#lesson six - cultural awareness

[respectthepetty]

Reading the (Visual) Rainbow 101

Lesson 6 - Cultural Awareness

Because I get so many asks about colors, I decided the best way to celebrate Pride is to educate anyone who is interested in how to better Read the (Visual) Rainbow and simultaneously allow myself to appreciate queer media.

With each lesson, we've been working through how to read visual messages, but what if the message is in another language, literally or figuratively? What happens when you Just. Don't. Get. It?

This will be the toughest lesson because it requires active engagement with the media you consume, so let's get to work!

Basics

Ethnocentrism is the practice of evaluating other cultures based on the expectations of your culture. When you do this, you misinterpret messages and place value on concepts that aren't important to that culture.

Cultural Literacy is the capability to understand one's culture as well as others while appreciating the similarities and differences.

Way back in Lesson 1, rhetorical situations were mentioned. Within a rhetorical situation, we must think about the work's creator and its intended audience because sometimes, the intended audience isn't YOU and you cannot relate to the creator. So what do you do?

All of the video examples I have suggested up until now are from American artists or artists whose country predominantly speaks English. Language and culture are closely connected, but language isn't the only aspect of culture. However, for time's sake, think about how not knowing a language hinders us from understanding a culture. If we can't understand what people are saying (literally), we won't understand what they are trying to say (figuratively).

Which means we have to actively investigate the media we consume.

Video Examples

Much like Hayley Kiyoko's "She" music video, where we needed to understand the cultural reference for "This Coke is a Fanta" to understand its purpose within the video, the two videos suggested in the previous lesson require cultural understanding. Both were from cishet men yet dealt with trans rights, but if you were unfamiliar with the cultural context, you probably missed it.

Sweden

Avicii's "Silhouette" is a song about progress and self-realization. The video reflects this. We see a masc-presenting person wake up in the morning. The video shifts to a fem-presenting person waking up later in the day. The transition between cool lighting to warm lighting lets us know this isn't simply a difference in day or two different people, but an evolution of ONE person, a concept we learned in Lesson 2. We see similar bottles next to the clocks, with two additions later in the day.

If you didn't realize these characters are the same person, go back and notice the use of red. While the first person is being operated on, we see red blood mixed with shots of the second person in red.

So how is this about trans right? We can see it is about a trans woman, but we have to think about the rhetorical situation to understand the rest.

The creator is Avicii who was a Swedish DJ and producer. The audience would be other Swedes. In 2012, when the video was released, the Swedish government debated whether to amend its transgender laws. The most significant being forced sterilization, which was a requirement if a person underwent gender affirmation surgery. A person also had to be unmarried. People were loud about this.

In the video, right before the masc-presenting person is about to undergo surgery, the song stops as the older doctor's CD player begins to skip. He hits the player several times while cursing, "Does it have to be so fucking difficult?"

When the song comes back on, the lyrics pick back up at:

Straight ahead on the path we have before us Day by day, soon the change will come Don't you know we took a big step forward Just lead the way and we pull the trigger And we will never get back to To the old school To the old rounds, it's all about the newfound We are the newborn, the world knew all about us (We are the future and we're here to stay) We've come a long way since that day And we will never look back, at the faded silhouette

If you weren't a Swede in 2012, you probably missed how significant this video was, and it's because you don't understand most of the context in which is was made (rhetorical situation) since you weren't the intended audience.

Puerto Rico

The other suggested video was Bad Bunny's "Yo Perreo Sola" which translates to "I twerk alone." It's a feminist anthem about a woman not wanting to be harassed while dancing by herself rather than for the attention of men. However, it's also about trans rights.

We begin the video with Bad Bunny as a fem-presenting character in red with X's in the doorway. We see him in various scenes like the pink room surrounded by pink flowers and chained up by women as he continues to push against the ideas of masculinity.

All are important, but the most significant is the scene where his two characters meet and dance with each other.

The neon signs read "Las Mujeres Mandan" (women rule) and "Ni Una Menos" (not one *woman* less). These two signs are layered historical messages.

The first started as the title of an old Mexican movie about a man who left his wife and kids for his mistress (shenanigans follow), but the famous Mexican musician Paquita la del Barrio popularized the saying by turning it into a feminist anthem about demanding respect from men. It's on the level of Aretha Franklin's "Respect."

The second sign is a fourth-wave feminist saying popularized in Argentina regarding femicide and other gender-based violence. Its message demands that not one more woman be the victim of this violence.

Now, to start connecting the dots: Bad Bunny is Puerto Rican. His audience would be other Puerto Ricans and, largerly, Spanish-speakers in Latin American countries. That's a lot of people who understand these two messages. But also, Bad Bunny placing himself as a feminine character emphasizes that trans women are included in these messages. Trans women are women, so they too rule, and we should also be concerned for their safety. This video was his way of commenting on the murder of Alexa Negrón Luciano, a Puerto Rican trans woman.

The murder rate for trans individual is high in PR, especially for trans women. A month after releasing this video, two Puerto Rican men were charged with the murders of two trans women. Puerto Rico is a United States' territory; therefore, it abides by US federal laws, yet this was the FIRST time Puerto Rico charged a person with a hate crime. Advocates have long been vocal about the need for change and should not be brushed aside, but having an internationally famous musician approach the topic helped people see the need for this type of law, but if you weren't the intended audience, you might have simply believed his video to be a fun journey through gender expression and gender performance.

What can you do?

Because most of us are watching our favorite shows with English subtitles, we tend to associate what is happening on our screen with our culture, but we must always remember, for a majority of us, this isn't our culture; therefore we must be aware of the disconnect. Awareness is the first step. Education is the second.

For example, Thai shows might include coordinated colored outfits because Thai culture associates certain colors with days of the week. Depending on the day of the week, there is a good and a bad color to wear. Make a mental note of it, and you'll start noticing it in other shows.

A show might mention a historical event or a holiday in passing that the intended audience would understand, but as an outsider, you might know nothing about. Look it up!

Or the show might touch on current events like unarmed protestors being beaten and arrested. LOOK! IT! UP!

There is no easy way to gain knowledge. Media is a great way to be exposed to other cultures, but you have to be willing to do a little extra work and actually learn about the culture and the issues you are seeing depicted on your screen.

It can be as simple as looking up a book shown.

Or what the characters are eating.

If you want to be a better reader of the visual rainbow, you have to look up cultural references you are unfamiliar with. You don't have to know everything, but you should be curious enough to look up something because you are watching a visual form of media from another country, and the visuals are important to the overall story.

Activity

Watch both videos and notice their similarities and differences. Note any symbolic objects and, of course, the colors.

Lady Gaga x Ariana Grande "Rain On Me" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AoAm4om0wTs

Naomi Watanabe x Yuriyan Retriever "Rain On Me" parody - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psSdawz69kc

See you for Lesson 6 - It Could All Mean Nothing!

#Reading the (Visual) Rainbow #lesson six - cultural awareness

[psychologeek]

Holocaust (and culture appropriation)

(TW: holocaust, death camps, sexual assaults, rape, industrial murder. I will put the graphic shit undercut. Include children death and human experiments).

Sometimes I think about how fucked up it is that for most non-jews (and some jews) "The Holocaust" is Anne Frank and Auschwitz "where they killed people".

I think about the fucking, the goddamn AUDACITY some people have to take our trauma and use it as a tool. As a lesson.

People that for them the holocaust is nothing but a story, a bunch of facts, probably as aware of it as they're aware of the crusaders.

(Once upon a time, in a far away land, there were Troubles)

People who didn't hear about it as children, who didn't grew up with six million and one-and-a-half million and yellow stars and quiet ceremony and Yizkor (remember).

That.

Would look at a pile of hats and bones and wigs and hair and make it about them.

But also

Sometimes I think about how wild it is, that this looks so horrific to them.

(And they never heard about half of it.)

Like.

Dear.

Deary.

We are used to death. We are so used to being murdered, and loosing loved ones by hate, that half of our culture is basically based on it.

I think about how non-jews keep talking about the holocaust, like it's a clean cut, like it's a thing that was, like it's that's all that was - there were people hiding, and there were gas chambers, and that's it.

And I remember being a kid (maybe 10 yo?) reading a kid/ya book that was an autobiography, and I remember the writer (who was a young teen at the time, and pretended to be a Christian German) wrote about someone came into the shower and touched him. (Writer) Panicked, and turned around - and then the other man asked him "wait- are you jewish?"

As a kid, I remember that this is all that was in it.

As an adult, I remember that scene, sometimes. And I can have a pretty clear idea on why the older man didn't tell about the kid.

I remember, several years ago, reading about a therapy group for holocaust survivors that were sexually assaulted.

I remember reading about an old lady, that (70 years later) told about what happened to her when she hide away with her sister, (I think they were two, or three girls?) she was sixteen, or maybe fourteen. I remember

"I did it so they'll share their food with us".

~

I think about people talking about the "death camp" Auschwitz, and how someone said (those who went there, were the lucky ones. When the newbies asked what happened, where are their families? We just pointed at the burning chimneys of Birkenau ,and the smoke.)

~

I remember the HUNDREDS who died once the camps were "freed", because they didn't know the dangers of eating two pieces of bread after a long period of starving.

I remember the massive Jewish community of Poland that was just. Erased. 99% of 3 million population pre-war. Whole communities we only remember and mention as the community's name (and even that is a very long list.)

I remember how people remember it as "German jews" (and some Poland) - but it's not. My grandma had cousins in Debretsen, Hungary. And it's Ukraine and France and Morocco and Greece and Lybia and Lithuania and Latvia and almost everywhere in Europe and North Africa

(except for Denmark. we love Denmark. My grandad's step-grandma survived there. She immigrated to her family in Israel after that.)

~

Idk if Goyim ever heard about Mangele. I wonder, how many of them heard during their childhood about:

The eye experiments, where he injected serums in people's (living) eyes, to see what would happen?

His obsession about twins. The toddlers that got their back skinned, then stitched together in "to see what will happen".

(They died after four days of misery.)

#holocaust #jewish history #goyim can reblog #but not add #except Roma #many tw #auschwitz birkenau #we don't talk about Sobibor #i guess #or babi yar #or the way survivors were murdered when they tried to go back home #Goyim be like “oh you don't learn from the holocaust” #well actually #we did #we learn that we'll always be haunted and killed #that there'll always be a new excuse to kill us #we were called communists in the USA and in the USSR we were called capitalists

[kaysfanficcorner]

Out of This World Chapter 8:

Island in the Suns

Author’s Note: The bitch is back! My life’s been a little topsy turvy as of late so this chapter took me way longer to finish than originally anticipated. My schedule is about to change, but worry not as I fully intend to ride this story out until the ending I have planned out. Also, I may start doing little one shots set in this universe. So keep an eye out for those! As I said before, this story is going to be spicy from chapter 7 forward so be prepared!

Mando’a phrases:

Ad’ika - little one Aliit - Family Jate Ca - Goodnight Jate Vaar’tur - Good morning Yooba solus mesh’la, ner cyare - You are beautiful, my beloved

Summary: The relationship between the Mandalorian and the Earthling blossoms as they make their way to Tatooine in search of the mysterious Mandalorian last seen in Mos Pelgo. Once on the infamous desert planet, the plot thickens.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Female Earthling Reader/oc

Warnings: Cursing, FLUFF! SMUT! 🌶️ If you are under the age of 18, you are prohibited from this work of fiction.

Music Inspiration:

Island in the Sun - Not really an inspiration aside from the chapter title, but this song just makes me think of Tatooine

Aerials - Mentioned in the chapter thanks to a conversation with @missbabyjay

AO3

Art at the end of the chapter by my love, Justin Wood

*****

Din Djarin is seated alone in the pilot’s seat of the Razor Crest, setting a course for a nearby star port to refuel again as he gazes upon on the vast star field before him. Because of your presence aboard his ship and the childlike wonder with which you still treat life in space after all these months, Din has gained a newfound appreciation for the beauty this galaxy has to offer. Every so often, Din now takes a moment to stop and admire his surroundings rather than go about his business without paying it much mind. Among all of things you’ve brought to his life and the ways you’ve changed him for the better, that is surely one of his favorites.

Gor Koresh had practically been on the other side of the galaxy from Tatooine, so the planet of sand and sun is still nearly two weeks away, even with the speed of hyperspace aiding in the Razor Crest’s travels. It’s been six days since the fight in Koresh’s arena, and since he’d consummated his romantic connection to you. In those six days, the parameters of the relationship have changed dramatically. 

There’s no longer any need to pretend that this isn’t a real thing anymore. Neither of you is concerned with timid behavior or caution in the way you address one another as both companions and lovers. Din feels proud to have you openly be by his side in that way, and you seem to be over the moon with the fact. The kid also seems to be on board with this, acting happier than usual around the two adults in charge of his care. You take the concept of belonging to one another very passionately, which Din admires a great deal. Loyalty is the most attractive attribute to a Mandalorian such as him. 

As your daily training continues on, Din is aware that the reverence you display for his lessons has increased exponentially. He hasn’t caught you daydreaming about something in the middle of an explanation once, which is something he used to catch you doing all the time. It never really used to bother him before, but the increased displays of character mean a lot to him. Because of this you’re also improving, and that in it of itself fills Din with so much pride for you. Keeping up while lightly sparring with him is something you hadn’t been able to do up to this point, and now you seem to hold your own against him quite well. Din still has much to teach you, but your progress is undeniable.

Seeing how seriously you take the act of learning about his culture, Din has decided to take equal steps in learning about yours. He’s been asking you to teach him more things about Earth, and he’s taken to using your personal device more often.

You dote on him even more now, treating him with the utmost affection as you constantly offer to do little things for him. Usually he declines your offers, all except for one. You like to bring him a mid day caf without being prompted almost daily, and he’s come to look forward to the ritual of it. Sitting in the pilot seat at the correct time (even if he has nothing ship related to do), hearing the cockpit door swish open, feeling your hand rest upon his shoulder, the cup of caf coming into view as you lower it in front of him, and finally, the kiss you place upon his beskar covered head. It’s the same each day, and you always whisper something sweet about him before you continue on with whatever it is you’re up to. Nothing makes him feel more loved. He’s been on his own for most of his life, and not a single person has ever wanted to take care of him in the way that you do. 

Then there’s the matter of sex. 

Din physically cannot get enough of you, just as you cannot seem to get enough of him. The two of you have stayed up well past the child each night, spending a few hours together up in the cockpit enjoying each others bodies. As soon as the child is tucked away in the cot, Din is practically tearing the clothes from your body and the helmet from his head, ready to feel your walls clench around him and taste you on his lips once more. As the days go on he starts to slowly learn what makes you tick, and vice versa. Getting to know your sexuality quite intimately is something Din has begun to treasure. Aside from Xi’an, which was only a few times, this is the most he’s ever had sex with one person. The most he’s ever gotten to know another’s body so intimately, and vice versa. 

On the second night, you’d been the one to put the child to bed and Din had used the opportunity to strip down to just his helmet. The way you reacted to his naked form waiting in the pilot seat, legs spread with your blindfold already in his hands, is a reaction he’ll cherish for many years to come. 

On the third, it had been you who stripped down to nothing and waited in the pilot seat with your legs spread. One hand playing idly with one of your nipples while the other slid two fingers into your slick entrance, you’d made desperate little noises and begged him to take care of you. Hyperspace whirling behind you, it had truly been a sight to behold.

The theme of the fourth night had been exploration, when you’d grabbed his hand and brought it to your throat before begging him to choke you a little bit. Din was amazed by the reaction it caused in you, eyes rolling back in your head as your muscles clamped around him in mini bursts of intense pleasure. He’d been a little worried at first, but you seemed to adore the feeling of your air supply being partially cut off as he thrust into you at full force. The strangled noises you made had been indication enough, let alone how much you’d soaked him. Your entire body convulsed and twitched until he could tell you’d had enough and gently pulled his hand away. Then in a moment wanting to fulfill his own sexual fantasies, he’d grabbed the cuffs from his utility belt and asked for your permission to use them on you. With a gorgeously deviant smile playing at your lips, you’d agreed to this and Din could tell that he’d uncovered a similar dark desire within you.

The fifth night had been more loving and soft than the rough neediness of the night before. Both participants seemed to be in the mood to treat each other’s bodies with delicacy, gently bringing pleasure through the act of admiring one another. Dirty talk on that night sounded more like showers of doting compliments rather than lewd remarks and lustful demands. You’d declared to him in basic that you loved him so sincerely while at the peak of an orgasm, that Din know’s he’d been blushing. Heat in his cheeks and fluttering in his belly were unmistakable.

After you’ve had more than enough of each other, the two of you will retreat down to what Din now considers to be your shared bed. Cramped as it may be, there is no “taking turns” in the cot anymore. The two of you have slept in it together every night. The kid almost always makes his way down from his hammock to snuggle with the two of you. As much as it still scares him to admit it, the three of you truly do feel like a family. 

The only real problem with this current schedule, is that neither adult has been getting enough sleep. You in particular do not seem to be handling the lack of rest well, having looked so worn out during caf this morning that Din feels as if perhaps tonight a break will be in order. It would probably do the both of you better to just get a good night of sleep.

Din suddenly hears the familiar little sound of his foundling saying something that sounds like  “patu” from behind him, and he swivels the pilot’s seat fully expecting to see you standing there with the child in your arms. His gaze is pointed upwards, so when he doesn’t see you at all he tilts his head down to see that the child is standing in the center of the cockpit all alone. 

