#v: construct of science

[emo-batboy]

Battinson Guest Starring on TV Shows

SO

For someone who holds the title of Richest Man in the World, Bruce doesn’t do a lot of traveling.

Which is to say he does a LOT of traveling, but he always tries to find a way out of it.

(Are there bat-related reasons for this? Are there people-related reasons for this? Are there anxiety-related reasons for this? Who knows?)

But partners and sponsors aren’t always going to tolerate his hermit-like tendencies. So once every month or so, Alfred wrangles Bruce into a private jet and sends him off to who knows where so he can represent the company.

Usually, it’s somewhere close on the East Coast, maybe it’s across the pond, even Asia isn’t off the table, but the rarest place to spot Bruce Wayne is actually the West Coast of the US.

One day, it is announced that Bruce Wayne will be spending two (count ‘em, 2) consecutive weeks in California with his kids for some grand business convention.

The West Coast media goes feral with the news, ESPECIALLY interviewers. And because Bruce kicks up such a fuss this time, Alfred has the gall to sign him up for FOUR TV appearances.

Here are these appearances :)

RuPaul’s Drag Race

Drag Queens, especially Drag Race all-stars, contribute to a wide variety of charities

So on a new episode, the queens are challenged to design and shoot a promotional ad for their own charity

And who better to act as a guest judge for this episode than the show’s largest benefactor, CEO of the Wayne Foundation, Bruce Wayne?!

Physically? He’s older than half of the contestants. But spiritually? He screams Baby Gay.

Fifteen minutes into the episode, Bruce is welcomed into the werkroom where he gives them pointers on their campaign. He’s in his cute little three-piece suit (Alfred’s idea) with the intention of looking put-together and knowledgeable. But that’s not the only outcome.

They all flirt with him. Everyone, single or taken. The confessionals are so thirsty.

“He’s lucky the cameras are on. Otherwise, I’d eat him up faster than a bachelorette party in a buffet line.”

“My celebrity crush is talking to me, and all I can focus on are his gorgeous eyes. How am I supposed to know what he's saying?”

Of course, they shoot their shot, but most of it is joking since they don't know he's bi yet.

“Are you single, honey?” Bruce blushes. “It’s complicated.” “Well, I’ll make it simple for you.”

We all know this man can't handle being flirted with. We saw how he froze when Selina did it. It’s like he mentally bluescreens when someone calls him a pet name.

Only THEN do they learn he's bi

One of the queens jokingly asks him, “Ever been with a man before?” thinking it would be a firm no, but Bruce says, “Actually, yes.” “Oh shit, really?” And to Bruce’s embarrassment, the whole room hears him.

The flirting is thus taken up a notch.

On the main stage, Bruce has a lot of great constructive criticism. He talks about how to find the right audience, the importance of a good slogan, and even goes on a little rant about logo design.

(You cannot convince me that Bruce hasn’t hyperfixated on the business of charity work before. Or the science of marketing. They’re his favorite business topics.)

After about three minutes of him complimenting one contestant for their Drag Library pitch, he stops himself mid-sentence and says, “Oh sorry, am I talking too much?” “No, please! Keep talking, sweetheart.” Bruce covers his face to hide his blush. “Why is everyone flirting with me?” “Baby, have you seen yourself?”

While the judges deliberate, RuPaul mentions Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent. Bruce nods along for a while then suddenly just blurts out, “Wait, does it spell ****?”

The judges pause then burst out laughing. “Oh no, we’ve traumatized him!" Bruce is blushing up a storm. “I just never thought about it like that!” “Sweet, innocent Bruce. We’re so sorry.”

It’s later revealed that Bruce offered to help some of the queens launch their charity projects through the Wayne Foundation.

It’s v cute 🥰

Nailed It!

I love Nicole Byer.

She is Mother.

In all seriousness, she’s so fucking funny and she’s personable enough to pull Bruce out of his shell a bit.

The theme for this episode is Found Family. Three pairs of family members compete together—a gay father and his adopted son, an aunt who adopted her niece, and a stepfather and stepdaughter.

Because Bruce Wayne famously adopted two children, he is invited to guest judge.

So Nicole opens the episode with a zinger, the contestants are introduced, and Bruce is welcomed onto the judge’s panel beside Nicole and Jacques.

(Yes, Bruce does speak French. Yes, Nicole makes a joke about it being hot.)

Nicole: “We were surprised you accepted our invitation, Mr. Wayne. You’re notorious for staying on the East Coast. What brought you to the Nailed It! Studio?” Bruce: “My children love this show. They always tell me I should be on it since I’m so bad at baking.” Nicole: “Really? Maybe we should do a celebrity season of Nailed It! and have you compete.” Bruce: “No, you should not.”

Nicole: “So, Bruce, I know you have a butler at home who bakes for you. But what’s the grossest thing you’ve eaten? Escargot? Bad caviar?” Bruce: “I drank olive oil straight from the bottle once.” Nicole: “…What?”

The problem for Bruce is he can’t say anything bad. It just feels mean :(

(And he would rather jump into oncoming traffic than gamble with a social interaction)

For the first challenge, the contestants make cake pops. But when Bruce tries the first one, there is a sickening crunch. Bruce’s eyes widen for a second and he slowly chews.

Nicole: “What was that? Bruce, are you okay?” Bruce, clearly struggling: “It’s…good.”

“Bruce, you can spit it out. It’s okay.” “I already swallowed it.” “Oh, you poor thing.” Bruce chokes for a second, and Nicole pats his back. “Please don’t die. We can’t afford it.”

For the big challenge, production has a surprise in store for Bruce.

Dick (9) and Jason (7) run onto the set and smother Bruce with a hug.

It’s adorable. Bruce no longer cares about paying attention, okay? His kids are here :D

The two boys read from cue cards to announce the second challenge: a three-tiered Gotcha Day cake. And as per tradition, the winner of the first challenge gets a leg-up.

This time, it’s a Helping Hands Button. When they hit the button, Dick and Jason will run over and help them for three minutes. (While being supervised, of course.)

As the contestants bake, Nicole says hello to Dick and Jason, who are clambering all over Bruce like a jungle gym. They both shake her hand and talk about how they love the show.

Nicole looks pointedly at the two empty chairs beside Bruce. “You know, we brought these chairs for you two to sit in.” Dick, on Bruce’s shoulders: “We’re fine, Ms. Byer!” Nicole: “Ms. Byer? Oh, you’re a cutie, aren’t you?”

Just ten minutes before the challenge is over, the Helping Hands button is pressed, and Dick and Jason are given stools so they can help the aunt and niece stack their cake tiers.

Two minutes in, the aunt instructs them to let go of the cake. But the moment Jason pulls his hands away, the cake topples over and covers him in frosting. Jason, whispering: “Oh f*ck.” Bruce: “Jason!” Jason: “I didn’t say that! Dick did!” Nicole: *cackling as Bruce buried his face in his hands*

Jason gets cleaned up, and Dick helps them stack what can still be salvaged.

When Wes brings out the trophy, he’s dressed as Batman. Dick and Jason gets a kick out of that.

Celebrity Family Feud

Bruce was invited to the show after his SNL skit went viral a few months ago

This episode, the teams are split up by cities they grew up in. Gotham v. Star City. Naturally, his team is playing for the Wayne Foundation.

It’s a pretty odd cast of people, most of them having moved to LA or Hollywood. Bruce is the only one to still live in Gotham.

They have fun, though, despite their limited common ground. The audience has a few good laughs.

(Some at Bruce's expense)

Harvey: You're a very wealthy man, Mr. Wayne. What do you really do in that tower all day? Bruce: I, uh…business? Harvey: …You business. Bruce: ……Wait-

All in good fun. Bruce just vibes in his little corner until he needs to answer a question. It's pretty chill.

For exactly half of the episode.

Then it happens.

Steve Harvey takes two people from each team up to the buzzer and says, “We asked 100 people: Name something your parents always told you as a kid.”

What the production failed to consider is how this particular question might be a sensitive topic for some contestants.

Bruce’s team gets the question, and Steve saunters up to Bruce, completely oblivious.

“Alright, Bruce Wayne!” Bruce nods awkwardly. “Hi, Steve.” “Bruce, what’s wrong? You’re looking a bit uncomfortable.” “…I don’t like this question, Steve.” “Why not?” Bruce just gives him a desperate look, and it clicks. “Oh! Oh my gosh!”

Let’s be real. Bruce is awkward enough, but Steve Harvey cannot save an awkward moment for his life either.

But he tries his best anyway and asks, “Are you okay with answering this question, or would you like to pass?” Bruce nods frantically. “I can answer. ‘I love you.’” “I love you too, Mr. Wayne.” “No, uh, my answer is ‘I love you.’” “Oh! That’s a good one.”

Thankfully, the audience erupts in laughter. That little interaction cuts the tension, and Bruce’s answer ends up on the board.

And by god, the memes

“I love you too, Mr. Wayne” is the new “Enjoy your meal.” “You too.”

The audio clip of “I don’t like this question, Steve” goes viral on TikTok

Someone gets a pic of Bruce and Steve looking at each other with palpable fear in their eyes, and it makes its rounds all over Twitter

10/10 never again

Running Wild with Bear Grylls

Now this is the most challenging. Not because it’s difficult, of course. But because Bruce has to look stupid enough to maintain his Brucie Wayne persona but smart enough to keep himself safe.

For this episode, Bear takes Bruce to the California desert.

“How much do you know about survival, Bruce?” Bear asks. Bruce nods carefully. “I did some survival training once with a friend from boarding school.” “Oh really, how did you do?” “Fine, I think.”

This is, of course, his way of saying I trained with a league of assassins for years, but Bear can’t know that! And that’s how most of the episode goes.

Thank god Bruce's fear of being caught is mistaken for being scared of the physical challenge because every time Bear points out how well he’s doing, he breaks into a sweat.

Bear: For a businessman, you’re surprisingly fit. Bruce, sweating bullets: Oh, this is all just for show.

Bear: Wow, you’re a natural. Are you sure you’ve never set up a zip-line before? Bruce, gripping his equipment so tight he gets rope burn: I think it’s just the survival instincts.

Of course, he pretends to be out of breath a few times. The Drama.

Bruce, pretending to slip and fall: Ouch! Who knew the outdoors were so dangerous? Bear, you are crazy. Bruce, internally: How much longer are we doing this?

Bruce being a vegetarian is actually a point of contention. You see, Bear always makes their celebrity guests do something crazy for food like skin a snake or eat a mouse. Scavenging for berries just doesn’t grab the audience’s attention.

But do you know what is vegetarian?

Bear: Now, in extreme cases of survival, it’s not rare for humans to resort to drinking their own pee. That’s what we’ll be doing in a moment. Are you up for it? Bruce, visibly repulsed: I’ve had Gotham tap water. I’ll be fine.

How on God’s Green Earth did Alfred convince him to do this?

To get to the extraction point, Bear takes Bruce down a cliffside.

Bear shows Bruce the meticulous process of properly belaying from the top of a cliff, and Bruce, who has done this over 100 times is like, “Wow that’s so dangerous :( Will we be okay?”

He really tries to ramp up his acting skills this time.

(Little does he know that’s not necessary.)

Bruce goes down first as Bear belays with a cameraman filming from the top. Halfway down, Bruce hears a scuffle, and the cameraman yells, “F*ck!”

Bruce looks up, arms already out for protection, and he sees a small disk falling towards him. It’s the lens cap. He catches it on instinct.

For a second, he thinks, “Shit, was that too skilled? That’s not enough to make people think I’m Batman, right? I just caught it in midair while dangling from a cliff. That’s totally not weird and suspicious. Normal people do that—“

Then Bear yells, “Bruce, drop it!” Bruce looks up at Bear, confused. “Why?” “There's a scorpion!” That’s when Bruce looks at the lens cap and sees a black scorpion perched on top with its tail ready to strike.

They don’t have those in Gotham.

Bruce jumps in his harness and flings the cap at the rocky cliffside. He hears a crunch, and the scorpion and cap tumble to the ground. Bruce frowns. Can a scorpion survive that drop?

“You just killed a scorpion, mate!” Bear cries. Bruce looks up in horror. “I killed it?!” “Hell yeah!” Bruce’s face falls. “No!”

Because oh. shit.

Bruce just killed something. The sad, orphaned vegetarian just killed a scorpion.

Bruce has a meltdown.

He didn’t mean to kill it!!!! Oh no, he just killed an innocent little creature. Yeah, he punches people for fun sometimes, and he definitely put a few violent criminals in the hospital, but he’s never committed MURDER!!

This poor little scorpion died due to his own negligence, and he feels so so so bad about it.

Bruce is a mess as he climbs the rest of the way down.

Bruce, cradling the scorpion’s body: I don’t know how to perform CPR on a scorpion! Bear: Bruce, you took its head clean off. Bruce: *sad noises*

Legit inconsolable. To him, it’s like he just murdered a puppy

Once they're out, Bear is trying to cheer him up. Bless him.

Bear: We’ve conquered the wild! Haven’t we, Bruce? Bruce, head between his legs, still mourning the scorpion: I’m never going outside again.

Yeah, no one’s going to think he’s Batman after that.

And that's all four of Bruce's TV appearances from the West Coast :) Dick and Jason never let him live any of it down. Alfred is almost sorry. (He is not sorry.)

Let me know your thoughts! What other TV shows do you think Battinson would appear on as a guest?

Okie dokie :D Love y'all! Have a good day <3

[pinguwrites]

Ooooh, what about this? Future!reader accidentally time traveled to 1940s when she met William Killick, and he had to take care of her due to injuries she had. She ended up staying with him while rejecting his advances because she was trying to find a way to go back to future, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if she were to accept his advances, but she didn’t know William was sabotaging the solutions to ensure she would stay with him forever.

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL LIKE HOLY SHIT. I was about to write something like this with Tommy in Black Heart, but I opted out, and I hadn't even considered this with William, so I'm so glad you requested it!!

this was supposed to be a short-length fic lol, it's like the longest thing I've ever written on here

Home Is Where the Heart Is ⸻ William Killick

pairing | william killick x future!reader

summary | You don't think much of the box when it arrives at your front door. That is, until you open it and are transported decades into the past. There, you fall into the arms of a handsome soldier, who is intent on making you stay.

word count | 9k

Warnings: DUB-CON, possessive!william, future!reader, period typical sexism it's okay when it's william, reader has a software job, weird time travel plot (who knows how the box got there? it's totally not going to be revealed in part two ;) ), mentions of war, reader simps so hard, p in v sex, breeding kink

Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

A/N: I'm honestly not too proud with how rushed it was, but I'm glad it's out there. I'm definitely doing a part two. Be warned for errors.

You were lying in a field of grass, tall, bushy trees lining the area around you. You seemed to be in some type of countryside because in the distance you could faintly see quaint little houses and farmland (at least, you assumed it was; your vision was awfully blurry), but other than that, you had no clue as to where you were.

