#we still teach history wrong

[alpaca-clouds]

Great Men Theory - And Why It Sucks

When I already rant on my Sundays about historical misconceptions and how history is taught wrong, I cannot help but also talk about the entire Great Men Theory and how much it has influenced how we teach history to... basically everyone. This entire fucking theory goes back to a dude called Thomas Carlyle, who wrote in one of his books:

Universal History, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at bottom the History of the Great Men who have worked here. They were the leaders of men, these great ones; the modellers, patterns, and in a wide sense creators, of whatsoever the general mass of men contrived to do or to attain; all things that we see standing accomplished in the world are properly the outer material result, the practical realisation and embodiment, of Thoughts that dwelt in the Great Men sent into the world: the soul of the whole world's history, it may justly be considered, were the history of these.

And sadly... This way of talking about history is nice and convinient, no matter how factually wrong it is. Because instead of having to explore historical society and what made people back then "tick", you can can do: "And then this one dude did this. And this other big dude did that." And done.

Before I knew about this theory, I already encountered it. In the way many German kids will encounter it. Nazi Germany. Because while we have this big thing going about "rememberance culture" and what not... Yeah, we mostly talk about Nazi Germany, as if Hitler and some of his dude friends, like Himmler and Göbbels, did stuff and nobody else could've done something about it. And we will talk about the few folks who tried to do something about it. This leaves many under the impression that actually Hitler and his fellow friends were subjucating the German populus, who were unable to do a thing about the Holocaust or the war. And that... Just is not how it played out in reality. Most people in Germany at the time supported Hitler, knew about the Holocaust and were A-Okay with it.

And this is something that happens again and again in the way we talk about history. We talk about the big dudes and whatever they did or didn't do. Either as heroes or as villains. But we leave out all the people who were there to either enforce their policies, suffer from it, or rise up against it.

This creates a version of history, in which 99,99999% of all people were basically just "NPCs" in a game played by the few. Which not only does wrong by this majority of people, who might as well have had a hand in some of the things happening, but it also is used as a constant propaganda tool. Be it to ignore, how many attrocities have been supported and partaken in by a lot of people, so folks today do not need to deal with that fallout. Or be it to ignore the man, who have fought for a better outcome - often to either make protest seem senseless, or to make those few great man seem more heroic. (See also: Basically any anti-colonialist movement that got erased from history.)

I am not even denying that those in power had a bigger influence on history than anyone else. But not because they were born with some traits that made it so, but for the most part, because they were born into power through their bloodline, or at least into riches.

And it does not mean that nobody else had an influence, even if we like to forget the "everyone else" usually.

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies

[dampfoxes]

not to be dramatic but

[omgthatdress]

Oh god it gets worse

Okay, before I go any further I should give a little disclaimer that there's nothing wrong with doing a Christian-themed line of dolls. Toys and stories as a way to teach faith are nothing new and can be perfectly appropriate ways for kids to learn.

However the Life of Faith dolls are a unique kind of fucking horrible because they are obviously American Girl knockoffs. Instead of meaningfully engaging with the difficult themes of history like the AG dolls did, they present a disgustingly white-washed, pretty, frilly, and pleasant view of history that straight up ignores the dark stuff.

So the Life of Faith dolls are based on the Elsie Dinsmore stories which were published between 1867 and 1905. They're about a deeply faithful little girl who grows up on a plantation. In the books, when Elsie turns 18, she marries HER FATHER'S BEST FRIEND, because, to quote Wikipedia, "He has been her knight in shining armor who constantly helps her when other people are cruel to her; he has loved her for a long time." Yeah we call that "grooming" today.

Yeah, that's pretty sickening. But there IS a girl who escapes slavery in this series lemme see how that gets addressed....

WAIT YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE ESCAPES FROM THE SAME BEAUTIFUL PLANTATION THE OTHER GIRL WAS RAISED ON?! So when Elsie came of age she would literally own Laylie. Seriously did no one see the conflict in this?! Did no one involved in all of this stop for a moment and think, maybe we're not presenting a fully accurate view of history?

What really galls me is the playing Robin Hood stuff. While enslaved children did find ways to play and have fun, their lived were still dominated by the grueling, demeaning work they had to do. And they would not be given luxurious playthings like bows and arrows and green silk capes. And they didn't have frilly pretty dresses and elaborate hairdos.

I know the dolls are Christian and they all come with a little Bible but like.... Are we just gonna ignore the whole "slaves weren't allowed to read" thing?

While all the other dolls come with lots of dresses and accessories, Laylie only has the one dress and her Robin Hood accessories.

So yeah we're just skipping over the whole Civil War and Reconstruction. Violet is Elsie's daughter still growing up on the plantation like always.

So moral of the story, when you're trying to teach kids about history, maybe try a book series that wasn't written by this lady:

Because you actually can write stories about faith and being Christian that DON'T involve romanticizing slavery.

[brokenmenswhore]

potions | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

summary: regulus invites his potions partner over to his family home to “help her practice”

warnings: DUBCON (MDNI 18+), choking, smut, rough sex

────── ☾ ──────

When Regulus invited you into his home to use his in-house potions lab, you were suspicious. Regulus always had a darkness to him, and as your potions partner, he was never cruel to you, but he wasn’t the type to make such a kind gesture.

You accepted, knowing you could really use the extra practice. Regulus was talented at potions, and you felt bad that you were barely any help in class. As strange as it may be, you figured some extra time would benefit you, and Regulus could teach you and thing or two, if he felt kind enough to do so.

“Come on in,” he said, gesturing you through the door.

You smiled as you followed him through the house, the lighting almost as dark as his all-black outfit.

“I keep my potions stuff in here,” he said, pushing open the door to his bedroom.

“In your bedroom?”

“Mhm,” he responded, completely nonchalant about the fact you were in his personal space, while you felt it was a little strange. You didn’t know him too well, though you were attracted to him, and now you were only a few feet away from his bed.

He walked over to the table. “You coming?”

You swallowed and approached him, looking at the large collection of jars and ingredients spread out on the table.

“Should we maybe let your parents know I’m here? That there’s someone else in the house?”

Regulus chuckled. “The only other person here is my brother.”

“Sirius is here?”

Regulus shot you a look. You and Sirius had a weird past- you hooked up a few times at parties, you caught feelings and he didn’t, and you never spoke again. It was all ancient history, but you still tried to avoid being around him at all costs.

“Why does it matter?” Regulus asked.

“It doesn’t,” you spoke in a small voice, drifting your attention to the table, “so? What first?”

“Figured we could maybe just make sure you’re set on ingredients,” Regulus said. Everything he said was so dry, low, and monotone, and it sometimes made conversation hard.

“I think I’m comfortable with the ingredients side of things,” you told him.

“You’re not.”

You furrowed your brow and looked at him. “Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am!” you fought, “I know my own skill levels, Regulus.”

“I don’t think you do.”

He was so nonchalant about everything, reorganizing ingredients and setting up potion recipes as he spoke, as if anything he said didn’t matter.

You sighed and gave up fighting it, letting him take control and decide where to go from here. There was no point in going back and forth on the same thing over and over again.

“How about we just start with Shrinking Solution?” Regulus asked.

“Fine by me,” you answered.

Regulus backed away from the table, watching you do nothing. You looked back at him. Did he expect you to just do it?

“Well?” he said, “make the potion.”

You sighed. Sometimes he was so annoying and condescending. You looked at the unlabeled recipe and removed 7 red rose petals from a case of singular petals.

You began to drop them one-by-one in the boiling water. You looked at Regulus, who nodded at you to keep going. “How difficult,” you said sarcastically.

Remus folded his arms in front of his chest, watching you carefully.

You added five drops of essence of violet, stirring counterclockwise exactly twelve times.

“I don’t remember shrinking solution having essence of violet,” you told Regulus.

“Are you claiming my recipes are wrong?”

“No, I’m just saying.” You sighed and continued with the recipe, counting out 4 cloves and prepping canary flight feathers.

He didn’t say a word, just watching you make the potion, until you had completed the instructions.

“I also don’t remember it being pink,” you pouted, looking confused at the pot.

“I could have sworn this potion had daisy roots somewhere-“

“Would you relax?” Regulus questioned.

“Something just feels off about it,” you said, inspecting the liquid.

“Does it smell right?” he asked.

You leaned in and sniffed. The potion smelt like lavender, vanilla, freshly cut grass, and all your favorite smells.

The smell maintained throughout the smoke that you breathed in, overtaking your senses and filling your lungs. “Fuck that smells good,” you giggled.

Regulus crept behind you as silently as he could. When you stood up, he was directly behind you, your back almost banging into his torso.

You spun around to meet his gaze. “Can I help you with something?” you asked.

“I don’t know, can you?”

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you were suddenly overtaken with adoration.

“I think I probably can,” you said, all logic going out the window as the potion took over your emotions, your focus completely on Regulus.

“Atta girl,” he tsked, gripping your waist as he looked down at you. “How you feelin’, pretty girl?”

