#children should not have to raise children

[littlegreenfag-archive]

Regarding @littlegreenfag

Tldr: Adina, known by the Tumblr urls littlegreenfag and prksoda, has spent the past several years lying about many facets of their life. The list of lies includes, but is not limited to, being half manouche Romani, being Jewish, and being descended from Holocaust survivors.

I never wanted to have to do this. I’ve spent months trying my best to encourage Adina to come clean themself. My methods were not ideal. I should not have used anonymous messages. I used to be friends with them, I should've talked to them openly as their friend. I also should’ve attempted to be less aggressive at times, even though I think it is incredibly reasonable to have felt the way I felt when I was sending some of those messages. I understand and regret both of these things. Unfortunately, since Adina has deactivated @littlegreenfag, I cannot provide links or screenshots to every ask of mine that they responded to, only those I saved at the time. I will do this later, upon request. This post is already going to be enough of a monster without them.

Though the last day has been a complete nightmare, I am satisfied with one thing: Adina came clean about everything, even if not publicly. My worry was always with the though of having to reveal their personal information, as many of the things they’ve lied about would require me to, functionally, dox them. Though it's technically all public, I would much rather that no one who doesn't already have access to this information gain it.

So, why am I writing this post? For those of you who were on Adina’s blog last night, you may have seen this post. I was also able to save a capture of their blog on the Internet Archive. Here is a screenshot that I took around when the post was first published. Apologies for the formatting.

To summarize, Adina begins to by admitting to a small lie, that they were born in Chicago, before admitting that they had been lying about their race. Though it was not present at the time of the blog's deletion, I would like to note that Adina had the phrase "jewish and half-romani" in their blog's bio for a very long time. This phrase was quietly removed after I sent the first anon message telling them that I was aware of their lies, on March 16th 2024. This can be seen on the Wayback Machine, by looking at the capture taken on March 5th, 2024, in comparison to the capture taken on March 24th, 2024.

That is what you may have seen. However, it is not the only major lie Adina has told. After suggesting Adina should turn off anons, I sent them another ask with my blog name visible, telling them that I could tell everyone about the other lies for them, if they wished to log off and be done with it. They messaged me privately, and this is the resulting conversation.

I apologize for the block of images, but I figured it was necessary to include the entire conversation. Here, Adina openly admits to not being Jewish. Adina has spent months receiving social benefits for claiming to be Jewish, and they've even used this claim to support arguments. Truth be told, Adina has one Jewish great-grandfather. How Adina expected me to believe they would know about this without knowing his surname, I will never know. However, I should emphasize that Adina is not Jewish by the standards of any main movement of Judaism. Orthodox and Conservative look for an unbroken line of Jewish women, while Reform asks that you be raised Jewish by a Jewish parent. Adina is descended from a Jewish man who converted to Catholicism and raised his children Catholic.

Regarding the Holocaust claim, I understand hat Adina did not directly address this. I will say that I find it suspicious that they deactivated as soon as I mentioned it, but they technically never confirmed it was a lie. However, with the information that:

The ancestors they mention as being survivors or victims quite literally do not exist and

Their Jewish ancestor was born in the United States well before WWII

I believe it is quite safe to say this was also a lie. My screenshots of their claims come mostly from their Reddit account, which is now deleted.

It is absolutely ghoulish to me to create fake relatives so that you can pretend they were tortured and killed during the Holocaust. All to receive sympathy.

Though there are many, many other lies Adina has peddled, such as being a child of divorce and having a dead biological mother, I don't think any of them matter much in the grand scheme of things when these are the other lies that have been told.

It is also worth noting that this is a pattern of behavior from Adina. As some of you who followed them may know, back in 2019, a blog was created with the intent of calling them out for lies. Frankly, this blog, @prksodalies , is what put me on to Adina's trail in the first place. Though I believe that several of the things Adina was accused of on this blog are downright cruel to accuse someone of without evidence, the fact that there were so many smaller obvious lies made me very uneasy. What specifically made me curious was the post, here, where Adina claims that they are half Lebanese. Obviously, this did not make a ton of sense with the half Roma and half Ashkenazi Jewish Adina we all knew. As it turns out, this was one of the very few shreds of truth from Adina. They're a quarter Lebanese on their father's side, and other than that and a Jewish great-grandfather, are of mostly Polish and German descent.

This being a pattern of behavior, alongside the way Adina behaved in messages with me, tells me that this will likely unfortunately not be the last time this person creates a Tumblr blog with a fabricated life story. I feel immense guilt at the thought that they may continue to swindle and hurt people, and that I will never know or be able to help again.

To everyone who was friends with this person and has been hurt by their actions, I am truly, truly sorry. This has been an absolutely miserable experience for me and I can't imagine it's much different for any of you. If you have questions, I'll be available for a least a few hours. I do not want to share any of their personal information, but I will share what I need to (privately) if some of you need or want more information.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I’d love to hear your take on the rumour that Meghan wanted to sue for/believed the Duchy of Cornwall should be split 50/50 between the brothers and whether you believe there was any truth in it?

Initially I thought no one is this delulu but now I am not so sure…

So one of the things I’ve learned in tracking/following BRF rumors is that most of them have some truth to them. To me, that’s what makes this fun; digging as deep as I can to find out what that little modicum of truth is that makes it seem plausible.

I don’t know that the rumor Meghan wanted to sue for 50% of the Duchy of Cornwall is legit. For one, no lawyer (in their right mind) would take that case because it’s pretty settled in the law how succession and inheritance works. But never say never, right, because there’s always an ambulance chaser sniffing around. (That’s why Shakespeare said we need to kill all the lawyers first.)

But there are three things I see as being behind her (and Harry’s) belief that the Sussexes would get a cut of the Cornwall money.

One - Inheritance vs Succession

I do think she, and Harry, believed that they could get some kind of money from the Duchy of Cornwall because they probably saw it more as an inheritance, rather than succession. So usually with an inheritance, it’s split between children/relatives, so Meghan probably assumed that Cornwall would be split between William and Harry because it’s Charles giving away an inheritance versus laws about succession. (I’m not sure if that makes sense. I don’t really know how else to explain what I’m thinking about that.)

But it goes back to Diana’s insistence that the brothers be raised equally, and at some point there was probably a conversation or two where “everything William gets, Harry gets” implanted in Harry’s brain and he has really taken that to heart over the years, probably spurred on by Meghan’s own ambitions of “everything Kate gets, I should have too.”

Two - Magnificent Six

Charles’s ‘Magnificent Six’ plan/vision kicked off in 2012 with the jubilee - that the future of the monarchy was Charles, William, and Harry and their wives. William and Kate would focus more on the UK and Harry and his future wife would focus more on the Commonwealth. I feel pretty confident that those discussions Charles was having with his sons and the courtiers at that time would have included some kind of discussion about the finances and how the Commonwealth work would be funded. Maybe during those discussions something came up like because Harry + Future Wife would live at Kensington Palace alongside William and Kate, it made sense that his work would continue to be represented by Kensington Palace instead of being shifted over to Buckingham Palace so maybe there was some kind of deal that a portion of the Cornwall money would continue being allocated to Harry because if the arrangement worked, why break it?

(Remember, back when these discussions were taking place, 2009ish - 2013ish, Meghan wasn’t anywhere close to the picture so there probably were a lot of things promised to Harry, or that Harry expected, that were ultimately taken away when he did marry and Meghan did join the family because of attitude/behavior issues affecting the monarchy’s overall reputation and representation.)

Three - General Not Understanding of These Things

Look, neither Meghan nor Harry are details people. So chances are extraordinarily high that they never bothered to actually read the papers or understand the laws about how the titles, succession, transition, and accession actually worked. They just assumed that everything would stay the same or that they would also get Wales titles too. And we know that’s what they assumed because of all the PR the Sussexes kept putting out in the second half of 2022; stories about how they wanted to start using “Prince Harry and Princess Meghan of Wales” titles - someone out there in Montecito thought that “of Wales” meant children of the monarch, not that it was its own separate title/position.

And I wouldn’t be surprised if that lack of understanding (or sheer ignorance) also came with a heavy delusion that “inheriting” Charles’s “of Wales” surname also came with “inheriting” Charles’s money too.

So I guess long story short, the delusion is rooted in reality. It’s just a matter of figuring out what reality it is. Was there legitimately a plan for William to continue supporting Harry’s office post-accession with Cornwall money the same way Charles supported both of the sons with Cornwall money? Or did Harry promise

#ask #brf #sussexes #theories

[olderthannetfic]

Sorry to ask this. I was going through a blog when I saw a callout post. I checked it out of curiosity. One of the things that was pointed out was : "when they were 31, they had sex with a 18 year old -they are a teenager!- and it's predatory! I (the writer of the callout) am 21 years old and even I don't have sex with 18 year olds because they are very young and it's very predatory!"

So, idk how to feel about that? Especially as someone who has never been in a relationship. I'm 20 years old, soon I'll be 21. Looking at myself at 18 and the future 21, I really didn't change that much? Physically or mentally. Yeah 18 is young but so is 21?? I don't think it's predatory, am I wrong?/serious question

And for the first part, yeah a 31 year old being with a 18 is weird for me, but aren't they both adults? They also said it's because 18 year olds lack experience, which can be true but that's assuming they have never been in a relationship before(with people their own age or similar). So, it can be weird but predatory? Is it?/serious question

I'm sorry if the questions are upsetting &/or weird but I really don't have anyone else to ask- parents are out of question, they literally think you should teach people about sex right before marriage- and I don't trust most online spaces. There's also zero books about such things in my country because "protect the children!!". So now we have an adult(me) who was raised to never ask question about these things and now is confused as hell. Hmm.....

