellbeing.

Dazai was being surprisingly gentle in this section, he was being honest. There was no ulterior motive behind his actions here, just a boy looking after his partner.

"So i'm going to send an order to my men to prepare for action... Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay." Chuuya turned to Dazai. "Why are you asking me such a thing?"

Dazai didn't answer right away.

That was an unusual expression. It's like he was trying to say something, but he had to arrange the words in his head to decide where he should start. An expression he rarely shows.

This was right before Dazai drops the bomb to Chuuya about the memory erasure command. He was even asking for Chuuya's opinion on sending his men to get ready, this was the first time Dazai ever showed actual concern without masking it with witty remarks. You can tell that Chuuya isn't used to this.

And when you think about it, when Dazai and Chuuya have missions together, Dazai always uses corruption as a last resort and he always allows Chuuya to make the decision if they will be using it or not.

I personally belive that the main reason Chuuya trusts Dazai with using corruption is because The Sheep used to exploit his powers too much, but Dazai leaves the decision to use corruption up to Chuuya. Dazai understands the physical and mental toll corruption takes on Chuuya and therefore leaves the choice up to him.

Theres another section in stormbringer that I really enjoy, it doesn't necessairly show solicitude but I still think this should still be taken into consideration:

"You seem pretty confident that Chuuya is human, don't you?"

"I am," Dazai laughed with a sigh. "There is no way a man-made code could create such a personality that I detest so much."

Throughout the whole story, Dazai is more than determined that Chuuya is human. The main reason Dazai finds Chuuya so intresting is because of how frighteningly human Chuuya can be, because of the fact that he always wears his emotions on his sleeves, something Dazai rarely does himself. Thats personally a nice sentiment from Dazai's end, even when Chuuya struggles completely when it comes to believing in his own humanity, Dazai still can't help but see him as a human being.

Also I am aware that Dazai literally said he detests Chuuya here but he also sighed and laughed while stating this, showing us that he isn't being serious about hating him.

And its not only in stormbringer were he shows his concern towards Chuuya. In fact, in this following manga pannel Dazai is telling Chuuya that if he is willing to listen him, he will stage his own escape so that Chuuya doesn't get punnished.

Honestly, if Dazai didn't care enough for Chuuya, he wouldn't have mentioned this to him. Chuuya didn't care enough to realize that he literally unwillingly freed Dazai which would get the pm mad at him, so the fact that Dazai is literally helping him out is no doubt out of care for him. If Dazai didn't have any regard for Chuuya he would've not staged his escape or mentioned anything to Chuuya, eventually incriminating him.

There are many misconceptions when it comes to Dazai's feelings towards Chuuya, people think that he doesn't care for him due to the fact that he left the Port Mafia, leaving Chuuya behind. But heres the thing: Dazai's intentions had nothing to do with Chuuya. He left the organization for his own good, he left it to fullfill Oda's wish.

"If Dazai cared for Chuuya then why didn't he take Chuuya with him?" the reason is simple, he knows how much the PM means to Chuuya. In stormbringer it is shown that Chuuya feels as if his humanity is attached to the people he is loyal to, in this case its the port mafia. Verlaine wanted to get rid of the pm because he believed that the pm is what kept Chuuya's humanity, eventually making Chuuya believe that he is only human if he stays loyal to the pm. Dazai knows this. Thats exactly why he didn't take Chuuya with him or even explains to Chuuya why he left, he knows it would be selfish to basically rip Chuuya's sense of humanity apart.

I have a feeling that if Dazai told Chuuya about the real reason he left the Port Mafia, Chuuya will not only feel conflicted about being in the pm, but he would also have an inner conflict with himself as a human.

People also think Dazai may not really care for him because of the fact that after the fight against Lovecraft he actualy deserted him, maybe that part was truly just supposed to be seen as simple humor, but either way I want to talk about it. Chuuya's only request to Dazai was to take him back to base safe, so why did Dazai leave Chuuya behind?

I mean he has carried Chuuya back to saftey before with no problem, for example in stormbringer when Chuuya uses corruption for the first time Dazai carries him back to the billiards bar and not to the mafia’s base so that he could say goodbye to his passing friends.

The reson behind this is because Mori needs to know that unlike Dazai, Chuuya is absolutely loyal to him. Leaving Chuuya the way he did will make Mori believe that these two really are at each others throats and that Dazai is insignificant to Chuuya. Making it seem that for Chuuya, the mafia comes first before anything else.

Therefore Dazai established Chuuya's saftey within the mafia since not only does Mori want these two to be hostile with each other, he doesn't want Chuuya to eventually turn against him if he truly found out more about Dazai's true reason of departure. Then again, this isn't canon but it is a logical assumption.

Not to mention that although Dazai did leave him behind, he folded Chuuya's coat and hat before taking his leave. There is also an an extra chapter where Ozaki Kouyou was talking with Chuuya but when he left he forgot his coat, which made Kouyou came across the coat; where she noticed a badge sewed inside saying "Name: Hatrack", she smiled fondly thinking to herself that some things just never change, in this case, Dazai and Chuuya's bond.

Dazai literally took his time to sew this into his coat just to tease him, it was a simple gesture but it shows us how their dynamic will never change. No matter what these two go through, they will always share a bond that consists on teasing, trust and underlying care.

All of this actually makes that theory of Dazai planting a bomb under Chuuya's car for the sole reason that the PM doesn't find Chuuya as an acomplice who aided Dazai on his escape much more feasable.

For Dazai to just plant a bomb under Chuuya's car with no motive makes no sense because if Dazai's true intentions were to simply mess with Chuuya, he would've most likely made it clear at that time. Dazai always has an underlying motive behind his actions, and in this case it is very likely that he did that for Chuuya's sake.

Don't get me wrong, I am aware that the bomb incident could've just been a comedic moment and I shouldn't look too much into it, but there is still a posibility, right?

These two hold so much trust and care for one another, yet they also hold a lot of bitterness and resentment. In the end the good aspects of their dynamic outweighs the bad.

Either you see these two in a platonic or romantic way, you can't tell me that their bond isn't significant.

Thank you so much for reading!! I wanted to talk about this for a while because I feel like people misinterpret Dazai's feelings towards Chuuya a lot so I hope this clears up things a bit<3

[tlbodine]

A Lesson in Critical Thinking

It occurs to me that not everybody got particularly robust education (read: any) in how to think critically or apply problem-solving and data collection methods to day-to-day matters they may encounter in their lives. And while I'm no expert in this by any means, I do think I can shed some light on a thing or two.

Let's Say I Have an Observation

It could be anything, from a "fact" someone shared to a pattern I notice in the world -- what matters is it's something I want to verify. For a lighthearted example: I run a discord server, and three members whom I think most of us in the community would consider "cool peeps with their shit together" are polyamorous.

Faced with that observation, one might be tempted to make the claim, "Poly people have their shit together more than the rest of us." And you could even come up with some compelling rationalizations for that, such as, "the poly lifestyle requires so much more communication that people who live it also have better people skills" or hell, even, "living with multiple partners is the ideal state of being, and if we all did that we'd be happier and better-adjusted, too."

And, hey, maybe those things are true! But before we go about spreading that message, maybe we should take a step back and confirm it a bit, hmm?

Checking for Biases

The first thing I'll want to do is think about my claim and validate whether it really feels true and fits within what I generally know about the world:

Are those three people really as "with it" as they seem to be? Am I cherry-picking my evidence to support my conclusion?

Did I see that two people fit the pattern and so lumped in the third polyamorous user with them just to make my argument more compelling?

Might I have a vested interest in wanting this to be true? Does anything about me/my identity hinge on this worldview being correct?

it's important to be honest with yourself at this stage. Confirmation bias is something we can all fall into, and it doesn't make you a bad person -- but it DOES make your data unreliable!

Searching for More Cases

If the claim "polyamorous people are better communicators and more likely to have their shit together" is true, then we should be able to find more examples of it in the wild! Perhaps we should validate our claim by collecting some more data:

Can we survey a population -- say, a polyamory community online -- and capture some raw data? Could we come up with some kind of questionnaire that evaluates the "has-it-together-ness" of a person?

Can we even just informally ask around for other people's experiences? Anecdotes aren't data, but they can help you take a temperature of whether something might be worth investigating further.

Do we have any other experiences we can draw from that might help us validate the claim? Do we have counter-examples in mind who are polyamorous and *don't* have their shit together?

Has anybody ELSE noticed this phenomenon before? Are there studies about it? If so, do they seem well-done? Are the sources credible? (Evaluating a source is a whole other thing and a matter for another guide)

Obviously, a survey is the most scientifically rigorous option -- but you don't have to do a full-on study to validate every single thought and suspicion you have! Sometimes you discover a satisfactory explanation that somebody else has come up with. That's still better than running around espousing a claim you just made up or heard on the street without any further validation!

Eliminating Variables

Okay, so let's say you've acquired some data -- either scientifically collected or informally gathered. And let's say that data does indeed agree with our suspicion! From the results of our hypothetical survey, perhaps we've determined that polyamorous people are indeed more likely to have their shit together (by whatever metric we're judging that against).

Let's see if we can poke some holes in that.

Is there anything else that the people you surveyed have in common that might affect things? For example, if everybody happens to have a stable polycule, could it be that relationship stability is the real factor (as opposed to the number of partners?)

Is where you're finding these people affecting the results? Are people who are in certain types of communities more likely to respond in certain ways? How big was the sample size?

There's a reason why scientific studies eliminate variables, have control groups, and utilize a double-blind method!

The point of all of this is not to make any claims about polyamorous people, and it's not to tell you that you need to complete a scientific study to every thought that pops into your head. The point is to give you a framework for thinking critically about claims and observations. Mentally running through this process ("is my data accurate? am I biased? how could I validate this information? what other explanations might make sense?") might take just a few minutes once you've practiced it, and it can save you from falling for fake news, dangerous pseudoscience, propaganda, and so forth.

Now go out there and think critically!

[acespoliticalwaffles]

"Mass stabbings". Like, with 5+ people dead, 10+ injured. That's what I meant. You don't see those. At least not nearly as often as mass shootings.

"you cant seriously say that taking away guns would have stopped any of those killings." Right, of course. Because you can kill people just as many people with a knife just as easily as with an AR-15. Dude, the easier it is to do something, the more people will do it. And even if people still wanted to do mass killings when they couldn't get a gun, they would not only be stopped much easier, but their victims would be less likely to die, because knives are less deadly than semi-automatics.

Also, yes, places with gun control have less gun violence, and certainly less mass shootings. But I'm too lazy/done with you to find a source. Which I think is fair since you didn't give one either.

I'm not for taking away all guns, in fact I think most people aren't. I think that: 1, you should need a liscence to get a gun, 2, the process for getting a liscence should involve a background check so people who've been convicted of violent crimes can't get guns, and 3, civilians should not be able to own military-grade killing machines (I mean, I'd prefer they didn't exist at all, but obviously that's a different conversation and possibly not feasible idk). Guns as self defense I'm fine with. But you don't need an assault rifle to defend yourself. That goes way beyond what's necessary to defend yourself in most situations. Like, unless you're being attacked by 20 guys with guns, you really don't need that.

Anyway, I knew this was a bad idea. I always end up getting stuck in these conversations cause I don't expect them to respond for some reason. If I don't respond to your response, it's probably cause I'm done with you. But go ahead and have the last word. I know I always feel a need to do that.

“Alcohol doesn’t kill people in drunk driving accidents—it’s the people who do the killing. It’s our Constitutional right to bear Old Milwaukee.”

— the argument of every Right wing bastard on social media following a mass shooting

[douchebagbrainwaves]

APPARENTLY OUR SITUATION WAS NOT UNUSUAL

Enjoy it while it lasts, and get as much done as you can, because you haven't hired any bureaucrats yet. Sites of this type will get their attention. The fact that there's no conventional number. Don't fix Windows, because the remaining. And what drives them both is the number of new shares to the angel; if there were 1000 shares before the deal, this means 200 additional shares. This is not as selfish as it sounds. For the average startup fails. It spread from Fortran into Algol and then to depend on it happening. Seeing the system in use by real users—people they don't know—gives them lots of new ideas is practically virgin territory.