“Hey ad’ika, you okay? Did you climb up here all by yourself?”

The kid looks both unsettled and unwell, which raises the alarms in Din’s head. A small green hand reaches back to point to the door he just came in from and he makes another little “patu” sound. 

“Show me what’s wrong, buddy,” Din says as he rises from the chair, scooping the kid up in his arms.

Making his way down to the deck below the cockpit, Din can hear the unmistakable sound of your voice as it groans in pain. Tucked in his arm, the kid looks up at Din with worry in his dark eyes as he points again. This time he points to the fresher. 

Din’s eyes flick to that direction, where he finds you laying on the floor beside the toilet. Your eyes are open and you’re holding your stomach as you curl up on your side, face scrunched in discomfort.

Din puts the kid on a crate and comes to kneel beside you. “Cyar’ika? What’s wrong?”

“Sick,” you grumble out, face contorting as if struck by a sharp pain.

“Sick how?” 

“Fever, and I just threw up breakfast.”

“Shit,” Din curses, ripping a glove off and moving to place his hand on your damp forehead. Your skin is on fire. “When did this start?”

Struggling, you prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. “When we woke up. My head was pounding and something didn’t feel right.” 

“Sounds like a stomach flu of some variety,” Din says matter of factly. You look at him with a shocked expression before laughing, and under the helmet his brow raises in surprise. “Why’s that funny?”

“I just figured you’d have a cooler name for it here. Ugh,” you stop to groan again, clutching at your belly, “I feel like ass.” 

“I’m sure you do.” Din chuckles a little when you glare at him, “What? I’m just acknowledging your pain.” 

“Make it go away,” you plead miserably. 

He feels truly bad for you, brushing the hair from your eyes as he cups your cheek. “I can give you bacta pills, but I’m worried you won’t be able to keep them down.”

“Yeah I don’t know if I can keep anything down right now.” 

Just as you say this, the kid makes a pained little noise from where Din left him, and the Mandalorian turns his head just in time to watch the kid vomit a sickly orange color all over the floor. He looks up at Din with weary eyes, wobbling until he falls back on his little bottom. Then he starts to cry.  

“Shit,” Din curses again, “If both of you have this it’s probably contagious.” 

“Go comfort him,” you say, “I’ll be okay for a moment.”

So Din moves over to the wailing green child, scooping him up to cradle him over the beskar chest plate. “Shh,” he soothes, “I’m here buddy. I know it hurts, but I’m here and I’ll take good care of you.” 

The child then looks up into Din’s hidden eyes and lets out a little sob before clinging to his foster father’s shoulder as hard as he possibly can. A fatherly feeling of warmth washes over Din Djarin, and his overwhelmed heart encapsulates this child so completely that his brown eyes fill with tears behind the beskar. Seeing his foundling like this, sickly and in pain, is heart wrenching.

And so Din makes quick work of making up what is essentially a sick room on the first floor of the ship. He gets a small bucket and sets it up for the kid to throw up in, then he sets up a comfortable little space for the two of you to lay together on the floor. Not wanting to risk either of you getting sick in the cot, he figures that the floor is probably the best option for now.

Once the two of you are as comfortable as you can be, he gets each of you water and insists that once the liquid can be kept down for a half hour he’ll give out doses of bacta pills. After treatment is given, the symptoms will be gone in two hours and the illness itself should completely go away within a twelve hour period.

At first you can’t even keep a sip of water down for longer than two minutes, rushing for the fresher as soon as the bile in your throat rises once again. Din rubs small circles into your back as you dry heave and cry. The kid can’t keep it down either, so Din spends a good part of his day rushing back and forth between the two of you as you each take turns vomiting up the minuscule contents of your respective stomachs.

The vomiting eventually starts to slow down to a halt, so he’s got you both laying down with cold compresses on each of your foreheads. The kid shivers so violently in the throws of his fever that Din decides to stick him in the shower under cold water for a few minutes. Poor little guy seems to be getting the worst of whatever this sickness is, possibly due to the difference in species or his young age. Afterwards Din has him wrapped up in a towel, cradling the child lovingly as he hums a Mandalorian chant. 

“Quit fussing over me,” you say as you later throw back the bacta pills, chasing them with a generous sip of water, “I’m an adult, Din. I’ll be fine after these kick in and I go to sleep. Take care of our sweet little boy. I appreciate you so much, but he needs you more than I do right now.’ 

Soon enough you’re passed out in the cot, and Din is left alone with the sick little child in his arms. Redressed, full of bacta, and wrapped up in the blanket, the kid is also finally starting to fall asleep. 

“I’m so glad that you came into my life, ad’ika,” Din finds himself whispering to the sleepy child, “You’ve changed me for the better, kid. No matter what happens, I want you to know how important you are to me.”

The child seems to understand this, smiling up at him as his huge eyes slip closed. A little hand reaches out, so Din lets him hold onto his bare index finger until he falls asleep. Once the kid is out cold, Din gently places him next to you inside the cot. Sitting on the ground just outside of the open sleeping chamber, Din finally feels his shoulders begin to relax. Jupiter appears out of nowhere then, jumping into his lap to rub her neck along the beskar on Din’s chest as she purrs. Scooping her up, Din takes comfort in the vibrations of her purring while she lets him hold her and stroke at her head.

And then Din feels it. Chills all over his body, and waves of nausea low in his belly. The back of his throat starts to heat up, mouth watering. In record time Din is closing himself in the fresher, tearing the helmet from his head as he curses, “dank farrik,” before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

*****

A few days later, once everyone is no longer sick aboard the Space RV, you find yourself examining your naked form in the fresher after taking a quick shower. Training with Din had been particularly vigorous today, and the need for hot water on your skin was completely necessary. You felt great going from what was essentially a hard workout session to a what was about to be a relaxing shower, but you when you caught a glimpse of your reflection while undressing, something in you shifted. You can’t get it out of your head enough to enjoy the heat and the steam, so once you’re out and clean you wipe down the fogged up mirror for another glimpse at yourself. 

Moving towards the mirror above the sink, you frown at your body’s reflection. Swiveling to examine your thighs and ass, your gaze starts shifting up to your stomach, and then to your breasts. You stop there for a moment and feel them, wondering why in the hell a man like Din Djarin finds them so attractive. Why he finds any part of you attractive. 

Leaning forward, you take a good look at your face. Poking here and here, pushing your cheeks up before dragging them back down under your palms. Smiling, frowning, sighing. Then your hands move to the still purple hair atop your head, a little longer now that many weeks have past since you’d gotten it cut. You’d wanted to change your look drastically, almost as if in some way to erase the version of you from before. Now you’re used to the alteration, but a part of you worries that the dramatic shift in appearance had been a mistake. Do you actually look as good as you thought you did or had that been in your head?

It’s not lost on you that your period is only about a day or two around the corner. Your breasts are sore, you’d felt as much just a moment ago, and your body feels incredibly bloated. Weighed down, even. The sudden change in mood after a good day is also a major indication.

“Ugh, just get over it and move on. You’ll feel better once you start to bleed,” you say to yourself quietly. This isn’t the first time that a long bout of confidence has been rivaled by the hormones of your monthly cycle, and you know that listening to your own advice is the best bet. Reaching for your change of clothes, you find that they are not hanging on the hook that you usually use. Looking around the room, its quite obvious that you’d forgotten to bring anything to change into with you to the fresher. 

“Fucking seriously?” You mutter, irritated as you begin to wrap up in a towel. As the moments tick on you are growing increasingly annoyed by your own presence. 

The fresher door slides open when you hit the little control pad to the right harder than you mean to, hissing as you shake your hand and poke your head out of the passageway. Coast clear, you rush over to where you keep your clothes in a compartment by the cot and start rummaging around for something comfortable to wear. 

“What are you doing?” 

The Mandalorian���s voice is suddenly behind you and you jump, nearly dropping the towel all together. The last thing you want is him to see you naked while you feel so uncomfortable. 

“I forgot my clothes,” you say awkwardly, not turning around to face him just yet. You even pretend to pick through the small amount of clothing you own for an extra few moments after finding what you want to wear. 

“Are you okay, Cyar’ika?” Din moves in closer to you, so you finally turn to face him.

Standing there looking as he always does in his beskar armor, which is handsome as hell, you feel even less confident. “I’ll be fine,” you say, avoiding his gaze. Even though you can’t see it, you know it’s fixed upon you.

“Something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes,” he says confidently, looking you over. 

Feeling him look you up and down makes your skin want to crawl right off of your skeleton. “I’m fine,” you repeat, firmly this time. 

Din then says your name in a vulnerable tone, “I don’t think you are. Have I transgressed in some way?” 

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then please let me help.” 

“I’ll just go get dressed.” You try to push past him and he stops you with an arm out. He’s careful not to touch you, at least that’s how it comes across. 

Din’s voice shifts octaves as he speaks to you very tenderly. There is no firmness to the tone, only gentle support from your partner. “We do not pull away from one another, remember? We talk about it.” 

Damn him for quoting you back to yourself, because once he says that you realize that he’s completely right. If you expect him not to shut you out then you owe him the same courtesy. With a great sigh, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again as you tell him, “I don’t feel very attractive right now.” 

“Huh?” Din says, clearly confused. 

“I feel gross and unattractive,” you say, using additional language to further your statement along.

“But you are neither of those things,” he replies matter of factly, tilting his head. 

“Ugh,” you groan as this back and forth becomes tedious, “I didn’t say I was. I said I feel like I am.”

Din’s silence worries you for the prolonged moment that it exists, and then he surprises you with the commanding tone he occasionally uses during sex, “Take the towel off.” 

“What? Why? Where’s the kid?”

“Sleeping upstairs,” Din answers quickly, “Let it drop, and let me remind you that you are ner mesh’la.” 

“I’m not in the mood for that,” you say firmly.

“This is not about sex. This is about worship,” Din matches your firmness.

After a moment of hesitation, the towel drops from your person. Being in the main living space of the Razor Crest like this feels alien. It feels even stranger when Din slides the gloves from his hands and moves to stand in front of you. His fingertips gently rest upon the curves where your shoulders end and your arms begin. Instinctively, a hand starts to reach up for him and he shakes his head.

“Hands down. Chin up. Eyes on me.” Din adjusts you to stand a little straighter, better posture in your neck as you look at him. A finger comes to rest under your chin as you position your eyes to look directly into the black visor. In your mind you’re trying to imagine the brown eyes on the other side of the beskar barrier, locking onto them.

The pads of his fingertips being to gently sweep over your skin, touching all over as he makes his way around your upper half. It feels so good and you’re barely being touched. Lids trying to slip closed as little sparks of pleasure find you, a shudder runs through your body. Through every sensation, you keep your eyes locked on him.

Din leans in slightly, brushing beskar against your forehead. “Tell me something you don’t like about yourself, and I will tell you why I love it.”

And so you do. You run over the entire list of things you’ve had a problem with since your teen years. Superficial little things that don’t truly matter or take away from your natural beauty, but things you wish you could change nonetheless. Din responds to each of these small grievances by ghosting his hands over the area, describing what about it he finds so endearing. 

By the end of this worshiping of your form, Din is again standing at full height with his hands on your shoulders. His left hand slides down your right arm, taking your hand and moving it towards his tented groin.

Before you can say anything, the Mandalorian quells any worries of his intentions, “I do not wish to do anything, but I want you to feel what you do to me. Feel how much my body yearns to be connected to yours. Yooba solus mesh’la, ner cyare.” 

His hardness beneath your hand causes none of the heat to rise in your core or wanting in your mind. It serves it’s intended purpose, to solidify everything that Din just said to you. Every compliment, every kind remark. All for you and all real. Tangible. So many emotions flood your system after such an experience, and you feel even more spent than you would if you’d had sex with him after all. Leaning most of your weight onto him, it feels like you may collapse if he were to move away from you. Cramps are starting to swell down in your belly, waves of pain and physical exhaustion rolling through you.

“Thank you, ner burc’ya. Have I told you that you’re my favorite person?” 

“Not in those exact words,” Din sounds so playful, and your heart swells for him.

“Oh,” tittering, you turn your head so that your mouth is positioned right under the edge of his helmet, “Well, you’re my favorite person, Din Djarin.”

“Mm,” Din’s hum greets your ears, sounding almost like it does when you’re blindfolded because of how close you are to the lip of beskar. 

Then a small little panic attack tries to break through the sense of calm Din just helped you achieve, body quivering. “I really need my best friend right now. What you just did helped, but I’m still not okay.” 

With his metal clad forehead pressed to your bare one, Din offers little shushing noises of comfort, “I’m here. I’ve got you. Get dressed, let me go get the kid, and I will hold you in our bed.” 

*****

The following week it finally occurs to you why things with Din are so different to you. You’re mulling this over during the morning caf routine, mixing the bitter but sweet hot beverage as you think about how it feels like things between the two of you are moving incredibly fast.  Din’s treating you as if you’ve been together for a significant amount of time. Like a spouse, one might say. Oddly enough, you conclude that you’re also very okay with it. 

That’s when it hits you. It’s because on Earth you would have had to jump through all of the awkward, uncomfortable hoops of dating before a relationship would have ever progressed this far. Months worth of time, if not more, would have been spent trying to figure out if the two of you were even a good match for each other. Putting on airs to impress one another, fumbling through weird social situations, fitting time in for each other between careers and personal lives. 

Here, in the galaxy, dating doesn’t seem like a concept that makes any sense. Not with a nomadic Mandalorian, at least. Just saying in your head sounds fucking silly. If you had never come to live on his ship, care for his foundling, and ultimately become his close friend, Din probably would have never considered you in that way. You’ve known him for nearly half a year at this point, lived with him for nearly half a year. Aside from the hunts he would leave you behind for, almost every single day in that six month period has been spent in the presence of one another. With him, this must be a very significant thing. Din Djarin seems very much the type that would not jump into something frivolous. He only feels comfortable being like this with you because there is real trust and love involved. 

You’ve never experienced anything even close to this in your life. Not a single time. Any boyfriend back on Earth had either been an aloof dick, or a sex hungry moron. You’ve never taken the time to truly become friends with someone prior to dating them. 

So yeah, things have been hot and heavy with your Mandalorian while somehow also being the most meaningful emotional connection you’ve likely ever had or ever will have. The kind you used to pine for when you’d stay up all night reading romance stories only to just bum yourself out the next day. With Din it’s like you’re getting to have your cake and eat it too. 

“Din, caf’s ready!” You call up to the cockpit. When he doesn't answer you frown and call for him again. He still doesn’t answer, so you make your way up the ladder, forsaking the steaming cups of caf down in the galley. 

When you reach the top and make your way into the cockpit, the sight before your eyes stops you in your tracks. 

Din’s flying the ship with the kid in his lap, and he’s bobbing his silver head as he lightly sings to himself. What gets you, is that you can see the white chords of your headphones sticking out from under the base of his helmet and that you know exactly what song he’s singing to himself. When you step further into the room, you see that the kid is holding the iPad in his little green claws. Din doesn’t notice your presence at all, in fact he starts to sing even louder as it would seem that he’s getting into it. 

Clearly, he’s been stealing your iPad and listening to your music. For how long, you couldn’t even guess. Long enough to for him to learn the words to one of your favorite nü metal songs, as he’s been singing it correctly this whole time. The biggest grin stretches across your features, heart melting as you hear your Mandalorian’s beautiful baritone singing the chorus of Aerials by System of a Down. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you listen for a moment before you turn to go back downstairs. But then the kid notices you, making little noises of excitement as he waves his right hand at you. 

Din sees this, and stops singing to turn around and look at you. He pulls on one of the chords attached to his ears, and you watch as the little white bud falls out from under the helmet to limply lay across his beskar chest plate. 

“Hi,” you greet them, moving in to close the distance between you and your two favorite boys.

“Hi,” Din replies, reaching a gloved hand out to graze over your hip before leaning his head on the same area and wrapping his arm around your thighs. 

Turning your attention to the child, you reach a hand down to stroke his head. “Hey Green Bean. You want breakfast, buddy?” 

The kid nods his head and reaches up for you, so you scoop him up in your arms. Din chuckles and sits back up straight. “If he ever says no to food, we should be worried.”

“True. So… looks like you’ve developed a taste for Earth music,” chuckling, you grin down at Din.

“Some of it is very pleasant to the ear,” he agrees, gesturing to the iPad in his lap. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve taken the liberty.”

You shake your head, telling him, “Exchanging cultural information with each other is never something I will mind. You’re welcome to use that thing whenever you want to. If I’m learning all about the life of a Mandalorian, it’s only fitting that you learn about the life of an Earthling. Use up all the battery and it’s your responsibility to charge it, though.” 

Din chuckles, “Fair enough.” 

*****

It isn’t until your group arrives that you truly realize how unbearably hot Tatooine is going to be. With twin suns (a concept you had yet to consider until Din had explained it to you) heating it’s vast desert surface, the planet is sure to be stifling during the day. Risk of not only sunburn but severe skin damage is an issue, and the planet is supposed to be chilly at night, so wearing shorts and a tank top isn’t really an option. You’re forced to wear the thick clothes you normally need out in space, and you know that you’re going to be drenched in sweat within the first hour. How Din can manage these conditions covered in armor you will never know. 

“I have to warn you,” Din says as the hatch begins to open, “Peli is a trusted friend, but she is a little… eccentric.”