--

It's all hogwash.

On average, I would assume that a 31-year-old having sex with an 18-year-old is a bit of a creep. However, it would depend entirely on the circumstances. Is this 18-year-old a naive high school student? Or are they someone who's been working a job for several years? Maybe the older person is their coworker whom they got to know.

A 21-year-old and an 18-year-old can be weird in the US if they only just met and one is a high school student while the other is a university student. But what if they met in some very different context where they're more in the same stage of life? Sure, I side-eye upperclassmen who start dating freshmen the first week of their freshman year, but what about later on in the year? What if both of these people aren't students at all and are, again, working a job together?

"You're mature for your age" is a line that creepers feed to younger people, but it can also be true. Some people just get along better with older partners.

We shouldn't be too draconian about any specific rule. You can only judge by the real circumstances of a specific set of people.

Predators are defined by their behavior, not ticky-box demographics. There is no absolute that lets you detect them and protect yourself. People wish there were because they would feel safer. That's what this kind of post is about.

[fiveredlights]

I saw you mentioned you liked kid fic and had bookmarks— do you have any reccs for maxiel kid fics?❤️❤️

do i ever!!!! one thing about me is that i will eat kid fics up, like i think i’ve read about all the tagged kid fics in the maxiel tag. i love seeing what names authors choose for their children and it just makes me happy. here's a couple and if you want more lmk!

listen to the slow parts by @nobrakesdown [T-7.2k]

Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.

a lil you, a lil me, a perfect being by 3_33 (@maxcuntstappen) [G-4.8k]

The three of them stand outside, looking at the entrance, August in the middle, clutching tightly onto Max and Daniel’s hands.

“Okay, I need you both to repeat after me.”

“Daniel, we already did this in the car. Can we please just go in?” Max asks, desperately, which only confirms to Daniel the need to remind all of them of the ground rules.

“Baby, please. We need to remember, okay? We are here to meet some new friends and play with them. It is okay if we don’t meet anybody we like. We can always come again. There is no need for us to be upset. Yeah?”

“Yes, Daddy,” August says and drops his hand to give Daniel a mock salute and Daniel really didn’t know he could love someone so much.

“Max,” Daniel implores, knowing that it is as important that his husband acknowledges the plan as much as their kid.

“Yes, yes, Daniel, okay,” Max rolls his eyes but nods in agreement.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Daniel says. The three of them walk in through the doors.

Or: Daniel and Max visit an animal shelter for their son, August's fourth birthday. Daniel is apprehensive. Max and August are vibrating out of their skin.

That's Where I Am by @flawlessassholes [E-47.8k-6/8]

“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly. Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore. “Short for Emilian.” His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say— Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.

There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.

keep me in the open by Aurelia (Lily_Rizzy) (@lilyrizzy) [E-11.7k]

"Chrissy Baker sounds like a cunt,” Daniel says, then cringes at the pointed look his mum shoots him. “What? It’s not like they’re old enough to repeat that yet.”

Grace laughs, the sound audible now over Livia’s cries, which are quickly fading into miserable whimpers. Of course, she behaves for grandma, and not the dad who dotes on her endlessly, feeds her, cuddles her, and wipes her smelly ass.

“Three words, Daniel,” she says, eyebrows raised. “Cash, money, bitches.”

or, Daniel navigates bed times, bath times and jealousy, while Max races his last season in Formula One

summer sun after the rain by gentleau [T-11.7k]

“Papà? Is Max your friend?” “He used to be.”

then you came by beforemidnight [G-4.5k]

Daniel looks at Max swiftly but pointedly. Smiling, he looks back at the camera. “Marrying him was the easiest decision of my life.”

(don't let) the days go by citydreaming (@thewindowatkirkland) [M-11.3k]

“Hey” Daniel says “thanks for coming over.”

“Is now a good time? If you are busy I can come back later.”

“Now is fine, she’s already asleep so we should be able to talk without being interrupted.”

“Talk about how you have a daughter.”

Daniel bites his lip nervously “yeah, about that.”

OR: single dad daniel returns to the grid for one final year with red bull, max doesn’t plan on falling in love with him and his daughter, but somehow it happens anyway.

#i have also gone through all 187 pages of the maxiel tag alphabetically by author but we don’t need to talk about that #me my ao3 bookmarks and google sheets against the world #f1 fic rec #maxiel

[animeomegas]

i think that uchiha omegas are vain without realizing it. for the clan it is not about fitting into the omega stereotypes that are fashionable at the time, but beauty is a type of power, certain physical features are highly valued because they are representations of the purity of the lineage. many of their beauty and makeup rituals are even excessive for other traditional clans and i find the mental image so funny. just imagine massacre au itachi looking at his little brother, his beautiful little brother omega, a pure uchiha, with slightly damaged hair and clean, short nails but not with the usual intricate patterns. he is disturbed both because it is his fault that sasuke knows almost nothing about those traditions and because he fights against the maternal instinct to clean him up and make him worthy of standards that he was raised.

This is such a beautiful ask omg, and I adore it with all my being! 🥰

I love the idea that Uchiha teach all their omegas (and probably the other dynamics too honestly) about make up, fashion, haircare etc. but with the idea that beauty is power. Their clan is beautiful, and that's part of their power and allure.

It's all practical stuff too. Here's my ideas for Uchiha clan beauty standards:

Nails should be short, but beautifully painted.

Hair should be well conditioned with expensive, but crucially scentless, hair products.

Skincare is important. (Uchiha dermatologist specialists, ahh! Non-shinobi members would for sure have the option to specialise in wellness chemistry.)

Clothing is expensive, and stunning. Traditional, but with just the right amount of cutting edge, because they aren't boring like the Hyuuga.

Grace is taught through dance, which Uchiha perform at their traditional festivals.

And Itachi being raised with all this, is intimately familiar with the rituals. He has to paint his nails for the Akatsuki, but they're done so much better than everyone else's. He still knows all the dances, although he doesn't perform them.

And you're so right, Itachi would be unnerved seeing Sasuke without any of that grooming that he would have been expected to do. He was too young for make up when the clan was slaughtered, and he'd only had his nails done by other people so he doesn't know how to do it himself.

He's probably also forgotten all the dances, and outgrown all his formal wear. He definitely doesn't bother with expensive shampoo or skincare.

He doesn't look like an Uchiha should. And Itachi realises in that moment, that even if Sasuke had countless children and revived the clan, the traditions are probably already lost forever. They will quite literally die with Itachi.

I'm imagining Itachi daydreaming about getting to paint Sasuke's nails for him, and performing the special heir dance with him at festivals. When he's face to face with Sasuke, because his mind is struggling to cope with the situation, he finds himself fixating on wanting to wash and brush Sasuke's hair properly. Because it doesn't look right.

This headcanon is perfect. Just the right amount of world building, Uchiha arrogance, and angst.

Here are my questions if anyone wants to jump in:

What sort of nail designs are popular and why?

How does this impact wedding ceremonies?

What kind of special dance rituals or dress up rituals would the heirs have to go through? Did Itachi and Sasuke do it?

How would Itachi and Sasuke feel about this in a non-massacre AU?

#This ask was so good I had to go and have a nap so I could daydream about it <3 #uchiha #sasuke #itachi #a/b/o #omegaverse #headcanons #uchiha clan headcanons

[natalyarose]

𝐵𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒾 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃

🩷 My 'mother in law' is Ashwini Sun in Lahiri, but she always felt super Bharani to me- she had an extremely abusive father, and she just adores her kids and even me. She's a wonderful cook, and soo beautiful! When I first met her I thought she looked so young and vibrant to have a son my partner's age. She went through so much (had really intense childbirth too) and continues to be a nurturing powerhouse for the family, she's just a gem. She's Bharani in galactic center mid-mula ayanamsa 🌌

🩷 My own mama was similar, she was a Bharani Moon- harsh childhood and raised by nuns in an institution (I've noticed this being a theme with Moon in the 10th sometimes). She didn't get that fairytale childhood and she wanted to give that to her babies so much. She was also very beautiful & a great cook. The girls and I used to always say she should go on MasterChef lol. She had me at 42 & my youngest sister at 47- so Bharani, the theme of 'delayed gratification' and the slow moving nature of the elephant yoni 🐘 Sadly she had unhealed demons you could say and there was some darker stuff, but I always recognise how much she gave to us and devoted to us. She bared so much to bring us into this world, rip mum 🤍🩷

Both are also 'exotic' women considering where I'm from, and Venusian Nakshatras relate to rarity and exoticism.

🤍 - I also have a close friend who is Bharani ascendant- gorgeous, 'exotic' by standards of where she lives, adores cooking & her children immensely

🤍my ex roommate had a Bharani placement & willingly handled the cooking for the both of us. I never asked her to or anything, she just loved cooking and sharing her food. She also had a very abusive upbringing.

The feminine strength Bharani exudes astounds me every time I meet a native. They truly go through so much and then often go on to nurture others and go out of their way to give them what they didn't get as a kid.

I'm a D9 Bharani Moon and I do see these themes in myself- I'm not a cook however though lol. I suspect I will be when I'm older though, as D9 activates & unfolds more by means of maturity & self-realisation.

Note: I'm vey anti generalisations since every chart and human being is unique- not every Bharani native will be this way or have these exact experiences depending on other influences and in part free will, but it's definitely a theme that's just wonderful to get to observe

#nakshatras #astrology #vedic astrology #spirituality #vedic #vedic astro observations

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader 

Summary: Being Wheezie’s nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, masturbation, and voyeurism

Wc:3.0K

Chapter 1: Did you enjoy the show?