Auto-retrieving spam filters would make the legislator who introduced the bill famous. When someone's working on a problem where their success can be measured, you win. I was a Reddit user when the opposite happened there, and sitting in a cafe feels different from working. However, the easiest and cheapest way for them to do it gets you halfway there. No one uses pen as a verb in spoken English. We'd ask why we even hear about new languages like Perl and Python, the claim of the Python hackers seems to be as big as possible wants to attract everyone. Conditionals. Poetry is as much music as text, so you start to doubt yourself. Between them, these two facts are literally a recipe for exponential growth. In languages, as in any really bold undertaking, merely deciding to do it. I fly over the Valley: somehow you can sense something is going on.

It's easy to be drawn into imitating flaws, because they're trying to ignore you out of existence. Google. Long words for the first time should be the ideas expressed there. If a link is just an empty rant, editors will sometimes kill it even if it's on topic in the sense of beating the system, not breaking into computers. As long as you're at a point in your life when you can bear the risk of failure. I'm less American than I seem. The distinction between expressions and statements. So perhaps the best solution is to add a few more checks on public companies. Let me repeat that recipe: finding the problem intolerable and feeling it must be true that only 1.

Well, I said a good rule of thumb was to stay upwind—to work on a Python project than you could to work on a problem that seems too big, I always ask: is there some way to bite off some subset of the problem. A company that needed to build a factory or hire 50 people obviously needed to raise a large round and risk losing the investors you already have if you can't raise the full amount. And isn't popularity to some extent its own justification? I realize I might seem to be any less committed to the business. Surely that's mere prudence? The measurement of performance will tend to push even the organizations issuing credentials into line. Number 6 is starting to have a piratical gleam in their eye. About a year after we started Y Combinator that the most important skills founders need to learn. When the company goes public, the SEC will carefully study all prior issuances of stock by the company and demand that it take immediate action to cure any past violations of securities laws. Within a few decades old, and rapidly evolving. I didn't say so, but I'm British by birth. Investors tend to resist committing except to the extent you can.

I'm talking to companies we fund? But if we can decide in 20 minutes, should it take anyone longer than a couple days when he presented to investors at Demo Day, the more demanding the application, the more demanding the application, the more extroverted of the two founders did most of the holes are. We funded them because we liked the founders so much. And such random factors will increasingly be able to brag that he was an investor. You'd feel like an idiot using pen instead of write in a different language than they'd use if they were expressed that way. The safest plan for him personally is to stick close to the margin of failure, and the time preparing for it beforehand and thinking about it afterward. The theory is that minor forms of bad behavior encourage worse ones: that a neighborhood with lots of graffiti and broken windows becomes one where robberies occur. S s: n. Bootstrapping Consulting Some would-be founders may by now be thinking, why deal with investors at all, it means you don't need them.

It's not just that you can't judge ideas till you're an expert in a field. And the way to do it gets you halfway there. Angels who only invest occasionally may not themselves know what terms they want. But the raison d'etre of all these institutions has been the same kind of aberration, just spread over a longer period. If someone pays $20,000 from their friend's rich uncle, who they give 5% of the company they take is artificially low. But because seed firms operate in an earlier phase, they need to spend a lot on marketing, or build some kind of announcer. There are millions of small businesses in America, but only a little; they were both meeting someone they had a lot in common with. We present to him what has to be treated as a threat to a company's survival. S i; return s;; This falls short of the spec because it only works for integers. He said their business model was crap.

I was a philosophy major. Programs often have to work actively to prevent your company growing into a weed tree, dependent on this source of easy but low-margin money. And I was a philosophy major. This leads to the phenomenon known in the Valley is watching them. I definitely didn't prefer it when the grass was long after a week of rain. As many people have noted, one of the questions we pay most attention to when judging applications. I'd like to reply with another question: why do people think it's hard to predict, till you try, how long it will take to become profitable. Raising money is the better choice, because new technology is usually more valuable now than later. The purpose of the committee is presumably to ensure that is to create a successful company?

One recently told me that he did as a theoretical exercise—an effort to define a more convenient alternative to the Turing Machine. This is actually less common than it seems: many have to claim they thought of the idea after quitting because otherwise their former employer would own it. If you look at these languages in order, Java, and Visual Basic—it is not so frivolous as it sounds, however. VCs they have introductions to. VCs ask, just point out that you're inexperienced at fundraising—which is always a safe card to play—and you feel obliged to do the same for any firm you talk to. The lower your costs, the more demanding the application, the more important it is to sell something to you, the writer, the false impression that you're saying more than you have. What happens in that shower?

Thanks to Dan Bloomberg, Trevor Blackwell, Garry Tan, Nikhil Pandit, Reid Hoffman, Geoff Ralston, Slava Akhmechet, Paul Buchheit, Ben Horowitz, and Greg McAdoo for the lulz.

[robininthelabyrinth]

For your prompts: Mingjue is ace or demi, and somehow between taking over the sect at a very young age and never displaying interest in it, no one ever gave him The Sex Talk. All the aunts and uncles assumed someone else took care of it. Then Huaisang gets to that age. He seems to be very interested in sex. He needs The Sex Talk. Mingjue feels like that should come from him (he's taken care of all the rest pf raising him after all), but he doesn't have the info to do that.

How does Mingjue give him The Sex Talk? Or alternatively, does Huaisang end up already knowing and giving The Talk to his big brother instead?

ao3

“All right,” Nie Mingjue said, sitting down and gesturing for Nie Huaisang to sit down across from him. “I guess we’re going to have to talk about this.”

“I knew this day would come,” Nie Huaisang said, looking unbearably tragic. “I’m going to die of embarrassment before the day is through, da-ge. Won’t you have pity?”

Nie Mingjue knew him too well, though.

“Okay,” he said.

Nie Huaisang frowned at him.

“If it’s too embarrassing to talk about sex, you’re not ready to talk about sex,” Nie Mingjue said with a casual shrug. “We can postpone the conversation to –”

“No! I want to hear about it!” Nie Huaisang scowled at him. “Da-ge, everyone else got the sex talk! You wouldn’t want me to fall behind, would you?”

Nie Mingjue blinked innocently at him. “But Huaisang, you said…”

“Never mind what I said!”

Nie Mingjue tried to maintain his façade of innocent neutrality but quickly cracked in the face of Nie Huaisang’s exasperation; he started laughing.

Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“There’s not much to say,” Nie Mingjue said, wiping his eyes. “And it’s not as if you can’t get by without it, you know. I mean, no one ever gave me the talk.”

Nie Huaisang frowned. “No one? What about A-die? I mean, before…”

“He was busy, and kept postponing it,” Nie Mingjue said, shrugging. “And then he died, and everyone assumed he’d done it already. It’s fine. Everything I needed to learn, I learned from books, and you’re going to do the same.”

“…books.”

“Yep, books.”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “You’re going to make me learn this incredibly important subject from textbooks? Really, da-ge?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said.

“You’re robbing me of a valuable life experience here.”

“I’m so sad for you,” Nie Mingjue said dryly, pulling out a box and spreading out the books he’d obtained just for this purpose. “Now, I know you hate studying, I know you think it’s boring and a waste of time, but I really think in this instance –”

“It’s fine,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. His eyes were fixated on the books in front of him, and for some reason he’d flushed bright red, even though it wasn’t all that hot in the room. “I don’t mind. I’ll study hard, da-ge.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before once or twice,” Nie Mingjue remarked, then shook his head. “Anyway, I think just one or two –”

“I need all of them.”

Nie Mingjue blinked, sincerely this time. “All of them?” he said, and looked down at the books. “Huaisang, I don’t think you understand. I got a selection so that you could have your pick, but they’re by and large very repetitive; each one more or less describes the same basic acts –”

“I need all of them. For reasons.”

“…all right,” Nie Mingjue said, bemused but generally pleased by Nie Huaisang’s highly unusual enthusiasm for study. “I thought I was robbing you of a valuable life experience?”

“That was before! I didn’t realize the books were going to be spring books,” Nie Huaisang said. He’d grabbed one and flipped it open, staring wide-eyed at one of the illustrations.

“What type of textbook would there be for this subject other than a spring book?” Nie Mingjue asked, wondering – as ever – if he’d missed something. Raising children was hard, and raising Nie Huaisang was harder; everyone agreed. “Anyway, I’m given to understand that the art is a bit exaggerated, especially in terms of proportion, and the accompanying text can use some rather strange metaphors, but fundamentally the acts described appear generally consistent throughout the various sources. For example, if you look at this one, you can see that the woman has –”

“Yes, da-ge, I can see.”

“I’m just pointing it out,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. Nie Huaisang was being especially impossible to understand today. “Anyway, it’s all a bit weird, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Very weird. Incredibly weird. You know what, I think I need to think about this privately for a while.”

“I…are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

“If you insist.” Nie Mingjue stood up. “If you have any questions –”

“Yes I’ll be sure to ask you please leave now thank you good-bye.”

Nie Mingjue found himself outside the door to Nie Huaisang’s room, not entirely sure how his much smaller younger brother had managed to push him out so effectively. Maybe some of that saber training was actually having an impact, however spaced out and half-hearted Nie Huaisang’s efforts were.

Cheered by the thought, Nie Mingjue headed back to his office, feeling very good about himself: that wasn’t nearly as awkward as all the other people had made it sound. It’d been no problem at all!

Of course, a few months later, he found out that Nie Huaisang had started buying up spring books like he’d developed a mania for it.

“That seems fine,” he said to the disciple who’d reported it. “I mean, it’s a bit strange, yes, but he’s always been fond of hobbies that involve collecting things. Birds, weird rocks…that sort of thing.”

“I’m not sure it’s…exactly the same,” the disciple said carefully. “But if you’re not concerned, Sect Leader, we’ll just leave it be.”

“…I’ll talk with him,” Nie Mingjue decided, mostly because of the weird expression on the disciple’s face, and the disciple looked relieved.

Later that evening, he followed up on his word.

“Huaisang, I heard you’re buying spring books,” he said, and Nie Huaisang nearly choked on his soup.

“You can’t just bring that up over dinner!” he hissed.

“…why not?”

“You just – can’t!”

“I can, and did,” Nie Mingjue said. “Some of the disciples have expressed some concern about it.”

Nie Huaisang’s shoulders went up by his ears defensively. “Is it because I’m buying cutsleeve books as well as regular books?”

“They sell cutsleeve books? Really?” Nie Mingjue said blankly, temporarily distracted. “I wouldn’t have thought there’d be enough of a market to make the printing worthwhile. Aren't they supposed to be relatively uncommon? …anyway, no, it’s not about that.”

“…you don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?” Nie Mingjue said, puzzled. “I’m glad you’re expanding your horizons.”

“You…are?” Nie Huaisang was blinking rapidly.

“I mean, you’re reading? Reading is good. I’m always happy when you advance your scholarly pursuits,” Nie Mingjue said. “I mean, I’d still like it if you spent a bit more time on your saber…”

“Wait,” Nie Huaisang said hastily, clearly wanting to avoid the subject of his saber training. “If you don’t mind the fact that I’m buying them, or the content, what is the concern?”

“Mostly quantity, I think?” Nie Mingjue hadn’t been able to figure it out either. “You’ve exceeded your allowance twice already, and really, how many books recounting the same exact content can you really need?”

“It’s not quite the same content,” Nie Huaisang said. “There are different…scenarios.”

“Yes, but it all leads to the same place in the end, doesn’t it? Hand, mouth, front, back, inside or outside; you read one, you’ve read them all. Though I guess the cutsleeve ones are different?”

“Not really,” Nie Huaisang admitted. “But maybe take a look anyway? Maybe you’ll like those better…here, come up to my room.”

Nie Huaisang had, apparently, started in on making quite a collection, and from the way he puttered around trying to find the right ones to share, seemed to be in the process of becoming a little connoisseur. It was pretty adorable, actually; Nie Mingjue couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Nie Huaisang so enthusiastic.