You were overcome with intense emotion, but you fought to remain grounded in reality. “You motherfucker,” you said, letting Regulus know that you were aware he had you make the wrong potion. This was not Shrinking Solution, this was Amortentia.

“No idea what you’re referring to,” he said.

“You know,” you started, twirling his already wavy hair in your fingers, “you could have just asked if you wanted me.”

“Now could I?” he asked, intrigued and eager to hear you continue talking.

“Mhm.”

“I thought I wasn’t your type.”

“Why?”

“You slept with my brother, did you not?”

Your eyes widened a bit. “And you know that how?”

“He’s my brother,” he said, holding you closer to him, his tone finally lifting to a bit lighter of a place, “and I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

You giggled. “Have not.”

“I have been,” he admitted, “had to make sure you weren’t fucking anyone who didn’t deserve you.”

“I haven’t been fucking anyone,” you told him honestly.

“I know.”

“You wanna know why?”

His gaze darkened.

You sighed, “the only person I’ve wanted to fuck is standing right in front of me.”

Regulus growled, gripping your waist even harder and pulling you even closer. “Then what did I do all this work for? Getting you over here, the Amortentia, you’re telling me I worked for it for nothing?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, amused at how much thought and planning went into getting you here. You weren’t obvious about your attraction to him, but it couldn’t be that hard to notice.

“I feel drunk on you,” you admitted.

Regulus smiled. You had never ever seen him smile before. You didn’t even know he was capable.

“You’re so pretty when you smile,” you said genuinely, a hand moving upward so you could run a thumb over his cheek.

He couldn’t help himself anymore, he crashed his lips onto yours. Your hand found it’s way to the back of his head, holding him closer. You whimpered into the kiss, desperation overtaking your body. You couldn’t help it, the scent of the potion was still filling the room, and you were consumed in Regulus.

“I want you,” you said in between kisses, eager to finally get what you wanted.

Regulus didn’t break the kiss or loosen his grip on your waist, but instead inched you closer and closer to the bed. You felt the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you jumped up, attempting to land on the mattress, but Regulus caught you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He leaned over you, your back touching the mattress as you kept your legs around Regulus. He remained standing, the small of your back at the edge of the side of the bed.

Regulus finally broke the kiss, running his hands all over your body and inspecting every single inch of you. “I’m gonna make you scream so loud that Sirius will realize what he’s missing.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Your heightened emotions won, and the more you tried to stay quiet, the more hysterical your laugh became.

Regulus slapped your thigh. “What the fuck is so funny?”

“You.”

“Shut up,” Regulus demanded, kissing you to distract you from the hysterics in your brain. You melted back into him, forgetting why you were even laughing in the first place.

You were still having too much fun to let him win so easy, and you liked watching him work for it. “Make me.”

Regulus cocked his head to the side. “What did you just say?”

A giggle threatened to leave your lips. “I said make me.”

A hand suddenly squeezed around your throat, not completely cutting off your breath, but stopping your giggling.

Regulus flashed you a wicked smile. “That seemed to work, didn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” you squeaked out.

Regulus moved a hand in between your bodies, cupping your heat from on top of your underwear. You inhaled sharply, desperate for any sort of friction.

Regulus tucked his fingers into the band of your underwear, collecting your wetness with his middle finger as he traced it in between your folds. A sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and Regulus watched your face intently.

You thought he was going to continue on like this, slowly working you up until you were ready for him, but Regulus had other ideas. Without warning, he shoved two long fingers inside of you, his palm resting on your clit and circling, as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

Your body responded, back arching off the bed, a hand still around your throat. You squirmed a bit, unable to stay still from the sensation.

Regulus watched your chest rise and fall as your back arched and fell, his cock hardening as he watched what he did to you.

He curled his fingers, hitting that gummy sweet spot within you, causing your walls to convulse around his fingers. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he cooed, “come for me.”

His words undid you, the coil of tension within you breaking as you came on his fingers, whines and whimpers constantly filling the room as you calmed down from your high. He pulled his fingers out of you, never breaking eye contact as he sucked your juices off of them.

Once his fingers were licked clean, he unwrapped your legs from his waist, removing his hand from your throat.

“Stay,” he commanded as he untied his pants, pushing them, along with his underwear, down enough to free his hard and swollen cock.

You let out an audible gasp at the size.

“What? Too much for you?”

“How-“ you didn’t even know what to say, “how is that gonna fit in me?”

“I think you’ll be fine, pretty girl.”

Regulus held his palm in front of your mouth. “Spit.”

You did as he said, and he used your spit to wet his cock, lining up his tip with your entrance.

“You want this?” he asked.

“Yes, Reg,” you replied.

Regulus almost showed you mercy when he heard the nickname, it just sounded so pretty coming from you, but he still didn’t. “Beg for it.”

You nodded your head no in protest.

A hand grabbed your face, pushing your lips out and positioning your head so that you had no choice but to look him in the eye. “Beg. For. It.”

“P-please, Regulus I n-“

Regulus slapped your cheek, hard. You gasped at the pain, almost stunned that he did such a thing.

“Use that pretty little nickname you called me.”

“Please, Reg, I need it, p-please-“

Regulus shoved his length into you, a moan of his name leaving your lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Regulus growled, setting a steady pace as he pumped in and out of you. He tugged at the bottom of your dress. “Off.”

You did your best to pull your dress off without interrupting his pace, struggling for a minute but eventually succeeding. Regulus leaned in and bit at your bra strap, snapping it back onto your body. He kisses the top of your breasts, shoving your nipples out of the cups, his tongue immediately sucking on one of them.

“Fuck!” you cried out, the pleasure of his mouth on your breasts and his cock splitting you open, and the scent of the potion still filled your nose, almost feeling like too much.

“Louder,” he demanded, serious when he said he would make you scream so loud that Sirius could hear you.

“Fuck, Reg!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, his pace quickening as you did so.

“Good girl,” he praised.

He sucked a sweet spot on your neck, your head rolling to the side to give him even more access.

He was slamming into you, the bed squeaking as your body rocked back and forth. Your legs were weak as they fell off the side of the bed, but Regulus didn’t want the position to change. He grabbed both of your legs, positioning them over his shoulders and fucking into you even deeper.

You squeaked and whined, not even capable of any genuine moans anymore.

“You gonna come again, huh? All over my cock?” Regulus gasped out.

“Mhm.”

“Words, pretty girl.”

“Y- yes!” you squealed, your high hitting you again as you squeezed his cock, a groan leaving Regulus’s mouth as he fucked you while you came, pace never faltering as you attempted to come down from your high.

Regulus was still chasing his own, his lips enveloping yours in a heated kiss as he snapped his hips as fast as he could until he came inside of you, erratic breaths and sighs spilling into the kiss.

“Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through his hair that was sweat slicked and falling in front of his face.

“God, I needed that,” you said, attempting to catch your breath as Regulus laid down next to you.

Regulus didn’t respond, he just stared at the ceiling, calming himself down.

“Reg?” you asked.

“Mhm?”

“You didn’t bring me here just to fuck me and piss your brother off, right?” you asked.

Regulus turned to you. “Do you think that low of me?”

“No. I’m just curious,” you explained.

“No, I didn’t bring you here to piss my brother off,” he answered, “it’s just a massive, massive plus.” He rolled over the placed a kiss on your lips.

[lowkeyerror]

Help With The Curriculum

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: Professor!Harkness, Professor!Reader, smut, cunnulingus, fingering, dirty talk, thigh riding, pregnancy/breeding kink mentioned, Let me know if there are more

Summary: Both you and Agatha are history professors at university. The students often compare your courses so Agatha attends one of your lectures. She asks you to go to dinner with her, to help her come up with a more engaging curriculum. Just meal between two educators... until it’s not

An: I see a lot of professor Agatha content and I wanted in 🤷‍♀️.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Professor Harkness was a scary woman. You had heard students mumble about her in the hallways and in your own classroom as well. They’re were often a lot of comparisons between the two of you, considering you were both history professors.

Students who ended up in your course before it filled up, were considered the lucky ones. Anyone else had to take on professor Harkness.

Her approach to teaching was very no-nonsense and straight-forward. Some described her lectures as too complex to follow, her paper to hard to tackle, and her attitude too much to handle.

The way they spoke about her and her course, made you feel like you were doing something wrong. You hadn’t struck fear of failure into your students. It was their money and time that they were wasting if they consistently did poorly, in your opinion.

Agatha and yourself had roughly the same success rate amongst the students. The averages were high and for that you were grateful.

You slowly paced the lecture hall as you spoke. Your voice bounced off the walls, accompanied by the low hums of laptops and the sound of typing.

The class was nearly over, but you wanted to make sure the students were prepared for the upcoming exam, so you made sure to hammer the last few points in.

“Alright, I know it’s a 3-day weekend and you all plan to make the most of it, but you should make some time to study too. When you come back, we’ll review and then the following class will be a test. Have a good weekend everyone.”

With your dismissal, everyone began to gather their things and exit the lecture hall. You head back to your desk and begin to organize some of the students’ papers.

