kaltehertz

[kaltehertz]

In those heavy days in June,

When love became an act of defiance.

(A landscape piece combining the colours of my pride flags.)

[kaltehertz]

Here’s a story about changelings: 

Mary was a beautiful baby, sweet and affectionate, but by the time she’s three she’s turned difficult and strange, with fey moods and a stubborn mouth that screams and bites but never says mama. But her mother’s well-used to hard work with little thanks, and when the village gossips wag their tongues she just shrugs, and pulls her difficult child away from their precious, perfect blossoms, before the bites draw blood. Mary’s mother doesn’t drown her in a bucket of saltwater, and she doesn’t take up the silver knife the wife of the village priest leaves out for her one Sunday brunch. 

She gives her daughter yarn, instead, and instead of a rowan stake through her inhuman heart she gives her a child’s first loom, oak and ash. She lets her vicious, uncooperative fairy daughter entertain herself with games of her own devising, in as much peace and comfort as either of them can manage.

Mary grows up strangely, as a strange child would, learning everything in all the wrong order, and biting a great deal more than she should. But she also learns to weave, and takes to it with a grand passion. Soon enough she knows more than her mother–which isn’t all that much–and is striking out into unknown territory, turning out odd new knots and weaves, patterns as complex as spiderwebs and spellrings. 

“Aren’t you clever,” her mother says, of her work, and leaves her to her wool and flax and whatnot. Mary’s not biting anymore, and she smiles more than she frowns, and that’s about as much, her mother figures, as anyone should hope for from their child. 

Mary still cries sometimes, when the other girls reject her for her strange graces, her odd slow way of talking, her restless reaching fluttering hands that have learned to spin but never to settle. The other girls call her freak, witchblood, hobgoblin.

“I don’t remember girls being quite so stupid when I was that age,” her mother says, brushing Mary’s hair smooth and steady like they’ve both learned to enjoy, smooth as a skein of silk. “Time was, you knew not to insult anyone you might need to flatter later. ‘Specially when you don’t know if they’re going to grow wings or horns or whatnot. Serve ‘em all right if you ever figure out curses.”

“I want to go back,” Mary says. “I want to go home, to where I came from, where there’s people like me. If I’m a fairy’s child I should be in fairyland, and no one would call me a freak.”

“Aye, well, I’d miss you though,” her mother says. “And I expect there’s stupid folk everywhere, even in fairyland. Cruel folk, too. You just have to make the best of things where you are, being my child instead.”

Mary learns to read well enough, in between the weaving, especially when her mother tracks down the traveling booktraders and comes home with slim, precious manuals on dyes and stains and mordants, on pigments and patterns, diagrams too arcane for her own eyes but which make her daughter’s eyes shine.

“We need an herb garden,” her daughter says, hands busy, flipping from page to page, pulling on her hair, twisting in her skirt, itching for a project. “Yarrow, and madder, and woad and weld…”

“Well, start digging,” her mother says. “Won’t do you a harm to get out of the house now’n then.”

Mary doesn’t like dirt but she’s learned determination well enough from her mother. She digs and digs, and plants what she’s given, and the first year doesn’t turn out so well but the second’s better, and by the third a cauldron’s always simmering something over the fire, and Mary’s taking in orders from girls five years older or more, turning out vivid bolts and spools and skeins of red and gold and blue, restless fingers dancing like they’ve summoned down the rainbow. Her mother figures she probably has.

“Just as well you never got the hang of curses,” she says, admiring her bright new skirts. “I like this sort of trick a lot better.”

Mary smiles, rocking back and forth on her heels, fingers already fluttering to find the next project.

She finally grows up tall and fair, if a bit stooped and squinty, and time and age seem to calm her unhappy mouth about as well as it does for human children. Word gets around she never lies or breaks a bargain, and if the first seems odd for a fairy’s child then the second one seems fit enough. The undyed stacks of taken orders grow taller, the dyed lots of filled orders grow brighter, the loom in the corner for Mary’s own creations grows stranger and more complex. Mary’s hands callus just like her mother’s, become as strong and tough and smooth as the oak and ash of her needles and frames, though they never fall still.

“Do you ever wonder what your real daughter would be like?” the priest’s wife asks, once.

