#and I want people to understand Revelation

[buttacake80]

I also hate Sarah Huckabee Sanders, but for other reasons.

She made a dig against VP Harris for not having biological children.

My background is kinda similar to Kamala's in that we both are Gen X Black women with law degrees who spent many years of our professional lives as civil servants.

Black women, particularly Gen X & Millennials remain the most educated demographic. Many of us walk around with multiple degrees. I have 3 of my own.

A lot of us sacrificed romantic relationships and self care to pursue our education so that we can compete not only with white men but also Black men. It is due to the intersection of sex and gender. The odds are doubly stacked against us.

So when someone slams a door in our face, we turn around and get another degree, then we storm back and kick that fucking door down.

But we have made sacrifices.

I am 44 years old. I always wanted to be a mother but not only was I pursuing my education and professional advancement, but I was also on a path towards healing myself so I could be a good, nurturing mother.

But time is running out for me. I have entered perimenopause. I have PCOS, and I just had 5 uterine tumors (fibroids) removed in August so I could improve my chances of carrying a child. I was pursuing IVF, but if the Republicans got their way, they would eliminate that.

Maybe time ran out for Kamala. Maybe Kamala decided she would not carry her own children but that she could still mother someone. Maybe she has a chronic medical condition that made it impossible for her to carry a child to turn?

We don't know. Frankly, it's none of my business why she did not have a biological child. And no woman should be judged for the decision she makes about her body, and that includes if she chooses to become a mother or not.

📣We are more than wombs.📣

I do not understand why so many self-identified Christians revel in being cruel to their fellow human beings.

I want everyone to live with dignity and to have an opportunity to live in joy, surrounded by the things or people important to them.

I want people to be warm. I want people to be fed. I want people to be housed. I want people to feel seen and acknowledged irrespective of the crimes they may have committed.

I just don't understand why it's so difficult for them to be just plain decent.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Living in Secrecy

I couldn't stop thinking about this idea when I was in the middle of a uni class so ENJOY xoxo

"Hey, y'know Rose?" James starts speaking as soon as he's sat beside Sirius in the common room. He seems... antsy; Sirius watching his leg bounce, confused.

"Hufflepuff in our year, right?" He asks. He doesn't know her particularly well. Part of him thinks they were in the same charms class for a year, but he barely remembers fifth year charms. Too much was happening back then.

James nods emphatically, eyes brightening.

"Yeah! Her! I've heard she likes you. Wants you to ask her out."

"Oh, really?" Sirius asks. He tries to muster a sense of interest into his tone, but honestly? He couldn't care less. James, who unfortunately can read him like a book, picks up on this scarily quickly.

"I thought, maybe, it would be... good for you. Y'know, to go on a date." He's practically stumbling through it, but it's enough to make everything click.

Ah.

Right.

He's worried.

Sirius used to date around. He's not exactly proud of it, he spent a lot of time denying a very big part of himself, and he broke a lot of hearts in the process.

All of that ground to a halt when Remus kissed him on the astronomy tower.

He couldn't deny anything then. When Remus' lips met his, all he could think was that they'd wasted too much time not being together in this way. He's not quite there yet, but at least he knows that now. He knows he has a long way to go, but at least he has Remus. Even if he isn't ready to tell people yet, Remus understands.

That also meant no more girls.

He had gone from never being single in the eyes of the school to rejecting every advance thrown his way. He's been so wrapped up in the past few months with Remus, that he hadn't even thought about how confusing a switch that must have been for his friends.

"Prongs, I'm not really interested," Sirius says gently. He does want to tell James. It's pretty tempting, but he can't get the words past his mind and into his mouth. Not yet.

"How come?" James asks, confused. "I'm not saying you need to go back to the way you dated before!" He says quickly. "I'm glad you took a bit of a break, really I am. It's just... I don't know, I thought maybe you've had a bit of a confidence knock, or something. You've gone all quiet about your love life."