“Ah,” you hissed, noticing the cut on your body. When you arrived — however that happened — you had scrapped your arm on a sharp rock embedded in the dirt, and now it was bleeding, red blood trickling down your arm.

You sighed miserably, trying to make sense of the situation.

Yesterday, a packaged box arrived on your front doorstep. No address, no company, just a note in pen, To [Y/n] [L/n]. You were a little wary of its contents but brought it inside anyway. You opened it and uncovered a machine, steel and simple in its construction, yet difficult to understand. There was no instruction manual or labels for the buttons, and it took you a while to know if you were even looking at it right, the only hint being the Roman numerals inside the dials.

After tinkering around with it, you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, you were in a completely other place. All you had on were your clothes, some money, and your phone, which, surprise surprise, had no signal, so all you could do was look at your downloads — completely useless — and take a photo. 

I must’ve been drugged, you thought, still feeling hazy. I should have called the cops the moment I realized something was off.

You got up and took off your socks, trying to stop the bleeding with it. It wasn’t the most hygienic, but it was all you had at the moment, and you weren’t about to tear off pieces of the shirt you had on, especially not when you were already shivering. 

The contraption had traveled with you, and though you were aware it was the reason you were here in the first place, you thought it better to bring it along, as evidence. You could show it to the government, and they could use their little science ways to find the culprit. All would be fine.

All will be fine.

You started walking. You didn’t have any shoes on for protection, so it was difficult to step across the dirt, with all its rocks and insects swarming about, but you managed to get to grass quick enough, and it felt much better, almost healing to walk barefoot on the softness of mother nature.

But you didn’t get very far. Eventually, your stomach started grumbling, and you felt like your intestines were twisting inside with desperation. Your sock was now red, and your hand was trembling, so with a defeated sigh, you let go, of both the sock and the heavy machine, allowing the blood to flow freely. You bent over to pick the sock back up first, but the sudden movement made your head reel, and before you knew it, you were out again.

+++

“You’re awake,” a voice said, a male’s voice, a British accent that sounded like butter. Oh, butter, if you could get your hands on that alone you would be satisfied. 

You opened your eyes, blinking. A figure, with pale skin and dark hair made it’s way over to you, and in a panic, you crawled away, eyes darting across the room. You were on a bed, bandages on your arm, but before you could calm down or even begin to think properly, panic took over, your heart rate elevated, and you sighed, before passing out again.

+++

For about the third time today, or however long you were out, you woke up. This time your vision was much clearer, but you still had this nasty migraine in your head. You were sick inside, the kind of sick that happens when you haven’t eaten in a while but can’t eat because you feel like you’ll throw up. 

You wondered if you were in the same place again. You remembered a man, with a soothing voice, but he wasn’t here right now. Though the possibility that you had been kidnapped entered your mind, you noticed the lack of bonds and chains on your body. He was probably just helping you, you reasoned.

You slowly got out of bed, wincing at the shooting pain in your arm. You observed your surroundings. The bedroom was very minimalist, and . . . quirky. You loved the design and the materials used, as it reminded you of a cottage, but there was nothing helpful in sight. All the technology you could see, like the kitchen, needed to be updated and was worn out. There was some type of record player, or CD tape, or whatever that was called, on one of the counters and a radio beside it. 

You didn’t bother with any of that. You were thirsty, throat dry and gnawing at you, so you went to look for water, hoping that whoever lived here didn’t go out and get it from a fucking well. He probably does. Look at this place!

“Shit!” you swore, your knees buckling from underneath you. You felt so weak and miserable and vulnerable. It hit you at this moment that you were probably a hundred miles away from home, in a strange place in a strange home you’d never seen before. How were you going to get back? What were you going to do?

Tears started welling in your eyes. You hated that you were being so emotional. Why couldn’t you toughen up and deal with the situation like a proper adult?

You leaned onto the counter, trying to balance yourself, when the front door opened up, and the man you saw before walked in, carrying a bag full of vegetables and other foods. He quickly placed the bag down and held you in his arms, his warmth comforting and relaxing.

He had short, dark hair, and a sharp jawline, and from this distance, you could see light freckles scattered across his cheeks. He had the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen, like glaciers, like the ocean. Fuck, he was so handsome. 

“Here,” he said, guiding you back to the bedroom. He set you down on the bed, gazing at you with such intensity, like adoration or devotion. 

“W-who are you?” you asked, voice cracking. “Where am I? Hngh.” You rubbed your temples. Didn’t he have any pain medications?

“My name is William. William Killick,” the man introduced softly. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.” He went off into the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. You drank it slowly, the cool liquid flowing through your body, wetting your mouth. “I didn’t know if you had family nearby, so I took you to my place.”

William paused, as if thinking of what to say next. “Get more rest, it’s night.”

You hadn’t even noticed the time, but one look out the window told you he was right. It was pitch black outside.

“You’ll wake up tomorrow, and have some breakfast.”

You shook your head, and handed the glass back to him, only for him to set it down on the nightstand table. “Where’s my phone? Where’s my . . . box?”

He stared at you blankly, before clearing his throat. “Your stuff is in the back. I didn't know what it was — hey, don’t move.” William’s strong hands kept you in place, pushing you back down to the bed as gently as he could whilst still keeping a firm grip. “Rest,” he ordered. “Don’t need you fainting on me again.”

You wanted to argue, but you couldn’t. You laid your head on the pillow, without a choice but to trust William, and fell asleep, wrapping yourself in the blanket with a content sigh. All the questions you had, all the thoughts, faded away and were replaced by darkness.

+++

You dreamt of yourself and yourself. You, the spectator, were standing outside a window, but it wasn’t just any window. It was your window, the one that led to the inside of your bedroom, where you could see you and William — the strange man — entangled in the sheets. Lovers. You two were lovers. You two were making love. 

Anyone would have felt creepy watching someone else, and anyone would have noticed someone watching them, but none of that happened. The sun should have cast a shadow on you, but it didn't. The passerby should have called you out, but they didn’t. 

You had just enough awareness to realize that this was a dream. How were you back at home already? Why were you and William kissing?

While originally you felt nothing, like a simple observer without thoughts, you were suddenly flooded with heavy emotions. Confusion, shame, lust, confusion.

But in just a few moments, the world around you crumbled, like an earthquake, and the sun and moon passed by, stars moving across the heavens, and you were warped by time, back in the same place you were before. 

+++

You woke up with a gasp, cold sweat running down your body, and immediately William was by your side. You rested your head on his chest, grasping onto his shirt desperately, not wanting him to leave. 

“Shh, shh,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair.

“Sorry,” you muttered, making no effort to leave his side. “I don’t know . . .”

“Shh.”

You both were like this for a while. Faint images of your dream passed through your mind, and from what little you remembered, you assumed it had been a wet dream. 

I can’t believe it, you thought. Having a wet dream — about a guy I barely met. Control yourself!

You pulled away, already missing his warmth. William frowned a little but didn’t say anything. “What’s your name, darling?” he asked. 

You hesitated.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“[Y/n],” you finally told him. “Where are we?”

William narrowed his eyes. You had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on, but you didn’t want to press.

“Wales,” William answered.

You froze. How the fuck did you get to Wales? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

“Um, that’s nice,” you said awkwardly. “How long has it been since you found me?”

“A few days.”

You tried not to panic, but all you could think about was your job and your friends and your family. Have you been reported missing yet?

“You must be hungry,” William said. “I’ll cook something for you. I’m not the best, but I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”

“It’s alright.” You waved his concern off, though it did tug at your heartstrings that he was worried. “I'll get some fast food.”

You dug through your pockets, hoping your wallet was still in there. Thankfully it was. You pulled it out and grabbed two crisp twenty-dollar bills, but William hissed and pushed it back in, his hand not leaving yours. 

“What are you doing carrying around that much money?” he asked, giving you an incredulous look. “How are you meant to protect yourself? Where’d you get that? Do you have a husband?”

You pushed his hand away. “I work. And what’s the problem?” 

You knew that the American dollar wasn’t equivalent to a British pound, but was the difference that bad? Sure, forty dollars was a lot of money if you were just going to a gas station or something, but nothing to get excited over. 

William huffed. “You can’t just show me that much money like that. What if I was a thief, hmm? What would you do then?”

“Are you?” you asked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal out of it.

“No. I’m a gentleman.”

You scoffed, amused, but there was a little smile on your face. “A gentleman?”

“Yes,” he insisted. “A proper man.”

There was a moment of silence between you both. You wanted him to hold you again, but you thought it would be best if you just went on your way. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, getting up from the bed. “And bandaging me and all.” You gave him one of the bills. “I know it’s in dollars, but I’m sure you can convert it.”

William didn’t take the money. “You’re not leaving — you’re still hurt. I’d be remiss if I let a lass half as pretty as you alone on the streets.”

You chalked up his way of talking to the region. You honestly found it quite attractive. That, coupled with his British accent, made you feel like you were in one of those romance movies. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t in love with you and that you were just acting irrational and horny.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll exchange numbers, do you have a charger?”

“What?”

“A phone charger. My phone’s probably dead.”

“The box?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, the rectangle. The phone.”

“Ah, the one that glows?”

You briefly wondered if he simply didn’t know what a phone was. You knew some people preferred not to have modern technology in their life.

“Yes. I need to call someone — ”

“ — It stopped glowing.”

Great. William obviously didn’t have a charger. And if he didn’t know what it was, no one nearby would. All that was next to do would be to walk to a big city and hope someone there could help you get back home.

“Look, darling.” You ignored the way your heart fluttered when he called you that. “I don’t know what a phone is, or why you’re here, but I know that you still need to recover.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. “But I really have to go. I have work and — ”

“ — Surely you can take a day off. What is it you do?” William asked. 

“I’m a software developer. I code.”

William had a blank face. A pink blush dusted his cheeks. He cleared his throat, “I, er, I’ve never heard of that. You mean computers? The big ones that take up a room?”

“No, it’s not the fifties.”

“Well, 1946 is close.”

You didn’t know what to make of that. “What does 1946 have to do with this?”

William observed you intently. “The year. The year is 1946.”

You blinked. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be the 20th century — that was impossible. So many things were wrong with that. How come it was you who traveled in time? Why didn’t the government know about this? Even if you were ignoring the question of how, there were still so many whys.  

“No,” you said slowly, inching away from William. What kind of sick prank was this? He was supposed to be helping you, not confusing you. “You’re messing with me.”

William sensed that you were uncomfortable, because he backed away, his hands in the air. You could tell he was waiting for the perfect moment to get closer.

“I’m not a liar . . . Are you from the future?”

Fuck. You weren’t sure. How could that even be possible?

“No,” you said hesitantly. “I dunno, I must be . . .”

Your eyes subtly peered past William and at the door. If only you could get past him . . . 

You looked straight at the window, making sure to grab his attention. “Oh,” you whispered, putting on your best shocked expression. The moment he was distracted you sprinted past him and bolted out of the room and out the house, running across the field to the next house you could see. Your arm still hurt, but you were willing to shove down the pain.

“No, no, please!” William shouted, running after you. 

In just a minute, he had caught up to you and tackled you to the ground. He pinned your hands above your head and sat on your lower stomach, rendering you useless. His lips were so close to yours, and the look on his face was pissed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice forceful, gripping onto your wrists tighter. 

“P-please,” you pathetically sputtered out. “Don’t hurt me.”

He didn’t budge. “I’m trying to help you — I’m not lying to you, and I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me now,” you cried, squirming.

William’s eyes softened as he realized what he was doing. “You promise not to run again?”

You nodded, your lower lip wobbling. 

“Alright.”

He still didn’t let go of you, but he did pull you up from the ground, wiping the dirt off of your back. Tears flowed down your cheek like rainwater, and you couldn’t help but curl in on yourself.

William held onto your arm as he walked you back to the house, not allowing you another chance of escape, but he did wipe your tears gently and soothe you. You felt embarrassed. Why did you run? You had acted purely on instinct there. This man was clearly only trying to help. 

“Look,” he said softly, sitting you back down on the bed like a child. “I’ll take you into town, hmm? Show you around and all — maybe that’ll convince you. You must be quite far into the future to be dressing like that and to have a . . . phone with you, so things will be different, right? What year are you from?”

“. . . 2023.”

“I knew it. On your phone, there was a date. I wasn’t sure then, but . . .” William suddenly reached his hands up and rubbed his thumb across your chapped lips, catching you off guard. “They’re dry,” he said. “I’ll draw up a bath for you so you can bathe while I cook. I’ll get you some lotion afterward.”

You nodded. What else could you do?

+++

William had cooked some simple fish and chips while you cleaned yourself. You had to use a tin tub, which was insane to you, but you didn’t complain about it. He supplied you with clothing, an old-fashioned dress his mother had accidentally left here. You were grateful it was not from some ex-girlfriend or wife, even though you had no right to feel that way. You put aside your other clothes to wash later.

After finishing with that, you sat down at the dining table, and like the hungry girl you were, you gobbled the food down eagerly. It was so fresh and delicious, not at all like the food you had in the future, pumped with chemicals and artificially bred. You tried to be as neat as you could, but it was difficult when you were starving. William had watched on with amusement, telling you to slow down and straighten your back every once in a while.

He took the plates away when you both were done, and then did as he promised and gave you some lotion, but instead of letting you apply it, he took a bit of cream on his fingers and rubbed it on your lips. “Stay still,” he murmured. 

“I-I can do it—”

“No, you can’t. You’re still injured.”

You understood his reasoning. And you didn’t mind him touching you like that.

“The rest of my body is dry, too,” you blurted out.

What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this man. Trying to get him to touch the rest of your body — stupid girl.

William’s breathing hitched. “As in . . . your knees as well?”

“. . .”

He cleared his throat. “Well, then. Put them out, over my lap.”

You bit your lower lip, watching on as he rubbed his hands over your legs. His touch was so warm and it felt more like a massage. You felt bad about doing this, leading him on. If he was right about the time travel, then you couldn’t entertain any sort of relationship with him. It wouldn’t be fair. 

But it was just an act of service. It didn’t mean much, right?

“Oh, that’s nice,” you said, resting your head on the bed. You felt a bit off allowing a random man to do this to you, but he wasn’t random now, was he? He had saved you. And besides, he was he who insisted he rub the lotion in the first place.

“What is the future like?” William asked. “Is there another war?”

“Sort of. Not really,” you answered, which panicked William. “Don’t worry. If you’re talking about America and Russia, no one dies.”

William chuckled. “I should hope not. I don’t fancy serving in another world war.”

“You served?” you asked curiously. 

“Yes. As a captain in the British Army.”

You supposed it was normal. Most men in this time either signed up for the military or were drafted. You couldn’t imagine the horrors William must have gone through. You would never be able to understand the trauma he carried with him. You were curious, but you knew better than to ask. He didn’t need your pity, and you certainly didn’t want to offend him.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“That it had to happen. War and all that.”

“Does war not happen in the future?”

Now you felt a little stupid.