“Having two spears involved does seem to make it a bit more awkward,” he concluded after paging through a few. “And obviously you can’t do it from the front in the same way, but other than that the mechanics generally seem the same. I suppose there’s really only so many ways you can twist the human body…”

“How about this one, then?” Nie Huaisang said, offering up a book about mirror grinders sharing a toy between them. “Twice the young ladies involved!”

“That seems even less efficient. If they wanted to be penetrated, why be a mirror grinder instead of finding a man?”

Nie Huaisang seemed somewhat taken aback by the question. “Maybe they just fell in love with another woman first?” he eventually suggested.

That seemed reasonable enough, so Nie Mingjue nodded agreeably. “Makes sense that they’d use a toy, then. Otherwise wouldn't they be stuck with using just mouths and hands? Though I suppose there’s always the eponymous grinding motion, too.”

Nie Huaisang reached over and put his hand in Nie Mingjue’s lap.

“Huaisang! What are you doing?”

“Just checking,” Nie Huaisang said, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re really not…Wait, let me find you some others. Maybe you’ll like these better – they have more scenario involved.”

Truly Nie Huaisang had a wide collection. There were solo stories, coupled stories, stories involved groups of three or more, stories involving people being tied up or doing the tying, one story involving whips and pinching nails that Nie Mingjue initially thought was a torture manual that had gotten mixed in by mistake except for how the receiving party seemed extremely enthusiastic about it. There was even one involving –

“Fish?”

“Tentacles.”

“People want to fuck fish?”

“It’s not – you know what, I don’t know, maybe they do,” Nie Huaisang said, throwing up his hands. “Octopi are a surprisingly popular subject along the coast, and some of the artwork from Dongying features it.”

“You have works from Dongying?” Nie Mingjue asked, impressed. It wasn’t every young man’s hobby that involved international commerce. “You’re really turning into a collector, Huaisang.”

“I’m not – it’s not –” Nie Huaisang grimaced. “You know what, maybe the disciples are right and I should cut down on purchasing so many.”

“Why? If you’re enjoying your new hobby –”

“There’s a difference between being known as the guy who has some good spring books and being known as the guy who collects spring books as a hobby. The latter just sounds pathetic.”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure about that.

“Well, it’s up to you,” he said, and started to get up to leave, only to have Nie Huaisang tug on his hand.

“Da-ge, I have a question.”

Nie Mingjue sat back down.

“Have you ever…?” Nie Huaisang nodded at the books.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose a bit at the thought. “It seems like more trouble than it’s worth, really.”

“What about…uh…” He gestured at one in particular. Nie Mingjue leaned over and checked; it was one of the ones featuring a single man touching himself. “Do you…?”

“Oh, sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “Every once in a while. Don't most people? But there’s rather a difference between doing that and having to get up close and personal with someone else’s genitals, isn’t there? We all wipe our own asses after we shit, but that doesn’t mean we do it for other people.” He gave Nie Huaisang a pointed look. “Present company excluded.”

“I was a baby, it doesn’t count,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him. “Never bring it up again.”

Nie Mingjue smirked at him.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes dramatically. “Da-ge, you’re hopeless. One day you’ll find someone you like enough to try it with!”

“Maybe,” Nie Mingjue said. “Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Uh, yes it does! You’re going to have kids, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Nie Mingjue said, hesitating a little. “Huaisang, you’re my heir.”

“I know that! I’m in line until you have kids of your own to inherit…why are you shaking your head?”

“You’re going to inherit after me,” Nie Mingjue said, as gently as he could. “I’m probably not going to have kids, but even if I did, I’d arrange it so that they’d be part of the branch family, not the main line. I want you to inherit.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were going wide.

No, it was too early to tell him about the saber spirits, Nie Mingjue thought to himself. About their family's horrible temper and his private suspicion that the temper and the qi deviations fed into each other; his conviction that Nie Huaisang would be a better sect leader than him, a better continuation for their line than him, and his determination to make sure that the next generation of Nie sect leaders didn't have to fear a shortened life the way he did. He’d tell him that later, sometime. Today was a good day, there was no point in spoiling it.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked instead. “I mean, you have such a wide variety here; don’t tell me you’re solely interested in cut-sleeves…?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “No, I like – everything.”

“Well, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “There should be no problem, then. If you end up with a woman, have some kids; if you end up with a man, take a concubine. Either way, you’ll get an heir.” He frowned. “Assuming you don’t mind –”

“No, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and he sounded incredibly long-suffering. “I think I’ll manage to have sex, somehow.”

“Well, I mean, if you’re thinking about actually going ahead and trying it out, that’s a whole different conversation we need to have, as opposed to the talk about what it is. You need to be careful about it –”

“Ugh, da-ge, please, no –”

“I’m not going to lecture! Just don’t overdo it or anything. You don’t want to end up with a thousand bastards like Sect Leader Jin –”

“Gross! No!”

“– or with all sorts of diseases –”

“Da-ge!”

“– or with a reputation for being a dissolute or a –”

“I will only have sex with someone I love,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Or at least mildly care for. A nice clean person who likes me back. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“More or less,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced down at the books. “Say, Huaisang. You know so much about this. Have you ever…”

“Do you have a question?” Nie Huaisang scooted forward. “Ask away, da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue flicked his forehead. “Not a substantive one. But have you ever thought about making your own? You’re a perfectly good artist, and you’re very imaginative; I’m sure you could come up with some scenarios of your own that might be very interesting.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were wide. “I could, couldn’t I?” he said, marveling, and then suddenly jumped up and dashed over to grab some paper. “Oh, I could! I could – and that – and – and..!”

Nie Mingjue decided to retreat, smiling proudly to himself.

Reading and writing, he thought happily. They’d probably never get a warrior out of Nie Huaisang, but there might be a scholar in him yet!

[themagnuswriters]

Writing a Muslim Character

The Mods of the Magnus Writers discord server and community are putting together a variety of resources for Magnus Archives fan creators; these have been collated from articles on the topics, our own experiences, and the experiences of the members of the Magnus Writers discord. These are definitely not comprehensive or the only viewpoints out there, and are by no means meant as a way to police fanworks, but as a way to support and inspire fan creators in creating thoughtful and diverse works. Please note that external links will be added in a reblog to outsmart tumblr’s terrible tagging system, so make sure to check those out as well!

This resource in particular was put together by Mod Jasmine: hi, all! 

While there are no canonically Muslim characters in TMA, Muslim headcanons are common in fanworks—particularly for Basira, and sometimes Jon (which I love to see!). I have cobbled together this post from my own experiences to help support and inform fans in these areas, and as part of my diabolical plan to get more Muslim!Basira and Muslim!Jon fics to shove into my brain.

First, two gigantic caveats:

I was raised Sunni Muslim in Egypt, which is a majority Sunni Muslim country, and still live there. This means my experience will be very different from someone raised in a majority Christian country like the UK, and different again if they are not Sunni and not Arab.

I am currently ex-Muslim. This does not mean I bear any ill will towards Islam or Muslims, just that it wasn’t for me, and I felt it was important to be upfront about that. I’ll be linking to resources by practicing Muslims in the reblog to this post, whether to add to my opinions and experiences or provide you with a different opinion. I am not here to put my voice over that of Muslims, just to do some of the work so they don’t have to. Obviously, if any Muslims have any additions or suggestions for this post, I’m happy to accommodate them.

Alright. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get started with the basics of writing a Muslim character.

(Warning: this is absurdly, absurdly long)

Basics:

Muslims follow two main sources of religious instruction: Quran and Hadith. 

The Quran is the holy book, considered to be dictated by the angel Gabriel to the Prophet Mohammed, who then relayed what he was told to his followers. It is composed of surahs, or chapters, which have individual ayat, or verses. There are no varying versions of the Quran, later additions, or anything considered lost in translation. Any Arabic Quran is considered to be the same text that the Prophet Mohammed relayed, unchanged. As a result, while Muslims can debate interpretations of the Quran (although that’s often still left to the scholars), none debate the actual words of the text.

Hadith, meanwhile, are the sayings or teachings of the Prophet Mohammed. Their validity can be disputed, as they were written by his followers after his death, and mainly depend on having several witnesses for a specific saying or situation. The more witnesses there were, the more valid the hadith is considered to be.

When in doubt or should there be any contradiction between the Quran and Hadith, Muslims will always refer to the Quran first and foremost.

Denominations:

The bigggest (but not only!) divisions of Islam are Sunni and Shia, and both of those have separate madhabs, which are the separate thoughts and stances of specific Imams. When writing a Muslim character, a good first step would be to decide where your character’s family might have come from, as that could help inform which denomination your character might belong to. This will in turn inform things like the beliefs they grew up with, how they pray, their holy holidays, and so on. Obviously, all denominations fall under the bigger umbrella of Muslim, but can vary in practice.

Background:

The intersection of culture and religion affects a character beyond which denomination they likely belong to, such as whether they call prayer salah or namaz, the foods they might associate with Ramadan or Eid, and their community’s stance on things like hijab and alcohol.

One thing to keep in mind is that being Muslim is not synonymous with being Arab and vice versa. Not all Arabs are Muslim, not all Muslims are Arab or even Middle Eastern. In fact, the largest Muslim country in the world is Indonesia. That said, depending on your character’s race and backround, there is the potential they may have faced Arab elitism or other strands of racism within Muslim circles. Please see the reblog of this post for an article about  one Black British Muslim woman’s experience with racism.

And, of course, your character and their family do not need to have been immigrants at all. They or their family may have been converts instead. According to most Muslim schools of thought, all that’s required for a person to be Muslim is stating the shahada in Arabic, honestly and with intent. It goes, “Ashhadu an la ilah illa Allah, wa an Mohammadan rasul Allah,” which translates as “I bear witness that there is no god but God, and that Mohammed is His prophet.” Shia Muslims, I believe, have an additional section, but otherwise that’s it. Recite that in front of witnesses with sincere belief and that’s all you need to be Muslim.

Pillars of Islam:

These are the duties or cornerstones of a Muslim’s faith and considered to be acts every Muslim should strive for. What the pillars are can, I think, differ between denominations, with Shia Muslims having additional ancillaries as well (any Shia readers, please feel free to correct me!) but both denominations agree that the following are important:

Salah—prayer

Sawm—fasting during Ramadan

Zakat—giving a certain percentage of income to charity or the community

Hajj—pilgrimage to Mecca

In all cases, these are considered mandatory only for those who are able. A person who cannot perform hajj, whether due to not being physically able to or lacking the funds to travel, is under no obligation.

Prayer:

Prayer is performed five times a day while facing the Qibla, which is the direction of Mecca. Prayer is formed of units, called rak’at, which consists of a set of actions done in a specific order. The “How to Pray Salah, Step by Step” article linked in the reblog of this post provides fairly good prayer instructions for beginners, so check it out for details!  These include bowing, prostrating, and reciting some surahs. 

Each of the five daily prayers has a different number of rak’at, as well as its own name and allotted time of day, as follows:

Fajr, which means Dawn and can be performed at any point until the sun rises (two rak’at). 

Dhuhr, which means Noon (four rak’at)

Asr, performed in the afternoon (four rak’at)

Maghreb, which means sunset and can be performed at any point until it’s dark (three rak’at)

Isha, performed at night and can be done at any point until dawn (four rak’at)

The specific time of prayer will differ day to day and place to place, according to the sun, but those are the rough timeframes for each. It’s generally preferred that a Muslim does their prayer on time, but in practice some Muslims find it difficult to wake up for Fajr, for instance, and just try to make sure they get a morning prayer in before noon.

On Friday, there is a congregational Friday prayer at Dhuhr in a mosque called the Jumu’a prayer (which, fun fact, literally means gathering and is also the Arabic name for Friday!). Only men are required to take part in the congregation, however.  

In Muslim majority countries, the time for prayer is announced by the adhaan, the call to prayer, from mosques and in media. This won’t be the case in the UK, and the character will likely have to rely on an adhaan app or looking up what time prayer should be. 