"Well, I mean, there's not much to tell," Sirius says with a shrug, panic creeping through him ever so slightly. James watches him carefully for a moment, before just nodding once.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, just... think about it? Could get you back on your feet." Sirius nods dutifully.

Thank fuck that conversation's over.

He skips Divination. It doesn't matter either way, he'll pass that exam with flying colours.

Instead, he opts for laying on his bed in the dorm, lazily levitating shit with his wand. He's mostly just trying to whittle away the time, waiting for Remus.

The door clicks open, and Sirius can't help but smile before he even catches a glimpse of him.

Remus is humming Bohemian Rhapsody.

Christ, it's so bloody endearing, Sirius is grinning by the time he's stopped, noticing Sirius' presence. As he sits up, his eyes finally meeting Remus', he watches a slightly embarrassed blush spread across Remus' cheeks. He adjusts until his legs are over the end of his bed, revelling in the way his heart speeds up at the sight of Remus.

"Aren't you meant to be in Divination?" He recovers quickly, arching an eyebrow as he drops his books onto his bed.

"Mm, told Prongs to say I'd foreseen my own death and was feeling a little shaken," he answers with a shrug and a wry smile. Remus shakes his head, but Sirius can see the affection in it. He quickly gets close enough for Sirius to grab both of his hands and pull him close, before wrapping his arms around Remus' waist. He's rewarded with a hand in his hair and Merlin, he's never felt this way before. He relaxes into Remus, letting his eyes slide shut.

"You okay?" Remus asks gently. Sirius nods into him, letting him go long enough for him to sit on the bed next to Sirius. He doesn't waste a second in leaning in and connecting their lips.

He doesn't think he'll ever get over this. This feeling, this want that builds in his core whenever the two of them kiss.

How did he ever think he was straight?

"Oh," he starts, pulling away begrudgingly as the story comes to the front of his mind, "Prongs tried to get me a date, today."

"Really?" Sirius watches amusement cross Remus' face. He nods, squeezing Remus' hand once.

"Some Hufflepuff girl. I think he thinks I've lost my mojo, or something." As he talks, he watches thoughtfulness begin to flash in Remus' eyes.

"I mean... have you considered maybe telling him?"

Sirius doesn't mean to tense up; it's involuntary. The moment he does, he knows he needs to talk himself out of this. He promised Remus that they'd tell people eventually, but... no, not yet.

"Why? He'll drop it on his own, when he realises I'm not interested," he says, forcing his shoulders to relax and waving his hand a little dismissively.

"I know you don't... I'm not saying you have to tell everyone," Remus says gently, "but, I mean, it would make everything a lot easier, right? Prongs wouldn't be trying to set you up all the time." He smiles, and Sirius really wishes he could reciprocate it. His smile is just so lovely.

"I don't know. I don't think now's the right time, y'know? Quidditch has been stressing him out, NEWTs are getting closer, Lily's finally started looking his way, it's just- why dump one more thing on him?"

They both know that's not why.

"Sirius, it's okay. You don't have to tell him tomorrow, or anything, but... have you thought about it? You know he won't look at you any differently, it's Prongs."

He doesn't. Nobody knows that for sure.

Sirius doesn't really want to say that. He doesn't know what he wants to say, really.

"It's not the right time," he settles on, hurried. Honestly, he just wants this conversation to be over.

"Okay," Remus says tiredly, pulling his hand out of Sirius' to scrub over his face. "Do think about it though? Please? We can't stay a secret forever."

"Yeah, I know," Sirius says. "He doesn't need to know now, though. It's fine, it doesn't matter," he says quickly, waving off the conversation and turning back to Remus. "We've got half an hour..." Remus' face stops him in his tracks. He almost looks stricken. "Moony, what's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter?" He repeats, face going slightly dark. "What, us?"

"That's not what I meant. I just... we're not there, are we? There's no point right now." He's panicking a little, everything starting to come out wrong as the anxiety comes back in volumes.