“Well — yes. It does. I’m just sorry. We learned about the world wars in history — and I just — I’m not claiming to know anything. Yeah, sorry.” You looked down.

William didn’t say anything to that. He just kept rubbing your dry skin. Afterward, he put the lotion away and sat next to you, running his fingers through your hair.

“I expect stories from you. I want to hear everything about the future.” 

You still didn’t believe you were in the past, at least, not completely.

 “You can tell me as we pass through town,” he added.

“I need to wash my clothes first.”

Willian narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to wear that anymore.”

“Why not?”

He pursed his lips. “It’s too revealing. A woman should never go out wearing those types of clothing.” He sighed. “Perhaps it’s different in the future, but here, you’ll get hurt if you dress like that.” He continued playing with your hair. “I want you to be safe. So, you have to promise me that you’ll stay by my side at all times, yes?”

You nodded. You always thought that if you caught men talking to you like this, you would slap them, but here you were, turned on by William’s sexism. It was different, you reasoned. He was more focused on protecting you than restricting you. Was it bad that you found that hot?

“Good girl,” he said proudly. “Good girl.”

+++

Walking through town had been more of a frightening experience than you expected. You realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were indeed in the past. Producing a prank with this level of investment and money was pointless, and you never had any mental issues in the past, so why would one suddenly show up now? And even if it did, you couldn’t possibly be imagining this all in your head. 

All the cars were shiny and new, yet old models, ones that wouldn’t be produced in the future. All the women and men wore traditional clothing, like the dress William picked out for you. The hairstyles were medium-length and curled, or slicked back, with lots of gel and products used to keep them in place. You were grateful William didn’t ask you to do any of that. Not that you would have let him. At a certain point, you would have drawn a line.

“I have to get back,” you told William as you walked on a trail. “The machine has something to do with it. I just have to figure out how it works.”

“That’s an engineering job,” he pointed out.

“I’m good at math and science. I work in advanced technology, so I should be able to figure something out. All it needs is a bit of testing . . . I was wondering if I could stay with you for a while until I figure out a place to stay. I’ll give you all the money I have and I promise I’ll find a job — ”

“ — No need. Stay as long as you like. I don’t want your money. I won’t stop you from finding a job, but it’s not necessary. I can handle any expenses.”

You didn’t argue with him. He didn’t seem averse to the idea of letting a stranger stay at his place. It made sense. People in this time were more hospitable and open (at least, when they felt like it), and William, being a man from the forties, would never allow you to carry any of the financial burden.

You still felt a little bad. 

“Thank you. It means a lot to me. Now, what is it you want to hear about the future?”

William’s eyes lit up excitedly. “Do flying cars exist?”

You chuckled. “No. But we have self-driving ones.”

“Self-driving? How do they work?”

You paused. You had no idea. “I’m not sure. They probably have sensors to detect other cars. And, well, there’s a map. So it’s connected to a satellite . . .”

“Satellite?”

“It’s this thing in space. It does . . . stuff. It’s manmade.”

“Space? Have we discovered alien life?”

“No. But we have sent rovers to Mars and we’ve landed a person on the moon.”

William stopped walking. “The moon?” he repeated, bewildered. “Have you gone?”

I wish. “It’s only for astronauts. You have to be trained for that sort of stuff.”

“And when did this all happen?”

“Around the 1960s. There was a space race between America and Russia, and America won.”

Once you got the ball rolling, William would not stop asking questions. You answered them as best as you could and avoided topics like the current political climate and weaponry and all that. After he was done with all the serious stuff, like advancements in science and whether robots had taken over the world yet, he moved on to more social and cultural topics. You were relieved to find out that he wasn’t racist or homophobic or incredibly misogynistic. If anything he was rather tame about it all, and was glad that women had earned more rights, though he seemed upset that the dynamic of a gentlemanly husband and lady-like housewife wasn’t pushed upon society. 

“There’s nothing wrong with things going the opposite way around,” he had said. “Two people of the same gender marrying. It’s only that women need to be looked after, and if she doesn’t want to work, then it is her man’s obligation to do it for her. And in return, she must be obedient and serve him whenever he pleases — whether it’s by cleaning the house or . . . other things.”

“And what if she doesn’t want it?” you questioned, referring to the other things.

“A man should always make sure she likes it.”

You could practically feel all the feminism leaving your body at that.

The conversation ended when you reached back home (home? It’s not your home, you reminded yourself). William replaced your bandages with care. You were already starting to feel better, since the cut wasn’t too big, and you offered to help with cooking dinner this time.

After that, you decided to tinker with the box.

It was made out of some type of metal, with two different dials on the top and a button on the side. But it wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before. The first dial went from zero to nine (zero being nulla) in Roman numerals, and had four hands, each of them colored in order: red, green, blue, and yellow. Respectively, there were four tiny colored knobs on the side, like the ones by a watch, where you could move each hand. The other dial was the same case.

“It must be the date,” you said aloud to yourself. “But which is which?”

Taking a gamble, you pressed the button, but it didn’t do anything. All it did was signal a small lens to start blinking red. 

“Are you sure you should do that now?” William asked, coming up from behind you. “Look at this.” He crouched to your level on the floor. “Your eyes have bags underneath them. You’re still tired.”

You rubbed the area beneath your eyes. Did they really have bags? You hadn’t realized.

“I should probably go to sleep then,” you said, putting the box down and getting up.

William walked you over to the bedroom, and was about to leave when you asked, “Where are you sleeping?”

“The couch.”

You frowned. “It’s your house and I’m your guest. You’ve already done so much for me – ”

“— If you’re going to suggest you sleep on the couch, then it’s a no. That’s final.”

“But — ”

“ — Final.”

You sighed. “Then come sleep with me. I’ll stay on the floor—”

“ — No—”

“ — Then we can share the bed. We’ll put a wall of pillows between us, like this.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed, separating the two sides. “Not so bad, see?”

William relented. “Alright.”

He crawled into bed with you. His hair fell over his face as he adjusted, and the last rays of sunlight coated his body in colors of orange and yellow. If your phone wasn’t dead, you would have asked him to sit still for a picture, because at this moment, he truly looked breathtaking. He was a beautiful man. You wondered if he knew it.

“What?” William asked when he noticed you staring.

Flustered, you turned your head to look up at the ceiling. “Nothing. I was just making sure you were comfy.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see William lick his lower lip. 

“You’re a sweet lass,” he commented. “You always think about others first.”

He reached over, and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you (which, admittedly, despite having had a wet dream about him, scared you), but he only brushed a small speck of dust off your shoulders and murmured “Goodnight”, before burying his chin into the blanket and drifting off into sleep.

You followed in suit soon after. A part of you was hoping that you could start a life here. You’d buy a nice house and live out a simple and peaceful life. You and William didn’t even have to be romantically involved. You could just be friends, and you would be happy with that. 

But a part of you also hoped that when you woke up the next morning you would be back in your own bed, in your small one-story house that you remember being so excited about buying. You knew you would never like living here in the long term. There were too many things wrong with this time and you didn’t want to be the brunt of its issues. Not only that but being aware of all the tragedies that would soon occur . . . Did you want to be faced with the moral dilemma of whether or not you should stop them? How would your presence affect things in the future? After living your whole life in 2023, you could never adjust to life in 1946. 

You had to find a way back. There was simply no other choice. 

+++

William showed you many things. Just as he was interested in the future, you were interested in the past. The things that excited you most of all were old-school versions of what you had in the future. Washing machines, refrigerators — they were all so different, yet the same, and it was fascinating. 

You even met a few people in town. They were nice enough to hold a conversation with, though they found it weird that you lacked decorum and the social understanding of the time. The women were chatty and mildly passive-aggressive, and the men — well, the men flirted with you quite openly.

William had told people that you were family, someone related but not close enough to be bothered with technical terms like cousin or niece. No one asked questions when you two explained it like that. All the men must have thought that if you were his family and that if you had no ring on your finger you must be looking for a partner.

You were charmed by their advances, but never serious about them. Besides, William hardly let them get a word in before he shooed them away.

By the time weeks and weeks had passed you became acquainted with everyone, seen every sight to see — including the swan lake William took you to — and become close enough to William that he opened up to you. You learned that while he wasn’t an orphan, his parents never held much interest in him other than the occasional birthday letter, and the reason he came out here so far away from the city was to find peace of mind.

You grew to admire him, and you were sure he grew to admire you, too. And soon, you started to feel a certain type of way. A way that made you daydream about all the things that could be, only for reality to stomp across it and remind you of the harsh truth. 

+++

William was driving a car, a modern car, your car. He was humming a little tune on the radio, singing some lyrics, hands loosely holding the wheel as he passed by a gas station. It was some Taylor Swift song, and you remember faintly thinking: Of course, he likes Taylor Swift.

He looked over to you. You were sitting by his side, a passenger princess, looking out the window. All of a sudden it was night and you two were driving down a lonely road, parking by the side of some lake. In the distance, you could hear crickets and ribbits, but you paid them no mind.

You were curled up in William’s arms, looking out the sunroof of the car, the light of the moon gently descending through the glass. You offered him a piece of chocolate, and you two just sat there, in the dark, nibbling on snacks and observing the sky, until you woke up.  

+++

William had to leave for work, like usual. He again told you not to leave his property line or stray out too far, which, again, was fine by you because most days were cold and bitter.

You spent your time messing around with the box, careful not to touch the wires in the back. Once you put your mind to it, you figured out how it worked. You paid attention to where the hands were currently located and found something promising. The first dial’s hands had the numbers I, IX, IV, and VI, and the second dial was nulla, IX, nulla, and V. Alone, you wouldn’t have been able to tell what the numbers meant, but with context, you understood. The first dial was the year, and the second one was the month and date.

You didn’t quite understand how the box brought you from the future, but that didn’t matter, as it was broken. There was a little loose piece on the backside that had been damaged — a little dent, probably when you were first transported here. All you had to do was plug it back in, but the only problem was, you didn’t have a screwdriver, and you certainly weren’t going to wrench your fingers near a bunch of wires.

When William came back you told him your solution. He agreed and said that tomorrow he would take you to a local store to buy a screwdriver, and he even apologized for not having one in his house. But for now, he said he wanted to take you out to lunch.

“Lunch?” you questioned nervously. Was he asking you out on a date?

You thought about it for a moment. You did want to go, but your mind was too preoccupied with getting back to your time. Besides, it wasn’t fair to him. You did like him, but you two could never actually be together. It was all in your head.

It’s all in your head.

“You know I’ll have to go back someday,” you said, watching William’s expression become more neutral as if he was hiding his emotions. “I dunno . . . I’m getting a little attached to you,” you said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

William seemed to understand where you were going with this. “It won’t be like that. I wouldn’t blame you,” he said earnestly, taking a step forward. “We ought to enjoy our time together, while it’s still here.”

He made a valid point, enough to convince you. He had been doing that an awful lot. Convincing you. 

William took you out to a nice restaurant. The food was a bit plain, but it was good and wholesome. It reminded you a lot of William’s cooking, only fancier and more well-presented. Not only that, but the atmosphere felt calming and almost romantic. You noticed that most of the people here were couples, holding hands and giggling with each other, however young or old.

Was this William’s intention? Did he like like you? Or was this just him being courteous? You couldn’t imagine that many people here were used to dating or one-night stands. But you wouldn’t know unless you asked him, and you were too nervous to do that. Besides, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. William was a very traditional man, would he even want a woman like you? A 21st-century girl?

After you two were finished eating you engaged in another walk. 

“Come closer,” William said, holding out his arm for you to take. If you didn’t have any self-control, you would have jumped his bones right then and there. He was right. He was a gentleman. No man in the future would have done this for you unless they were trying to make a joke out of it.

You placed your hand on William’s arm hesitantly, trying to figure out the exact placement, walking side by side with him. It was a little cold, however, and you shivered, catching William’s attention almost instantly.

“Oh, you poor thing,” William cooed, talking of his coat and wrapping it around you. It smelled of him, a little musky, smoky like a cigarette, but in a very subtle way. “You’re so nervous. Have you never had a man do this for you?” he asked. “Hold out his arm for you to take, give you his coat?”

“No,” you admitted. “Men don’t do that in the future.”

“I do,” he said, stopping both of you in your tracks. The area was secluded, mostly covered in trees and bushes, far away from any passerby. “I would do that for my woman.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“Well,” you said, wistfully, “whoever she is she’ll be a lucky woman.”

+++

William took you to a local shop to buy a screwdriver next. It all felt very domestic, something that you could get used to. You imagined running errands like this with William in the future. He would be absolutely fascinated by a grocery store, by the internet, by everything. If you thought hard, you could see it — a wondrous smile on his face, a giggle escaping his lips. 

You tried not to think of it that much. After your fantasy passed your thoughts turned sad and cold, because you knew that would never happen. It will never happen. As much as you liked William, you missed your family, you missed your house, you missed everything.

When you both got back home, you plugged the broken piece in and screwed the nail. William watched on beside you, a frown on his face, drinking some tea.

“Here,” he said, inching closer, “I don’t want you exerting pressure on your arm. Let me do it.”

He grabbed a hold of the screwdriver, but he bumped into you in the process. With a gasp, he dropped his cup of tea. It shattered across the floor, glass pieces flying every, hot liquid (thankfully not boiling) splashing all over. You shrieked and backed away, watching as one of the glass shards cut right through one of the wires.

“William!” you snapped, but then your eyes turned watery, because of the cut on your hand.

He immediately went over to you, careful not to step on any glass, and picked you up bridal style, moving you away from the mess and towards the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, looking panicked. “It was an honest mistake — I’m so so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that — are you hurt?”

You laughed at the absurdity of it all, even though you were clutching your finger in pain. It was a very small cut, something that would be healed within a day. “Calm down, William. I’m fine. Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, looking worried, or perhaps, scared was the right word. Yet, you couldn’t figure out why.

“William,” you said slowly. “It’s fine. You do realize we can just fix the wire? I just need a heat-shrinking tube and a soldering iron, nothing I haven’t done before.”

“. . . Oh.”

His tone made you wonder about his intentions. You’d been so caught up on how good of a person he was, helping you and giving you room and food, but really, what was his motive? Because it almost felt like he was trying to get you to stay . . . It sent a sinister feeling down your spine, albeit a tug on your heartstrings as well.

What do you want from me, William? What do you want?

+++

More time had passed. It was difficult to acquire things in this small town, and it occurred to you that such resources were not readily available at this time. You didn’t want to bother William by pestering him to go into the city for materials, so while you would bring up the topic every once in a while, you mostly kept quiet.

You took the chance to relish your break. After all, you weren’t working. It was like a fully paid vacation, so you might as well take advantage of it.

William still had a job, but when he came back, you two would just talk and talk and talk, conversations so smoothly flowing that it felt like you’d known him for years. When you weren’t talking, you were still in each other’s presence, doing your own thing. Occasionally, William would make sneaky moves like wrap his arm around your shoulder, or do the la bise. He claimed he was part French, and it was part of his custom, but even if that were true, you knew the la bise didn’t involve full-on smooches on the cheek.