“I can get down with eccentric,” You reply, laughing at Din when you realize he’s confused by your phrasing. You don’t bother to explain, grinning up at your cosmic companion.

He simply shakes his head and begins making his way down the ramp. You can hear a woman’s voice speaking to a group of small droids, and when you exit the ship you are greeted with the sight of a short little lady who looks to be in her late fifties or early sixties. She’s got a wild mane of dark curly hair, either no eyebrows or ones that are very faint, and she’s wearing a dark red jumpsuit much like the ones mechanics wear back on Earth.

“May as well let them have at it. The Crest needs a good once over,” Din says as he reaches the bottom of the ramp, turning back to take a look at the ship’s outer hull. 

“Oh,” the woman says with her arms splayed out as she looks over the small group of intelligent robots, “so he likes droids now. You heard him! Give it a once over!” 

As you make your way down the ramp, smiling as you watch Din avoid the little droids running by him, Peli finally stops to realize that Mando did not travel to Tatooine alone. She looks you up and down, and then back to Din with her non-existent brows raised. 

“Who’s that?” The engineer asks skeptically, jabbing a thumb in your direction.

“This is my companion,” Din replies. Your heart is ready to burst from your chest upon hearing him say that. You hadn’t expected him to announce you in such a way, which indicates to you that he truly views this woman as a trusted friend. He tells Peli your name, and you nod to the woman as he does so. 

“Nice to meet you, Peli,” you say politely. 

“Yeah yeah, likewise,” she waves at you almost dismissively before squinting at the Mandalorian, “Since when do you have a companion? You never came off as the romantic type, Mando. I guess a lot has changed since you were last in Mos-” 

In what you assume is an effort to save himself from having to explain further, Din pulls his satchel out in front of him to reveal the green child nestled inside of it to Peli. She cheers with her hands in the air and the kid makes happy little noises upon recognizing her. Din holds the satchel out to her and she begins peeling the kid from the bag, practically forgetting that you exist.

“Oh thank the force! This little thing has had me worried sick! Come here you little womp rat.” Peli holds him out in front of her as the green baby makes little noises up at her. “Huh! Looks like it remembers me. How much do you want for it? Just kidding, but not really. You know if this thing ever divides or buds, I will gladly pay for the offspring.”

Your eyebrows raise as you look over to Din, who shrugs at you in a silent response. He wasn’t kidding when he called her eccentric. Just then a loud clanking noise comes from the Razor Crest behind you, and Peli turns to yell at her droids.

“HEY! Oh jeez. Watch what you’re doing up there! He barely trusts your kind. You want to give all droids a bad name? Thank you!” 

Din interjects then, “I’m here on business. I need your help.”

Peli nods, “Ah, well then business you shall have. Care for me to watch this wrinkled critter while you seek out adventure?” 

“I’ve been quested to bring this one back to it’s kind,” he explains.

The Tatooine resident rocks the child a little as she replies, “Oh wow. I can’t help you there. I’ve never seen any like it. And trust me, I’ve seen all shapes and sizes in this town.”  

Din explains why your group is there, and why finding another Mandalorian is necessary to navigate through the various hidden coverts in order to chart a path. She argues that he’s the only Mando that’s been on Tatooine for years, and he asks her about Mos Pelgo. 

An old beat up droid named R5 wheels out to display a map of Tatooine, and Peli explains to Din why Mos Pelgo, an old mining settlement, isn’t on any of the maps while pointing out its general vicinity. She then points out that the Space RV is basically going to stick out like a sore thumb, so Din asks if she still has her speeder bike. 

Obliging, Peli gets the bike out for your group to borrow. You’re both surprised and not surprised that it’s basically a motorcycle that hovers off the ground. While Din is preparing it or travel, the odd little woman takes the opportunity to approach you as you’re surveying the odd little desert workshop.

“So how in the hell does a pretty girl like you end up as Mando’s companion? What does that even mean for a guy like him?” 

Looking at her, you smile a little, “It’s a long story. The short version of it is that I needed transport and he needed help with the child so we exchanged services. The rest of it, the companionship, just kind of fell into place on it’s own. No one was searching for it when we met.”

“Ah, as it usually does with those things,” Peli nods, chuckling a little as she throws you a knowing glance. You briefly wonder how many dalliances this woman has had in her day. “I just would have never pegged him as the sort to get involved with another. You seem very sweet, and he’s always been so… grumpy.” 

“He’s still a huge grump,” you laugh, glancing over in his direction to see him working so diligently to make sure that the bike is drivable and that there are enough provisions packed to last a few days. Watching his armored body move around with precision is mesmerizing. The way he tilts his head, squatting down to adjust something at the back end of the bike. Each movement is worth admiring. Eventually, though, you stop ogling him and tun back to Peli, “but sometimes I get to see a side of him that he doesn't show to anyone else in the galaxy.” 

“And you don’t care that he’ll never take that beskar helmet off in front of you?”

“Nope,” you reply honestly, blushing as your mind wanders to the night before when he’d made you cum twice in one sitting as you laid there with your blindfold on. You plan to take his almost nightly tasting of you to the grave at this point, knowing full well that Din upholds his privacy just as much as his creed. 

“Must be the real thing, then. I’ve only known him for a short while, but I’m glad to see that he’s got someone who cares about him,” Peli says sincerely, “Everyone deserves that.” 

“I couldn’t agree more,” you reply, noticing that Din seems to be ready to go. “And I hope that you find or have already found that for yourself. You’re a nice woman, I’m glad that I got to meet you today.” 

“Likewise,” Peli agrees with a nod, handing the child over to you. She hasn’t let go of him since Din let her take him and that was nearly an hour ago. You appreciate the fact that she seems to genuinely love your little green bean so much. The kid is popular, you’ll give him that.

Walking up to Din, you see that he’s secured the satchel onto the back of the speeder. Handing the child over, you watch as Din puts the child down in the leather bag before climbing onto the back end of the speeder’s long seat. On Earth you would have never climbed onto the back of a motorcycle willingly. Even with a driver you trust, those things always felt like glorified death traps. But here on a planet called Tatooine? With Din? Climbing onto the back of the speeder feels like a no brainer. Like going off with Din Djarin on an adventure is the easiest decision in the world.

*****

Finding Mos Pelgo ends up taking a lot longer than you thought it would. It feels like you’re clinging to Din on that speeder bike for the better part of the long day. He stops a few times so that everyone can get a bathroom break, and you find out that being a woman and peeing in the middle of a hot desert is not fun. Staying hydrated is key in a place like this, but that also means frequent needs to relieve full bladders.

Eventually the three of you stumble upon a small group of locals that Din informs you are called Tusken Raiders. These people are clad head to toe in lightly colored fabric and wear interesting looking face coverings.

“Let me do the talking,” Din says as you detach from his back and climb off the bike. 

“I was planning on it,” you reply, amused with your cosmic companion. Picking the baby up, you hold him to your hip and offer him a sip of water. The child slurps it up happily, seeming mostly unbothered by the heat.

You, on the other hand, come from a colder region of Earth where the winters are filled with snow and sub-zero temperatures and the summers are gorgeously mild. Being cold is your least favorite feeling in the world, but the heat on Tatooine is borderline too much for you with the amount of clothing you have on. It seems as if nightfall will be approaching soon, but even still it’s hot as hell on this planet. Luckily the eye protection Peli let you borrow is helping with how bright everything is, but damn if two suns isn’t one too many. 

The Tusken Raiders begin speaking to Din in a language that you can only describe as throaty high pitched noises and gurgles, with what appears to be some kind of sign language thrown into the mix. When Din starts speaking the language back to them, you nearly choke on your own sip of water. It doesn’t even sound like his voice, the noises coming from his modulator are so foreign to you. But, in an attempt to be polite you try not to react in a way that would come off as if you are being judgmental. 

Din gestures back to you and the kid as he speaks, and the Tuskens all turn their heads to look at you. Feeling as if you should do something, you come to stand beside your Mandalorian and smile at them with a bow of the head. 

“I do not speak your language, but it’s nice to meet all of you,” you offer, just in case one of them knows basic. The kid seems to also get the picture, waving at all of them.

One seems to understand you, also bowing their head politely. Din nods at you in approval, so apparently your decision to say that was the right one. As the conversation continues, eventually they offer your group a spot at the small campfire and some of the food they are preparing once the twin suns begin to set. 

All they seem to be cooking is some kind of indistinguishable meat, and as much as it pains you to have to do so, you very politely eat a portion of it. Then you are offered a strange, unpleasant smelling fruit from which you are expected to drink it’s juice. With a grimace, you slurp the nasty liquid down. It’s not as bad as it smells, but it’s definitely not something you would ever seek out to taste again. Once finished, you offer them a kind smile and a nod, and all of the Tuskens seem to be pleased with your appreciation of their culture. 

One even leans over to Din, elbowing him slightly as he says something in his native tongue. Din laughs in response, head turning to face you as he speaks back in Tusken. 

“What was that about?” You ask later, as the three of you try to get comfortable by the fire. Days may be hot as hell on Tatooine but, true to deserts back on Earth, the night is very chilly. 

The Tuskens have mostly gone off to sleep in their tents or curled up in the warmth of a bantha. Apparently this small group is in the midst of travel themselves, being on their way to join the rest of their tribe at their village. Luckily they are well aware of Mos Pelgo, and have pointed Din in the right direction. By first light the three of you will be back on the speeder bike in search of this rogue Mandalorian once again. 

“Hm?” Din asks after a moment.

“When the Tusken made you laugh and you looked right at me.” 

“Oh,” Din turns is head towards you, “He said that it was too bad that you’re my woman because you would make a fine wife.” 

“I would make an excellent wife,” you agree with a smirk, playing it cool as your heart skips a beat. You’ve always wanted to be a wife, to be tethered to another for the rest of your life. Having a husband is the most romantic thing you can think of, so just hearing Din even say the word wife makes you feel all giddy regardless of the fact that you’re no where near ready to consider something like that with him. It’s no more than a nice thought in this early stage of the relationship. “Why did that make you laugh, though?” 

“Well he also said it looks like you know your way around a bedchamber. He meant it as a compliment. I didn't know what to say to that, so I just laughed.”

“What?!” You whisper yell, smacking the part of his arm that is not covered in indestructible metal. The kid is sound asleep between you, so you’re careful not to wake him. “Why is that funny?”

Din’s reply is very matter of fact even as he chuckles, “It’s not funny, it’s just true.” 

“Hm,” your eyes narrow playfully, “We’ll see who’s laughing when we get back to our bedchamber, Chrome Dome.”

*****

The following morning Din wakes up just as the twin suns are beginning to rise, the planet’s surface already feeling a good ten or fifteen degrees warmer than it had when he’d drifted off to sleep. You’re still snoring in his arms, and the kid is curled up next to your face. Sleeping on a blanket in the sand hadn’t been exactly comfortable, but Din is pleased that his aliit managed to find rest. 

Cramped as it may be, he misses the comfort of the cot on the Razor Crest. Sleeping with you pressed against him is his newly preferred way disengage from consciousness each night. Holding you in his arms as his tired brain replays all of the lewd sexual acts that had just been committed up in the cockpit, or listening to the sweet nothings you whisper to him as you fall asleep.

When he told you that the Tusken had made the comment about you being a good candidate for a wife, Din hadn’t been entirely honest with you. He hadn’t really laughed just because the Tusken made the reference to sex. Din had laughed because of the wife statement. The exact same thought has been on his mind for the last few days, and he told the Tusken as much knowing that you could not understand. 

Having a riduur was never something Din ever concerned himself with prior to meeting you. Perhaps once or twice as a young man the thought of finding a wife one day had been appealing, but that had been many cycles ago. Once he hit his mid thirties and had pretty much come to terms with his perpetual solitude, the idea of a spouse just seemed especially childish and incredibly far off from his lifestyle. It wasn’t until the Armorer brought it up during their brief meeting on Nevarro that he’d even thought about it where you are concerned. Things hadn’t progressed enough with you for it to be in consideration yet.

Din Djarin never expected a family, an aliit, to fall into his lap the way that this one has. Now that he’s had a glimpse of what life is like with you by his side, the word wife has been floating around in his mind more and more frequently. He doesn’t plan to address this any time soon, but the simple fact remains that the idea of marriage is suddenly more feasible for Din than it had been six months ago. 

Din just lays there for a moment, watching you. Watching your chest rise and fall. Watching the curve of your lips tugging upward. Watching your eyes move behind your lids as you dream. He imagines introducing you to others as his wife, to the Mandalorians of his covert as his riduur. He imagines bestowing you with a betrothal weapon and asking for you to join his clan permanently. He imagines your voice as you take the vow to be his for the rest of your lives. Clan Mudhorn could become a clan of three, and truthfully the thought of it causes Din’s chest to swell as his stomach does a somersault in his belly. 

Part of him already considers you to be a part of his clan, but he knows that you also deserve the right to choose what path you would like your life to take. Eventually, if things continue in this direction and when the time seems right, Din plans to ask you this significant question. Until that time comes, however, he will enjoy the courtship between you and the sensations of peace that it stirs within him. It may not always feel like this, so enjoying it while it lasts seems like the only logical thing to do. 

Your breathing pattern changes a little then, face contorting into one of dismay. Lips parting, a little noise escapes you that sounds both pained and fearful. A nightmare seems to have found your subconscious. This doesn’t occur nightly, but Din has awakened to you in the throws of a nightmare twice now. Apparently this happens to you from time to time, and most of the nightmares you have tend to be hyper-realistic representations of past traumatic events in your life. He’s learned that there is only one good way to help you wake up from it and avoid a panic.

“S’not my fault,” you mumble, body beginning to twitch around. 

Din places a gloved hand to you face, “Shh, Cyar’ika. It���s only a dream. You are here with me and our foundling on Tatooine. We camped with Tusken Raiders last night. You are safe.”  

Voice hoarse, your eyes blink a few times at him and a hand finds his wrist. “Din?”

“I’m here. Nightmare?”

“Yes,” your breathing starts to return to a normal rhythm as you clutch him, “about my parents this time.”

“It was only a dream. Whatever happened is in the past,” Din soothes. This worked the last time, and it seems to be doing the trick as your body’s tension lessens.

Just then the kid wakes up, blinking up at his adults as a tiny yawn escapes him. Holding the small green child even tighter to your chest, Din can see a few tears rolling down your cheeks as you squeeze him.

“I’ll never treat you the way they treated me,” you whisper to him, “As long as you’re with me, all you’re ever going to feel is love and understanding, my little green bean. I love you so much, buddy.”

*****

Another long, hot ride on the speeder bike later and a tiny little town finally comes into view. With maybe a dozen buildings on the one short strip, this has got to be the tiniest town you’ve ever seen in your life. It looks like something out of an old black and white western and as if your observation isn’t already spot on, you find yourself following Din what into what is clearly a saloon. 

Inside, an alien behind the bar who sort of reminds you of the creature from Jeepers Creepers, asks if he can help your traveling party. 

“I’m looking for a Mandalorian,” Din says, hands on the bar as he leans forward. 

“We don’t get many visitors in these parts. Can you describe him?” 

You try not to chuckle as Din sounds vaguely annoyed. “Someone who looks like me.”

The man seems to understand. “Oh, you mean the Marshall?

“Your Marshall wears Mandalorian armor?” 

“See for yourself,” the bartender gestures towards the door of the saloon, and both you and Din turn your heads to see a skinny figure approaching the establishment wearing what is most definitely Mandalorian armor. 

It’s beat up to hell, and you’re shocked to see that this armor is decorated with various colors of paint. The idea of Mandalorians personalizing their equipment never occurred to you until now, and when you look over Din’s own sleek design you realize that it is an intentional choice. You’d assumed they all look shiny like Din. The silver fits him so well, and it occurs to you how much it actually fits his personality.

“What brings you here, strangers?” The Marshall asks, a certain twang in his voice only furthering along the old western comparison. 

“I’ve been searching for you for many parsecs,” Din explains. 

“Well, now you found me.” The Marshall walks up to the bar and orders a bottle of blue liquor and three cups, taking them over to a nearby table as he offers you and Din a drink. Then, to your complete surprise, the Marshall takes his helmet off and places it on the table. He’s a handsome enough middle aged man, with neatly combed gray hair and a beard.

Din stops dead in his tracks as the man speaks. “I’ve never met a real Mandalorian. Heard stories,” the stranger pours the drinks, smirking up at the two of you, “I know you’re good at killin’, and probably none too happy seeing me wearing this hardware. So, I figure, only one of us is walkin’ outta here. But then I see the little guy and the fine lady standing behind you, and I think maybe I pegged you wrong.” 

“Who are you?” Din asks, voice on edge.

“I’m Cobb Vanth, Marshall of Mos Pelgo.” He tips his drink to Din before taking a sip. 

“Where did you get the armor?”

“Bought it off some Jawas.” 

Din’s tone is even but firm, “Hand it over.” 

“Look pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from but round here I’m the one who 

tells folks what to do.” 

“Take it off, or I will.” Din takes a threatening step forward.

Vanth points to where the kid is standing by a ceramic pot on the floor. “We gonna do this in front of the kid?” 

Din nods his head, and the way he says the next few words makes something in your core shift, “He’s seen worse.” 

God, he’s so fucking sexy when he’s in Mando mode. But, you’d rather not see a bloodbath today so you step forward as Cobb begins to stand. “Perhaps there is a way you boys can solve this peacefully, though.”

