#or maybe just astonishingly low self worth

[whatarewedoingdude]

Just remembering when one of my friends said everyone (other friends in our group) missed me- since I had been either hanging out with only one friend or walking around at lunch instead of hanging out- and my brain literally shat itself because huh? What do you mean you miss me🧍what do you mean you noticed my absence and were upset by it? Genuinely thought people couldn't give less a shit about if I was around them or not cuz I thought I was an absolute drag to be around💀I still can't comprehend it tbh

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

My little Squeaky Toy Pt.4 (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Summary: Tom and you continue to text each other. And after a few weeks Tom comes up with a surprise and the dinner you still owe him.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: fluff, a tiny little bit of romance, mild swearing (not actually, there is like one swearword in the story), blushing, clumsiness, shy reader, slight angst, Tom Hiddleston is a ridiculous gentleman and sweetheart, sassy!Tom

Notes: (Y/C) = Your city             (Y/F) = your friend’s name             It took me longer than expected to edit it, I’m sorry for that. I just hope     you’ll enjoy it anyways.

Word Count: 2361

Requested by: @eye106

Previous Parts:  Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

A few weeks had passed since the meeting in the art gallery, and you had managed to write almost every day. You were surprised about how much the two of you talked when he found the time to call you. He used to ask you a lot of questions and you wondered if it wasn’t getting boring for him to hear your normal life stories. But he showed genuine interest and listened to your stuttering or the difficulties you had with your job. It was as if he wanted to know as much as possible about you and that somehow made you feel special in a way you had never felt before. The simplicity that lay between you and Tom when you talked or messaged each other managed to calm you down, even if it was just a little bit. It was astonishing, what Tom had already done to you.

After a good amount of phone calls, which had lasted at least three hours each, you had started to draw at the same time, because you somehow needed to keep your hands busy and some inspiration had struck you.

You were in the middle of painting again – your fingers full of black and grey colour – when your phone rang once again. It was placed right in front of you on the table of your living room, so you would never miss one of his messages or calls.

On the other hand, he seemed to arrange his phone calls always at times at which you were definitely at home and available. Could be coincidence, but you didn’t think so. He had been too obviously asking about your time schedule, your spare time and your weekends. Consequently, he knew exactly when you had time to talk and when not. That man was a miracle. He seemed to remember nearly everything that you had already told him. Sometimes catching you completely off guard with questions about topics you didn’t even recall talking about.

“Hello?” Trying to not sound too excited about his call didn’t quite work, but it had been worth a try.

“Did I interrupt something?” Came his answer almost instantly. His smooth, deep voice sounded a bit worried. “I would be terribly sorry if I did.”

Bastard, you thought, always with his friendliness and good manners, worrying and caring about everyone but himself.

“No. I’ve been painting until now, and needed to clean my hands, that’s why it took me a moment to answer.” Unable to suppress the smile that formed on your lips, you brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. Of course, you hadn’t actually cleaned your hands, but he didn’t have to know that you had nearly spent two minutes thinking about him before picking up the phone.

“Sorry. Shall I call again later?”

“NO!” Realizing that you had just screamed at him, you were quick to correct yourself. “I mean no, it’s fine. You couldn’t have known what I’m doing right now. Thank you for calling.” You rambled a bit but didn’t care about it. Tom had already witnessed so much since you two had met. Your blushing, the squeaky toy, cursing and following squeaking, your endless stuttering. He was a very patient and kind man. Everyone you had met before had – at one point – turned their back on you. Besides your friends, obviously. But you preferred to keep your circle of friends relatively small.

You heard him chuckle and immediately longed to see his face.

“It’s good to hear that I’m not the only one enjoying our little phone sessions.”

You felt yourself blush. Tom hadn’t said something like that before, you had simply assumed that he had to like it because he had been the one to always call you.

“How has your day been so far, darling?”

Darling, you knew he called literally everyone darling, but somehow you liked the way he pronounced it when he was talking to you.

“Good, thank you. Work was a bit stressful as always, but everything has been just fine until you called.”

“How am I supposed to understand this?” He mocked gently, obviously not in the intent to annoy or embarrass you. Just childish, but sort of adorable, joking around.

“That depends on your interpretation of it.” You teased, but seconds later you were already worrying about what you had just said.

“Huh, cheeky today.” You didn’t miss the amused tone in his voice. So he wasn’t angry or upset, good to know.

“No, that’s not-! I just….!” You felt your face flushing and internally thanked god that you were just talking and not seeing each other. The sweet and deep chuckle on the other side of the line startled you out of your slight daze.

“Don’t worry, calm down, darling.” The low tone sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s adorable.”

“Yeah, sure it is.” That you sounded that devastated hadn’t been the plan, but well, now you would have to go with it.

“No need to be so self-contemptuous.” It sounded as if he wanted to say something else but he kept quiet, giving you the chance to speak again.

“So how has your day been? We have just talked about my day so far.” Somehow that sentence just made you feel even more selfish than before.

“Well, you didn’t tell me anything specific, to be honest. So, I wouldn’t count that as <just talked about you>.”

You would have punched him if there hadn’t been a distance of more than just a few miles between you and if he hadn’t sounded that cute while talking.

“I told you that I’m painting.” You bit your lip, not wanting to tell him what exactly you had talked about with (Y/F) during your lunch break. There was absolutely no need to talk with him about something so embarrassing. And wouldn’t he feel awkward, too?

“Tell me about your day, please?” It was not meant to be a distraction, you were truly interested in his days. Perhaps one of the reasons was that in his life just basically happened more than in your plain and boring one. And of course, you cared. The first time you had talked on the phone, you had forgotten to ask him how he was and had felt tremendously guilty afterwards. And worried, too.

“Luke and I started planning the coming weeks, I read through a few scripts. Nothing astonishingly new.” You could swear you heard him sigh in…exhaustion? You had never heard such a strained exhale coming from him.

“What’s wrong? You seem a bit off?”

“Nothing is wrong. Thank you, darling, for worrying.” He was smiling, you could hear that. It eased a bit of the sudden concern that you had been overcome with.

“Uhm… but if you really want to know…” He laughed his sweet and unique laugh with a slight hint of bashfulness in his tone. “There is something I want to ask you.”

Something he wanted to ask you, your brain repeated. That could be basically everything. Something bad as well as something good. Perhaps he had rethought his decision to have given you his number. Or worse, he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

“I’m around (Y/C) at the moment and thought we could catch up on our dinner. That is, only if you want to, of course.”

You nearly messed up your painting, completely shocked and startled, not even able to answer him.

“Darling? Are you okay?” Did he really ask you that? After he had just told you that he was probably in your city, as if it was nothing?

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re already here?” The sound of your voice was close to that of your squeaky toy and instantly you felt yourself flush all over.

“I’m…” He seemed to be speechless for a brief instant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was supposed to be a surprise. I should have told you. I’m so sorry.”

The moment he said that, you felt a pang of guilt in your chest. “No I didn’t mean to – I was just surprised to hear that you’re here.” You hurried to say , the painting in front of you forgotten for a moment. Before you picked up your phone to press it against your ear, you wiped the paint off, using your pants for that. Maybe that hadn’t been a wise choice, but there hadn’t been anything else in reach at that moment. Now there were black and purple stripes all over your thighs.

“It’s been quite spontaneous. I didn’t want to get you involved if they hadn’t wanted to shoot the scenes here.”

How sweet of him, you thought abashed.

“What are you shooting for?”

There was a short, but amused, laugh on the other side of the line. “I can’t possibly tell you that.”

As you sighed disappointed, Tom chuckled softly.

“What about our dinner now, darling? You didn’t answer my question. We could finally see each other again, plus I could make up for having kept you waiting for so long.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, you could feel the heat rush into your cheeks and spread all the way to your ears.

“So, what do you say?” His tender voice startled you out of the sort of trance you had been in for a few seconds.

“We could go out tomorrow. Of course, that’s really at short notice, I know. It’s completely okay, therefore, when you don’t want to see me tomorrow.” He rambled a bit, but that couldn’t possibly annoy you when he was just being adorable. He could ramble on for hours and you would still hang on his lips, hungry for every word that left them. Everything on and about that man was so breathtakingly beautiful.

“I’m terribly sorry. Did I upset you?”

“No, you didn’t. You just… caught me off guard.” Being honest about your feelings seemed so much easier when you were talking to Tom. “And yes, of course. I’d love…” You had to pause to gather yourself. “I’d love to go out with you tomorrow.”

“You’re lovely. Thank you.”

The following short moment of silence, you used to put the phone down and recollect yourself enough to start painting again.

“I saw an Italian restaurant yesterday. What do you think?”

“Oh my god I love pasta!” Your joyous cheer was rewarded with his typical and oh so sweet laughter.

“I guess that was a yes then?”

“Yes, it is! When are you done shooting tomorrow?”

“At five. I would suggest you give me your address and I pick you up at seven?” There was definitely a hint of mischief in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes, that’s a good time.” You gave him your address, waited patiently for him to scribble it down and told him to use google maps or another navigation system, because there was literally no reasonable street system in (Y/C). Tom and you talked for the rest of the evening, covering a lot of serious and a lot of absolutely silly topics, but you laughed a lot, enjoying the deep rumble of his voice when he joined in.

The next day went by too quickly. You had had barely time to think about the coming evening until you stood in front of your apartment, unlocking the door and dropping your bag and jacket to the floor to rush straight into the bathroom. The shower came first, then the make-up – you went for eyeliner and mascara, that should be enough – and after you had finished all of that plus your hair, you stood in front of your closet and were faced with the next problem. What should you wear? What were you supposed to wear on your first date? You rummaged through your wardrobe, pulled out three dresses and tried them on. Of course, you could easily go with trousers and a nice blouse, but you felt more drawn to wearing a dress.

In the end, you chose the dark blue one with long sleeves and a wide skirt that just reached your knees. It didn’t look fancy, but it wasn’t boring at all. In fact, It was quite elegant and playful at once. That was, why you liked it that much.

You quickly dressed up and hurried into your living room. Half an hour and Tom would arrive to pick you up. Only 30 minutes until you would finally see him again.

The painting you had finished the previous day, during Tom’s and your nearly four hours long telephone call, lay on the table where you had left it. You knew exactly what you were going to do with it. Especially, after you had realized that the human face, that you had wanted to draw, had turned out to be that of Tom. A face painted with rough strokes, your fingers and only three colours: black, grey and purple. You had varied the shades of each colour, but all in all it was pretty colourless.

Carefully, you placed the painting in an envelope, so it couldn’t (hopefully) be damaged, and put it into your small handbag, not wanting to give it to Tom immediately. After all, you had worked for a few weeks on that.

You sat down and thumbed through a magazine, while you were still waiting. Too nervous to focus on anything, let alone read an article or do something effectively.

When the doorbell rang, you took a deep breath, flattened the skirt of your dress and stood up. But before you went to open the door, you hastily stuffed your little squeaky toy into your handbag. Now you were ready.

Perhaps you opened way too fast, or maybe you were just clumsy, but you found yourself in Tom’s arms, after you had stumbled and tripped over your own feet. His warm, strong arms were tightly wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest.

God, he smelled so good.

“Actually, I wanted to compliment you because you’re looking absolutely ravishing, but that’s okay too.”

You blushed and hid your face on his chest.

Oh no. What had you just done?

Tag List: @fiammablade3466 @zainab2 @the-lululemon @superanimenatural @blackirisposts @thejemersoninferno @nwmtagsb @signalnotfound0 @emyhonny @gallifreyanninja @kimanne723 @alexakeyloveloki @spookycatqueen @disneyoncerlover815 @aaminah12 @mrshiddleston-uk @loobnknoob @lykaonimagines @caticorndancingonpainbows @finney13s @alexxandra-the-great @zombiebunny97 @sarahivi @michellearel1 @mylovelycrazyworld @karnita-mexicana @kinghiddlestonanddixon @clarakainda @serkewen12 @noambitions-blog @isaacunderground @jennytwoshoes 

[only-sunday]

Im going to try and start positive. Honestly I've tried to start a blog of some sort so many different times and its never really worked out but I'm all for some positive affirmations and my therapist is always saying that I should stop always focusing on the things I do wrong so I'm going to think of all my other blog starting posts as practices for this really amazing and cool new one that I'm starting right now. So let me start again and give an intro real quick.. 

Hello! welcome to my BRAND NEW blog! Okay, great, done. 

This is one of the few non-work/university related hobbies I'm testing out in an attempt to give my mental health a little boost and keep my brain functioning semi normally. One of the ways I keep my brain from totally exploding is writing its entire contents onto paper or into a computer journal. I find this helps calm the noise inside my busy, chemically imbalanced brain and acts as a relief system. It also creates a  good ‘user manual’ to take into my therapy sessions instead of paying hundreds of dollars to sit in uncomfortable silence and, on a more positive note I guess, it helps me keep memories. Remembering certain days, certain feelings or life stages, even tracking well-being & general mental health improvement is something I find easy when I'm writing it all down. Now obviously I'm not going to be sharing all of those journal entires on a super public internet forum for the entire world to see because I don't really think that leaking my naked vulnerability is going to give me the same success in return as it did for Kim K and Ray J so I'm going to stick the the rules of “some things are better left unsaid.. or just not leaked on porn sights specifically for riches and world domination”. No judgment Kimmy.  Instead this is where I'll post my more PG stream of consciousness along with some pictures of things I like, videos of things I've done and thoughts I wish to share. I want to document my other de-depression-ing hobbies that I'm trying to include into my life as well as finally fulfilling my dreams of being a real life blogger and posting my outfits, my outings and my reviews of things. All while simultaneously improving my astonishingly low self-confidence (because to-be-fucking-honest I'm getting a little sick of not doing all the things I reeeeeeally wanna do thanks to that bullshit little dude named “self-esteem”. fuck that guy he SUCKS).  My girlfriend and I recently started a youtube channel, thanks to her beautiful friend Hannah, which started out as a joke but has actually turned into a fun little hobby for us. I like the process of filming for memory-keeping purposes but the actual editing and fine tuning of the video itself is what's most fun for me. I have no idea what I'm doing the whole time, so the challenge combined with creative energy required is a really good source of good timey feels for me- thus the basis of this blog. With working almost full-time and studying 2 degrees at university, its hard to have full days of film worthy content, which means my new and beloved vlogging hobby is now taking weeks to have a video worth posting. So I thought why not get back into blogging where I can post texts and some pictures that require a little less time, a little less editing and can help my general well-being in the process. Great idea right?! yeah duh of course!  Now here's the thing. I, just like my split in-half bi-polar brain, like to split my year into two different seasons. The first half- the shit half- is January through July (more mid July-ish I guess, depending on the whole mercury/retrograde thing) is when I'm experiencing what I call my “growing pains”. Its the part of the year that I feel moves the quickest and is usually filled with lost of sadness and tears and not a whole lot to look forward to. I hate this part of the year. But then come Leo Season. Now I'm not super into/knowledgeable of astrology etc but I do absolutely, without a doubt feel a change when Leo Season hits. And it hits hard. My self confidence is suddenly through the roof, I feel so much happier and more excited and I start to get really excited for all the good events coming up for the rest of the year. Now I'm not trying to totally discount my mental health here. I still have my MASSIVE downs and up, I still need to go to therapy and do all my other things I do to stay alive but there is a general change in who I am. My super confident, all-pink-everything, 80s loving alter ego comes out and she tends to sick around for the rest of the year while really kicking my years 2nd season off with a bang. Then following that comes, Halloween (a real favourite of mine), my anniversaries, thanksgiving (big celebration in my house hold), end of year uni celebrations, the almightily Christmas which tbh I love so much I can't even get into it in this post and then finally New Years. And as much as I really prefer winter over summer, there really is something about summer holidays that a love so much. Everyone is always getting together with other people to have fun and celebrate something, there's always lots of laughing, lots of alcohol, and pretty much no-one wants to do nothing every cause we’re all just on one big summer vacation despite all still going to our full time jobs everyday. This 2nd season of the year truly is the best. So all pf these feel good things to look forward to are something that's most definitely going to contribute to my postings.  Along with all of this I'm going to post some food recipes, some currently reading & book reviews, my YouTube videos, my outfits, my attempts to create a more eco-sustainable household, my little garden that I'm going to start soon, some photos that make me happy and my thoughts that I need to get off my chest. 