"Right, yeah. No point. Haven't made up your mind about us yet."

"That's not what I meant," he says helplessly. He doesn't know how to tell Remus what he means, because he isn't even sure. He can't tell Remus why he's so scared, he just is. It's a little embarrassing, really.

"Mm. I don't think I want to talk about this anymore." Remus gets up, Sirius' heart sinking to his stomach.

Fuck.

God, he's really cocked this up.

"I'm going to the library."

Before Sirius can figure out how to make it better, Remus is already out the door. He drops his head into his hands and lets out a groan.

He's such a bloody idiot.

"Padfoot." James stumbles up to Sirius. He's leaning against the wall beside the portrait hole, watching the party go on and just trying to drink himself into oblivion. In his defence, he's in a foul mood, after what happened with Remus. He just needs to sulk and forget about it for a bit.

They can talk about it tomorrow.

It doesn't help that Remus is noticeably absent from a party that he helped organise. Sirius knows it's his fault. He knows that he shouldn't have said any of what he said. Sure, maybe Remus overreacted, but he knows how Remus' brain works, he should have been more careful.

So, yeah, he's feeling a bit shit.

"Wotcher, Prongs." He reaches a hand out to steady James a little as he settles beside Sirius.

"S'goin on? You're being all..."

"M'fine," he answers with a shrug, draining the rest of his drink. He can't exactly tell James why he's being such a moody git, can he? Instead, he opts for straightening up and staring at his empty goblet. "Need a refill."

With that, he heads over to the drinks table. He's starting to feel comfortably fuzzy, zoning out as he pours just a little too much firewhiskey into his goblet. Just for tonight. Tonight he can let himself go a little, and he can fix things with Remus once he's cooled off a little.

Things start to blur from there.

He's not drunk, per se, but he's getting there. He's tipsy enough that he doesn't question James talking to a girl who looks weirdly familiar.

He doesn't even question it when she walks over to him.

"Hi, Sirius!" She starts cheerily.

"Hey. Rose, right?"

-

Remus is sulking.

It's an embarrassing thing to admit, but he is. He's sitting on his bed, pretending to read as he listens to the party downstairs.

He also knows that he's not really in the right.

He told Sirius he'd give him time, and he knows that. The thing is, he's had two months of Sirius gently shutting the conversation down when it comes to telling people about them. Surely two months is enough time. Also, he did say there was 'no point' in telling James about them. Sirius' best friend, his brother, and there's no point?

Remus has a right to be upset about that.

The more he thinks about it, dwells on it, the more he realises that he needs to give Sirius some more credit. Yeah, he's not ready to tell James yet but, Merlin, Sirius is the best person Remus knows. He's scared. Of course he's bloody scared, with the upbringing he's had.

When they're alone, he takes every available opportunity to make Remus feel like the most important person in the world. He knows Sirius by now, he should know that Sirius needs real time to think on this. They need to have a real conversation about it.

That can wait, though. They shouldn't be ending the day like this.

Shit.

He needs to go and apologise.

Sirius needs to know that it's okay. That Remus really bloody likes him. It's okay if Sirius needs time, he just needs to tell him that. They just need to communicate.

Problem solved.

With that, he shuts his book, leaving it forgotten as he pulls the door to the dorm open. He feels lighter, somehow. Hopeful. They can work through this. That's what couples do, right?

He bounds down the stairs as quickly as his hip will let him, out into the thick of the party. His eyes scan the room, searching for Sirius.

It doesn't take long to spot him, talking to another seventh year. Remus recognises her, he's pretty sure she was in their charms class, a few years back. He's sure he can interrupt them, that's fine-

Until she leans in and kisses him.

Oh, fuck.

Just like that, Remus' heart stops.

For a moment, he just stares. He can't fucking look away. It's no more than a second or two, but it may as well have been hours.

God, he feels sick.

Finally, his brain decides to set him free. He manages to turn away as his soul fucking shatters. He loses all control of his breathing, going shallow as he's thrown into the depths of a panic attack he can't save himself from.