Mary’s mother snorts. “She wouldn’t be worth a damn at weaving,” she says. “Lord knows I never was. No, I’ll keep what I’ve been given and thank the givers kindly. It was a fair enough trade for me. Good day, ma’am.”

Mary brings her mother sweet chamomile tea, that night, and a warm shawl in all the colors of a garden, and a hairbrush. In the morning, the priest’s son comes round, with payment for his mother’s pretty new dress and a shy smile just for Mary. He thinks her hair is nice, and her hands are even nicer, vibrant in their strength and skill and endless motion.  

They all live happily ever after.

*

Here’s another story: 

Keep reading

[kaltehertz]

the infuriating thing is that there is genuinely so much good queer literature out there, contemporary and not, but there is also a sizeable chunk of readers who think that a book only "counts" as good queer literature if it's a) unproblematic, b) contains romance as its central focus, and c) has the characters state their orientation and/or gender identity directly to the audience using socially acceptable 21st-century terms (as opposed to resorting to cowardly tactics such as Subtext and Themes)

[kaltehertz]

my worst trait is that softblocking does not work on me because i literally do not notice. and if i notice im not following someone i thought i was i literally just follow them again because i thought i forgot so PLEASE if i have done something to upset you or you don’t want me following you anymore pls pls just block me. its okayyyy

[kaltehertz]

This animation without the filter because it fucked with the framerate for some reason (this isn't the intended look otherwise, but bleh)

[kaltehertz]

Its yuri day Aye, you know what that means.

We all have to be lesbians for 24 hours???

[kaltehertz]

Today I saw a pic of a baby cowbird next 2 its nest "parent" and it was so much bigger!!!!! Which is the sort of thing that gets normal people upset about the injustice of nest parasitism but makes *me* worry if baby cowbirds get bird dysmorphia

[kaltehertz]

[kaltehertz]

game of DATE EVERYTHING is out and im honored to see the TINGLEVERSE mentioned. still have not heard from the developer but my offer stands: let me know if you want chuck tingle to voice an object. anyway buckaroos are having a great time playing so go check it out THIS PROVES LOVE

[kaltehertz]

Hm. Interesting. Apparently cortisol production depletes magnesium stores. And I have a lot of symptomatic overlap with magnesium deficiency. And it can apparently help migraine. And ADHD. I think I'm going to try supplementing magnesium glycinate. L-threonate sounds really interesting too as that's magnesium that can cross the blood-brain barrier and apparently is super useful for memory and shit.

[kaltehertz]

I’m really curious what are y’all’s fanfiction and fiction squicks?

I know the word has fallen from super-popular use but I think we need to revitalize it as a term (for a deep-seated distaste or turn-off from certain tropes, writing forms, character types, etc.) What makes you put down a book or close a tab so fast?

[kaltehertz]

whenever i see people say “i’m watching (insert show name here) for the first time. which episodes should i skip?” i get so annoyed. NONE OF THEM. YOU ARE WATCHING THE SHOW FOR THE FIRST TIME. WHY ARE YOU SKIPPING EPISODES

[kaltehertz]

I do feel like, as the cost of living crisis skyrockets, non-partnering aros are going to get hit harder and harder. There is no framework built into the infrastructure of our society for people who don't have a dual-income household, and it does become more difficult as you age to reliably live with friends.

There is, of course, the option to live with strangers, but that has it's own varied and dangerous downfalls. Hit just as hard, or perhaps even harder, are going to be those in abusive households who's chances of being able to afford to leave grow slimmer.

Like, this stuff IS grim, so we've gotta start making good financial decisions, and supporting each other where possible.

[kaltehertz]

Imagine if they find Luigi innocent and he has to go through the rest of his life as That Guy Who Got Turbodoxxed That One Time Because Everyone Thought He Was An Assassin.

[kaltehertz]

Would you believe this wisdom came from Facebook? Anyway send this to anyone using conservative rhetoric in leftist spaces.

[kaltehertz]

I love blocking people I've never interacted with based off their replies on some random popular post. Wow random user on a post with 50k notes with the worst take ever, I hope I never meet you and will make sure we never do

[kaltehertz]