The sun was beating down on you as you laid out on the beach chair. Wheezie has been begging you all week to go to the beach with her and as per usual she disappeared. A breeze passed by you causing goosebumps to raise across your body. The sound of waves crashing filled your ears as you flipped the page of the book you were reading. “You know I didn’t think my dad pays you to lounge at the beach.” The voice of the one person you do not want to see right now creeps up from behind. You lift the sunglasses as you peak behind you to be greeted with Rafe Cameron. The oldest out of all of the Cameron children and one of the main reasons that even at Wheezie’s age she has a nanny. Your head turns to look at him over the chair you laid on. He’s wearing black swim trunks, your eyes look up at his body and see the chain dangling on his collar before meeting his eyes. Thank god for sunglasses, he would never let you forget checking him out.

“Actually he does. Whatever Wheezie wants she gets, today was the beach.” Your head turns to face the water again, glasses shading your eyes from the sun. The sound of sand shuffling can be heard as Rafe gets closer. His shadow casts a dark film over your body as he looks down at you. “Nice swimsuit, sunny. Really makes your tits pop.” A few snickers come from behind him and with a quick glance behind him you can see Topper and Kelce. “You should wear this around the house more often.” Rafe’s hand goes to caress the strap holding your top up. “Stop it.” You say and swat his hand away from you squirming in the chair to get away from him. 

Through the corner of your eye you can see Wheezie coming back with some of her friends. Standing up you gather all your things, slipping your shorts back on to show off your ass. You might hate the flirting at times but it sure is fun to mess with him. “Come on baby, don't be like that. Why don’t you come hang out with us? I promise you’ll have a good time.” The sound of his voice has this underline of suggestion to it. Narrowing your eyes you stare at him for a second. Rafe has this little grin on his face that royally pisses you off. Who does he think he is? “The next time I want to be left unsatisfied and disappointed I’ll make sure to call you.” The edge in your voice only made his stupid grin grow even more. “Trust me baby.” He steps a little bit closer to you. “I would have you begging me for more when I’m done with you.” He whispered eyes staring at yours behind the sunglasses. 

A scoff leaves your lips as you take a step back. “You’re right. Maybe I” You pause for a second to look at his blue eyes. He’s standing a bit straighter now, you actively have to look up at him. “Maybe after your minute is over I’ll definitely want more. I know how much you love having girls beg you to make them cum.” Which was true. Having to live in the same house as him let alone the same floor has proven that point. “It’s just sad you can’t make them cum the first time.” You shrug your shoulders as his face drops. Topper and Kelce’s laughs ring in your ear, infuriating Rafe as he shoots them a death glare over his shoulder. “Oka-”

“Hey!” Wheezie yells as she gets closer to us. “What are you doing here?” she asks the older Cameron. “Just enjoying the view.” Rafe replies with a shrug. His eyes raking up and down your body landing on your tits once again. “Gross.” You chuckle a little at her reaction. It's good to see that someone else is tired of his constant flirting.

Ever since you got the job a year ago, Rafe was always flirting with you. The small touches and whispers in your ear have been endless. Ward has scolded him so many times that you're surprised even talks to you. It’s not that Rafe isn’t attractive, he is but it's his personality. If that beautiful face hadn’t been so cocky, entitled, or rude you may have already slept with him. Actually you would probably still sleep with him but after hearing girl after girl. As well as dealing with the fall out of each heartbreak, you were all set. You didn’t want to be another notch on his belt and that’s all he sees you as.

“Come on Wheeze. Why don’t we go get some ice cream? I think I saw that cute boy working today.” You send her a wink as your arm wraps around her shoulder. The both of you couldn’t even get a few steps in before Rafe calls out to you. “You aren’t taking my little sister somewhere so you can felt with some fucking guy.” His eyes burn into the back of your head. Stopping and turning your head to look back at him you grin. “The boy isn’t for me, it's for Wheeze. I don’t think my boyfriend would like me flirting with someone else.” The ease in your voice made Rafe clench his jaw. The jealous green monster he hates so much tapping at his shoulder seeing you walk away.

The two of you continue walking, not looking back as he yells out to you. “What boyfriend? Sunny, I'm talking to you, what boyfriend?” Topper and Kelce can be heard trying to get his attention as he keeps calling after you. You keep walking as Wheezie turns to look back at him. The two boys now in front of him holding him back as he tries to follow the both of you. She looks at you for a second and then back to him. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?” Her brown eyes shine behind her glasses staring at me. “Since a second ago.” Looking over at her you both laugh, continuing to the ice cream shop that’s down the road. 

✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶

The sunset was painting the sky with hues of orange, reds, and purple. It looked breathtaking as you sat in the kitchen scrolling on your phone. A video of a puppy playing hide and seek with a baby made you laugh. The sound of footsteps filled the room, Rafe’s voice following along. “What are you laughing about?” “oh sorry I was just texting someone.” You giggle, he steps further into the kitchen making his way to you. “Let me guess that little boyfriend of yours.” Bitterness and a hint of jealousy are laced in his sentence. You place your phone down as you twist your body to face him. 

He looks good. The white t-shirt clings to his arms as he leans down onto the island next to you. “What could he have possibly said that was so funny.” There’s that jealousy again. You lean in a little closer to him, eyes flicking to his lips just in time to catch him liking them. You look back to his eyes, noticing him doing the same. “He was telling me about this douchebag that he met at this party. I think you might know him, he’s this little trust fund baby who thinks he rules the world.” A huf escapes his lips and he leans in a little closer. Lips so close to each other that when he moves his lips they lightly brush yours. “He sounds like an asshole.” He straightens up and walks to the fridge.

Opening it up he takes out a water bottle without looking back at you. His arms flexing distracts you for a moment and you’re glad that he can’t see you. Rafe closes the door and your eyes dart to the rest of the room not looking at anything particular. “It’s sad you are dating him. Maybe that trust fund baby can teach you a good time.” He winks at you when he walks by taking a swig from the bottle. “Very funny I don’t think he would be able to handle me. Plus why would I leave someone who can actually get the job done.” You shrug, picking the phone back up to look busy.  You can see Rafe stop in his tracks from the corner of your eye. “Baby I would rock your world to the point that you would forget your own name. That little boy would look like a rookie once I’m done with you.” With that he just walked away leaving you blushing. 

There’s a slight ache between your thighs and you clench trying to relieve it. Before you can make the mistake of following him Rose walked in. “Hi sweetie. Would you be able to do me a favor? Ward and I are going to the Bahamas for a week to finish up some business deal. Who knows what Sarah will be up to while we are gone and god knows what Rafe will be up to. I swear those two will send Ward to an early grave. Anyway, Wheezie is going to a week-long sleepaway camp with some friends. I know it’s not really your job but can you keep an eye on the other two. We really need to get this deal done and I don’t need them ruining something just to have Ward leave.” She barely looks at you or anything for that matter as she parades around the kitchen, staring at her phone the whole time. Her eyes look up at you waiting for the response. “Of course I can. I’m here to help out in any way.” She smiles at you and grabs a wine glass. “Thank you, You’ve honestly been a big help around the house. I haven’t seen Wheezie this happy or Rafe this well behaved. It's like we needed you.” She chuckles and pours the red wine into her glass.

Her statement took you by surprise. You knew that Wheezie was doing a lot better knowing that she has a stable environment. But the statement about Rafe didn’t make sense. Sure he flirts with you all the time and on rare occasions make sure you are okay at a party. But that’s just because he wants to sleep with you and he knows that if anything happened to you Ward would be upset. You’ve seen Ward yell at him countless of times and know how much Rafe wants his fathers approval. It honestly breaks your heart seeing how hard he really tries. “That’s only because he has to be nice to me. But I’m glad I’m a positive influence.” She takes a sip from her glass tilting her head as she looks at you. There’s something behind her eyes that you can’t make out.“You may not see it but he cares about you. He’s different around you.” She goes back onto her phone as she leaves. “But what do I know? You never know what that kid is thinking. Oh do you mind bringing Wheezie her suitcase? It's in the closet in the hallway.” “Yeah.” You call out stuck in place. 

After a moment you snapped out of it and made your way to get the suitcase. Grabbing it you drop it off in her room. “Here you go kiddo.” You barge into her room. “One suitcase for your travels.” She is standing by her dresser going through it and tossing clothes everywhere. “Do you think this is good to bring?” She’s holding up a dress the two of you got a few weeks back when you were at the mall. “Depends, do you plan on spending the week doing camp activities in that dress?” You reply sitting on the edge of her bed looking at her. She walks over, putting the suitcase next to you as she starts to pack. “It’s not for camp. A cute boy in my grade is going and it’s for when he asks me out.” You laugh, swiping the dress from her hands before she can pack it. “Very funny young lady. When you are at camp you will be doing camp activities, not boys.” You fold the dress putting it back into her drawer before closing it. 

“Uhh.” She cries out, flopping onto the bed. “You’re no fun. It’s fine he wouldn’t have asked me out anyway.” Glancing at her you can see her in deep thought. “He would be stupid if he didn’t. You are so beautiful and amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” You crouch next to her on the floor and she turns her head to the side to see you. “Thank you.” Your right arm reaches up and pushes her hair out of her face. “Just telling the truth… Now finish packing, we don't need a repeat of Cabo.”  You both giggle and you leave her alone.