“Your approach is a lot better than they give you credit for.”

You lift your head to meet the voice. Professor Harkness is sat in one of seats, eyes focused on you.

“Professor Harkness, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She rises from her seat and makes her way over to your desk, “I just had to see you lecture in person. The students talk you know?”

You hum, “What do they say?”

She tilts her head in faux-thought, “Something along the line of you being a much better lecturer than I am and how your class has a better ‘vibe’ than mine.”

You chuckle at her antics, “Well, you started off by saying I deserve more credit for my work.”

Her smile is sly, “You do, because they talk about you like you’re some kind of pushover, but you don’t really come off like that.”

You shrug, “Gossip doesn’t stop in high school. We’re both good educators. Roughly the same results with the students as well. Did you come to just scope me out?”

“I was hoping to talk curriculum with you. I’ve been trying to find something more interesting, that keeps them engaged, but still feels on path with the course?”

You nod along to her words, “Sounds good, do you have anything in mind?”

“Too many to count, if I’m being honest. Maybe we can figure something out together over dinner?”

Your head stops bobbing and you give her your full attention, “Dinner?”

Professor Harkness doubles down, “Dinner. Nothing crazy, just a meal between colleagues. I’ll pick you up at 8.”

You begin to scribble a few words on a piece of paper, then hand the paper to the other professor, “I will see you tonight, Professor Harkness.”

She tucks your address into the pocket of her jacket, “Please, just Agatha.”

“Alright, Agatha, I’ll see you tonight,” her name holds weight on your tongue.

She shines you an award winning smile, “Later Professor L/n.”

Before you can correct her she’s turned her back on you opting to exit the hall. Your eyes linger on her figure as she walks out. It feels like there's an extra pep in her step, a sway in her hips, a happiness that is rarely seen on the woman. The thought that you had that kind of effect on her made you smile a little.

She was an attractive woman. It was the combination of her intellect, her charm, and her appearance. Agatha was a perfect 10 in all of the categories. It was hard not to feel something for her. Having dinner with her might be the best part of the three-day weekend.

With the distraction from Agatha, you couldn't go back to grading papers. Your body has finally caught up to your mind and you began to fluster as you thought about tonight. You already had your last class for the day so you decide to just go home.

Before you settle in too much, you go through your closet, trying to find something to wear. You had no idea, where you were going. It made it hard to pick something to wear. She did say that this was nothing crazy, and you were technically just going to talk about the curriculum, so did you really need to go all out?

You ended up going with something that was simple, but elevated. Once you had your outfit sorted out, you went to get ready. A good shower, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and doing your hair, were all things you did.

It was 8pm sharp when your doorbell rang. You took in a deep breath, shaking the nerves away.

“It’s just dinner,” you mumble to yourself, opening the door.

To your relief Agatha isn’t super dressed up either. She’s wearing clothes that are nice, but casual. A round pair of glasses sit on her face, she looks cute in them.

“You look good,” she says taking in your attire.

“I could say the same to you,” you return the compliment.

“Shall we?”

You step out of your house and the two of you walk side by side to her car. She opens the door for you and you slide in the passenger seat. When she gets in the driver’s seat, she begins to speak.

“Before we go anywhere, I have to ask… are we above going to Chili’s?”

You laugh at her question, “What, are we too old for a triple dipper and $6 margaritas?”

“I don't think I’ll ever be too old for a $6 marg.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

There’s a comfortable silence that envelopes the two of you on the drive. You hum quietly along to the music playing on the radio. You notice Agatha tapping her finger to the beat against the steering wheel.

Your gaze hyper fixates on the details of her hand. There were pronounced veins running along the top, her fingers were slender, and her knuckles were rosy. Her nails seemed to be manicured, but no paint was placed over them.

When you arrive at Chili’s you are surprised to be seated quickly amongst the busy establishment. It was a Friday night leading into a three- day weekend so, the crowd was as large as they expected it to be. Both of you are quick to order a margarita before even looking at the menu.

“So, have you narrowed down any of the choices for the curriculum?”

Agatha seems uncertain as she speaks, “How do you feel about Salem?”

You raise your brow, “Massachusetts?”

Agatha rolls her eyes, but laughs, “Where else, professor?”

“First off, it’s Y/n. Secondly, I was just clarifying. I think Salem is a city filled with history,” you add.

“Is it college-level interesting though? Do you think the students will think it's childish?”

You shake your head, “I’m sure with your teaching style you could make SpongeBob seem like important government documents.”

She laughs, “Be honest, I know you hear students’ gossip, is my course really that much harder than yours?”

You shrug, “Everything is dramatic at their age, I’d have to take a page from your book and sit in on your lecture to see.”

Agatha smiles slyly, “You’re welcome to pop in at any time.”

“Did my lecture seem like a cake walk to you?”

“No, I have a feeling you just sound nicer than I do,” Agatha reveals.

You shake your head, “I think you’re nice.”

She rolls her eyes again, “I’m nice to you, but that’s different.”

You challenge her, “How so?”

The professor seems to fluster a bit, luckily she has a chance to regroup when the waitress comes to take your order. Once she walks away, Agatha thinks she had successfully dodged the question, but you don't let the topic go so suddenly.

“I’m waiting Professor Harkness.”

She scratches the back of her neck, “Well we are colleagues, so it’s a different type of dynamic.”

You hum, “Interesting, but you didn't say you're nice to all the professors, just to me. I don’t mean to assume, but I don’t know if I can say your reputation is only infamous with the student body. I’m pretty sure Professor Lewis is terrified of you.”

“What do you want me to say? You’re easy on the eyes sweetheart.”

You feel your face heat with her words. It’s now you that is sputtering for response, “I- uh-"

“Lucky, we teach history and not English,” Agatha teases you further.

Your mouth opens in shock, “You enjoy seeing me flustered like this?”

Agatha leans back in her seat, “I’m not going to say that I don’t enjoy seeing you flustered. I think it’s adorable.”

You scoff playfully, “So you asked me out just to see me flustered then? Because it seems like you had Salem in mind this whole time. Meaning you just wanted to have some one-on-one time with me, professor.”

Agatha begins to stumble over words like you had moments prior. Her cheeks taking on a light pink shade as you had caught her red handed.

“Would you have agreed otherwise?”

You see her looking at the table. You reach across placing your hand in hers. The movement causes her to meet your gaze. You smile at her sweetly.

“Agatha, I agreed anyway. I had a feeling you didn't need my help, considering you've been doing this longer than I have. I'm sure you could've asked Professor Vidal if you really needed a good opinion.”

“Rio is too annoying to ask. I still would've asked you, even if I wasn't drawn to you.”

You chuckle to yourself, “Drawn to me, huh? I felt your eyes on me the entire lecture. I wonder if you even heard anything I said.”

Agatha bites her lip, “What can I say? Your outfit was distracting professor.”

“Maybe next time we can do something about that,” you say to her suggestively.

“Something like what?”

Your food comes in the middle of the conversation. You pull your hand out of hers to grab a fry. You pop the fry into your mouth.

“Maybe take it off, if it’s such a distraction.”

Agatha's eyes darken, “Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart.”

You don't fold under her stare, “I don't make threats Agatha, just promises.”

“Do you want to get out of here?”

The question is all it takes for you to quickly pay and get to go boxes for your food. The anticipation only builds once you’re in the car. You can hardly keep yourself from losing control right there.

Agatha drives you to her place. You barely get through the door when she’s shoving your back against it. Her lips on yours. Your hands fall into the dips of her hips, while her’s rest on your face. You kiss her back with fervor. It’s clear to you that she wants to dominate you, but you don’t know if you want her to do that.

You pull away slightly out of breath, “Nice place, professor.”

“The bedroom is the best room in the house,” she returns equally out of breath.

“Show me.”

When you get to the bedroom it’s you pushing her against the wall. Your lips attach to her neck sucking harshly.

“Possessive much?” You can feel the vibration of her throaty chuckle against your lips.

You bite down on her exposed skin before soothing it with your tongue, “Is there someone else marking you up like this?”

Her breath hitches at the tone in your voice, “No.”

“Good, because you’re mine now and I don’t like sharing.”

In a swift motion her shirt is over her head and you’re kissing once again. The feeling of her bare skin against your hands only fuels the passion between you. She’s warm and her skin is soft.

Your hand trails down past the waistband of her pants straight for her cunt. She’s already soaked for you. You groan at the feeling of her wetness on your fingers.

“So ready for me baby.”

She whines for you, “Please, inside.”

“Patience professor, you can't have a body like this and expect me not to want to explore it a bit.”

You pull your hand from her underwear. You opt to kiss the top of her breasts while you unhook her bra. Her hands tangle in your hair. As soon as they’re free, your mouth latches on to one of her nipples.

You suckle them, swirling your tongue around the already stiff bud.

“Teeth baby, I like it a little rough.”

You comply, your teeth scraping the skin eagerly. Biting, marking, claiming her as your own. Her hands fall from your hair to climb up your shirt.

“I need to feel you,” she whispers.

