via https://ift.tt/2ZyC9Py
andern3llart:
Ahhh yes, fall in love with the character that speaks 5 words. Good Plan. Yes.
andern3llart:
Ahhh yes, fall in love with the character that speaks 5 words. Good Plan. Yes.
Sep. 3rd, 2019
via https://ift.tt/2PzOP41
cetaceanxneeded:
here are some lessons i’ve learned working in an octopus cognition lab.
[image description:
Keep reading
cetaceanxneeded:
here are some lessons i’ve learned working in an octopus cognition lab.
[image description:
Keep reading
via https://ift.tt/2zMjGQd
blanska:
classicaldynamics:
future-struggling-musician:
Always reblog when I see this video
and people say the baroque times weren’t fun. it was lit af back then. bach was turnt
blanska:
classicaldynamics:
future-struggling-musician:
Always reblog when I see this video
and people say the baroque times weren’t fun. it was lit af back then. bach was turnt
via https://ift.tt/34npoWL
inchells:
Commission for![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jathis ! Techie with big bro Hux. Thank you for commissioning me !
inchells:
Commission for
jathis ! Techie with big bro Hux. Thank you for commissioning me !via https://ift.tt/2ZPlWFf
queenstardust:
Armitage (13, scared)
An inevitable drawing after last night´s comic preview.
queenstardust:
Armitage (13, scared)
An inevitable drawing after last night´s comic preview.
via https://ift.tt/2LmgSi3
itssteffnow:
Another commission I did for a nice person over on twitter. Requested was femlux and what can I say… I’m a huge femlux fan myself so I really enjoyed this one! And… Kylos leather trousers…oh my xD (And it was my first time using procreate too^^)
itssteffnow:
Another commission I did for a nice person over on twitter. Requested was femlux and what can I say… I’m a huge femlux fan myself so I really enjoyed this one! And… Kylos leather trousers…oh my xD (And it was my first time using procreate too^^)
via https://ift.tt/2MUoJ9J
the100-shit:
thefingerfuckingfemalefury:
neshtasplace:
mpreg-tony:
uncontrollablyspooky:
I PHYSICALLY CAN’T NOT REBLOG THIS WHEN IT COMES UP ON MY DASH
IT’S TOO COOL
It’s called Winterguard. It’s a sport. Those girls are marching band color-guard girls during the summer touring season, and during the winter they compete against other color-guard teams to music. Costumes, props, mats, everything has to be carried onto the gym floor and then taken back away and counts as part of your performance time.
So when Family Guy or other popular media makes fun of color-guard girls, it pisses me off. We are not rejected cheerleaders. We are what you see above. We kick ass. We spin rifles and flags and sabers.
Gods, women are just…. *flexes hands” SO amazing!
HELLA COOL
Speaking as someone who lived and breathed cheerleading for five years of her life, color guard girls are fucking cool as hell and I WISH I could pull off the shit they do.
the100-shit:
thefingerfuckingfemalefury:
neshtasplace:
mpreg-tony:
uncontrollablyspooky:
I PHYSICALLY CAN’T NOT REBLOG THIS WHEN IT COMES UP ON MY DASH
IT’S TOO COOL
It’s called Winterguard. It’s a sport. Those girls are marching band color-guard girls during the summer touring season, and during the winter they compete against other color-guard teams to music. Costumes, props, mats, everything has to be carried onto the gym floor and then taken back away and counts as part of your performance time.
So when Family Guy or other popular media makes fun of color-guard girls, it pisses me off. We are not rejected cheerleaders. We are what you see above. We kick ass. We spin rifles and flags and sabers.
Gods, women are just…. *flexes hands” SO amazing!
HELLA COOL
Speaking as someone who lived and breathed cheerleading for five years of her life, color guard girls are fucking cool as hell and I WISH I could pull off the shit they do.
via https://ift.tt/2ZLCzx6
why-i-love-comics:
Black Panther #15 - “Two Thousand Seasons” (2019)
written by Ta-Nehisi Coates
art by Daniel Acuna
why-i-love-comics:
Black Panther #15 - “Two Thousand Seasons” (2019)
written by Ta-Nehisi Coates
art by Daniel Acuna
Stop Calling It “Casual Sex”
Sep. 3rd, 2019 03:46 pmvia https://ift.tt/30PASAe
Stop Calling It “Casual Sex”:
beachdeath:
I see now as an adult that we use the phrases “casual sex” and “hooking up” as shields against vulnerability, trust and compassion. They create a false binary between casual sex and serious sex, turning emotional nuance into a shameful trap and not a normal side effect of two humans interacting. “Casual” lets us stop caring about each other and ourselves, positioning sex as about the individual and not the couple because when it’s over, we are alone again. It is supposed to be an impersonal act of taking pleasure rather than creating it together. It’s physical, unemotional. Serious sex within a relationship means that you care. Casual sex, then, is careless. And if you care, you lose.
I wish I’d known sooner that the careless is the enemy of the good. Sex doesn’t need love, or permanence, or even much talking, in order to be healthy and satisfying. But sex without care is toxic. Sex without care leads to violated boundaries, injured bodies and unequally distributed pleasure. At best, sex without care is awkward and unsatisfying. At worst, sex without care is humiliating, traumatizing and painful.
Stop Calling It “Casual Sex”:
beachdeath:
I see now as an adult that we use the phrases “casual sex” and “hooking up” as shields against vulnerability, trust and compassion. They create a false binary between casual sex and serious sex, turning emotional nuance into a shameful trap and not a normal side effect of two humans interacting. “Casual” lets us stop caring about each other and ourselves, positioning sex as about the individual and not the couple because when it’s over, we are alone again. It is supposed to be an impersonal act of taking pleasure rather than creating it together. It’s physical, unemotional. Serious sex within a relationship means that you care. Casual sex, then, is careless. And if you care, you lose.