So I’m going to try and stay positive because honestly I've tried to start a blog of some sort so many different times and its never really worked out but I really feel that maybe this time could be a little bit different. I guess we’ll just have to see what happens. 

[sonderlivra]

Eruri Valentine’s Weekend 2k18 Collab with the lovely @autiacorart !!!

A late submission, but hopefully worth the wait! :) It was a blast working with such a talented artist! <3

Blackout Café - A Modern Eruri AU

Summary: Levi is a grumpy dork. Erwin is a sappy dork. Basically they’re both dorks. And they meet at a coffeeshop.

Warning: Swearing ahead, oops.

“Fucking shit,” Levi swears, hurrying down the street. A power cut. Who the fuck expects a power cut in this day and age?

He is still grumbling when he bursts into the coffeeshop, looking around a little wildly for the electric socket.

“Fuck,” he swears again. He had forgotten that this was one of the smaller, less pretentious coffeeshops. It was why he liked the place, but right now, he wishes he was somewhere else, anywhere else that has better aids for his dying laptop.

But there is just one table next to a socket and that happens to be occupied, and he doesn't know if he can make it to another coffeeshop in time. Fuming, he stomps over to the counter.

“I need to charge my laptop.”

“Oh we can charge it here for you sir-”

“I need to work.”

The employee pales. “Um, I'm sorry sir, but that table is the only one-”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he snaps. He considers stepping on the other side of the counter where he could work next to the socket. It sounds unappealing and embarrassing and Levi glances back at the table. The man sitting there is casually reading something, the electric socket empty.

Bastard isn't even using it.

Squaring himself, Levi approaches the table, his mouth filling up with several gruff phrases that have worked for him before. When he reaches the table, the blond man, who has his head bent down over an unmarked bound book, looks up -and Levi freezes.

Holy shit. Levi is suddenly at a loss for words. This guy is hot.

His bright blue eyes are wide with curiosity and he smiles a polite smile as he says, “Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Levi manages to rasp and gestures at the electric socket next to the table. “I need that.”

The man glances at the wall and turns back to Levi, his smile widening. “Oh, by all means. Please, have a seat.”

Levi's brain short circuits again. What he meant was to ask the man to take another table, since there were quite a few empty ones around. But no. Mr. Handsome-Lawyer-Guy had to go and assume Levi wanted to share this table. Which he didn't, whether or not this man looked like an artist's rendition of fucking Apollo.

But his laptop​ beeps another “low battery” warning and Levi decides he doesn't care either way. With a grunt of gratitude, he plugs in his charger and slips into the chair opposite the man, resolutely keeping his eyes trained on the laptop screen.

With a deep breath and a mental command to fucking get a grip of himself, Levi pulls up the chat conversation and pings his client.

Sorry for the delay, Karl. I'm back.

The exchange goes on for longer than expected, with Levi having to upload and send a few of his drafts over the coffeeshop's slow WiFi. When he finally closes the conversation and leans back with a sigh, a low voice startles him by saying, “Busy day?”

Levi opens his eyes and blinks at the blond man: there is no mistaking that it was indeed him that spoke. His astonishingly blue eyes are still widened with interest, his firm mouth still has that polite, easygoing smile that -shit, the man has actual dimples. How the fuck is he even real?

“Uh, yeah.” Levi says, remembering that he was asked a question.

The man throws up a magnificent eyebrow. “Even on a Saturday?”

“Especially on a Saturday. Field day for freelancers.”

“Oh. I see.” He nods so understandingly Levi wonders if his earlier estimation was wrong, whether this man is not a lawyer but a shrink of some sort. Ew.

Again, the man's smile widens unexpectedly. “I'm Erwin,” he says, and offers Levi his hand. Levi takes it almost suspiciously. “Levi,” he mutters.

“An uncommon name,” the man says, eyes gleaming.

“As is yours,” Levi points out.

The man -Erwin -grins at that, showing a flash of neat, white teeth. “True.” He pauses, then continues, “By the way, are you staying? I'm going to go get myself another coffee.”

Levi hesitates. He really has no other plans, except for going back to the drawing board for Karl for the tiresome client. But he can spare a half hour, at the very least. Erwin is intriguing, and he would not mind getting to know him more. And maybe even get his phone number…

No. Levi is shocked at himself. He has never been this interested, this forward, to use Kenny's antiquated term, with anyone. His romantic track record is littered with casual flings and half-hearted attempts, and after Farlan, his record has been conspicuously empty for a long time. Is he really, finally getting out of that slump?

“Levi?” Erwin says softly, and he is brought crashing back to the present.

“Sorry.” He blinks and shakes his head. “I was trying to figure out my schedule. Yeah, I can stay for a bit.”

“Excellent.” The man beams at him and Levi feels another burst of indignance at his attractiveness. “What's your poison?”

Levi snorts. “I can get my own order.”

Erwin shakes his head. “I'm getting up anyway.”

Levi shrugs. “Oolong tea.”

Erwin’s smile falters.

“What?”

“You're ordering tea. At a coffeeshop.”

Levi raises his eyebrow. “So?”

Erwin recovers admirably and shakes his head. “Nothing. I should remember not to make assumptions too fast.”

“Meaning?”

Erwin laughs and Levi can't help but notice he looks a little flustered. “I was trying to guess what sort of coffee you'd drink,” he admits. “Sorry, it was presumptuous of me.”

Levi waves away the apology, interested. “So what do you think I drink?”

“Black.”

Levi snorts. “I drink it black when I do drink coffee so you're not half wrong.”

“Good to know. Well, I'll be back in a minute,” Erwin nods cheerfully and walks over to the counter. Levi quickly takes the opportunity to check out his appearance in the laptop screen, making sure his hair isn't too ruffled or that there isn't anything stuck between his teeth. When he is done with that, he sneaks glances at the counter over the top of his laptop. Erwin is massive: tall and powerfully built, he looks like he spends his free time pressing weights at the gym.

Damn.

Levi quickly switches to his phone and pretends to be browsing it when Erwin returns to the table. He places Levi's drink down with unnecessary grace before taking his earlier seat.

“Thanks,” Levi grunts, to which Erwin responds with another smile. “My pleasure.”

Ugh. Does he ever not smile?

They take a few sips of their drinks in silence, before Erwin thankfully breaks it. “So what sort of freelancing do you do, Levi?”

“I'm an architect.”

“Really?” Erwin looks inordinately interested. “Sounds glamorous.”

Levi can't help it, he lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, right. It basically involves drawing lines all day.”

“I'm sure there's more to it,” Erwin insists, leaning forward. “As far as I'm concerned, it's art.”

The statement endears Erwin to him, but he shakes his head. “There are some of us who would take offense at that. The drawing process is very precise and even scientific.”

Erwin waves his hand. “Of course, I understand that. But would calling it an art undermine its value?”

“In my eyes, no.” Levi admits. “But I draw for a hobby and maybe that makes me biased.”

“Did you draw that?” Erwin asks, his eyes gleaming. Levi looks down at his left arm, where most of his tattoo is peeking below the sleeve of his t-shirt. When Levi nods, Erwin hesitates and asks, “May I…?”

Levi can't help but feel a little self-conscious as he tugs up the sleeve. He's been asked this a dozen times before, so the request isn't exactly new. However, this is Erwin he's showing it to. Erwin, the real-life model, the hunk, the first man he has been genuinely interested in for years now. He remembers that this intense, insane pressure is why he hated dating to begin with.

Erwin’s eyes trace the rose curling down his arm, its vines twisting around a plain, sharp sword. It is filled with simple colours, the lines are basic, and the personal sentiment is evident only to him. He wonders what Erwin thinks of it.

“Stunning,” Erwin murmurs, and Levi hurriedly sips some tea to hide the heat in his cheeks.

“Thanks,” he mutters when he feels it is safe to show his face again. “It's my early work, though.”

“It's… absolutely perfect,” Erwin says, his voice still low.

That seems to break the spell, and Levi snorts. “What, really? ‘Perfection’ is a myth.”

“Perfection is subjective,” Erwin corrects him, that curious gleam still in his eyes. “Much like art.”

To that he has nothing to say. Meanwhile Erwin digs in his pockets and pulls out a surprisingly worn leather wallet. He plucks out a card and says, “Maybe this will substantiate my words. I'm an editor at a publishing house.” Levi takes the card, his heart thudding. “Maybe you've heard of us?”

Wings of Freedom Press. Levi has heard of them: an old company, going back decades, but not one of the big names. The title under the neat “Erwin Smith” simply says 'Editor’.

“I've heard of you,” Levi confirms. His chest is feeling more and more hollow with every passing second and the reason makes itself known with Erwin's next words.

“When I say 'perfect’ I mean it's exactly what I've had in mind for our next publication. We've been looking for an illustrator, and, at the risk of repeating myself, your art would be perfect for the book.”

A business proposition was all Erwin had in mind, nothing more. Levi feels like he could kick himself in the ass all the way home, the physical impossibility of it be damned.

“You just saw my tattoo. That's enough for you to make a decision?” He asks, stalling. Though the attraction is clearly one-sided, Levi feels resentful and badly wants to decline the offer. He only hesitates because this offer could be lucrative in the long run.

Just that, of course. No other reason.

“Art styles change over the years but remain, in essence, the same. I -let’s just say I have a good feeling about this.” Erwin says smoothly. “I can only say so much, but I urge you to consider it. I think you'll like what we can offer to you, and we would be thrilled to have you as a part of the team.”

“I already have a client.”

“Of course. If it doesn't take more than two months of your time to finish your contract with your current client, the offer is still open.”

Karl and his problematic specifications would be gone in two weeks at the most. That left him with little to no excuses for refusing Erwin.

“I understand that this is unconventional,” Erwin goes on, seemingly unaware of Levi's growing antipathy. “You can, of course, email me a portfolio of a few select works. We should be able to draw up a formal offer soon enough.”

Levi grits his teeth, still fingering the card. He wants to ask if he would have to work closely with Erwin but can't bring himself to say it. He doesn't know what he wants the answer to be, in any case.

“I'll think about it,” he manages finally. He doesn't want to make a choice now, when his emotions are all in a fucking mess, and regret it later.

Erwin suddenly seems to realise that he is sitting with a stranger in a coffeeshop. “Fair enough.” He swigs down the rest of his coffee and says, a little nervously, “I'm sorry if I came on too strong. I just -am very impressed by your skills and wouldn't want to pass up the opportunity to work with you.”

Stop. Just fucking stop. Levi wants to scream at the man, but he knows it is immature and unfair of him. Erwin wasn't flirting with him in the slightest, he sees that now. On the other hand, Erwin does seem genuinely impressed, and how can Levi blame him if he sees a business opportunity in that?

“Right.” Levi finds his teacup empty, and stands up. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Oh. You're welcome.” Surprised, Erwin stands up, too.

Levi hesitates, then offers him his hand. “Nice talking to you.”

Erwin’s face is almost unrecognisable, a stiff, polite mask. “And you.”

With a small, final nod, Levi gathers up his laptop and charger, and marches away. When he steps into the street, he stops for a moment, trying to remember if he's run out of cigarettes at home.

“Levi!” The coffeeshop's doors swing open behind him and Erwin strides out. “I forgot -is there any way I can contact you?”

Too surprised by Erwin's sudden reappearance, Levi nods. “Uh, yeah. Hang on.” He gropes in his pocket and finds his card case. Plucking one out, he hands it to Erwin, who squints at it as though it holds very important instructions. “And… this is your personal phone?”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“Then, would it be alright if I contacted you on this number? Outside of work?”

Levi stares at him for the full moment it takes him to realise what Erwin is implying. “Are you asking me out?” He asks him point-blank.

A now-familiar smile spreads on Erwin's face. “Yes, I am.”

Levi's heart is thudding erratically again, the hollowness from before replaced by so much warmth he feels like he could melt right there on Erwin's dress shoes. (And who the fuck wears dress shoes on a Saturday?)

“Wow,” he comments. “You hire people better than you ask them out.”

Erwin chuckles and Levi notices the slightly pink hue of his cheeks. Is Erwin Smith, the real-life model, the hunk, blushing? Well, damn.

“I'm a little rusty,” Erwin admits. “And a lot more used to hiring people.”

“Clearly.”

“So, is that a yes?”

Levi gives him a contemplative look, taking in the deep blue eyes, and the strong shoulders, and the trim waist. “It's a maybe,” he begins, and does not miss the disappointed flash in his eyes before finishing his sentence, “for the illustration gig. You can definitely buy me another drink.”

Erwin’s face lights up so quickly Levi nearly laughs. The man is like a fucking Labrador. “I'll text you, then.”

“Perfect.” Levi throws him a last smirk before walking away, fighting the urge to skip like a demented child, the expression on Erwin's face bringing an unnaturally sunny smile on his own.

Power cuts, Levi decides, are really fucking underrated.

A/N: My knowledge of architects and their work is very, very basic. Hopefully I haven’t misrepresented you guys!

Thanks again @autiacorart for so beautifully capturing the essence of my story in your art! And thank you all for reading!

[gascon-en-exil]

Not sure if I’m too late, but D, K, L, S for the ask meme?

D. A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

Any of the popular HP slash ships or…anything about or in Supernatural or Teen Wolf, because they have a ton of content and at least some of it is bound to be worth enjoying. For fandoms I’m genuinely active in, Ike/Soren.