Making your way down the stairs to your room the sound of a door catches your attention. It closes softly, barely loud enough to hear it. You stop midway on the staircase just in time to see Rafe make his way from your room across the hall to his.  

What was he doing in your room? Rushing down the rest of the stairs you burst into your room. Nothing looks out of place, everything is exactly where you have left it. The bed was still made, your desk perfectly intact, your nightstand has the book you left there last night. If everything was still there what was he doing? Looking around once again you can’t find anything. Your legs start to move before you can think about where you are going. Even though deep down you know exactly where. 

Not even thinking you open Rafes door but stop as soon as you see him. He’s laying on his bed, the shirt he was wearing earlier pulled up to his chest. Your eyes scan down his body and your eyes widen seeing what he is doing. Rafe's right hand is wrapped around his dick stroking it in fast strokes.  “Fuck baby. Just like that, feel fucking amazing.” But what really catches your eyes is the red lace fabric he has pressed up to his nose. He takes a big sniff before bringing the panties down to his dick. You thought Rose's statement shocked you but you are truly frozen now. It’s like every muscle in your body gave up and every neuron in your brain died. No matter how much you wanted to say something or move you couldn’t. The grip you had on the door tightened as you heard him moan.

“Oh god.” His strokes get faster making the veins in his arms pop out more. Another moan leaves his lips. The noise draws your gaze up to his face, which was a mistake because you could ignore the throbbing happening in your shorts. But Rafe’s eyes were screwed shut, head thrown back making his neck look biteable. Yeah looking at the pleasure expression he had right now was a mistake. The little voice in your head telling you to run starts telling you to join him. “Fuck Sunny don’t stop.” Your jaw drops hearing your nickname. The one he gave you a few weeks into working here. 

“Knew you were a slut. Begging me to teach you a lesson.” A sloppy smacking noise reaching your ears. He was thinking about you? You knew he wanted to fuck you but you never thought he would steal you panties just to get off on the thought of you. “Bet your dripping right now. Soaking those little shorts of yours.” This made your eyes shoot up to look at him. Crystal blue eyes meeting yours as his pupils dilate enveloping the sea of blue. He moans as he cums moaning out your name without breaking eye contact. White ropes shooting up and coating his toned stomach. You can feel the blood rush to your face at the thought of being caught watching Rafe masturbate. Well more of the fact that you like watching Rafe himself off. 

“If I knew you were into voyeurism I would have left my door open a long time ago.” He chuckles, running his hand over his buzz cut. “I-I’m sorry. I saw you come out of my room and I.” The words die on your tongue watching as he gets up from the bed, wiping off his cum with my panties. His moans keep playing in your head as you just stare. He makes his way over to you, striping from his shirt leaving him completely bare in front of you. “It’s okay I liked that you watched me. Maybe next time I won’t have to use your panties.” He taunts waving the red lace in your face. 

With your brain not functioning no comebacks came to mind and you didn’t feel his hand wrapping around your waist. “So tell me if I reach into those pretty panties will you be as soaked as I think you’ll be.” The soft fabric brush against your lips finally snapping you out of whatever daze was put over you. You push him off of you and snatch the panties out of his hand. “You fucking wish asshole.” You exclaim practically running out of the room to yours and locking the door.

Your chest rises and falls in fast motions trying to have you catch your breath. What just happened? The events keep playing in your mind as you throw the solid garment into the hamper and go to wash your hands in the ensuite bathroom. Scrubbing furiously you get the remnants of his cum off of your hands. You lean against it with your head hanging between your shoulders. It wasn’t until you licked your lips and tasted salt you remembered the moment. He had wiped the painties on your lips before you had stormed off. You still had his cum left on your lips.

#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx

[llyfrenfys]

In which I try not to be That Guy TM when it comes to Irish ancestors: An exploration of ancestry, diaspora and culture

Because of The Horrors TM in my life atm I've been looking into my biological family tree. I'm adopted but estranged from my adoptive family and I never met my biological family since I was adopted just short of my 2nd birthday. I've been tracing my ancestry for about 3 years now and it's genuinely quite stress relieving to me. It's also fun and challenging from a research standpoint - putting together my own family tree gave me the skills to write articles like this one I wrote in 2022 about historical Welsh queer people, for example.

Lately, I've been finding out more about my Irish ancestors while an adoptee (and thus not knowing any of my biological family) - but also doing this as a Celticist and tired of people doing the 'my sister's friend's cousin's father's mother was Irish' thing. This has created an almost unbearable tension between curiosity at my own ancestry while trying not to be That Guy who finds out about one (1) Irish ancestor hundreds of years ago and is weird about it.

Especially since mine are quite distant ancestors - my great, great, great grandparents were born in Dublin and in a tiny village in County Down called Dunnaman (near Kilkeel). However, they were Irish Catholics and emigrated to Liverpool in the 1870s - all of their subsequent children and grandchildren were born in Liverpool and all of the above + great grandchildren were raised Catholic - including my grandmother (who died before I was born). So there was an obvious attempt to maintain that heritage. There's even evidence my great, great, great grandmother at least spoke Irish (which, as she was born in County Down, would have been Ulster Irish).

The problems with uncritically throwing oneself at an ancestor's nationality:

Now, not all North Americans of Irish (or Welsh, Scottish, Italian, Scandinavian, German etc.) descent do this - but there's a very vocal set of North Americans of Irish descent who find awe and interest in their ancestry - which is actually quite a positive thing! - however, due to either temporal or cultural disconnect, they may end up doing or saying things (and not necessarily with bad intentions) which can have a negative impact on the Irish and the Irish language (or [nationality] and [language(s) associated with that nationality].

I'm reminded of the time an American commented on a Welsh language rights post I made in support of Welsh speakers, but they accidentally ended up using a white nationalist slogan by mistake. It can be a minefield - and with regards to Ireland specifically, mistakes like that can be so much worse. To literally give my own (mild) example, today I decided to relearn Irish (since I haven't spoken any in years since being taught basics at undergrad) and picked up a blank notebook I bought at Tesco the other week, while completely forgetting the inside cover of the notebook was orange. I was planning on decorating the notebook anyway and painted it a different colour. While I know that nobody would really hold it against me if I didn't change the colour, I just know that walking around with an orange notebook filled with Irish I'm relearning because of interest in my Catholic ancestors could be a confusing set of messages, at the very least. If you don't understand why this is, look up the meanings of the colours on the flag of Ireland.

Which is to say, even those of us in Northern Europe who have significantly greater physical proximity to Ireland than North America (and therefore should know better) still can and do get things wrong. And not just benignly wrong like in my case.

The tendency for some North Americans of Irish descent (Canada isn't exempt from this) to conflate Irish ancestry with a contemporary connection to the modern countries located on the island of Ireland as a whole can have results ranging from 'a bit weird' to 'jesus fucking christ'. As a Celticist, I've seen far, far too many Americans of Irish descent try to weigh in on modern Irish politics without any background knowledge or tact at all - and naturally they stake their claim on modern Irish politics entirely on the premise of having distant Irish ancestors. Or, even worse, things start to get all phrenological.

'Irish blood' and the nonexistence thereof:

'Irish blood' is continually evoked by some to validate their sense of 'Irishness' and the obsession with '[insert nationality] blood' is a distinctly North American phenomenon- likely related to or an offshoot of the concept of 'blood quantum', in which enrolment into some Native American nations and tribes is determined by how much 'Native blood' a person has. Notably, many people who would ostensibly have been described under this system as 'full blood' were registered by the US as 'half blood'. This is a method of genocide intended to wipe out tribes and nations by imposing strict measures of who does or does not qualify to enrol into a tribe or nation. This concept seems to have been extrapolated over time (in a North American context at least) into the idea of descent from other nationalities' being measured in a similar or adjacent way. This is how you end up with some North Americans declaring they are '1/8 Italian and 1/4 Irish' on their dad's side etc. While in Europe (where these nationalities hail from, crucially) this practice is seen as a really weird way to describe your ancestry. In general, it's simply 'my 4 times grandfather came from Spain' or 'my great great grandfather on my dad's side came from Finland' etc. if it comes up at all. For various political reasons, many Europeans with descent from multiple other European nationalities may choose to omit to mention descent from certain nationalities, especially if in recent history there has been conflict between their birth nation and an ancestor's nation. The most famous example of this is literally the British royal family changing their surname from the German Saxe-Coburg and Gotha to the more 'British sounding' Windsor in 1917 due to the onset of the First World War.

Where it gets really weird (and also very offensive and rude) is when cultural stereotypes get invoked alongside the whole 'blood' thing in usually quite damaging and/or disparaging ways. I've seen way too many North Americans of Irish descent claim they're alcoholics because they have 'Irish blood' or even worse, claim it's normal to domestically abuse their spouses because of it!! (Genuine thing I have seen btw). Same goes for claiming to be a naturally good chef because of 'Italian blood' and so on. As a general rule, people from the place where your ancestors were from don't generally like to be inherently be considered drunks or prone to violence due to their nationality. Or have weird and inaccurate idealisms projected onto their language or cuisine.

Aren't there any positives?

It wouldn't be fair to make a post like this without mentioning some of the positives that can come from interest in an Irish ancestor. Like I mentioned at the start of this post, I myself felt inspired to relearn Irish because of my own Irish ancestors. I was taught the Connacht dialect at undergrad, however, since my ancestor was from County Down, I'm going to try and learn Ulster Irish instead. One doesn't need Irish ancestors to learn Irish of course - when I learned I wasn't aware I had any Irish ancestors. But being inspired to learn Irish because of an ancestor can't hurt and directly increases the number of Irish speakers in the world (provided you keep at it). This is a net positive for the language as a whole.