I wish I’d known sooner that the careless is the enemy of the good. Sex doesn’t need love, or permanence, or even much talking, in order to be healthy and satisfying. But sex without care is toxic. Sex without care leads to violated boundaries, injured bodies and unequally distributed pleasure. At best, sex without care is awkward and unsatisfying. At worst, sex without care is humiliating, traumatizing and painful.
via https://ift.tt/2MQoT28
americanblackgirlinaustralia:
1995-taboo:
LMAO 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Kalin Elisabeth, is her name
americanblackgirlinaustralia:
1995-taboo:
LMAO 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Kalin Elisabeth, is her name
via https://ift.tt/2LndX8R
One of the best ways to get people to care is to write a lot. Of course this is horribly counterintuitive, because it feels as though one should only produce a lot if one has an audience. But it’s actually the opposite in the fic world (at least so I’ve found). People like to read lots of things by the same author, and so engage more if there’s more material.
Not only will it help your mental health, but by writing and posting, it’ll also help the feeling that no one cares, because it will encourage people to engage with your work, since they know they can get more of the same.
As an aside, yes, kids, don’t do that.
[It’s Sleepover Saturday]
One of the best ways to get people to care is to write a lot. Of course this is horribly counterintuitive, because it feels as though one should only produce a lot if one has an audience. But it’s actually the opposite in the fic world (at least so I’ve found). People like to read lots of things by the same author, and so engage more if there’s more material.
Not only will it help your mental health, but by writing and posting, it’ll also help the feeling that no one cares, because it will encourage people to engage with your work, since they know they can get more of the same.
As an aside, yes, kids, don’t do that.
[It’s Sleepover Saturday]
via https://ift.tt/2LsfBq1
mslunawinchester:
Oh boy, I’m so nervous posting this but here goes nothing, I guess.. :3
I’ve been so inspired by Loki as a character and Tom Hiddleston as an actor himself, I just had to paint him. (And also: I love his jotun form, hopefully we’ll see more of that in the Loki series.)
I’m by faaaar no professional, but I had a lot of fun drawing it, so maybe this mediocre drawing will make you smile. :)
mslunawinchester:
Oh boy, I’m so nervous posting this but here goes nothing, I guess.. :3
I’ve been so inspired by Loki as a character and Tom Hiddleston as an actor himself, I just had to paint him. (And also: I love his jotun form, hopefully we’ll see more of that in the Loki series.)
I’m by faaaar no professional, but I had a lot of fun drawing it, so maybe this mediocre drawing will make you smile. :)
via https://ift.tt/2MPhAYB
bomberqueen17:
heartachedreamboy:
punkrorschach:
heartachedreamboy:
heartachedreamboy:
thetaobella:
heartachedreamboy:
why do they always show cranberries in thos big pits n its implied its wet and possibly swimmable. do cranberries really grow like that. wh
You’ve never heard of The Bog?
th
the what
EACH ADDITION TO THIS POST MAKES MY BLOOD RUN COLD
This is a cranberry bog (unflooded) it’s how cranberries grow. Once they’re ripe, the blog is flooded and the cranberries harvested.
Basically by using big floaty things to round them all up and then scooping them out of the water.
thank u. i hate it a little less but the horrible little man in my head is still screaming “BOG BODY BOG BODY BOG BODY”, but i appreciate the education,
oh here is a fun lil perspective on cranberry harvesting i never heard about anywhere else. the guy who owns the restaurant right down the road from the farm, who fries our chickens sometimes, is from Boston, with the strongest Boston accent ever, and in a former life before he started slinging reasonably priced barbeque and occasional organic chicken, he was a cranberry farmer.
His farm was on the leading edge of kinda using organic/sustainable pest control methods, and one of the things that they did to keep insect damage down was that they encouraged wolf spiders to live in the cranberry field, to eat the bugs.
This was all fine and good until they flooded the bog. Now, you don’t just like flood the bog and then go around it in a boat or whatever. No, you use hip waders to get in there and put the big floaty things where they go and get all the berries and such.
Well when you’re in the bog in hip waders, that makes you the tallest thing. Wolf spiders can swim a bit, but they don’t like it, so they’re, quite understandably, looking to climb out of the water onto a tall thing.
So yeah the first interview question he always asked potential cranberry bog harvester hires was “are you cool with spiders?”
“You’d be amazed,” he said to us, shaking his head a little, “how many guys would just straight lie. Like, you think I’m asking you that question to be cute? Nah man you’re gonna have like a hundred wolf spiders trying to climb your eyebrows, you gotta be chill, those wolf spiders are fellow employees. You really gotta be chill with spiders if you’re gonna work a cranberry harvest.”
bomberqueen17:
heartachedreamboy:
punkrorschach:
heartachedreamboy:
heartachedreamboy:
thetaobella:
heartachedreamboy:
why do they always show cranberries in thos big pits n its implied its wet and possibly swimmable. do cranberries really grow like that. wh
You’ve never heard of The Bog?
th
the what
EACH ADDITION TO THIS POST MAKES MY BLOOD RUN COLD
This is a cranberry bog (unflooded) it’s how cranberries grow. Once they’re ripe, the blog is flooded and the cranberries harvested.
Basically by using big floaty things to round them all up and then scooping them out of the water.
thank u. i hate it a little less but the horrible little man in my head is still screaming “BOG BODY BOG BODY BOG BODY”, but i appreciate the education,
oh here is a fun lil perspective on cranberry harvesting i never heard about anywhere else. the guy who owns the restaurant right down the road from the farm, who fries our chickens sometimes, is from Boston, with the strongest Boston accent ever, and in a former life before he started slinging reasonably priced barbeque and occasional organic chicken, he was a cranberry farmer.
His farm was on the leading edge of kinda using organic/sustainable pest control methods, and one of the things that they did to keep insect damage down was that they encouraged wolf spiders to live in the cranberry field, to eat the bugs.
This was all fine and good until they flooded the bog. Now, you don’t just like flood the bog and then go around it in a boat or whatever. No, you use hip waders to get in there and put the big floaty things where they go and get all the berries and such.
