all right so. another thing i wrote ages ago finally making its way to tumblr because kytheon @mythandral brainrot too strong this morning. this is set the morning after an orgy lmao so there's like, some oblique references to that - nothing explicit, but putting it under a cut anyway.
When the world came back into focus, Ariadne realized she didn’t actually know where she was. She was tucked into a corner of a couch, someone else’s robes draped over her like a blanket. She was naked beneath the robes, which didn’t surprise her based on the last few memories of last night she still held, but looking around the dim room, she could see she wasn’t the only one. She recognized some of her friends, their limbs wound tightly around each other as they slept, and smiled weakly, recalling another round of brief memories of the previous night. Her headache was better than it could have been, all things considered. Her other senses slowly became sharper: she smelled coffee. She stretched her sore limbs and climbed into the robes, finding them much longer than her own would have been, then lifted the hem to step around still-sleeping bodies to follow the siren call of caffeine.
The smell led her to a small, sparsely equipped kitchen with large, open windows. It was so bright, especially in comparison to the room she wandered in from. A red-haired man, adorned with braids and jewelry, sat at a small table covered by an assortment of empty, mis-matched mugs and glasses huddled around a pitcher of steaming coffee. He was shirtless, covered in tattoos and piercings, and absolutely at ease here, awake and alert.
“Morning!” Kytheon called brightly, setting his mug down.
“Urghhh,” Ariadne groaned in response, sitting down beside him. He poured another mug of coffee for her and slid it toward her. She took a hesitant sip, closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly. When she opened her eyes again, they fixed on a bright blue grouping of triangles freshly tattooed onto the back of Kytheon’s shoulder. She reached out, her fingers tracing around the triangles, but not touching the ink itself. “These are new.”
“Ha! You were fawning over them last night, too.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about them again, now that I’m sober. Though… maybe after coffee.” They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, listening to morning bird song and the soft snores of their friends from the other room.
“I wanted to mention,” Kyth began, breaking their brief vigil, “I’ve seen your work out there. It’s thriving, doing things I would never have expected of a plant.”
“They’re not plants. They’re something else entirely,” she huffed.
“All right,” he laughed. “Either way, you should see them. Come out with me some time, get some sun on your skin. It’ll be fun, I promise.” Her shoulders fell slightly, as she pulled her borrowed robes closer around herself.
“Hmph. Maybe. If I can find the time,” she stammered, trying to find a quick excuse. Kyth reached out, briefly squeezing her hand in his.
“No pressure.”
“No pressure,” she repeated, turning the words in her mind.
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Patronizing Amaurotine: “I must say, little one…those garments you’re wearing. They are your own original concepts, I take it? Clearly they must be, given their rather… singular flamboyance. I would never dream of stifling a fledgling creator’s creativity, but to parade about in your cultivated individuality is hardly praiseworthy. An Amaurotine of character shares their creations with the community ─ they do not hoard them for their use alone.
To delight in disparity is a mark of the morally deficient. Disparity engenders feelings of want and resentment, which degrade the bonds of fellowship. Thus do we encourage creators to share and share alike, else we risk kindling the embers of covetousness and violence that ever smolder in the hearts of all.”
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Men behave worse when they outnumber women. Put a woman alone in a meeting with four men, and 70 per cent of the interruptions she receives from men are negative. Turn it round so that you have four women and one man in the room: just 20 per cent of the interruptions women receive from men are negative. As the study says, when women predominate, 'Men undergo a drastic change. They become far less aggressive.'
Even very small boys - aged between three and a half and five - interrupt girls twice as often as the little girls interrupt them. Parents also interrupt daughters more often than sons, creating a pattern of behaviour in their children: the boys see that it is legitimate to interrupt girls and girls learn to expect it. This is setting children the example of the authority gap at such an impressionable age. It is iniquitous, but parents probably don't even realize they are doing it.
– Mary Ann Sieghart (2021) The Authority Gap: Why Women are Still Taken Less Seriously Than Men and What We Can Do About It, p. 63.
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“I can’t believe Tom Cruise of all people would stand up for his agent, a Muslim Libyan-American woman, who was being publicly blacklisted for her support of Palestine and calling out the ongoing genocide, including making a rare in-person appearance to CAA headquarters in LA to express his support for her. What a strange person who can ever guess what opinions he will have.”
Look. I’ve studied Tom Cruise a lot. One could even call me a Cruisologist. (Not to be confused with. Well.) And, it’s actually really easy to predict Tom Cruise’s opinion on something. The tricky part is whether it will be made public in a timely manner or not and, if it’s made public at all, will it be a lede buried in favor of pushing a narrative sold on background by a studio exec he pissed off because he didn’t roll over and take their bullshit.
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