Similarly, people who have educated themselves on Irish politics because of their ancestry and genuinely learned something are also a positive thing to come out of discovering Irish ancestors. In my experience, these people are the kind of people I enjoy talking to about being a Celticist because they actively want to learn and respect the cultures being talked about. Which is huge to me!

Conclusion:

As a Welsh speaker whose national identity is more-or-less Jan Morris-esque, my Irish ancestry is an interesting facet of my ancestry I simply didn't know about before. And being an adopted person, I can sympathise with the general sentiment of a lot of white North Americans of feeling disconnected or alienated from any ancestral heritage. The conditions which create That Guy TM as described above rely on that sense of alienation to propagate a very ineffective, tactless and often very insensitive approach to Irish and other European cultures. But the important thing is that that approach can be challenged by people genuinely interested in their ancestry who are also conscientious of the living versions of the cultures their ancestors hailed from.

For me, that means learning Irish in a dialect my ancestors are likely to have spoken. I also visited the library today to check out some books on the Irish emigration to England and the sociopolitical reasons behind that emigration. I know the broad strokes, but the details are desirable to know to get a better idea of the why and how the country of my birth had a hand in creating the conditions which led my ancestors to emigrate in the first place. I think the world would be a better place if people took the time to understand the history and politics of ancestors which don't share their nationality.

As always, reblogs and thoughts are welcomed and encouraged!

Thank you for reading to the end - and if you'd like to support me, please see my pinned post. Diolch!

#long post #Ireland #Irish #Gaelige #Celtic Studies #Celticist #Irish diaspora #Irish americans #blood quantum cw #racism cw #(just in case) #ancestry #geneology #family history #I've probably made typos but it's 11:40pm and I need to go to sleep

[ettelenethelien]

I think mortal children raised in Rivendell should get to have a lil' outdated set of cultural references, as a treat.

Aragorn swears by the Grinding Ice (he got it from Glorfindel). The other rangers are slightly amused. He hums songs that sound strange coming from a human mouth and are very definitely not up to date even for elves, with Doom et all, and darkness in the North.

He has no concept whatsoever that something might have been fashionable three centuries ago, and instead he's got a wide arsenal of anecdotes about long dead Doriathrim he never has met nor shall meet.

It's not that he's maladjusted to living among the Dúnedain. He just goes above and beyond.

#my post #Aragorn #Rivendell #peoples of arda #lotr

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

Majexatli as a Companion

[Part 1/?]

[Questions from here]

Where can your Tav be recruited?

Majexatli can be recruited in Act 1. They are found on the Risen Road, by the hyenas. When approaching for the first time, a cutscene will play, in which the player sees a dire coyote eating one of the hyenas and being attacked by gnolls. The dire coyote races after the gnolls beyond the trees and out of sight, allowing the player to investigate the dead and dying hyenas on the road. 

After the player begins combat with the hyenas, Majexatli will join initiative, rushing into combat to assist the players from where the dire coyote has disappeared. Once combat ends, Majexatli will introduce themselves and their tadpole will connect with the players, indicating that they too were on the Nautiloid.

Your tadpole squirms in recognition, their fragmented memories becoming your own. Flashes of verdant forests, vast grasslands, kneeling before a gathering of druidic elders, wandering overgrown paths, the title of Faithwarden. With each flash, however, an undercurrent of hunger, growing in intensity with each passing memory until it erupts into something blood-red and razor-sharp.

The Dark Urge will get a unique dialogue option here, relating to the bloodlust in Majexatli’s memories. Druids will also get a unique dialogue with an insight check where they can mentally speculate on Majexatli’s druidic background and note that Majexatli’s druidic armor is very different from most druids. Druid players will also recognize the title of Faithwarden and note the high honor of the title. Rangers can notice that their armor and clothing seem more reminiscent of a ranger than a druid. Clerics can notice their lack of a holy or druidic symbol.

Majexatli will offer their assistance to the player, saying that they are an accomplished druid and alchemist and that they can help navigate the area.

If allowed, Majexatli will either join the player's active party if there’s room, or be told to head to the player’s camp.

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

I can't imagine Majexatli being recruited before some of the origin companions, but I've included everyone anyways for the fun of it.

About Wyll: The Blade of Frontiers... I haven't actually heard of him, I'm afraid. He seems a good man, though, and rather charming...

About Karlach: It's nice to have another tiefling in camp. I imagine she's one hell of a fighter, too, anyone who's lived in the hells has to be.

About Astarion: Hm. I'd keep an eye on the pale one.

About Shadowheart: If I've learned anything during my years, it's that you should always have a healer with you, regardless of whatever they have going on. Shadowheart will be important if we want to stay alive.

About Lae'zel: Lae'zel is quite the warrior, it's wise to have her around. I don't know much about her people, but if she says she knows the cure for our parasites, I'm willing to follow her lead.

About Gale: Stranger as it is, I've never met a wizard. Gale seems quite knowledgeable. He's kind of everything I imagined a wizard would be like, if I'm honest. Very... wizardly.

About Halsin: (sighs) I suppose it's good for Halsin to finally join us, given how long he's been in our camp.

About Minthara: I think it's good to have Minthara with us, as long as she stays on our side that is. I might not agree with everything she says, but she's quite impressive in battle.

About Jaheira: Hm. Another druid.

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

Raise approval: helping people in need, killing people who are abusing power/authority, respecting nature, some violence, survival skills (foraging, gathering plants, gathering loot from killed beasts) being kind to children

Lower approval: senseless cruelty, delighting in the suffering of others, expressing disgust for monsters, abusing authority/power, taking advantage of innocent people, neutrality, maintaining balance or status quo

#eldritch it speaks #salam plays bg3 #oc: majexatli #long post

[radfemnotfemme]

Hi! I see you're a radblr and a lesbian, which is great, because I'm trying to understand something but I feel like I'm biased (I'm hetero) and can't see the lesbian perspective properly. I'd like to ask this to my irl lesbian friend but I'm too afraid of sounding rude. I hope you can help me understand better!

So. Let's forget about personality (which is the most important thing for sure) for a second and let's talk about physical attraction only. Lesbians like women. Lesbians do not like men. So it's reasonable to assume they are attracted to the female body characteristics which differ from the male body (like breasts, large hips, female genitals, etc) just like hetero men are. Ideally, the more feminine the trait, the more attractive it should be, right?

So, why are many lesbians attracted to the 'butch' type? From my (biased) perspective, butches are like tomboys, so they seem to want to appear less traditionally feminine (example: short hair - not a male characteristic per se, but it is associated to men because most men have short hair; we could discuss this theoretically, but the social bias is undeniable and no one can escape it). Butches share many characteristics (like style, mannerism, etc) with men, to which lesbians should not attracted. But this is disproven by evidence, since many lesbians like butches! Help. I'm terribly confused.

Hi there, thanks for the question! You mentioned that you understand that lesbians are attracted to female body characteristics (such as breasts, wider hips, female genitals.) A woman has these female characteristics regardless if they’re butch or femme. Butch women may be masculine on the outside appearance or through personality, but at the end of the day they have female sex traits that those who are only attracted to males would not find attractive in any capacity. Butches may try to “hide” these bodily female characteristics, but when in a romantic or sexual relationship with someone you’re going to see what their body actually looks like. Short answer is: butches are females, men are males. It’s entirely possible to be attracted to masculinity but find male sex traits (such as no breasts, deep voice, beards, or penis) revolting or not attractive. Straight women who are attracted to feminine men are not homoSEXuals because of this, just as a lesbian isn’t heteroSEXual for liking butches. Same stuff for masculine gay men who attracted to feminine gay men.

You said “Ideally the more feminine the trait, the more attractive it should be?” which I disagree with. Femininity and female have no correlation at its core, as one is of a biological basis and the other is of a societal basis (though they tend to align, I believe masculinity is the natural state of all people anyways and girls are socialized to be very feminine.) ‘The more female a trait, the more attractive it should be to a lesbian’ is a better phrase, but femaleness comes in all sorts of appearance so it doesn’t really indicate anything or make much sense. You brought up short hair as an example of the similarities between men & butches, which i will agree on, but once again, this doesn’t erase the simple biological difference between a man and a butch. I actually happen to be a butch in a relationship with a femme, so i’m going to offer both my viewpoint, and hers:

As a butch who’s generally only attracted to femmes, I used to not be attracted to masculine women or butches. I still am not for the most part. It took a lot of unpacking internalized homophobia & heteronormative social standards for me to understand why. Everyone is raised to believe that the masculine belongs with the feminine as a child, and gay children are not exceptions to this. I think it’s been ingrained in me since a child that the type of person I should be attracted to is a feminine person. I’ve known since childhood that I was not feminine in the way my female peers were, as I’ve always been pretty masculine. When in elementary and early middle school, the boys I “liked” have all turned out to be feminine gay men (lol.) I never really was attracted to these boys of course, but I was attracted to femininity in females and it was the best I thought I could get. I thought that since I had to be with a boy, I would logically just be with a feminine one. When I understood that being lesbian was an option, I never looked back. It’s hard for me to unpack that me being attracted to a masculine woman isn’t me being attracted to a man, and I know this subconsciously is why I say i’m not attracted to butches much at all. I could possibly be attracted to a butch, but i think socialization has its claws gripped into me (and also just a mix of the fact that femininity is my personal preference in a lady.)