You fumble with your shirt and pull it over your head. You see her eyes dilate as she has a full view of your abdomen. She meets your gaze as to ask for permission. Your response is taking your bra off. She takes a hand full of your breasts and you sigh in relief.

She massages them tenderly. At the same time she guides you to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and she straddles your waist. The way she touches you makes you warm on the insides; it’s addictive.

Your hips buck under her weight. She smiles slyly grinding down against your pants. The feeling is obscured by the fabric in-between and so you become desperate to remove it. You start with the button to her jeans. She stands to pull them off and you shimmy yours off while lying on the bed.

You groan at the sight of Agatha’s dripping core. She tries to climb back on to your waist but you use her arms to move her higher up your body. She doesn’t resist, resting her thighs on either side of your head.

Having a whiff of her arousal makes you lose your composure. You bury your face into her juicy pussy.

“Fuck,” she can’t help but rut against your ravenous tongue. “You look so hot under me, baby. God, I’d give you an A plus in eating me out.”

You grunt against her at the praise. Your arms hook over her thighs, keeping her in place.

“Don’t stop,” she roughly grabs your hair, biting her lip as she chases her high.

You take the new pace in stride. Your lips enclose her clit, sucking harshly, remembering her request to be rough. Your hot breath on her clit mixed with the intense sucking is almost enough to make her cum. It’s when your teeth gnaw experimentally at her clit that she comes undone.

From this angle you can see her pussy clenching around nothing. You can’t help yourself as you stick two fingers inside of her. Slowly you pump in and out of her, relishing in the feeling of her walls around your fingers.

“Can you give me another professor?”

“As many as you want, baby. Keep fucking me all night,” she cries out.

You begin pumping at a sharper tempo. You add a third finger and not long after, she’s cumming again.

Finally you move her back into your lap, sitting up to bombard her with your lips. She needed to taste how sweet she was. You only break the kiss to shove your fingers in her mouth.

She hums, bobbing her head up and down your fingers. The sight alone makes your cunt ache. You realize how soaked you are in that moment. Her mouth is almost just as tight and warm as her cunt.

When your fingers fall from her mouth, you gasp. You don’t have a clue as to when Agatha’s hand had neared your pooling heat, but it did. She pulls your panties to the side easily slipping a finger inside of you. Your head falls on her shoulder and she chuckles.

“All worked up from having my pussy in your mouth, sweetheart? My taste has you this wet.”

You nod against her, “All for you, professor. You taste so sweet.”

“And how do you taste sweetheart?”

She slips the finger was inside of you, into her mouth. Her eyes close at the taste, “Fuck, I need more of you.”

She lays you back with your legs hanging off of the edge of the bed. She kneels on the floor, spreading you further for her. Her finger slips back into you and her mouth begins to leave hot open kisses on your thighs. They pace up your thighs before lapping up the drool that spills out of your cunt as she fingers you.

Your hand reaches to caress her face, “I was looking at your fingers in the car. Long, sharp, dexterous, wondering if they would fill me up good, if they would wrap around my neck, and… fuck you feel so good inside of me Agatha.”

With her fingers still inside you she wraps her free hand around your neck, and comes off of the floor to kiss you. Your mouth vibrates against her’s, the pleasure from her fingers making it impossible for you to be quiet.

Agatha pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. She begins to use her thumb to toy with your clit, unwilling to break eye contact.

“Next time, I’ll let you fuck me with a strap. As fast and hard as you want. I’ll shut up and take it for however long you want, in whatever positions you want. How would you fuck me baby?”

You can feel yourself getting impossibly more wet with each one of her words. Her movements slow as you fail to answer.

You begin to squirm, mewling under her will, “Riding me, I-I want to see you bounce on my cock. Your hair to the side trying to steady yourself when I start fucking into you.”

She positions herself so she could grind against your thigh while fingering you.

“How else?”

You gulp involuntary as she moves her hair to one side of her face, “Standing with your face against the wall and my hand around your neck.”

You watch as Agatha fingers you and you feel yourself falling over the edge. She squeezes your throat a little and your eyes drift to her.

“One more baby, I need one more.”

You tense your thigh for her. You make sure your eyes are hard as you look for her, “ I want you on your knees, teary eyed as I fuck your face. I want to hear you gag on it, and fuck if I could I’d shoot my load down your throat. I’d pull you up from the floor and put you in mating press and pound your pussy. I don’t care how sloppy it would get. I want to cum inside you, fill you up. Fuck Agatha, if I could get you pregnant, I’d keep breeding you until we had enough to fill a lecture hall. I’d hold my cum hostage in your cunt, the only way it’d come out is if I decide to eat it out of you.”

You feel her movements stutter on your thigh as an ungodly moan spills from her mouth. The floodgates open and you feel her squirting all over your thigh. The sight of her squirting on you sent you over the edge. You come hard, arching your back off of her bed. Her arms pull your back fully off the bed, so your head is resting against her chest. Your arms are slightly stronger as the hold her up. Her chin rest on the top of your head. Both of you struggle to catch your breath.

“Can I tell you something?” You mumble against her skin.

“Hmm.”

You close your eyes, “I also want to fuck you in the lecture hall; between classes.”

She shivers in your hold, “You aren’t as innocent as you look.”

“You bring it out of me, professor” you lift your head to meet her with a delicate kiss.

“Are you hungry? I was thinking we could shower, heat the food, and maybe watch a movie,” she plays with your hair as she speaks.

You nod, “That sounds perfect."

You wait a few moments, expecting her to get up, “Uh Agatha.”

“I’ll let you know when I think my legs are ok to move,” she answers the question you didn’t even have to ask.

You laugh at her, unable to hold it in. She smacks your shoulder playfully, but it doesn’t stop you.

This wouldn’t be a one-time thing. There was no way that you were willingly to let the sparks between the two of you die here. You had a feeling that Agatha felt the same. There are many more dates to be had, many more nights to spend together, and many more mind-blowing orgasms to give each other.

Next part

[avelera]

Arcane's Jayce & Viktor: A Tech Industry Perspective

I've been wrestling with whether to make a short and sweet post about these points or to just have another long-winded meta and clearly since I'm incapable of being brief, I guess we'll just dive in.

I work in tech. What I see in this industry colors a lot of how I see Jayce and Viktor in Arcane. I'll try to be brief about a few of the things that stand out to me the most and that I think are intentional.

1 ) Jayce and Viktor are references to Alfred Nobel - This is a historical reference so direct I genuinely don't know how people grasp Jayce and Viktor's characters if you don't know about it.

Alfred Nobel is known for two things: inventing dynamite and bequeathing his subsequent fortune to founding the Nobel Peace Prize. These things are very much related.

Nobel was brilliant but socially naive. When he invented dynamite, he intended it to make life easier and safer for working in mines. Sound familiar? That is literally what the Atlas Gauntlets and Hex Claw Jayce and Viktor invented with Hextech was posed to be. It is a direct reference to Alfred Nobel and dynamite, there is no question about it in my mind whatsoever that they pose the benefit to society as specifically being useful to miners.

Nobel also believed that the awesome destructive power of dynamite would mean the end of warfare. Literally. He thought it was so disgusting and unthinkable that people would use explosives on each other that it would grind violence to a halt. He was very, very wrong about this. So wrong, in fact, that he spent the rest of his life in horror and remorse at how explosives were being used to kill people and created the Nobel Peace Prize to promote innovations aimed at peace, a prize which annually recognizes those who "conferred the greatest benefit to humankind".

Likewise with Jayce and Viktor, they are both horrified to imagine Hextech used for warfare and we think they're incredibly socially naive for thinking this, because they are. Maybe in another universe, there'd be the Talis Peace Prize to try to make up for what they unleashed on the world. Which brings me to my next point:

2 ) Jayce and Viktor have typical engineer blindspots to society's ills - As I've discussed in-depth in another meta, Jayce and Viktor both desperately needed some non-STEM or scientific classes in their life because their worldview is so naive and stunted as a result that it's the source of a dizzying number of their problems. Neither of them could even consider that Hextech, like dynamite, would be weaponized immediately. But they have other huge gaps too as a result of their narrow focus on science, and I do believe this is intentional by the writers as a commentary on engineers and tech people in general.

Short version, Jayce desperately needs some understanding of history and of rhetoric. When Ambessa asks him if his school teaches military history, he doesn't even know if they offer it. She was testing him with that question and as a canny manipulator and general, she clearly takes that to mean she can run circles around him, and she is right. Because with incredibly simplistic plays to his male ego, like calling his leadership "impotent", Ambessa immediately gets Jayce riled up and not thinking clearly. She blindfolds him, spins him around, and shoves him headlong into taking violent military action in exactly the direction she wanted him to go in to kick the nest and set off a war.

Jayce is also easily manipulated by Mel for more benevolent but still self-serving reasons with appeals to his life's work with flattery, his male ego with sex, and his dreams for a better world to make him fall quickly into step with the city's corruption with only a little nudging because he has no strong civic understanding of his own to fall back on. As Cait notes, he's never taken an interest in the Council or politics before until he becomes a Councilor himself.