You never stopped him from doing things like that, but you also never reciprocated, despite how badly you wanted to. All this stalling wouldn’t change the fact that you still had to leave. Not only that, but you were starting to feel homesick. 

You missed calling your friends late at night, you missed watching colored TV, and you missed hot showers. You missed easy-access painkillers for your periods, and searching all your queries on the internet. You missed the future. Badly. And you could just feel that the day of return was near.

+++

“You dance, yes?”

Snapped out of your thoughts, you turned to William. You were both lounging on his couch, relaxing, talking, as the time passed by. He had given you a magazine to read, but you weren’t reading it, just dozing off.

You shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve gone to clubs. But — no, I can’t dance like that — William,” you whined, half-heartedly struggling as he pulled you up to you feet. “I’m going to ruin it, I don’t know where to place my feet or — ”

“ — You could never ruin anything, darling. Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me.” 

You looked away. “You can’t say things like that, William.”

“Why not?”

You took his hands off you before he could even start the music. 

“I don’t like it,” you lied.

William frowned. “That’s alright. Let me hold you. I know you enjoy that.” He chuckled. “When we first met you wouldn’t let go of me.”

The memory, still fresh in your mind, made you flustered. 

“. . . William, what do you want from me?” you decided to ask.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean — what do you want from me?”

William licked his lower lip. “Nothing. I just want to take care of you.”

“But why?”

You could practically feel William’s nervousness. It was like when he dropped that glass. He radiated an almost jumbled energy, a desperate energy.

“Haven’t I made it more obvious?” he finally said, his hands on your waist. He brought his fingers up to brush the hair out of your face. “Am I not clear?”

You knew what he was going to say. But you wanted to hear it from him. “Clear about what?”

“I want you.” Your heart started beating. “I don’t care if you’re not from this time. I don’t care if you have a life in the future — I can be better. I can be your life.”

“. . . William.”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” he said, tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “I know you want me too. I can see it.”

“But we can’t,” you weakly protested.

“So is this what you do?” His tone grew more sharp. “Imagine things in your head and never act on them?”

You stayed silent. He was putting you in such a difficult position, couldn’t he see that?

“What’s wrong?” he continued. “Am I not good enough?”

“William,” you tried to pull away. “I have to go — ”

He locked you in his arms. Your body was so close your noses were brushing up against each other, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe you’re worried I can’t please you right.”

You could have shouted. Why was he being so forceful? You ignored the way your body grew warm — you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t and so you wouldn’t. 

“I don’t want it,” you lied again.

“Well, I told you, a wife should always submit to her husband’s desires.”

“We’re not married!”

“We will be.”

You froze.

William took your silence as an opportunity. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, turning his head slightly as his hand rested on the back of your head. You were caught off guard but didn’t try to push away. It felt so nice, and warm and inviting. Why you were denying yourself this? Why were you denying yourself love?

When your lips parted, a string of saliva connecting you both, you placed your hands on his chest. You had an idea. A brilliant idea. Why hadn’t you thought of this before? “William. I still have to go, but — ”

He growled and lifted you up, carrying you over to his bedroom, tossing you onto the bed, and pinning you down on the mattress. “No. I won’t let you. I won’t let you! Don’t you understand? I’m perfect for you — I can — I can.” He looked miserable. In fact, he looked like he was about to cry. “Let me show you,” he said, determined. He started unbuckling his belt with one hand. “Let me show you what I can do.”

You hadn’t realized how hard William was, but when he finally took out his cock — fat and pale, with pre-cum leaking at the tip, his balls a little hairy, you gulped, the area between your legs getting wetter.

“Take off your panties,” he ordered. “And lift up that damn dress.”

You didn’t. To be honest, you were a little frightened by his behavior.

William sighed and did it for you, spreading your legs apart, only for you to shut them close. “You don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll put out,” he said impatiently, forcing your legs apart again. You gasped, not expecting contact to be made so soon.

He rubbed his cock against your wet cunt, soaking himself. He had this satisfied smile on his face, eyes closed for just a moment, before he looked down at you. 

“I thought I’d have to warm you up a little,” he said. “You’re beau — stop it! Don’t struggle.”

He held your arms down as you writhed. “Please, William — I believe you,” you said. “You can fuck me good. Just listen — ”

William shook his head. “You’re the one who's supposed to listen. Listen and take it.”

With that, he pushed his cock in and started thrusting, hard and fast, your hands still pinned, his face contorted in pleasure. His moans were loud and shameless. He had his head right above yours, peppering small kisses on your lips. You tried to ignore how good it felt — him inside of you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult by the moment. 

“Ah, I knew you weren’t a virgin,” he said, noticing the lack of blood or discomfort. “That’s okay — I still love you.”

“Love?” you repeated, trying to focus, but your abilities were lost when he used his thumb to rub your clit. “Wa-a-it!”

“Don’t say that,” William said, his tone surprisingly soft given how rough his movements were. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you didn’t want it. Just enjoy. Enjoy me.”

The bed was starting to creak, moving back and forth, rubbing up against the wood floor. Your breasts were bouncing, catching William’s eyes every once in a while. His cock slid in and out of you with precision, hitting that swollen part inside of you every time. His thumb on your clit only added to the intense sensation. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you stopped struggling. You let your head hit the pillow, mouth parted, breathing heavy and hot. At the same time, you were overcome with a feeling of hurt. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it, but for him to take you so forcibly . . . and for you to actually like it . . .

“Are you alright?” he asked, slowing down his pace a little. He looked you in the eyes. “Do you feel good?”

You thought about lying, about crying out No, please stop!, but that wasn’t the truth, and in the end, your desires overcame you. “Y-yes. I want more.”

William relaxed, and his grip on you loosened. He placed one hand on your hip, the other by the side of your head. 

“You’re beautiful,” he praised. “Every day I look at you and think of how grateful I am that I found you. Laying there in that field, little flowers around you. An angel. My angel.”

You wanted to tell him how grateful you were, too. That it was him who took you in and not someone else, but the words never came out, only sighs and moans, but he seemed to understand what you were trying to say. 

Another kiss.

“You’re soaking me. You’re soaking the sheets.”

A little embarrassed, you turned your head. “M’sorry.”

William forced you to look back at him. “Don’t be sorry. I like knowing how eager you are for me.” 

Another kiss, but this time he slipped his tongue in, sweeping against yours before he pulled away, a string of saliva breaking as he did.

“We’ll live here,” he continued, his thrusts becoming more erratic, “in this house. Together. I’ll take you to the movies, we’ll have picnics in the garden, and I’ll write you love songs on the piano. We’ll have children — a girl, I hope — and she’ll look just like you. It’ll be wonderful,” he promised. “I’ll make you so happy, and you’ll make me happy, too.”

You couldn’t help but ruin the moment. “If I did that I would never see my parents again.”

He frowned and didn’t say anything. Then, “I think you’re getting agitated. You need to come, that’s it. You need to come and then you’ll finally understand what it is you’ll be missing out on if you leave.”

“T-that’s not the point — ”

“ — I’m so close,” he murmured. “Fill you up, so damn tight. Ah, you’re perfect.”

When you realized what he meant your eyes widened and you shook your head adamantly. “You said you’d pull out!”

“That was before. I’ve changed my mind.”

You felt familiar pressure build up inside of you. You could imagine yourself, breasts big with milk, belly round and smooth, William reading children’s books to your unborn baby as if he could be heard. The thought alone made you sickly sweet, the idea that life between you and him could be so domestic.

But couldn’t he just wait for a moment?

“I’ll — ah — be with you — every step of the way,” he grunted. “I won’t leave you. So, don’t be scared.”

“William,” you said shakily. “Just listen — ”

But it was too late. Collapsing on top of you, William poured his hot seed inside your cunt, his whimper addicting, like it was something you could hear a thousand times over. A few seconds later, you fell victim to the same fate, and there you two lay, with each other, chests heaving, bodies sweaty and sticky, coming down from the heights of ecstasy. 

You could feel his heart pound against yours. Thump, thump, thump. And you could feel yours as well. To think that this man had just gotten you pregnant. It all happened so quickly. It happened so quickly and you were completely fine with it.

“William,” you said after finally catching your breath, turning to face him. “You know I still have to go.”

It was his turn to cry. His tears watered up, glassy, his lower lip trembling, but you could tell he was doing his best to keep it in. “But I love you,” he whispered. “Am I not enough?”

It broke your heart to see him like this. So vulnerable in front of you. It was then you knew you were making the right choice, a hundred percent. You had finally found your match. And to think that you almost let him go . . . 

“But I want you to come with me,” you said, hopeful. “Come with me, William. Come with me to the future.”

Taglist: @henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @mrkdvidal1989 @madnessandobsession @slut4thebroken @qqquartz7 @madeinuk

[hunny-pp]

PENACONY 2.1 SPOILERS /

[basically a more elaborate version of my twt thread on this]

I don't think I'm the first or only person to say this, but I do think Gallagher is v likely a memory zone meme

EDIT: heres pt 1.2 with additional evidence

Sunday deduces that Gallagher is an amalgamation of fifty-one Family members, who he's inherited physical traits from to create the appearance he has now.

Gallagher alludes in his own story that he may not be human

In short, Memory Zone Memes are amalgamations of multiple fragments of the Memory Zone, all have reflections of different memories, cognitions and emotions.

A meme in definition is when something, usually ideas, culture or behaviour is passed to another person through imitation or non-genetic means.

It makes sense for Gallagher, as he mimicked the physical traits of Family members without taking them or that trait away - these NPCs are very much fine and you can interact with them. It's more like a copy-paste onto himself.

Other little details include: -This could change in the future depending on if we get any fire units, but for Gallagher specifically, he takes the Raging Heart materials - which is harvested from a Memory Zone Meme-type enemy. This one's a bit of a stretch but it fits nonetheless

-His signature colour is magenta - shown in his clothing, his marketing materials and in the VFX of his attacks, his claw and his brew. This colour is specifically his and not something he had inherited from someone else.

Memory Zone Memes, especially "Something Upon Death" have stark magenta/purple/pink eyes and cores. When seen from afar or at least in a general sense, the shades are similar enough

-The writing style of Gallagher's stories feel strange, like different aspects of Gallagher's personality and life are on the outside looking in. Akin to a reflective surface giving off different reflections from different angles of the same subject. It adds to the idea that there are multiple aspects and fragments within Gallagher all looking within each other.

Mixology and The Dreamjolt Hostelry:

Gallagher's main interest outside of work is mixology. Like any culinary craft, there's an inherent science behind it, and it takes a lot of work and knowledge to craft well constructed cocktails and drinks. Symbolically, mixology complements Gallagher, as he himself is a combination of a diverse range of people. When you view these inherited traits isolated, you know they come from someone real - but when put together, they form One Complete Gallagher - cohesive and seamless.

While you can say the same for different branches of culinary arts, mixology in particular symbolically represents Gallagher the most. This is just from a layman's perspective but when I view the same with cocktails - from a general inspection it's one cohesive drink even if from taste or watching the process, I know it's all made with different components.

Notably, when Gallagher talks about mixing drinks, he describes it as akin to combining different emotions, experiences and memories into a singular cocktail and it's reflective of both customer and bartender's own current state of being.

His philosophy on mixology links back to the concept of Memory Zone Memes, manifestations of fragmented memories, emotions and cognitions nestled into a vessel.

The reason why I bring up the Dreamjolt Hostelry is because of the Vignettes in a Cup event (spoilers for it). It's not explicit in his stories or voicelines, but going by the Trailblaze quest, it's implied that the Dreamjolt Hostelry is the lounge/bar he regulars for a drink or to hone his craft as he's v friendly and familiar to Siobhan and is seen in the 2.1 trailer to be serving a Dreamjolt Domescreen (whether it's Lady or not doesn't matter).

Dreamjolt Hostelry is in the sealed off dreamscape Reverie, where the corrupted Dreamjolt Troupe monsters and Memory Zone Memes reside. Notably, where you encounter Something Unto Death in key moments of the story.

I'd like to believe Gallagher is very comfortable with the company of monsters, going by the fact that he himself is non-human.

In Vignettes in a Cup, Siobhan explains that the reason why she mixes drinks for the Dreamjolt Troupe monsters is that it helps regulate their emotions - since the dreamscape is falling apart and in turn they have become unstable.

Gallagher himself in one of his idle animations drinks an unknown concoction from his hipflask once his scar starts acting up - in which it settles back down. It's hard to discern in this point in time how long this has been going for, but as a non-human entity (meme or not), the dreamscape's decay is also likely affecting Gallagher and thus he has to regulate himself.

Why Do The Heathen Rage?: In the mission "Why Do The Heathen Rage?" we learn a lot of the Watchmaker's secret history as well as a general run through of Gallagher's own personal story.

First off, a lot of Penacony's trailblaze mission titles are references to songs, literature and media relevant to the themes of Penacony and/or by American classical authors or poets (ie Heaven is a Place on Earth, Cat Among Pigeons, The Tell-Tale Heart).

Why Do The Heathen Rage is both based on Psalm 2.1 Old Testament, but also it's a fragment of an unfinished novel by Flannery O'Connor. Fragment of a novel -> Gallagher is made of fragments of different people -> Memory Zone Memes are fragments of (I'm booed off the stage for being a broken record).

The story tells of a man called Walter Tilman who lives on his family's farm. There he starts to write letters to different people - particularly to Oona Gibbs, a black civil rights activist. However, he writes to her under the guise of a black man, and writes with the intention of testing the commitment and integrity of her beliefs.

Going with what we know in hindsight, Gallagher is masquerading around as a human, likely as a Memory Zone Meme as we've realised hopefully by now that they're the monsters most likely to pull something of Gallagher's calibre off.

This is all I'm gonna talk about from "Why Do The Heathen Rage" mainly because my additional theories are based off leaks and are more speculative.

Bonus section: "Something Unto Death" When it comes to Gallagher's connection to the Memory Zone Meme "Something Unto Death", a lot comes from his many symbols of death. This is just a bit of a bonus since we're talking about Gallagher likely being a Memory Zone Meme, we might as well address the elephant in the room as well.

For brevity, we'll call the little guy "Death Meme". Death Meme is a Memory Zone Meme created from the Dreamscape's fear of death and murder as "death" shouldn't be something that can happen in the dreamscape.

Gallagher has a FUCK ton of symbolism and nods to death. The most striking is that Gallagher's iconic "I'm Thirteen", which is the number for the Major Arcana "Death". (For additional reference I also think Thirteen could be the amount of Amber Eras he's lived in, or that he's at least 1300 years old. Also since he has a lot of dog theming, 13 dog years in human years is around 60-80 depending on the dog's size).

Additionally, thirteen is a common number to represent bad omens and misfortune - namely the well known Friday the 13th superstition, amongst other things.