Well when you’re in the bog in hip waders, that makes you the tallest thing. Wolf spiders can swim a bit, but they don’t like it, so they’re, quite understandably, looking to climb out of the water onto a tall thing.
So yeah the first interview question he always asked potential cranberry bog harvester hires was “are you cool with spiders?”
“You’d be amazed,” he said to us, shaking his head a little, “how many guys would just straight lie. Like, you think I’m asking you that question to be cute? Nah man you’re gonna have like a hundred wolf spiders trying to climb your eyebrows, you gotta be chill, those wolf spiders are fellow employees. You really gotta be chill with spiders if you’re gonna work a cranberry harvest.”
via https://ift.tt/2NNScCc
darthcannizard:
Could someone please make a fic out of this? I’m too lazy *facepalm*
gamebird:
YES!
sunangelflowers:
One more headcanon
So I have this mental image of Ren going to Hux’s office after their working cycle and finding the General working without his gloves, with the collar of his uniform tunic undone and wearing glasses.
Hux at first pays no attention, as he thinks it’s Mitaka leaving documents. When he sees it’s the Supreme Leader, he stands up and goes for his collar to close it and start taking off his glasses, but Kylo says it’s not necessary.
They talk professionaly, politely discussing FO matters. Kylo *listens* to Hux as his second in command. Hux does not try to defy every suggestion Kylo gives, choosing instead to listening to them and educating the new Supreme Leader in matters he never had to deal with before. Kylo notices they are a good team when working together.
He also notices the slightly trembling hands, the bruises on Hux’s neck, the pinpoints of stims on those pale wrists. He feels through the Force as much as he finally sees - and empathises with - the extreme exhaustion Hux is feeling.
The treatment for bruises and cuts postponed to when all resources are not being used to save and treat those injured in the Supremacy and the battle of Crait. All the pain will have to wait, the First Order needs first and above its General’s.
They call it a day and leave together, walking in silent companionship to the Officer’s quarters. Side by side. Tomorrow will be a new day.
It started out as what was asked for, but it morphed into something else half way through, sorry!
After the salt-white glare of Crait, the merciless light, the bleeding footprints, the terror and loss and silence. The silence in his head. The final desperation to have them both gone. To be free, even if it meant death, death for the First Order. Death for the whole galaxy….
Kylo shook his head, bumping his shoulder on the corridor wall as his knees unstrung themselves beneath him. Force! He was tired. He was so tired.
After all that light and rage and loss, it was comforting to be back in the polished dark of the Finalizer. Here, when his vision swam, when he kept reaching out and reaching out to the places in his head that were monstrously empty, when he kept catching himself, with a vertiginous jolt, on the lip of falling into that endless emptiness where his master’s guidance had once been…
Here it just felt like he was struggling not to fall asleep. The dark was like the dark behind his eyelids.
One more task and that struggle too would be over. He could sleep, and awake into a future without masters. No one to disappoint. No lightning to rain down on his head ever again. No raised saber in the night, and everything it meant.
Anguish struggled to raise itself out of the tar-pit of his heart, as he pushed away the thoughts of his family he had accidentally triggered. His mother’s arms. His father’s crooked smile. Luke’s pride, his hope. He had loved them. They had tried to kill him. Could there be a greater pain than this?
Yet he was so tired even this ultimate wound could raise no snarl. He rubbed his stinging eyes with his knuckles, and stepped within the sensor range of the door to Hux’s office. Just this one last thing and he could rest.
The door opened before him. He took two steps, and it closed behind him, shutting out the streamlined minds of the bridge crew. They had not been watching him, but their avoidance had been loud.
In here it was quiet. The lights were low. There was only the arching scatter of radiance from a holographic star map reflected from the dark mirror of the walls like a flotilla of comets. And a light by Hux’s datapad, filtering through a glass of liquor by his left hand. A warm, amber spot like a sun captured on his command.
And that was appropriate enough.
The thought surprised Kylo. He waited for the seethe of resentment and jealousy, of contempt and hatred he kept for Hux to sear its way up into his mouth like the taste of salt and blood. But it didn’t come.
Truly this didn’t look like Hux. Collar open, jacket askew and spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose, this young man could have been a research student at Coruscant university, poring over blueprints late into the night.
The bared throat was purpled with bruises, swollen a little – his collar must have chafed it.
How else would you keep a rabid cur, Kylo thought, involuntarily, if not on a choke chain?
But that… that was Snoke’s voice as he hadn’t heard it for hours. Coming out of the deep places in him almost as if the man was still there.
Kylo shook himself, snorting the thought out like a foul breath. Just an echo. That’s all it was. An echo.
At the sound, Hux startled, head coming up. Eyes bright as a welding torch fixed on Kylo’s as the general scrambled to his feet, his hand coming up to close the ends of his collar, either in modesty or a vain attempt to protect his neck.
“Supreme Leader, my apologies. I didn’t hear the door.”
Bruises like spilled wine across his cheek and chin, his bottom lip swollen and scarlet. Bruises in the way he held himself, very tight as if not to tremble, and yet there was a faint never-ending shake just to the tips of that disordered red hair. Here in the dim and gold light it looked soft as fox-fur.
The look in Hux’s eyes now was wary, calculating. A little wild, like that of the injured red vulpix young Ben had once found on the side of the road and tried to bring home. It had bitten Ben’s hand when he tried to soothe it, and the shock of the teeth snapping together in his flesh had been something of an inside joke between him and Snoke whenever Hux spoke.
“Don’t…” Kylo said, raising a hand to ward off… something. Hux’s insincere obsequiousness, perhaps, or his attempt to button his collar.
It was late at night. The man had bags under his eyes the same colour as his injuries. The sense of his mind, normally a quicksilver, cruel thing with a dry wit and an ocean of darkness beneath it even more bitter than Kylo’s, was slurred and sleepy. Almost at peace.