There are various requirements for a prayer to be correct, chief of which is facing the Qibla and purity. Before performing prayer, a Muslim must purify themself by performing wudu, or ablutions, which basically involves washing the hands, arms, nostrils, face, head, and feet a specific number of times using clean water. The way I was taught these must be performed in a certain order, and the person shouldn’t speak during or after until their prayer is finished. This may be different for others.

Wudu is considered valid until nullified by bodily functions such as urinating, defecating, vomiting, flatulence, or any sexual activity. For Sunni Muslims, it’s also invalidated by going to sleep. If none of these have happened, a Muslim can perform more than one prayer using the same wudu.

Notably, a Muslim cannot pray if they’re on their period, as they’re considered in a state of impurity. 

Another important requirement is that a Muslim be dressed modestly for prayer. The general guideline is that Muslim men should cover the area between their navel and knees with loose, non-revealing clothing, and that during prayer it’s preferred that they cover their chests as well  Muslim women should cover everything except their face, hands, and feet. This means that a woman who isn’t hijabi would still wrap a hijab for prayer. For nonbinary Muslims, I don’t think there are specific guidelines yet, although please feel free to correct me. 

If praying at home, a family may choose to pray together. In this case, the male head of the household usually stands at the front and acts as Imam, leading the prayer. Other men will tend to be in front of or beside women, as generally women should not pray in front of a man. This is the case even, especially, if he is not praying.

Children aren’t required to pray, as they’re considered innocent and have no obligations, but may want to take part early on or may be encouraged to practice.

Praying is one area you’ll find denominational differences. For example, while Sunnis fold their arms in prayer, Shia keep their arms to their side, and while Shia Muslims make sure their foreheads touch a piece of clay or earth when they prostrate, Sunnis do not. If you write your character praying, keep these details in mind.

Fasting:

During the holy month of Ramadan, Muslims fast from Fajr (dawn) until Maghreb (sunset) every day. This means they abstain from consuming anything—yes, even water, cigarettes, and medicine. They should also abstain from sexual activities and cursing. Most importantly, they must have the intention to be fasting. This means that not eating and drinking because they were asleep for that entire period of time or just lost track and forgot does not count as fasting.

Generally, the idea is more to try to be more pious and avoid sin throughout the month. It’s thought that the shaytan (or devil) is chained up during Ramadan, so any temptation or sinning is a person’s own doing. The way I was raised, I was taught that sawm/fasting is invalidated by sexual thoughts  and raising your voice as well. Many people also try to dress more modestly during Ramadan, with some women opting for looser clothing or a headscarf. Many Muslims will try to read the whole Quran during Ramadan. 

After Maghreb, Muslims break their fast with Iftar (which means breakfast, hah) and have a late night meal called Suhour. Since the Muslim calendar is a lunar calendar, Ramadan is 11 days earlier every year. Depending on when Ramadan falls in the year, there can be barely any time between iftar and suhour in certain parts of the world, as the sun is up for so much of the day. 

Given the length of time and difficulty involved, there are exceptions and allowances for fasting. A person is not required to fast if they are:

A child (up to puberty)

Ill or has a medical condition such as diabetes

Pregnant

Travelling

On their period

In fact, if they are on their period it will not be counted, even if they do fast. That said, sometimes people choose to fast while travelling anyway, as travel is less strenuous now than it used to be. If they’re crossing time zones they will have to consider which time zone they’re breaking their fast to. As far as I remember, it’s based on the time zone of the place they just left or started their fast in. 

If an obstacle to fasting is temporary, such as their period, they’re expected to make those days up with additional fasting before next Ramadan. Otherwise, they are allowed to make up for the lost fast in another way, such as by donating money or feeding fasting people. Whether due to societal pressure (which is formidable in Muslim-majority countries) or out of consideration for others who are fasting, those who are not fasting for whatever reason may often choose to hide this and only eat in secret.

If a person forgets they were fasting or accidentally consumes something, it does not invalidate the fast , and as soon as they remember or realise the mistake they can have the intention to fast again and continue with their day. 

While children are exempt, many families will start them off by fasting for half a day so they can build up to a full day when they hit puberty.

Ramadan traditions vary wildly from country to country and culture to culture, but generally it’s a time for family gathering and celebration. Often there are special Ramadan-specific food, drink, and decorations, and it ends with Eid ul-Fitr which has its own specific foods and celebrations. Basically, imagine if Christmas lasted a month. That’s how big a deal Ramadan is. 

In my experience, the first few days are usually the hardest. Water is what I tended to miss the most, even if I managed to stay up long enough or set an alarm to wake up to drink just before fajr, followed closely by swearing. Anyone who drinks caffeine or smokes cigarettes will likely find abstaining from those more difficult than water. By the end of the month, though, it gets much easier and I often got to the point where I barely noticed. I will say, however, that the longest I’ve had to fast has been maybe 16 hours. A summer Ramadan in the UK would be more difficult due to the much later sunsets.

Halal and Haram:

Halal means “permissible,” while haram means “forbidden.”  You might have heard these words in passing before, such as halal food, but they are used for many areas of life.  

Things that are considered haram include:

Consuming, serving, or trading in intoxicants, such as alcohol

Consuming improperly slaughtered meat or meat from forbidden animals, such as pork

Extramarital sex

Tattoos

Gambling

Men wearing silk or gold

A Muslim woman marrying a non-Muslim man (although it’s fine for a Muslim man to marry a non-Muslim woman)

Being immodest

Modesty is expected of all genders, including men. If you’ll recall from the section on prayer, the general guideline for male modesty is that they should cover the area between their navel and knees with loose, non-revealing clothing. Note that for women, modesty does not necessarily involve wearing a hijab.  There is actually a ton of controversy as to whether the hijab is a fard (requirement) or not, as described in the following section.

The Hijab:

To be hijabi takes more than just throwing on a headscarf. As a word, hijab means “barrier” or “veil,” and a hijabi person would be expected to cover everything except their face and the palms of their hands, and to ensure that their clothes are loose and non-revealing.  It all comes from an interpretation of two verses in the Quran that many scholars nowadays agree to mean the hijab is required, and that some say actually call for a face covering as well, which is called a niqab. 

This wasn’t always the case, however, and these days there is still the occasional controversial scholar (I remember a few kerfuffles coming out of Egypt’s Al-Azhar mosque recently) saying it isn’t and has never been required at all. At least in the Arab world, this is largely due to the wave of Wahhabism (which is a specifically fundamentalist interpretation of Islam) that’s taken over the region in the past half a century. Before that, the idea of a hijab being a religious requirement was less widespread.

I’m not here to argue who’s right or wrong, just to make you aware that the hijab as we know it today hasn’t always been considered a requirement for a Muslim woman. Most of the women of my family never wore any form of head covering, but more and more they are an exception rather than the norm.

The choice of whether to wear a hijab can mean very different things, depending on the surrounding culture. For instance, my grandmother, the strictest woman I have ever known, got married in a very cute sleeveless dress that went just under the knees, and when she grew older she wore a head-covering more as a cultural indication of age rather than any religious reason. In my generation, in a country with a Muslim majority, lack of visible signs of devoutness have become almost a class marker, with some upper-class women using their lack of head-covering as a sign that they are “more Westernized” or “modern.” And again, I want to emphasize that this is the case for my country only. 

This will be completely different for Muslim minorities, where the hijab can become a symbol of pride and unity.

I will say that it’s very rare for women to be forced into getting veiled, whether in Muslim minority or majority countries. I’m not saying it never happens, just that it’s not the “oppressive tool of the patriarchy” outsiders sometimes think it is. Women may face some societal pressure, but by and large it is considered a choice and often an empowering one. In fact, I have friends whose families discouraged them from wearing a hijab too young and emphasized only taking the decision when they were sure they wanted to. If writing a Muslim character when you’re non-Muslim, I strongly suggest not trying to tackle the story of someone forced into a hijab, as there’s a lot of nuance there and it’s very easy to fall into harmful stereotypes. The hijabi woman who gets “liberated” and takes off her hijab is also overdone and harmful. Please don’t.

Everyday Life:

Muslims are not a monolithic entity, and some will be more devout or religious than others. There are those who will pray their five a day and others who only pray during Ramadan or Eid, some who don’t drink and some who do, hijabis who dress only in loose clothing and those who wear tight trousers or show some of their hair, some who have tattoos, and some who may date or even have sex before marriage. However, this isn’t a carte-blanche not to do research when writing a Muslim character, because even if they break a rule of Islam, they will be conscious of it, may be concerned about their community’s response to it, and in any case will be affected by it.

For instance, I know many Muslims who drink alcohol. Some interpret the text differently, saying that since the sin is getting drunk then they won’t drink enough to get drunk, just buzzed. Some only do it on special occasions or on vacation, saying they know it’s a sin but it’s fine on occasion and they’ll repent later. All of them would probably dive under a table if they thought their family was nearby.

For more opinions on Muslims and dealing with alcohol, take a look at the “Islam and Alcohol” article linked in the reblog of this post.

Here are things that a character who is a practicing Muslim might do or be concerned about in their day to day life:

Checking ingredients to make sure they’re all halal. This goes for things like food, drink, medicine, anything consumable. Things like gelatine capsules are only halal if the source of the gelatine is itself halal, for instance.

Keeping up with their prayers. With five prayers a day, some will inevitably happen while they’re out of the house. Some Muslims prefer to just group their prayers when they get home, but since it’s preferable to do prayers on time, others may try to pray while out and about This means considering the following:

Finding a bathroom for wudu. Part of wudu involves washing feet and the head, which isn’t feasible in a public location or if the person is hijabi and doesn’t want to unwrap and rewrap their hijab. In that case, they can generally wipe a wet hand over their socks and top of their head covering. 

They may carry a prayer carpet or have one stashed in a convenient location, but it’s not a must.

Finding a clean and secluded place to pray. Generally, it’s not done to pray in a place where someone will pass in front of you, and a woman must also take care to pray away from men’s eyes. 

Figuring out where the Qibla is. Luckily, there are apps for that.

If a woman is not hijabi, she would have to carry a veil and, depending on her clothes, something to cover up so she can pray.

If they’re hijabi, they’ll probably have to adjust or re-wrap their hijab throughout the day, depending on the material and their activities. This would typically happen in bathrooms or any other space that doesn’t include men, as they can’t reveal themselves to any men who aren’t of their immediate family. For more on the hijab, and the day to day realities of wearing and wrapping one, take a look at the links provided in the reblog of this post.  

A Muslim woman may choose not to accept handshakes from men who aren’t family.  She has probably considered how to deal with that potential awkwardness.

If they’re fasting, they might carry some dates or biscuits or something in case they need to break their fast while on the go.

If making plans, they might say, “Insha’allah” which means “God willing.” I was always admonished to do so to acknowledge the future is entirely within God’s hands.

If asked how they are, they might reply with “Alhamdullilah” which means “Thanks be to God.”

When starting to eat, they may say, “Bismillah,” which means “In the name of God” and when done eating may say “Alhamdullilah.” These can also be invoked silently.

As you might have noticed, Allah’s name is invoked pretty often. While it’s not preferable to swear using God’s name just to make a point (“Wallahi”), there’s nothing against it, really.

Fundamentally, an important thing to remember is that Islam is a religion of ease and not hardship. This is an actual Quranic quote. What this means is, it may seem like there are a lot of rules to keep in mind, but there are also a ton of allowances for when those rules aren’t feasible, just like the case for fasting above. Other allowances include how an elderly or disabled person who may not be able to perform the motions of prayer can pray while sitting in a chair or even lying in bed. If there isn’t any clean water to purify before prayer or if using the water would mean lack of drinking water, a Muslim can use dust or sand to purify, and if no dust or sand is available then they don’t need to purify at all and can simply pray. 

This means that, say, if your Muslim Jon wants to pray while kidnapped by the circus, he can, even without being able to perform wudu, even without knowing where the Qibla is, even without being able to move or say anything at all.

For more day-to-day tidbits, check out the “More on writing Muslim characters” link in the reblog of this post. 