I asked my femme girlfriend her thoughts on this, and this is a summarized version of what she had to say (she thought I was asking about myself):

“[A butch] may be mistaken for a man, or be read as a man at first glance, but when you take a closer look it’s undeniable that you’re a woman. Your eyes are beautiful and feminine, you have a gorgeous feminine body & chest. Your hands are soft, small, & delicate (and no i’m not trying to poke fun at your insecurity i’m being serious) When you smile it’s even more obvious that you’re a woman. I am attracted to your masculinity of course, I love that you have muscles, the way you dress, [redacted personal hobbies], your short hair, how in control/dominant you are. I also love your curves, your soft voice, and smooth skin. & you don’t have the personality of a man, you just pick up hobbies and mannerisms most women are afraid will make them appear “manly.” You actually convinced me to start doing [redacted personal hobby] that i never even considered before because I thought of it as something that boys or men do and now I really enjoy it.”

Sorry if this is a bit of a word vomit or not comprehendible, but i wanted to explain as best as I could lol

#rad fem #radical feminism #radblr #female separatism #terfblr #terfsafe #gender critical #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do interact #radical lesbian

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 8!!

I see your votes everyone, and I hear your voices. But before I can, in good conscience, place us in Heathrow, I need to share this with you.

Beginning|| Previous || Next

******************

In the end, convincing Aziraphale (who, surprise surprise, had never flown on a plane) that First Class was the way to go wasn’t all that hard.

“Otherwise you fly all cramped with hundreds of other people!” You say. Crowley nods.

“Mmmmm yes,” the demon agrees, “Imagine being elbow-to-elbow with all those humans. Feet in your face, children kicking the back of your seat, sharing an armrest!”

“I rather like humans though,” says Azirphale, even though he looks a little pale at the mention of armrests, “And I would be next to you anyway.”

“What about the humans who haven’t showered for days?” You ask, “How long has it been since the last time you were near one person, nevermind a hundred-ish, who didn’t follow basic hygiene practices? A few hundred years?”

Aziraphale’s face falls. Crowley chimes in.

“Oh yes, just imagine all the sweat and grease from the airport food.”

“And then there are the babies that travel. I mean, their ears pop when the plane takes off and when it lands, and they only really have one coping strategy.”

“Aaah,” Crowley says, “The crying babes! Think of all the crying babies and no escape! Not for hours and hours and hours.”

“And then,” You say, “There’s the in-flight meal.” Here, you seem to have struck a cord. Duh, you should have led with this. Aziraphale raises an eyebrow.

“Oh? They serve food?”

“Psh,” You say, “If you can call it that. They ask you if you want chicken or vegetarian, and then they plop a cardboard box with a film top in front of you.”

“It’s dreadful,” agrees Crowley, “All bland and clearly frozen and warmed up in a microwave.”

“And if you’re lucky, you can tell that it’s meant to be a sandwich,” You add.

“Supposing you can tell that it’s food at all!” Crowley says with a nod, “And their wine list is small potatoes.”

“Small bland potatoes,” You say, “If you can call them potatoes at all – served in the tiniest bottles and the tiniest glasses you ever did see.”

You noticed Aziraphale’s eye twitch ever so slightly.

“And in First Class they...they serve actual food and wine, do they?”

“Oh yeah,” You say, “with proper service and cloth napkins and everything. Most of the airline websites say that the food’s prepared by an actual chef.”

“And the glasses are normal sizes, and made of actual glass,” adds Crowley for good measure. Aziraphale hums.

“Yes, fine. Clearly First Class is the only acceptable way to travel.” He leaves the room. You hear the kettle turn on. He probably needs some tea to calm his nerves after hearing all that. You turn to Crowley.

“So you’ve gone on a plane before, huh? Did you invent the food? I would not be surprised if you did.”

“Me?” Crowley says, “Naaaah. Never flown on a plane. Never needed to. But I know a bit of fun when I see it.”

You look up at him and sigh, cradling your chin in your hands for effect.

“It really is no wonder why Aziraphale loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” Crowley says, his ears turning pink.

-----

And now, dear Reader, we arrive at Heathrow. Anathema and Newt had met you at the bookshop, and the four of you drove over together in the Bentley after bidding Newt and Muriel goodbye. You spend the entire wait in line at airport security feeling nervous. Airport security is always a test for your nerves to begin with, but this time you have no passport or paperwork of any kind to twiddle in your hands to take the edge off. Instead, you fidget relentlessly with the button in your pocket (Muriel, being an observant and kind soul, had given you a large-ish green button to put in your pocket “Because you seem nervous, and it looked like it helped you last time.” You swear if anyone harms your new best friend while you’re gone you will end them). The line goes quicker than you would like, and when it gets to be your turn, honestly you’re not sure what happens. It all goes smoothly. Did Aziraphale and Crowley miracle you a passport? Did they click a finger or wave a hand to convince the guard that everything was in order? You have no idea, because you’re too focused on your nerves and Trying Not To Look Suspicious While Worrying That This Makes You Look More Suspicious Than You Would If You Could Just Be Normal About This (if you know the feeling, you know why it gets to be capitalized like that).

Once the stress of airport security is done, you head to the bathroom for a break from the chaos so that you can figure out how to breathe again. Normally, you wouldn’t be That Person to occupy the Accessible Washroom, but since you are desperately trying not to have a panic attack because of all the pent-up anxiety from the whole airport security thing, you decide that you Really Cannot Do People Right Now, and that the single-occupant washroom may be your saving grace. You lock the door and sigh, leaning against the cold metal. It’s comparatively quiet here, and you’re grateful for it. Thank Someone. You resolve to try not to be too long in case someone who actually needs this washroom comes by (although I’m gonna be honest here, reader, right now you need this room for invisible accessibility/health reasons). After a minute or two, you are finally starting to feel your anxiety return to a manageable level. Everything is okay. You are traveling with the most ideal companions you could ever dream of, and the worst part is over. Everything from here on out is smooth sailing.

Except, dear reader, you all voted. And So It Shall Be.

You’ve just finished drying your hands.

“Aah,” says a voice behind you. You jump a solid 3 feet in the air. “I thought I might find you here.”

“HOLY! FUCKING! ZOMBIE! JESUS!!!” You sputter.

“Mind your manners, human.”

“Manners?? ME?? This is a WASHROOM.”

The Metatron looks at you blankly and shrugs. Ah yes, the biggest jerk in Heaven doesn’t know or care about washrooms or privacy. Or actually being polite.

“I merely wanted to have a word with you. Away from the others, of course.”

“Yeeeaaaaah,” You say. You’ve seen a million movies (approximate), and read a million books (also approximate), you know what this is. This is the maybe we can still solve this problem quietly plot. And you know that actually having the conversation is a bad idea. “I don’t think so.”

You reach for thee door. It’s locked, and it won’t unlock. Of course. You (gently) pound your head against the door, before turning to face Metatron. You take a breath, and answer as calmly as you can given how angry you are.

“What. Do you want?”

“I merely hoped that we could agree upon...an arrangement.”

“Pretty sure I made it clear back at the bookshop that I’m not letting you anywhere near them.”

“Oh dear, no. This has nothing to do with the demon or with Aziraphale. This is about you.”

You mentally brace yourself. Here comes the manipulation. You inwardly remind yourself of the tropes of villain manipulation and all the things you’ve ever shouted at the tv screen after one of these interactions. You need to be prepared, because apparently you need to play this out. And so, you give him the response he clearly wants.

“What about me?”

“Well, my dear, I only thought that perhaps you might like to go home.”

“Ha! Nice try.”

“You have no desire to return to your family? Your friends? Your life?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

“And you think you’ll get a similar offer later?”

“I mean...well yeah. I don’t know whether I would actually want to go back yet but --”

“You think Aziraphale and his associates will want to keep you as their pet forever? My dear, they only entertain you right now because you’re useful to them.”

Okay, I mean you knew that already but still. Ouch. Hearing it out loud is just...Ouch. Unfortunately, you do not have the Acting Prowess of either Michael Sheen or David Tennant, and so the Metatron sees the Ouch. He smiles kindly.

“Here, you are merely a tool,” he continues, voice smooth as honey, “And back home there are people who love you and value your presence in their lives. Back home there are people who miss you purely because you are you. Here, you are well, a convenience. A help. But that’s all. And once this is all over, there is no promise, no guarantee that you would be able to return. And no reason for Aziraphale to keep you. You would need to start again, and since you needed the help of an angel to get through airport security, I’m guessing that would be very difficult for you. And then, of course, there’s your immortal soul to be concerned about once the Final Judgment comes to pass.”

You ignore the bait, even though it stings. Take a breath. You’ve got this.

“That’s all irrelevant right now,” You say.

“Is it? It seems that you’re….what’s that charming human expression? Flying by the seat of your pants?” He chuckles at his own joke. You smile awkwardly. Well, yes you are, but the heroes in stories do all the time. They figure it out as they go. You are doing no worse than any of them. You don’t find the joke so funny. And frankly his laughter is unsettling.

“Um...” You start uncertainly, “Well if that’s all, then can I go now?”

“In a moment,” the Metatron says smugly. Oh you hate that he has so much control right now. “First I would like to extend to you the offer of some help. I would like to see you home safely, at a time of your choosing. Whenever you feel that you are ready.”

“And you have the power to do that, do you?” You’re skeptical.

“I have the power of all Creation at my disposal.”

“Riiiiight. Just out of the goodness of your own angelic heart. That’s very kind of you Metatron.” You’re not sure if he hears the edge of sarcasm. He shrugs regardless.

“There is of course, one and only one thing I would like from you if you decide to take my help.”

“Oooooof course there is. I’m not letting you near Aziraphale and Crowley.”

