made-of-rust-and-stardust
made-of-rust-and-stardust
Loving Life Most Of The Time
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She/Her | 24 | 🏳️‍🌈 | 🇨🇦🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🇬🇧 |
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 15 days ago
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So anyways with the rapid rise of fascism I feel it’s a good time to point out that it’s perfectly legal to follow unjust orders slowly, badly, or inefficiently
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 17 days ago
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Man I love working in theatre. Sure, the hours aren’t great. The pay is shit. But the people? Often pretty annoying
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 4 months ago
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genuinely so scary that you can't access the page on the ssc website that guides you through changing your sex designation. so so fucking scary. they are already making our lives harder. they are already taking what little resources we have.
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 4 months ago
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Hi new friends. Please don’t censor words, especially triggering ones. Seeing trigger words written l!ke th!s doesn’t stop them from being triggering.
It just stops Tumblr’s built in filter (see under settings) from working which many of us have in place to protect ourselves.
This has happened to me multiple times this week, and as someone currently struggling with suicidal ideation, has not been great.
You are not on TikTok or Insta, please use the full words so people can protect themselves. Thank you 💖
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 6 months ago
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My absolute hottest take is that, from a culturally relative perspective, no food is bad. None of it. It's an expression of culture, art, history, ecology, material conditions, subjective taste. It's all inedible pap to somebody and the taste of childhood for someone else. Americans be eating cheesed burger. Pea wet is as good as gravy in Wigan. The French eat snails and the Inuit eat seal, the Germans eat sauerkraut and the Russians drink kvass, the Inca ate cavy and the Romans ate flamingo. People around the world have been eagerly awaiting their serving of simple bread or thin porridge or fermented milk product or pickled whatever-the-fuck since we learned to cook food over fire. We all love the slop we grew up eating. Food is a reflection of millennia of culture and loving human artistic expression. Attempting to extrapolate largely harmless online food banter into actual serious comparative rankings or half-baked critical analyses of cultures based on how much you subjectively don't like what they eat is a miserable way to live. Live a little. Peace and love on the only planet with food.
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 6 months ago
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tumblr please stop telling me to wd40 a mouse
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 6 months ago
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at some point you have to realize that you actually have to read to understand the nuance of anything. we as a society are obsessed with summarization, likely as a result of the speed demanded by capital. from headlines to social media (twitter being especially egregious with the character limit), people take in fragments of knowledge and run with them, twisting their meaning into a kaleidoscope that dilutes the message into nothing. yes, brevity is good, but sometimes the message, even when communicated with utmost brevity, requires a 300 page book. sorry.
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 6 months ago
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@kenzie_flick
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 7 months ago
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How many times have you changed your mobile number since you got a mobile?
never
once
twice
three times
four times
more than five times
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 10 months ago
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Loving the explicit fatphobia and trans/homophobia being aimed at the in theory representation of the last supper. Really embodying the spirit of peace and inclusion that the Olympics champions 👀
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 10 months ago
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May your next period be light and end quickly
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made-of-rust-and-stardust · 11 months ago
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an incomplete list: things alex (and us readers) love about hrh prince henry of wales
something that I love dearly and find super cool about the list that alex makes for henry about what he loves about him is that we've actually experienced most of these things about henry with alex throughout the narrative of the book so it feels super organic and touching because yes we've come to love these things about henry too
so in honor of henry's birthday and because i was feeling sappy, here's all the moments throughout the book described in the list under the cut
1. The sound of your laugh when I piss you off.
Chapter 2, end of alex's london trip
“No booty calls,” Alex tells him, and Henry chokes on a laugh.
Chapter 4, great turkey calamity
“…you’re not a totally boring asshole.” “Wow,” Henry says with a laugh. “I’m honored.”
Chapter 10, morning after alex storms kensington
“Hi,” Alex says carefully, squinting over his coffee. “You seem … less pissy.” Henry huffs a laugh. “You’re one to talk. …’”
2. The way you smell underneath your fancy cologne, like clean linens but somehow also fresh grass (what kind of magic is this?).
Chapter 7, post-karaoke
Henry smells like expensive cologne and champagne and a distinctly Henry smell that never goes away, clean and grassy…
Chapter 9, lake house
…then Alex has him, inhaling the clean smell of him, laughing into the crook of his neck.
Chapter 15, election night
The second he steps backstage, there’s a hand on his back, the achingly familiar gravity of someone else’s body reentering his space before it even touches his, a clean, familiar scent light in the air between.