“At ease, I mean,” he began again, feeling emotions, memories, sloughing away from him in a long slow withdrawing like that of a tide. It would gather the wrack down deep in the wells of the Force and the places of his unconscious being and would return with insight.
“Both parts of the Supremacy are now airtight. The injured have been onboarded throughout the rest of the fleet. Is there anything else?”
“High Command will have to be notified of the change of Leader,” Hux observed. “It may be to your advantage to make a speech.”
“You can do that,” Kylo said, imagining it. If he couldn’t have a panning shot sweeping up to himself and his Empress side by side, crowned in Force radiance, perhaps it would be just as good to have Hux, the beautiful and terrifying executioner of Hosnian Prime, Hux, eater of suns, place some kind of diadem on his head.
“Make me your mouthpiece and I will be harder to get rid of,” Hux observed, snapping his fingers and quenching all the holographic stars in the room. He picked his datapad up and held it to his chest like a shield. His exhaustion filled the room like a web of black silk.
“Perhaps I’m not intending to get rid of you.”
“Ha,” Hux laughed, “Finally agreeing with Snoke, are we, that I’m useful after all?”
His voice didn’t have its usual poison, but Kylo thought of that injured vulpix again. Snoke had reminded him often of the hot skewer of betrayal as it bit him, had brought back repeatedly the shame of what happened next.
Hopes and dreams crushed, rejected beyond bearing, Ben had lifted a nearby curbstone with his mind, smashed it into the vulpix repeatedly, screaming. His mother had dragged him away, shaking with anger herself, despair beneath the fury. She’d loved him, but she’d hated him sometimes too.
“Leave him alone, Ben! He didn’t mean it! You can’t blame him for being scared.”
She had taken the animal to the shelter, while Ben curled up in his room and wept. He had only wanted to take care of the creature. He had seen with deep yearning how comforting it would be to cuddle the breathing body to him, to take it home and fall asleep with his face in the soft fur, the thin, leaf-like edge of an ear pressed against his lips. Now it was all ruined.
Leia had been gentle again when she returned, deliberately so, stinking of regret and worry and self-reproach beneath it. “Sometimes if an animal has been hurt, they can lash out,” she’d said. The words returned to him now as the light to Snoke’s dark, naively kind. “It doesn’t mean they’re bad. It just means they need extra love, extra patience to gain their trust.” And you aren’t the kind of person who can give that to them.
Kylo bit the inside of his cheek, shaking off the memory. He had no masters now. Not Snoke, not Luke, not Leia and all the things she thought but didn’t dare say to him. He would learn from his mistakes, and theirs. He would make his own course.
“Useful. Yes,” he agreed. It was the barest of compliments, but Hux preened at it in the secret darkness of his heart as he always had before Snoke, as though it was all he had ever aspired to be.
Hux straightened his shoulders and smiled his scalpel smile. “Well that’s something at least.”
darthcannizard:
Could someone please make a fic out of this? I’m too lazy *facepalm*
gamebird:
YES!
sunangelflowers:
One more headcanon
So I have this mental image of Ren going to Hux’s office after their working cycle and finding the General working without his gloves, with the collar of his uniform tunic undone and wearing glasses.
Hux at first pays no attention, as he thinks it’s Mitaka leaving documents. When he sees it’s the Supreme Leader, he stands up and goes for his collar to close it and start taking off his glasses, but Kylo says it’s not necessary.
They talk professionaly, politely discussing FO matters. Kylo *listens* to Hux as his second in command. Hux does not try to defy every suggestion Kylo gives, choosing instead to listening to them and educating the new Supreme Leader in matters he never had to deal with before. Kylo notices they are a good team when working together.
He also notices the slightly trembling hands, the bruises on Hux’s neck, the pinpoints of stims on those pale wrists. He feels through the Force as much as he finally sees - and empathises with - the extreme exhaustion Hux is feeling.
The treatment for bruises and cuts postponed to when all resources are not being used to save and treat those injured in the Supremacy and the battle of Crait. All the pain will have to wait, the First Order needs first and above its General’s.
They call it a day and leave together, walking in silent companionship to the Officer’s quarters. Side by side. Tomorrow will be a new day.
It started out as what was asked for, but it morphed into something else half way through, sorry!
After the salt-white glare of Crait, the merciless light, the bleeding footprints, the terror and loss and silence. The silence in his head. The final desperation to have them both gone. To be free, even if it meant death, death for the First Order. Death for the whole galaxy….
Kylo shook his head, bumping his shoulder on the corridor wall as his knees unstrung themselves beneath him. Force! He was tired. He was so tired.
After all that light and rage and loss, it was comforting to be back in the polished dark of the Finalizer. Here, when his vision swam, when he kept reaching out and reaching out to the places in his head that were monstrously empty, when he kept catching himself, with a vertiginous jolt, on the lip of falling into that endless emptiness where his master’s guidance had once been…
Here it just felt like he was struggling not to fall asleep. The dark was like the dark behind his eyelids.
One more task and that struggle too would be over. He could sleep, and awake into a future without masters. No one to disappoint. No lightning to rain down on his head ever again. No raised saber in the night, and everything it meant.
Anguish struggled to raise itself out of the tar-pit of his heart, as he pushed away the thoughts of his family he had accidentally triggered. His mother’s arms. His father’s crooked smile. Luke’s pride, his hope. He had loved them. They had tried to kill him. Could there be a greater pain than this?
Yet he was so tired even this ultimate wound could raise no snarl. He rubbed his stinging eyes with his knuckles, and stepped within the sensor range of the door to Hux’s office. Just this one last thing and he could rest.
The door opened before him. He took two steps, and it closed behind him, shutting out the streamlined minds of the bridge crew. They had not been watching him, but their avoidance had been loud.
In here it was quiet. The lights were low. There was only the arching scatter of radiance from a holographic star map reflected from the dark mirror of the walls like a flotilla of comets. And a light by Hux’s datapad, filtering through a glass of liquor by his left hand. A warm, amber spot like a sun captured on his command.