“Once again, my dear, this has nothing to do with them. All I would like is to know why your first instinct was to take that coffee. The full truth, mind you. None of that sarcasm or loophole nonsense that you humans are so fond of. And do not be foolish enough to think I can’t tell the difference.” He looks at you pointedly.

That’s...a suspiciously innocuous request. But then again, it usually is with these sort of things, isn’t it? You feign non-chalance and tap your foot for emphasis.

“Are you done yet?” You ask obstinately. The door unlocks audibly behind you.

“Just think about it,” says the Metatron, “No rush.”

Oh yes there is one. You rush to open the door. Never before have you felt so relieved to be in a crowded place.

Don't worry about airplane route logistics or whether or not you can actually get a direct flight from Heathrow to Orlando. Just vote for whatever you would like :)

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning|| Previous || Next

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens fandom #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow lasts forever #good omens fanart #this counts as art right? #good omens fanfiction #fanfiction #good omens fanfic #good omens 2 fanfic #good omens fic #let's write #we're all in this together #poll fic #fanatic intervention #choose your own adventure #anathema #metatron #muriel is a sweetheart #ineffable fandom #it's ineffable #flying by the seat of my pants #almost typed “poolite” instead of “polite” #lol #writers on tumblr

[notwiselybuttoowell]

How did the crab get out of prison? And why did the crab get bad grades?

The answers to these conundrums and other clawsome jokes were among the competitors for the inaugural World’s Funniest Crab Joke competition, held by the Crab Museum in Margate to celebrate International Crab Day.

The winning gag, submitted by an anonymous joker, was: “Why did the crab cross the road? It didn’t. It used the sidewalk.”

An expert panel of judges, including the comedians Harry Hill, Rose Matafeo, Sally Phillips and Phil Wang, as well as children from Ramsgate Arts primary school, scored their favourite jokes before the totals were tallied and a winner crowned.

The only rules of the contest were that the jokes should be kept PG, and that lobsters could be mentioned in the setup of the joke, but not the “pinchline”.

Organisers said that, although most of the 700 submissions did abide by the rules, several jokes “were disqualified for scientific inaccuracy, and rather a lot for lewdness”.

In an unexpected sideways move, the crabs themselves picked the winner from the four jokes ranked highest by the judges, with the help of some tinned fish in bait bags and rolled-up pieces of paper with the jokes written on them.

The twist on the classic road-crossing formula proved triumphant, and was followed in second by another variation on a classic: “Man walks into a restaurant with a crab under his arm and says, ‘Do you make crab cakes?’ Manager answers, ‘Yes, we do.’ ‘Good,’ says the man, ‘because it’s his birthday.’”

Third place was awarded jointly to: “Why didn’t the crab help the chicken cross the road? Because it was eaten by a pelican crossing,” and: “What format do you have to save photos of crab soup on to? Floppy bisque.”

A Crab Museum spokesperson said the organisers hoped the contest might inspire people into environmental activism: “The quality and quantity of jokes this year has been astounding. We’ve been pinching ourselves since the submissions closed! That said, laughing at jokes, much like learning about crabs, can be a powerful tool to help us reassess our relationship with our environment. You’d be surprised how quickly you can go from chuckling at crab gags to letting down SUV tires. Whilst we may not have made this clear to our judges, it is in this spirit that the World’s Funniest Crab Joke competition has been organised.”

The museum, which opened in 2021 and claims to be “Europe’s first and only museum dedicated to the decapod”, aims to raise awareness of the often unheralded but incredibly diverse world of crabs.

#excerpts #crabs #comedy #museums #puff piece #... #crab puffs #environment #(more jokes in link) #they probably made the right choice #though the runner up is good too

[the-oc-lass]

ECHO GIRLIES WHO WILL BE EMOTIONALLY TRAUMATIZED IF HE DIES NEXT WEEK (it's me I'm Echo Girlies) RISE UP

The past two episodes have me both very excited for Echo because he's been so cool while also being so fucking stressed because he's in a dangerous situation. Take my guy out of that situation please and thank you.

So, to calm my nerves, I handed him a baby. Echo and a Baby is now on Ao3.

Crosshair and a Baby

Wrecker and a Baby

Gregor and a Baby

It's been pointed out to me that it might be easier if instead of posting each clone as a different chapter, I just post them as separate fics, so please cast your vote and let me know your thoughts on this.

Full fic below the cut in case you don't wanna go to Ao3:

Echo has known Rayona Yothia since his ARC Trooper training. Outside of his brothers, she is the most important person to him. She’s his best friend, and he’s utterly devoted to her. He was honored when she named her son after him and was happy to—along with his brothers—help her raise the baby. He loves Ec, just like the rest of his brothers do. He’s also dubbed himself the best with Ec which, usually, is perfectly fine. However-

“Echo!” He’s in the middle of meeting with Rex and Rayona about a prison transport they want to go after when his name is practically screamed across the base. He sighs and lifts his head, watching as Howzer comes rushing into the room, holding Ec out like he’s a bomb ready to explode. Howzer is perfectly capable with children around Omega’s age because of his time on Ryloth, but he’s incredibly lost when it comes to Ec. And, as it turns out, full diapers. Rayona snorts behind Echo and he turns to give her an unamused look. When he raises an eyebrow at her, she simply leans slightly on the holotable and grins at him. 

“Oh, no, honey. He called for you,” she says. He knows that if he insisted, she’d chuckle good-naturedly and go change Ec’s diaper without complaint. Instead, though, he simply sighs and turns to look at Howzer. He crosses the room and takes Ec from the frazzled former captain’s hands, watching how he almost instantly relaxes. Echo looks down at his namesake, who giggles up at him, and sighs again. 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

Echo cleans the baby up with practiced ease, barely having to think about it as he moves. 

“You’re a little menace, you know that?” he says, looking Ec in the eyes. The child simply smiles at him, and Echo sighs and shakes his head. When the diaper has been changed, Echo lifts Ec into his arms, bouncing him slightly. Ec giggles and joyfully pats his hands against Echo’s chest. After a moment, the little boy yawns and Echo chuckles. “Tired, ad’ika?” Ec doesn’t reply, but instead yawns again and curls tiny hands against Echo’s armor. Echo smiles and adjusts Ec in his arms, then turns to walk him across the room to his small bassinet. Ec whines when Echo goes to put him down and Echo pauses, inspecting the child for a moment. Ec stares up at him with big eyes, almost like he’s pleading for something. After a moment, Echo smiles softly and sighs. “Alright.” He clears his throat slightly, then opens his mouth again. The song falls from his lips with ease, bringing him back to a simpler time. This song is in a language he barely knows, learned from a woman whom he fought beside in battle during the war. He heard her sing it to her daughters often. He misses her. Misses all of them, really. But he can remember her with the lullaby that he learned from her, by singing it to this precious child. Ec makes a soft noise, curling into Echo’s chest. By the time the song is done, Ec is breathing steadily against Echo’s chest, fast asleep. Echo plants a kiss on the tuft of light green in Ec’s otherwise brown hair, then gently lays him down in his bassinet. He strokes a hand over Ec’s head, smiling down at the sleeping baby. Even with all of them pitching in to help take care of him, Ec can still be a lot. Part of it comes from worry, of course. Ec is young and small. He’s the son of a clone and a non-human Jedi, both of whom risk their lives almost any time they aren’t with him. The child has no concept of how fragile he and his life are. From the moment he found out Rayona was pregnant, Echo swore to protect not only her but her baby as well. Now, here that baby lays before him. A perfect beam of shining starlight. After a few moments of watching Ec, the door opens and Echo lifts his head. Rayona curls her arms around his torso and rests her chin on his shoulder, looking down at her son. 

“Thanks for taking care of him,” she says softly. He hums, head tilting slightly to rest against hers. 

“Of course. You know I don’t mind,” he says. She hums, and they both stare down at Ec for a moment. “You made a good kid, Ray.” She chuckles softly. 

“He wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t kept me from getting myself killed.” She looks at Ec for a moment. “I’ve never loved anything as much as I love him.” 

“It’s scary, isn’t it?” Echo asks. She lets out a shuddering breath. 

“Terrifying.” Echo curls his droid hand—the one she and Tech built especially for him—around her arm and squeezes gently. 

“We love him too, Ray. We’re here to help you protect him. He’s our baby too.” She chuckles again. 

“Yeah. I guess he is.” They stand there for a few seconds more. 

“I’ll bet you ten credits he wakes up in less than an hour.” She laughs into his shoulder. 

“I might as well just give you those credits now.” He grins. 

“Pay up, General.”

#the bad batch #tbb #sw tbb #clone force 99 #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch s3 #the bad batch echo #echo the bad batch #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #bad batch echo #tbb echo #he makes me fucking emotional #tbb s3 #star wars the bad batch #baby fluff #baby fic #ECHO SINGS SKDLJFDLSKFJ #clone wars echo #echooooooo #original characters #OC: Rayona Yothia #PLATONIC SOULMATES MOTHERFUCKER

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.112 Cutting ties

Love Day came upon us again, and it was so nice to have someone to celebrate with. Someone to celebrate, period. Sophia and I rarely did things traditionally, and I continued that trend by asking her out on a breakfast date. I suggested Vivianna's because it was the first place that came to mind, and I really liked their food. But Sophia was in goofball mode and said I wanted to see my girlfriend. I didn't like her saying that, but I loved seeing her in high spirits in those days, so I let it ride. When we got there, the host seated us at the same table from last time, and that sent her even more.

"It's a sign, Luca! If she's our server again, it's means you were meant to be."