3. That thing you do where you stick out your chin to try to look tough.
Chapter 6, post-red room
“Hang on,” Henry says, and Alex is already groaning in protest, but Henry pulls back and rests his fingertips on Alex’s lips to shush him. “I want—” His voice starts and stops, and he’s looking like he’s resolving not to cringe at himself again. He gathers himself, stroking a finger up to Alex’s cheek before jutting his chin out defiantly. “I want you on the bed.”
Chapter 7, phone conversation
“It’s fine,” Henry says, steadiness rising in his voice as if he’s stuck out his chin in that stubborn way he does sometimes. Alex wishes he could see it.
Chapter 13, confrontation with mary
And [Henry] does the thing Alex loves so much: He sticks his chin out, steeling himself up. “I’m not a coward,” he says. “And I don’t want to fix it.”
4. How your hands look when you play piano.
Chapter 6, post-red room
Alex tries not to be in awe of the simple agility of his hands, tries not to think about classical piano or how swift and smooth years of polo have trained Henry to be.
Chapter 8, in Henry's apartments following wimbledon
His hands are fast, almost effortless, even as he goes off into a tangent about the War of the Romantics and how Liszt’s daughter left her husband for Wagner, quel scandale.
5. All the things I understand about myself now because of you.
Chapter 6
He’s starting to understand what swelled in his chest the first time he read about Stonewall, why he ached over the SCOTUS decision in 2015. … It’s weird that the thing with Henry could make him understand this huge part of himself, but it does. When he sinks into thoughts of Henry’s hands, square knuckles and elegant fingers, he wonders how he never realized it before. When he sees Henry next at a gala in Berlin, and he feels that gravitational pull, chases it down in the back of a limo, and binds Henry’s wrists to a hotel bedpost with his own necktie, he knows himself better.
6. How you think Return of the Jedi is the best Star Wars (wrong) because deep down you’re a gigantic, sappy, embarrassing romantic who just wants the happily ever after.
Chapter 2, in the medical supply closet
Then, unprompted, Henry says into the stretching stillness, “Return of the Jedi.” A beat. “What?” “To answer your question,” Henry says. “Yes, I do like Star Wars, and my favorite is Return of the Jedi.” “Oh,” Alex says. “Wow, you’re wrong.” “…isn’t there something to be valued in a happy ending as well?” “Spoken like a true Prince Charming.” “I’m only saying, I like the resolution of Jedi. It ties everything up nicely. And the overall theme you’re intended to take away from the films is hope and love and … er, you know, all that. Which is what Jedi leaves you with a sense of most of all.”
Henry's passion and ability to recite things he's interested in 7. Your ability to recite Keats. 8. Your ability to recite Bernadette’s “Don’t let it drag you down” monologue from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.
Chapter 7
It’s another thing Henry does—whipping out these analyses of what he reads or watches or listens to…
Chapter 10, in the v&a
“James was completely besotted [with George Villiers]. Everyone knew. This French poet, de Viau, wrote a poem about it.” [Henry] clears his throat and starts to recite: “‘One man fucks Monsieur le Grand, another fucks the Comte de Tonnerre, and it is well known that the King of England, fucks the Duke of Buckingham.’”
Henry, who has tried, does try, and keeps trying 9. How hard you try. 10. How hard you’ve always tried. 11. How determined you are to keep trying.
Chapter 6, red room
Alex has been learning for a while Henry isn’t what he thought, but it’s something else to feel it this close up, the quiet burn in him, the pent-up person under the perfect veneer who tries and pushes and wants.
Chapter 7, conversation with June and the J-14 magazine
“It pisses me off sometimes, thinking about everything he’s been through. He’s a good person. He really cares, and he tries. He never deserved any of it.”
Chapter 10, when alex storms kensington
Alex swallows hard. “You’re not even gonna try to be happy?” “For Christ’s sake,” Henry says, “I’ve been trying to be happy my entire idiot life. My birthright is a country, not happiness.”
Chapter 10, morning after alex storms kensington
“I’m saying,” Henry begins, and the knit of his brow is nervous but his mouth keeps speaking, “I’m terrified, and my whole life is completely mad, but trying to give you up this week nearly killed me. And when I woke up this morning and looked at you … there’s no trying to get by for me anymore. I don’t know if I’ll ever be allowed to tell the world, but I … I want to. One day. If there’s any legacy for me on this bloody earth, I want it to be true. So I can offer you all of me, in whatever way you’ll have me, and I can offer you the chance of a life. If you can wait, I want you to help me try.”
Chapter 13, in london following the email leak
Henry who has been through the worst thing and now the next worst thing and is still alive. [Alex] reaches out a hand and touches the ridge of Henry’s shoulder blade, the skin where the sheet has slid off him, where his lungs stubbornly refuse to stop pulling air.