Short version for Viktor, he wants to make the world a better place but he's never actually had to think through human nature before. He's literally never bothered. We know this because of his blindspot towards Hextech weaponry where he truly believed they could avoid it being used for warfare, and the fact that later in his cult, he's somehow shocked to learn that people will do bad things for the ones they love and won't just slice pieces of their own nature and personality off to fit into his little Utopian commune.

Literally cracking any kind of history or sociology book or heck, a Pratchett Discworld book, would have told him that there's a straight fucking line between deciding people are the problem when it comes to fixing society's ills and eugenics. He falls headlong into that trap and it requires his older, wiser self to beat him over the head with the truth of the horrors of his own simplistic worldview would lead to before he literally annihilates all life in his home city in his attempt to save it.

Which brings me to my next point:

3 ) Jayce and Viktor as oblivious tech nerds who have never cracked a book open but suddenly thinking that because they're great engineers, they have the solution to all of life's problems.

This is a somewhat shorter point, but I think in modern society we all know about the proverbial tech bro who keeps reinventing things like public transportation and taxes because they've never read a book in their life that doesn't have equations in it.

To be clear, they aren't bad people! I'd even hazard to say that young tech bros trying to make public good-based startups with a laughable lack of social awareness aren't bad people either! If anything, the education system has failed them, and they're pouring their intellect and earnest, human desire to help others into endeavors with the narrowest possible world perspective, which happens to be their field of expertise and thus it makes sense they'd see that as the greatest value that can offer, it's just too limited a view so they end up reinventing things that already exist or making worse, more dangerous versions of things that already exist. Tragically, their naive but well-meaning worldview often leads to:

4 ) Viktor and Jayce, but mostly Jayce, as tech bros being beholden to billionaire interests to make their dream come true:

Like Jayce, we see how these tech bros have their vision co-opted by people with a broader vision and understanding of the world, by billionaire investors who turn their inventions into making a quick buck for themselves, to warmongers and dictators who turn the creations of their mind into surveillance state horror stories. Some of that is a lack of wisdom on their parts when it comes to building in safeguards, sure, but part of that is there is a class divide too between the powerful and bright-eyed young inventors who just want to improve the world. As Singed notes, no one in power is ever innocent. And those in power have the capital to make a young inventor's dream come true and thus, tie them to their demands and interests. As Jayce said, they built the Hexgates, "Like [the Councilors] asked." Specifically this indicates that their vision has already been co-opted to serve financial interests. It also, again, makes it almost laughable how naive they are that they didn't realize warfare was next after trade.

Like many tech bros with billionaire investors, Jayce relied on the Kirammans, who were one of the wealthiest people in the city and literally on the Council that represents the State, and on Mel who is also part of the State, who is the wealthiest woman in Piltover, and who comes from a family of world-conquering warmongers, to make his dream come true from the very start.

From the beginning, Jayce was at a losing disadvantage when it came to keeping his dream ideologically pure and free of the influence of the wealthy and powerful.

And finally, just to point out that I'm not making this up, that these parallels are in fact intentional and built into the story:

4 ) Jayce and Viktor as parallels to Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, founders of Apple. Christian Linke, co-creator of Arcane, specifically noted them as inspirations for Jayce and Viktor's relationship, with Jayce (Jobs) as the face of the company and Viktor (Woz) as the real brains behind the invention.

This caused a lot of sturm and drang on Twitter with people misinterpreting that he means Jayce isn't the actual inventor of Hextech, which I think is an overreaction. Jobs, unlike many tech bros who have earned society's ire lately like Musk, was actually an engineer too. It's completely common in tech spaces for partnerships to be made up of one partner who is able to handle being the public face of the company, and one introverted and socially awkward genius who prefers to sit in a dark room and actually tinker with the problem and who would literally rather set themselves on fire than talk to a non-technical human being. I know because I've been in such partnerships before myself as the public face.

Where Jayce and Viktor rather charmingly buck the stereotypes of that relationship and so in turn actually make it more like what I've seen in the real world, is the fact there isn't resentment between the two as a result. Viktor is glad that Jayce is willing to be the public face and doesn't want to get in the way. This is actually very common with the engineers I know! It's not seen as glory stealing, it's seen as sparing them awful, painful work they don't want to do, like networking.

Yes it means Jayce needs to sacrifice some time in the lab, but it's a simple division of labor that he's happy to do, especially if it frees Viktor from the responsibility so he can focus on what he loves, because Jayce loves him. And you'll note that Jayce is very above-board academically speaking on this front, he always cites Viktor as his partner and is scrupulous in giving Viktor credit, in conversation at least, even if he doesn't forcibly drag Viktor on stage to take credit there.

Anyway, when I write meta or even fic for these two, this sort of background is always on my mind, and I thought it might be valuable for others who maybe aren't as familiar with the tech space as I am.

[gingerswagfreckles]

It's become extremely obvious over the past 15 months that the only reason much of the Western world ever basically agreed that the Holocaust was bad and was willing to teach about it is because for a brief period of time, Jews and gentiles in most of Europe + America had a common enemy in the Nazis. But this acknowledgement of Nazi antisemitism was only ever the same kind of acknowledgement of antisemitism that we get right now, where people are only willing to acknowledge the antisemitism of the people they already had a completely separate reason to dislike or fear. Antisemitism in this worldview is just a tool, a secondary accusation one can lodge at someone who is already for different reasons an enemy. It is never acknowledged as a form of bigotry in and of itself, that exists on its own and not as a follow up to another "more serious" form of oppression or bigotry against gentiles.

Obviously any Holocaust education we do get in Europe and the US has very much been the result efforts by Jews and our allies in a practical sense, but it is undeniable that there was a brief 70 or so year period where the white Western consciousness found it valuable (or at least politically convenient) to recognize antisemitism as wrong and the Holocaust as horrific. As true, original-brand Nazism fades, though, we see opposition to antisemitism and the Holocaust becoming less and less valuable to the white Western identity, as actual threat of Nazi occupation fades to historical memory. Newer, rebranded neo-Nazis and leftist Hamas supporters pose little to no threat to white Western gentiles. And thus, we see now not only a growing acceptance of antisemitism, but also a growing hostility towards the idea that we should study or condemn the Holocaust as anything particularly terrible. The Holocaust no longer represents a way for gentiles to additionally condemn an ideology that also threatened them, that also killed their families, that also resulted in their own countries and communities being occupied or destroyed by foreign fascist governments. It no longer represents to them an ideology that is in any way a threat to their own safety or way of life.

This is why we see such a massive rise in Holocaust denial among Gen Z, and, even more broadly than overt Holocaust denial, the rejection of the idea that the Holocaust should be particularly studied or condemned. More and more, we see people "questioning" the "propaganda" of The Jews Crying Victim All The Time, we see young people wondering why they are so cruelly forced to acknowledge on very rare occasion the suffering that the Jewish people went through in their own homes and towns. Often this is framed not only as intellectual bravery but moral bravery, as if this new generation rejecting Holocaust education is somehow fighting back against the unfair valuing of Jewish tragedy above gentile tragedy. What they don't understand, of course, and what many Jews up until now didn't understand either, is that no one ever valued the Holocaust because it WAS a uniquely horrific event in history, because it WAS the first and only industrialized genocide that gassed millions to death on a scale we can only pray the world will never see again, because it WAS only 70 years ago and is still a living part of the history of many Western countries. No. The Holocaust was only ever given the acknowledgement it was because it represented, at one time, an ideological threat that also included gentiles, though less overtly than it targeted Jews.

That ideological threat against Jews has not gone anywhere, and is in fact is seeing a new glory day dawning with the rise of fascism worldwide and the normalization/glorification of antisemitism on the left. But this new form of antisemitic hatred, be it neo-Nazism or support for Hamas, does not represent a threat to white Western gentiles, their way of life, or the integrity of their governments. And so we as we see the decoupling of the Holocaust from something that also incidentally threatens gentiles, we see standing against the Holocaust and antisemitism as a symbol of white Western identity disappearing as fast as it came.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part VI

Teach me how to get my smile back - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, HAN feat. BAE

You keep a lot of secrets (and I keep none) - Fireproof, The National

Too much darkness for a rainbow - Gone, Rosé

I always say goodbye - World spins madly on, The Weepies

We can set the world on fire - You are the solution, Loving Caliber

Drop a single tear drop - Tomboy, (G)I-DLE

I still dream of you - Ghost towns, Radical Face

Love is not a competition - Collide, Rachel Platten

Demons are friends, angels are enemies - @ my worst, blackbear

We're such a mess together - Using you, Mars Argo

I've found a love to love like no other can - Nara, alt-J

All for freedom and for pleasure - Everybody wants to rule the world, Tears for Fears

Why you asking? (No, I'm not ok) - Not ok, Loco feat. Minnie

In the fantasy it's so convincing - Dirty thoughts, Chloe Adams

The only memory is us kissing in the moonlight - Can't remember to forget you, Shakira feat. Rihanna

Searching for something that ain't lost - Don't waste my time, Victor Lundberg

A little more delicate - Clementine, Sarah Jaffe

Tonight we are victorious - Victorious, Panic! at the Disco

I want you so much, but I hate your guts - Landfill, Daughter

Your idols betray you/Your heroes will fail you/′Cause we are no saints - We are no saints, Blind Channel

Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that? - Heartbeat, Childish Gambino

'Cause sometimes the wrong ones are just what you need - James has changed, Phoebe Ryan

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone - Lovely, Billie Eilish & Khalid

Chasing visions of our futures - Youth, Daughter

Why is love so contradicting? - Contradicting, Hyunjin

I wanna be found by you - Adore, Amy Shark

Somebody might die (but nobody gets hurt) - Honey, Måneskin

The history books forgot about us - Samson, Regina Spektor

I like us better when we're intertwined - Cool, Dua Lipa

Baby don't go away (love me like you loved me) - Miserable (You & Me), HAN

More titles!