K. What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

I’m not sure if you could call it an arc per se as she enters the story fully-formed and only faces her downfall at the very end, but there’s a reason I often bring up la marquise de Merteuil from Les Liaisons dangereuses on favorite character lists.She’s unquestionably a horrible person and is in fact one of the classic literary villain protagonists (one who predates the more popular Byronic antihero archetype, no less), but even if most of her backstory is contained in one lengthy letter halfway through the novel it’s still a powerful bit of exposition. Merteuil grew up sharply conscious of the restrictions placed on her by a patriarchal society that thrived on sexual intrigue even as it afforded women substantially less leeway than men to conduct their social-climbing manipulations in the open. She’s fully aware that everyone underestimates her because of her sex and her carefully cultivated reputation for austerity and respectability, and she exploits this fact to perpetrate some truly heinous acts for astonishingly petty reasons. It’s an 18th century conceptualization of feminism twisted and turned self-serving, and that she’s clearly aware of what she’s doing makes her both more awful and more worthy of respect both from her confederate and former lover and from the reader. I’m glad that most adaptations scrap some of the novel’s more excessive punishments for her in the end - ex. contracting smallpox and losing all of her money in a lawsuit unrelated to the plot - because by far her most earned punishment is the social one, the one directly tied to her actions throughout the story.

L. Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)

Tressa from Octopath Traveler is shaping up to the playable character in which I’m least interested, but she has a fun earnestness to her that makes her hard to actively dislike. I also appreciate that, for now at least, her storyline has low stakes compared to almost everyone else, because it makes for a change of pace from the more dramatic or angst-laden plots.

S. Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

I’m not the only person who ships Forsyth/Python/Lukas from FE15 as an OT3, but in my case I imagine it as a slowly developing thing where Forsyth is making regular visits to Python out in the field and stuff happens (probably as an extension of stuff that was already happening before the game, let’s be honest) while at the same time Forsyth is getting to know Lukas better back at the capital. Forsyth would probably be incredibly guilty about feeling like he’s carrying on two separate relationships, but at one point Python will casually drop that he’s into Lukas too and that they should all just shack up when circumstances permit. They eventually end up doing so and it’s all very cluttered but somehow works with lots of cuddling (Python likes it though he’d never admit it) and lots of sex between Forsyth and Python with Lukas watching sometimes and maybe joining in to whatever extent he feels like because his two companions are just so welcoming. Eventually he barely spares a thought for what he might have had with Clive.

[allthebest20]

Search Party: S1 (2016)

Created by Sarah-Violet Bliss, Charles Rogers, Michael Showalter

Starring  Alia Shawkat and John Reynolds

This show was funny, enjoyable, and clever.  I would give it a 6/10. I think Shawkat is a great actor, but she always plays characters that are, like, annoyingly realistic.  Actually, in this show, they are all annoying realistic.  Each of the four main characters remind me of real people I know and dislike.  This is one of the things that makes it so good, tho!  I have two complaints about the plot:

Warning: Spoilers

1. New York City has over 8 million people in it, so it’s just not realistic that they keep running into people they know over this two week period.  I feel like they should have set the show in a slightly smaller city.  I mean most cities could meet all the plot requirements: a market for weird demi-sexual performances, P.I.s, families with a ridiculous amounts of money, culty art stores, opportunities for actors and self-promoting non-profits.

2. why doesn’t Agnes Cho tell Chantal’s family about where she is?  I mean, maybe she thought Chantal needed protection, but how can you watch someone’s family grieve like that and say nothing?  It’s obvious that Agnes wants money too, and she could have collected the reward of a quarter of a million.

It was the character comedy that made the show enjoyable tho, and the season finale is very realistic and unexpected.

John Early plays the amoral white cis gay man we all know.  The way he conducts himself in conversation is so on point. Unlike a narcissistic straight dude who typically talks only about himself, Early’s character Elliott does a great job at pretending like he cares about what you’re saying, but is actually judging you and manipulating the conversation to get something he wants.  His whole cancer lie is funny, but a side plot I didn’t personally care that much about.  I mean, it doesn’t really make sense (he has no contacts from high school anymore? what about social media? photos?), but it is funny how he bounces back so effortlessly.  It seems to be a critique of cancel culture, especially how even when he’s briefly “cancelled,” he doesn’t actually feel any shame or change in anyway.  As a rich, white man, he still has a network willing to prop him up with a book deal, and he ultimately pays no consequences.  Of course, all this sets him up as the perfect little psychopath to help cover up a murder.  It also sets up a lot of funny moments. 

Portia, played by the super hot Meredith Hagner, is the theater kid who you didn’t really like, even though she was really nice, and now she’s going on to have a successful acting career on top of her family’s wealth.  Like most Americans, I want my actors (and artists in general) to be poor and struggling before they make it big, but that’s rarely the case.  I like how her character isn’t just dumb, sweet, or spoiled.  She’s sometimes also clever, cold, and sad.  She plays the insecure, image-obsessed millennial well.  It’s almost easier for her to be a narcissist than Elliot, because we expect hot blonde actors to be narcissists, so she doesn’t have to play a role the same way he does.  Of course, her character also fits into the plot perfectly: the hot lady who men drool over and everyone underestimates, who can also use her acting skills to lie and manipulate people.

John Reynolds’ character, Drew, is your classic boring-ass white man.  He wants things to be normal and mundane so bad.  He has boring friends, he says boring things, he has a boring job.  He’s a good guy, a cutie, but dam, if he isn’t somewhere below average.  I love how Drew is an UNPAID intern, and Dory and him live in a beautiful one bedroom apartment.  It just screams “My parents pay my bills, but I don’t like to talk about it.”

Alia Shawkat plays the lead, Dory.  I love the way they use music to show how she is creating this runaway mystery in her head, but it’s often ruined by outsiders dialogue.  As a young millennial trying to find a satisfying career, I can identify with the mania she’s feeling, and it’s shown well. She’s constantly thinking “Is this a sign?” and “What should I be doing with my life?”  Her character is really hard to read in the first season: why does she want to find Chantal?  Is she trying too hard to create a dark mystery because she hates her own boring life? By the end of the season, I was beginning to think that maybe Chantal wasn’t in real trouble, but TV-bias did have me thinking something twisted was going to happen.  I’m also not sure why Dory couldn’t go to Montreal alone or just with Drew, when it was clear her friends weren’t that into it.  I do understand wanting desperately to know the truth.

The next two season’s explore Dory’s motives more, but I honestly wouldn’t strongly recommend them.  Season two and three were both kind of anxiety producing: four cocky idiots trying to get a way with a murder in which they left behind a mountain of evidence, resulting in (SPOILER) Dory stupidly refusing to plead guilty and claim it was self-defense.  It’s like despite everything, she still thinks she’ll get away with it OR (more likely) she just can’t come to terms with herself as a murderer.

They obviously should have called the cops after they killed Keith.  As two educated white kids, they could have gotten away with it, even lied about the altercation to make it seem like Keith was more violent than he was.  Elliot makes her second guess whether is was self-defense or not, even though Keith had been acting extremely sketchily towards her.  Obviously, he didn’t deserve to die, but someone had to do something to get him off her.  Ultimately, they all decide they are above the justice system, but I think Elliot is a little more to blame.  The justice system is fucked, but not necessarily against them.  If they had called the police immediately, they might have had to spend a few years (research tells me 0 to 12 before parole, average 3 to 5) in Canadian prison, but a man is dead, so maybe that’s okay.

It’s also worth mentioning Clare McNulty, although she’s really only in the last episode.  Her character, Chantal, is hilariously normal: that girl who is so average looking and untalented, you think, well she must at least be friendly and humble, but astonishingly, she’s neither of those things.  So often, TV shows only portray special characters, but like most of the characters in this show, Chantal is annoyingly normal and familiar.  Her very existence reminds me of the assumptions we (or is it just me?) make about women’s confidence and morality levels.

It’s a funny show, relatable, realistic, and entertaining.  I would recommend the first season, and the next 2 only if you are bored and have low-anxiety.  I also just learned that Bowen Yang does a podcast about the show? I love him, so obviously I’ll give it a listen, though I can’t possible imagine what he could be saying about it.

[thesinglesjukebox]

KASHER QUON FT. TEEJAYX6 - DYNAMIC DUO

[6.27]

By our own popular demand!

Ian Mathers: I cannot wait for the blurb here that's going to explain to me why this whole thing just feels off to me, because god knows I don't have the background knowledge or vocabulary for it. In the meantime it mostly just reminds me of After Last Season. I love After Last Season. [7]

Andy Hutchins: Indebted to the long-running tradition of paranoiac rap and strides made more recently by fellow Michigander Tee Grizzley's relentless flows spilling over at bar's end, Kasher Quon and Teejayx6 embark on an instantly legendary cataloging of what being young, dumb, and so full of ways to hustle and scam sounds like in 2019. Dish detergent as a lean ingredient? Sure. Scamming your own nephew(s) with fake Js and/or fraudulent iPhone purchases? Sure. The endgame here is admirably low-budget, too: Flying Spirit is not even close to enviable. "I just went to Walmart, and I tore that bitch down" is a legitimate aspirational flex, and you get the sense that this is an improbable inversion of the age-old rapping just to get a rep, with the penny-ante schemes being touted by kids unafraid of being called small-timers or unaware of why that would even be a problem. And if "Dynamic Duo" were about a minute shorter, it would not tick past the point of an electrifying thrill ride into what chemistry on a rap song can be and into an exercise sure to exhaust the listener. Something tells me Kasher and Teejay will keep going, though. [6]

Maxwell Cavaseno: For arguably the last two or three years (at minimum), it's been a poorly kept secret that Detroit has become the best city of the rap game. Atlanta? Self-rewriting hogwash sounding just as generic as NYC did in the mid '00s. Los Angeles? Still depending on rappers who've taken over nine years to gain any sort of traction outside of its own city walls and would rather keep going back to the well from tired old icons. Chicago? Their best rapper MOVED OUT, and now they're best represented by a sanctimonious theater kid working out his ABDL-related complex in public. Sickening! No, Detroit has been THE place to be, thanks to a frantic paced scene built on Scamming, Sniping, and Sleaziness. Plenty of my peers, in response to "Dynamic Duo," have been confounded and astonished at how seemingly extreme and hysterical the record sounds, but once you've heard the likes of Pablo Skywalkin or Rocaine, that this city has produced, you get it. The maniacal offbeat flows, the stressed out hyperactive minor key piano licks over the Mannie Fresh-indebted throwback drums, the vivid detail as these men describe going on The Dark Net and buying your (YES YOURS READER!) social security numbers to make Venmo into a frenzied honeypot. Believe me when I tell you that Kasher Quon and Teejayx6 are some of the youngest to do it, but they're astonishingly normal for this scene. If this is the record that puts The Motor City back on the map, then I'm all the happier! But approach with caution! [8]

Alex Clifton: I want to make it absolutely clear that this is one of the worst things I have ever heard. I also listened to it four times in a row. It's not just bad but unforgivably bad, inept and cringey and something that could only exist in the era of YouTube. I don't mind small-time guys trying to make a song and sounding endearingly bad; usually in those cases, though, you have an idea of the song, a notion of what the artist wanted it to be. There is, however, no redeeming musical quality to this track. I can't even call it a song because that implies structure and melody and some sort of forethought as opposed to whatever the hell this is. The best part of this contraption is the beat, which is the repetitive Phoenix Wright soundtrack from hell mixed with a bad trap drum. Honestly it wouldn't be so bad if it had literally any variation other than randomly going up or down. And then the rap starts. I can't. I literally can't. I could rap better than these dudes, and I am the kind of person who karaokes Taylor goddamn Swift whenever I can. And yet this performance is hypnotic? Every time I listen to this I am struck anew by its utter badness. This isn't Maroon 5 phoning-it-in bad, nor Lukas Graham full-of-shit pomposity bad; it's just a literal trainwreck of words thrown about with no care as to order or sense. Throw in some absolute what-the-fuck lines ("stingy with my sauce like Mr. Krabs" is my current favourite) and this thing throws me for a loop each time I hear it. I hate this bloody thing and it won't leave my brain. It is worth mentioning that the video is a solid [10]. [0]

David Sheffieck: This is a vertiginous experience, mashing together a beat like a mid-'80s car chase with the high wire act of Kasher Quon and Teejayx6 swapping and overlapping lines at a headlong, near-breathless pace. It's technically dazzling and (more importantly) fun: a thrill-ride built from quotable lines, wild boasts, and a sense that nothing's impossible. Maybe the best song I've heard all year -- and without question the most exciting. [10]

Crystal Leww: There's a moment in Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse where Miles Morales scores a 0 on a test and his teacher gives him a 100 instead, because "You have to know all the answers to get all of them wrong; you're trying to fail out." That pretty much sums up how I feel about "Dynamic Duo." I would never play this in a club or a car and would never hope that anyone ever plays it on the radio where others would be trapped into listening to this. There is so much chaotic, bad energy stuffed into this seemingly never-ending track of rap verses. Both Kasher Quon and Teejayx6 are somehow off beat for every single beat, which sounds so cheaply made on knockoff Garage Band. Everyone involved knew every single thing they were supposed to do in rap music and decided to do exactly the opposite. That's beautiful to me -- that's high art. [8]

Will Adams: Admittedly, this is the first time in a while that a song has evoked the feeling of "I'm losing my fucking mind," so I can't not give points for that. [5]

Joshua Copperman: I am 100% not the target audience. But nothing exists and has ever existed in a vacuum. This was going to find its way to me eventually, even though it was not made for me, a writer-type person who can't be called a critic because to people of a certain age the word brings to mind not not Christgau, not Zoladz, not even Fantano, but, like, Doug Walker. Then it brings up Lizzo. Yet I know the feeling of something being so deeply your thing that you become irrepressibly On Brand. This sound collage of absurd punchlines is baffling to me -- this is what most people probably hear when they say they hate SoundCloud rap. And then you have the writers that would view it as punk, flying in the face of everyone trying to analyze it. But that wasn't the intention. It was a duo fooling around and going music-Twitter viral, maybe for the wrong reasons. It's easy to imagine someone liking it in spite of other music, not because they genuinely enjoy it. But watching my Twitter feed briefly explode with excitement was a beautiful moment. "Dynamic Duo" doesn't transcend its trappings -- the punchlines are given no room to breathe, and the beat is too busy. But it works enough that the irony-drenched recesses of music twitter paused for only a moment. That's plenty. [6]

Ryo Miyauchi: Leave it to Detroit rappers to continue and celebrate an exercise in rap practiced in the earliest wave of the genre. "Dynamic Duo" gets off the rails pretty quick with Kasher Quon foregoing some attempt at narrative of him and Teejayx6 getting ambushed, and it instead becomes a competition of who can one-up the other in humor, raunchiness and violence. A thrilling, off-the-cuff freestyle feel flows throughout: bits like handling mom's bills on Comcast.com and entering Wal-Mart with a frown can only come from a wild stream of consciousness, rushing to grab any word and rhyme that comes first. It's been a while to witness not only this intense of baton passing between two rappers but also for one to inspire a better bar out of another with each succession. [8]

Alfred Soto: The tinny beat is the point, the off-the-beat rapping perhaps. Intentions are for lawyers, not critics. To enjoy "Dynamic Duo" is to relish the can-you-top-this? vulgarity of who did what to which women. Quon and Teejayx6 could go on for sixteen more verses, by which point every other kid on the playground would've returned to class and called the disciplinarian. When they don't flex their imagination for the sake of cruelty, it works, which is about half the time. [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Trapped on the precipice between never wanting to hear this again and wanting an extended cut and I think the latter is winning. Please send help. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[originaldetectivesheep]

Year In Review - Books I Read in 2018

Last year, I thought I was at the limits by reading 300ish books, mostly old Gutenberg stuff.  This year...kind of left that for dead, with 689 books or book-like things scratched off.  This is not merely 'way', but 'way, way' too many, and may have contributed to stagnation as an author in the middle of the year: what we read inevitably ends up setting the context for what we write, and the amount of Edgar Wallace and E. P. Oppenheim I read this year can't have been good.