And that was appropriate enough.
The thought surprised Kylo. He waited for the seethe of resentment and jealousy, of contempt and hatred he kept for Hux to sear its way up into his mouth like the taste of salt and blood. But it didn’t come.
Truly this didn’t look like Hux. Collar open, jacket askew and spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose, this young man could have been a research student at Coruscant university, poring over blueprints late into the night.
The bared throat was purpled with bruises, swollen a little – his collar must have chafed it.
How else would you keep a rabid cur, Kylo thought, involuntarily, if not on a choke chain?
But that… that was Snoke’s voice as he hadn’t heard it for hours. Coming out of the deep places in him almost as if the man was still there.
Kylo shook himself, snorting the thought out like a foul breath. Just an echo. That’s all it was. An echo.
At the sound, Hux startled, head coming up. Eyes bright as a welding torch fixed on Kylo’s as the general scrambled to his feet, his hand coming up to close the ends of his collar, either in modesty or a vain attempt to protect his neck.
“Supreme Leader, my apologies. I didn’t hear the door.”
Bruises like spilled wine across his cheek and chin, his bottom lip swollen and scarlet. Bruises in the way he held himself, very tight as if not to tremble, and yet there was a faint never-ending shake just to the tips of that disordered red hair. Here in the dim and gold light it looked soft as fox-fur.
The look in Hux’s eyes now was wary, calculating. A little wild, like that of the injured red vulpix young Ben had once found on the side of the road and tried to bring home. It had bitten Ben’s hand when he tried to soothe it, and the shock of the teeth snapping together in his flesh had been something of an inside joke between him and Snoke whenever Hux spoke.
“Don’t…” Kylo said, raising a hand to ward off… something. Hux’s insincere obsequiousness, perhaps, or his attempt to button his collar.
It was late at night. The man had bags under his eyes the same colour as his injuries. The sense of his mind, normally a quicksilver, cruel thing with a dry wit and an ocean of darkness beneath it even more bitter than Kylo’s, was slurred and sleepy. Almost at peace.
“At ease, I mean,” he began again, feeling emotions, memories, sloughing away from him in a long slow withdrawing like that of a tide. It would gather the wrack down deep in the wells of the Force and the places of his unconscious being and would return with insight.
“Both parts of the Supremacy are now airtight. The injured have been onboarded throughout the rest of the fleet. Is there anything else?”
“High Command will have to be notified of the change of Leader,” Hux observed. “It may be to your advantage to make a speech.”
“You can do that,” Kylo said, imagining it. If he couldn’t have a panning shot sweeping up to himself and his Empress side by side, crowned in Force radiance, perhaps it would be just as good to have Hux, the beautiful and terrifying executioner of Hosnian Prime, Hux, eater of suns, place some kind of diadem on his head.
“Make me your mouthpiece and I will be harder to get rid of,” Hux observed, snapping his fingers and quenching all the holographic stars in the room. He picked his datapad up and held it to his chest like a shield. His exhaustion filled the room like a web of black silk.
“Perhaps I’m not intending to get rid of you.”
“Ha,” Hux laughed, “Finally agreeing with Snoke, are we, that I’m useful after all?”
His voice didn’t have its usual poison, but Kylo thought of that injured vulpix again. Snoke had reminded him often of the hot skewer of betrayal as it bit him, had brought back repeatedly the shame of what happened next.
Hopes and dreams crushed, rejected beyond bearing, Ben had lifted a nearby curbstone with his mind, smashed it into the vulpix repeatedly, screaming. His mother had dragged him away, shaking with anger herself, despair beneath the fury. She’d loved him, but she’d hated him sometimes too.
“Leave him alone, Ben! He didn’t mean it! You can’t blame him for being scared.”
She had taken the animal to the shelter, while Ben curled up in his room and wept. He had only wanted to take care of the creature. He had seen with deep yearning how comforting it would be to cuddle the breathing body to him, to take it home and fall asleep with his face in the soft fur, the thin, leaf-like edge of an ear pressed against his lips. Now it was all ruined.
Leia had been gentle again when she returned, deliberately so, stinking of regret and worry and self-reproach beneath it. “Sometimes if an animal has been hurt, they can lash out,” she’d said. The words returned to him now as the light to Snoke’s dark, naively kind. “It doesn’t mean they’re bad. It just means they need extra love, extra patience to gain their trust.” And you aren’t the kind of person who can give that to them.
Kylo bit the inside of his cheek, shaking off the memory. He had no masters now. Not Snoke, not Luke, not Leia and all the things she thought but didn’t dare say to him. He would learn from his mistakes, and theirs. He would make his own course.
“Useful. Yes,” he agreed. It was the barest of compliments, but Hux preened at it in the secret darkness of his heart as he always had before Snoke, as though it was all he had ever aspired to be.
Hux straightened his shoulders and smiled his scalpel smile. “Well that’s something at least.”
Additions to my Kylux Meta:
Sep. 3rd, 2019 07:16 pmvia https://ift.tt/2LooBfF
saturnmond:
It is a piece of literary analysis. So it has very little to do with what will or could potentially become canon. I merely applied queer theory to the texts of Star Wars, trying to outline how such a ship comes into being and how it actually follows quite the well-established tradition of queer coding. I just wanted to point out that Kylux has some interesting roots, can be academically traced and is not coming out of nowhere.
I actually disagree with Edelman’s Death Drive. It is no coincidence that I called it a “Polemic”. He himself put that word into the title. Only a few months ago, I wrote a paper argueing against his use of futurity for it ignores many perspectives. Edelman tends to reduce the world into a white/cis/heteronormative and white/gay/cis/male dichotomy. I put his theory into my Kylux meta because it’s especially relevant to the framing of the queer monster and the subversive nature of queerness.