[niibaataa]

Some Indigenous Poets to Read

Disclaimer: Some of these poems deal with pregnancy, colonialism, substance abuse, murder, death, and historical wrongs. Exercise caution.

Tacey M. Atsitty [Diné] : Anasazi, Lady Birds' Evening Meetings, Things to Do With a Monster.

Billy-Ray Belcourt [Cree] : NDN Homopoetics, If Our Bodies Could Rust, We Would Be Falling Apart, Love is a Moontime Teaching.

CooXooEii Black [Arapaho] : On Mindfulness, Some Notes on Vision, With Scraps We Made Sacred Food.

Trevino L. Brings Plenty [Lakota] : Unpack Poetic, Will, Massacre Song Foundation.

Julian Talamantez Brolaski [Apache] : Nobaude, murder on the gowanus, What To Say Upon Being Asked To Be Friends.

Gladys Cardiff [Cherokee] : Combing, Prayer to Fix The Affections, To Frighten a Storm.

Freddy Chicangana [Yanacuna] : Of Rivers, Footprints, We Still Have Life on This Earth.

Laura Da' [Shawnee] : Bead Workers, The Meadow Views: Sword and Symbolic History, A Mighty Pulverizing Machine.

Natalie Diaz [Mojave] : It Was The Animals, My Brother My Wound, The Facts of Art.

Heid E. Erdrich [Anishinaabe] : De'an, Elemental Conception, Ghost Prisoner.

Jennifer Elise Foerster [Mvskoke] : From "Coosa", Leaving Tulsa, The Other Side.

Eric Gansworth [Onondaga] : Bee, Eel, A Half-Life of Cardio-Pulmonary Function.

Joy Harjo [Muscogee] : An American Sunrise, Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, A Map to The Next World.

Gordon Henry Jr. [Anishinaabe] : How Soon, On the Verve of Verbs, It Was Snowing on The Monuments.

Sy Hoahwah [Comanche/Arapaho] : Colors of The Comanche Nation Flag, Definitive Bright Morning, Typhoni.

LeAnne Howe [Choctaw] : A Duck's Tune, 1918, Iva Describes Her Deathbed.

Hugo Jamioy [Kamentsá] : PUNCTUAL, If You Don't Eat Anything, The Story of My People.

Layli Long Soldier [Lakota] : 38, WHEREAS, Obligations 2.

Janet McAdams [Muscogee] : Flood, The Hands of The Taino, Hunters, Gatherers.

Brandy Nālani McDougall [Kānaka Maoli] : He Mele Aloha no ka Niu, On Finding my Father's First Essay, The Island on Which I Love You.

dg nanouk okpik [Inupiaq-Inuit] : Cell Block on Chena River, Found, If Oil Is Drilled In Bristol Bay.

Simon J. Ortiz [Acoma Pueblo] : Becoming Human, Blind Curse, Busted Boy.

Sara Marie Ortiz [Acoma Pueblo] : Iyáani (Spirit, Breath, Life), Language (part of a compilation), Rush.

Alan Pelaez Lopez [Zapotec] : the afterlife of illegality, A Daily Prayer, Zapotec Crossers.

Tommy Pico [Kumeyaay] : From "Feed", from Junk, You Can't be an NDN Person in Today's World.

Craig Santos Perez [Chamorro] : (First Trimester), from Lisiensan Ga'lago, from "understory".

Cedar Sigo [Suquamish] : Cold Valley, Expensive Magic, Secrets of The Inner Mind.

M. L. Smoker [Assiniboine/Sioux] : Crosscurrent, Heart Butte, Montana, Another Attempt at Rescue.

Laura Tohe [Diné] : For Kathryn, Female Rain, Returning.

Gwen Nell Westerman [Cherokee/Dakota] : Dakota Homecoming, Covalent Bonds, Undivided Interest.

Karenne Wood [Monacan] : Apologies, Abracadabra, an Abecedarian, Chief Totopotamoi, 1654.

Lightning Round! Writers with poetry available on their sites:

Shonda Buchanan [Coharie, Cherokee, Choctaw].

Leonel Lienlaf [Mapuche].

Asani Charles [Choctaw/Chickasaw].

[libraford]

Misty Copeland, my beloved.

I can't even say that 'appreciation' is the word, at least in the case of bellydance. It's just what happens when a culture touches another. Because 'bellydance' itself is a very broad term that encompasses a variety of dance styles that may have no verifiable country of origin.

Correct me of I'm wrong, of course!

Under a cut because apparently I'm infodumping on dance history.

The best we have as an origin people are the Ghawazee, and today's style looks very little like their practice (which is still taught by it's sole remaining member). But the people traveled before settling in Egypt, so a clear origin is difficult to pinpoint. And you do hear claims that bellydance is Egyptian, and while it's not untrue, it's not the entire story- Ghawazee spent some time in Egypt and the style stuck around to have a stylistic exchange. And a lot of the old Hollywood depictions of bellydance are something between this cultural fusion and awalim. All of these styles, and so many more of that region, informed each other and inspired each other as trade routes between countries became more common, and the Ottoman Empire brought it northward as far as modern day Austria.

And the dance style has been criticized pretty much everywhere it goes. Like our earliest footage of the dance was as a Victorian sideshow that was considered by the primarily white male audience to be vulgar. But as Egyptian film made this style more easily accessed, fondness for it grew, and we enter Golden Age of Bellydance- which was not always not the most culturally sensitive depiction, but it gave a lot of dancers a chance to show their skills to a wider audience- and now women want to learn it too! Teachers pop up everywhere, even though it's still considered a little risque in many cultures.

Bellydance was being seen all over the world because of cinema, even if inaccurate so. And there was a fascination with Egypt that made it the center of attention for a lot of film. There were tons of middle eastern dance clubs, though they were, again, kind of a fantasy version of it.

And then it got hairy.

Iranian Revolution in 1979 put a lot of restrictions on dance. If you were a dance teacher affected by this, your choices were either stop dancing or immigrate to a country where you'd be allowed to teach. So you see a huge boom in the 80s of Egyptian Cabaret styles taking root in the US because the interest in Egyptian culture made it easy to set up shop.

So most of what you're seeing today in modern stage styles is either second or third generation of Egyptian Cabaret style through several layers of translation, which in itself is deep in layers of translation, applied to the melting pot of America and then to the exposure of film, TV, music video, YouTube, Instagram, and then finally TikTok.

And that's fucking fascinating! The cultural exchange that had to happen for us to get that half-beat Turkish drop is high key cool af, just to think about all of the steps we had to go through to get here. It is an ever-evolving discipline of dance, and the fact that Shining Protector is still teaching the old ways of her people to keep traditions alive is AMAZING!

We should want this. And I don't know how to explain to people that sometimes the watered-down white people spicy version is the gateway drug to taking an active interest in a different culture.

When one culture comes in contact with another and the peoples share the things that enrich their lives, that is cultural exchange. But I think it's hard for some people to see any interaction with a white culture as neutral-positive. And it's somewhat difficult to explain the difference.

[tossawary]

I wish we saw more casual diversity among Vulcans in regards to... well, everything: fashion, art, history, geography, language, religion and philosophy, occupations, familial units, and logical styles and emotional management, and so on. The monoculture that "Star Trek" tends towards is both unrealistic and kind of boring.

(I think that my ideal "Star Trek" show would have a minimum of two matching non-humans in the main crew who are from opposite sides of their planet; these two alien coworkers have almost NOTHING in common. It immediately creates compelling character dynamics.)

Anyway, even within the specific Surakian Logic sect that Spock and his family seem to belong to, there's still opportunity for fun, divisive hobbies among this particular group of Vulcans. We can have judgey Vulcans looking at other Vulcans' weird, harmless antics and saying, "What illogical behavior," while the other Vulcans are judging them back for being illogical in their own opinion. Let Vulcans be REAL nerds: I think that pre-Surak historical reenactment is not an uncommon hobby, both casual LARPing and hardcore reenactment.