To try and make sense out of these way too many books, I'm not going to post review snippets for each of them, or even the 50ish (less than 15%) that I unreservedly liked; instead, I'm going to go through and find something to say about every author I read at least three books from this year.  This is still going to be huge, but hopefully, it'll be more coherent huge, and less bad-huge.

A. Hyatt Verrill was an immense chore to read, astonishingly racist almost everywhere and completely up his own ass about branches of science he knew literally nothing about, but fighting through it, I managed to get a lot of close description of the Caribbean as it was in the early 20th century.  This isn't a recommendation of, really, any of his work, but more of a warning about how to be sure you know what you know -- that, and maybe establishing a full-privilege-people shoveling bureau to help recover any diamonds from similar shitpiles of the past for general use.  :\

Alfred J. Church never, as far as I read this year, put out a good book -- he was fatally tripped up by, to some degree, the expectations of his time and markets, and in another way, by not really understanding what fiction is and how it works.  I didn't have to read his crap to find this out, but it was faster than doing another lit class and I could do it while waiting for airplanes, so again :\

I read the first 30 of Arthur Leo Zagat's Doc Turner stories this year; in addition to being critical two-fisted pulps, they're also an object lesson in self-examination: Turner's whole deal is being the protector of the downtrodden new-Americans of Morris Street, but at such an angle that you can't help but notice who gets to be human and worthy under their hokey dialect and who doesn't.  This series was trying to be woke and progressive in its day, and where and how it fails at that should be a critical pointer for people trying, also, to lead the moment and hopefully not look grimy and problematic in another fifteen years.

I'd obviously read some Arthur Machen before, but doing a deep dive over his whole corpus this year was still a revelation.  A lot of his stuff is kind of far-corner weird, and it was really interesting to come back later in life and see the threads of just how it ended up that weird.

Arthur Morrison put up a real mixed bag: a lot of good humor and some solid detective bits, but with real problems with dialect; this is something you kind of get with nineteenth-century humor, but that doesn't make it not suck.  There's always going to be a use, as a writer, to faithfully representing  non-classroom-standard pronunciation and usage, but reading stuff with major dialect should be a bucket of cold water to rethink about how you actually put that on paper.

C. Dudley Lampen's shit-bad books, exactly enough to qualify, show how a sufficiently-motivated author, regardless of ability above a certain and very low minimum standard, can always find a publisher.  Lampen got there with Christianity; there are other paths for other bads, but taking them rather than taking your rejections will not get you where you actually want to be.

I had a bunch of D. W. O'Brien short stories this year that added up to about a qualifying extent; he's one of those writers who for the most part does make it up in volume, but there was a lot of breadth there this year, and more good material than before.  I can't understand why he isn't better known among general audiences, in the context of pulp writers before the end of the Second World War.

I notched 126 books or book-equivalents from E. Phillips Oppenheim this year, and nearly all of them were a dreadful waste of time.  Craft-wise, I liked seeing how he put together serial collections as dismembered novels, unlike Wallace's barely-attached piles of independent stories, and the way he, in mid-life, read one of his early books, threw it into the sea because it was so bad, and then got somewhat better is heartening, but that is a lot of material for very little result.  Oppenheim always wants to be literary and do well, but he never got any good at it, and "churn out a lot of barely-qualifying crap" is no longer a valid market strategy with so many other entertainment options.

I read all of E. W. Hornung, including all of the Raffles stuff, this year, mostly sitting in one place in London waiting for a plane to Jo'burg.  The cricket interplay was pretty good, and there was a lot more to think about, in a social-history dimension, than I thought there would be, but there also was a lot less material than I thought this guy had put up.

Earl Derr Biggers (including all the original Charlie Chan books) was a lot less racist than I was dreading going in, and a lot better at all kinds of stuff about place and human relationships than you really expect a detective writer to be.  Biggers is another one where you really see the contrasts between 'trying' and 'succeeding' at including marginalized people as truly human, and how you take that lesson forward is important.

This year accounted for 111 Edgar Wallace things, which were less of a waste of time than the Oppenheim if immensely more aggravating.  Wallace is a better and snappier technical writer, but he has dialect problems, he's intensely racist, he ran out so many failed experiments and slabbed together so many reprint collections, and his organization of anything novel-length is frequently a disaster.  It's more informative, maybe, to read Wallace writing about writing than it is to read his own stuff; he's thoroughly, professionally artless, but he has a distinct vision for what can sell where, and a grounded approach to writing as craft.  But for general audiences, god, no, stoppit.

Edward Lucas White had a minimum-qualifying extent this year, all read in Zambia, which was good in places and eh in others.  I liked his shorter stories better than his full-length novels, but they really go to show how a racist and orientalist fear of the unknown underlies a lot of that great early-20th-century boom in weird fiction -- as someone who likes reading and writing that sort of weird, it's another spur to re-examine what I'm doing and how I do it.

I covered all of Elizabeth McKintosh this year as well, and as much as I liked the Inspector Grant material, her non-Grant mysteries were maybe better.  It was also cool to get her full spread, and see her doing things other than mysteries; too often you see authors only through a lens of what stays in print, what the library buys, etc, and you miss these parts of their development or personality.

I finished up most of the Ernest Bramah I'd missed five years ago in Russia while I was in Zambia, and enjoyed the more Max Carrados stuff I hadn't found before.  I did not enjoy another volume of Kai Lung shittiness, but will keep it as a memento mori for doing characters so significantly outside oneself.  :\

This year also saw all of Ethel Lina White's thrillers, and while I was reading them, it was ceaselessly awesome.  If there's anything in this year that's going to qualify for re-reads in some distant future, these are going to be it.

I ground through all of Felix Dahn while I was in France, and hated about every single page of it.  The transition from late antiquity to the early Middle Ages is interesting, but maybe don't send a moustache-twirling kleindeutsch racist to tell the tales of Germans taking over from Rome.  :\

Intensely stupid and so significantly, broad-spectrum racist that I frequently wondered whether I was unexpectedly drunk rather than the book being just that bad, I somehow made it through most of Francis H. Atkins' material this year, and the most significant thing I gained out of it was never having to read those atrocious crap piles ever again.  There are a very few interesting or novel points in this guy's fiction, and none of them are worth putting up with the writing to dig out.

If you need a sleeping pill, you could do worse than Frederic W. Farrar -- unless you break out into uncontrollable laughter when confronted with mid-Victorian pietisms.  His school stories are picture-primer trash; his Romanica is ahistorical sermonizing trash.  Again, do not.

Georg Ebers can't draw characters, compose a plot, or hold reader interest, but he does a hell of a job re-writing research on Roman-era Alexandria over into thick piles of sequential words.  Dude sucks, but if you can skip around, he's done all of the work on this little corner of Egyptian history and it just remains for moderns to take that work and re-cast it.

George A. Henty made the minimum qualification, and I wish he hadn't -- his three bad to very bad novels made the worst of the flight out to Hong Kong, and should not be given the chance to spoil anyone else's time, ever again.

George Griffith had a fuck of an arc -- some of his early material was just blindingly awful, both stupid and poorly composed, but he recovered and improved in later books to put up some stuff that's borderline worth seeking out.  That this kind of metamorphosis is possible is a great encouragement to keep going: no matter how bad you are, you will not necessarily *stay that bad forever.

I've still got a couple left before I finish George J. Whyte-Melville, but from what I did read of him this year, it's pretty clear that sometimes authors have fields they're good at and fields they suck at.  His Victorian stuff is not that bad -- and his riding manual is an unintentional treasure -- but his sword-and-sandal stuff sucks major balls.  If you need to stay in your lane, that's something to learn as soon as possible.

H. Bedford-Jones is a weird one; not real good, but he takes on these gigantic imaginative ideas and does them almost correctly, almost completely.  I obviously want to avoid that sort of missed-it-by-that-much outcome, but to a certain degree you need to take on big challenges to even have a chance at that.

I read most of J. U. Giesy's work (with Junius Smith on Semi Dual) last year, and the minimum-qualifying stuff that slopped over into this year was mostly very bad, but there was a WWI novella in the bunch that was so good I wondered if it had been misattributed.  Again, what's good, what you like, and what will sell are all completely disconnected propositions.

James Hilton provided the requisite Mid-Century Popular Intentional Literature ration this year, some of which was good, some of which was confusingly-accumulated, and some of which ended up lapped by Richard Rhodes.  Hilton is another re-read candidate, but not all of his stuff; in bulk, this is a lesson about the advantages and disadvantages of throwing yourself so wholly into your works.

The John Buchan I had left for this year, after reading him in the main, much younger, was a picked-over bunch to be sure, and as usual to be grappled with rather than just taken up entire.  It's not something I'd go and recommend to others, but A Lodge In the Wilderness was maybe the most important and impactful book I read, personally, this whole year.

The one good thing I, or anyone else, can take from John W. Duffield's shitty corpus, is the expression "what is this Bomba-the-Jungle-Boy horseshit?", which means exactly what it looks like it means.  Duffield has some imaginative ideas, but has zero capacity to actually execute on them, ever, and put up some of the most virulently stupid racism I had to grind through this year.  Bad even among his contemporaries, the likes of Duffield are why informed people are reluctant to make major hay out of Lovecraft's racism -- not because he isn't still problematic, but because a lot of stuff in the contemporary popular press was that much even worse.

I technically had a qualifying amount of Ladbroke Black this year, but you blink at this dude -- who ghosted a lot of the high-speed, instantly-disposable Sexton Blake as well -- and his entire corpus is gone.  As much as I can remember, the stuff I read this year was similarly functional but not noteworthy, and fortunately not real influential.

I probably read enough Leroy Yerxa to qualify, between various short repacks; he's a middling pulp author, but going through, all of his stuff is still publishable, which is important.  He turned in acceptable work in the right trip lengths, over diverse subjects, to place out; there's a place for this kind of workmanship, even if it doesn't ever get to great heights.

I didn't expect I'd like the Lloyd C. Douglas stuff that I liked as much as I ended up liking it: there's bits of clunk through his whole corpus, but he almost never gets preachy, and where his stuff works, it hits just absolutely ceaselessly, and is very cool.  (But yes, some of it does suck, very important to note.)

M. P. Shiel was responsible for the book that I got maybe the maddest at this year, and definitely the one I wrote the longest negative review blurb for.  He had a couple good parts, but there was too much that was just over-ornamented where it didn't straight up suck.  Honestly, all of this material was back last January and a pain to think about even then.

For Golden-Age space-opera, it doesn't get much better than Malcolm Jameson, who I mostly cleaned up this year and who barely got over the qualifying line.  This took in a little more of his range than I had before, which was really good: he always comes up with neat outer angles on stuff, and almost always with correct science, at least of his time.

Max Brand is my current 'major' campaign, and reading the next hundred-ish things from him in the pile will take most of 2019.  I've already chewed a decently big chunk, though, and it's interesting to see more of his warts and weak points as a writer, where what I'd seen from him before lacked a lot of that.  I'm also seeing, for the first time, some of his non-cowboy fiction, and for the most part that's another 'stay in your lane' incentive; we'll see what of this changes next year.

I finally got around to reading most of Otis A. Kline's corpus, and it...was not really worth the wait.  Kline is another idea factory, and while he's generally more able to execute on them than Duffield and less racist in doing so, neither comes out perfect and he's substantially in the shadow of Abraham Merritt on Earth and E. Rice Burroughs when he's off on a planetary romance.  Functional and imaginative, yes, but you really really want that extra push to make it through to 'good'.

The one thing you really want to take out of S. S. Van Dine is his 20 rules for detective fiction; I got that this year, in amid the Philo Vance stuff, which takes a bit of an effort.  Van Dine's career arc is a hell of weird one, and it must have hurt, from the cleaned-up later books, to look at the over-artifacted mess of the first couple and regret not doing them better.  This sort of view is why I want to read less of these in the future -- I can't keep having my mental context dictated by works that are a hundred years and more out of date.

Sabine Baring-Gould is approached a lot better as an antiquarian and a writer of sourcebooks than of fiction.  His fictional works are okay, if you excuse some major structural problems, but for all of their unstoppable thickness, his collections of legends and historical tales are just mighty.  Maybe not an author to read, but definitely one to keep around.

I'm also kind of in the middle on Sapper, who's showing some okay range, but in many parts really exemplifying how perspective and market demands can put blinders on you.  His wartime stuff recalls Tim O'Brien or Joseph Heller in places -- mechanized warfare tends to have similar effects at whatever distance -- but there as in his thriller serials he's also the staunchest guy since Wallace, and he does a really poor job of not Drudge-siren hyperventilating about threats to the class system.  Again, we'll see next year how the rest of this goes.

I read all of Tacitus' Annals and Histories this year, and damned if I can remember a whole lot about them that deterministically wasn't in Suetonius or Julius Caesar last year.  Roman writers are definitely more primary-source than pleasure-reading at this point, but it does help to have that text as a reference for reading bads out of the Bibliotheca Romanica.

The Talbot Mundy I had on the stack this year was very much for cleanup, and doesn't change last year's impressions: a still-problematic dude who is less racist, less colonialist, and less bad than a lot of people are willing to extend him credit.  If a book has Chullunder Ghose in it, it's probably worth reading, even if I still would like to see a South Asian writer pick up and grapple with the character.

Thomas C. Bridges did probably the best boys'-own adventures I read this year, which is kind of like "least stinky garbage dump" or "best-tasting light beer".  He does good stuff and some absolute horseshit, but his pacing and action flow is just magic, even when his characters are being intolerable racist fucks; another one to scrape the gunk off maybe.

I got to see Valentine Williams turn, over the course of a lot of books this year, from a John Buchan disciple so close to almost be clone into an independent if not always original thrillerist; in 2018, we'd read the Clubfoot series out for ableism -- von Grundt is kind of defined in his villainy and power by his grotesque body -- but Clubfoot himself is one of the classic spy villains and an absolute monster of a character.  There are ways to get to that level without punching down, but this is the mark, right here.