I shook my head at her.

"You are way too high on life right now."

She gasped, still giggling at her silly joke.

"Luca! She's here! I think she's coming this way!"

I was still shaking my head when Yasmine walked up.

"Happy Love Day," she said drily. "Y'all don't have restaurants in Oasis Springs?"

"Of course we do," Sophia said before I had a chance to even think of a response. "But we love this one."

"Hmph. You must really love this food. I wouldn't unfriend someone and still show up at their job. Are you ready to order?"

Sophia looked at me in surprise but also trying to hide more giggles.

"Uhh...yeah, we're ready," I said, unsure if I should even respond to the first part.

When I finally looked at her, I saw her face matched her dry tone. Generally, she wasn't the cheeriest sim, but something was off. Granted, I was probably the last sim she wanted to see, but she should have been over that. Something else had to be going on, and I asked if she was okay.

"What do you care? I can't do this right now. I'll send someone else."

She hurried away into the kitchen, leaving us utterly confused.

"What in the world was that?" Sophia asked. "And you unfriended her?"

"Yeah! She's been sending me mean messages ever since-"

"You broke up?"

"Would you stop with that?? She wasn't my girlfriend!"

I couldn't understand why she found this situation so amusing. It annoyed me, but her laughter was so contagious. I couldn't help but laugh, too.

"Did she look different to you?" I asked.

"Sure did. I think she's pregnant."

"Pregnant? Yasmine? No way."

"She's definitely pregnant, babe."

"How do you know? She's not showing."

"Women know these things!"

"Hmph. Some sims don't need to be parents," I said under my breath. At least I thought I did.

"Luca!"

"What? It's true. She doesn't want kids right now. And she's mean...self-absorbed... Can you imagine her raising children?"

"I mean...I don't disagree, but... It's still not a nice thing to say. Maybe taking care of someone else will be good for her."

Nice or not, I meant every word. It was hard not to get upset about it. Sims all around us kept popping up pregnant unexpectedly while Sophia and I woohoo'd each other's brains out to no avail. WE want a baby! Why won't it happen for us? It wasn't fair. But I didn't want to ruin our date with my petty, jealous thoughts. That rant would have to remain in my head.

"Anyway... You excited about moving tomorrow?"

"You know it! I can hardly believe it."

"Yeah, seriously. I've been thinking about that house for so long... I have to keep reminding myself this is real life."

My Social Bunny chime went off, so I checked to see who sent me a message.

"Oh...it's Maira."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're surprised your friend is messaging you."

"I'm not surprised. It's just...I don't know. Every time I hear from her, I feel bad."

"How come?"

"Because I'm such a bad friend to her."

Sophia's lip quivered.

"I highly doubt that."

"It's true though! I never call her. She's always the one reaching out. Even back in the day it was like that. When I was open to dating her-well, she says we did date, but whatever. I got mixed signals, so I kinda stopped putting energy into our friendship. Then I met Yasmine-"

"While you were talking to me," she said sarcastically.

Like a light switch flicking on, I understood why she continued to joke about me and Yasmine. She still felt some kind of way about realizing she wasn't the only one I was talking to, and this was her brand of petty behavior. I shook my head because I knew she would never let that go, and the jokes were a permanent part of our marriage.

"Yes, I was talking to you. I met Yasmine and Chi Chi-"

"I thought you didn't date her."

"I didn't. She came to my classes a lot and invited me to her house a few times."

She eyed me suspiciously, but I continued my story.

"Dating, having female friends, and all of that was new to me. I didn't know how to say no to her. I couldn't say no to her; you know how she is. And I was talking to you on top of dealing with my own issues... It was a crazy time, and I didn't know how to handle it all, so I ended up neglecting Maira. I feel bad because it wasn't like that in the beginning."

"You didn't have any distractions then."

"Yeah...that's true."

"Do you think it's time to let her go? Everyone's not meant to be in your life forever."

"I know. That might be part of the issue. I want to be a good friend while being respectful to you, but I honestly don't know how she fits into my life anymore. But severing the relationship? I don't think I want to do that. At least not yet."

"Okay." She turned back to her food and took a few bites before a very obvious idea let up her face. "Since we're moving now, we should do a combo celebration! We can turn my birthday party into a housewarming party! Invite her to that."

"Oooh good thinking! You know I married you for your brains."

"Ah ha! The truth comes out."

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #yasmine angel

[droughtofapathy]

"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

Cabaret

April 24, 2024 | Broadway | August Wilson Theatre | Evening | Musical | Original | 2H 45M + 1H preshow

I am kicking my feet and twirling my feet as I lovingly, tenderly, reverently carve Bebe Neuwirth's name into the Tony personally.

Bebe Neuwirth Verdict: My Soul Transcended Space and Time

A Note on Ratings

Oh. The rest of the show. Right.

Cabaret is one of the greatest pieces of musical theatre to exist. I have seen four productions of this show on multiple "levels" of production (Broadway, community, regional, etc.) The show being what it is, it seems inconceivable to ever stage a poor production of a show with such rich material. Even if the talent pool came from a small town, the music, the lyrics, the story would be so strong, so moving, so timeless, that nothing coupled possibly ruin it.

I was wrong.

The fifth Broadway revival of this beloved Kander and Ebb musical is a stagnant spectacle whose price tag seems to actively encourage its potential audience to pick up their knitting, their book, and their broom, because the holiday of the Kit Kat Club is only meant for the rich denizens of society. Helmed by a director with no prior experience in musical theatre, the show fundamentally mistrusts its audience's intelligence and the once-masterful subtext is now about as subtle as a brick through a fruit shop window.

It's a bad sign when the security staffer at the entrance line tells you the design is excellent, the visuals are excellent, "the show is...good," with pointed hesitation and eyebrow raising. What would we do without New York honesty?

Under this new "immersive" direction, patrons enter through a seedy back alley door (with too many steps, which granted, they did warn me about before and I should have listened) and into a massive three-story club design with pre-show entertainment and drinks galore. With limited seating and rather underwhelming acts, my disabled ass went to my seat in the theatre instead where the whole auditorium has been gutted and renovated to create a theatre-in-the-round setup that ultimately does not suit the staging. Instead, actors play primarily to the "east" side, leaving the "west" to see a lot of backs throughout.

As characters, the Emcee and Sally are deranged, clownish, and utterly devoid of layers and complexity. They are exactly what their outlandish costumes, garish makeup, and overwrought performances say they are: too much. Eddie Redmayne is going for some kind of demonic muppet clown portrayal. This interpretation fails to do what the character is meant to do. Seduce, entice, enchant, all of which can be done in a morbid or even unsettling way, but Redmayne only ever irritates and repels. Similarly, Sally is an easy character to misunderstand. She's seemingly vapid, ignorant, and concerned with nothing more than having a good time. She's a character on the verge, but only ever on the verge. Too often I have seen performers act out the titular song as a full-blown breakdown. It is not. It is a triumph. It is a discordant celebration as the rest of the show falls into despair. In directing all of Sally's numbers to be as hysterical, unhinged, and off-putting as they are, it's clear the director, the producers, and to an extent, the actress who went along with it, do not understand this character, this story, this world. Less is more. Trust the material. Trust the audience.

Cabaret is a racy show with plenty of lewd and lascivious content. But this production takes the graphic nature to an extreme that ultimately misses the mark. Instead of a seductive coaxing, or even a morbid eroticism, we're granted such overt choreography (a man jerks off a giant black phallus into a woman's mouth, a woman mimes raining her tit milk all over a man's face, a woman graphically masturbates to Mein Kampf) that it becomes a juvenile display. Like children who make sexual jokes to be edgy, but only ever sound immature. It's off-putting, it's annoying, it's dull. There are multiple rewrites to the "Willkommen" introduction schtick, and the new lines are such a downgrade.

There are moments of relief amidst the spectacle that somehow still lacks spectacle. Bebe Neuwirth is a wonder of wonders, and her chemistry with Steven Skybell as Herr Schultz is a miracle of miracles. They are the saving grace of this monstrosity. Age, experience, and deep connection to the writers and the show give their performances a joyous, heartbreaking, beautiful tone. They are real, they are grounded, and they will shatter your heart. These scenes are the only places the director shows she's capable, perhaps because she has only ever done dramatic straight plays. The decision to stage "Married" as a trio with Kost spot-lit and singing in tandem was simple and brilliant and poignant. The way this show is meant to be. "What Would You Do?" is staged perhaps a little oddly, given the director's inability to remember she's doing an in-the-round show, but Bebe's rendition is the best I've ever experienced. I have heard this song sung beautiful by stronger singers, many who still grasp the acting well, but none hold a candle to her. This is a woman who has torn out her own beating heart from her chest as she chooses safety and self-preservation, even if it breaks her. This is a woman who is old and tired and not brave. Who has been given this one moment of happiness in her life and she has no choice but to saw it off like a gangrened limb before it poisons her entire body. Schultz and Schneider are the heart of this show. They deserve better.

It's been said by others, but the issues with this production seems to stem from its creative team's fundamental misunderstanding of Jewish culture. The show was written by three Jewish men who understood what was at stake. They had all lived through WWII. This is a production with a distinctly English tone, directed by gentiles, for gentiles. Broadway and New York, more familiar with Judaism than perhaps the West End, clearly received this revival differently.

Final Verdict: A Long Slog to Curtains

A Note on Ratings

#cabaret broadway #broadway #musical theatre #welcome to the theatre: diary of a broadway baby #bebe neuwirth #if i were a tenant of her building i'd be showering her with the finest fruits in all of berlin every day