It's educational to spin and weave and sew your own pre-Surakian garments! It's educational to forge your own weaponry! It's grounding, like meditation! It is humbling to truly realize the complicated labor involved in fabrication. Even when they were surrendering to their emotional urges, you know, Vulcan ancestors were not completely illogical: they knew how to fashion a comfortable garment well-suited to the desert. Camping in the wilderness and foraging for food connects oneself to nature, teaches about history, and settles oneself in the present.

Also, it's good physical exercise and emotionally cathartic to beat the shit out of each other with foam-wrapped lirpa, screaming at the top of your lungs. It's very logical. There's a medical team on standby, reading on their pads and drinking tea.

You beam down in the wrong part of the desert at the right time and find a bunch of scantily-clad Vulcan warriors (outfits depend on the chosen time period and location) (of all genders) shrieking and rolling in the dirt, until a timer goes off, and then the scheduled mock-battle is over and everyone helps each other up. (Depends how hardcore the group is, of course.) (Also, yeah, obviously, some of these groups have a hook-up culture attached / embedded.) Two bleeding guys who were previously punching each other in the face salute each other and part ways, one to go write a new archeological paper based on his findings here ("Fascinating") and the other to his low-level government desk job ("Most invigorating exercise").

If this happens anywhere near where people live, then the neighbors are shaking their heads and saying to each other, "I don't know how anyone could come to their conclusions and call it logical. Their foundational premises must be flawed." 😐 Some of them while closely watching the entire scandalous affair through binoculars and telescopes, of course. 🤔

[a-very-tired-jew]

You're not as informed as you think, and age does play a factor.

This is going to ruffle some feathers, but it needs to be said. You're not as informed on the I/P Conflict and the history of the region as you think, and age plays a major factor. Hell, you're not as informed on a lot of topics as you think. I want you to think about what you were doing 5 years ago. Were you still running around on the playground? Were you making dioramas for a science class? Were you in high school worried about being a first year? Were you just starting to pick out colleges or deciding to even go? Did you ever call a teacher by their first name? Now, there is a line that we hear thrown about that people don't fully mature till they're 25. While this is bupkis and misrepresents the research, it is true that the brain does not stop developing till sometime in the mid to late 20s. In fact, the brains of undergraduates age 18-22 and their respective thought patterns more closely resemble high schoolers than they do mid 20s and above. So what does this mean in the course of the I/P conflict? For one thing, this is your first incident. Your first I/P war. Those of us in our 30s and above have seen a good number of them at this point. I even remember when the use of child suicide bombers became a standard method for Hamas and other terrorist groups during the Second Intifada. As such, many of us are used to the manipulation that we see in this particular region. We're used to seeing antisemitism be dismissed and well intentioned people be manipulated. Many of us are just tired because you're going through the same shit we did at your age and we look back and go "oh, we were severely misinformed". Because this is your first, you're super passionate about it, but that passion can be manipulated. Second, you're not as smart or well informed as you think you are. This has to do with the age and maturation thing mentioned above. While 25 is an arbitrary number, there are some milestones that happen by then. By 25 you have had enough life experience to really start piecing together your education, your life experiences, your world experiences, and your respective beliefs into a coherent way of approaching topics. Hopefully by that age you're less likely to have the emotional outburst in response to a subject (think about the stereotypical slamming the door teenager behavior, many of us did that and we cringe thinking about it) and more likely to approach something in a levelheaded and informed manner. Unfortunately there is some research that shows evidence that Gen Z and Millenials are susceptible to propaganda and misinformation, with the former exhibiting behavior akin to Boomers. So keep that in mind that none of us are safe for misinformation, but some generations are worse than others. Now, who am I to say this to you? Some of you are quite mad right at the moment. Some of you have strived to be seen as well informed young adults or to be taken seriously, and in some cases you are. However...

I'm in my 30s and I have been teaching at the college level for a decade and some change now. By no means am I an expert, but I have enough experience to say something. The ages I teach are 18+, meaning I've had students that are typical fresh high school grads and students that are in their 50s. Myself and my colleagues have heard repeatedly from students the "I'm an adult, I know what I'm doing" line to only watch that 18-22 y.o. student fail miserably or come crying to us later. I have personally watched students go through the stages of grief as they realized in my classes that their pet science activism is not what they thought, but they've wrapped so much of their identity around it. You're still learning, and thinking you know more just because you read something online is an issue. You're also still growing and developing as a person. Recognize that you can be manipulated. Recognize that you can be wrong. Recognize your own inherent biases. Then do better.

[communistkenobi]

I’m watching FD Signifier’s new video about edgelord white guy movies. He spends a decent amount of time talking about how creators have responded to their edgelord fanbases, using The Joker and The Boys as two examples, where these creators feel uncomfortable with how their art has been received and taken up by “angry white men,” and that in response to this, they have followed up these artistic products with sequels or new seasons of television that are incredibly blunt and obvious about how you shouldn’t think of Homelander as a based chad or Arthur Fleck as a motivational figure in your life. And like he ends the video saying this is insufficient because these audiences won’t care about the messages in these follow-ups (largely bc these are downstream of larger social issues), but his framing of it in terms of “the death of media literacy” is still really frustrating and annoying because it’s buying into the idea that the main problem with people “not getting” art is literacy/education. And its not just his video, this framing is a popular memetic phrase across social media, and he does a better job than most people in talking about it

But like I just straight up do not accept that the audience of these edgelord movies “didn’t get” that they are portraying bad people, that audiences of mass media are “taking the wrong message” of “very obvious” pieces of art. Not because I think they do secretly get what these films are ‘actually saying,’ I don’t care about what’s in their hearts, but because this concern with people ‘not getting it’ feels wildly off-topic. I think it has been demonstrated over and over again that mass media is not an educational tool where people go to “learn lessons” or “take away a particular message.” I think the very fact that we have a consumptive marketised relationship to these artistic products structures and produces a specific set of responses, which is, above all else, “getting my money’s worth.” Who gives a shit what the movie is ‘really’ trying to say! That’s unimportant when faced with the question of did I get what I paid for? And I don’t mean this in an annoying lib “consumerism is making us all stupider” way I mean the economic structure of artistic production is the primary determinant of how commodities on a market are received. The idea that, under these conditions, we can purchase a piece of art that will “teach us” something about the world is laughable, that art-by-itself contains the authority to impart political knowledge. The idea that we can purchase our way into good values, good politics, that we can buy a movie ticket and see the error of our ways is buying into this same exact consumptive framing.

“The death of media literacy” implies a point in recent history where this economic relationship to art was unimportant, that we used to be able to participate in mass standardised artistic production and be unaffected by this arrangement. I think about Adorno & Horkheimer’s argument in The Culture Industry, that the profit motive is itself an object of consumption under capitalism, that advertisements are themselves products & as a result, all mass standardised artistic products are advertisements for their own capitalist production processes and logics. 

I think when people “don’t get” that Starship Troopers is depicting a fascist society, when people “don’t get” that Travis Bickle is a bad, un-admirable person, they aren’t stricken by a sudden deficit of education or literacy, they are responding to the conditions under which these things get made. Being able to get art’s “true message,” no matter how supposedly clear or compellingly-articulated, is to argue that ‘message’ and ‘meaning’ can be made independent of the conditions under which those things are created and presented to people. The industrial capitalist machinery outputting standardised artistic products is itself an authority telling you how to interpret its own products, much the same way a cathedral is presented as evidence of god. There is a material & physical authority in their presence and social arrangement that are themselves arguments. Adorno talks about this with the radio - that this vast industrial infrastructure of radio towers, broadcast stations, systems of wires and cables, and the production of standardised radio receivers (available for purchase, of course) is utterly incomprehensible to most people and amounts to hearing the voice of god when you turn on the radio. The arrangement of artistic production & presentation is itself the structure through which you experience art, and that structure is an authority you can neither comprehend nor alter. And again as A&H say in The Culture Industry, the techniques, narratives, and genres of the culture industry become standardised themselves, cookie-cutters on a production line, and therefore dictate meaning above and beyond any particular semantic meaning injected into an individual film or story. “Romcoms” are a cultural authority above and beyond the sum total of every romcom film ever made, and it is these genres and techniques that transmit the justification for their own continued reproduction. Under this arrangement, the meaning of this film or that television show are rendered marginal - not unnoticeable or irrelevant, certainly, but secondary to the cookie-cutters they were produced from 

Now does this lead to a widespread ignorant, impoverished, reactionary view of art? Of course, but that is not because the guy who likes wearing V for Vendetta masks is illiterate. To place the blame on individual education, discipline, or literacy is to take Hollywood for granted as a natural eternal entity, to take it as just another church. It’s a goofy fucking argument! 

[lwyikas]

When you know,you know ft Suna Rintarou

when your friend ask how you can know a person is “right one for you”

“He is not reading my messages for 5 hours and then i’m the one who not shows enough interest!” Even if the situation is not funny against your friend’s rebellion you laugh quietly.