Wilkie Collins was mostly accounted for in 2017, but the three books finished this year -- The Moonstone, The Queen of Hearts, and The Woman In White -- would be a sufficient reading for a whole year for a lot of people.  Every single one of these is plain and pure magic, and if you haven't read them, there's your '19 project.

Somehow, I made it through all of William H. Ainsworth's wild and degenerate gothicisms; I'm just not always sure how, or completely why.  Ainsworth is another author to be handled with the fireplace tongs, not because he's bad or problematic, but because he's just so weird and relentlessly extra, and I'm not really sure you want to get that on you.

* * * What stands out in the above, or what should, is how unbalanced it is: I read a couple other women authors this year who fell below the threshold, and McKintosh and White put up some of the best total results of anyone I read this year, but the volume problem is exactly as bad as it looks.  This is something I really need to make a point of fixing, but it's something that ought to also come naturally in making the other change I'm targeting for 2019.

That other change, of course, is to read more contemporary material.  There's stuff to be gleaned from the past, sure, but what I got from chewing through that much Oppenheim is of seriously debatable value.  To some extent, pulping Gutenbooks is what I do because I can do it easily at work or on the road, but I really need to set aside time to read newer, better, smarter, more diverse material if I actually want to improve as an author -- and it'll probably be less teeth-grinding, too.

[trendingnewsb]

The Struggle to Predictand PreventToxic Masculinity

Terrie Moffitt has been trying to figure out why men are terrible for more than 25 years. Or, to calibrate: Why some men are really terrible—violent, criminal, dangerous—but most men are not. And, while she’s at it, how to tell which man is going to become which.

A small number of people are responsible for the vast majority of crimes. Many of those people display textbook “antisocial behavior”—technically, a serious disregard for other people’s rights—as adolescents. The shape of the problem is called the age-crime curve, arrests plotted against the age of the offender. It looks like a shark’s dorsal fin, spiking in the teenage years and then long-tailing off to the left.

In 1992, Moffitt, now a psychologist at Duke University, pitched an explanation for that shape: The curve covers two separate groups. Most people don’t do bad things. Some people only do them as teenagers. And a very small number start doing them as toddlers and keep doing them until they go to prison or die. Her paper became a key hypothesis in psychology, criminology, and sociology, cited thousands of times.

In a review article in Nature Human Behaviour this week, Moffitt takes a ride through two decades of attempts to validate the taxonomy. Not for girls, Moffitt writes, because even though she studies both sexes, “findings have not reached consensus.” But for boys and men? Oh yeah.

To be clear, Moffitt isn’t trying to develop a toxicology of toxic masculinity here. As a researcher she’s interested in the interactions of genes and environment, and the reasons some delinquent children—but not all—turn into crime-committing adults. That’s a big enough project. But at this exact cultural moment, with women of the #MeToo movement calling sexual harassers and abusers to account just as mass shootings feel as if they’ve become a permanent recurring event—and when almost every mass shooter, up to and including the recent school shooting in Parkland, Florida, has been a man—I’m inclined to try to find explanations anywhere that seems plausible. US women are more likely to be killed by partners than anyone else. Men commit the vast majority of crimes in the US. So it’s worth querying Moffitt’s taxonomy to see if it offers any order to that chaos, even if it wasn’t built for it.

“Grown-ups who use aggression, intimidation, and force to get what they want have invariably been pushing other people around since their very early childhood,” Moffitt says via email from a rural vacation in New Zealand. “Their mothers report they were difficult babies, nursery day-care workers say they are difficult to control, and when all the other kids give up hitting and settle in as primary school pupils, teachers say they don’t. Their record of violating the rights of others begins surprisingly early, and goes forward from there.”

So if you could identify those kids then, maybe you could make things better later? Of course, things are way more complicated than that.

Since that 1993 paper, hundreds of studies have tested pieces of Moffitt’s idea. Moffitt herself has worked on a few prospective studies, following kids through life to see if they fall into her categories, and then trying to figure out why.

For example, she worked with the Dunedin Study, which followed health outcomes for more than 1,000 boys and girls in New Zealand starting in the early 1970s. Papers published from the data have included looks at marijuana use, physical and mental health, and psychological outcomes. Moffitt and her colleagues found that about a quarter of the males in the study fit the criteria she’d laid out for “adolescence limited” antisociability; they’re fine until they hit their teens, then they do all sorts of bad stuff, and then they stop. And 10 percent were “life-course persistent”—they have trouble as children, and it doesn’t stop. As adolescents, all had about the same rates of bad conduct.

But as children, the LCP boys scored much higher on a set of specific risks. Their mothers were younger. They tended to have been disciplined more harshly, and have experienced more family strife as kids. They scored lower on reading, vocabulary, and memory tests, and had a lower resting heart rate—some researchers think that people feel lower heart rates as discomfort and undertake riskier behaviors in pursuit of the adrenaline highs that’ll even them out. “LCP boys were impulsive, hostile, alienated, suspicious, cynical, and callous and cold toward others,” Moffitt writes of the Dunedin subjects in her Nature Human Behaviour article. As adults, “they self-reported excess violence toward partners and children.” They had worse physical and mental health in their 30s, were more likely to be incarcerated, and were more likely to attempt suicide.

Other studies have found much the same thing. A small number of identifiable boys turn into rotten, violent, unhappy men.

Could Moffitt’s taxonomy account for sexual harassers and abusers? In one sense, it seems unlikely: Her distinction explicitly says by adulthood there should only be a small number of bad actors, yet one of the lessons of #MeToo has been that every woman, it seems, has experienced some form of harassment.

Meta-analyses of the incidence of workplace sexual harassment vary in their outcomes, but a large-scale one from 2003 that covered 86,000 women reported that 56 percent experienced “potentially harassing” behaviors and 24 percent had definitely been harassed. Other studies get similar results.

But as pollsters say, check the cross-tabs. Harassment has sub-categories. Many—maybe most—women experience the gamut of harassing behaviors, but sub-categories like sexual coercion (being forced to have sex as a quid pro quo or to avoid negative consequences) or outright assault are rarer than basic institutional sexism and jerky, inappropriate comments. “What women are more likely to experience is everyday sexist behavior and hostility, the things we would describe as gender harassment,” says John Pryor, a psychologist at Illinois State University who studies harassment.

Obviously, any number greater than zero here is too high. And studies of prevalence can’t tell you if so many women are affected because all men harass at some low, constant ebb or few men do it, like, all the time. Judging by reports of accusations, the same super-creepy men who plan out sexual coercion may also impulsively grope and assault women. Those kind of behaviors, combined with the cases where many more accusers come forward after the first one, seem to me to jibe with the life-course persistent idea. “Sometimes people get caught for the first time as an adult, but if we delve into their history, the behavior has been there all along,” Moffitt says. “Violating the rights of others is virtually always a life-long lifestyle and an integral part of a person’s personality development.”

That means it’s worth digging into people’s histories. Whisper networks have been the de facto means of protecting women in the workplace; the taxonomy provides an intellectual framework for giving them a louder voice, because it suggests that men with a history of harassment and abuse probably also have a future of it.

Now, some writers have used the idea of toxic masculinity to draw a line between harassment, abuse, and mass shootings. They’re violent, and the perpetrators tend to be men. But here, Moffitt’s taxonomy may be less applicable.

Despite what the past few years have felt like, mass shootings are infrequent. And many mass shooters end up committing suicide or being killed themselves, so science on them is scant. “Mass shootings are such astonishingly rare, idiosyncratic, and multicausal events that it is impossible to explain why one individual decides to shoot his or her classmates, coworkers, or strangers and another does not,” write Benjamin Winegard and Christopher Ferguson in their chapter of The Wiley Handbook of the Psychology of Mass Shootings.

That said, researchers have found a few commonalities. The shooters are often suicidal, or more precisely have stopped caring whether they live or die, says Adam Lankford, a criminologist at the University of Alabama. Sometimes they’re seeking fame and attention. And they share a sense that they themselves are victims. “That’s how they justify attacking others,” Lankford says. “Sometimes the perceptions are based in reality—I was bullied, or whatever—but sometimes they can be exacerbated by mental health problems or personality characteristics.”

Though reports on mass shooters often say that more than half of them are also domestic abusers, that number needs some unpacking. People have lumped together mass shootings of families—domestic by definition—with public mass shootings like the one in Las Vegas, or school shootings. Disaggregate the public active shooters from the familicides and the number of shooters with histories of domestic abuse goes down. (Of course, that doesn’t change preposterously high number of abused women murdered by their partners outside of mass shooting events.)

What may really tip the mass shooter profile away from Moffitt’s taxonomy, though, is that people in the life-course persistent cohort do uncontrolled, crazy stuff all the time. Yes, some mass shooters have a history of encounters with law enforcement, let’s say. But some don’t. Mass shootings are, characteristically, highly planned events. “I’m not saying it’s impossible to be a mass shooter and have poor impulse control, but if you have poor impulse control you won’t be able to go for 12 months of planning an attack without ending up in jail first,” Lankford says.

Moffitt isn’t trying to build a unified field theory of the deadly patriarchy. When I suggest that the societal structures that keep men in power relative to women, generally, might explain the behavior of her LCP cohort, she disagrees. “If sexual harassment and mass shootings were the result of cultural patriarchy and societal expectations for male behavior, all men would be doing it all the time,” Moffitt says. “Even though media attention creates the impression that these forms of aggression are highly prevalent and all around us, they are nevertheless still extremely rare. Most men are trustworthy, good, and sensible.”

She and her colleagues continue to look for hard markers for violence or lack of impulse control, genes or neurobiological anomalies. (A form of the gene that codes for a neurotransmitter called monoamine oxidase inhibitor A might give some kids protection against lifelong effects of maltreatment, she and her team have found. By implication not having that polymorphism, then, could predispose a child raised under adverse circumstances to psychopathology as an adult.) Similarly, nobody yet knows what digital-native kids in either cohort will do when they move their bad behavior online. One might speculate that it looks a lot like GamerGate and 4chan, though that sociological and psychological work is still in early days.

But for now, Moffitt and her co-workers have identified risk factors and childhood conditions that seem to create these bad behaviors, or allow them to flourish. That’s the good news. “We know a lifestyle of aggression and intimidation toward others starts so young,” Moffitt says. “It could be preventable.”

Read more: https://www.wired.com/story/the-struggle-to-predictand-preventtoxic-masculinity/

from Viral News HQ https://ift.tt/2qVBXpg via Viral News HQ

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Allardyce’s Survival Blueprint - a blueprint for failure?

Worth considering this infographic, which was shown during a discussion on Sky Sports last night. Obviously this is not all of Allardyce's 'wisdom', it is what was cobbled together when he turned up at the studio as a talking point. So given those limitations it's worth looking at, not only as a sign of Allardyce's style, but generally as positive heuristics for any side looking to be successful. Where does 'survival' end and 'success' begin, and are they based on the same heuristics? There's a weird implicit tone to these points when associated with Allardyce though - are they 'healthy' or are they in service to an outdated model? It clearly is a model for survival, but is it the only model? And what is it ultimately good for?

Clean Sheets

Clean sheets are obviously important at any level of football. Probably impossible to ever achieve anything without them. But what Allardyce really means here is a focus on defensive organisation over attacking style. Now you could look at the top end of the prem and wonder if Man City, Liverpool, Arsenal or Man Utd really prize defensive organisation over attacking style - I don't think they do. So is it a survival mantra? Well possibly not, because I'm not even sure it's the only way - you could technically survive by cavalier attacking approaches or anywhere inbetween. I think Harry Redknapp is more of a model of the more opposite cavalier approach - throw players forward to get goals, and hope to win enough to cope with the defensive fallout. The cavalier approach feels more dangerous as an approach, but is it?

And when a goalscoring approach works, do we even notice it? Maybe we just assume they were a better side. We tend to notice when attrition and clean sheets make a team survive, but not when goals scored achieve the same goal. Not a clear example, but Swansea let in more goals then either Boro or Sunderland last season, but scored around 50% more goals. Bournemouth were also a high-scoring weak defence model last season. I contend that an attacking approach may be a better model for survival, but we tend to misinterpret it when it works.

Don't lose possession in your own half

Obviously no team and no player wants to do this - it can be fatal. But there is nevertheless a huge leap from that truism to saying '...so we try to minimise possession in our own half'. To me that would be the equivalent of saying 'People die in plane accidents, so I never fly anywhere'. It is not necessarily wrong, but may well be an absurd overreaction. You could extrapolate other ludicrous heuristics from similar surface-level observations - 'teams lose possession when a pass is intercepted, they should never pass', 'Corners rarely lead to a goal, so we should just refuse to take them' etc. The other implicit reaction to this is to wonder if the upshot of Allardyce's style is to say 'In order not to lose possession in our own half, we kick it up the field in order to lose possession as far away from our goal as possible'. It almost makes a kind of sense but is so reductive to be absurd.

Isn't a better solution to this issue to teach technique, practice the kind of passing patterns that take the ball from your own half to the opponent's half? Because while losing possession in your own half is a danger, working the ball forward to have possession in the opponent's half is rather useful. Tied into this is Allardyce's dour pragmatism - he assumes his players are awful, so his blueprint is to rely on their actual ability as little as possible. So keeping possession in your own half is out because it relies on abilities that Allardyce doesn't value or rely on.

Again I'm pondering whether the implicit lessons really play out in reality. Bournemouth, Swansea and Southampton are clearly sides that have established themselves in the premiership based on possession football, clearly flouting the implications of Allardyce's survival blueprint. Some would argue those clubs are by design more healthy as a result and have a proper philosophy and approach that seems to be replicated each season and is not based on attrition and physical strength alone. Their survival blueprint involved little of Allardyce's pragmatism.

Play the first pass forward

This is perhaps the most interesting of Allardyce's points, because it is not quite so immediately self-evident to be broadly true. As a precept I can see a lot of value in it - whether you're a possession side or a direct one, surely you want each player to first look for the pass forward. Where the problems come is if there isn't a forward pass available. One gets the sense that Allardyce's approach is to say 'play it anyway' - ie play a forward ball with a very low chance of success regardless.

I think tied into this is another of Allardyce's beliefs that it's worth doing something with a very low chance of success, because it will still succeed enough to be useful. No team can really play a long ball strategy without some belief in this - you know that a long ball up the field will mostly gift possession to the opposition, there is absolutely no doubt in the statistics there - what you are banking on is the lower percentage of times that it does work. And of course it's appealing in other ways - if it fails, you aren't 'losing possession in your own half' which in theory improves your chances of a clean sheet.