Just as Din turns to look at you as if to say, “Really?”, the ground begins to shake violently as if in the throws of an earthquake. 

Everyone runs out of the saloon just in time to see the sand moving like a great creature is moving around beneath the surface. It reminds you of movies like Tremors and Dune, and to your horror a huge creature is exactly what it turns out to be. The sand peaks move towards the bantha tied to a post just outside of town, and suddenly a great mouth opens up to swallow the poor thing whole. Between your ankles, the kid makes a scared little noise and hides his eyes against your leg. 

After that, Cobb Vanth explains that his town is in need of help with the creature and that perhaps they can come to an arrangement about the armor. If Din helps him kill it, he’ll give Din his armor. Ever true to his Mandalorian creed, Din takes Vanth up on the proposal so the beskar can be back in its rightful place among his people.

As the boys discuss why Din can’t just fly over with the Razor Crest and blow the thing to shit, you look down at the green baby in your arms and feel the tiniest bit of relief that Vanth is not a real Mandalorian. This means that instead of being one step closer to giving up the kid, your makeshift family is now taking an unexpected detour which is will only serve to prolong your time together. 

Back on the speeder bike, now your group is traveling with the Marshall through the desert as he rides along on his own odd looking bike. His looks like its made of the parts of multiple vehicles, thrown together by some crazy mechanic. You’re willing to bet that it might be Peli’s handiwork, despite knowing only a little bit about her.

During the ride, he regales you and Din with the story of how he got the armor and how he came to be the Marshall of Mos Pelgo. You grow a little bit of a soft spot for the man as he talks lovingly of his home town and the people in it for which he cares a great deal. You’ve never had a sense of community in that way, and it makes sense to you why Cobb is so desperate to keep it in tact. 

Eventually the group comes to a sharp angled rocky outcropping in the sand, Cobb leading everyone into the thin valley between the steep peaks. After about a half a mile, a loud noise can be heard and both speeders skid to a halt, the men both hopping off of their bikes to ready a weapon. Din grabs his rifle and pulls you down to crouch beside him on the ground. Raising your own blaster in the same direction, you try to ready yourself for a fight. The kid hides down in Din’s brown satchel. 

The noises get louder, and suddenly a dog-like reptilian creature approaches from the other side of a rock. Din’s rifle lowers a little, even as two others appear. He puts the weapon down all together, and Cobb looks at him in shock as Din begins approaching the animals. 

A little smile finds your lips as he begins speaking Tusken to the creatures which you learned the night before are called massiffs. As Din slowly moves towards them saying who knows what, the massiffs’ moods seem to change completely. So you watch as your mandalorian kneels down to pet one and scratch at it’s scaly neck as if the thing were a friendly golden retriever. 

Then the Tuskens appear, a different group then the ones you met the night before but likely from the same tribe. Din speaks to them a little, and Cobb leans over to speak to you.

Clearly he’s shocked by how civil the exchange between the Mandalorian and the Tuskens is. “Your fella’s quite the diplomat, ain’t he?” 

“He’s just a good man,” you say honestly, shrugging as you feel the weight of your words in your chest. It’s the truest statement you could have made, resonating with you that he’s the best man you’ve had in your life besides your grandfather. “He’s a bounty hunter and a Mandalorian warrior, but at the end of the day he's just as good at helping people as he is at killing them.”

Vanth nods, seeming to be alright with this answer. “How’d you end up by his side, if you don’t mind me askin’?” 

You chuckle, grabbing the kid from the satchel to hold him on your hip. “This little green bean, actually. I joined the Mandalorian to provide extra care for the child.”

“He’s a cute little fella, that’s for sure,” Vanth says, reaching out to wiggle a finger in front of the kid’s nose. “For what it’s worth, odd of a mix as it is, the three of ya make sense in a strange sort of way.”

Heart swelling, you nod at him in appreciation as you grin, “Thank’s, Marshall.” 

“You can call me Cobb, Ma’am.”

*****

After Cobb successfully makes a dick out of himself around the blazing campfire of the Tusken village and Din has to put out the metaphorical flames of the situation with the real ones of his flamethrower, the sand people inform Din that they have set up a small tent for you. But only for you. 

“What? Why just me?” You ask, confused. A shiver runs through you as the night becomes increasingly colder, the thought of being enclosed in a tent sounding pretty great right about now. 

Din explains, “The Tuskens are showing hospitality. They appreciate women in their culture, and since you have treated them with such respect both last night and today, they have prepared a tent so that you do not have to sleep in the conditions of the desert. Because we are not married, I cannot join you nor can the kid. We’ll sleep by the fire with Cobb, but if you decline this offer they will be greatly offended.” 

“Oh,” you say, eyebrows jolting upwards, “well I guess I can’t say no then. Too bad you guys can’t snuggle with me.”

“Soon enough, Cyare,” Din says quietly, knocking his head gently into yours.

And so you later find yourself trying to get comfortable in the small tent, feeling odd being in the surroundings of a completely foreign culture. Although the Tuskens are a nomadic people and never stay in the same place for very long, they’ve managed to make the interior of their non-permanent homes quite cozy. A few tapestries are hung up, and the ground level bed is far more comfortable than you expect it to be. The thick animal skin that makes up the sturdy tent walls does a good job of keeping the thing closed off from the outside. Once you douse the lights, everything in the tent is pitch black. 

Eventually you’re able to drift off to sleep for a while, until you suddenly awaken to a palm covering your mouth. Body going into survival mode, you start to thrash around and yell behind your attacker’s palm. That is, until you hear who it is.

“Shh, Cyar’ika. It’s me,” Din’s modulated voice is speaking to you in the darkness. You can barely see a thing, unable to find him until your hands land on his armor plated chest. His bare hand slowly lifts from your lips, allowing you to speak again.

“What are you doing in here?!” You whisper-yell, shoving at the beskar above your hands. “If the Tuskens catch you, won’t they be pissed?” 

“The Tuskens aren’t going to catch me,” he whispers back confidently, “I’ll be back in front of the fire before anyone gets up.” 

“What about the kid?” 

“He’s sleeping right by Cobb. I wouldn’t have left him alone.” 

The hand that had been covering your mouth is now snaking down past your stomach, below the fabric of your underwear. You’d taken your heavy pants off in order to sleep comfortably, having no access to the light stretchy pants you have back on the ship.

“You’re a maniac,” you giggle, back arching as his index finger slips between your delicate  folds. A shiver runs through you and you have to force back the little moan that wants to escape from the confines of your throat. 

“Perhaps,” Din agrees with a low chuckle.

Your hands find the helmet and come to rest at the back of his neck. “So what’s the plan here, Chrome Dome?” 

“The plan is I fuck you a little bit, and then I go back to the fire as if nothing happened at all,” he says matter of factly. 

“You really do love using that word now, don’t you?”

“Only when it’s appropriate.” 

In the same instant that the last syllable leaves his lips, the finger teasing you slips inside of your already moistening slit. It’s all you can do to not make loud, lewd noises as it enters you. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as quietly as you can, “is it bad that the prospect of being caught is a turn on?”

Din chuckles, “Why do you think I’m in here right now?” 

“Mm,” you hum, “So Din Djarin is kinkier than we thought.” 

“Enough talking,” Din says in that commanding tone that makes you weak in the knees. Then his finger vanishes, and your underwear is being yanked from your legs. He brings his hand up to your lips, and you eagerly pull the finger that had been inside you into your mouth as you lap up your own wetness.

When the finger disappears again, the unmistakeable sound of Din’s own trousers being unfastened comes next, followed by the feeling of his hands spreading your legs apart. He’s fully clothed, and you realize that until now he’s yet to fuck you in full armor. Even though you can’t really see anything, the concept sends a jolt of elation through you. You love a man in uniform. 

When he’s positioned at your entrance, you have to brace yourself a little. The handful of times you’ve had sex with him, he hasn’t been able to enter you without a loud noise of pleasure erupting from your wanting mouth. He seems to also be aware of this, as his palm once again comes to cover your parted lips. 

“Try not to be loud,” he whispers, and in that instance he’s slowly pushing into you. 

Whimpering from behind his hand, you grasp at his upper arms and squeeze as hard as you can to stop yourself from crying out. 

“That’s it, Cyar’ika,” Din breathes, modulator hissing right above your face, “be a good girl and take it quietly.” Suddenly the beskar helmet is pressed to your right ear as he quietly adds, “although I do love the slutty little noises you make for me. When we’re back home on our ship, you can scream my name as loud as you need to.” 

His voice is almost doing more to you than his body is, core heating up at his words. He knows how much you love dirty talk during sex, or rather, he’s been learning how much you love it.  Each time the two of you are together like this, you both manage to learn so much about one another. Your Mandalorian seems to love it too, reacting in the most lovely ways when you whisper depraved things to him in the throws of passion. You’ve never been more vocal during sex than you are with Din Djarin. It’s almost as if he’s been able to unlock a part of you that was hidden away, desperately waiting to be released. 

Din works himself in and out for a few moments, your legs coming to wrap around his waist. Soon he’s sweeping both of his hands under your upper back, and then in one fell swoop he’s scooping you up into the air while simultaneously sitting back on his ass. Your bodies never cease being linked, and now you’re the one on top as your Mandalorian lays himself down beneath you. Eyes having adjusted to the darkness of the tent, you can faintly see the silver glimmer of the beskar below you. 

With your hands braced against the cool metal, you slowly begin gyrating. At this angle he’s pushed so deep inside you that you feel almost pegged there, but eventually you work up enough momentum to really ride him. Somehow, this is the first time you’ve been on top with him. You’d nearly forgotten how quickly tiring it is on your thighs, but hearing Din’s soft little whimpers and moans makes it all the more worth it. 

You go until your hamstrings cannot take it much longer, collapsing forward onto the Mandalorian’s chest. Panting heavily, you rest your head on his shoulder. His arms circle you, one hand cradling your head while the other pins your shoulders down. Sharp little thrusts find you then, Din’s hips jerking upwards to crash into you. Eventually he slows down to a stop, fingers running through your hair as he begins to soothe you. 

“I’m going to let you get back to sleep,” he says.

“Already?” You pout, “What about finishing?” 

“I told you, I only wanted to fuck you a little bit. Do you need to finish?” 

“Honestly, no. This was perfect. Besides, I’m fucking tired and we have a giant sand lizard to kill tomorrow.” 

“Precisely. We can resume this at a later time.” 

Din pulls out as you peel yourself off of him, feeling around for your underwear.  He notices that they’re bunched up right beside his head, so he holds them out as he looks you over.

“Let me put these back where I found them,” he chuckles quietly, sitting up while simultaneously pushing you down onto your back. He finds the right legs for each hole, easing the soft fabric slowly up your legs. When he reaches your upper thighs he chuckles, “Lift up, Love.” 

So you lift your ass, noticing that its the first time he’s ever called you “love” in basic as he moves your underwear the rest of the way on. Then he comes to hover over you, and you smile contently up at him.

“What, Chrome Dome?” 

“Close your eyes,” he says.

You comply, feeling his hand come to cover your closed lids. A small hiss can be heard, and then his lips are capturing yours in a short lived but heated kiss. 

When he pulls apart, your voice is breathy, “I wasn't even going to ask you to do that.”

“That was for me,” Din says, modulated once again as he removes his hand. “Sleep well, Cyar’ika.” 

You pull his hand back down to your face, kissing his palm. It feels like sleep will reclaim you at any moment, so you curl up in the blankets and close your eyes. “Goodnight, Din.”

“Jate ca,” he says your name, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Just as you hear him moving for the exit of the tent, a sleepy little smile crosses your features and you hear yourself say, “love you… so much.”

The tent is silent for a short moment, before you hear Din lowly reply, “I love you,” in basic rather than Mando’a. For some reason this makes you blush, as if hearing him say it both in his native tongue and yours makes it seem more like you're on even footing with each other.

Then he’s gone, and you’re alone once again. Feeling as if all of that had been a lovely dream, your mind drifts back to unconsciousness.

*****

At first light the Tusken Raider camp is up and about, and you find yourself exiting the darkness of your tent to already blinding sunlight assaulting your eyes. Din and the kid are waiting patiently for you just outside of the tent, and your face forms into the happiest of grins when you see them. Din hands the kid over as you approach, the small green child reaching eagerly for his foster mom.  

“Good Morning, my little love bug,” you say happily, rubbing the tip of your nose onto his. The kid giggles and grabs your face in response. “And good morning to my favorite Mandalorian,” you say as you turn your head to Din with a knowing grace. Under different circumstances, in the sanctity of the Razor Crest, you would have kissed his helmet where his lips ought to be. 

“Jate vaar’tur,” Din responds with a tilt of the head.

Cobb looks between all of you with a raised brow before sarcastically saying, “Well good morning to you guys too.” 

You like to think that Din just rolled his eyes behind the beskar, hearing him sigh. You chuckle as you wave over to the Marshall of Mos Pelgo. “Morning, Cobb.”

A few Tuskens come to speak to Din, and after a short breakfast of nutrition packs, everyone seems ready to get the show on the road. 

A speeder bike ride later, your group is back in Mos Pelgo with the sand people following behind on bantha back. Cobb calls a town meeting, to which all residents show up at the bar where you’d first met this Tatooine gunslinger. 

He explains the situation to his people, filling them in up to the point where he tells them that the sand people are the ones who are going to help kill the krayt dragon. At this, the people of Mos Pelgo become slightly uproarious and once again Din is forced to step in to help Cobb keep the peace. 

An agreement is finally settled upon, and the two factions of Tatooine locals are forced to team up. Things are heated and uncomfortable, but eventually everyone is able to work together for the most part. Din explains the plan to everyone, and after another long journey across the sand you find yourself back at the mouth of the dragon’s cave.

It feels like it takes well over an hour for the plan to be set up. Burying the explosives, setting up the huge crossbow-like structures, getting everyone into position, making sure everyone knows their role. Din, Cobb, the kid, and yourself are situated further back and off to the side to observe everything. Cob’s got the detonator and you can tell he’s anxious to press the damn thing and get this over with. 

And so the plan begins. The krayt dragon comes when the Tusken Raiders call for it. Shooting it with the large arrows seems to only just piss the thing off, and Cobb nearly pushes the button too soon. You’re horrified when the dragon opens it’s great mouth and a disgusting stream of what looks like bile is vomited all over some of the poor people down there. Whatever it is, it must be acidic because from what you can see it appears to melt their skin and clothing. 

“Almost,” Din is saying as he watches it slither forward through his miniature telescope, “Almost… Now!”

Cobb presses the detonator, and the explosives hit dead on. The ground quakes beneath your feet and you can feel the heat of the explosions even from this vantage point. Only, they don’t seem to do the kind of damage that Din was hoping for. Angry, the krayt dragon retreats into the ground, only to reappear at the top on the small mountain it’s cave resides under. It once again sprays the acidic bile all over the people below, and this is when Din and Cobb decide to get involved. 

Din turns to you and grabs your shoulders, “You stay here and keep the kid safe. I will return.” 

“You fucking better,” you squeeze him once.

The rest of it almost goes by in a blur. Din and Cobb fly down to fight the thing off for a while, until Cobb uses the rocket on his jet pack to get it’s attention and your stomach drops as it begins slithering towards them. Then you see Din hit the jet pack on Cobb’s back, sending him flying into the air until he lands hard just a few yards away from you. Din struggles with the bantha’s ropes and you turn your attention to the man splayed out in the sand before you.

“What the fuck is he doing?” You call out to Cobb, who shakes his head at you.

“I don’t know, I think your fella is crazier than skinny hutt!” Cobb calls back, and the both of you turn your attention back to the scene down below just in time to see the krayt dragon consume both the bantha covered in extra explosives and Din Djarin before diving back down into the sand.

The kid makes a squeak of fear beside you, and you start sprinting forward as your stomach drops down to your feet. “Mando! DIN!” 

It feels like the moment lasts forever, everyone just watching in stunned horror. For you, you just watched your partner get swallowed up by a giant sand lizard. For the people below you, they just watched their one hope at saving their land get eaten alive. 

And then the ground begins to shake, your booted feet vibrating beneath you. Rumbling can be heard before the sand suddenly breaks free and the dragon re-emerges. It’s great mouth opens wide, and you finally release the breath you’d been holding in when Din’s form comes flying out of the opening. 

He hits the detonator, and you watch in awe as the krayt dragon explodes from the inside out before your very eyes. Grabbing the child, you take off in Din’s direction, running right past Cobb at full speed. 

“Mando!” You shout, barreling right into him. He’s covered in some sort of nasty green slime from the krayt dragon’s belly, and in this moment you could care fucking less as you cling to him. “Don’t fucking scare me like that.”

“I told you I would return,” Din says simply, looking you and the child over. The kid coos up at him, so Din’s beskar covered head tilts down as he nods. “I’m okay, buddy.”

The kid nods in return, and you’re just glad that your little family is still in one piece. 

The Tuskens make quick work of harvesting the dragon’s meat, even giving a generously huge hunk to Din as a thank you. You look down at the bloody red meat and gag a little. It looks so gross.

Noticing this, Din chuckles in your direction. “I know you don’t love to eat meat, but this will come in handy. I’ll make us a krayt dragon stew when we return home to the Crest.”

Sarcastically, you pat your stomach and say, “yummy,” with the final syllable drawn out to sound more like, “yum-eeee.” Din laughs even harder, and the sound of it fills you with so much joy.  