The male/female dyad is a tool for literary criticism and academic analysis. It does of course not reflect upon my very own feelings about gender. However, it cannot be denied that acts/clothes/behaviours have a gendered connotation in our society, no matter how unjust this connotation may be. So even if I am not argueing for this to be the result of authorial intent, these signifyers exist and hold subconscious meaning for the reader/viewer.
saturnmond:
It is a piece of literary analysis. So it has very little to do with what will or could potentially become canon. I merely applied queer theory to the texts of Star Wars, trying to outline how such a ship comes into being and how it actually follows quite the well-established tradition of queer coding. I just wanted to point out that Kylux has some interesting roots, can be academically traced and is not coming out of nowhere.
I actually disagree with Edelman’s Death Drive. It is no coincidence that I called it a “Polemic”. He himself put that word into the title. Only a few months ago, I wrote a paper argueing against his use of futurity for it ignores many perspectives. Edelman tends to reduce the world into a white/cis/heteronormative and white/gay/cis/male dichotomy. I put his theory into my Kylux meta because it’s especially relevant to the framing of the queer monster and the subversive nature of queerness.
The male/female dyad is a tool for literary criticism and academic analysis. It does of course not reflect upon my very own feelings about gender. However, it cannot be denied that acts/clothes/behaviours have a gendered connotation in our society, no matter how unjust this connotation may be. So even if I am not argueing for this to be the result of authorial intent, these signifyers exist and hold subconscious meaning for the reader/viewer.
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akylodarkly83:
You realize the General Audience doesn’t care about any of that right? Training montages and tech worship is reserved for extra materials for a reason. The audience never saw Luke use a lightsaber to fight anyone until he fought Darth Vader, it was just assumed he’d been training between movies and during his time on Dagobah.
In TFA, we literally see Rey fight off a pair of goons with a staff by herself then see her train some more in TLJ by herself until she starts experimenting with the lightsaber more. We literally see her training again in the D23 tros trailer when she throws the saber through the tree at the training remote, so the GA is going to assume she’s been practicing between movies and because it’s the last movie, OFC she’s more proficient than she was before.
Training has literally nothing to do with the heart of the story and isn’t necessary to the plot unless it directly foreshadows a future plot point. We still don’t know the context of Dark Rey in this shot but if she ends up using a saberstaff for real, the GA already knows that she:
A) can use a staff
B) is strong with the Force
C) has been actively training as shown in the movies, therefore she knows how to wield a weapon.
If anyone cares about what ‘Form’ she’s using or what school of saber technique it is, they can learn that from the comics or extra materials, The GA doesn’t care.
IMO so much of this bullshit discourse about characters ‘earning’ their abilities comes from the MCU’s focus on formulaic plot-driven movies. The ‘tech’ and ‘training’ are generally part of the fun of comic book movies but are ultimately nothing but fan service unless they explore specific gadgets that the Hero uses later on in a fight.
Nobody in OT Star Wars ‘earned’ their abilities, we never saw Han Solo learn how to fly, or Leia learn how to shoot, but since Luke was the primary focus, we followed his journey with him and learned about the Force and the Jedi as he learned about it, but the ‘how’ was never part of the heart of SW. The entire saga has been about the choices characters make with the abilities they learn along the way and because each trilogy is an overarching story, the final movie always changes the GA’s perception of the previous two.
I personally don’t give a flying shit about how Rey learns to wield a saberstaff, if she even does so in the movie, because if the story is about her choices and her struggles vs Ben Solo’s , the background details are just that.
SW has never been about the ‘tech and training’ except in the ancillary materials. It’s about the struggle between the light side and dark side tendencies in a fairy tale setting. The story is the characters, not what fabric their tunics are made out of.
magnumpicactus:
aye
inventive-inc:
When you use staff, there is no chance of you accidentally cutting parts off of yourself. Lightsaber is different
magnumpicactus:
there’s actually. like. A huge difference between the two too alkansjskk
inventive-inc:
A staff and a lightsaber arent the same thing.
akylodarkly83:
I just cant guys. I can’t. The girl has been using a staff most of her life but apparently that’s not enough for some people. 😒😒😒
akylodarkly83:
You realize the General Audience doesn’t care about any of that right? Training montages and tech worship is reserved for extra materials for a reason. The audience never saw Luke use a lightsaber to fight anyone until he fought Darth Vader, it was just assumed he’d been training between movies and during his time on Dagobah.
In TFA, we literally see Rey fight off a pair of goons with a staff by herself then see her train some more in TLJ by herself until she starts experimenting with the lightsaber more. We literally see her training again in the D23 tros trailer when she throws the saber through the tree at the training remote, so the GA is going to assume she’s been practicing between movies and because it’s the last movie, OFC she’s more proficient than she was before.
Training has literally nothing to do with the heart of the story and isn’t necessary to the plot unless it directly foreshadows a future plot point. We still don’t know the context of Dark Rey in this shot but if she ends up using a saberstaff for real, the GA already knows that she:
A) can use a staff
B) is strong with the Force
C) has been actively training as shown in the movies, therefore she knows how to wield a weapon.
If anyone cares about what ‘Form’ she’s using or what school of saber technique it is, they can learn that from the comics or extra materials, The GA doesn’t care.
IMO so much of this bullshit discourse about characters ‘earning’ their abilities comes from the MCU’s focus on formulaic plot-driven movies. The ‘tech’ and ‘training’ are generally part of the fun of comic book movies but are ultimately nothing but fan service unless they explore specific gadgets that the Hero uses later on in a fight.
Nobody in OT Star Wars ‘earned’ their abilities, we never saw Han Solo learn how to fly, or Leia learn how to shoot, but since Luke was the primary focus, we followed his journey with him and learned about the Force and the Jedi as he learned about it, but the ‘how’ was never part of the heart of SW. The entire saga has been about the choices characters make with the abilities they learn along the way and because each trilogy is an overarching story, the final movie always changes the GA’s perception of the previous two.
I personally don’t give a flying shit about how Rey learns to wield a saberstaff, if she even does so in the movie, because if the story is about her choices and her struggles vs Ben Solo’s , the background details are just that.