He's an idiot.

He's an idiot for thinking he would ever be enough, he's an idiot for letting himself get this far.

He's an idiot for falling in love with the prat.

The tears start before he has a chance to calm down, pulling the curtains shut around his bed. He cries until his throat is raw, until his head aches, until he exhausts himself. He only has one thought as he falls into a fitful sleep.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Remus wakes up as early as he can, the next day.

The others are probably sleeping off hangovers, anyway. It gives him the chance to slip into the bathroom, unnoticed.

As he turns the shower on, he tries to figure out how the hell he feels. It's like he's having an out of body experience. His body isn't letting him feel any of the night before.

He doesn't know how long he stays there, letting the water hit him, staring into space and trying to figure out how the fuck he's going to tell Sirius.

They were going to go to Hogsmeade, today. Slip away from James and Peter so that they could spend some time together. Instead, Remus has to relive what happened last night. It's not exactly a conversation he's excited to have.

Still, he can't avoid it any longer when someone starts knocking the door.

"Oi, Moony!" James' voice rings out. "I love you, mate, but you've been in there for years!"

"Sorry," he says back, trying to force some semblance of brightness into his tone.

It doesn't take him long to switch the shower off, wrapping a towel around his waist and emerging from the bathroom. James smiles at him, but it quickly gives way to concern. Remus must not be doing a very good job at being fine.

"You okay?"

He just nods once, a horrible lump forming in his throat that he knows will have him breaking down if he's not careful. Thankfully, James is slightly too hungover to ask, so he just squeezes Remus' shoulder once and disappears into the bathroom. The moment the door shuts, Remus realises.

Sirius is awake.

Awake, hungover, and watching him with concern.

"Hey," he starts at a whisper. Remus glances over to Pete's bed. The curtains are drawn tight.

There's no getting out of this.

"Can we talk today?" He asks softly.

For a moment, Remus just watches him. He hates the pang of worry that hits him when he notices the furrow in Sirius' brow, the way his teeth worry at his lower lip.

Well, until the night before comes screaming back to him.

He shakes his head, walking over to his bed.

"No, I don't think we can."

"Moony, what-? Are you alright?" He asks, and Merlin, he really thinks Remus doesn't know? He pulls his chest open, rooting through it for something to wear.

"I think you can answer that," he says blankly. When he doesn't get an answer, he turns to face Sirius. He just looks confused. "That Hufflepuff, from last night. She's the one James was trying to set you up with, right?" He watches as the realisation flits across Sirius' face. His eyes widen, Remus letting Sirius clear his throat a little in his shock, sitting up straight.

"Shit. Moony, you know that wasn't what-"

"What, wasn't what it looked like?" He asks. "I really don't want to hear it, Sirius. You said you weren't sure, then got with a girl. Message received." He shuts his chest a little too hard, wincing as the sound reverberates through his skull.

"Wait, Rem, please. Prongs was just-"

The curtains around Peter's bed slide open, and Sirius' mouth snaps shut. Remus turns and offers Pete a half-hearted smile, before climbing onto his bed and moving to close the curtains.

"Remus," Sirius whispers, eyes pleading.

For a moment, Remus wants to relent. He wants to pull Sirius into a hug and make everything okay. Forget that this happened and draw a line under it.

No.

Not this time.

"Leave me alone, Sirius."

With that, he shuts the curtains and bites back tears.

He almost misses breakfast, in the end. He sits and waits until he hears everyone else leave the dorm, not willing to face any of the marauders, really.

When he does eventually get to breakfast, he sits with the girls instead. Lily shoots him a concerned glance, a question in her eyes. He just shakes his head. No talking. Not right now.

He spares a glance in the direction of his usual spot. James and Peter are sat opposite one another, whispering with confused frowns. Sirius is nowhere to be seen, James throwing Remus a glance every few seconds. When he spots Remus watching him, face blank, he falters.