Cobb comes to say his goodbyes and return the beskar armor to Din as agreed upon, and you sincerely hope that your paths cross with the Marshal again in the future. Stubbornness and hot headedness aside, the man has a good heart and he’s a good leader to his people.

*****

Soon enough Din is slowing the speeder bike down as Peli’s hanger comes into view, and you sigh with relief against his back. The prospect of being home sounds so lovely to your exhausted, overheated body. After going on what you easily consider to be your first true adventure, you’re ready to curl up in the cot with your Mandalorian pressed against you and your foster child in your arms as the three of you drift off into much needed sleep.

Din is still filthy from being inside the belly of the krayt dragon, and frankly he stinks to high heaven of the large sand creature, but you lay your head on his back regardless while he’s bringing the bike into a full stop just inside the hanger.

Peli is there to greet you with her small gaggle of droids.

“The Razor Crest is all tuned up for ya, Mando. My associate and I even upgraded a few of your more outdated parts, free of charge if you let me hold that womp rat for a while before you leave. In fact, you should stay for supper and leave in the morning! I’ll cook up some of that meat you have there and babysit him to let you two have some proper rest.” 

You climb from the bike, knowing full well that the green goop from Din’s clothing is now all over the front of you. You pluck the kid from Din’s satchel and give him a once over before handing the baby over to the eccentric little engineer. 

“Your associate?” Din asks skeptically, coming to stand next to you. “I thought all under your employ are droid.” 

“Oh did I not mention that before? I have another human working with me now. A business partner of sorts. That’s right, your old Peli here found herself a fella. Sorry you missed your chance, Mando.” Peli sends a wink your way, clearly joking. Then she bounces the kid in her arms while looking down at him. “And to think, I could have been your mama.” 

You can’t help but laugh a little and elbow Din in the side as you play along, “You didn’t tell me I had competition here on Tatooine, Mando.” 

To which, Din just sighs heavily and shakes his silver head.

Peli’s curly hair bounces as she laughs at the Mandalorian before going on, “Best engineer I’ve ever met, almost as good as me. He was off at the Tosche Station picking up power converters for me when you landed last week.” Peli turns to the Razor Crest and puts a hand to her mouth, “RICHARD! Come out here and meet the little green creature I told you about.” 

You’re completely taken aback when you hear the familiar name, feeling an odd pang of sadness. It’s not often that you meet people in the galaxy with a name that reminds you of Earth, but it’s also not entirely uncommon either. This one just happens to coincidentally remind you of someone you loved dearly. 

Then you see a man in his late sixties or early seventies emerge from the other side of the Razor Crest, wiping his oily hands on a rag. He’s got a prominent gray mustache and beard covering the lower half of  his wrinkled face and he’s wearing an engineer jumpsuit suit similar to Peli’s. He lifts the dark safety goggles to rest in his unruly gray hair as he approaches and when his face becomes completely clear to you, you nearly faint on the spot. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man says, stunned in his tracks as he looks directly at you. 

You must be having some sort of mirage experience from being in the heat of the binary suns for too long. This can’t possibly be real. 

“Mando, is that guy really standing there or am I hallucinating?” You whisper to your beskar clad best friend with wide eyes.

“He’s really standing there. Why? What’s wrong?”

“I think that’s my fucking grandfather.” 

*****

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

*****

Taglist:

@luc-k-y | @theslytherinwriter | @somewereinthegalaxi | @leithatnight | @missbabyjay | @theyoutubedork

*****

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din and grogu #the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #mando x reader #mando and grogu #grogu #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fanfiction #mando #din #star wars reader insert #star wars fanfiction #star wars #mando x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x earthling reader #din djarin x oc #mando x oc #the mandalorian x oc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin smut #clan of two

[ukrfeminism]

2 minute read

The Government has issued new guidance warning teachers to be aware of “incel” ideology in schools and colleges, amid fears that the subculture poses a growing threat to national security.

The Department for Education (DfE) has published new advice urging education staff to be aware of the evolving risks of radicalisation among young people, including the first explicit mention of involuntary celibates (incels) as a potential terror threat.

It said that some children, young people and adult learners “may appear engaged with, or have adopted, a mixed, unclear or unstable ideology that supports extreme violence,” including “involuntary celibates who direct their anger mainly at women”.

The guidance also urged teachers to be aware of children and young people who showed signs of Islamist extremism, right-wing and left-wing extremism, and those who appeared “obsessed with massacre, for example, high-school shootings”.

It warned of the growing risk of online radicalisation, telling teachers that “the internet and social media make spreading divisive and hateful narratives to millions of people easy… Education settings need to be aware of the risks and talk to children, young people and adult learners about staying safe online.”

The Government has also recruited a specialist support officer to provide “training sessions on topics such as online radicalisation, gaming and extremism, and incels”, which it said have been accessed by thousands of staff from education providers, i can reveal. 

It comes amid growing concerns about the risk of domestic terrorism in the UK posed by incels, after five people were shot and killed in Plymouth last year by 22-year-old Jake Davison, who reportedly shared misogynistic views on incel forums.

The incel movement is a growing online subculture in which a misogynistic worldview is promoted by individuals who blame women for their lack of sexual activity.

Prevent, part of the UK’s counter-terror programme, does not publish statistics related directly to incels, which are categorised as a “mixed, unstable or unclear (MUU)” ideology. However, the latest official statistics show that more than half of referrals to Prevent in the year to March 2021 were related to individuals showing signs of MUU ideologies.

Almost a third of cases that were escalated to the UK’s Channel programme, which provides tailored support to people deemed vulnerable to being drawn into terrorism, were indivuals categorised as MUU.

An independent report by the UK’s Commission for Publishing Extremism last year found that there has been “a rise in extreme misogynistic hate speech in the UK, mainly perpetrated by incels”. 

It called on the Government to extend the “stirring up of hatred offences, as part of hate crime legislation, to include sex”, noting that “this would help protect against the rising incel threat”.

Research published on Sunday by the University of Exeter said that the so-called “incelosphere” is a “community of angry, belligerent and unapologetic” men that poses a “clear and present danger” to women and an “emerging threat to children”.

It found that users on the leading incel forum posted about rape every 29 minutes and the forum’s rules were changed six months ago to accommodate paedophilia.

None of the past four education secretaries have commented on the growing threat posed by incels. Gavin Williamson, who stepped down as education secretary in 2021, was understood to have been keen for teachers to be able to tackle the risks from incel culture through the relationships, sex and health education (RSHE) curriculum within schools.

However, some schools have begun providing specialised lessons on murky ideologies such as inceldom amid fears that they cannot be addressed in RSHE alone.

The Skinners’ School in Kent held a parents’ information evening on “incel culture”, sexism and consent earlier this year alongside two other local schools.

Meanwhile, Salford council has also begun running “incel awareness courses” for school and other professionals, with dozens from across Greater Manchester attending each month.

ialso found safeguarding newsletters sent out to primary school children across the country, warning students to be cautious of the growing incel movement and to steer clear of incel forums on sites such as Reddit, 4chan and Parler. 

One primary school in Stoke has even begun teaching staff to be aware of misogynistic language used by incels, including the words “Chad” – which refers toa stereotypical Alpha male – and “femoid” – a derogatory term used to suggest that women are subhuman.

In Scotland, where education is a devolved issue, teachers have also begun undergoing training to recognise signs of young people being radicalised by incel ideas, including video seminars in “incel ideology and how it can present both on and offline”.

A Department for Education spokesperson said: “Education settings play a crucial role in helping pupils understand the world around them, both through the RSHE curriculum – which allows for a school-led approach on teaching pupils about a range of current issues – but also through their safeguarding duties, supporting staff to identify young people that may be at risk of radicalisation.

“Our recently published non-statutory guidance helps schools identify and address extremist views by providing different examples of extreme ideologies, including involuntary celibate (incel) concerns.

“Guidance around such ideologies has previously been shared to help statutory partners recognise broader radicalisation concerns.”

[umichenginabroad]

Madrid Week 6: The Honeymoon Phase

Hola a todxs ‼️‼️ Niko here again, and welcome back to week 6’s blog of my study abroad experience in Madrid. This post is a little more text/personal reflection heavy. We'll get to some more fun stuff next week :).

This past week was filled mainly with schoolwork and cooking — not too much exploration of the city — and I stuck mainly to my established routes between home and university. However, looking forward, I think that this routine will be significant in my international experience, too.

For the first few weeks living here, I got out as much as possible and tried my best to take advantage of everything Madrid had to offer. Trying all the cute cafes, seeing all the tourist attractions, exploring new neighborhoods, going out to all the clubs. But now that I’ve been here for a month and a half, it feels a bit like I’m actually ‘living’ here, and less like some kind of extended vacation. 

I actually have schoolwork to do now — projects, papers, presentations — and that leaves me much less time to simply exist. I think I can take that as both a blessing and a curse. For one, it’s a curse, because in reality, I would love to just skip around Madrid all week without any responsibilities, who wouldn’t? 

But now, I think I’m living more like how a student would who’s here year round. Let’s be honest — are Michigan students constantly going around Ann Arbor, discovering all the little nooks and crannies, experiencing all the most hyped up spots and exploring all the paths less traveled? Not really. Maybe I’ll hit the Kerrytown farmers market or the Blind Pig on a weekend, but honestly that’s few and far in between. Majority of my weekends at Michigan are spent around campus and at home.

I don’t want to say we’ve “become complacent” with Ann Arbor, because that inherently has a negative connotation. But we’ve certainly gotten used to living in this city, and simultaneously have tons of other things on our plate that we’ve got to attend to. Things aren’t as shiny and exciting as they were the first month of freshman year, and we simply have less time. It feels like something similar is happening here in Spain, for both reasons (although maybe to a lesser extent — I still have more free time than I do in Michigan, and Madrid is still, well, Madrid, Spain. Not quite like Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA). 

Now, my perspective of Madrid has shifted slightly, and with it my experience. Maybe one could say my “honeymoon phase” is over, but to be honest, I haven’t really started to find a lot of things I really dislike about the city. Things are just a little more like real life, which I think I'll end up being happy for.

As some of you may know, I studied abroad over the summer after my freshman year in Buenos Aires. That program lasted 6 weeks, and I stayed an extra with my parents after the program ended. School wasn’t as demanding, and I had ample free time all week. Those six weeks were incredible. It was my first time living outside of the United States for an extended period of time, my first time ever living in a big city, my first time immersed in another language and culture completely different from my own. 

Upon reflection, I think my ‘honeymoon phase’ lasted all 7 weeks of my experience in Buenos Aires. And now, I’m reaching week 7 here in Madrid. I’ll be here for a total of 15.

My experiences in Buenos Aires and Madrid have been similar in a lot of ways. The architecture of the cities, the language, the general warmth of the people and culture. Simultaneously, they’ve been different in more ways than I can count, and I think a big one I'm slowly transitioning into will be due to the amount of time that I have here.

Now, I’m left with an awareness of the challenge that comes with living in a foreign city, in a culture completely different from my own. In a class that I’m currently taking, 'Social groups and their cultural imaginaries', we had a lesson on Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities. One of the main themes of the book: Our interpretation of a city or landscape is based on how we are feeling, or what we want at that particular moment.

How will my experience of this city change with my perception and feelings towards it? What will I desire then, and what do I desire now? How will I interact with Madrid in week 15? How will that be different from week 1?

How will I continue to adapt to Spanish culture? What pieces of US culture will I still be holding on to, and what pieces of my identity will change?

Will I continue to find excitement and novelty in this place in week 15, or will I have to make an active effort to do so? Will living in Madrid at week 15 feel like living in Ann Arbor, or Arlington VA? Or are the places and cultures so different that the experience will never be comparable?

Will this lifestyle be something that I want to continue, or will I find that I’m most comfortable in the culture and community I grew up with?

I’ve asked a lot of questions here, most of which I have no semblance of an answer to. Some of them are small, some of them are pretty big. I’ll plan on coming back to this blog, maybe in week 15, maybe in a post-reflection — and I’ll try to answer as many of them as I can. Just writing them here increases my awareness, which enables more active reflection and growth in my day-to-day life.

One action item I’ve realized after writing this blog: I need to start taking a more active effort during the week to continue appreciating Madrid for all it has to offer me. At first, it came really naturally, but now, it’s harder. Moreover, as I’ll be traveling around Europe for the next few weekends, I’ll have less chances to experience Madrid without the pressure of everyday life squeezing around me.

Taking an active effort means giving myself more opportunities to be mindful, present, and appreciative of the environment I’m in. That includes waking up earlier and trying to establish more of a schedule with schoolwork, which will give me time to do things like going out on walks to take photos in the morning, or finding a new bar to enjoy a drink at during the evenings. Also, I hope to start meditating again — which has been something that has served as a point of stability for me throughout college.

Transition periods are never easy, and I've found myself in one yet again. The best advice I can give myself for now is to remain appreciative and accepting of all of the everything lives throws me, knowing that each one is an opportunity for growth — and I'll come out the other side more experienced, wise, and grateful that it happened.

In other news, this week I saw Dune 2 (highly recommend, ESPECIALLY in IMAX), kept cooking, and did a good amount of studying. Also, this past weekend I went to Italy (for the first time ever) and spent the weekend with an old friend. I’m headed to Sevilla this weekend, and I’ll detailing both a little more in next week's blog. Wishing everyone a happy hump day and a strong finish to the week.

Hasta pronto,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

#UmichEnginAbroad #IPEUC3M #NikoEconomos #IPEWinter24 #Spain

[howieabel]

Gioconda and Si-Ya-U (*)

by Nâzım Hikmet Ran

Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk 1993

    to the memory of my friend SI-YA-U,     whose head was cut of in Shanghai. (GIOCONDA AND SI-YA-U: Si-Ya-U, Hsiao San (b. 1896), Chinese revolutionary and man of letters. Hikmet met him in Moscow in 1922 and believed he had been executed in the bloody 1927 crackdown on Shanghai radicals after returning to China via Paris in 1924, when the Mona Lisa did in fact disappear from the Louvre. The two friends were reunited in Vienna in 1951 and traveled to Peking together in 1952. Translated into Chinese, this poem was later burned-along with Hsiao's works - in the Cultural Revolution.)

A CLAIM

Renowned Leonardo's world-famous "La Gioconda" has disappeared. And in the space vacated by the fugitive a copy has been placed. The poet inscribing the present treatise knows more than a little about the fate of the real Gioconda. She fell in love with a seductive graceful youth; a honey-tongued almond-eyed Chinese named Si-Ya-U. Gioconda ran off after her lover; Gioconda was burned in a Chinese city. I, Nazim Hikmet, authority on this matter, thumbing my nose at friend and foe five times a day, undaunted claim I can prove it; if I can't, I'll be ruined and banished forever from the realm of poesy.     1928

Part One Excerpts from Gioconda's Diary

"15 March 1924; Pairs, Louvre Museum" At last I am bored with the Louvre Museum. You can get fed up with boredom very fast. I am fed up with my boredom. And from the devastation inside me I drew this lesson;   to visit   a museum is fine, to be in a museum piece is terrible! In this place that imprisons the past I am placed under such a heavy sentence that as the paint on my face cracks out of boredom I'm forced to keep grinning without letting up. Because I am the Gioconda from Florence whose smile is more famous than Florence. I am bored with the Louvre Museum. And since you get sick soon enough   of conversing with the past, I decided from now on to keep a diary. Writing of today may be of some help   in forgetting yesterday... However, the Louvre is a strange place. Here you might find Alexander the Great's Longines watch complete with chronometer, but not a single sheet of clean notebook paper or a pencil worth a piaster. Damn your Louvre, your Paris. I'll write these entries   on the back of my canvas. And so when I picked a pen from the pocket of a nearsighted American sticking his red nose into my skirts -his hair stinking of wine-       I started my memoirs. I'm writing on my back the sorrow of having a famous smile... "18 March: Night" The Louvre has fallen asleep. In the dark, the armless Venus     looks like a veteran of the Great War. The gold helmet of a knight gleams as the light from the night watchman's lantern       strikes a dark picture. Here in the Louvre   my days are all the same   like the six sides of a wood cube. My head is full of sharp smells   like the shelf of a medicine cabinet. "20 March" I admire those Flemish painters: is it easy to give the air of a naked goddess         to the plump ladies of milk and sausage merchants? But even if you wear silk panties, cow + silk panties = cow. Last night a window   was left open. The naked Flemish goddesses caught cold. All day today,   turning their bare mountain-like pink behinds to the public, they coughed and sneezed... I caught cold, too. So as not to look silly smiling with a cold, I tried to hide my sniffles       from the visitors. "1 April" Today I saw a Chinese: he was nothing like those Chinese with their topknots. How long he gazed at me! I'm well aware the favor of Chinese     who work ivory like silk       is not to be taken lightly... "11 April" I caught the name of the Chinese who comes every day:           SI-YA-U. "16 April" Today we spoke in the language of eyes. He works as a weaver days and studies nights. Now it's a long time since the night came on like a pack of black-shirted Fascists. The cry of a man out of work who jumped into the Seine rose from the dark water. And ah! you on whose fist-size head   mountain-like winds descend, at this very minute you're probably busy building towers of thick, leather-bound books to get answers to the questions you asked of the stars. READ SI-YA-U READ... And when your eyes find in the lines what they desire         when your eyes tire, rest your tired head     like a black-and-yellow Japanese chrysanthemum           on the books..           SLEEP             SI-YA-U             SLEEP... "18 April" I've begun to forget the names of those Renaissance masters. I want to see the black bird-and-flower         watercolors that slant-eyed Chinese painters             drip from their long thin bamboo brushes.