SW has never been about the ‘tech and training’ except in the ancillary materials. It’s about the struggle between the light side and dark side tendencies in a fairy tale setting. The story is the characters, not what fabric their tunics are made out of.
magnumpicactus:
aye
inventive-inc:
When you use staff, there is no chance of you accidentally cutting parts off of yourself. Lightsaber is different
magnumpicactus:
there’s actually. like. A huge difference between the two too alkansjskk
inventive-inc:
A staff and a lightsaber arent the same thing.
akylodarkly83:
I just cant guys. I can’t. The girl has been using a staff most of her life but apparently that’s not enough for some people. 😒😒😒
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jujubiest:
bau-liya:
so women are supposed to grin and bear the books, the comics, the movies, the plays, the tv shows, the stories, the sci-fi, the translated ancient poems, the fucking millennia of men writing about their self inserts torturing women and it being declared as High Art by other men, we’re supposed to read it in our free time, study it in classrooms, include their styles in our own writing, accept their cultural influence as natural, watch it in the cinema, write about it, talk about it, accept it, aspire it, but men can’t tolerate three seconds of female wish fulfilment of a woman snapping the wrist of a creep without feeling personally kicked in the balls.
This reminds me of something I observed in college while I was doing my honors thesis on women in modern horror films. I watched a LOT of horror during that time as part of my research, and sometimes that was done with my family around.
And my dad and brothers? Were deeply disturbed by the movie Jennifer’s Body. I was flabbergasted. It’s not scary! It’s not even that gory. But they were horrified by it. These men who grew up on 70s slashers were legitimately shook by 90 minutes of Megan Fox eating a few teenage boys, mostly off-screen.
Similarly, my all-male reading panel for my thesis? Were so disturbed by my synopsis of the film Teeth that they couldn’t even talk about it. One of them said he couldn’t look at his wife for a week after reading it.
Again, grown-ass men who study and teach media for a living. Who definitely watch and enjoy horror movies. One of whom was a huge Tarantino buff. We watched and read worse in his intro to mass media class! But one movie about a girl whose vag could bite was enough to haunt him.
Then of course you have things like the Gone Girl backlash–men yelling that Amy Dunne is evil and women clamoring to assure everyone that they know she is not someone to emulate–the backlash against Carol Danvers, and, more recently, the griping from MRAs against the upcoming film Hustlers, which is about strippers scamming their Wall Street clients.
My conclusion? Most men–at least most straight, cisgender men, who are both my sample population and most of the ones whining that Carol is a “villain”–are perfectly fine with, and desensitized to, media where men do violence to women (horror movies), or men do violence to men (horror and action movies). They’re even sort of fine when women do violence to women (“ooooo cat fight!”).
But they get intensely uncomfortable when women are depicted doing any kind of violence to men, especially in films that tilt the balance of power to the other side of the m/f gender binary beyond a single moment or scene.
So woman as flesh-eating monster with men as her preferred cuisine? Woman who responds to unwanted sexual contact by biting it off? Woman who frames her cheating husband for murder? Woman whose response to harassment–behavior that many of the loudest whiners know is both creepy and reflective of their own thoughts/actions–is to break something?
Too scary. Unacceptable. Disturbing. These men hate being presented with the idea, even in fiction, that their position of power is socially constructed, that it could easily be flipped the other way. It terrifies them.
In feeling that terror, they experience a tiny modicum of what living, existing, moving, being perceived as a woman in the world is like.
And they flinch every time.
jujubiest:
bau-liya:
so women are supposed to grin and bear the books, the comics, the movies, the plays, the tv shows, the stories, the sci-fi, the translated ancient poems, the fucking millennia of men writing about their self inserts torturing women and it being declared as High Art by other men, we’re supposed to read it in our free time, study it in classrooms, include their styles in our own writing, accept their cultural influence as natural, watch it in the cinema, write about it, talk about it, accept it, aspire it, but men can’t tolerate three seconds of female wish fulfilment of a woman snapping the wrist of a creep without feeling personally kicked in the balls.
This reminds me of something I observed in college while I was doing my honors thesis on women in modern horror films. I watched a LOT of horror during that time as part of my research, and sometimes that was done with my family around.
And my dad and brothers? Were deeply disturbed by the movie Jennifer’s Body. I was flabbergasted. It’s not scary! It’s not even that gory. But they were horrified by it. These men who grew up on 70s slashers were legitimately shook by 90 minutes of Megan Fox eating a few teenage boys, mostly off-screen.
Similarly, my all-male reading panel for my thesis? Were so disturbed by my synopsis of the film Teeth that they couldn’t even talk about it. One of them said he couldn’t look at his wife for a week after reading it.
Again, grown-ass men who study and teach media for a living. Who definitely watch and enjoy horror movies. One of whom was a huge Tarantino buff. We watched and read worse in his intro to mass media class! But one movie about a girl whose vag could bite was enough to haunt him.
Then of course you have things like the Gone Girl backlash–men yelling that Amy Dunne is evil and women clamoring to assure everyone that they know she is not someone to emulate–the backlash against Carol Danvers, and, more recently, the griping from MRAs against the upcoming film Hustlers, which is about strippers scamming their Wall Street clients.
My conclusion? Most men–at least most straight, cisgender men, who are both my sample population and most of the ones whining that Carol is a “villain”–are perfectly fine with, and desensitized to, media where men do violence to women (horror movies), or men do violence to men (horror and action movies). They’re even sort of fine when women do violence to women (“ooooo cat fight!”).
But they get intensely uncomfortable when women are depicted doing any kind of violence to men, especially in films that tilt the balance of power to the other side of the m/f gender binary beyond a single moment or scene.
So woman as flesh-eating monster with men as her preferred cuisine? Woman who responds to unwanted sexual contact by biting it off? Woman who frames her cheating husband for murder? Woman whose response to harassment–behavior that many of the loudest whiners know is both creepy and reflective of their own thoughts/actions–is to break something?