Except it doesn't imo. I can see the theory, but it doesn't work imo. The trouble is that if the opposition have the ball a whole lot more than you do when your 'clear the defences' strategy plays out, the truth is they have a lot more chances to bring the ball forward and break down your defence. So either you have to have a much better defence than their attack, or get lucky. Again if you get lucky a small proportion of the time it's a recipe for survival. But it is not a good habit. It is entirely reductive, and also takes responsibility out of your hands - 'we're playing a dour losing style, but gambling that you're not good enough to exploit it'. Of course teams work ever harder to break down opposition defences, and the standards are going up all the time, so I would argue there's a ticking clock on this whole philosophy - while it continues to work enough of the time it survives, but there will come a time where there is enough attacking talent throughout the league that it will almost always fail. Whereas alternative blueprints that might rely on possession and passing movements and inspiration will always have a chance - the capacity for inspiration cannot run out, the capacity to spoil it might.

Win knock-downs and transitions

What Allardyce really means here is that when the ball is loose and up for grabs, he wants to try and win it. Nothing wrong with that at all. But I suppose tied into that is his reliance on loose balls - he means when the ball bounces off the forward in the attacking half, or when a defender blocks or clears the ball in the defensive half. He wants to win that ball because his approach creates plenty of those situations. A possession side would not need to worry so much about that because the theory is that it's in possession not scrapping for loose balls. 'We play scrappily on purpose, but fight harder to recover from it'. In some ways it's a problem you've created.

I also wonder how well it sits with more modern concepts like the high press, where your team works to actually win the ball high up the field. Surely Allardyce would see the value in this - it wins the ball in the opponents half, where more of those first forward passes might be in a more dangerous area, and where winning that loose ball is all the more important. But he never plays it. It could be that the better extrapolation of his philosophy has completely passed him by.

Set-pieces

Absolutely no doubt that these are of massive importance to all teams - the numbers simply prove that a massive proportion of goals are scored and conceded through set-pieces. I suppose the issue is what proportion of training time to invest in them - surely the answer is some, but it must be noted that set-piece training might well have little crossover into training that benefits other areas of the game. You could train relentlessly on your organisation at set-pieces but that might turn you into a side that relies on set-pieces rather than abilities in open play. This is all well and good but it has a ceiling - how much of your success can you really enjoy through set-pieces? I think it would be astonishingly high if it was half.

So again this is a survival topic and not a success one. Set-pieces might get you enough goals to keep you up. But they have a ceiling. They are not going to do anything else for you. They could be a part of a more successful recipe, but they cannot provide it on their own. It's probably a maths problem in the end - how much benefit does 1 hour of training bring per week - is it a worthwhile investment. Other training improves players and that benefit might last for the rest of their careers and is exponential in a way that set-pieces are not.

Exploit the opposition's weakness

This is a basic point that surely applies at all levels. There are very few teams that don't take some notice of the opposition's tactics. I think it's probably more of a question at the higher level, where there's some question of whether for example Wenger's Arsenal are flexible enough to deal with different opponents.

Quality in the final third

I think this is a crucial tentpole of Allardyce's approach, that really undermines the whole thing. I think it's fair to say that he feels he can cobble together a defence because he knows what he's doing there, but in the attacking third he wants to buy success or just have it. There's a question mark over whether he believes this because it's true or simply because it covers his blindspot as a coach. Certainly it's a model I recognise from West Ham, where all his defensive signings were relatively cheap and solid, and his attacking signings were high and rather profligate (Nolan, Carroll, Downing, Valencia). What it really means is that he wants to buy goals for the chances he creates, and the rest he deals with through discipline. But really that’s not ultimately a model - it’s just a method for deferring responsibility to the cheque-book, ‘to survive we have to buy good players’.

In this Allardyce is not alone - there seems to be a pervading belief in football that ability in the final third is mysterious and a product of the sort of inspiration that many aren't quite sure how to coach and everyone wants to buy. The natural finisher. The mercurial talent. You can work out a repeatable set of training exercises for defenders or a goalkeeper and just repeat them and measure the results. But for a forward how do you do the same? It's not as easy, and the results might be as misleading as they are useful. You can't train penalties etc. So what Allardyce wants his clubs to do is to spend money to try and buy it instead. If you think of Allardyce's approach as an expression of rather limited logic that nevertheless is understandable and at least based on a set of (reductive imo) theories, it is quite easy to understand why the holistic understanding of the attacking mindset might be beyond him.

But this notion of inspiration or ability-based results also runs against all the other components of this survival blueprint. The blueprint is designed to avoid the notion of ability or inspiration. You don't need ability to boot the ball upfield, or stand in the right place at a set-piece, or be strong. It's as if Allardyce understands he needs ability, but wants to have as little of it as possible in order to make a system work. But he's wrong - ability and inspiration matters in defence and midfield too, and improving it has a knock-on effect through players’ all-round game and the team's and then the club’s. This is why the clubs Allardyce works at have largely gone backwards after he goes - because he hasn't trained them how to actually improve, he's only trained them how to exist to a very limited survival blueprint.

That ultimately is the problem with the survival blueprint - it can only deliver survival, and not always that. It's the equivalent of sticking your thumb in a leaking pipe - it can be effective but it does not solve anything. It is also not the only possible method, though it is certainly the most recognisably dull. Allardyce has built his career on it, and while pundits rally around to endorse it it will survive. But I think it’s a very limited and conservative and unhealthy approach for any club.

[npbentley]

Natalie Paige Bentley

Natalie Bentley

Advice On Beginners Singing Lessons

GET SERIOUS When they see that you are intent on your singing people will undoubtedly be greater than willing to offer you a opportunity. What exactly does it mean to be "severe?" Practice... Record on your own and listen carefully. But understand that most singers may reap the benefits of having feedback about their singing. Consequently consider finding a good singing teacher who pertains to to your style of songs. Prepare well for the lessons. Be on the lookout for tunes that are amazing and powerful. Songs that you believe your voice can now or one-day will manage well Natalie Bentley. Make time to read novels and articles about singing. Listen critically to how others sing. Consider why you enjoy a performance or why you do not want it. Make an effort to acquire something for your own personal singing life out of each and every performance you hear. Keep a note book about singing where you record your thoughts, hopes and ideas about singing. Individuals can sense when you are seriously interested in singing, and they'll offer you the opportunity to show them what it is possible to do. BE PURPOSEFUL If you are purposeful in your singing folks will join with you. This means which you sing about things which are meaningful to you personally. Sing about events, areas, individuals and occasions that actually intrigue you. Choose songs that represent what you believe. Avoid singing songs which might be well beyond your current ability or outside your individual knowledge. Locate tunes that suit your personality as well as your voice. In the event you are in possession of a trusted teacher, ask her or him to suggest many different tunes for you personally after you have discussed your unique life interests. Ask a close friend to suggest some songs for you: not songs that they like, but tunes which they think you'll sing nicely. Always be to the watch for songs that are distinct and strong. If you are purposeful in your singing, people who share your worth will likely be brought to your music. BRING SATISFACTION! Trillium Vein In the event that you relish your singing people are far more likely to relax and take delight in your vocal gift suggestions. Make it a part of your singer's credo (belief system) to approach your singing with energy and happiness. Prevent indulgence in discouragement and rage when you're building your singing career. Everybody around them endures. Try to shift a way from singing to get a period of time if things usually are not going nicely, as opposed to singing with negative energy. Then keep coming back to singing later when you happen to be in a better disposition. Good singing relies a fantastic deal on disposition. If you relish your singing individuals will sense your enjoyment and relax. Look here for ways to remain positive as you learn how to sing. 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It might surprise one to learn that only one% of the overall public is tone deaf. That means that most people can tell the difference between distinct notes. This also means that practically everyone can learn to sing and learn how to enhance their singing. I don't know about you-but I love to sing. Underwater Mermaid However, the question is, "Can anyone sing?" Well the resounding answer to that question is just, "Yes!" Perhaps you may find vocal coaching helpful It could benefit you to possess vocal training. Should you find an excellent class, then you'll learn all of the techniques like how to pronounce your phrases when singing or the way to breathe and ultimately how to command Underwater Mermaid your vocal chords. If you're seriously interested in learning to sing, then it is suggested that you just get proper training. Having vocal teaching can enable you to boost your singing without ruining your voice or throat. I expect this post will provide you with more assurance in your singing. The above mentioned measures sound Singing Mermaid easy enough but they could actually give you the capacity to discover the type of singer you might be. But if you do not want a vocal coach or usually do not have the money to purchase a voice coach then don't despair because there's so much advice about singing on the net. So in answer to your own question, "Can anyone sing?" there is hope for you! Practically anyone will get the capacity to understand to sing. As well as the means to better your singing is time and devoted practice. You'll need to work out what your range is. Simply because you can not sing higher than a specific note or can not sing below a particular note does maybe not suggest that you can-not sing. Everybody h AS different ranges inside their singing. Just by singing to different tunes, you will be capable to work out what your array is. Once you've worked out your range, select songs that sing in this variety and these will be the songs which you can sing to confidently. But also recall that with practice everyday, it really is possible to break-through that array and possibly raise it. All you need though is practice and devotion to singing often. You will require time to practice and be patient with your practicing Remember that it takes some time to learn how to sing. Singing Mermaid Should you practice singing to get a short time every day, then you are going to see developments in your voice over time. The significant point to recall is that it does take time to learn how to sing. But you can learn. You are going to firstly have to enhance your confidence and battle any mental barriers which you had Singing Mermaid about singing. When you are confident together with your voice, you'll relax more and will probably have the ability practice your singing and maybe will probably be able to sing before people.Singing WIKI

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

My little Squeaky Toy Pt.4 (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Title: My little Squeaky Toy Pt.4 (Tom Hiddleston x reader)

Summary: Tom and you continue to text each other. And after a few weeks Tom comes up with a surprise and the dinner you still owe him.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: fluff, a tiny little bit of romance, mild swearing (not actually, there is like one swearword in the story), blushing, clumsiness, shy reader, slight angst, Tom Hiddleston is a ridiculous gentleman and sweetheart, sassy!Tom

Notes: (Y/C) = Your city             (Y/F) = your friend’s name             (repost from my old blog)

Word Count: 2361

Requested by: @eye106

Previous Parts:  Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

A few weeks had passed since the meeting in the art gallery, and you had managed to write almost every day. You were surprised about how much the two of you talked when he found the time to call you. He used to ask you a lot of questions and you wondered if it wasn’t getting boring for him to hear your normal life stories. But he showed genuine interest and listened to your stuttering or the difficulties you had with your job. It was as if he wanted to know as much as possible about you and that somehow made you feel special in a way you had never felt before. The simplicity that lay between you and Tom when you talked or messaged each other managed to calm you down, even if it was just a little bit. It was astonishing, what Tom had already done to you.

After a good amount of phone calls, which had lasted at least three hours each, you had started to draw at the same time, because you somehow needed to keep your hands busy and some inspiration had struck you.

You were in the middle of painting again – your fingers full of black and grey colour – when your phone rang once again. It was placed right in front of you on the table of your living room, so you would never miss one of his messages or calls.

On the other hand, he seemed to arrange his phone calls always at times at which you were definitely at home and available. Could be coincidence, but you didn’t think so. He had been too obviously asking about your time schedule, your spare time and your weekends. Consequently, he knew exactly when you had time to talk and when not. That man was a miracle. He seemed to remember nearly everything that you had already told him. Sometimes catching you completely off guard with questions about topics you didn’t even recall talking about.

“Hello?” Trying to not sound too excited about his call didn’t quite work, but it had been worth a try.

“Did I interrupt something?” Came his answer almost instantly. His smooth, deep voice sounded a bit worried. “I would be terribly sorry if I did.”

Bastard, you thought, always with his friendliness and good manners, worrying and caring about everyone but himself.

“No. I’ve been painting until now, and needed to clean my hands, that’s why it took me a moment to answer.” Unable to suppress the smile that formed on your lips, you brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. Of course, you hadn’t actually cleaned your hands, but he didn’t have to know that you had nearly spent two minutes thinking about him before picking up the phone.

“Sorry. Shall I call again later?”

“NO!” Realizing that you had just screamed at him, you were quick to correct yourself. “I mean no, it’s fine. You couldn’t have known what I’m doing right now. Thank you for calling.” You rambled a bit but didn’t care about it. Tom had already witnessed so much since you two had met. Your blushing, the squeaky toy, cursing and following squeaking, your endless stuttering. He was a very patient and kind man. Everyone you had met before had – at one point – turned their back on you. Besides your friends, obviously. But you preferred to keep your circle of friends relatively small.

You heard him chuckle and immediately longed to see his face.

“It’s good to hear that I’m not the only one enjoying our little phone sessions.”

You felt yourself blush. Tom hadn’t said something like that before, you had simply assumed that he had to like it because he had been the one to always call you.

“How has your day been so far, darling?”

Darling, you knew he called literally everyone darling, but somehow you liked the way he pronounced it when he was talking to you.

“Good, thank you. Work was a bit stressful as always, but everything has been just fine until you called.”

“How am I supposed to understand this?” He mocked gently, obviously not in the intent to annoy or embarrass you. Just childish, but sort of adorable, joking around.

“That depends on your interpretation of it.” You teased, but seconds later you were already worrying about what you had just said.

“Huh, cheeky today.” You didn’t miss the amused tone in his voice. So he wasn’t angry or upset, good to know.

“No, that’s not-! I just….!” You felt your face flushing and internally thanked god that you were just talking and not seeing each other. The sweet and deep chuckle on the other side of the line startled you out of your slight daze.

“Don’t worry, calm down, darling.” The low tone sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s adorable.”

“Yeah, sure it is.” That you sounded that devastated hadn’t been the plan, but well, now you would have to go with it.

“No need to be so self-contemptuous.” It sounded as if he wanted to say something else but he kept quiet, giving you the chance to speak again.

“So how has your day been? We have just talked about my day so far.” Somehow that sentence just made you feel even more selfish than before.

“Well, you didn’t tell me anything specific, to be honest. So, I wouldn’t count that as <just talked about you>.”

You would have punched him if there hadn’t been a distance of more than just a few miles between you and if he hadn’t sounded that cute while talking.

“I told you that I’m painting.” You bit your lip, not wanting to tell him what exactly you had talked about with (Y/F) during your lunch break. There was absolutely no need to talk with him about something so embarrassing. And wouldn’t he feel awkward, too?

“Tell me about your day, please?” It was not meant to be a distraction, you were truly interested in his days. Perhaps one of the reasons was that in his life just basically happened more than in your plain and boring one. And of course, you cared. The first time you had talked on the phone, you had forgotten to ask him how he was and had felt tremendously guilty afterwards. And worried, too.

“Luke and I started planning the coming weeks, I read through a few scripts. Nothing astonishingly new.” You could swear you heard him sigh in…exhaustion? You had never heard such a strained exhale coming from him.

“What’s wrong? You seem a bit off?”

“Nothing is wrong. Thank you, darling, for worrying.” He was smiling, you could hear that. It eased a bit of the sudden concern that you had been overcome with.