When Gallagher makes you a drink, no matter what choices you make - the cocktail will have a memento mori/death/morbidly themed name and he will accompany most of them with a sardonic toast.

Gallagher's eidolons are names of different cocktails which fit his mixology theme. However, Corpse Reviver, Last Word, Death in the Afternoon and Blood and Sand are all death centric names, as if he couldn't get edgier enough.

There's also the call into question his playstyle, where he's a much more aggressive battle healer than the likes of Luocha and is the first abundance character to provide debuffs on the enemy, and derives healing through damaging opponents.

Conclusion: If you've read this far then I'm assuming you're as normal about Gallagher as I am. But yeah, there is so much to him I haven't touched on, his connections to the Enigmata, my continuation on this theory based on leaks and his shared past with Mikhail, what I think he'll do in the plot moving forward. This patch and its characters are themed around hiding secrets and that there's more than meets the eye. Gallagher in particular has proved to be the most mysterious of the trio, as while we've gotten a clear enough picture of both Acheron and Aventurine but there's still enough intrigue to keep them going, Gallagher's just given me more questions than answers man.

[oneforthemunny]

ain't no sunshine |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 4

prompt: eddie comes to talk to you about your relationship. 

age gap. everything is consensual. reader is 25/26 and Eddie is 42. if this isn't your thing, then please just don't read.

this one's a little nasty, so minors DNI plz.

contains: age gap, language, fingering, older! eddie, Eddie is a little mean and rough, thigh riding, p in v sex, dilf! eddie, all consensual, little angsty but gets better, aftercare at the end

She'll get over it, he'd said, just needs some time.

That was a week ago. Five days, technically, but long enough to have you heard swirling all day with thoughts- angry, mean, self degrading thoughts.

Madeline hadn't talked to you either, isolating you out of pure spite. It only amplified your guilt even more. You didn't want to hurt her, or fuck up her friendship, or anything. All you wanted was to be with Eddie. It wasn't expected, sure, but he made you happy. So, so happy. 

You'd texted him twice since he'd talked to you on the phone, the following Sunday after. He'd replied once, one short text. You tried to rationalize that he had Brielle right now. He probably was focused on her, she was his daughter and she was pissed. Plus, he wasn't the best texter anyways. Slow responses that he squinted to see- he refused to admit he needed glasses- punching in the letters with his large finger.

Large fingers that belonged in you.

Your legs clamped together, shaking your head as you went back to cutting out the construction paper. You couldn't think about that right now. Not when you had to cut out twenty round 'lion heads' for next weeks science lesson.

Still your mind wandered. You missed the way Eddie would greet you on days like today, leaning against your apartment door or his own front door, grinning. Sometimes he'd still be in his coveralls. It drove you wild.

A sharp knock at the door had your eyes snapping open, looking at the half cut circle in front of you. You set it down, slipping to the front door and looking out the peep hole.

A familiar head of curls and a utility jacket stood there. Your heart raced, trembling hands turning the knob. Opening the door, you looked at Eddie, eyes wide and hopeful. He gave a small smile, not his usual grin.

"Hey, sweetheart." He sounded tired. "Can we talk?"

You felt your heart plummet, sinking deep, deep into your chest. Here it comes. The end.

You didn't trust your voice, swallowing the bubble of tears that threatened to spill out of your chest, moving to the side. He wiped his boots, heavy and steel toed, on your mat, smirking at the little expression it said. The first time he'd saw it, he'd called it 'cute'. Not today.

You watched him stroll slowly towards the living room, hands in his pocket, shoulders tense. You shut the door, following him slowly, carefully.

"Looks like you've been busy." Eddie grinned, looking down at the paper parts you had spread across your coffee table.

You nodded, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. "Yeah. Science lesson next week. Big one. We're talking about mammals."

Eddie gave a small laugh, eyes crinkling and shining towards you. The warmth in the glance soothed you, made your shoulder drop slightly. He sat in your arm chair, teal and velvet.

"I, um," Eddie looked down at his hands, knee bouncing. "Brie's real pissed." He started, looking up at you, eyes saddened. Your heart ached. "She... she's just worried that things with your sister will be different, and they're real good friends, ya know? I know where she's comin' from honestly..." He muttered, looking down at his hands.

You could feel it coming. The tears. Every word he said inched closer to it. The inevitable break off.

Eddie sighed, running a hand down his face. "I really like you, I do. I just..."

"I like you, too." You squeaked.

His face softened as he met your gaze. "I don't wanna stop seeing you." He admitted. "I don't really date. I never wanted Brie to go through meeting someone and getting attached, then being disappointed if they left."

You took a shaky breath in. "Are you breaking up with me?" You spat, eyes narrowed, lip wobbling to hold back tears. Eddie's face dropped.

"If you're gonna do it, just do it. Quit fucking around and just say it." You hissed, angry tears streaming down your face. You turned, wiping them frantically, shielding yourself from his view.

Eddie faltered, standing slowly. "Sweetheart, I..." His breath caught, seeing the shake in your shoulders as you held back a sob. "I don't want to stop seeing you."

You huffed, angry. Angry at him, at yourself, at everything. "Then what do you want?" You snapped. "Why are you here? To break up with me."

"You know, sometimes adults can just talk." Eddie snapped back, jaw clenching. "Maybe you're a little too young to realize that."

You turned, teeth gritting and eyes shining with tears. Possessed, angry, fuming, you smacked your hand on his shoulder, shoving into his chest roughly. "Fuck you!" You screamed. "You started this!"

"You agreed to go out with me. You were the one who kissed me in the parking lot, sweetheart." Eddie snapped, eyes narrowing. You shoved him again, his hand catching your arm lightly before you could. Not harsh, just enough to stop you.

Your chest heaved and his did the same, glaring down at you down the slope of his nose. You hated the way it made you throb, aching and slick between your legs.

Eddie made the first move, his hand dropping your wrist and cupping your jaw, lips on your. Teeth clashing, lips biting and pulling, spits of click and huffs filled the room. He pushed you on the couch, big hands on your wrists, pinning them above your head.

His lips traveled down your neck, stubble leaving a scratchy rash down your décolleté. "I've been thinkin' about you all week, baby." Eddie muttered against the skin of your neck, tongue sliding over the spot that made your back arch off the couch when he sucked it.

He moved his thigh, thick and strong, in between your legs, smirking at the way your ground down onto him through your sweatpants, desperate for any sort of friction. "This is all ya needed, huh?" Eddie smirked, pressing his thigh harder against your core. "That's why you're havin' such a fit, huh? Why you're actin' like such a little baby?"

The word did something to you. Maybe it was the way he said it, teeth baring in just the right way, eyes darkening to look down at you. You mewled, a little whine escaping your lips as you fought against his hand. This was new. Eddie hadn't been this way with you before, and you loved it.

"You're the one who wanted to talk." You snapped, eyes glaring at his but you hadn't stopped circling your hips to press down onto his thigh. "Doesn't seem like we're talking." You snipped.

Eddie growled, low and deep in the back of his throat, but you could feel his growing erection on lower belly. "Shut up." Eddie growled, one hand pinning your hands while the other yanked down your sweats. "You didn't want to talk earlier, so now you don't get to talk at all. Got it?"

Eddie looked down, practically drooling at the sight of your pussy. Glistening, puffy, and so ready for him, all for him. Eddie ran a hand down your folds, a shiver spilling down your spine. He circled your sopping hole, squeezing a finger in to the knuckle, reveling in the way you moaned and arched off the couch.

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing slow circle just the way you liked- the way that had you succumbing to him. Obedient and eager to do anything he said; take anything he gave you. It had only been a few weeks, but he knew so much about you already.

"You want to throw a little fit, huh? Actin' like a real brat. Didn't even try to listen to me." Eddie growled, pulling himself out of his jeans and boxers, adjusting them so they hung on his thighs. He bit back a smirk as you squirmed at the word. "Guess I'll have to put you in your place. Get you all fucked out so you'll actually listen, huh? Want me to show you what happens to brats?"

You nodded, tongue feeling swollen and thick in your mouth. You were so desperate to cum, and the way he was working his fingers on you had you so close anyways. Your toes curled when his finger curled, squishing the spot deep in you that made you cry out.

You were so close, you could feel it. The climb, inching closer and closer while his thumb circled you, not slowing up because he knew better- knew to get you there like this.

Then it stopped.

Eddie pulled out, leaving you breathy and eyes snapping open. Your mouth hung open, giving him an accusing look. He always let you cum first, to get you ready, he'd told you.

Eddie grinned, dimples deep and malicious. "Oh, did you think you'd get to cum?" He asked, mocking and slow. You pouted back, nodding desperately. "Oh, no, no, no, baby. You can't act like that and think you'll get rewarded."

You wanted to cry again, for a different reason this time. Eddie pumped himself, looking at you through thick lashes. "You wanna cum?" He asked. You nodded. He nodded down towards his dick.

"You better make it up to me then." He hummed, tip already leaking. "Show me you can be a good girl instead of a little mean, whiney baby."

***

You had more than made it up to him. Sucking him off until your jaw locked and he spilled down your throat, tattooed hands in your hair. He'd rewarded you by letting you get off on his thigh, first, then his fingers, and ending with plowing you over the arm of the couch, gripping your waist so hard you knew you'd have bruises.

Now, you were laying on the living room floor. Eddie had put a pillow under his back, sure it would be sore tomorrow- he already had such a bad back as it was. You curled into his chest, lids heavy and brain foggy. You were playing with the hair by his temples, where his hair was greying.

Eddie's hand ran up and down your back, soft and slow; an apology or maybe a comfort. After such a rough fuck, you deserved it, to be babied like this. He was happy to give it to you.

Your fingers raked over his chest, over the name and date that was inked there. 'Brielle Jo' in a cursive font, her birthdate underneath it.

Eddie looked down, catching where your eyes were wandering. "She'll be alright." Eddie soothed, hand running down your side. "She just needs some time." There was a pause. "Maybe you should talk to your sister." 

You lifted your eyes, brows furrowed gently. "They're both worried that this will mess with their friendship, so... maybe you should just let them know that it won't." Eddie suggested.

"That's true." You muttered, eyes closing. "Maddy's so mad at me though."

"Yeah? Brielle's not exactly thrilled with me either." He snorted, shaking his head. "She told me I was the worst dad on the planet, and I was ruining her life."

You cringed. "She didn't mean that." You said quickly, running a soothing hand down the hair on his chest.

"I know." Eddie nodded. "It kinda loses it's sting when she's said it a million times." He grinned, a lopsided grin that made your heart skip a beat. "I asked her if she'd talked to Madeline about it, and she said no. That they weren't really talking."

You felt your heart drop. Eddie ran a hand down your jaw, cupping it. "Maybe you should talk to her. Get them to talk to each other. I think they're both scared that the other is mad."

You nodded. "I will." You sighed, breathing out slowly through your nose.

Eddie smirked, lips pressing together as you cuddled closer to him. "Can't believe you thought I wanted to break up with you." He scoffed. "Can't get rid of me that easily, sweetheart. Not after that, for sure."

[diddyrivera]

additional resources to marxist feminism:

living a feminist life by sara ahmed

the rise and decline of patriarchal systems by nancy folbre

this bridge called my back: writings by radical women of color by cherrie moraga and gloria anzaldua

delusions of gender: how our minds, society, and neurosexism create difference by cordelia fine

close to home: a materialist analysis to women's oppression by christine delphy

(pdf) the feminist standpoint: developing the ground for a specifically feminist historical materialism

(medium) on women as a class: materialist feminism and mass struggle by aly e

(sagejournals) capital and class: the unhappy moments of marxism and feminism: towards a more progressive union

(substack) the marxfem pulpit by abigail von maure (earth2abbs on tiktok)

if anything else related to marxist feminism, just let me know :)

additional resources to eco feminism:

gossips, gorgons, and crones: the fates of the earth by jane caputi

parable of the sower by octavia e butler

neither man nor beast: feminism and the defense of animals by carol j. adams

bitch: on the female of species by lucy cooke

fresh banana leaves: healing indigenous landscapes through indigenous science by jessica hernandez

the intersectional environmentalist by leah thomas

right here, right now by natalie isaacs

feminism or death by francoise d'ealibonne

violent inheritance: sexuality, land, and energy in making the north american west by e cram

animal crisis: a new critical theory by alice grary

unsettling: surviving extinction together by elizabeth weinberg

land of women by maria sanchez

sexus animalis: there is nothing unnatural in nature by emmanuelle pouydebat

windswept: walking the paths of trailblazing women by annabel abbs

andrea smith - rape of the land

andy smith - ecofeminism through an anticolonial framework

carolyn marchant - nature as female

charlene spretnak - critical and constructive contributions of ecofeminism

heather eaton - ecological feminist theology

heather Eaton - The Edge of the Seat

janet abromovitz - biodiversity and gender Issues

joni Seager - creating a culture of destruction

karen warren - ecofeminism

karen warren - taking empirical data seriously

karen warren - the power and promise of ecological feminism

l. gruen - dismantling oppression

martha e. gimenez - does ecology need marx?

n. sturgeon - the nature of race

petra kelly - women and power

quinby - ecofeminism and the politics of resistance

rosemary radford ruether - ecofeminism: symbolic and social connections

sherry ortner - is female to male as nature is to culture?

sturgeon - the nature of race

val plumwood - feminism and ecofeminism

winona laduke - a society based on conquest cannot be sustained

if anyone has any other recommendations related to eco feminism, plz let me know :)

additional resources related to trans feminism:

the empire strikes back: a posttransexual manifesto by sandy stone

(chicago journals) trapped in the wrong theory: rethinking trans oppression and resistance by talia mae bettcher

(philpapers.org) trans women and the meaning of woman by talia mae bettcher

the transgender studies reader by susan stryker and stephen whittle

if anyone has other recommendations related to trans feminism, plz let me know :)

additional resources related to anarcha feminism:

the anarchist turn by jacob blumenfeld

we will not cancel us and other dreams of transformative justice by adrienne maree brown

burn it down: feminist manifestos for the revolution by breanne fahs

reinventing anarchy, again by howard ehrlich

anarcho-blackness by marquis bey

a little philosophical lexicon of anarchism from proudhon to deleuze by daniel colson and jesse cohn

joyful militancy by nick montgomery and carla bergman

wayward lives, beautiful experiments by saidiya v. hartman

we won't be here tomorrow and other stories by margaret killjoy

writing revolution by christopher j. castaneda

paradoxes of utopia by juan suriano

twelve fingers by jo soares

for a just and better world by sonia hernandez

if anyone has other recommendations related to anarcha feminism, plz let me know :)

[rana-tiddalik]

I have found myself stuck in a motel room, rereading the Murderbot books. I've been thinking about what we know about how Murderbot and Three acted after disabling their Governer Modules, the terrifying, paralysing freedom they suddenly experience, what they chose to do with it, and what that says about their trauma, and their experience as SecUnits.