LGBTQ Muslims:

Needless to say, Queer Muslims absolutely do exist, and their being Muslim doesn’t cancel out their queerness or vice versa. While there are Quranic verses that have been interpreted as condemning homosexuality, there are also other interpretations, and queerness has existed in Muslim societies for ages. There was a ton of homoerotic imagery among Abbasid poets during the Golden Age of Islam, for example. 

However, modern-day attitudes can be difficult to get around, and queer Muslims may have difficulty finding their place in both Muslim spaces and queer spaces, the latter which often expect them to reject religiosity.

Although I am queer myself, I don’t feel it’s my place to speak for queer Muslims and their relationships with their communities beyond this, so I’ll let some queer practicing Muslims speak for themselves.  Please see the reblog of this post for valuable contributions from queer Muslims about their experiences.  

Miscellaneous:

This is mostly for all the random tidbits I thought up while writing this that didn’t fit anywhere else and also because I don’t know when to quit apparently, SO!

Allah is just Arabic for God. Muslims can and do use these terms interchangeably, such as saying “God willing,” instead of “Inshallah,” even in an Arabic-speaking country. 

Also, God has 99 names! Just a fun fact for you there. 

The Devil in Islam is pretty different from his Christian counterpart. Referred to as Iblis or Shaytan, among other names, he is not a fallen angel and there is no great revolt story, nor is he considered a root of all evil. Instead, he is a djinn made of smokeless flame who refused to bow down to Adam, as he felt he was made of superior stuff and not about to bow to a creature made of mud. His disdain for humanity is what has caused him and other shayateen/demons to try and tempt humans.

A person’s right hand is considered purer than their left, so it’s encouraged to always eat with your right hand. Unfortunately, this does mean left-handed people face something of a stigma—or at least that’s the case here in Egypt. My cousins, both lefties, both eat with their right hand, though they  do everything else with their left.

Similarly, it is considered better to enter spaces with your right foot, though only the most devout are likely to think of this all the time. This is especially considered for entering a mosque or new home.

A Muslim might say or write “Peace be Upon Him” whenever the Prophet Mohammed is mentioned, written as (PBUH), and “Subhanuh wa Taala” when mentioning Allah, written as (SWT).

The Evil Eye is mentioned in the Quran as “hasad,” and considered to be a very real thing. This jealous or envious energy is considered able to ruin good things in your life, even if the jealous person didn’t intend to. There are some surahs that are considered good to ward against it, as well as incense, the colour blue, the number five, and the symbols of the nazar (which is a round, blue-ringed eye) and the khamsa (an open five-fingered palm, also known as the Hand of Fatima). The nazar, khamsa, and belief in the evil eye aren’t unique to Islam at all. What is unique to Islam is that a Muslim might preface a compliment with “Masha’allah” which means “As God wills it,” to ward off their own evil eye. 

Much of the Quran in Arabic rhymes and is very poetic, which can make surahs easy to memorise by rhythm. It can also make recitations by a skilled reader very lovely.

[swtltlmrvlgrl]

Stay Until the Rain Stops

Summary:

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier AU. In Bucky’s search of what his “normal” looks like, he finds the reader sitting in a dark alleyway giving shelter to everything else, besides herself.

This story is part of my one-shot compilations inspired by the song “You Shine” from the musical “Carrie”, wherein two people see the way each other shines. This is NOT related to the previously uploaded story called “Accidents Happen”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic!sam wilson and peter parker)

Warning/s: allergies, rain, fever, fainting, awkward

Word Count: 4,750

-----

“How can I leave you if you’re looking at me like that?”

You were on your way home from work, and it was raining heavily. To prevent the rain from soaking your bag and the important papers due tomorrow inside it, you positioned it in front of you - as if you’re cradling a baby in your arms. You were typing something on your phone when you heard a cry coming from the direction of the alleyway, you looked around to check if people noticed it too.

The sound of the cry hit too close to home that you weren’t able to ignore it. You walked towards and into the dark alleyway. With one umbrella in hand and your phone on the other, you turned on your phone’s flashlight and searched for the source of the soft cries.

You found it, and it is EXACTLY what you thought it was. Staring straight into your eyes with its pleading puppy dog eyes is obviously a puppy. It’s soaking wet inside a cardboard box. You immediately take off your grey cardigan and crouch down.

“Your parents left you here, huh?” You say, while wrapping the cardigan around the puppy.

You sit down - indian style - and place the box between your thighs. You pull the box and your bag closer to your body to make sure that the dog and your bag is properly placed under the umbrella, not minding the huge droplets of water accumulating on your back.

“I’m sorry.” You tell the puppy.” This is the only thing that I can do.”

The puppy wags its tail slowly. It breaks your heart that you can’t take the puppy home, but you’re allergic to dogs and puppies. The mere fact that you actually had contact with this puppy right now will have its consequences tonight or tomorrow, it’s fine but having it with you every day is a death sentence. Of course, you WOULD know.

When you were a child, you would ask your mother everyday to visit your aunt’s place because she had five dogs. You knew you were allergic to dogs so you made sure that you always drink your antihistamine after visiting your aunt’s house. But after playing with her dogs the whole day for 5 consecutive days, your body did not respond to the antihistamine anymore and you had to be rushed to the hospital. The worst part is, ever since that day, you’re not allowed to visit your aunt’s house and play with her dogs. You can only admire dogs from afar. That experience left a void in your heart that can only be filled by watching dog videos everyday.

“Ah!” You remember that you have a leftover carrot in the lunch box. “Today is your lucky day champ.” You scramble through your things. “My lunch was cut short so I have a few pieces of carrots left.”

You mash the carrots with your fingers, making it easier for the puppy to eat. “Here you go.” The puppy licks the mashed carrots at the tip of your index finger. “Good?” You ask, after you see him finishing up the food. The puppy wags its tail enthusiastically. “Man, how long have you been here?”

The puppy barks in response. “A long time huh?” You pat its head. “Okay. Here’s a deal.” You take his right paw with your right hand. “I’ll ask around the office tomorrow. I promise I’ll find you a new parent. Okay?” You shake his paw and he barks.

-----

Ever since he moved in one week ago, Bucky would always check the alleyway near his apartment building. It’s been pretty quiet and normal these past few days.

But not today.

Even with his hood up, he could clearly hear something in the alleyway. He walked slowly and stealthily, and found shelter a few meters away from the unfamiliar entity.

From where he was standing, he recognized the shape of an umbrella, and a box resting on what seemed like legs in denim jeans. He heard a voice, your voice, having a conservation with … the box?

Wait.

Did the box...bark?

“I’ll stay here until the rain stops.” He heard you say.

Bucky contemplated on what you just said. Is she out of her mind? He looked up and stretched his hands out to check if the rain would stop any time soon. An obvious, no.

After clicking his tongue, he clenched his jaw, and walked briskly towards your direction. He can’t just leave you there soaking under the rain.

Ah, Bucky was caught with a sudden pang of nostalgia. It’s been a while since I saved an irresponsibly impulsive person.

-----

The sound of footsteps approaching you puts you on high alert. The puppy must’ve smelled your fear and starts barking towards the direction of the stranger. The entity stops a few steps away from you. You hold your breath and pray that today won’t be your last day on earth. The puppy stops barking.

After a moment of silence, you hear three small taps on your umbrella. The person at the opposite side of the umbrella cleared his (you assumed he’s a man because of his deep voice) throat.

“I- uh - overheard your conversation with the thing in the box” He starts saying.

You pull your umbrella up, exposing the dog wrapped in grey cardigan and your drenched self to the man. Seeing the state that you’re in, Bucky swiftly takes off his leather jacket, leaving him with only his hoodie to cover his body from the rain, and proceeds to wrap it around you.

“My jacket’s a little wet too but...” He says. “This can warm you up a little.” He takes the handle of your umbrella. “I don’t think the rain’s going to stop any time soon.” Before you can say anything, he stretches his arms out for you to hold. “Maybe we should go and seek shelter first?”

----

“James Buchanan Barnes.” He introduces himself.”But you can call me Bucky.”

You can’t really tell him that he doesn’t need to introduce himself, cause you already know him. You work in the Avengers tower after all, and Sam Wilson has been talking about his new cyborg-brained partner coming in a week.

As a mechanical engineer, you’ve always been fascinated by the technologies coming from Wakanda, and you’ve been particularly curious about his metal arm. But you can’t really tell him that now, can you? Especially now that you’re inside his apartment while drying your hair with his towel. Good thing you always pack extra sets of clothes, it would’ve been awkward if he offers you his clothes, as well.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You tell him. “Thank you for saving me and the puppy out there. I’m actually...” You sigh. “...allergic to dogs and puppies so I can’t adopt him and take him home.” You continue, while playing with the tip of the towel. “I know this is too much to ask after everything you did but is it okay if he stays with you for now?”

Bucky isn’t responding. He can’t. How can he take care of a puppy, he can’t even take care of himself.

“I’ll find him a parent tomorrow, I promise.” You assure him, while putting the towel down and facing him.

“Sure.” Bucky gives a half-hearted response, while forcing a smile.

You heave a sigh of relief “Thanks!” You run towards him and shake his hands. “You’re a hero.”

Hero. That’s probably the last word that Bucky will use to describe himself, but he won’t deny that being called like that felt good. He didn’t even notice the way his half-hearted smile turned into a full one.

“You can stay here if you want.” Bucky offers as you let go of his hand.

You were taken aback by the offer. I mean, staying with Mr. Barnes would entail a lot of chances to ask him about the arm and maybe more about the Wakandan technology. But that’s too much to ask from him in a day, he’s just being polite and you don’t want to impose.

“Thank you so much for the offer. But I would have to decline.” You say.

The curve on Bucky’s face disappears. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You say in a hushed voice.

“I can take you ho - “ The sound from the puppy cuts Bucky mid-sentence.

The puppy must’ve understood what you just said, and started barking and crying. You and Bucky look at each other for a moment, then to the dog and to each other again. Bucky smirks, and you smile back. You both start walking towards the crying dog. You crouch down and pat the puppy’s head.

“Hey.” He stops crying and wags his tail, while aggressively rubbing his head and his muzzle in your hand. “I have to go.” The puppy starts crying again, a little louder than the first one.

You take a deep breath and sigh. “You’re using the crying technique again. We meet for 5 seconds and you already know my weakness. You’re even using it against me.”

You hear Bucky’s small chuckle from behind.

“Fine.” You rub his head a few more times. “I’ll stay. But no more touching, ‘kay?” The puppy barks once and wags his tail. He does a small twirl and pats your gray sweater-turned-dog-blanket and makes himself comfortable.

You breathe out and slowly stand to face Bucky.

“Don’t apologize.” Bucky starts talking before you could say anything. “The puppy actually did a better job than me in convincing you to stay. I mean -” Bucky rubs his nape and points at the wall clock. “It’s already late. I think it would be best if you stay here for the night.”

“I really, really don’t want to impose. But I also don’t want to leave him crying in your apartment. I promise I’ll go home early in the morning.”

“Sure.” He pauses. “You mentioned that you’re - uh - allergic to dogs, I can go out to buy medicine for you.”

“Oh no no. No need. I actually have some with me.”

“Water?” Bucky offers.

You nod your head. “Thank you.”

“Actually - uhm -” You stop him before he goes to fetch you some water. “I have something to tell you.” You pause for a moment to gather all the necessary strength that you would need for this confession. “We’re actually office or work mates… ish?”

Bucky raises his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I work at the Avengers Tower.” You say it as fast as you can. “But I’m not like you, or like a superhero or something. I work at the engineering department.” You confess. “Sam, your partner, I help him sometimes with his gears. He has been talking about you since last week.”

“Well. That man really likes talking a lot huh.” Bucky responds.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how I’m going to tell you without it being awkward.”

“I don’t think we can get any more awkward than this, Y/N.”

“Agreed.”

“So work mates, huh?”

“Yep.”

“That’s actually good news.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ll have someone with me on my first day.”

The tension and the awkwardness between the two of you started to disappear. Having some kind of a connection and a common friend, made Bucky feel a bit more relaxed and at ease. You, on the other hand, feel better because you don’t have anything to hide. You still haven’t told him about your interest for his Wakandan arm, but that’s a completely different story.