Too scary. Unacceptable. Disturbing. These men hate being presented with the idea, even in fiction, that their position of power is socially constructed, that it could easily be flipped the other way. It terrifies them.
In feeling that terror, they experience a tiny modicum of what living, existing, moving, being perceived as a woman in the world is like.
And they flinch every time.
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glumshoe:
infernalcleric:
glumshoe:
How difficult is it to sheer a poodle at home? I’m not talking a fancy show cut, or even a traditional poodle shape—I mean a flat, even short cut all over the body. Regular grooming would cost me about $75 every 4-6 weeks so I’m interested in the learning curve of a poodle buzz cut (with a good-quality dog grooming trimmer, of course). That doesn’t seem to be a cut many people opt for, but I think it looks cute and might be most practical for tick and burr season. Would it be something I could conceivably learn to do at home?
not to infodump but this is the one thing about poodles i’ve been hesitant on, but i’ve been told that they’re actually surprisingly low maintenance if you’re not going for any kind of a show cut, and if you don’t mind your dog looking just a little bit rough
I’m told that when you’re going for a utilitarian, short-all-over cut, often called (because nobody can ever fucking agree what any cut is called, just like human hair, and you have to show a picture if you’re requesting something) a Retriever Cut, Sporting Cut, or Kennel Clip or (usually with a 10 blade or a 7 blade) if you’re doing it on a fully grown poodle after about a month or two of growth, it will take about an hour, sometimes more, it will probably get faster as you and your hypothetical future dog get used to it!Most difficult parts being the toes, which you have to scoop the fluff out of, and the face, which dogs are understandably sensitive about, but if you bathe and brush the poodle first (and preferably give them a regular brushing once their hair is that long), it should be easier on your clippers!here’s a very goofy video about a middle aged man giving his very cute dog a very rough 10-blade-all over cut, it is probably my favorite video on youtube! the dog has clearly done this 100s of times and falls asleep while he’s cutting, even though she’s a little matted : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iu4aVKz7-So
also, if you want to see other dogs with this cut, here’s another of my favorite videos on youtube! https://youtu.be/AHdSG9ZicFs
his tail is so long and wiggly…like an irish wolfhound puppy, or, like, a wooly snake!
freshly peeled dog
glumshoe:
infernalcleric:
glumshoe:
How difficult is it to sheer a poodle at home? I’m not talking a fancy show cut, or even a traditional poodle shape—I mean a flat, even short cut all over the body. Regular grooming would cost me about $75 every 4-6 weeks so I’m interested in the learning curve of a poodle buzz cut (with a good-quality dog grooming trimmer, of course). That doesn’t seem to be a cut many people opt for, but I think it looks cute and might be most practical for tick and burr season. Would it be something I could conceivably learn to do at home?
not to infodump but this is the one thing about poodles i’ve been hesitant on, but i’ve been told that they’re actually surprisingly low maintenance if you’re not going for any kind of a show cut, and if you don’t mind your dog looking just a little bit rough
I’m told that when you’re going for a utilitarian, short-all-over cut, often called (because nobody can ever fucking agree what any cut is called, just like human hair, and you have to show a picture if you’re requesting something) a Retriever Cut, Sporting Cut, or Kennel Clip or (usually with a 10 blade or a 7 blade) if you’re doing it on a fully grown poodle after about a month or two of growth, it will take about an hour, sometimes more, it will probably get faster as you and your hypothetical future dog get used to it!Most difficult parts being the toes, which you have to scoop the fluff out of, and the face, which dogs are understandably sensitive about, but if you bathe and brush the poodle first (and preferably give them a regular brushing once their hair is that long), it should be easier on your clippers!here’s a very goofy video about a middle aged man giving his very cute dog a very rough 10-blade-all over cut, it is probably my favorite video on youtube! the dog has clearly done this 100s of times and falls asleep while he’s cutting, even though she’s a little matted : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iu4aVKz7-So
also, if you want to see other dogs with this cut, here’s another of my favorite videos on youtube! https://youtu.be/AHdSG9ZicFs
his tail is so long and wiggly…like an irish wolfhound puppy, or, like, a wooly snake!
freshly peeled dog
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ignisgayentia:
find someone who looks at u like general hux looks at kylo ren
ignisgayentia:
find someone who looks at u like general hux looks at kylo ren
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dateamonster:
dateamonster:
honestly imagine being mary shelley. its the fucking early 1800s. we’re barely out of the era when people thought women reading novels would lead to like debauchery and premarital sex. the weather is just fucking bonkers in yonkers. everybodys clothes looked like they oughta weigh two hundred pounds. everyones goth but goth isnt a thing yet so they dont even know it. your kids are dying. your husbands dead. your friends are all probably doing coke. your doctor is also both doing and maybe prescribing coke. no electricity. people are out there just staring into the void and having clandestine affairs in graveyards or some shit just because theres nothing else to do. and whats that? youve just written frankenstein. girl what the fuck even–
today is mary shelley’s birthday. honor her legacy by looking at the completely bonkers shit happening all around you and just saying well might as well fuck around and invent an entirely new literary genre
dateamonster:
dateamonster:
honestly imagine being mary shelley. its the fucking early 1800s. we’re barely out of the era when people thought women reading novels would lead to like debauchery and premarital sex. the weather is just fucking bonkers in yonkers. everybodys clothes looked like they oughta weigh two hundred pounds. everyones goth but goth isnt a thing yet so they dont even know it. your kids are dying. your husbands dead. your friends are all probably doing coke. your doctor is also both doing and maybe prescribing coke. no electricity. people are out there just staring into the void and having clandestine affairs in graveyards or some shit just because theres nothing else to do. and whats that? youve just written frankenstein. girl what the fuck even–
today is mary shelley’s birthday. honor her legacy by looking at the completely bonkers shit happening all around you and just saying well might as well fuck around and invent an entirely new literary genre