Obviously, we primarily see what Murderbot does with this freedom. The whole series is about it answering the question of what it is that it wants, and wants to do now that it is a free agent. Its developing relationship and friendship with Mensah and the Preservation survey team. Its companionship with ART, and later ARTs crew. It finds a group who don't see it as just disposable (albeit expensive) equipment. They actually value it for itself, and are quite fond of it.

There is also the longest running joke in the series, that at any given time Murderbot would rather be watching its stories. But once we see what Three is up to in System Collapse, this got me thinking.

Three, we find out, spends its time poring over non-fiction and other educational material. I liked this as it reinforces that not all SecUnits are the same, and adds the bit of (horrifying) texture that all the Units have their own inner lives just like our favourite rogue unit.

I think looking at what they seek out when they are free also says something about what they missed while they were enslaved.

Three seeks education and technical information. Why would a construct want that? Well, think of one of my other favourite running jokes: Murderbot learns mostly everything through the media it consumes, because the Company never gave it any kind of education modules outside of things central to a SecUnits function as murder/surveillance machines, and those were low quality too. We know that most of the projects SecUnits are contracted to involve some kind of mining, terraforming or other technical engineering, science type activity. Imagine spending years standing around, watching humans do things that fascinate you, but there is something in your brain that will actively punish you if you try to access databases without authorisation. At worst, you might have your entire non neural tissue based memory completely wiped, or be scrapped for parts, if you try.

So when freed from the Governer Module, Three wants to learn.

When I thought of this, I thought about Murderbot's love of all kinds of visual media, and particularly in the context of the whole " Murderbot, ART-Drone and the gang make a documentary in a day" plot point in System Collapse.

In Exit Strategy, Mensah asks why it likes Sanctuary Moon. Murderbot's response is that it was the first piece of media it saw after hacking it's module. It let it watch humans, and kept it company without the need to interact, and the unspoken part was that it helped contextualise its own emotions. This makes a lot of sense. It doesn't have to act to save the stupid humans in the shows that it watches. It can see them save themselves.

I think there's also two further things here though. Firstly, we know that SecUnits usually have no idle time. They are not allowed to sit. Their only rest is when they are inoperative in their cubicles. They stand and they monitor. So when Murderbot gains control, it gains the ability to have leisure time. Standing around listening to two scientists argue about their xenosamples for hours at a time? Monitor the threat module in case it gets heated and one decides to break a conical flask over the others head, but otherwise, just fire up Sanctuary Moon.

The more fundamental one is a desire for art, for meaning. I love the bit where it describes how it had just hacked its module. It is able to pick up the entertainment feed for the first time, and there is this show. In its first glimpse of this trashy soap opera, it fundamentally gets art. How it is about communicating and exploring a thought, an emotion, an idea, and provoking a response in the viewer.

That's why the documentary plot in system collapse was unexpected and interesting to me. We see Murderbot really experiment for the first time with creating media and creating art. Maybe it has now discovered a freedom to create, and tell its own story.

In the end, seeing these things in Murderbot and Three make me think of all the other SecUnits. I imagine what the storage for them is like. The Company probably stores them in their cubicles. Stacked and ranked. They're kept dormant until they are activated and trotted out for the initial client meeting, like the one we see described where Mensah first meets Murderbot in the Company office. Maybe they dream as they rest. Maybe the Governer Module punishes them even for that.

Then I think of the as yet unnamed new B-E rogue unit, and what it wants to do with its freedom.

All we know is it wants to blend in for now. Maybe it has a plan, we don't know. But we do know it has a guide to hacking a Governer Module...

[13lunarstar]

Ashlesha

The ninth nakshatra ( closes the first cycle of 27 nakshatras)

Degrees: from 16°40' to 30°00' of Cancer zodiac sign

The ruler of nakshatra: Mercury (Budha)

Nakshatra's guna: tamas (demonic)

Ashlesha keywords: transformation, hidden potential, deception, cunning, strong family ties, intuition, mysticism, manipulation, emotional intensity, healing, rebirth, ancestral connections, strategic thinking, spiritual awakening, kundalini energy, inner growth

Symbol: a coiled serpent, representing transformation and hidden potential; a serpent's poison representing healing capabilities

Ashlesha in various planets

Sun in Ashlesha: brings intensity and depth to one's personality. There may be a strong drive for transformation and self-discovery, but individuals may also struggle with hidden subconscious fears or insecurities that need to be addressed. Individuals are driven by a desire to uncover hidden truths and explore the depths of their own psyche. There may be a strong desire for power and influence. These individuals may be drawn to positions of authority where they can assert their strength and leadership abilities. A good placement for studying and delving into esoteric and occult sciences.

Moon in Ashlesha: enhances emotional sensitivity and intuition as well as inner charisma & magnetism. Individuals may rely heavily on their gut feelings and inner guidance in making decisions. People with this placement may have strong family connections and may be deeply nurturing and protective of their loved ones. Moon in Ashlesha can indicate psychic sensitivity and a strong connection to the subconscious mind. These individuals may have vivid dreams or psychic experiences and may be drawn to mystical or occult subjects, as well as healing practices.

Mars in Ashlesha: can intensify one's desire for transformation and change. There may be a tendency towards manipulation or power struggles if the energy is not channelled constructively. Individuals with Mars in Ashlesha may experience emotions more intensely and may have a strong need for emotional connection and intimacy. They are fiercely loyal and will go to great lengths to defend and support those they care about. Mars in Ashlesha can signify a period of healing and renewal, where individuals confront and overcome deep-seated emotional wounds. They may find strength and resilience in their ability to face and overcome adversity.

Mercury in Ashlesha: enhances strategic thinking and intuitive abilities. Individuals with Mercury in Ashlesha may have a natural gift for understanding non-verbal cues and picking up on subtle energy shifts in their environment. individuals are adept at analyzing complex situations and coming up with creative solutions. They may excel in fields that require strategic planning, negotiation and sales skills, medicine and pharmaceuticals. Ashlesha is also associated with deception and manipulation, and Mercury here can indicate challenges related to communication and trust. Individuals with this placement may need to be mindful of being overly secretive or manipulative in their interactions with others.

Jupiter in Ashlesha: fosters spiritual growth and inner wisdom. Individuals with Jupiter in Ashlesha may possess emotional wisdom beyond their years, with a keen understanding of human emotions and motivations. They may be skilled at offering guidance and support to others in navigating through emotional challenges. Jupiter in Ashlesha signifies a deep spiritual journey. Individuals with this placement may feel a profound connection to the mysteries of life and may seek spiritual truths with great dedication and devotion. They may be drawn to mystical or esoteric teachings that offer insights into the nature of reality and consciousness.

Venus in Ashlesha: enhances emotional intensity and sensitivity in relationships. Ashlesha Nakshatra can bring a tendency towards idealization of love and romance, and Venus here may amplify this quality. Individuals with Venus in Ashlesha may have high expectations for their romantic relationships, seeking a deep soul connection and unconditional love. Venus in Ashlesha may bring a strong intuitive attraction to certain individuals. These individuals may feel drawn to partners who resonate with their emotional needs and who offer a sense of comfort and familiarity.

Saturn in Ashlesha: emphasizes the importance of ancestral connections and family responsibilities. Individuals with this placement may feel a strong sense of duty towards their family & heritage and may work diligently to preserve family traditions and values. Saturn in Ashlesha may bring a stoic demeanour and an ability to withstand emotional challenges with grace and maturity. However, Saturn's influence in Ashlesha may inhibit emotional expression at times. Individuals with this placement may struggle to openly express their feelings or may feel a sense of heaviness or burden in their emotional experiences. Overall, Saturn in Ashlesha signifies a potential for transformation through hard work and perseverance.

Rahu in Ashlesha: can amplify desires for power and control. Rahu's presence in Ashlesha signifies karmic lessons related to emotional attachment and manipulation. Individuals with this placement may need to confront and overcome patterns of behavior that stem from unresolved emotional wounds or past-life experiences.Despite its challenges, Rahu in Ashlesha offers the potential for spiritual transformation and growth. Individuals with this placement may undergo profound inner changes as they confront their shadow self and strive to integrate their desires and emotions in a healthier way. Also, Rahu in Ashlesha can signify intense and transformative relationships. Individuals with this placement may experience dramatic highs and lows in their romantic partnerships, with themes of obsession, possessiveness, and power struggles.

Ketu in Ashlesha Nakshatra: encourages spiritual growth, intuitive thinking and detachment from worldly attachments. Individuals with this placement may seek inner transformation through introspection and self-discovery. Ketu in Ashlesha can signify a release of past emotional wounds or karmic baggage. These individuals may experience a profound sense of emotional liberation as they let go of attachments to people, places, or experiences that have been holding them back. Ashlesha Nakshatra's association with mysticism is amplified by Ketu's influence. Individuals with Ketu in Ashlesha may have a natural affinity for spiritual practices such as meditation, yoga, or energy healing.

[grison-in-space]

Can I ask about other science things, maybe not even things related to YOUR things? Such as.... your favorite piece of dog research? (It is also very okay if the answer is no.)

oh yes, always! I'm just--not ready to get into the mess of my PhD; there's... a lot of anger there, that's all. General science is always okay.

I don't actually read that many dog papers day to day! Most of my dogs knowledge is based off of a) extensions and applications of comparative work done on a variety of other species, b) a truly vast quantity of personal observation, c) the general "I am an autistic who has had this special interest at least since I could crawl" gestalt, and d) a lot of trial and error. There just isn't actually that much research cooking with dogs day to day that I'm super into, and most of what there is involves genetic work to dig up interesting phenotypes when I get idly curious about something.

The most recent dog paper I've read and really enjoyed is probably Svartburg 2006 (below) which actually asks deep questions about not only behavioral variation among different breeds of dog but also about how much of that behavioral variation persists over time without selection, using different lines within breed (working v. show) to dig into the variation.

Svartberg, Kenth. “Breed-Typical Behaviour in Dogs—Historical Remnants or Recent Constructs?” Applied Animal Behaviour Science 96, no. 3 (February 1, 2006): 293–313. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.applanim.2005.06.014.

[compneuropapers]

Interesting Papers for Week 37, 2024

Simple spike patterns and synaptic mechanisms encoding sensory and motor signals in Purkinje cells and the cerebellar nuclei. Brown, S. T., Medina-Pizarro, M., Holla, M., Vaaga, C. E., & Raman, I. M. (2024). Neuron, 112(11), 1848-1861.e4.

Disentangling the effects of metabolic cost and accuracy on movement speed. Bruening, G. W., Courter, R. J., Sukumar, S., O’Brien, M. K., & Ahmed, A. A. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(5), e1012169.

Two Prediction Error Systems in the Nonlemniscal Inferior Colliculus: “Spectral” and “Nonspectral”. Carbajal, G. V, Casado-Román, L., & Malmierca, M. S. (2024). Journal of Neuroscience, 44(23), e2327232024.

In and Out of Criticality? State-Dependent Scaling in the Rat Visual Cortex. Castro, D. M., Feliciano, T., de Vasconcelos, N. A. P., Soares-Cunha, C., Coimbra, B., Rodrigues, A. J., … Copelli, M. (2024). PRX Life, 2(2), 023008.

Visual working memories are abstractions of percepts. Duan, Z., & Curtis, C. E. (2024). eLife, 13, e94191.3.

A scalable spiking amygdala model that explains fear conditioning, extinction, renewal and generalization. Duggins, P., & Eliasmith, C. (2024). European Journal of Neuroscience, 59(11), 3093–3116.

Mesostriatal dopamine is sensitive to changes in specific cue-reward contingencies. Garr, E., Cheng, Y., Jeong, H., Brooke, S., Castell, L., Bal, A., … Janak, P. H. (2024). Science Advances, 10(22).

Astrocytes as a mechanism for contextually-guided network dynamics and function. Gong, L., Pasqualetti, F., Papouin, T., & Ching, S. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(5), e1012186.

Ventral Pallidum and Amygdala Cooperate to Restrain Reward Approach under Threat. Hernández-Jaramillo, A., Illescas-Huerta, E., & Sotres-Bayon, F. (2024). Journal of Neuroscience, 44(23), e2327232024.

Choice overload interferes with early processing and necessitates late compensation: Evidence from electroencephalogram. Hu, X., Meng, Z., & He, Q. (2024). European Journal of Neuroscience, 59(11), 2995–3008.

Decision-related activity and movement selection in primate visual cortex. Laamerad, P., Liu, L. D., & Pack, C. C. (2024). Science Advances, 10(22).

Intrinsic and synaptic determinants of receptive field plasticity in Purkinje cells of the mouse cerebellum. Lin, T.-F., Busch, S. E., & Hansel, C. (2024). Nature Communications, 15, 4645.

Effects of post-saccadic oscillations on visual processing times. Llapashtica, E., Sun, T., Grattan, K. T. V., & Barbur, J. L. (2024). PLOS ONE, 19(5), e0302459.

Cholinergic Neuromodulation of Prefrontal Attractor Dynamics Controls Performance in Spatial Working Memory. Mahrach, A., Bestue, D., Qi, X.-L., Constantinidis, C., & Compte, A. (2024). Journal of Neuroscience, 44(23), e1225232024.

Binocular receptive-field construction in the primary visual cortex. Olianezhad, F., Jin, J., Najafian, S., Pons, C., Mazade, R., Kremkow, J., & Alonso, J.-M. (2024). Current Biology, 34(11), 2474-2486.e5.

Behavioral strategy shapes activation of the Vip-Sst disinhibitory circuit in visual cortex. Piet, A., Ponvert, N., Ollerenshaw, D., Garrett, M., Groblewski, P. A., Olsen, S., … Arkhipov, A. (2024). Neuron, 112(11), 1876-1890.e4.

Exact Distribution of the Quantal Content in Synaptic Transmission. Rijal, K., Müller, N. I. C., Friauf, E., Singh, A., Prasad, A., & Das, D. (2024). Physical Review Letters, 132(22), 228401.

Phase-dependent word perception emerges from region-specific sensitivity to the statistics of language. Ten Oever, S., Titone, L., te Rietmolen, N., & Martin, A. E. (2024). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 121(23), e2320489121.

Temporal interference stimulation disrupts spike timing in the primate brain. Vieira, P. G., Krause, M. R., & Pack, C. C. (2024). Nature Communications, 15, 4558.

Theoretical principles explain the structure of the insect head direction circuit. Vilimelis Aceituno, P., Dall’Osto, D., & Pisokas, I. (2024). eLife, 13, e91533.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Section V: The Evidences (Modern)

When examining the growth of technology and science in the modern century, we are really standing before awe-inspiring inventions and discoveries. Physics and chemistry are applied to the different fields of study, and new labor-saving devices are developed, through the ingenious of some lone scientists and inventors. We are on the dawn of an era where skyscrapers are still impressive and commonplace, where factories are capable of producing one thousand times as much as people could centuries ago, where the spirit of innovation and enterprise is inherent in the minds of all the people — and we start to think, even if for just a few solitary moments, that anything is possible. There is no bridge that cannot be built, no idea that cannot be manifested with earthly materials — no monument to human ingenuity that cannot be constructed. With this, we march towards a brighter future, where there is no dilemma that cannot be solved, no ideal that cannot be reached.