"You okay?" He mouths across the table.

No. He's really bloody not. He's actually a little worried that if he opens his mouth he'll burst into tears. Instead, he opts for a shrug, turning back to his food.

He feels a little like he's underwater, like nothing's real.

Breakfast is excruciatingly long, even though he's the first one finished. He needs to go. Get away from everybody. From everything.

Usually, he doesn't want to go to class around the full moon. His skin is too busy crawling, his head buzzing to the point that he can't focus. Right now, he'd fucking kill to go to class and distract himself. He stands quickly, desperate to leave. The moment he does, his heart rate spikes and he practically blacks out, stumbling a little over the bench.

Shit.

Yeah, he needs to sit down.

Lily's up in a flash, guiding Remus back onto the bench by the shoulders. She swings her legs over and stands in front of him.

"Slow down, take a breath," she says gently.

He watches James' walk over, before letting his eyes slide shut and forcing himself to breathe slowly. He just needs to hurry up and calm down. They're not going to let him leave if he doesn't.

“Come on, let’s go.” She offers him her hand, slowly helping him up.

“Go?” He asks with a frown. To be perfectly honest, he wants to go and lock himself in his bed, wallow for a little where nobody can bother him.

“The hospital wing,” she answers, James nodding like it should be obvious. Remus goes to protest. He’s not that unwell, this happens all the time around the full-

Hold on.

The hospital wing. Nobody can bother him there.

Lily’s just given him the solution.

With that decided, he lets her lead him out of the Great Hall, trying to ignore the eyes on him. James and Peter are close behind, as they walk together to the wing. Madame Pomfrey’s bound to give him something to let him sleep through the day, if he asks.

The moment he arrives, Madame Pomfrey’s sitting in front of him. He doesn’t say much, Lily explaining on his behalf. Poppy nods, listening carefully.

“I think I have just the thing. One moment, lovely.” She pats his knee, standing and walking away.

“D’you want us to stay?” James asks, offering Remus a small smile.

Thank fuck. He shakes his head, trying to mirror James’ smile.

“I’ll be fine. See you later?” They all start to leave, Lily squeezing his hand before she leaves.

It doesn’t take long for Madame Pomfrey to come back, potion in hand.

“It’ll slow your heart down a little,” she explains, as he pulls the cork off and drinks it dutifully. He can still feel her eyes on him, watching him carefully. “How are you feeling, Remus?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Remus says back with a shrug. “Freaked Lily out more than me.”

“Mm. How about in general? You seem a little dejected.”

He stiffens a little at that. Poppy’s scarily good at this stuff, but he was hoping that she’d think he was just stressed because the moon’s close. For a moment, he goes to say exactly that; he’s just feeling antsy, what with the moon being so close.

The moment he opens his mouth, a lump forms in his throat. He can’t form the word fine, it just won’t happen.

God, he’s actually going to cry.

The tears spill over before he has a chance to blink them back. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s telling Poppy everything. He’s careful to leave Sirius’ name out of it, but that’s about as much control he’s capable of. Embarrassingly enough, Poppy hears everything. The conversations they’d had about secrecy, the argument, the fact that Remus wanted to tell him he loved him. Absolutely everything, through tears and a fair amount of hyperventilating.

To her credit, Poppy listens to it all. She sits and lets him vent everything, quietly empathetic right to the last word. Once he’s finished, he feels a bit stupid. The hospital wing isn’t meant for this. He’s taking up her time. He forces himself to take a deep breath, swiping the tears away quickly.

“Sorry.”

“Remus, dear, you have no reason to apologise.” She pulls her wand out, seamlessly bringing a bar of chocolate from her office. “Here. You can stay a while, if you want to.” He fiddles with the wrapper, nodding gratefully.

“Thanks, Madame Pomfrey.”

“Of course. Have a bit of a break.”

She leaves him alone, then. Standing and leaving with a reassuring smile. He practically exhausted himself with all of that. He doesn’t even realise that he’s about to fall asleep until he’s out.