NEWS FROM THE PARIS WIRELESS

HALLO   HALLO   HALLO PARIS   PARIS   PARIS... Voices race through the air     like the fiery greyhounds. The wireless in the Eiffel Tower calls out: HALLO   HALLO   HALLO PARIS   PARIS   PARIS... "I, TOO, am Oriental - this voice is for me. My ears are receivers, too. I, too, must listen to Eiffel." News from China   News from China       News from China: The dragon that came down from the Kaf mountains       has spread his wings across the golden skies of the Chinese homelands. But in this business it's not only the British lord's gullet shaved   like the thick neck         of a plucked hen that will be cut but also   the long     thin     beard of Confucius!

FROM GIOCONDA'S DIARY

"21 April" Today my Chinese     looked my straight in the eye and asked: "Those who crush our rice fields with the caterpillar treads of their tanks and who swagger through our cities like emperors of hell, are they of YOUR race, the race of him who CREATED you?" I almost raised my hand and cried "No!" "27 April" Tonight at the blare of an American trumpet -the horn of a 12-horsepower Ford-       I awoke from a dream, and what I glimpsed for an instant       instantly vanished. What I'd seen was a still blue lake. In this lake the slant-eyed light of my life had wrapped his fingers around the neck of a gilded fish. I tried to reach him, my boat a Chinese teacup and my sail   the embroidered silk     of a Japanese       bamboo umbrella...

FNEWS FROM THE PARIS WIRELESS

HALLO   HALLO   HALLO PARIS   PARIS   PARIS... The radio station signs off. Once more   blue-shirted Parisians     fill Paris with red voices     and red colors...

FROM GIOCONDA'S DIARY

"2 May" Today my Chinese failed to show up. "5 May" Still no sign of him... "8 May" My days   are like the waiting room         of a station: eyes glued   to the tracks... "10 May" Sculptors of Greece, painters of Seljuk china, weavers of fiery rugs in Persia, chanters of hymns to dromedaries in deserts, dancer whose body undulates like a breeze, craftsman who cuts thirty-six facets from a one-carat stone, and YOU   who have five talents on your five fingers,     master MICHELANGELO! Call out and announce to both friends and foe: because he made too much noise in Paris, because he smashed in the window     of the Mandarin ambassador, Gioconda's lover     has been thrown out         of France... My lover from China has gone back to China... And now I'd like to know who's Romeo and Juliet! If he isn't Juliet in pants       and I'm not Romeo in skirts... Ah,if I could cry-     if only I could cry... "12 May"   Today   when I caught a glimpse of myself     in the mirror of some mother's daughter touching up the paint     on her bloody mouth in front of me, the tin crown of my fame shattered on my head. While the desire to cry writhes inside me         I smile demurely; like a stuffed pig's head       my ugly face grins on... Leonardo da Vinci,   may your bones     become the brush of a Cubist painter for grabbing me by the throat - your hands dripping with paint - and sticking in my mouth like a gold-plated tooth this cursed smile...

Part Two The Flight

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

Ah, friends, Gioconda is in a bad way... Take it from me,   if she didn't have hopes   of getting word from afar, she'd steal a guard's pistol,   and aiming to give the color of death to her lips' cursed smile,   she'd empty it into her canvas breast...

FROM GIOCONDA'S DIARY

O that Leonardo da Vinci's brush had conceived me     under the gilded sun of China! That the painted mountain behind me had been a sugar-loaf Chinese mountain, that the pink-white color of my long face could fade, that my eyes were almond-shaped! And if only my smile   could show what I feel in my heart! Then in the arms of him who is far away   I could have roamed through China...

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

I had a heart-to-heart talk with Gioconda today. The hours flew by     one after another like the pages of a spell-binding book. And the decision we reached will cut like a knife Gioconda's life         in two. Tomorrow night you'll see us carry it out...

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

The clock of Notre Dame       strikes midnight. Midnight   midnight. Who knows at this very moment   which drunk is killing his wife? Who know at this very moment   which ghost     is haunting the halls         of a castle? Who knows at this very moment   which thief     is surmounting       the most unsurmountable wall? Midnight... Midnight... Who knows at this very moment... I know very well that in every novel       this is the darkest hour. Midnight   strikes fear into the heart of every reader... But what could I do? When my monoplane landed     on the roof of the Louvre, the clock of Notre Dame struck midnight. And, strangely enough, I wasn't afraid as I patted the aluminum rump of my plane       and stepped down on the roof... Uncoiling the fifty-fathom-long rope wound around my waist, I lowered it outside Gioconda's window like a vertical bridge between heaven and hell. I blew my shrill whistle three times. And I got an immediate response to those three shrill whistles. Gioconda threw open her window. This poor farmer's daughter     done up as the Virgin Mary chucked her gilded frame and, grabbing hold of the rope, pulled herself up... SI-YA-U, my friend,   you were truly lucky to fall to a lion-hearted woman like her...

FROM GIOCONDA'S DIARY

This thing called an airplane     is a winged iron horse. Below us is Paris with its Eiffel Tower-   a sharp-nosed, pock-marked, moon-like face. We're climbing,   climbing higher. Like an arrow of fire   we pierce       the darkness. The heavens rise overhead,       looming closer; the sky is like a meadow full of flowers.     we're climbing,         climbing higher. ................................................... ................................................... ................................................... I must have dozed off -   I opened my eyes. Dawn's moment of glory. The sky a calm ocean, our plane a ship. I call this smooth sailing, smooth as butter. Behind us a wake of smoke floats. Our eyes survey blue vacancies full of glittering discs... Below us the earth looks   like a Jaffa orange     turning gold in the sun... By what magic have I   climbed off the ground     hundreds of minarets high, and yet to gaze down at the earth   my mouth still waters...

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

Now our plane swims   within the hot winds     swarming over Africa. Seen from above,   Africa looks like a huge violin. I swear they're playing Tchaikovsky on a cello     on the angry dark island         of Africa. And waiving his long hairy arms,     a gorilla is sobbing...

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

We're crossing the Indian Ocean. We're drinking in the air   like a heavy, faint-smelling syrup. An keeping our eyes on the yellow beacon of Singapore - leaving Australia on the right,   Madagascar on the left - and putting our faith in the fuel in the tank,   we're heading for the China Sea... "from the journal of a deckhand named John aboard a British vessel in the China Sea" One night a typhoon blows up out of the blue. Man, what a hurricane! Mounted on the back of yellow devil, the Mother of God   whirls around and around, churning up the air. And as luck would have it,   I've got the watch on the foretop. The huge ship under me   looks about this big! The wind is roaring blast   after blast,       blast       after blast The mast quivers like a strung bow.(*) *[What business do you have being way up there?   Christ, man, what do you think you are-a stork? N.H.] Oops, now we're shooting sky-high --     my head splits the clouds. Oops, now we're sinking to the bottom --     my fingers comb the ocean floor. We're learning to the left, we're leaning to the right -- that is, we're leaning larboard and starboard. My God, we just sank!   Oh no! This time we're sure to go under! The waves leap over my head     like Bengal tigers. Fear leads me on   like a coffee-colored Javanese whore. This is no joke - this is the China Sea... (*) *[The deckhand has every right to be afraid.     The rage of the China Sea is not to be taken lightly. N.H.] Okay, let's keep it short. PLOP... What's that? A rectangular piece of canvas dropped from the air         into the crows nest. The canvas   was some kind of woman! It struck me this madame who came from the sky would never understand     our seamen's talk and ways. I got right down and kissed her hand, and making like a poet, I cried: "O you canvas woman who fell from the sky! Tell me, which goddess should I compare you to? Why did you descend here? What is your large purpose?" She replied: "I fell   from a 550-horsepower plane. My name is Gioconda,   I come from Florence. I must get to Shanghai     as soon as possible.'

FROM GIOCONDA'S DIARY

The wind died down,   the sea calmed down. The ship makes strides toward Shanghai. The sailors dream,   rocking in their sailcloth hammocks. A song of the Indian Ocean plays     on their thick fleshy lips: "The fire of the Indochina sun warms the blood   like Malacca wine. They lure sailors to gilded stars,       those Indochina nights,         those Indochina nights. Slant-eyed yellow Bornese cabin boys knifed in Sigapore bars paint the iron-belted barrels blood-red. Those Indochina nights, those Indochina nights. A ship plunges on to Canton, 55,000 tons. Those Indochina nights... As the moon swims in the heavens like the corpse of a blue-eyed sailor     tossed overboard, Bombay watches, leaning on its elbow...       Bombay moon,         Arabian Sea. The fire of the Indochina sun warms the blood   lie Malacca wine. They lure sailors to gilded stars,     those Indochina nights,       those Indochina nights..."

Part Three Gioconda's End THE CITY OF SHANGHAI

Shanghai is a big port, an excellent port, It's ships are taller than horned mandarin mansions. My, my! What a strange place, this Shanghai... In the blue river boats with straw sails float. In the straw-sailed boats naked coolies sort rice,     raving of rice... My, my! What a strange place, this Shanghai... Shanghai is a big port, The whites' ships are tall, the yellows' boats are small. Shanghai is pregnant with a red-headed child. My, my!

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

Last night when the ship entered the harbor Gioconda's foot kissed the land. Shanghai the soup, she the ladle, she searched high and low for her SI-YA-U.

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

"Chinese work! Japanese work! Only two people make this - a man and a woman. Chinese work! Japanese work! Just look at the art in this latest work of LI-LI-FU." Screaming at the tip of his voice, the Chinese magician     LI. His shriveled yellow spider of a hand tossed long thin knives into the air: one one more   one   one more     five       one more. Tracing lightning-like circles in the air, his knives flew up in a steady stream. Gioconda looked, she kept looking,     she'd still be looking but, like a large-colored Chinese lantern,   the crowd swayed and became confused: "Stand back! Gang way! Chiang Kai-shek's executioner   is hunting down a new head. Stand back! Gang way!" One in front and one close behind, two Chinese shot around the corner. The one in front ran toward Gioconda. The one racing toward her, it was him, it was him - yes, him! Her SI-YA-U,   her dove,   SI-YA-U... A dull hollow stadium sound surrounded them. And in the cruel English language   stained red with the blood     of yellow Asia     the crown yelled: "He's catching up, he's catching up,     he caught-       catch him!" Just, three steps away from Gioconda's arms Chiang Kai-shek's executioner caught up. His sword   flashed... Thud of cut flesh and bone. Like a yellow sun drenched in blood SI-YA-U's head   rolled at her feet... And this on a death day Gioconda of Florence lost in Shanghai her smile more famous than Florence.

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

A Chinese bamboo frame. In the frame is a painting. Under the painting, a name:       "La Gioconda"... In the frame is a painting: the eyes of the painting are burning, burning. In the frame is painting: the painting in the frame comes alive, alive. And suddenly the painting jumped out of the frame   as if from a window;   her feet hit the ground. And just as I shouted her name she stood up straight before me: the giant woman of a colossal struggle. She walked ahead. I trailed behind. From the blazing red Tibetan sun to the China Sea   we went and came,   we came and went. I saw Gioconda   sneak out under the cover of darkness through the gates of a city in enemy hands; I saw her in a skirmish of drawn bayonets   strangle a British officer; I saw her t the head of a blue stream swimming with stars wash the lice from her dirty shirt... Huffling and puffling, a wood-burning engine dragged behind it forty red cars seating forty people each. The cars passed one by one. In the last car I saw her standing watch:   a frayed lambskin hat on her head,       boots on her feet, a leather jacket on her back...

FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK

Ah, my patient reader! Now we find ourselves in the French military court in Shanghai. The bench: four generals, fourteen colonels, and an armed black Congolese regiment. The accused: Gioconda. The attorney for the defense: an overly razed -that is, overly artistic-     French painter. The scene is set.     We're starting. "The defense attorney presents his case:" "Gentlemen, this masterpiece that stands in your presence as the accused is the most accomplished daughter of a great artist. Gentlemen, this masterpiece... Gentlemen... my mind is on fire... Gentlemen... Renaissance... Gentlemen, this masterpiece-   twice this masterpiece... Gentlemen, uniformed gentlemen..." "C-U-U-U-T! Enough. stop sputtering like a jammed machine gun! Bailiff, read the verdict." "The bailiff reads the verdict:" "The laws of France have been violated in China by the above-named Gioconda, daughter of one Leonardo. Accordingly, we sentence the accused   to death   by burning. And tomorrow night at moonrise, a Senegalese regiment   will execute said decision       of this military court..."

THE BURNING

Shanghai is a big port. The whites' ships are tall, the yellows' boats small. A thick whistle.   A thin Chinese scream. A ship steaming into the harbor   capsized a straw-sailed boat... Moonlight. Night. Handcuffed,   gioconda waits. Blow, wind, blow... A voice: "All right, the lighter. Burn, Gioconda, burn..." A silhouette advances, a flash... They lit the lighter and set Gioconda on fire. The flames painted Gioconda red. She laughed with a smile that came from her heart. Gioconda burned laughing... Art, Shmart, Masterpiece, Shmasterpiece, And so On, And So Forth, Immortality, Eternity-       H-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-Y...   "HERE ENDS MY TALE'S CONTENDING, THE REST IS LIES UNENDING..."       THE END       1929

[baohouse]

Personal framework for running a global engineering team

Five months in being Director of Engineering for a fintech startup, overseeing a small team that spans south Asia and North America, I'm building a global engineering culture that produces a high-quality technology product. Greatest challenge I've ever faced. What is helping me?

1. Being a systems thinker.

As a child my uncle would go to a used computer store, Weird Stuff, in Silicon Valley and bring home junk. I would take apart and rebuild computers. At the same time, on weekends, I would help mom look after our garden filled with abundant fruit trees.

Looking after a garden helped me practice managing micro-ecologies. I played a lot of video games growing up, notably SimCity, Civilization, and SimEarth. It was fun to explore different ways of managing complex systems (cities, nations, planet).

2. Understanding culture via ethnic studies.

I became interested in understanding my Vietnamese heritage while entering college. I became involved in Vietnamese student organizing at the school, regional, and continental level, especially organizing conferences.

I took a course in Native American Studies and Asian American Studies to help compare. What was important was to have a statistical and anecdotal view of culture. Traits can manifest by many, or by few who still see themselves part of the group.

Also important was tweaking or implementing new cultural practices. A big focus during my time as a student organizer—credit which goes to my peers—was building social cohesion among people in different geographies via group activities, e.g. scavenger hunt, trò chơi lớn.

Sometimes it failed. Other times it succeeded. Either way, a lesson learned: utilize one's upbringing, or design a way to introduce people into a new practice. Which segues into...

3. Practice marketing and product development.

I practiced asking/answering: What do people do? Is there something (a product) that exists to fulfill their needs? How can it be improved? I practiced via student community organizing, and continued having joined many tech startups.

At every startup company, we created a tech product (I developed my software engineering skills), and had to test and validate its viability. And in the context of a startup, I learned product development processes such as Agile methodology.

Culture is a product too, e.g. instituting a mentorship program, or Vietnamese New Year festival. They're not software, but it benefits from asking the same questions. Can't just do things just cuz it's always been done that way. Why do it? Otherwise people flock to alternatives.

4. Study leadership.

One way to approach it is learning the levels of leadership. The first person you lead is yourself. And then you learn to lead peers/groups, then organizations, then communities, societies, etc.

For each level one had to learn different skills. Level 1 (self) you learn self-awareness and self-love. Level 2 (peers) you learn empathy, chit chat, paired activities (hanging out; dates). Level 3 (group) you learn things like conflict resolution mediation.

Learning and practice never ends. Just because I practiced how to do it with peers my age, as time goes on, you just end up practicing with people of different backgrounds: age, origin, beliefs, life circumstances, disabilities, etc.

5. Learning and applying industrialization.

So it's one thing to learn how to create products. It's another matter to make it accessible at scale. I'll watch videos on how things are built such as how Coca-Cola Company makes soda. Or how McDonald's churn out burgers quickly.

It helps to be a systems thinker, to really identify where things get slow. When I played SimCity, I loved identifying and clearing out traffic bottlenecks. It also helps to understand lifecycles (thanks high school biology), because a lot of problems come down to timing issues.

Now... I don't have a formal training in industrial processes like Six Sigma or Toyota Production System. But it's definitely something I'm interested in. Why? Because I like to model after good practices that already exist. Which segues into...

6. Leverage partnerships and external inspirations.

An important lesson I learned while organizing in the Vietnamese nonprofit community is: if you can't do it yourself, partner with someone who can. Build their work into your flow. Or model their process.

I worked with nonprofits, so I only had shoestring budgets or volunteer hours to work with. My mentees created youth development programs by inviting staff of other nonprofits to participate. DIY is cool, but if it's not an option, collaborate.

Or if limited resources, introduce an abbreviated form. Set a goal for each team member to learn and apply one new thing each month to steer the team towards a framework. Sometimes it's about introducing terminology, because words shape our reality and the way we do things.

Sorry this is so long; really this is a brain dump. I need it because I needed to create my own personal framework for how I am running the engineering team.

#leadership

[mindfullofyoga]

Hanuman Chalisa workshop

From Flow of Grace, by KD:

I went to India in the fall of 1970 to meet Neem Karoli Baba (Maharaj-ji), after having heard about him from Ram Dass.