“Uhm… but if you really want to know…” He laughed his sweet and unique laugh with a slight hint of bashfulness in his tone. “There is something I want to ask you.”

Something he wanted to ask you, your brain repeated. That could be basically everything. Something bad as well as something good. Perhaps he had rethought his decision to have given you his number. Or worse, he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

“I’m around (Y/C) at the moment and thought we could catch up on our dinner. That is, only if you want to, of course.”

You nearly messed up your painting, completely shocked and startled, not even able to answer him.

“Darling? Are you okay?” Did he really ask you that? After he had just told you that he was probably in your city, as if it was nothing?

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re already here?” The sound of your voice was close to that of your squeaky toy and instantly you felt yourself flush all over.

“I’m…” He seemed to be speechless for a brief instant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was supposed to be a surprise. I should have told you. I’m so sorry.”

The moment he said that, you felt a pang of guilt in your chest. “No I didn’t mean to – I was just surprised to hear that you’re here.” You hurried to say , the painting in front of you forgotten for a moment. Before you picked up your phone to press it against your ear, you wiped the paint off, using your pants for that. Maybe that hadn’t been a wise choice, but there hadn’t been anything else in reach at that moment. Now there were black and purple stripes all over your thighs.

“It’s been quite spontaneous. I didn’t want to get you involved if they hadn’t wanted to shoot the scenes here.”

How sweet of him, you thought abashed.

“What are you shooting for?”

There was a short, but amused, laugh on the other side of the line. “I can’t possibly tell you that.”

As you sighed disappointed, Tom chuckled softly.

“What about our dinner now, darling? You didn’t answer my question. We could finally see each other again, plus I could make up for having kept you waiting for so long.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, you could feel the heat rush into your cheeks and spread all the way to your ears.

“So, what do you say?” His tender voice startled you out of the sort of trance you had been in for a few seconds.

“We could go out tomorrow. Of course, that’s really at short notice, I know. It’s completely okay, therefore, when you don’t want to see me tomorrow.” He rambled a bit, but that couldn’t possibly annoy you when he was just being adorable. He could ramble on for hours and you would still hang on his lips, hungry for every word that left them. Everything on and about that man was so breathtakingly beautiful.

“I’m terribly sorry. Did I upset you?”

“No, you didn’t. You just… caught me off guard.” Being honest about your feelings seemed so much easier when you were talking to Tom. “And yes, of course. I’d love…” You had to pause to gather yourself. “I’d love to go out with you tomorrow.”

“You’re lovely. Thank you.”

The following short moment of silence, you used to put the phone down and recollect yourself enough to start painting again.

“I saw an Italian restaurant yesterday. What do you think?”

“Oh my god I love pasta!” Your joyous cheer was rewarded with his typical and oh so sweet laughter.

“I guess that was a yes then?”

“Yes, it is! When are you done shooting tomorrow?”

“At five. I would suggest you give me your address and I pick you up at seven?” There was definitely a hint of mischief in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes, that’s a good time.” You gave him your address, waited patiently for him to scribble it down and told him to use google maps or another navigation system, because there was literally no reasonable street system in (Y/C). Tom and you talked for the rest of the evening, covering a lot of serious and a lot of absolutely silly topics, but you laughed a lot, enjoying the deep rumble of his voice when he joined in.

The next day went by too quickly. You had had barely time to think about the coming evening until you stood in front of your apartment, unlocking the door and dropping your bag and jacket to the floor to rush straight into the bathroom. The shower came first, then the make-up – you went for eyeliner and mascara, that should be enough – and after you had finished all of that plus your hair, you stood in front of your closet and were faced with the next problem. What should you wear? What were you supposed to wear on your first date? You rummaged through your wardrobe, pulled out three dresses and tried them on. Of course, you could easily go with trousers and a nice blouse, but you felt more drawn to wearing a dress.

In the end, you chose the dark blue one with long sleeves and a wide skirt that just reached your knees. It didn’t look fancy, but it wasn’t boring at all. In fact, It was quite elegant and playful at once. That was, why you liked it that much.

You quickly dressed up and hurried into your living room. Half an hour and Tom would arrive to pick you up. Only 30 minutes until you would finally see him again.

The painting you had finished the previous day, during Tom’s and your nearly four hours long telephone call, lay on the table where you had left it. You knew exactly what you were going to do with it. Especially, after you had realized that the human face, that you had wanted to draw, had turned out to be that of Tom. A face painted with rough strokes, your fingers and only three colours: black, grey and purple. You had varied the shades of each colour, but all in all it was pretty colourless.

Carefully, you placed the painting in an envelope, so it couldn’t (hopefully) be damaged, and put it into your small handbag, not wanting to give it to Tom immediately. After all, you had worked for a few weeks on that.

You sat down and thumbed through a magazine, while you were still waiting. Too nervous to focus on anything, let alone read an article or do something effectively.

When the doorbell rang, you took a deep breath, flattened the skirt of your dress and stood up. But before you went to open the door, you hastily stuffed your little squeaky toy into your handbag. Now you were ready.

Perhaps you opened way too fast, or maybe you were just clumsy, but you found yourself in Tom’s arms, after you had stumbled and tripped over your own feet. His warm, strong arms were tightly wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest.

God, he smelled so good.

“Actually, I wanted to compliment you because you’re looking absolutely ravishing, but that’s okay too.”

You blushed and hid your face on his chest.

Oh no. What had you just done?

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The Struggle to Predictand PreventToxic Masculinity

Terrie Moffitt has been trying to figure out why men are terrible for more than 25 years. Or, to calibrate: Why some men are really terrible—violent, criminal, dangerous—but most men are not. And, while she’s at it, how to tell which man is going to become which.

A small number of people are responsible for the vast majority of crimes. Many of those people display textbook “antisocial behavior”—technically, a serious disregard for other people’s rights—as adolescents. The shape of the problem is called the age-crime curve, arrests plotted against the age of the offender. It looks like a shark’s dorsal fin, spiking in the teenage years and then long-tailing off to the left.

In 1992, Moffitt, now a psychologist at Duke University, pitched an explanation for that shape: The curve covers two separate groups. Most people don’t do bad things. Some people only do them as teenagers. And a very small number start doing them as toddlers and keep doing them until they go to prison or die. Her paper became a key hypothesis in psychology, criminology, and sociology, cited thousands of times.

In a review article in Nature Human Behaviour this week, Moffitt takes a ride through two decades of attempts to validate the taxonomy. Not for girls, Moffitt writes, because even though she studies both sexes, “findings have not reached consensus.” But for boys and men? Oh yeah.

To be clear, Moffitt isn’t trying to develop a toxicology of toxic masculinity here. As a researcher she’s interested in the interactions of genes and environment, and the reasons some delinquent children—but not all—turn into crime-committing adults. That’s a big enough project. But at this exact cultural moment, with women of the #MeToo movement calling sexual harassers and abusers to account just as mass shootings feel as if they’ve become a permanent recurring event—and when almost every mass shooter, up to and including the recent school shooting in Parkland, Florida, has been a man—I’m inclined to try to find explanations anywhere that seems plausible. US women are more likely to be killed by partners than anyone else. Men commit the vast majority of crimes in the US. So it’s worth querying Moffitt’s taxonomy to see if it offers any order to that chaos, even if it wasn’t built for it.

“Grown-ups who use aggression, intimidation, and force to get what they want have invariably been pushing other people around since their very early childhood,” Moffitt says via email from a rural vacation in New Zealand. “Their mothers report they were difficult babies, nursery day-care workers say they are difficult to control, and when all the other kids give up hitting and settle in as primary school pupils, teachers say they don’t. Their record of violating the rights of others begins surprisingly early, and goes forward from there.”

So if you could identify those kids then, maybe you could make things better later? Of course, things are way more complicated than that.

Since that 1993 paper, hundreds of studies have tested pieces of Moffitt’s idea. Moffitt herself has worked on a few prospective studies, following kids through life to see if they fall into her categories, and then trying to figure out why.

For example, she worked with the Dunedin Study, which followed health outcomes for more than 1,000 boys and girls in New Zealand starting in the early 1970s. Papers published from the data have included looks at marijuana use, physical and mental health, and psychological outcomes. Moffitt and her colleagues found that about a quarter of the males in the study fit the criteria she’d laid out for “adolescence limited” antisociability; they’re fine until they hit their teens, then they do all sorts of bad stuff, and then they stop. And 10 percent were “life-course persistent”—they have trouble as children, and it doesn’t stop. As adolescents, all had about the same rates of bad conduct.

But as children, the LCP boys scored much higher on a set of specific risks. Their mothers were younger. They tended to have been disciplined more harshly, and have experienced more family strife as kids. They scored lower on reading, vocabulary, and memory tests, and had a lower resting heart rate—some researchers think that people feel lower heart rates as discomfort and undertake riskier behaviors in pursuit of the adrenaline highs that’ll even them out. “LCP boys were impulsive, hostile, alienated, suspicious, cynical, and callous and cold toward others,” Moffitt writes of the Dunedin subjects in her Nature Human Behaviour article. As adults, “they self-reported excess violence toward partners and children.” They had worse physical and mental health in their 30s, were more likely to be incarcerated, and were more likely to attempt suicide.

Other studies have found much the same thing. A small number of identifiable boys turn into rotten, violent, unhappy men.

Could Moffitt’s taxonomy account for sexual harassers and abusers? In one sense, it seems unlikely: Her distinction explicitly says by adulthood there should only be a small number of bad actors, yet one of the lessons of #MeToo has been that every woman, it seems, has experienced some form of harassment.

Meta-analyses of the incidence of workplace sexual harassment vary in their outcomes, but a large-scale one from 2003 that covered 86,000 women reported that 56 percent experienced “potentially harassing” behaviors and 24 percent had definitely been harassed. Other studies get similar results.

But as pollsters say, check the cross-tabs. Harassment has sub-categories. Many—maybe most—women experience the gamut of harassing behaviors, but sub-categories like sexual coercion (being forced to have sex as a quid pro quo or to avoid negative consequences) or outright assault are rarer than basic institutional sexism and jerky, inappropriate comments. “What women are more likely to experience is everyday sexist behavior and hostility, the things we would describe as gender harassment,” says John Pryor, a psychologist at Illinois State University who studies harassment.

Obviously, any number greater than zero here is too high. And studies of prevalence can’t tell you if so many women are affected because all men harass at some low, constant ebb or few men do it, like, all the time. Judging by reports of accusations, the same super-creepy men who plan out sexual coercion may also impulsively grope and assault women. Those kind of behaviors, combined with the cases where many more accusers come forward after the first one, seem to me to jibe with the life-course persistent idea. “Sometimes people get caught for the first time as an adult, but if we delve into their history, the behavior has been there all along,” Moffitt says. “Violating the rights of others is virtually always a life-long lifestyle and an integral part of a person’s personality development.”

That means it’s worth digging into people’s histories. Whisper networks have been the de facto means of protecting women in the workplace; the taxonomy provides an intellectual framework for giving them a louder voice, because it suggests that men with a history of harassment and abuse probably also have a future of it.

Now, some writers have used the idea of toxic masculinity to draw a line between harassment, abuse, and mass shootings. They’re violent, and the perpetrators tend to be men. But here, Moffitt’s taxonomy may be less applicable.

Despite what the past few years have felt like, mass shootings are infrequent. And many mass shooters end up committing suicide or being killed themselves, so science on them is scant. “Mass shootings are such astonishingly rare, idiosyncratic, and multicausal events that it is impossible to explain why one individual decides to shoot his or her classmates, coworkers, or strangers and another does not,” write Benjamin Winegard and Christopher Ferguson in their chapter of The Wiley Handbook of the Psychology of Mass Shootings.

That said, researchers have found a few commonalities. The shooters are often suicidal, or more precisely have stopped caring whether they live or die, says Adam Lankford, a criminologist at the University of Alabama. Sometimes they’re seeking fame and attention. And they share a sense that they themselves are victims. “That’s how they justify attacking others,” Lankford says. “Sometimes the perceptions are based in reality—I was bullied, or whatever—but sometimes they can be exacerbated by mental health problems or personality characteristics.”

Though reports on mass shooters often say that more than half of them are also domestic abusers, that number needs some unpacking. People have lumped together mass shootings of families—domestic by definition—with public mass shootings like the one in Las Vegas, or school shootings. Disaggregate the public active shooters from the familicides and the number of shooters with histories of domestic abuse goes down. (Of course, that doesn’t change preposterously high number of abused women murdered by their partners outside of mass shooting events.)

What may really tip the mass shooter profile away from Moffitt’s taxonomy, though, is that people in the life-course persistent cohort do uncontrolled, crazy stuff all the time. Yes, some mass shooters have a history of encounters with law enforcement, let’s say. But some don’t. Mass shootings are, characteristically, highly planned events. “I’m not saying it’s impossible to be a mass shooter and have poor impulse control, but if you have poor impulse control you won’t be able to go for 12 months of planning an attack without ending up in jail first,” Lankford says.

Moffitt isn’t trying to build a unified field theory of the deadly patriarchy. When I suggest that the societal structures that keep men in power relative to women, generally, might explain the behavior of her LCP cohort, she disagrees. “If sexual harassment and mass shootings were the result of cultural patriarchy and societal expectations for male behavior, all men would be doing it all the time,” Moffitt says. “Even though media attention creates the impression that these forms of aggression are highly prevalent and all around us, they are nevertheless still extremely rare. Most men are trustworthy, good, and sensible.”

She and her colleagues continue to look for hard markers for violence or lack of impulse control, genes or neurobiological anomalies. (A form of the gene that codes for a neurotransmitter called monoamine oxidase inhibitor A might give some kids protection against lifelong effects of maltreatment, she and her team have found. By implication not having that polymorphism, then, could predispose a child raised under adverse circumstances to psychopathology as an adult.) Similarly, nobody yet knows what digital-native kids in either cohort will do when they move their bad behavior online. One might speculate that it looks a lot like GamerGate and 4chan, though that sociological and psychological work is still in early days.

But for now, Moffitt and her co-workers have identified risk factors and childhood conditions that seem to create these bad behaviors, or allow them to flourish. That’s the good news. “We know a lifestyle of aggression and intimidation toward others starts so young,” Moffitt says. “It could be preventable.”

Read more: https://www.wired.com/story/the-struggle-to-predictand-preventtoxic-masculinity/

from Viral News HQ https://ift.tt/2qVBXpg via Viral News HQ

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Why Do Men Cheat on Their Loved Ones and What They Actually Think

Now, now, before you get all “woman cheat too” and “this is a sexist subject” on me, I must disclose the fact that I agree with you. But statistically and historically, women have been asking the question, “why do men cheat?” since the beginning of the ages, apparently to no avail.

Are men more likely to cheat? Well, sadly, the answer is yes. But perhaps we can try to better understand this occurrence before we crucify the male species for their shortcomings.