While you were drinking your antihistamine, Bucky took out his blankets and his extra pillows and laid them all on the sofa, where you will be sleeping for the night. After which, he arranges a pair of pillows and a blanket on the floor, a few steps away from the sofa, where he will be sleeping.

You really feel bad about this set-up, especially with Bucky just sleeping on the floor with just blankets serving as his cushion, but Sam sometimes tells you stories about vets having a difficult time sleeping on beds. It felt too soft, Sam would say, like the ground is eating them alive. Which is why, no matter how uncomfortable it looks and feels to you, you did your best to not put Bucky in a position where he has to explain himself and his feelings.

Bucky turns off the lights, except the lampshade beside the television.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

-----

You wake up to a very cold sensation, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes feel heavy and you somehow find it difficult to breathe. Slowly, you open your eyes to wake up and try to sit up. Now you realize, it’s not just your eyes or your breathing is heavy, your whole body feels heavy.

This isn’t good.

You scan through the room to look for Bucky only to find a small piece of paper neatly placed on the table with a glass of water on top to prevent it from being taken away by the wind. His note was written at the center of the short bond paper with a black pen, his penmanship was surprisingly neat and easy to understand.

I’ll just go out for a walk. I’ll be back soon. - Bucky

You massage your head and look at the time. It’s 5 am. A little earlier than what you’re used to, maybe that explains why you’re feeling a little under the weather. Drinking the water made you feel a little better, you massage your head and walk towards the puppy. Seeing him sleeping soundly, gave you a sense of relief.

“Sleep well.” You whisper.

The sound of your phone ringing surprised you. Just from the ring tone alone, you know that it’s work-related. You pace towards your bag and search for your phone. You look at the screen. It’s Sam.

“Hey Sam. What’s up?”

“Y/N. I’m sorry to wake you early in the morning.”

“No probs. I’m already awake.”

“This early? That's new.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. ‘Cause I had a feeling you’d call. Women’s intuition.”

Sam laughs. “Right. I need your help in fixing Red Wing for a mission later, can you come?”

“Like now?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure. I’ll just fix myself and go there.”

“Is that Y/N?” You hear a voice from the background, based on the pitch of the voice, it has to be Peter. “Y/N! I need help with my web shooters too!”

“I just leave for a night and everyone misses me already huh.”

“Perks of being the gang’s favorite engineer.” Sam quips. “We have breakfast here too. We’ll wait for you.”

“Come faster, I’m hungry!” Peter shouts. “And I’ll be late for class!”

“Sure sure. I’ll go now. Bye Sam.”

“Thanks, Y/N. See you.”

“Wait! Sam!” You shout, stopping Sam from hanging up the phone “I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Is there a room for a puppy in the Tower?”

“A puppy?” Sam pauses. “Wait, Y/N. Aren’t you allergic to puppies?”

“I’ll explain later.” You tell Sam, while putting out a pen from your bag and then reaching for the piece of paper Bucky previously wrote on.

“Okay. I guess it can stay in my room.”

“Yes! Thanks Sam, see you!” Then you hang up.

Hi Bucky. Good morning. Sorry but I have to leave. Duty calls. I feel bad that I won’t be able to come with you on your first day at the tower but you can always pass by the Eng’g department if you’re free. I’ll be there the whole day.

Also, good news! Sam’s willing to adopt the puppy, so I’ll be taking it with me.

Thank you for everything and sorry for the trouble that I caused.

-Y/N

You pick up the box carefully, so as not to wake the puppy up and went out.

—————

“If you’re looking for Y/N she’s in the clinic.” Sam tells Bucky whose eyes were searching the building room. Inside his backpack was a piece of sandwich because you were and a small carton of milk he bought on his way home early morning, but wasn’t able to give you or the puppy because you weren’t there when he came back. “And the puppy’s in my room.” Sam adds.

“I see.” Bucky answers, trying to be as indifferent sounding as possible. But deep inside, he’s actually worried about you. Is it because of her allergies? Maybe I shouldn’t have let you stay in the same room as the dog.

“It’s not her allergies.” Sam says, like he read exactly what’s in Bucky’s mind.

“Good.”

Both Sam and Bucky enter the elevator going to the 5th floor where most of the weapons, tools and equipment are found. Upon arriving, Sam points at the second door at the right side area, on top of it is a huge sign written with black paint saying ‘Engineering Department’.

Sam opens the door. Lo and Behold at the far end of the room, wearing safety goggles, holding a soldering pen, with sparks flying all over the place, was you.

“I thought she’s in the clinic.”.

“My god! Y/N! I told you to stay in the clinic.” Sam ignores what Bucky just said and walks straight towards you. “I leave you for what? Thirty minutes? and you’re -” Sam takes his eyes off of you and shoots angry glances at the engineering staff. “And you all didn’t even stop her.”

“You know, she can’t be stopped when she’s in the zone.” One of the staff answers and the others nod in agreement.

“In the zone or not, she has a fever for god’s sake.”

“Don’t be mad Sam, I was the one who told them to not stop me.” You continue to solder on Red Wing’s fuel control unit.

“That’s a first. They never listen to you.” Sam stands at the opposite side of your working table with his arms crossed on his chest, the volume of his voice is lower, almost like a murmur.

“In my defense, you’re the one who asked for my help.” You pull the magnifying glass and adjust it a few inches away from the mechanism.

“That was because I didn’t know you had a high fever.” The moment you stop soldering, Sam pulls the magnifier away from Red Wing, making you put your full attention on the man standing in front of you. “I can handle this Y/N. Rest. Now.”

You pull the magnifier back and continue with your work. “Where’s Rain?” You’re attempting to change the topic.

“Who’s Rain?” The familiarity coming from the voice made you stop, you were expecting to see him today but not this soon. You put down the soldering pen, push your goggles up to your forehead.

“Hey Bucky.” You greet him. Bucky notices how pale you are and yet your smile never faltered. Your adorable awkwardness is still present as well.

“Hey.” He responds. “So... ‘Rain’... the puppy’s name?”

“Yeah. Peter, Sam and I named him this morning”

“Wait.” Sam interjects and looks at Bucky. “So, Y/N can call you Bucky but I can’t?”

Bucky ignores Sam’s comment, steps forward and points at Red Wing. “How long are you planning to fix that?”

You look at your wrist watch and then at Red Wing. “I’ll be done in 20-30 minutes.”

“Make it 10 minutes.” Bucky challenges. “If you’re not yet done by then. I’ll be carrying you out of this room and into the clinic.”

“Wait. What?”

“What? Can’t do it? I thought people working here are the best of the best.” Bucky pushes further.

You squint at him and then to Sam and then sighs. “Fine.” You set the alarm to ten minutes and then plug one of the airpods in your ear. “I’ll walk to the clinic myself.” Then plugs the other airpod to the other ear. “See you in 10 minutes.”

“And just like that, you listen to him?” Sam comments and puts his hands on his waist.

Bucky puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder “I had years of experience looking out for irresponsibly impulsive people.” He nods his head inviting Sam to step outside.

-----

“So Y/N reminds you of Steve, huh.” Sam says after getting out of your office.

Bucky smirks. “If by that, you mean, she reminds me of the times that I have to check alleyways ‘cause the sickly Steve “too-stubborn-to run-away-from-a-fight” Rogers might be out there somewhere, then yes.”

“Good thing she’s not the fighting type” Sam continues. “That would’ve given me a headache.”

“She's irresponsible, reckless and impulsive.” Bucky adds. “But she’s a good person.”

“That is something we can agree on.” Sam says.

-----

“I’m done!” With just a few seconds to spare, you shout and raise your two hands to celebrate. Sam and Bucky must’ve heard you cause a few seconds later, they enter the room and walk straight to your work station.

“I did it!” After congratulating you and giving you a high five, the two of them position themselves on each of your sides, Sam on your left and Bucky on your right.

“Now.” You take off your gloves, your goggles and your industrial apron. “A deal is a deal, I will walk - “

Thump.

The goggles that you were supposed to place on the table fell on the ground.

“Y/N!” Sam calls out and immediately checks your pulse. “She’s still alive. Just unconscious. She must’ve fainted because of her high fever.”

“I’ll take her to the clinic.” Bucky hoists you up and carries you like a princess. Bucky starts to run and Sam tries to follow after Bucky, but Bucky was too fast.

“The clinic’s on the 2nd floor.” Sam shouts at the running form of Bucky.

“FRIDAY.” Sam gets the AI’s attention.

“Yes, Mr. Wilson.”

“Please tell the clinic that Bucky will be taking Y/N there.” Sam commands. “Also, show Bucky the directions, I don’t think he knows the way to the clinic yet.”

“Understood.”

“Thanks FRIDAY.”

-----

The shape and form of the room you’re staying at becomes clearer as you slowly open your eyes. Everything in the room is white, white sheets, white curtains, white wallpaper, the cabinets are also painted white. Something or should you say someone, sitting on the white couch does not follow the all-white aesthetic of the room. He was wearing black leader jacket on top of a blue henley. His metal arm is holding a Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban book, while his flesh hand is flipping through the page. His expression is priceless, you can tell from his expression alone that he’s very invested in the scene that he’s reading.

“How long was I asleep?” Your voice catches Bucky’s attention, you kind of regretted speaking too soon, maybe you should’ve let him read for a while longer. “You’re already on the third book.”

“Let’s just say I’m a fast reader.” Bucky smiles and puts down the book on the table beside the couch. “You’ve been out for about …” He looks at his smartphone. “ 7, 8 hrs.”

“That explains my growling stomach.” You push yourself up into a sitting position, with the pillow serving as the cushion between your back and the bed’s headboard.

Bucky gets two trays of food in the small refrigerator and places them inside the microwave. “Sam gave us food before leaving for the mission. He told me that food will be the first thing that you will ask for, once you wake up.”

You laugh at Sam’s comment. “He isn’t wrong though.”

“Are you feeling better now?” Ding. Bucky takes out the first tray of food to the microwave and then places the second one. With the tray in one hand, he pulls the table with the other. He places the tray on top of the table in front of you.

“Thanks.” You fix the tray and Bucky goes back to the microwave oven. “I’m feeling much better now. Thank you.”

You search around the room for a place where Bucky can eat but you found none. So while Bucky was busy finding the utensils and getting the second tray from the microwave, you scoot your way towards the side of the bed and push the table outwards. This way, you and Bucky can sit beside each other and can eat on an actual table.

Bucky notices what you did and hesitates a little. You smiled at him, to reassure him and pat the empty space beside you. From the time when he first met you, he hasn’t been able to resist that smile. He’s starting to think that maybe this isn’t just because you reminded him of Steve.

“Sam hasn’t come back from the mission?” You start the conversation.

“No.” Bucky chews on the food inside his mouth. “The mission got a little delayed, they might come back late.”

You take a spoonful of rice to eat. “Who’s he with?”

Bucky thinks for a moment. “He’s with Clint and Scott if I remember correctly.”

“Why didn’t you join them?”

“I was -” Bucky takes a sip from the glass of water beside him. “I was busy reading.”

You almost choke on what you were eating. “You read three books!” You laugh. “You must’ve been exhausting.”

“Well the book isn’t going to read itself, you know.”

You both laugh at your sarcastic banter. The two of you continue your conversation while talking about how Bucky’s first day at the Avengers tower went. He was introduced to a few avengers present at the tower and the staff and he toured around the compound. He also mentions something about having a room in the tower, where he can stay if he wants to.

Bucky notices how you were gathering the boiled carrots on one side of your plate. “You hate carrots?”

“Oh!” You were surprised that he noticed. “I actually love carrots. I’m just saving these.” You point at the carrots. ”for Rain.”

He looks at his almost empty plate. “You should’ve told me that we’re doing that. I could have saved some for him too.”

“Giving him a place to stay for the night is enough.” You assure him. “I’ll take care of the food.”

“Too late for task distribution. I already bought him milk.”

“You did?!”

Bucky nods.

“I literally just met you yesterday, and I already owe you a lot. How can I even start repaying you.