By the spring of 1971, I , along with some other westerners, had gone up to the Kumaon Hills, the magical foothills of the Himalayas, where Maharajji was staying at his Hanuman temple in Kainchi. We were staying at the Evelyn Hotel in the nearby hill station of Nainital. Every day we would make the one hour trip by bus along the narrow winding roads through the mountains to see him and spend the day at the temple. Each time we arrived, we were fed a huge, delicious meal of puris and potatoes and given a little booklet with a picture of Hanuman on it. One day, I happened to ask someone at the temple about them and was told that they contained a prayer to Hanuman called the Hanuman Chalisa. The Hanuman Chalisa is a hymn of forty verses that describes and praises the life, character, and exploits of Hanuman. At that moment, I had the idea to try to learn it so we could sing it to Maharajji.

Rameshwar Das, another American, and I began to learn the Hindi alphabet. We transcribed the whole prayer and were taught a melody by an Indian friend. It took the whole rainy season and summer to begin to feel comfortable singing the Chalisa. By the time we returned to Nainital and Kainchi, most of the other westerners had copied it into their books and had begun to learn it as well. We hadn't even memorized six verses when one afternoon we were called to the front of the temple where Maharajji was sitting. He was very excited and said , " Sing the Chalisa!"

We were completely unprepared but managed to sing the few verses we knew. He laughed and was very happy.

We quickly became an official part of the 'show.'

When Indian devotees came to see him, Maharajji would often call us and have us sing the Chalisa. No matter how many times we did it, he would always look totally surprised-with a look of joy and amazement on His face, as if it were the first time he had ever heard it.

He would laughingly tease his Indian devotees for their lack of devotion and sincerity, saying , " look at these people. Out of their love for God, they have left everything behind in America, while you wicked, greedy people come to see me out of your own selfish desires!"

Of course, it was all part of his unique way of teaching everyone their own special lesson.

We began to chant the Hanuman Chalisa as a way of bringing ourselves into Maharajji's physical presence.

It was a way of expressing our love and devotion to him.

For us, Hanuman and Maharajji were the same.

Chanting the Chalisa to Maharajji helped us enter into the love that his presence embodied.

It became a way of deepening our relationship with him, and ultimately with ourselves.

It has been thirty-three years since Maharajji has left his body, and chanting the Chalisa has become an even more powerful way for me to enter into the flow of Love and Grace.

In the Chalisa, we bow to the great beauty, strength, and devotion that Hanuman embodies ; we also begin to bow to that place in ourselves.

The Chalisa inspires us to try  to become like him, to make the mirror of our heart as clean as Hanuman's so that we can become aware of the great beauty and love that lives within us, our own true nature., the One

without a second.

This is the Great being known by many names throughout the many spiritual and religious traditions in the world.

Each culture and each religion has its own coloured glasses through which it sees the universe. The reports from the frontlines differ only in form, not in substance. They are all looking at the same thing.

Maharajji would continually remind us that it is all One. Over and over he said ,"Hanuman, Christ, and Krishna are the same," and "all paths lead to the same goal."

Again and again, he turned us to the oneness of life, reminding us that 'the same blood runs through everyone's veins."

It was through reading and chanting the Hanuman Chalisa that I began to understand the subtlety and power of the path of devotion and the sublime way that love can transform the hardest heart into the heart of a saint.

It is love that brings meaning to our lives. The path of love goes right through the middle of every heart. No one is locked out. No one is turned away. No one is unworthy.

The love that lives within each and every being is Bhagavan; it is Ram, Buddha nature, the Atman, the Great Goddess, the Self, the One. It is who we are- our own True Nature, radiant and shining like a million suns.We long to be with the Beloved , to feel that presence of love in our hearts, but in the eyes of God, we have never been separate-not even for a second.

The Hanuman Chalisa is chanted specifically to clean the mirror of our hearts so we can become into direct contact with the grace of Hanuman. His Grace awakens us to the awareness of Ram's presence within.This is when our hearts truly come alive.

#hanuman chalisa #hanuman chaleesa #Hanuman #workshop #chant #bhakti yoga #Amsterdam #Jordaan studio #krishna das #neem karoli baba #neemkarolibaba #Chalisa

[learnplantsblog]

How French Lessons on Skype can Save Your Time and Money

Have you ever watched a gorgeous French film set in Paris? If you did, you undoubtedly wished to be able to speak French! This desire is understandable: it is a lovely language that may be used in various places of the world. Not to add how much French people like it when you greet them in their native tongue rather than English! But how will you achieve your new language endeavor in time?

Ways to learn French

There seem to be online answers for anything in today’s internet-driven culture. And the same is true for language acquisition! But since there are too many Skype French lessons websites available nowadays, it is easy to get boggled. Not to forget the other options! So, if you want to study French online, let us offer you some choices. But first, let’s understand how learning French online can help you save a lot of time, money, and effort.

Six benefits to learn French online using Skype

Here are six benefits why you should study French using Skype. Hopefully, after you’ve gone through them, you’ll finally be willing to schedule your initial free French class from just about anywhere!

Learn from Native French Speakers.

Save time

Study according to your schedule

Save money

Be efficient.

Have fun while learning French over Skype.

If you can communicate regularly with a native French speaker, that is the best method to learn French, but you are aware that finding a native-speaking instructor who is just as close to you and skilled is difficult. But here’s a workable answer: Study French on Skype and communicate with a native speaker at any time of day… and from any location!

You are no more required to commute to your French class. You are no longer wasting time, and you are saving money! All you need to do is find a peaceful location with Internet access, and your Skype French session can commence!

You may have your French class as often as you desire. Learnplant’s French tutors are available for customized lessons in the time slot of your choice, so you are sure to find a time that works for you. You no more have to work around offline class schedules. You may learn whenever you want via Skype!

Virtual French classes are less expensive than those provided by a language class or a good teacher who takes classes at your home. You would also end up saving money on traveling and munching after the classes.

When you study French lessons on Skype, you may achieve the same level of skill as if you took a regular course.

Lastly, you’re having a good time studying French over Skype! Our skilled tutor, Sherebanu, is empathetic and professional. She makes learning French easier and more fun for you. We offer approaches and topics that are both useful and engaging. We allow you to learn and discuss everything that might be of use to your journey in finding the right job, studying better in your college, or just conversing with your friends.

Contact us at [phone] or write to us to know more about Learnplant and begin studying French right away! Original blog posted here - https://learnplant.com/blog/how-french-lessons-on-skype-can-save-your-time-and-money/

#french lessons on skype

[thatmcgwords]

“No one starts out knowing how one plus one equals two. One thing highly successful people do is dream big, start small no matter the lack of resources, and then keep improving over time.”

A great mark of success is that you never stop learning. ~ Duncan Clark

“So, what makes Alibaba stand out this much? Three things, which Jack Ma calls the iron triangle: ecommerce, logistics, and finance.”

“Nothing makes e–commerce more reliable than a quick and efficient delivery system. Alibaba knows this well.”

You may start losing customers when people know your business doesn't handle their online transactions with utmost priority. ~ Duncan Clark

Alibaba operates on six value systems called the Six Vein Spirit Sword. They are: customer first, teamwork, embrace change, integrity, passion, and commitment. ~ Duncan Clark

“If you're the founder or executive of a company, it will be difficult to separate your personality from the company's culture. You will always shape and influence the work culture your employees will find themselves in because you're the major decision maker. As such, it's necessary to be a person of character. Be inspiring, exciting, positive, and motivating.”

“When you venture into a business that is not very common, you will have difficulty making progress. This is because people can seldom tell the value of your product or service. If you find yourself in such a situation, the only way out is to invest massively in awareness campaigns.”

“The first thing to learn from Jack Ma about dreams is you can never go beyond them. If you dream small, you will indefinitely put in small effort and that will lead to small achievements. But big dreams will inspire you to break limits.”

“The second lesson is to start where you are, with the experience and resources that you've got.”

“The third lesson is similar to the second: do not copy your competitors because you don't know the whole story. Find what works for you and stick to it.”

Patience and good strategies are two important factors that will take you far in business. ~ Duncan Clark

“We can learn a couple of things from Jack Ma's strategy. The first is the element of surprise. Jack Ma started the plan for Taobao, his consumer ecommerce business, underground”

“The second lesson from Jack Ma about beating a strong competitor is doing things differently. No one will patronize your new business when they don't see how it is different from the existing brand that they love and trust. Two things that made Taobao different from eBay are pricing and communication. EBay charged merchants some amount for product listing, whereas Taobao made it free for anyone to put up their product or service on the site.”

You should learn from your competitor but never copy. Copy and you die. ~ Jack Ma

“It takes persistence and grit to found and run a successful company. You will encounter challenges along the way, no doubt, but commitment to your initial dream is what will keep you going during tough times.

Most entrepreneurs start their business without a well documented business vision. This is a risky thing to do. Challenges and difficult times are bound to come in business, it's easy to give in when you don't have a written vision for your business. The vision you pen down before starting the business is one of the things you will rely on for motivation when the going gets tough.

In business, you're almost certain to have competitors. There are two ways to deal with them. First is to use the element of surprise. The second is developing a solid business strategy that includes meeting essential customer needs that your competitors are neglecting.”

“Try this

If you've started a business or plan on doing so, there's one important exercise to carry out. Write down your vision for that business. Make it as detailed as it can be. Next, place it somewhere you can see it regularly. This will help keep you motivated”

https://headway.onelink.me/9USK?pid=app_referral&af_web_dp=https%3A%2F%2Fweb.get-headway.com%2Fbook%2F&c=highlight&af_siteid=highlights

#headway

[thxnews]

Prison Sentences for Staffordshire Waste Crime

The recent sentencing of multiple individuals involved in a significant waste crime operation at Bonnie Braes Farm serves as a stark reminder of the consequences of flouting environmental regulations. The convoluted saga of illegal dumping, which resulted in substantial prison sentences for several defendants, underscores a systemic challenge facing both the legal and environmental sectors.  

The Anatomy of an Environmental Catastrophe

At the heart of this debacle is the illicit disposal of over 100,000 tonnes of waste, a volume so substantial that it altered the landscape of Bonnie Braes Farm by elevating its terrain by six to seven meters. This operation not only violated the sanctity of environmental regulations but also jeopardized critical infrastructure, including a gas distribution pipeline vital to Stoke-on-Trent's energy supply. The repercussions of such recklessness—potentially disrupting gas supply and necessitating the closure of the busy A500—highlight the intersection of environmental law and public safety.   Judicial Recourse and Environmental Ethics The response from the judicial system, led by Mr. Recorder Nicholls, was both swift and severe, categorizing the environmental harm as Category 1—the most serious under UK law. The sentences meted out to the individuals involved, including custodial sentences for Raymond Bowden and Joe Frizell, alongside significant fines for corporate entities, reflect a judicial acknowledgement of the severity of their crimes. These outcomes not only serve as punitive measures but also as deterrents, emphasizing the broader societal imperative to protect our environment from such unscrupulous activities.  

The Ripple Effects on Business and Society

This case transcends the immediate legal and environmental implications, shedding light on the broader socio-economic impacts of waste crime. Illegal operations like the one at Bonnie Braes Farm undermine legitimate businesses, distort market prices, and erode public trust in industry compliance with environmental standards. The Environment Agency's plea for public vigilance and adherence to waste management protocols underscores the collective responsibility in combating such crimes.   A Call to Action The ramifications of the Staffordshire waste crime saga extend beyond the courtroom and the confines of Bonnie Braes Farm. This episode serves as a wake up call for a concerted effort among businesses, regulatory bodies, and the public to foster a culture of environmental integrity. The adoption of stringent waste management practices, coupled with proactive regulatory oversight, can mitigate the risk of similar incidents in the future. Moreover, it highlights the need for enhanced public awareness and participation in environmental conservation efforts.   Bridging the Gap In the aftermath of the Staffordshire waste crime, a reflective analysis reveals critical lessons for policymakers, business leaders, and citizens alike. As we navigate the complexities of environmental governance and corporate responsibility, this case illustrates the indispensable role of legal frameworks in safeguarding our natural heritage. However, it also emphasizes the importance of moral and ethical stewardship in the business realm, where the pursuit of profit must be balanced with ecological and societal considerations.   Looking Ahead The Staffordshire waste crime incident is a sobering testament to the fragility of our environment and the imperative for vigilant protection. It underscores the necessity for a harmonious coexistence between industrial activities and environmental stewardship, guided by both legal principles and ethical responsibility. As we move forward, let this case serve as a reminder of the consequences of negligence and the collective duty to preserve our planet for future generations.   Sources: THX News & Environment Agency. Read the full article

#BonnieBraesFarmwastedumping #Corporateresponsibilityinwastemanagement #EnvironmentalAgencyprosecution #Environmentalpermitviolations #IllegalwastecrimeStaffordshire #Large-scalewastedumpingconsequences #Publicsafetyandenvironmentalcrime #Staffordshirewastedisposalprison #WastecrimelegaloutcomesUK #WastemanagementlawsUK

[thinkgrowgames]

The Atlas of Worldly Wisdom

Reading List

The different stages below include chronological suggested readings that will help in understanding and appreciating important ideas and perspectives. Some of these super ideas have been mentioned in The Atlas of Worldly Wisdom, and others serve to build on certain themes.

The assumption is that between half an hour to one hour per day can be dedicated to this project

this is where the expected timeline for each stage comes

The different readings and suggestions are included in tabular form in the last page of this document. They have been categorized into the different spirals and the different stages. To get the complete information about any of the books, check the ‘References’ document.

Stage 1 : Basics-I – 10 Books – ~ 4 months

Six Thinking Hats (De Bono)

The Lessons of History (Durant)

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (Covey)

The Mind Map Book (Buzan)

What the Numbers Say (Niederman)

The Art of War (Sun Tzu)

Think-Grow Modules : Personalities & Behavior 1

Think-Grow Modules : Succeed

Think-Grow Modules : Win-Win

Choose One :

How to Win Friends and Influence People (Carnegie)

One of [ Brain Power or Verbal Intelligence ] (Both by Buzan)

1 For the Think-Grow Modules, check out the ‘Apps List’ Document, or go to: ahijazi.website

Stage 2 : Basics-II – 10 Books – ~ 4 months

How to think like Leonardo Da Vinci (Gelb)

Thinking in Systems (Meadows)

Choose One :

Atomic Habits (Clear) or Tiny Habits (Fogg)

The Psychology of Money (Housel)

Peak (Ericsson)

Think-Grow Modules : The Better Brain Library

Naked Statistics (Wheelan)

Choose One:

The Richest Man in Babylon (Clason)

Cashflow Quadrant (Kiyosaki)

Think-Grow Modules : Lead

Choose One:

Building a Second Brain (Forte)

Net Work (Anklam)

Stage 3 : Insights & Synthesis – 10 Books – 4 to 5 months

Fuzzy on the Dark Side (Hijazi)

The New Leaders (Goleman)

The Art of Worldly Wisdom (Gracian)

The Art of Thinking Clearly (Dobelli)

The 80/20 Principle (Koch)

Creativity, (Catmull)

Emotional Intelligence (Goleman)

Choose One :

Freakonomics (Levitt)

The Great Mental Models-I (Parrish)

One Small Step : The Kaizen Way (Maurer)

The one left/not chosen from 10 [Stage 2]

Stage 4 (Mastery & Further) and Stage 5 (Cultured : Beyond) include a total of 16 books, but these will (probably) take significantly longer to finish than those in Stages 1 to 3.

I believe that going forward, personal tastes and preferences can play a bigger role. These are landmark books that will expand your knowledge and awareness into key fields and to include important super ideas. Choose the ones you prefer, but try to keep moving between the categories of the Triple-Spiral (Awareness, Intent, Creativeness).

As you read the books in this category, many ideas for further readings will come up. The path should get progressively more interesting as you advance and customize it further with more personally-relevant choices.

Stage 4 : Mastery & Further – 10 Books – 4 to 5 months

Gifts Differing (Meyer-Briggs)

Choose One:

Good Strategy Bad Strategy (Rumelt)

Steal Like an Artist (Kleon)

The Bed of Procrustes (Taleb)

Fooled by Randomness (Taleb)

Skin in the Game (Taleb)

Choose One:

Scientific Revolutions (Kuhn)

The one left/not chosen from 8 [Stage 3]

Book of your choice on Design Thinking & Creativity

Book of your choice on the Philosophy of Science

Book of your choice from cognitive science

Book of your choice from Popular Science (Evolutionary Biology or Quantum Physics)

Next you can go through the list of books I’ve included in the ‘Cultured: Beyond’ category, and keep growing your knowledge and understanding of the world and yourself.

This reading list is a work-in-progress. It will keep changing and will be updated regularly (I hope).

On the following page you can see the suggested readings as a table, categorized by level and dimension.

Good Luck!

[viciouslyfilthy]

Joy and Prosperity.

((What started off as a small dash comm. ic as Sün turned into a whole ass mini OC interaction djdjd enjoy some new year angst (?) Writing with everyone's favourite old man group !! Happy New Year 🐀🐀))

•

•

"It's my... hmm.. what a human would call birthday~ and I've been away far too long from my beloved, loyal guardians and defenders of my flock~" the Summer spirit cheerfully declared as he stomped into view.

The gang's all here! The other six sins sat by a long table, within what seemed to be a cave-like structure; it's 'walls' were littered with human skulls and overall remains, barely lit by torches some of Sün's cult members had set up.