Statistically speaking, men do cheat more than women. But not as many men as you may think.

It all comes down to the numbers. This whole topic is a hard pill to swallow, but rest assured, it actually isn’t as bad as you may predict. Now this all breaks down to a matter of relativity, what do you consider cheating? If you break it down on a purely physical and emotional level (leaving out the multitude of complications that arise from the internet) the statistics aren’t as bad as you may think!

According to data derived from the National Opinion Research Center, Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, Rutgers University, and a selection of other credible sources, what we feared remains to be true;[1] men do cheat more. But not by much.

In the data allotted, it has been found that:

An astonishingly low number of men in committed relationships admit to cheating.

Only 21% admit to doing so. Much lower than you thought, huh? Well you must consider that this is a matter of good will. Most cheaters will never admit to doing so, and if they do they’re either not afraid of being caught or have already informed their partners.

Most men would consider cheating if they thought that they would not get caught.

At 76% this rate is alarmingly high, but then again we’re only considering the imagination at work. The classic cliché, “you can look, but don’t touch” is the pinnacle of this point.

Cheating does not always stem from unhealthy relationships.

56% of the men who admitted to cheating also reported being content in their current relationships, and this was not a factor for their decision to cheat.

Monogamy, are we as humans meant to stay with one mate for life?

Sorry to break it to some of you die-hard romantics, but most experts say no. Only 3-5% of the remaining 5,000 mammals living on planet Earth (including humans) spend the entirety of their lives with solely one mate.

From an evolutionary perspective, men are more likely to engage in what is known as extramarital sex, for the purpose of “spreading their seed” and producing as much offspring as is naturally possible. Our closest ancestors the primates practice this form of mating, where the strongest male gets first choice of his supple mates. This plays into the ideal that men tend to experience more emotions of threatened territory or ego, rather than affection and intimacy.

Expert Jane Lancaster, an evolutionary anthropologist from the University of New Mexico believes that the monogamous partnership between men and women is only for the good of the offspring.

“The human species has evolved to make commitments between males and females in regards to raising their offspring, so this is a bond. However that bond can fit into all kinds of marriage patterns – polygyny, single parenthood, monogamy.”

How do you know if your man is cheating?

There are a few tell-tale signs to know if your man is sniffing around where he shouldn’t be. I’ve got to tell you, if you’re having suspicions and feel a need to dig; you’re probably right and need to realize you deserve better. But these are a few sure-fire ways to know.

He won’t show you his phone. It’s not even that he doesn’t give you his password. It might just be an indication that he feels the need to lock it around you. And if he seems to get antsy if you hold it a bit too long while scrolling for pictures, then you know something’s up.

Sudden change in interest. It seems that out of nowhere he’s distracted, and is creating some distance between you. There’s a possibility someone else may have caught his attention. Go with your gut instinct, it’s usually right.

You catch him lying. About where he’s been or who he was with. Unless he’s planning a surprise party for you, he has no reason to be sneaky.

He accuses you. This behavior is definitely a red flag if it starts out of nowhere. People only suspect what they themselves would do.

He clears his browser history. There are many few good reasons to do this. Maybe he’s just into weird porn? But that just opens a whole other can of worms.

He’s glued to his phone. Or the internet in general. How can anything in the virtual world be at all interesting when his QUEEN is sitting just next to him?

There is no good reason to cheat, but everyone has their reasons.

A quick refresh: there’s an unsettling array of reasons why men go out and cheat. And none of them are good reasons. But in the moment, they may feel justifiable to the individual. Perhaps if we could gain a better grasp on this fluke in human behavior, we can cope with it better when it happens to us. So why do men cheat?

1. The Illusion of Variety

As soon as you sign online you’re prompted with ads to “Meet Singles in Your Area” or the newest dating app. Perhaps they’re a social media guru, with hordes of literal followers worshiping their every move. There is an abundance of supposed variety on the internet. Because of this no man feels that he has to settle, and his next “Tinderella” is about to slide in his DM’s.

2. He’s A Puddle of Insecurity

He has something to prove. Mainly to himself. He doesn’t feel attractive. Or perhaps he’s been out of the dating game so long he needs to feel like “he’s still got it.”

3. Boredom

He feels like he needs something more sexually from his partner that they’re just not capable of giving. Or perhaps the relationship has hit a lull and the sex drive just isn’t kicking into gear. This is his way of pulling away in hopes that it will spice things up again, even if it’s only on his end.

4. Deviancy

Some people are just into weird things. However they came to acquire their quirky little fetish, they may feel that it’s just too weird for their partner. Instead of freaking them out, they act out their fantasies on paid company, or someone easy who doesn’t mind turning up the intensity.

5. They’re a F*** Boy

Pardon my language, but it has to be said. This turn of phrase has become alarmingly common in our hook up culture; and is somewhat encouraged. A F*** Boy is someone who does not intend on committing, and relishes in playing on people’s emotions to achieve sexual gratification.

They typically have a rotation of sexual partners, ranked in order of their appeal. These people are toxic. Stay away.

6. Immaturity

They have not yet reached a point where they prioritize honestly and loyalty. There’s a chance they never will.

7. Damaged

Whatever it is that hurt them, be it abuse during upbringing, or a bad relationship experience, they numb the pain with sexual gratification. They will never allow themselves to fully trust another individual, and therefore they cannot fully commit to them.

8. Skewed Concept of Love

They have not yet deciphered the different between being infatuated and being in-love. During the infatuation period everything the person does and says is intoxicating, exciting, and romantic. After a while the chemicals and hormones start to die down, and what you’re left with is raw intimacy. Many can’t hack it when it gets real, so they look for the idealistic romance elsewhere.

9. Addiction

They actually suffer from addiction. Perhaps they cheat when they are under the influence of their poison of choice, and quite literally cannot control their actions. Or maybe they do have their addiction under control, but use sex as a form of release. Sex itself can be an addiction.

10. He’s Leaving You

Maybe he’s not ready to leave yet, but he’s testing the waters; testing to see what’s out there. Some men have a real issue with being alone, so they like to have something on the back-burner to make the transition a bit more smooth.

11. Revenge

He’s mad at you for something, whatever it may be. And now you’re going to pay. He’s rectifying the situation by throwing away his relationship. Hey, whatever works.

Should you stay, or should you go?

Girl, do I even have to tell you? Dump him! I know, he’s damaged. I know, you want to fix him. I know, no one understands how he acts when it’s just you two alone. I’ve heard it all. I’ve said it all. But if you absolutely insist on going through the motions and giving this scrub another chance, here are a few suggestions:

Therapy. If you are absolutely, positively intent on saving this relationship, then this is your best bet. In this environment, you can have an expert mediate and interpret what you expose during your sessions and how it effects your relationship. If both participants are willing to work for it, the relationship can be saved.

Take a Break. Obviously he doesn’t appreciate what he has, so show him what he’s losing! Take a break to explore yourself, heal, discover your self-worth, and take a look around if you know what I mean. Once he realizes he can’t live without you he’ll come crawling right back. But the question is, will you want him?

Hall Pass. It’s only fair right? For the majority, this method probably won’t save your relationship. But for some it’s just the ticket! You deserve a free pass to even the scale.

Featured photo credit: Stocksnap via stocksnap.io

Reference

[1]^Credit Donkey: Infidelity Statistics: 23 Eye-Opening Truths

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Why Do Men Cheat on Their Loved Ones and What They Actually Think

Now, now, before you get all “woman cheat too” and “this is a sexist subject” on me, I must disclose the fact that I agree with you. But statistically and historically, women have been asking the question, “why do men cheat?” since the beginning of the ages, apparently to no avail.

Are men more likely to cheat? Well, sadly, the answer is yes. But perhaps we can try to better understand this occurrence before we crucify the male species for their shortcomings.

Statistically speaking, men do cheat more than women. But not as many men as you may think.

It all comes down to the numbers. This whole topic is a hard pill to swallow, but rest assured, it actually isn’t as bad as you may predict. Now this all breaks down to a matter of relativity, what do you consider cheating? If you break it down on a purely physical and emotional level (leaving out the multitude of complications that arise from the internet) the statistics aren’t as bad as you may think!

According to data derived from the National Opinion Research Center, Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, Rutgers University, and a selection of other credible sources, what we feared remains to be true;[1] men do cheat more. But not by much.

In the data allotted, it has been found that:

An astonishingly low number of men in committed relationships admit to cheating.

Only 21% admit to doing so. Much lower than you thought, huh? Well you must consider that this is a matter of good will. Most cheaters will never admit to doing so, and if they do they’re either not afraid of being caught or have already informed their partners.

Most men would consider cheating if they thought that they would not get caught.

At 76% this rate is alarmingly high, but then again we’re only considering the imagination at work. The classic cliché, “you can look, but don’t touch” is the pinnacle of this point.

Cheating does not always stem from unhealthy relationships.

56% of the men who admitted to cheating also reported being content in their current relationships, and this was not a factor for their decision to cheat.

Monogamy, are we as humans meant to stay with one mate for life?

Sorry to break it to some of you die-hard romantics, but most experts say no. Only 3-5% of the remaining 5,000 mammals living on planet Earth (including humans) spend the entirety of their lives with solely one mate.

From an evolutionary perspective, men are more likely to engage in what is known as extramarital sex, for the purpose of “spreading their seed” and producing as much offspring as is naturally possible. Our closest ancestors the primates practice this form of mating, where the strongest male gets first choice of his supple mates. This plays into the ideal that men tend to experience more emotions of threatened territory or ego, rather than affection and intimacy.

Expert Jane Lancaster, an evolutionary anthropologist from the University of New Mexico believes that the monogamous partnership between men and women is only for the good of the offspring.

“The human species has evolved to make commitments between males and females in regards to raising their offspring, so this is a bond. However that bond can fit into all kinds of marriage patterns – polygyny, single parenthood, monogamy.”

How do you know if your man is cheating?

There are a few tell-tale signs to know if your man is sniffing around where he shouldn’t be. I’ve got to tell you, if you’re having suspicions and feel a need to dig; you’re probably right and need to realize you deserve better. But these are a few sure-fire ways to know.

He won’t show you his phone. It’s not even that he doesn’t give you his password. It might just be an indication that he feels the need to lock it around you. And if he seems to get antsy if you hold it a bit too long while scrolling for pictures, then you know something’s up.

Sudden change in interest. It seems that out of nowhere he’s distracted, and is creating some distance between you. There’s a possibility someone else may have caught his attention. Go with your gut instinct, it’s usually right.

You catch him lying. About where he’s been or who he was with. Unless he’s planning a surprise party for you, he has no reason to be sneaky.

He accuses you. This behavior is definitely a red flag if it starts out of nowhere. People only suspect what they themselves would do.

He clears his browser history. There are many few good reasons to do this. Maybe he’s just into weird porn? But that just opens a whole other can of worms.

He’s glued to his phone. Or the internet in general. How can anything in the virtual world be at all interesting when his QUEEN is sitting just next to him?

There is no good reason to cheat, but everyone has their reasons.

A quick refresh: there’s an unsettling array of reasons why men go out and cheat. And none of them are good reasons. But in the moment, they may feel justifiable to the individual. Perhaps if we could gain a better grasp on this fluke in human behavior, we can cope with it better when it happens to us. So why do men cheat?

1. The Illusion of Variety

As soon as you sign online you’re prompted with ads to “Meet Singles in Your Area” or the newest dating app. Perhaps they’re a social media guru, with hordes of literal followers worshiping their every move. There is an abundance of supposed variety on the internet. Because of this no man feels that he has to settle, and his next “Tinderella” is about to slide in his DM’s.

2. He’s A Puddle of Insecurity

He has something to prove. Mainly to himself. He doesn’t feel attractive. Or perhaps he’s been out of the dating game so long he needs to feel like “he’s still got it.”

3. Boredom

He feels like he needs something more sexually from his partner that they’re just not capable of giving. Or perhaps the relationship has hit a lull and the sex drive just isn’t kicking into gear. This is his way of pulling away in hopes that it will spice things up again, even if it’s only on his end.

4. Deviancy

Some people are just into weird things. However they came to acquire their quirky little fetish, they may feel that it’s just too weird for their partner. Instead of freaking them out, they act out their fantasies on paid company, or someone easy who doesn’t mind turning up the intensity.

5. They’re a F*** Boy

Pardon my language, but it has to be said. This turn of phrase has become alarmingly common in our hook up culture; and is somewhat encouraged. A F*** Boy is someone who does not intend on committing, and relishes in playing on people’s emotions to achieve sexual gratification.

They typically have a rotation of sexual partners, ranked in order of their appeal. These people are toxic. Stay away.

6. Immaturity

They have not yet reached a point where they prioritize honestly and loyalty. There’s a chance they never will.

7. Damaged

Whatever it is that hurt them, be it abuse during upbringing, or a bad relationship experience, they numb the pain with sexual gratification. They will never allow themselves to fully trust another individual, and therefore they cannot fully commit to them.

8. Skewed Concept of Love

They have not yet deciphered the different between being infatuated and being in-love. During the infatuation period everything the person does and says is intoxicating, exciting, and romantic. After a while the chemicals and hormones start to die down, and what you’re left with is raw intimacy. Many can’t hack it when it gets real, so they look for the idealistic romance elsewhere.

9. Addiction

They actually suffer from addiction. Perhaps they cheat when they are under the influence of their poison of choice, and quite literally cannot control their actions. Or maybe they do have their addiction under control, but use sex as a form of release. Sex itself can be an addiction.

10. He’s Leaving You

Maybe he’s not ready to leave yet, but he’s testing the waters; testing to see what’s out there. Some men have a real issue with being alone, so they like to have something on the back-burner to make the transition a bit more smooth.

11. Revenge

He’s mad at you for something, whatever it may be. And now you’re going to pay. He’s rectifying the situation by throwing away his relationship. Hey, whatever works.

Should you stay, or should you go?

Girl, do I even have to tell you? Dump him! I know, he’s damaged. I know, you want to fix him. I know, no one understands how he acts when it’s just you two alone. I’ve heard it all. I’ve said it all. But if you absolutely insist on going through the motions and giving this scrub another chance, here are a few suggestions:

Therapy. If you are absolutely, positively intent on saving this relationship, then this is your best bet. In this environment, you can have an expert mediate and interpret what you expose during your sessions and how it effects your relationship. If both participants are willing to work for it, the relationship can be saved.

Take a Break. Obviously he doesn’t appreciate what he has, so show him what he’s losing! Take a break to explore yourself, heal, discover your self-worth, and take a look around if you know what I mean. Once he realizes he can’t live without you he’ll come crawling right back. But the question is, will you want him?

Hall Pass. It’s only fair right? For the majority, this method probably won’t save your relationship. But for some it’s just the ticket! You deserve a free pass to even the scale.

Featured photo credit: Stocksnap via stocksnap.io

Reference

[1]^Credit Donkey: Infidelity Statistics: 23 Eye-Opening Truths

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