When he wakes up hours later, James and Peter are talking next to his bed. He blinks harshly, sitting up. He didn't mean to sleep for that long, but at least it got rid of his headache.

"Hey," James says. "Feeling better?"

Remus nods once. He actually feels like he's a being a bit dramatic about everything, but it's not like James can hear that, can he?

"Yeah. Ready to go, actually." He swings his legs out of bed, quickly shooting Poppy a grateful glance.

They walk back to the common room slowly. Remus doesn't really speak much. He doesn't have anything to say.

"Padfoot's pissed at me," James says suddenly, scanning the map. "I'm pretty sure he's spent the whole day trying to avoid me. Look, he isn't even in the dorm!"

Remus wants to say something, then. Say that Sirius just feels awkward after what happened between them. Still, he bites his tongue.

"Well," Pete pipes up, "you did get a girl he didn't know go and kiss him."

Remus practically stops in his tracks, stunned. It takes way too much effort to keep his legs moving.

"I didn't know she was going to kiss him!" James protested. "All I told her to do was ask him out!"

"Yeah," Pete shrugs. "He doesn't know that though, does he?"

The realisation starts to dawn on Remus, like ice water running down his back.

"He stopped her in her tracks, anyway. I don't know, I feel like it should have blown over by now, y'know? Nothing even happened!" James says, frustrated, guilt laced through his voice.

"Oh, fuck," Remus groans to himself. He's really fucked up.

"Moony, you okay?" James asks.

"Yeah. No. I don't- I'll see you later," he says quickly, grabbing the map from James and practically running off. He doesn't even think about how confused his friends must be. He can't. His mind is stuck on Sirius.

Merlin, poor Sirius.

With a quick glance at the map, he runs across the castle. It's like his brain has woken up, adrenaline feeding him, letting him ignore his hip. Nothing feels as important as getting to Sirius right now. He's jumped to the worst conclusion of his life.

It doesn't take him long to get to the One Eyed Witch passage. Sirius hasn't moved, as Remus shuts the map, pulling the entrance open. He jumps a mile at Remus' arrival, and Remus catches him subtly wiping the tears from his cheeks. His heart tugs painfully, guilt following along with it.

"M- Remus, sorry, I-"

"I, er..." Remus starts quickly, cheeks pinking a little. "I actually came to find you."

Sirius' eyes widen, and Remus steps inside, shutting the passage behind him.

"I- Padfoot, I'm so sorry."

"You're..."

"I should have let you explain. I shouldn't have just... assumed that you'd do something like that." He says gently, sitting opposite Sirius in the small passage.

"Moony, I didn't- she- I promise-" Sirius' face twists awkwardly as he stumbles for the words.

"I know," Remus answers, reaching out and grabbing Sirius' hands in his. "James said. Honestly? I should have known. It was awful of me, not letting you explain. I'm so sorry."

"No, I get it. Really, Moony, I do," Sirius says hurriedly, squeezing Remus' hands once. "After what I said, I get it. I'm- Christ, I was an idiot saying any of that." Remus tries to wave him off, but Sirius doesn't stop. "No, really. I don't think any of what I said. I'm sure, Remus. I really am sure. I just- I don't know, I freaked out. I was still thinking about Prongs not finding out, but I also wanted to tell you I love you, and I didn't-" He cuts himself off, and Remus can see the shock ripple through him.

Sirius loves him?

"Shit. Bugger. I didn't mean to-" He buries his face into his hands, groaning. "Sorry."

There's already a smile growing on Remus' face, though. This is the last thing he expected.

"Sirius," he says gently, reaching up and pulling Sirius' hands from his face. "I love you."

Sirius' breath catches in his throat, eyes darting over Remus' face.

"You- Merlin, Remus, I love you so much. I'm so in love with you," he says quickly, and Remus just can't take it anymore. He leans in and connects their lips without a second thought. Sirius lets out a muffled noise of surprise, hands moving to cup Remus' face.