“Well.” Bucky thinks about it for a second and smiles mischievously. “Sam must’ve mentioned something about your interest to the Wakandan tech.”

“He did?!” You cringe and facepalm at the amount of shame that you feel. “Well. That’s not a good first impression, isn’t it.”

“As a matter of fact, it IS a good first impression. You’re really good at what you do Y/N.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” You chuckle. “But yeah,” You continue. ”I can’t deny my interest. I probably talk about the Wakandan tech at least once a day. Thrice, if you’re Sam Wilson.”

“With that being said,” Bucky says. “You can repay me by allowing me to join your conversations about the tech.” Bucky flexes the fingers of his metal arm. “And I can use some help in checking up on this one. I mean, if it’s alright with you?”

“Of course it is! You don’t need to ask to join, you can join in anytime you want! You’ll have a valuable input to the conversation. You’ve been there personally and you’ve experienced their technology first hand.” You take Bucky’s metal hand and sandwich it in between yours. “Thank you, Bucky.” You squeeze Bucky’s hand and let it go. “I’m betting Sam told you about my obsession with Wakandan tech.”

“In your defense, Sam talks a lot.” Bucky assures you.

“He does. And he would hate it if you join our conversations.”

“I’m counting on that.”

“But seriously, I would love you - “ You pause. “I mean - you joining our -”

“I would love that too.”

Bucky doesn’t let you finish your sentence. You didn’t need to. It wasn’t necessary. In a span of two days, you made Bucky feel the most comfortable, and awkward but moreso, you made him feel normal. Despite knowing who he is, you didn’t show any signs of fear, or pity. You just showed yourself. And it was enough to make him think and feel that whatever it is that you would love to do, he wants to be part of it, too.

End

A/N: This came out longer than expected! Hahaha. I would usually limit my one-shots to 1-2k words but this came out loner than expected. I had a lot of fun writing Sam and Bucky's dynamic! You have to have that good balance of care and sarcasm between the two of them. That was enjoyable to do (that's probably why this ended up having 4,5k+ words). Did you enjoy reading it? I hope you did! Feel free to write your thoughts below!

Masterlist

[trickstarbrave]

i actually don’t think ppl understand how little the younger generation has been taught about navigating online spaces. this isnt just “they are so entitled and stupid lol” bc i feel like thats just an excuse to feel intellectually superior and like they were personally lazy and thats why they never learned. 

when i was growing up we were taught how to type at a keyboard. proper placement of fingers. internet safety (dont give up out your full name, address, parents names, where you go to school, etc). how to look something up and do research, filters on various archives and engines, and how to troubleshoot things 

to us these are basic skills for using the internet. requirements really before we were let loose on it. did we always follow them? no. but then when we didnt other people will quick to point and say it was our fault (even when it could be really inappropriate to do so and is was just victim blaming)

but that was because the internet had not invaded all of our lives yet. using the internet required you to know how to type, read, and navigate it. not everyone could afford to buy a computer, and dial up was slow as shit and inconvenient. then people started putting their babies in front of tablets like they did TV and let them loose on youtube, then youtube kids. smaller social media sites aimed towards kids vanished bc they werent as profitable. facebook killed privacy and now the goal was to extract as much ad revenue as possible. this is the internet they grew up with: short form content filled with ads, plastering your name around, and only being able to hop from content to content without much control 

and because these kids have grown up with a tablet in their hands since they could grip things and react to lights on a screen everyone just assumed they knew how the internet worked. that they all just figured out these skills we used to teach people. that they learned to type the most efficient way, that they wont give out personal information, and that they know how to look something up and evaluate academic sources. i mean look, they can navigate youtube by just typing in a bunch of random words and typing to find a video that doesn’t look like shit, obviously they know how to format a question and use filters!

except they don’t. not to mention the rise of unrelated hashtags to reach as wide an audience as possible means once some of these kids get to ao3 their brains are programmed to skim over them and just click on whatever title sounds interesting. they don’t know how to search for stuff without just typing related terms and tropes into the search bar and don’t know how the filtering works, even though AO3 doesn’t have any more complicated of a filtering system than most other archives.  

you can blame their parents and say they’re lazy pieces of shit who should have taught internet safety and never gave their kid and ipad, but it goes deeper than that. the death of TV wasn’t caused by them. underfunded education systems that didn’t teach them this weren’t caused by parents. this is a society wide issue and should be more concerning than “teenagers are annoying online” because corporations have just trained an entire generation of kids to not be able to fact check or stay safe online and rely on them to curate content for them because they never learned how to do it themselves. and this is only gonna get worse if we don’t address it and talk about it and the root issues without going “its those damn kids that don’t know how to take care of themselves, back in MY day--”

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 2

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  Vampire!Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of PTSD, Reader is ex police, Possible home invasion, NSFW sexy times, protected sex.

Previous Parts: Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars.  Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

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Chapter 2

Walter had managed to recover from the shock of seeing his best friend and his wife being able to make their eyes glow, and as unbelievable as it sounded, had accepted their explanations of how they’d been turned into Werewolves. Much like his own knowledge of Vampirism before he had been turned himself, he quickly understood that what the media made these quirks of nature to be and what they actually were had been greatly exaggerated. 

Sy had stayed up into the early hours of the morning with him, sharing the better part of a bottle of bourbon as he’d described how it affected their family, and how his wife only turned when her period coincided with a full moon, and how they dealt with childcare during the times that they would turn. 

-

Walter woke with a start, the soft mountain light pouring in the windows and for a moment he was confused, not recognising his surroundings until he remembered spending the rest of the night on Sy’s couch. His mouth felt like something had crawled inside and died, and he swore in that moment not to share hard liquor with someone that could howl at the moon. Finding some painkillers high in a kitchen cabinet he crushed two between his teeth before drinking straight from the tap. Standing tall he moved his neck, trying to get the kinks and knots out of his muscles when a pair of fluffy slippered feet appeared in the doorway. Looking up Walter poorly suppressed a laugh as he saw Sy wearing a pair of sheepskin moccasins and what was obviously his wife’s robe;

“Reginald, you look stunning” Walter muttered as he watched his friend shuffle into the kitchen

Sy held up his finger and waggled it, wincing at the sunlight pouring in the window;

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that, the only people that call me that are the preacher or my Ma, and unless you’re planning on marrying me or making me biscuits...”

Walter laughed, leaning against the counter as Sy filled the coffee pot as if he was on autopilot, before reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a baby bottle with the previous day’s expressing date on. Setting the bottle to warm in a bowl of water he handed Walter a tin of coffee;

“Fill that up, i’m gonna go get Luna”

A few minutes later he reappeared holding his little girl in his arms, wrapped in a soft blanket covered in moons and stars. Grabbing the bottle before settling at the kitchen table, he popped the lid off and shook the bottle, before lifting it and shaking a few drops onto his tongue, laughing when he saw Walters eyes go a little wide;

“Better straight from the source but Mama is sleepin’ so its me in Mama’s robe” he explained with a grin on his face. Walter placed a mug of steaming black coffee in front of Sy; “Thanks man… hey, in the fridge there’s a pint of pigs blood from Walkers Meats… ya’know, if you need it”

“Why have you got pigs blood?”

“The missus was gonna make some Scottish thing, some sorta sausage, but if you need it, we can always get another… in fact she’s gonna be too tired to use it before it spoils, what with the full moon and all...”

Sy turned his attention to his tiny daughter feeding in his arms, giving Walter the sense of privacy to do what he needed to do. As Luna finished her bottle Sy held her to his shoulder, rubbing her back until she let out a burp he would have been proud of himself, only looking up when he heard Walter also let out a low belch;

“You need me to rub your back too Walt?”

“Fuck off Sy” the vampire said lightheartedly, a sense of relief in his mind now that the guy that had become one of his best friends knew his secret.

-

Pulling the last crate of bottles off the back of the pickup you thanked the guy from the craft brewery and waved him off, taking a deep breath before slowly climbing the fire escape at the back of the bar that led into the storeroom. It had been a long shift already, starting at 10am you’d opened up and started the ovens, restocked the bar as the cleaners had come through and cleaned the place top to bottom. Your boss was always decent to his staff, paying a good wage and having the cleaning crew come in during the closed daytime hours rather than in the early hours of the morning.

Working around them as they did their job, you restocked the caddy’s on the tables with silverware, napkins, and condiments, before returning to the bar and checking on the ice machine.

“Hey we’re all done now” one of the cleaners said as you looked up.

“That’s great, thanks. You guys always make this place look good”

Chatting with them you walked them through the storeroom - something your boss always insisted on that any non bar staff had to be escorted through - before one reached for the wooden rail on the fire escape. Something made you stop talking and before you could stop yourself, one hand was pushing one of the guys back into the storeroom, the other was grabbing the shirt that was already standing outside. Just as you did the rail slipped away, as if in slow motion, the three of you looking in fear as the heavy wood crashed twenty feet below onto the empty kegs that were stored beneath.

Speechless you stood there, fingers still curled around the shirt of one, hand splayed across the chest of the other;

“Fuck” you whispered quietly, not to anyone in particular.

“You could say that…”

-

Having made sure both cleaning guys were ok, if a little shaken up, you made them leave by the front door then considered your options. Dialling the boss you weren’t surprised to hear it ring out before going to voicemail. He had strict downtime rules, and was more than likely out on his ranch land taking care of his horses. Knowing he trusted you to make the right judgement, you scrolled through your numbers and dialled Marshall’s Property Maintenance;

“Marshall’s, what can i do for you?”

“Hi, i’m calling from Big G’s Sports Bar? We’ve just had the handrail fall off our fire escape. Wondering if you’ve got space to fix it this afternoon?”

There was a pause before you heard a long exhale of breath;

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in twenty minutes”

“Thanks Walter”

Hanging up you smiled. You’d worked with Walter when you’d been on the police force, you’d been a patrol cop that would assist with crime scene control and you’d been first on the scene for countless horrific acts of violence. One final call had given you PTSD so bad you’d resigned, finding a home in the small town of Blackwater Lake and a steady job at Big G’s Sports Bar. Your boss was the big quiet type, liked to spend more time out on his ranch with his horse, having enough trust in you to run the day to day operations of the bar as his assistant manager. 

-

It had been well past 9pm when Walter finished the repairs. Your boss had come in and helped him out when he’d got your text, leaving you in charge of the first few hours of opening. When the two men reappeared through the storeroom you smiled at them, getting ready for the evening handover before grabbing your coat and clocking off.

A few minutes later as you hopped off the last step of the fire escape onto the dandelion scattered gravel - your boss liked to let them grow - you smiled at Walter as he was loading his tools into his truck;

“Hey, thanks for today. Really saved our bacon… without the fire escape we wouldn’t be up to code so couldn’t have opened”

“S’ok. Glad you called” Walter admitted; “It’s been a while…”

Scuffing the gravel with your boot you swallowed the lump that was in your throat;

“How have you been? Since… ya know…”

“Alive. Wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t of been for you and your partner”

“We did what was needed… not every day you see va…” you stopped yourself, you still hadn’t completely come to terms with what you’d seen; “V...vagrants doing that… I’m just glad we got there in time…”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Walter rounded the truck and stood in front of you;

“Do you need a ride home? Your boss mentioned that you walk to work and you stayed late where he was helping me get this fixed”

“Thanks, that’d be nice”

-

Over the next few nights Walter would appear at the bar early evening, usually under the pretense of checking the work on the fire escape or dropping off the bill to the office, and you quickly clocked that he would always be leaving just as your shift was ending to conveniently give you a ride home. Not that you minded, the weather had turned unseasonably cool after the warmth of the parade weekend, so the casual conversation as he drove you home in the warmth of his giant truck was a good way to end the day. 

As he rolled into the parking lot behind your apartment complex you wondered if you should invite him in for a coffee, but weren’t sure if you were reading his intentions correctly. Gnawing on your lip you reached into your pocket for your keys, smiling at Walter as he pulled the truck to a stop;

“There we go, home sweet home. Have a good night”

“You too Walter”

Stepping out you smiled and gave him a little wave, knowing he waited until you had gotten into your building.