Claude shifted nervously in his seat: they were deep within the Catacombs of Paris. He hated this place. It reeked of death and dread.

"Bring me a glass of water! Immédiatement! (Immediately!)" The aristocrat demanded as he looked over from his seat to where some members of the flock were located, hooded figures hidden within a tunnel entrance, watching from afar curiously.

"With all due respect, My Lord, if we want to get specific- this date of the year would be according to the Gregorian Calendar." Freddy spoke up, his emerald green eyes watching as a sheepish, hooded follower brought Claude his requested drink- which he pompously snatched away from the person's gentle grasp, causing them to flinch and quickly retreating back to where they belonged. Far from the table.

The personification of Wrath continued, "There are many, many different calendars depending on time periods, cultures- old and recent... that mark different dates of when the 'world' would have 'started', in a way. You understand." He said, before Eden quickly chipped in:

"Y-yes! He's right!"

"And even with our oldest recorded calendar... the mesolithic arrangement, dating all the way to back 8 thousand years Before Christ, as you'll know-" Freddy paused again, expecting Eden to continue- to which he wasted no time:

"The exact timing, date of the very 'beginning' of our life, more importantly- yours... fro-..from the moment you begun to breathe o-on this planet... to when you actually became self-aware and concious as an entity... remains to be unclear and unknown, eh.." the priest trailed off, resting both of his bony old hands over his belly, shyly smiling. Happy to share information alongside his best friend.

"Yes?" Sün simply asked, leaning over the table as two of his claws tapped on it's wooden surface.

The rat-priest awkwardly had a staring match with the deity, growing uncertain if he was meant to reply...

"Are you both quite done with your history lesson?" Sün asked once he was met with silence, his tone condescending. The air tensed up a little with this response.

"I've said this before, and I'll say it again: I do not care for date accuracies. What matters is the planet having successfully spun around, completing the three-hundred-sixty-five solar days. Another year... not in celebration of my birth, you fools. My aging is not as limited as a human or an animal, to be celebrated; another year in celebratrion of the very planet WE LIVE ON!" Sün suddenly screamed, his tone abruptly going from calm and collected- to absolute fury as he slammed a clenched, clawed fist down on the table and causing it to shake.

This caught off guard many of the sins- Claude choked on his drink, causing it to spill over his chest a little; Rotgut and Eden flinched back in their seat; Jeremiah simply lifted his head up from his palm and his gaze finally focusing on the angered God, and Willy practically fell out of his chair with a yelp and cowered in fear, pathetically hiding behind Eden's chair, shakingly clutching at his clothing.

Freddy was the only one that remained perfectly still and unphased by Sün's reaction, although he begun to sweat as he nervously looked down at his hands, worrying for his friend's safety.

Silence. Some cult members could be heard whispering amongst themselves.

"I keep this beauty alive. My heart makes it thrive with life. I want what my essence keeps alive to be cared for and praised. And I myself want to be given the respect and acknowledgement I deserve." He rambled as his heavy footsteps echoed, he circled around the table, observing each and every one of the sins.

Willy scrambled underneath the table, fearfully hugging Eden's legs as Sün's walking pace slowed as he approached the rat-priest, until he fully stopped right behind him. Eden didn't dare turn around, he was shaking with dread and fear. His rats within him squirmed and anxiously gnawed on his bones.

"And what do I get instead?" Sün asked condescendingly as a clawed, dark hand gently wrapped around the old priest's neck, "Disappointment. With useless information I have lived through." His warm grip quickly intensifying in heat and tightening around him. The poor man could feel his rats, his precious babies, squeak in fear and worming around his insides in an attempt to get away from the heat.

They would burst out of him. They didn't want to, but they would dig their way out in an instinctive attempt to escape the rising heat, just like that one old torture method...

Freddy's hands clutched together with anxiety, though he kept an emotionless face; Rotgut seemed to want to say something, but he felt... cowardice, he felt his words would hold no value even if he tried, Sün would just brush him aside, no...?

Finally, as if by miracle, liquid getting splashed on the cruel deity's hand caught his (and Eden's) attention; the heat quickly vanished and his grip softened.

Claude held his empty glass before the both of them, it dripped some droplets of water still; he was standing up from his chair.

"Suffit. (Enough.) " He mused, his tone flat and slightly bothered- as if he was watching some high school drama and was annoyed by it.

"Indeed. I think that would be enough for all of us." Freddy chimed in, suddenly grabbing the God's wretched hand and tearing it from his friend's neck with force as he, too, stood up from his chair. Now he did have an expression on his face: frustration, anger.

Eden gulped heavily, his rats still tense but slightly more relaxed; he stumbled his way up, avoiding Sün like the plague as he speed-walked to the other side of the table with Willy in tow, the wild fox-man absolutely terrified still- he couldn't even choke up one word, only heavy breathing.

"Unless you wish to start your new year by starting petty fights in front of your flock, when we're all supposed to bask in your glory, hm?" The scientist added, now using that same condescending tone.

"Wouldn't that be hypocritcal and embarassing, My Lord?" He practically hissed that title between gritted teeth as he stared daggers into Sün's glowing pupils, the ponytail holder beginning to make a sizzling sound before breaking and freeing the man's milky-white locks; his mane growing warm as the tips of his hair became almost flame-like.

"Drama de ano novo... de novo. Exatamente o que eu desejava. (new year drama... again. Just what I wished for.)" Jeremiah mumbled to himself quietly in a sarcastic tone as he rubbed his eyes with two fingers, tired of this already.

"... very well." Sün replied, his collected tone 'miraculously' returning- although he tore his hand away from Freddy's grip.

They both continued to silently stare at eachother for a moment, as if they were intensely fighting only with eachother's gaze. And just like that they parted ways, Freddy going over to be by his friend's side.

"I suppose it would be more of a waste of my valuable time..." the deity continued,

"Such a little thing such as a rat wouldn't be worth the punishment during such an important but short event... even if the year date of our universe never changes...ah, the 'canon', as the modern term puts it." Sün chuckled lightly at pronouncing that 'modern' word.

#eternal sunlight ( sün ) #from my mouth to yours ( rotgut ) #look at that disgusting display ( claude ) #the father ( eden ) #rabid jealousy ( willy ) #get out of my sight ( freddy ) #greed has no limit ( jeremiah ) #emotional abuse tw #abuse tw #torture tw #also yeah sün breaks the fourth wall at the end whoops. #he is allowed a little self-awareness of the world he lives in. as a treat /j

[englishplusacademy]

Best online Spoken English Institute

In the contemporary world, where the world is developing with great pace  , english classes are of paramount importance for several reasons. Firstly, English is considered the global lingua franca , facilitating communications across borders, cultures and professions. English classes are educational courses focused on teaching the language efficiently and they cover various aspects of the language including grammar, vocabulary, reading, writing, speaking and listening. The upskilling of English language by improving fluency in speaking and and polishing your writing skill opens doors to countless job opportunities and career advancement.

Our journey began with the youngsters, who followed the same dream of giving something back to society and who had an ardent passion for mastering the English language. Focusing on the issues that they faced after graduating from college, they realized the need for proper skill-based training in the English language which would enable the students to use the language in real life. Hence, on 27th August 2020, they gave life to their idea and 'English Plus' was born.

You only need to SPEAK! Speak consistently with anyone who is able to connect to you and provide you with constructive criticism. Before you point it out, we are aware that it can be difficult to locate someone who will consistently listen to your sloppy English and offer to help you correct it. For this reason, we have created customised one-on-one English speaking lessons just for you, where you may practise your communication skills in general as well as speaking well in front of an expert. A completely language trainer-led specialised course to boost your confidence while polishing your grammar, vocabulary, and pronunciation.

For those who want to improve their English language abilities but find communication and comprehension to be a bit difficult, we offer a Basic Level English Course. You will be learning the fundamentals of the English language throughout the course, including sentence structure, common expressions, and grammar rules. The programme also emphasises speech improvement and vocabulary growth. The course includes 60 days of robust online training and offers an organised learning environment. Your trip doesn't finish there, though , you still have another six months to continue honing your abilities.

We also provide secondary level classes, which are adapted for students who struggle with more sophisticated grammar and vocabulary but can speak and understand with some reasonable proficiency and use simple tenses and advanced level classes, which are adapted for students who speak and understand quite well but occasionally struggle with new language and circumstances.

English speaking and listening skills are the main goals of online spoken English classes, which are virtual language learning sessions. Online English classes offer interactive conversations, a structured curriculum covering grammar, vocabulary, and pronunciation, flexible scheduling, and access to experienced instructors. These classes provide a supportive environment for effective communication and allow learners to practice speaking in a supportive environment. Experienced instructors provide guidance and feedback on language skills.

English Plus has become known as one of the top online language learning resource thanks to its unwavering commitment to giving students the best possible educational experience. We are your dependable partner on the road to language proficiency thanks to our extensive resources, qualified instructors, and dedication to customization. Find out why English Plus is the top option for language learners by joining us.

#englishplusacademy #onlineenglish #learnenglish

[mandyjane-lifedesign]

Relationship & Dating Age Gap Rules – Does Age Matter in Love & Romance

Ah, love! That intangible, indescribable feeling that makes the world go 'round. When Cupid's arrow strikes, it doesn’t check birth certificates. Age gap relationships, while occasionally subject to scrutiny, embody the timeless nature of love. They are testament to the fact that when it comes to matters of the heart, love knows no age. Here’s what you need to know: Depth Beyond Numbers Age, often seen as just a numerical representation, fails to capture the essence of a person’s experiences, maturity, or emotional depth. Many of us have met wise-beyond-their-years 25-year-olds and playful 50-year-olds. It's not the years in your life, but the life in your years that counts. You can give this link a peek https://www.taylorsnowromance.com/ - Older Men Dating Younger Women Relationships to broaden your horizons on this topic. A Spectrum of Perspectives Different age brackets often bring unique viewpoints, colored by distinct generational experiences. In a relationship, this can pave the way for enriching conversations, helping partners learn and grow from each other's experiences. Shared Passions What really binds people together? It’s not the year they were born in, but shared dreams, mutual interests, and complementary life goals. Navigating Love in the 40s Being over 40 and looking to mingle with the younger crowd might seem daunting. But with the right approach, it's entirely achievable. Here are some friendly tips to bridge the age gap: Prioritize health and well-being No, you don't need a six-pack, but maintaining an active lifestyle and a balanced diet can work wonders. It keeps you agile, glowing, and oozing confidence. Whether it's weekly tennis, yoga, or even just daily walks, find what keeps you moving. Find out more helpful info here. Spruce up your wardrobe Fashion isn't just for the young. Update your style with modern yet age-appropriate outfits. The aim isn't to mimic youth, but to showcase that you're in tune with the times and comfortable in your skin. Immerse in their world Get genuinely curious. What are the challenges and excitements of someone in their 20s or 30s today? While you don't have to become an expert on every Gen-Z meme, understanding their passions and concerns helps in forging deeper connections. Stay informed Brush up on current events and trending cultural phenomena. It provides great conversation starters, ensuring you're never out of depth in discussions. Embrace your age Your age is an asset. It comes with a treasure trove of experiences, lessons, and tales. It brings stability, wisdom, and a different kind of allure. Expand your social circles Attend events, join clubs, or engage in activities that attract a mixed-age crowd. Shared activities provide a natural setting to meet and connect, without the age being the focal point. Honest communication Always be upfront about your intentions. Age can bring differences in life goals – from career ambitions to family planning. Clear communication helps in setting expectations right from the start. Empathy above all Remember, despite age differences, the core human desires remain the same – understanding, respect, and love. Being empathetic to the experiences of your younger partner helps in bridging any age-related disparities. Is it okay to date younger women? Although dating someone far younger than you is typically considered to be respectable, there are a few key things you should bear in mind before jumping in. Getting on the same page with one another regarding the expectations that each of you has for the relationship should be the first and most crucial step. Be certain that your partner shares your goals for a meaningful and long-term commitment if those are the kinds of things you're searching for in a relationship. In a similar vein, if you don't wish to have children, you should make your partner aware of this fact as soon as possible. In addition to this, it's essential to keep an eye out for any potential power dynamics that may exist between the two of you. Always maintain a respectful and friendly attitude toward your partner, and under no circumstances should you take advantage of their younger years and naivete. How do I make them interested in me? Keeping up with the latest trends and popular culture is essential if you want to maintain your appeal to younger ladies.   This could mean following popular accounts on social media platforms, keeping up with current events, or viewing popular shows and movies that are currently airing on television. It is also essential to have an inquisitive and open mindset, as well as a willingness to experiment with new activities and try out different things. This could involve sampling new foods, going to new places, or engaging in new hobbies. You can make a more lasting connection with younger ladies if you maintain an active and inquisitive behavior. What if my loved ones disapprove? It's crucial to have a frank discussion with your friends and family if they're not totally okay with you dating a younger woman. Share your emotions and your motivations for continuing the connection and be receptive to their thoughts and feelings while you do so. Your life and your choice are your responsibility, but you should still consider the feelings of people that care about you. But don't let the criticisms and assessments of others control your behavior, either. Follow your gut and do what you think is best for you and your relationship. A few final words Love, with its boundless energy, doesn't confine itself to age brackets. While societal norms and stereotypes might sometimes cast shadows on age gap relationships, what truly matters is the bond between two people. Age might bring with it certain challenges, but with understanding, effort, and genuine affection, these can be easily overcome. So, whether you're venturing into the world of age gap dating or just curious about its dynamics, remember, age is just one of the many hues in the vibrant palette of a relationship. When love is the artist, the canvas is always a masterpiece. Read the full article

[kammartinez]

If you care about books, read more than just a handful on holiday, or have been in a bookshop recently, you will be aware of BookTok: a book community on TikTok. The videos shared on BookTok include fiction recommendations, summaries of the lessons of non-fiction releases, tips on how to become a better reader, and personality quizzes (what popular novel fits your star sign?). On TikTok the hashtag #BookTok has more than 160 billion views, and drives millions upon millions of book sales.

This certainly seems like a good thing – we should be glad more young people are reading. But while BookTok has caused a surge in reading (or at least in book-buying), it tends to promote a particular type of book: conventional romance novels, trashy thrillers, self-help and the kind of scientifically dubious non-fiction you’d be be recommended by an account manager on LinkedIn. Within this already narrow field, an even smaller number of books and authors appear repeatedly: Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus, They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera, or anything by the “queen of BookTok” Colleen Hoover.

The rise of BookTok and the new popularity of these types of books has sparked the growth of a specific, lucrative publishing market. Last week the Bookseller reported that ByteDance, TikTok’s parent company, had begun approaching potential authors in the UK to become the first to work with its new publishing house, 8th Note Press. It had been rumoured since May that the company would move in that direction, and the Bookseller reports that one author the company approached (seemingly a BookToker) received a low advance offer (just £2,675) and digital-only publication in the first instance. A story from the New York Times earlier this month found American authors were being courted in a similarly haphazard fashion – and that ByteDance had hired Katherine Pelz, a former Penguin Random House editor specialising in romance, as its new acquisitions editor.

The creation of a TikTok-specific press feels almost inevitable. It comes alongside the rise of not just BookTok but influencer publishing generally, when people with large online fanbases become the authors of memoirs and unoriginal novels that top best-seller lists. In recent years, dedicated literary agencies have been founded to sell books by YouTubers and TikTok stars, and it has become commonplace to see Instagram entrepreneurs pick up six-figure book deals. ByteDance’s 8th Note Press, however, could be the first sign of a new shift: instead of allowing the publishing industry to capitalise on those with big social media presences, social media platforms are attempting to keep the profits for themselves.

This isn’t necessarily bad for books – but it’s unlikely to be a good thing. Publishing – like most creative industries – already, overwhelmingly, produces formulaic, mundane works that appeal to trends to make a quick buck. It’s an industry that knows most people barely read (the median person reads three to five books a year in the UK) and that, when they do, they tend to want something popular, straightforward and breezy. This doesn’t leave a lot of commercial space for challenging or innovative stories, or for taking a risk on lesser-known authors.

The problem isn’t that the books published by 8th Note will be cheap and poor quality (though most probably will be). The problem is that this signals a culture-wide shift in which social media trends dictate how art is produced. This isn’t just happening in books – in film, TV, music, artists are being lifted directly from social media. Today, one of the quickest ways to find creative success is to go viral first.

The result is that every creative industry is saturated with the same smooth, unchallenging content – we see things we’ve seen a million times before, with slightly different characters, in a slightly different setting, confronting a slightly different twist after their slightly different meet-cute. What does anyone gain from consuming near-identical stories over and over? While they may be easy to sell and appeal to a large demographic of readers, they are also part of a self-fulfilling prophecy: when only certain stories are promoted, and readers are given so few options, these will inevitably remain popular. (I’d guess most readers would be interested in perspectives that offered them something new.)

BookTok success is not a science. As one friend in publishing told me, BookTok campaigns yield inconsistent results and you can’t guarantee, even with the best marketing team in the world, that your new release will be embraced by the community. But it feels inevitable that a press like 8th Note will become a major player in the publishing landscape. While plumbing the depths of BookTok may yield a handful of good books, we shouldn’t expect it to unearth stories or voices that are new. It will elevate more of the same, drowning out the unusual or the unexpected – even if they don’t make it on to the average bookshop window display.

#books #publishing #internet #tiktok