It dawns on Remus, in this moment, that nobody else needs to know. He's been so worried about how Sirius felt, that he'd essentially taken the fact that Sirius isn't ready to tell people as a sign that he didn't like Remus.

Who else needs to know? This is theirs.

They can stay secret for a little longer.

[wishcamper]

Nessian Week Day 5 - Behind Closed Doors

I meant to write a sexy, Casino Royale-esque poker scene but it somehow ended up as Cassian fangirling over his wife for 3k words so uh. Here you go.

Read here or on ao3!

High Stakes

A/N: This prompt really made me want to play with the idea of layers of intimacy in long-term relationships because a) I don’t think we have enough representations of healthy, fulfilling, functional monogamy and b) I‘ve always thought there was beautiful potential for Nessian to know and understand each other to the point where they can see all the layers of the other person, and be able to hold space for the other’s complexity. I’d just really like to believe that’s possible. So I hope that comes across. 

I’m exploring some of these same ideas in ACOVAV, my ongoing ACOSF fix-it. Questions around the character’s experiences and my own, like: what does it look like to build tension in a story and depth in a relationship without miscommunication or people treating each other badly? What if it’s two people trying their best to get close while also wrestling with their own individual shit in very real, understandable ways? What exists at that intersection between me and us? Something interesting, I think.

If that interests you too, you can read that fic on ao3 :)

---

“Mr. Archeron.”

“Marlowe. How’s she looking tonight?”

Two males stood before the door of a long-vacant tavern, sweating slightly in the night air thick and lush as it only was in summer, Velaris bursting with vitality after dark. The cobblestone streets were full of revelers who passed by without a second glance, ignorant that beyond the hidden entrance lay a world where fortunes were won and lost, where the honor of courts rose and fell at the discretion of a female known only in whispers as the Queen of Cards.

A female who just happened to be Cassian’s wife.

“A strong start,” Marlowe said as he ushered Cassian into the candlelit basement, flickering shadows belying the bustling street above. “The High Lord from Autumn has cheek, though.” 

“Yeah, Eris gets like that when he’s losing.”

They shook hands and Cassian made his way down the dim hallway, the sounds of chatter and shuffling and clinking coins drifting toward him. He could hear Eris braying high above the others, Rhys’ smooth voice giving back just as good. When he reached the arched entrance to the playing room, everyone had their backs to him except Nesta, who glanced up from her three-card hand and smiled. 

She always faced the door during games, ready to protect her players’ privacy in case someone got past Marlowe, though it had the unintended effect of giving him a moment to take her in uninterrupted. Her gown was midnight blue tonight, long sleeves in tiers of iridescent silk like a dragonfly’s wings, hair cascading over one shoulder studded with opals that turned fiery in the faelights.

A glittering queen holding court. And damn if Cassian didn’t want to go to his knees before her, still, after all this time.

“Can we get on with it or do I need to send you two to time out?” she asked the still-squabbling High Lords without missing a beat, tossing her cards in and signaling to the silver clad dealer to begin the next round before. She threw in her ante next, silver bracelets chiming at her wrist with the movement.

With some grumblings the players turned to their hands, and Cassian edged along the wall to where Emerie sat at a high table on her own, grazing on the arrayed refreshments and accounting her winnings in a worn ledger. 

“I was up and didn’t want to push my luck,” the female whispered when he nodded in greeting, giving him a sly smile. Cassian smiled back - Emerie always came out on top. He suspected Nesta was subtly losing to her friend on purpose after the female refused to let her fund an expansion of her shop. And he suspected Emerie knew it, too, but both were too proud to say it aloud. She licked the tip of her pencil and made another note. “Plus, it’s fun to watch your mate knock a few High Lords down a peg.”

“Sometimes I wonder if that’s the real game,” he confessed, and Emerie grinned smugly, wings ruffling with delight.