”Don’t you think its time for dump him already?” She groaned and puts her head to table”But i don’t want to,you can not understand me”

“Hey i was just trying to help!”Then you feel muscular arms around your neck from behind and a kiss comes to your cheek.You turn your head little and see your Rintarou.

“hey beautiful”he sits next to you and he throws his arm on your shoulder.Then he look at your friend who look at you two with hopeless eyes.

”you two give me nausea”

He rolls his eyes and smiles”It’s not our fault that you always choose wrong boys,another failed situationship huh?”While she gives death stares to him, you smack his arm with angry look.He coughs and tries hold his smile”I mean at least i should thank those boys they teach me what I shouldn’t do in a relationship”

You smile too but not because of his comments.He plays your hairtips,he bends over and rubs his nose on your hair.Two years and still this boy makes you nervous as hell,same goes for him too.

“How you can know someone is right person?”You both end “adoring each other activity “ look at other and blinks and thinking her question.

“What you mean?”You ask when you try not to let the hand in your waist break your focus

“When i got crush every time i think they’re right one and then ends up i’m a idiot”She tells while looking at you two.”If Suna wiseacre that much ,he can explain, right?”

“Eee-Alright then”Rintarou look at you, thinks.

When did he know?

Was it the first time he saw you?Hell no. It wasn’t love at first sight. Your first conversation was when you poured hot coffee on him in lunch. we can’t say that he has absolutely positive feelings for you that time (but he’s still grateful for that accident for meeting you)or maybe It was when you helped him in most kind way, you was running around for a napkin, when you tried to dry his clothes by shaking book even though he told you it’s okay, maybe he wasn’t in love, but he thought it was quite funny.He still reminds you that day and annoys you

Maybe it was when he sees you play with cats in school way(You were almost always scolded for being late class)or when teacher changed seats and made you sit next to him instead your friends(it was because you talk too much but how could teacher know she will make quiet boy her lover?).

He was not a person who read a lot of books, he usually does his homework last day, he would put his head and sleep when he couldn’t stand history(he hates Geography too). There were times when he didn’t sleep, and these times those green eyes would always be on you.He can’t say that he fell in love the moment he saw you, but as he got to know you, he always wanted to see you and talk to you.

He did take things really slow.According to him,It’s like a building; if the building blocks are solid, it will be very difficult to be demolished..(Also he has zero skills and he didn’t know how to ask for a date but with the advice of his mother and osamu ,how good they are is debatable, he managed to handle the situation.)

In fact, he had many core memories with you, first date, first hug, first kiss and many more things that make up building blocks of his love for you. As an inexperienced young boy, because you are every first ,he was afraid to do something wrong, but you were always by his side. It was not something that happened with time or suddenly to notice his love for you. He may not social butterfly and not best at communication, but it doesn’t make sense to doubt this handsome asshole is right person because he is always looking at you with loving eyes.

He turned to you from little chaos in his mind with your hand swaying in front of his eyes.”Rin you here?”You were both waiting for his answer. Oh what was question?

He could talk about you for hours, but he doesn’t like to prolong the talk so after leaving a kiss on your hair,he turns to her:

“when you know,you know”

[botanyshitposts]

Hey! I'm not a botanist, but I'm in circles where it's a bigger thing and I'm kind of curious about something.

So, from an outsider's perspective, the genus Garcinia has a lot of weird and messy classifications. For example, common species like G. intermedia and G. gardneriana are really similar to Garcinia brasiliensis, to the point that it's pretty controversial if they're actually separate species. The Garcinia species colloquially known as "achachairú" also appears to bear a lot of similarities to that trio (although much less than they share with each other), HOWEVER it's almost exclusively referred to (in cultivation and in studies) as G. humilis, a Carribean species with small oval-shaped leaves, despite actually having very long lanceolate leaves and being exclusively found in the Andean foothills of Bolivia. Also, multiple frequently cultivated species like Luc's garcinia and Russell's sweet garcinia haven't actually been described yet, despite for example the former having a decent amount of scientific interest and frequent genetic testing done on it.

All of these odd classification things and even more others have been pretty well known in my circles for the past 15 years-ish, but still nobody seems anywhere close to a conclusion for them. How long does it usually take for a genus to get organized when it has as many species as Garcinia does? And how do they do it? Do they go around testing every single species or only a few at a time? If a species is currently not named, do the same people usually describe them as part this endeavor, or just leave them for somebody else? I saw Plinia and Artocarpus recently got reshuffled a lot because of some prominent genetic studies on them, and several new species and even genera were added, but it just seems alien to me how stuff like that even ends up happening. There are so many plants out there!

Sorry if I'm asking the wrong person here, but I've been wondering about how this stuff will eventually be resolved for yeeeearrs

There are so many plants out there!

ok im kind of surprised i can offer a few possible answers to this question despite having never heard of this but i think i can. if the question is 'why aren't some plants actually described', this is the primary reason why.

when i was in plant anatomy class in college, the person teaching us was a plant anatomist who assigned us different plants from the greenhouse to dissect and describe in a paper for her, and she told us that we might find something that hadn't been described before, which was pretty shocking to me. what do you mean i could potentially find a new-to-science thing? has nobody in history looked at this plant that's just growing in the greenhouse upstairs??

what she said was that no, sometimes not. there are so many plants out there that it's difficult to do one exact in-depth description and published examination of each species, so what botanists end up doing is doing or finding one in-depth examination of one species in a specific group and assuming that all the others in the group are at least similar, if not the same. which is good because it saves time and works as a shorthand, especially if there's not much funding, but also sometimes it has the potential to overlook more nuanced differences that can go undiscovered for a long time. but that's just botanical species in the conventional sense, which i don't think is as straightforward in what you're describing.

another answer to this question that's more specific to the species you're talking about here is that plants are having sex. they have so so so soooo much sex. few things they enjoy more to be honest. and given that the most conventional (but not only) definition for different species is 'can't have sex with other species because it's too different from them', the lines get blurrier to deal with, and one thing botanists do when the lines between species get too blurry (because of all the sex) is to just assume that they're all part of some kind of hard-to-describe genetic soup with individual plants falling along gradients or spectrums of similarities or differences, and in this case you'll see botanists just name the most prominent species among them and call it the '[most common suspect] complex', which groups together all the ones that happen to be having sex with each other at the same time, just to make them easier to talk about. this typically doesn't mean that they're species-less, but more that they can be thought of as a group with a few distinct points where they can look very distinct, and those points are the species, if that makes sense; see the citrus sex graph at the end for an example.

i also see from a cursory google search that people seem to be planting and eating these in a more widespread way, and people are talking about them on forums and stuff. this is one of the cases in botany where things get tricky, because a person looking for traits in a fruit that's having tons of sex might not actually be looking for the same things botanists are looking for when describing a species-- it might seem easiest to just find which species or few species are the tastiest and grow those, but if it's a genetic soup then all you can really do is do it the old fashioned way and breed individual plants for the traits you want. which, who knows, could end up being a hybrid between all of them.

case in point: again i am not completely up to date with the lore here but i found a forum thread where people were debating which species to plant and the consensus was just to plant multiple species at once, which is fine but is also really funny given that it DOES facilitate even more sex, thus blurring the lines even further and-- if the posters decide to plant the resulting seeds from the fruits-- will create even MORE hybrid plants of no discernible concrete species in the plant soup. the hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid or whatnot. when does one stop calling it a hybrid between two species and start calling it 'the tree in grandma's backyard that's the tastiest of the berries i've tried'? that is the question, truly, one humanity has had for millennia in the search for the tastiest berry, and at that point it might just be easier to call it a variety or cultivar, which are horticultural terms for just that-- a distinct 'kind' among the same species that taste good subjectively and can be reliably rebred and harvested, like all the apple varieties people debate about.

another reason is that plant phylogenies are hard and brain-twisting and plant taxonomists and systemisists are among our strongest warriors. it's not uncommon at all in botany to be researching something and to find out it's been reshuffled because of a new breakthrough on the case a bunch of people more qualified on the subject decided made more sense like a decades later. sometimes species themselves will even change names multiple times if it turns out that it was described earlier by someone else considering the new circumstances. if you're a really unlucky or just controversial plant all this can happen over and over again until, finally, the trees of math have been resolved in a way that makes sense. how long will it take? surely there is a concrete end to the madness? nah. lol

finally, if you're looking into studies on this, you should know that some phylogeny stuff is opinion-based or subjective, especially at first. what counts as a new group for one group of researchers might not count as one for another. so when you see stuff where people are inventing new categorizations or genuses or whatnot or merging multiple ones together spontaneously, it'll depend on how well supported their reasoning is and what the evidence seems to show, and the larger community of plant taxonomists will, overtime, decide what they want to do with that information-- which may include verifying it or refuting it with more evidence. what researchers are proposing when they split stuff off or merge it together is a new or updated model for thinking about existing information, and that model may be more or less useful than the existing one for the means of actually learning more about the plants.

anyway in short there are lots of reasons why this might not be sorted out and the more sex these plants have the longer it's gonna take. i'm strongly reminded of that one citrus sex graph (its this one) (screenshotted to see it on night mode):