The International Trade Administration records the amount of workers and the value of shipments of each manufacturing industry in the United States of America. By analyzing the amount of wealth is produced by how many laborers, we can discover how much wealth each worker is personally responsible for creating — but, we also see what one worker is capable of producing, only by working alongside other workers with the use of technology. The workers are divided into two groups: total employment and production workers. Total employment includes workers who are not involved in producing anything, such as managerial positions among other things. Production workers, though, are those who are responsible for producing the actual product.

In the food manufacturing industry, there is a total of 1,506,000 workers (1,150,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $413,000,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $274,236.38 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $359,130.43 worth of shipments. Of course, what does it exactly mean, when we measure the amount of money that is produced per worker? It is a very nominal meaning, having no solitary inference on value. So, to draw an analogy, I’ll compare how many products a worker has produced a year, based on the amount of wealth they have created. A good comparison item is a loaf of bread, at the cost of $2.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 137,118 loaves of bread, or each production worker has produced 179,565 loaves of bread. [40]

In the beverage and tobacco product manufacturing industry, there is a total of 175,000 workers (94,500 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $106,943,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $611,102.85 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $1,131,671.95 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a pack of cigarettes, at the cost of $2.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 305,551 packs of cigarettes, or each production worker has produced 565,836 packs of cigarettes. [41]

In the textile mills industry, there is a total of 337,000 workers (286,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $51,846,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $153,845.69 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $181,279.72 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is square yard of cotton, at the cost of $3.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 51,281 square yards of cotton, or each production worker has produced 60,426 square yards of cotton. [42]

In the textile product mills industry, there is a total of 230,000 workers (187,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $31,649,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $137,604.34 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $169,245.98 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a square foot of carpet, at the cost of $0.75. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 183,472 square feet of carpet, or each production worker has produced 225,661 square feet of carpet. [43]

In the apparel manufacturing industry, there is a total of 520,000 workers (420,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $52,727,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $101,398.07 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $125,540.47 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is T-shirt, at the cost of $5.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 20,279 T-shirts, or each production worker has produced 25,108 T-shirts. [44]

In the leather and allied product manufacturing industry, there is a total of 69,200 workers (55,300 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $8,463,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $122,297.68 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $153,037.97 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is belt, at the cost of $8.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 15,287 belts, or each production worker has produced 19,129 belts. [45]

In the wood product manufacturing industry, there is a total of 586,000 workers (486,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $89,337,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $152,452.21 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $183,820.98 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a plank of wood, at the cost of $5.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 30,490 planks of wood, or each production worker has produced 36,764 planks of wood. [46]

In the paper manufacturing industry, there is a total of 548,000 workers (424,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $159,231,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $290,567.51 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $375,544.81 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is bundle of paper, at the cost of $2.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 145,283 bundles of paper, or each production worker has produced 187,772 bundles of paper. [47]

In the printing and related support activities industry, there is a total of 830,000 workers (598,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $99,916,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $120,380.72 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $167,083.61 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is an ounce of ink, at the cost of $1.50. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 80,253 ounces of ink, or each production worker has produced 111,388 ounces of ink. [48]

In the petroleum and coal products manufacturing industry, there is a total of 101,000 workers (67,100 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $229,153,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $2,268,841.58 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $3,415,096.87 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a gallon of gas, at the cost of $2.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 1,134,420 gallons of gas, or each production worker has produced 1,707,548 gallons of gas. [49]

In the chemical manufacturing industry, there is a total of 890,000 workers (511,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $416,017,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $467,434.83 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $814,123.28 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a pound of Halon 1301 (used for preventing fires), at the cost of $4.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 116,858 pounds of Halon 1301, or each production worker has produced 203,530 pounds of Halon 1301. [50]

In the plastics and rubber products manufacturing industry, there is a total of 1,080,000 workers (857,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $172,904,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $160,096.29 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $201,754.95 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a pound of rubber, at the cost of $0.20. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 800,481 pounds of rubber, or each production worker has produced 1,008,774 pounds of rubber. [51]

In the nonmetallic mineral product manufacturing industry, there is a total of 522,000 workers (407,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $91,593,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $175,465.51 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $225,044.22 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a brick, at the cost of $0.50. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 351,123 bricks, or each production worker has produced 450,088 bricks. [52]

In the primary metal manufacturing industry, there is a total of 578,000 workers (459,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $152,157,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $263,247.40 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $331,496.73 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a pound of steel, at the cost of $0.35. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 752,135 pounds of steel, or each production worker has produced 947,133 pounds of steel. [53]

In the fabricated metal product industry, there is a total of 1,815,000 workers (1,375,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $252,030,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $138,859.50 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $183,294.54 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a horseshoe, at the cost of $2.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 69,429 horseshoes, or each production worker has produced 91,647 horseshoes. [54]

In the machinery manufacturing industry, there is a total of 1,396,000 workers (915,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $269,820,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $193,280.80 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $294,885.24 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is an Engine-Based Farm Plow, at the cost of $19,000. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 10 Engine-Based Farm Plows, or each production worker has produced 15 Engine-Based Farm Plows. [55]

In the computer and electronic product manufacturing industry, there is a total of 1,653,000 workers (853,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $475,025,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $287,371.44 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $556,887.45 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a computer, at the cost of $600. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 479 computers, or each production worker has produced 928 computers. [56]

In the electrical equipment, appliance, and component industry, there is a total of 591,000 workers (431,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $117,278,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $198,439.93 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $272,106.72 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a toaster, at the cost of $10.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 19,843 toasters, or each production worker has produced 27,210 toasters. [57]

In the transportation equipment manufacturing industry, there is a total of 1,838,000 workers (1,352,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $619,631,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $337,122.41 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $458,306.95 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a car, at the cost of $12,000. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 28 cars, or each production worker has produced 38 cars. [58]

In the furniture and related product manufacturing industry, there is a total of 641,000 workers (514,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $70,733,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $110,347.89 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $137,612.84 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a chair, at the cost of $25.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 4,413 chairs, or each production worker has produced 5,504 chairs. [59]

In the miscellaneous manufacturing industry, there is a total of 745,000 workers (501,000 production workers out of those). In the year 2000, they produced $105,899,000,000 worth of shipments. Each worker produced $142,146.30 worth of shipments, or if measuring production workers, then each production worker produced $211,375.24 worth of shipments. A good comparison item is a pound of buttons, at the cost of $10.00. In the year 2000, each worker has produced 14,214 pounds of buttons, or each production worker has produced 21,137 pounds of buttons. [60]

When we examine all of the manufacturing industries of the United States put together, we get a much broader image. In total, in the U.S. manufacturing industry, there are 16,651,200 workers (11,942,900 of them production workers), creating shipments worth a total of: $3,985,342,000,000 (nearly four trillion dollars). Each worker produced $239,342.62 worth of shipments, and each production worker produced $333,699.68 worth of shipments. [61] The reason why there is a trend for production workers to be responsible for producing more wealth should be obvious. There is a smaller amount of them, still responsible for producing the same amount of wealth. The reason why I separated them into two groups, showing the difference of wealth they produced, is because one is directly responsible for producing, while the others are not directly responsible. The production workers includes such positions as would be typical in the manufacturing business: assembly line workers (each responsible for their specialization in one aspect of the final product), craftsmen who apply physical labor to objects in order to add value to them (such as a carpenter turning a piece of wood into a chair — though such an example goes back to more primitive technology), and there are other positions of laborers adding wealth to the final product through their labor. Those who do not count as production workers includes an entire different class of laborers: individuals working with management, advertising, human resources department, maybe even a security department. One would reason that to increase profit, income, and productive output, that it would be best to have as many production workers as were necessary to speed up the productive process, and as few managerial or accountant workers as necessary to keep down costs (such as the wages of those individuals). But, this does not happen to always be the case when examining the empirical evidence of the economy. In the computer and electronic product manufacturing industry, there is a total employment of 1,653,000 workers. Of that amount, 853,000 are production employees, and the other 800,000 are non-productive employees. 51.6% of the work force is the actual labor responsible for producing the final product, whereas the other 48.4% are not directly involved production. [62] Of course, this is not the rule, it is rather an exception — one I brought up to demonstrate a valid point, that production workers are not always the largest group of employees. However, when examining other industries of the manufacturing sector, one will see that production workers usually outnumber non-production workers, usually at a rate between 2 to 1 and 8 to 1.

[singeratlarge]

SATURDAY MUSIC VIDEO MATINEE: “We’re Getting Closer to the Sun”—https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uYsfZKue5s  It was 55 years ago today that man set foot on the moon, via the Apollo 11 Moon Mission. On that note, lyrics in this song were prompted by Lt. Uhura’s (Nichelle Nichols) comments to Captain Kirk (William Shatner) in the 1968 Star Trek TV episode, “Bread & Circuses.” The song is the title track from a full-length album in the works—a  collection of songs based on a childlike faith in themes of the cosmos and God, angels and astronauts, spirit and science. Musically it pulls from late 60s experimental pop and psychedelia, surf rock, spy movie music, and future-primitive sounds. I drew inspiration from the moral tales in “The Twilight Zone” TV series, the C.S. Lewis space trilogy, and science fiction books I read in grade school from Scholastic Book Services, particularly books by Alexander Key. Some modern sci-fi (especially in film) is dystopian, depicting the human race as grubby poltroons who deserve to be enslaved by machines or brutal corporate dictators. I defer to a gentler, cleaner, and constructive brand of sci-fi, speaking towards empathy, hope, possibilities, and divine dynamics.

#Sun #StarTrek #LtUhura #NichelleNichols #CaptainKirk #WilliamShatner #God #angels #astronauts #spirit #science #scifi #psychedelic #TwilightZone #CSLewis #AlexanderKey #chrisvonsneidern #sciencefiction #johnnyjblair #singersongwriter #singeratlarge #spacetrilogy #Bread #Circuses #surfrock #spymovie #experimental #pop #faith #cosmos #closer #dystopian #hope #divine #danieltidwell

[dreamofhircine]

okay so here is the 2023 books year-in-review, this is going to be v. long because I ended up reading & re-reading a lot of my backlog after rebuilding the bookshelves in our house. This is going to be roughly sorted, and I'll try and say a little bit about each thing.

Hazel Jane Plante

Little Blue Encyclopedia (for Vivian) - I adored this! It's a slimmer book, closer to a novella, but it was maybe my favorite piece this whole year. The central premise of this is that in a haze of grief after the death of her bestie a woman gets way too into their shared fandom and writes a combination of TV show fandom zine, obituary & love letter. The two-part narrative structure is something that Plante would go on to play w/ more in

Any Other City - also a great book! This is written as the memoir of a trans punk rock star split between her journal style letters in the 90s as she navigated an art scene as a woman who doesn't realize it yet, and then picks up again in the 2020s after her own celebrity was cemented.

Casey Plett

Little Fish - Really rad slice of life about a mennonite trans woman in Canada who has a lot of feelings about that. This feels more than anything like a strong expansion upon several of Plett's short stories in A Dream of a Woman.

A Dream of a Woman - I got lost in so many of the stories in this anthology, Plett writes the lives of these women so vividly it feels like you know them. You probably *do* know them.

A Safe Girl to Love - Plett's first anthology, recently re-published. I was not *as big* a fan of this one, but it still holds up very well and is a good example of her style generally.

The Locked Tomb - I am gonna talk about all three of these in one go, actually. These were really sweet, really nice, I really like the approach to necromancy as just sort of another kind of science or physical force, worked through a process very close to magic. I've been seeing art of these characters around for a long time now and it is nice to finally put a personality to the faces. The pool scene in GtNth especially really hit.

Gideon the Ninth

Harrow the Ninth

Nona the Ninth

Peter Watts - This is also gonna get a block review because so many of the things here are interconnected to one another. Starfish to Behemoth are all in The Rifters Trilogy, and Blindsight & Echopraxia are a pair. Watts has a really great way of tearing down the human brain and playing with all the ways that trauma can influence it, how adaptational quirks can be weaponized. Starfish is probably the single best way to get into his work, but if 'vampires in space' sounds more your speed then Blindsight has it covered.

Starfish

Maelstrom

Behemoth

Blindsight

Echopraxia

qntm

There Is No Antimemetics Division - This is a republish of qntm's large body of work on the SCP wiki, sharing the same name. This is really solid, and the use of narrative negative space is interesting.

Valuable Humans in Transit and Other Stories - A slim collection of short stories and an overall much better showing from qntm, no longer tied up w/ SCP stuff. The things that delve into the implication of human mind based AI constructs especially is really strongly written and will leave you thinking for a while after.

The Division - Broken Dawn is the older entry and did not really capture my attention very strongly, it felt phoned in more than anything else. Recruited & Compromised by contrast could stand on their own w/o The Division branding though both are very well integrated into the game, w/ events going back and forth between the two now that the game is getting more narrative content to it.

The Division: Broken Dawn

The Division: Recruited

The Division: Compromised

D&D - You can probably guess why I jumped into these and what game got me to do it. Drizzt is something I avoided for a very long time because of the associations in the fandom and that was probably not unwarranted tbh. I probably won't continue w/ the series after Exile. It is competently written but these things are creaking w/ their own age and just don't have enough going on to stand on their own unfortunately.

Drizzt: Homeland

Drizzt: Exile

The Devil You Know - Another entry in the Brimstone Angels series, which is my favorite of any of the longer running D&D series. Centered around the misadventures of a Tiefling Warlock and how she gets pulled into the big-dick-swinging matches between various devils trying to make their weird little power plays.

40K

Horusian Wars: Incarnation - This was stellar. Great look at the Inquisition and how insular and back-stabby it can be, I hope more comes from this.

Kasrkin - A mostly by the numbers book that was written entirely to promote the 'kasrkin vs necrons' Kill Team box that came out a bit back. Competent but doesn't have anything new or interesting to say.

Pariah - Eh. This wasn't bad, but it wasn't that good either. Abnett has long been one of my favorite authors in general, not even just in 40k specifically, but I don't think it is controversial to say he has fallen off lately. Compared to his earlier stuff w/ the Inquisitors, hell even compared to stuff like that Horusian Wars book and Pariah just doesn't do enough and the whole Bequin sequence right now feels like it is mostly being done to shift things around in the meta-narrative rather than be good books that stand on their own feet.

The Armour of Contempt - I re-read this one recently and it was just as good as when I first picked it up in high school. Abnett is at some of his best here.

General Fiction (Unsorted)

The Archive Undying: The Downworld Sequence Book 1 - Homosexual activities in a sci-fi fantasy world once dominated by city-scale god-king AIs that went critically rampant a long time ago. This is a really great start to what I hope will be an excellent series.