Honorable mention: When Alex used to think Henry didn't try Chapter 1, the lead up to cakegate
“I’m just saying,” Alex says, resting an overly friendly elbow on Henry’s shoulder… “You could try to act like you’re having fun. Occasionally.”
12. That when your shoulders cover mine, nothing else in the entire stupid world matters.
Chapter 5, in Alex's room after the state dinner
Henry’s hands are huge on his back, his jaw sharp and rough with a long day’s stubble, his shoulders broad enough to eclipse Alex when he rolls them over and pins Alex to the mattress. None of it feels anything like anything he’s felt before, but it’s just as good, maybe better.
Chapter 7, post-karaoke
Henry rolls Alex onto his side and burrows behind him until he’s covering him completely, his shoulders a brace for Alex’s shoulders, one of his thighs pressed on top of Alex’s thighs, his arms over Alex’s arms and his hands over Alex’s hands, nowhere left untouched. It’s the best Alex has slept in years.
13. The goddamn issue of Le Monde you brought back to London with you and kept and have on your nightstand (yes, I saw it).
Chapter 7, paris
In the morning, room service brings up crusty baguettes and sticky tarts filled with fat apricots and a copy of Le Monde that Alex makes Henry translate out loud.
Chapter 10, morning after alex storms kensington
And beside him, there’s a copy of Le Monde on the nightstand… He recognizes the date: Paris. The first time they woke up next to each other.
14. The way you look when you first wake up.
Surprisingly, no direct descriptions of this but we can extrapolate from Chapter 15, presidential election victory celebration
And for a fraction of a second, a whole crystallized life flashes into view, a next term and no elections left to win, a schedule packed with classes and Henry smiling from the pillow next to him in the gray light of a Brooklyn morning.
15. Your shoulder-to-waist ratio.
Chapter 5, alex sexuality crisis musings while on a run with june
He thinks about Henry’s voice low in his ear over the phone at three in the morning, and suddenly he has a name for what ignites in the pit of his stomach. Henry’s hands on him, …Henry’s mouth, … Henry’s broad shoulders and long legs and narrow waist…
16. Your huge, generous, ridiculous, indestructible heart.
Chapter 9, last night at the lake house
What if [Alex] got so wrapped up in everything Henry is—the words he writes, the earnest heartsickness of him—he forgot to take into account that it’s just how he is, all the time, with everyone?
Chapter 11, hometown stuff email
You love so much bigger than yourself, bigger than everything. I can’t believe how lucky I am to even witness it—to be the one who gets to have it, and so much of it, is beyond luck and feels like fate.
Chapter 12, bad metaphors about maps email
…the truth of you. the weird, perfect shape of your heart. the one on the outside of your chest. give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there’s so much of you.
Chapter 12, in london following the email leak
Six feet of boy curled around kicked-in ribs and a recalcitrant heart.
17. Your equally huge dick.
Chapter 10, in the V&A
“Oh, yeah,” Alex says. “The top list of reasons to love you goes brain, then dick, then imminent status as a revolutionary gay icon.”
18. The face you just made when you read that last one.
Chapter 4, new years eve party
[Alex] was having fun watching everything he did play out on Henry’s face.
19. The way you look when you first wake up (I know I already said this, but I really, really love it).
See #14
20. The fact that you loved me all along.
Chapter 10, morning after alex storms kensington
“What about you?” “What about me?” Henry says. “Christ, Alex. The whole bloody time.” “The whole time?” “Since the Olympics.” “The Olympics?” Alex yanks Henry’s pillow out from under him. “But that’s, that’s like—” “Yes, Alex, the day we met, nothing gets past you, does it?” Henry says, reaching to steal the pillow back. “‘What about you,' he says, as if he doesn’t know—”
Chapter 11, re hometown stuff email
But the first time I saw you. Rio. I took that down to the gardens. I pressed it into the leaves of a silver maple and recited it to the Waterloo Vase. It didn’t fit in any rooms. You were talking with Nora and June, happy and animated and fully alive, a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access, and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You weren’t even a president’s son yet, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen, and I had better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire. And then I was a careless fool, and I fell in love with you anyway. When you rang me at truly shocking hours of the night, I loved you. When you kissed me in disgusting public toilets and pouted in hotel bars and made me happy in ways in which it had never even occurred to me that a mangled-up, locked-up person like me could be happy, I loved you.
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your man doesn’t have the mental strength to caramelize onions 
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Small penises aren't bad, balding isn't bad, being short isn't bad, being fat isn't bad. Physical traits are not signs of morality, and the sooner people stop mocking people for their bodies (yes, even when they're bad) the better.
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you people will just. say anything
Keep reading
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