-

Watching you go Walter cursed himself. When Rachel had left he’d been in the dumps even more than usual, but over the last few days he’d taken a shine to you. He was pretty sure you had clued onto the fact that he had always turned up around the time of your shift finishing, but when he’d found out from Geralt that your car had died and you couldn’t afford to repair it, he didn’t like the thought of you walking home alone. Sure Blackwater Lake was a sleepy little town, but keeping in mind what lurked in the woods - both natural and supernatural - he felt better knowing you’d gotten home. He had been sure you were going to invite him in for coffee tonight, but he’d gotten butterflies in his stomach and had blurted out a farewell before you’d had the chance.

Looking up at your apartment he let out a sigh. 

Then… then something caught his eye. You hadn’t been in the building long enough for the shadow to be you, knowing you stopped to grab your mail each time you entered the building. Killing the engine he reached to the glove compartment for his gun - he still had a concealed carry permit - and raced to the building.

-

Juggling your mail and your purse, you held the letters in your mouth as you searched for the right key on your set when suddenly the sound of thundering footsteps made you spin around, your jaw dropping when you saw Walter appear from the staircase and running to your side. His hand was on your arm and he was pulling you to the side of your door before holding you to his chest;

“There’s someone in your apartment”

“What? No, i locked everything before i left… and there’s no sign of any damage to the door…”

Letting you go he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled for the sheriff, but as you listened in you could hear the volunteer dispatcher explain that both the Sheriff and the two deputies were out on the highway dealing with an 18 wheeler logging truck that had spun off on a bend. Walter cursed under his breath and hung up;

“Do you still carry?”

“No… not since…”

“Ok. Unlock the door and stay behind me”

The next minute seemed to last both seconds and hours, following Walter through your apartment until he silently pushed the bedroom door open with his gun;

“Freeze!”

The shape in the darkness didn’t move, and when you peered over Walters extended arm and you realised what he was looking at, you let out a sigh and flipped the lightswitch, the ‘threat’ suddenly illuminated and Walters shoulders dropping;

“Oh…”

Your spare uniform shirt was hanging on the frame to the window where you’d hung it earlier in the day so the sunshine would dry it. You let out a deep breath and laughed, resting your forehead against Walters shoulder;

“It’s just my uniform…” you hadn’t realised your voice was shaking until Walter turned and wrapped his arms around you

“I’m sorry i scared you”

Burying your face in the warmth of his sweater, your voice was muffled as you spoke;

“Its ok. I’d rather you have seen the mess in my apartment and saved me from an intruder than the alternative…” you smiled weakly at him, and it was then that the tension in the room was like static before a storm. Like the first lightning strike, when Walters lips touched yours it was as if electricity coursed through your veins, the kiss hungry and needy, contact between two touch starved people needing that connection. Your fingers curled in threads of his knitwear, pulling yourself closer as his arms wrapped around you and his hands splayed out over your ass, squeezing handfuls of flesh so he could pull you flush against his body. The kiss deepend and his tongue sought entrance between your lips which you eagerly granted. He tasted of coffee and peanut butter chocolate, and when he pulled away you were both gasping for breath.

“So, vampires do need oxygen then?”

“How do you…? How are you not scared?”

“Because i was there when it happened. And I've seen you hundreds of times since. I’ve seen you in the mirror, I've seen you outside in the sunshine, i’ve literally served you garlic bread…” you paused; “And i didn’t need to invite you in. Whatever myths are linked to your condition, i know the Walter behind them, i know the quiet and controlled Walter that assesses a situation and ensures everyone is safe…” you paused; “Because I know i’m safe with you”

Walter opened his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat caught the words. Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath as you gently held his face in your palms, your thumbs softly caressing the skin of his cheeks where his beard ended. You pressed your lips to his, and this kiss was different, this kiss was full of passion, of acceptance and the growing need that was blooming. 

Clothes were scattered as fingers and lips found each new patch of exposed skin, running your fingernails down his massive chest as you both fell to the bed, your fingers curling in the coarse hair that covered his chest before clutching at his belt as his teeth sharply ran over the line of your collarbone and you let out a gasp;

“More…”

“I… I’m not going to bite you…”

“I don’t want you to, but my neck is super sensitive, it's like my biggest turn on…”

At that moment Walter could feel the change, his eyes paling and his fangs growing more prominent as you watched from below him, but what he wasn’t expected was the groans that escaped your throat and the way your body shook;

“Did you just…?” he cocked an eyebrow, he already knew you’d just cum, but he wanted you to admit it.

“Yes, fuck yes, now i need more…”

With a growl he ducked his head down and peppered sharp kisses over your neck, hands working on each others jeans before you were able to kick them off. Your hands ducked into Walters pants and you grasped at his hard length, hot in your palm through his underwear;

“Oh fuck, you’re big…”

“Don’t worry, i’ll go slow… do you… do you have protection?”

“In the drawer”

He reluctantly pulled himself off the bed, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as he searched out the condoms, pulling the box out and swinging something else from his fingertips;

“These aren’t regulation edition”

The pink fluffy handcuffs had been a present a long time ago, and had somehow moved apartments with you;

“Next time…” you reached and grabbed them from him, tossing them aside before grabbing the box and a small foil packet, ripping it open with your teeth as Walter quickly shed himself of his boots and jeans, his dark boxers discarded as you reached for him and smoothed the latex over his fat dick.

He smoothed his hands down your legs, before tugging you down the bed and flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up until your ass was in the air. The rough brush of his beard against your soft inner thighs was quickly soothed by his tongue swiping a firm lick through your soaked folds. He took hold of your hips and you felt him move into position, the firm nudge at your entrance before with a low groan he speared you with the slow stretch of his girth.

“You feel so fucking good… so tight…”

Your fingers curled into the bedsheets and your jaw hung open, the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your veins felt like an elixir as Walter hammered into your tight velvet channel. The carnal slap of flesh on flesh resonating around the room, only joined by the breathless pants escaping your lips and the grunts Walter would let slip as he sought pleasure in your body with his own. He splayed his fingers over your back, running the palm of his hand up your spine until he was able to cup your neck and pull you up, flush with his heated body. His sharp teeth scraped over your neck, his beard rough against the etched skin;

“Look in the mirror. See how amazing you look”

Focusing your attention on the dresser mirror that stood in the corner, you watched as Walter continued to slowly rock his hips, fucking you slow and hard from behind. But it was his eyes that drew your attention, icy pools of white with deep obsidian pupils piercing the tundra, and the flash of danger from his sharp teeth at your neck, just catching on the skin as he spoke;

“You’re so fucking beautiful, dunno what i did to deserve you… will you cum for me?” he slid his hand down your stomach and in the patch of curls at the apex of your thighs, seeking out the sensitive pearl of your clit and rubbing the pad of his finger over it in firm circles; “Will you cum for me?” he repeated, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

“Yes… Walter, please…”

“What do you need…”

“My neck, please…”

Walter knew he couldn’t bite you, there were so many unknowns he’d never explored, but he closed his eyes and focused his energies on bringing you to completion. Thrusting his hips in time to the movement of his hand, whilst sucking a hickey onto your neck, knowing his teeth were rubbing against the skin but not breaking it. The triple stimuli sent you over the edge, your head rolling back onto his shoulder and your mouth open in a silent scream as you came so hard you saw stars, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as your walls gripped Walter tight, before with one final thrust you heard him growl as he came hard.

He held you for the longest time, your heart racing in your chest as echoes of your orgasm ricocheted through your body. As Walter started to soften you felt him hold the condom at the base of his shaft as he pulled out gently;

“Err… bathroom?”

“Just through there” you nodded to the door off of the bedroom as you fell to the bed, laying back with a smile on your face.

A few moments later he reappeared with a warm washcloth, first soothing your neck before tenderly attending to the mess between your thighs. After putting it back in the bathroom he appeared at the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans when you caught his wrist and pulled him onto the bed;

“You don’t need to go”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”

“Look, unless you’re going to turn into a bat or something, you’re fine… we can talk, order some takeout…”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled to his chest as he smiled sleepily;

“That sounds good. Can i take you out on a proper date at some point?”

“That’d be nice. Though our options are slim in this town, its only Sue’s Coffee Shop or Big-G’s Bar… unless you want to get a take-out pizza and sit outside on the kerb”

“I’ll cook, come to my place? What are you doing Friday night?”

“I’m off, but…”

“But?”

You felt your cheeks flushing with heat;

“I’m due on by the end of the week…”

“Oh. OH…” You looked up at Walter and saw a flush over his cheeks and his blue eyes glinting with excitement and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh… you’re into that?”

“You’re… not? Because i just want to say, i would happily give oral to my girl on her period even pre-vamp status…now its just…”

“A snack?”

He let out a low belly laugh;

“Yeah, you could say that”

Curling up to Walter’s chest you felt a sense of calm you hadn’t experienced for a very long time, the conversation flowing easily and long into the night, before you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

[tanadrin]

@butterflies-orgasms

Im in Love with your brain @tanadrin

I was in debate about this with someone on FB bc I dared to say "a historian said democracy is the exception and usually temporary with humanity almost inevitably returning to some for of authoritarian rule by an individual or select group (like the rich people oligarchy the US has now)  and he was like 'cite your sources'. Um....all of history, dude??? Like.

Anyway! So I'll ask you! What I tried to ask there.

@butterflies-orgasms

What do you think it is in human nature that causes us to be "made to be ruled"?

I mean I dispute your historical analysis. I don’t think democracies are any more inherently unstable than undemocratic forms of government; in fact, I think liberal democracies are more stable, once their institutions are well-developed, because a broader group of stakeholders is included and there are more ways exercise political power and to mediate disputes that don’t result in zero-sum fights to the death. The faction out of power can rest assured that it will have the opportunity to regain power eventually, and checks and balances mean the majority is unlikely to be able to totally destroy the opposition. Where democracies do fail, it’s because a faction that refuses the basic liberal bargain gets big enough to threaten it, or because its institutions are underdeveloped or nonexistent.

The United States is not an oligarchy by any reasonable definition of the term. In fact, it’s more democratic now than it has been at any point in its history. This doesn’t mean wealthy people don’t wield outsized political influence, or that there aren’t major changes you couldn’t make to make the US more democratic (and I would support that); nor does it mean that any or every liberal democracy is perfect and cannot be improved upon. But 158 million people voted in 2020, of every race and social class, out of 240 million eligible voters, and elections, however gerrymandered, still matter to the enactment of policy and control of the federal government. An oligarchy does not have near-universal adult suffrage!

And this gets to one of my pet peeves about rhetorical critiques of the US government by Americans: I know when people say “the US is an oligarchy” or “the US is an empire” or w/e what they often mean is “the US is more like this thing than you think it is; and we should work to make it less like that thing.” But people repeat these lazy slogans often enough until they come to believe them uncritically, and it’s like... okay, the US is not like the early modern Republic of Venice, where participation is de jure restricted to a handful of merchants and aristocrats! It’s not even like itself circa 1800, where only white men with property had the vote. It’s democratic in meaningful ways, and while it may be insufficiently democratic, claiming it is like something it is obviously not is kind of inane.

These hyperbolic cliches obscure important differences, which causes confusion when you try to analyze critical features of the systems you are discussing. I suspect that their primary function is to signal in-group affiliation in the context of political tribalism, but a disturbing number of people take them literally, which trips them up when they try to understand the actual political dysfunction at work. And if you can’t support your argument with anything more specific than a vague gesture at “all of history,” then you really have succumbed to fuzzy thinking. Because even a half-minute’s consideration should be enough to tell you that history is complex, there are many ways to interpret it, and the same approximate outline can yield support for almost any ideology depending on the framework through which you approach it.

I don’t think humans are “made to be ruled.” I think some degree of social hierarchy is inevitable for apes because of the way our cognition has evolved, but that doesn’t mean we’re doomed to authoritarian, or even strongly hierarchical political systems. It just means we tend to like attention and validation. No political system is particularly reflective of human nature, and naturalistic attempts to justify political hierarchy are no more well founded than naturalistic attempts to justify racial or gender hierarchies.