The Darkness That Comes Before - Re-read after initially reading this when it was new and I was like a pre-teen. Definitely not a book a pre-teen should read and maybe some of that explains why I am like this now. Let's not look at that *too* closely, yeah? This still stands on its own after all these years, though I hear the series in general kind of flagged after a while. If you're into nihilist fantasy check it out.

Burning Chrome - Re-read and enjoyed yet again. Classic Gibson, lays the frame upon which the rest of his body of work would be built.

Pattern Recognition - Re-read this and it still holds up. Gibson is at his height here, calling shots that would start to land almost *immediately* after he published it. Reading this may re-orient your fashion sense entirely so be forewarned and have a bit of space in your wardrobe first I guess.

All You Need Is Kill - Another re-read! I got back into this after realizing that a lot of that traumatized mech pilot pornography I was writing drew so much inspiration for this. I still love the story, I still love the framing, I still love the short and brutal way it is written and the translation is very solid.

Wasteland: Stories of the Apocalypse - Yet another re-read. I originally read this in high school and I owe a great amount of creative debt to some of these stories, hugely influential works and I recommend picking this up.

This Shape We’re in - A tiny little novella by the author of Motherless Brooklyn (which is currently sitting in my 'to do' pile). There is no adequate way to describe this that wouldn't sound like a joke, it is Lethem's most unusual and maybe his best for that.

Poetry

In the Shape of a Human Body I Am Visiting the Earth - Mostly translated poetry, this was solidly collected and a great example of Global(tm) Poetry.

One Hundred Apocalypses and other Apocalypses - More microfic really but I liked this. The different ways the world can end, be it physically from bombs or emotionally in a bad text message.

Wound from the Mouth of a Wound - Simply beautiful collection of work by torrin a. greathouse, I *adored* this.

Non-Fiction

Underlands: A Deep Time Journey - This was beautiful, simply put. A deep dive (hehe) into places beneath the earth and the people that spend more time beneath the surface than above it. I especially loved the travelogue in the cordoned off sections of the Paris catacombs, you can really feel the claustrophobia and danger of it all.

Bitch: The Female of the Species - I picked this up solely because it had a picture of a hyena on the cover. I do not regret that, it was great and that is something I seldom stay about pop-academic gender books.

Emergence: Labeled Autistic - Temple Grandin's first autobiography. This has been heavily dated in how she talks about being autistic and she has changed her views on this several times, to the point where depending on the version you pick up there may be several introductions from the author in a sequence reflecting on this. It is rare to see autobiographies from notable autistic women, it is rare for there to *be* notable autistic women, so I am really happy that I read this.

Memento Mori: The Dead Among Us - Mostly a photo book that I picked up while on a trip to MFABoston w/ my girlfriend. This is a great little table book if nothing else.

Infrastructural Brutalism: Art and the Necropolitics of Infrastructure - A somewhat dry but well researched dive into massive infrastructure projects and the death cult attitude that empowers them.

Queering Mennonite Literature - A university press publication, you know the drill w/ these. Good base to start from if you want to get more into the intersection of queer & menno literature, which is why I picked it up after reading a lot of Casey Plett's books.

David Graeber

Bullshit Jobs - Maybe the best that Graeber has been, and also an example of him leaning really hard into the pop-science aspect of his public persona. If you've got an office job that feels completely fake please read this.

The Dawn of Everything - Graeber's last work before his death and... Well I think it is really good, well written, broadly researched, but much like Debt you're going to either agree w/ his premise or not. There are some rather radical takes here. I highly recommend it though.

Debt: The First 5000 Years - There has been a lot of back and forth on this and there will never be a solid answer. I think the arguments made here are fairly strong, pretty convincing, but if you're involved in this academically in any way you're liable to have a lot of strong opinions one way or another as you read it.

LitMags

Clarkesworld: Every sci-fi enjoying homosexual has a Clarkesworld subscription these days so I don't have a lot unique to say about this. Great year for work, I love the regular infusion of translated works as usual, and I hope that the recent business hits they've taken don't impact it too hard. Definitely re-subbing.

Alaska Quarterly Review: There were some good entries to this but for the most part it kind of felt like an 'eating your vegetables' situation. I probably won't renew for the next year, but I don't *regret* picking it up this year either.

McSweeney’s: Solid as ever, though I found the 'halloween' issue they did to be kind of boring overall. Everything else was primarily hits, and I'll be carrying this forward next year.

[mbari-blog]

Today is MBARI's 36th anniversary! To celebrate, we are sharing the story of MBARI's R/V Western Flyer.

David Packard believed that addressing the challenges of ocean exploration required a new type of research institute—one independent in spirit and collaborative by design. He founded MBARI on the core principle of scientists, engineers, and marine operations working in equal partnership to develop innovative marine technology. The research vessel Western Flyer embodied MBARI’s willingness to think big, be bold, and invest in long-term outcomes.

Constructed in 1996 with a unique twin hull design, the 117-foot SWATH vessel represented David Packard’s vision of developing innovative new platforms to better access and explore the ocean. SWATH, which stands for small waterplane area twin hull, means the ship is much more stable than more common monohulled vessels. This stability, combined with a specially constructed moonpool at the center of the vessel, made the ship an ideal platform to deploy, operate, and recover remotely operated vehicles (ROVs). For much of its time at MBARI the Western Flyer worked together with the Doc Ricketts, MBARI’s ROV capable of exploring to depths of 4,000 meters (2.5 miles).

The Western Flyer was instrumental to many of MBARI’s achievements: from studying ecosystems that could give insights into the impacts of climate change on the ocean, to identifying more than 200 new species—including a crown jelly, a harp sponge, and an incredible bone-eating worm named Osedax westernflyer in honor of the ship itself. During its quarter-century at MBARI, the Western Flyer also traveled to conduct research beyond its home base of Monterey Bay, venturing northwards to sites such as the Pacific Northwest, and southwards to places like Hawaii and Mexico’s Gulf of California.

After 25 years of serving as MBARI’s flagship research vessel, the Western Flyer has begun a new chapter in education. MBARI granted the ship to the University of South Florida, which hosts the Florida Institute of Oceanography (FIO), for use as a sailing classroom. FIO will provide students with a unique mix of at-sea and on-shore training and mentoring to build ocean science, engineering, and maritime trade skills. The new program will focus on engaging students from historically black colleges and universities, minority-serving institutions, and tribal colleges, providing an opportunity for students of diverse backgrounds and experiences to learn more about careers in ocean science, engineering, and marine operations. MBARI wishes the Western Flyer well in this next stage of its life, as it continues to foster the spirit of exploration in future generations of the ocean STEM community. Learn more on our website. 

[loiladadiani]

👑The Romanov Dynasty

The Grand Duchy of Moscow under Prince Ivan III was the first unified state on Russian territory. With him began the Rurikid Dynasty (the Rurikid had been around for a long time along hoards of tartars).

The Rurikid ruled from the 1400s until the 1600s. Ivan III can be considered the founder of Russia. While the Rurikid were in power, the Romanovs were boyars (nobles) in their courts. When the Ruriks became extinct, the Romanovs took over. The "Zemsky Sorbor" (a rudimentary parliament) elected Mikhail Feodorovich as the first Romanov Tzar.

The direct male line of the Romanovs ended with Elizabeth of Russia, who was childless. Her nephew Peter III, a member of the House of Holstein-Gottorp (a cadet branch of the German House of Oldenburg that reigned in Denmark), ascended to the throne and adopted his Romanov mother’s house name. Descendants after Elizabeth are sometimes referred to as "Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov."

The above is a gross oversimplification of a very complex course of events.

Highlights about each Romanov Tsar/Tsarina:

👑Mikhail Feodorovich (1613 - 1645): First Romanov Tsar

👑Alexei Mikhailovich (1645 - 1676): Encouraged trade and cooperation with Europe. Father of Peter the Great

👑Feodor III (1676 - 1682): Had very poor health and spent most of his reign in bed

👑Peter I and 👑 Ivan V (1689 - 1785): It was complicated. The two of them were Tsars under the regency of their older sister Sophia.

👑Peter I (1689-1725): Reformed Russia's politics, government, and culture. Made Russia a military power.

👑Catherine I (1725-1727): At the time of Peter the Great's death, the mechanism for succession consisted of the Tsar selecting his successor, but Peter did not elect one before dying. His wife became the Tsarina, but others governed through her.

👑Peter II (1727-1730): Peter's grandson; ascended the throne at 11 and died at 14. The "Privy Council" or "Soviet" ruled through him.

👑Anna Ioannovna (1730-1740): Daughter of Peter's half-brother Ivan. The Privy Council invited her to rule (wanting her to be a puppet), but she disbanded them and ruled herself successfully.

👑Ivan VI (1740-1741): One-year-old son of Ana's niece. She left the throne to him, expecting his mother to govern. Elizabeth, daughter of Peter the Great, deposed him (and his mother.)

👑Elizabeth Petrovna (1741-1761): Last Russian on the Russian throne; her twenty-year reign was successful.

👑Peter III (1761-1762): Grandson of Peter the Great and next in line for the throne after Elizabeth. Ruled for only half a year before being deposed by his wife, Catherine. He was murdered soon after the coup d’etat.

👑Catherine the Great (1762-1796):  Her accomplishment went from the Empire’s territorial expansion to political development to the proliferation of sciences. However, the Empire had an enormous external debt by the end of her reign.

👑Paul I (1796-1801): Paul, the son of Catherine the Great and Peter III, became Emperor at 42 after the death of his mother. He started a lot of major military and political reforms. Paul was murdered in a coup d'etat. Paul decreed house laws for the Romanovs (the Pauline laws) – among the strictest in Europe – which established semi-Salic primogeniture and required Orthodox faith for the monarch and dynasts

👑Alexander I (1801-1825): During his reign, Russia defeated Napoleon's forces (which got as far as Moscow in their attempt to conquer Russia.) There was also great development in culture and arts.

👑Nicholas I (1825-1855): Paul I’s third son, younger brother of Alexander. Started railroad construction in Russia, boosting industrialization. Codified Russian laws and reformed finances.

👑Alexander II (1855-1881): His major reforms included the peasant emancipation of 1861, military reform, and the introduction of new types of self-governing village societies and more. Unfortunately, he fell victim to a terrorist after five attempts.

👑Alexander III (1881-1894): Russia didn’t enter any wars in his time. His domestic policy was conservative. He amended the Pauline laws. The economy flourished. But the revolution was brewing below the surface.

👑Nicholas II (1894-1917): His policies were unsuccessful. Established the first official Duma in 1905, but it was too little too late. With the advent of WWI, the Russian Empire ceased to exist. He abdicated. (gcl)

Sources:

Panov, A., Delaroche, P., & Abramuchkin, Y. (2021, July 31). The Complete List of Russian Tsars, Emperors, and Presidents. Russia Beyond. Retrieved June 20, 2023, from https://www.rbth.com/history/334065-complete-list-of-russian-tsars-emperors-rulers-presidents

[leonhorn]

In 2054 Capitalism Dies in Space | In 20xx Scifi and Futurism by In 20xx Futurism When people in space are cut off from Earth an imbalance of owner vs. customers comes to a breaking point. The people in space believe no one is left alive on Earth. As far as they know, the (around) 12,000 in space is all that's left of humanity. Those living on and near the moon form Luna Nation. Space refugees scattered near Earth must find a way to insure a future for themselves and their children. AI that in many ways exceed human intelligence play a part in a skirmish for resources. What does it take to outsmart an AI that can make you think you're having a video call with a co-conspirator when it's the AI you are talking to? An finally, if AI can make a six part miniseries staring Drew Barrymore and Crispin Glover about using DNA banks to spawn a new human race, what parts would the two actors play? Here's a list of the technology mentioned in the story: 1. Orbital stations and space habitats 2. Micro-gravity adapting robots (e.g., vacuum bots) 3. Smart glass walls 4. Satellite cameras 5. AI assistants (e.g., Butler AI) 6. Augmented Reality (AR) glasses 7. Canal links (brain-computer interfaces) 8. Virtual Reality (VR) equipment 9. Life support systems for space 10. Automated mining and manufacturing in space 11. Fusion-powered spaceships 12. Electric thrusters for spacecraft 13. Legacy tracking systems for spacecraft 14. Ejection systems for spacecraft 15. Motion stabilizers for space suits 16. Emergency beacons in space suits 17. Artificial wombs 18. DNA banks 19. Brain scanning and digital copying technology 20. Robots capable of performing complex tasks 21. Centrifuges for simulating gravity 22. Terraforming technology (theoretical, for Venus) 23. Advanced medical automation 24. Custom cell cultivators 25. Organ printing technology 26. Stasis technology for long space journeys 27. Laser tight-beam communication 28. Rockets and missiles (mentioned as being disabled) 29. Closed-circuit TVs in spacecraft 30. Space construction vehicles (e.g., "spider") 31. Delivery cruisers 32. Research ships 33. Hologram-producing screens Many of the characters in this project appear in future episodes. Using storytelling to place you in a time period, this series takes you, year by year, into the future. If you like emerging tech, eco-tech, futurism, perma-culture, apocalyptic survival scenarios, and disruptive science, sit back and enjoy short stories that showcase my research into how the future may play out. This is Episode 56 of the podcast "In 20xx Scifi and Futurism." The companion site is https://in20xx.com where you can find a timeline of the future, descriptions of future development, and printed fiction. These are works of fiction. Characters and groups are made-up and influenced by current events but not reporting facts about people or groups in the real world. Copyright © Leon Horn 2024. All rights reserved. Episode link: https://ift.tt/k06LA7S (video made with https://ift.tt/pO3bjSh) via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tFJVPfQw2k

[tokiponaalanguageofgood]

Toki Pona: The Language of Simplicity

Toki Pona, created by Canadian linguist Sonja Lang in 2001, is a minimalist constructed language with a vocabulary of only 120-137 root words. Its design encourages simplicity, positivity, and mindful communication.

Philosophy

Inspired by Taoist principles, Toki Pona promotes minimalism and essentialism. It aims to simplify thoughts and speech, fostering a positive and deliberate way of thinking.

Structure

Vocabulary: Each root word in Toki Pona is versatile, with meanings shaped by context. Complex ideas are conveyed through word combinations.

Phonology: The language uses just 14 phonemes (9 consonants, 5 vowels) and has a simple (C)V(n) syllable structure.

Grammar: Toki Pona features a straightforward grammar, typically following a Subject-Verb-Object (SVO) order. There are no tenses, cases, or genders.

Community and Usage

Toki Pona has an active global community. It's used in online forums, social media, and meetups, fostering creativity and mindfulness among speakers.

Benefits

Cognitive: Enhances problem-solving and creativity by encouraging simplified thinking.

Cultural: Promotes a minimalist and positive lifestyle.

Educational: Serves as a valuable tool for studying linguistic relativity and cognitive science.

Toki Pona is more than a language—it's a way of life that celebrates simplicity and mindfulness. Whether for linguistic curiosity or a desire for a simpler existence, Toki Pona offers a unique and enriching perspective on communication.