They observed the game in silence for a moment, allowing Cassian time to survey the other players in attendance tonight. There was an endless rotating cast of characters at Nesta’s now-famous monthly games, the invitation so coveted they’d had all manner of bribes delivered to the House of Wind by very confused messengers. Thankfully all gifts were now rerouted to a third-party location, after a lesser lord of Summer sent a dozen peacocks they’d chased about the House for hours.

There were seven of them tonight as usual, including Emerie, all faces he recognized buried in their cards around the half-moon table. Granted, it helped that nearly half the players were his wife, her best friend, and Rhys, whose pile of coin looked so pitifully low Cassian couldn’t help but smirk when he caught his brother’s eye.

“We should raise the blind,” Rhys interjected. “What's the point of playing if you’re eschewing risk?”

It still surprised Cassian sometimes that Rhys kept coming back despite showing no taste for gambling in the past. But he supposed Rhys had always been weirdly competitive with Nesta, and even though they’d buried the hatchet long ago Nesta still loved winning her brother-in-law’s money fair and square. Which she did without fail, hand over fist, with a silent pact between them not to tell Feyre.

Neither of her sisters knew, by design he suspected, and Mor was off in Montesere ‘finding herself’ again, whatever that meant. Azriel had a brief, brilliant run before his competitiveness got the best of him and he was banned for brawling at the table, one of the only standing rules. Emerie and Eris were regulars, and he’d seen the others in attendance before: broad-shouldered Megrin Stonecutter of the Velaris maester’s guild and Nuan of Dawn, who perched cross-legged in her chair, a pair of elaborate spectacles whirring on her round face

Opposite Nesta tonight sat the High Lord of Day, still radiant despite having foregone his usual golden adornments. Helion looked nonplussed by his own losing streak as Cassian watched him toss his cards face down in front of him, leaving only Rhys, Eris, and Nesta still alive in the hand.

“I fold. You all are vicious. Are you not joining us, Cass?”

“And add one more body to the slaughter? No thanks.” He’d never had much interest, content to watch Nesta splatter egos against the wall.

Megrin grunted in agreement and slid her cards to the dealer past the large pile of gold in the center. “I’m out, too. Clearly someone knows something I don’t.”

“It’s yours to call, Eris,” Rhys said breezily. “Unless you’re waiting to ask your father’s ghost for permission.”

Cassian snorted, making eye contact with Rhys again, who shot him a shit-eating grin as Eris covered his mouth with a stiff hand, brow furrowed. 

To everyone’s surprise, Beron Vanserra had been felled two years prior by an ordinary fever. No one in Autumn nor elsewhere could make sense of it - it was as if one day the hands of hel simply reached up and snatched him back into the earth. So a court that had once been destined for a bloody coup passed the crown peacefully, which was a good thing all around, though Rhys loved painting Eris as a cowardly dawdler whose target put himself in an early grave just to end the waiting.

The Autumn lord sneered at the insult, still waffling. “Some of us prefer to think about our actions, Rhysand, instead of barrelling forward with whatever scheme will inflate our self-importance the most. Stealing things from other courts, for example, books, brides -“

Nesta glanced over at Cassian then, crossing and uncrossing her fingers where they lay against her cheek, and he had to stifle the laugh that bubbled forth at the private joke, just for him. It was her signal that sexual tension was present in the room, sometimes to indicate she wanted to leave whatever function they were at, sometimes so they could share a roll of their eyes. In this case he knew she meant the squabbling lords, as many a late night they’d mused that Eris and Rhys could get past their rivalry if they just had sex about it. 

“As much as I enjoy seeing Rhysand’s self-importance punctured,” Nesta drawled when the latter opened his mouth to retort. “You can’t delay your bet with old, petty scores. We’re all rather bored with it. If you’re going to cheat, at least use some imagination.” 

She sipped at her glass of pomegranate juice, a frequent gift of affection from Helion and a nod to the other rule: no alcohol. 

Rhys’ expression flashed briefly with betrayal, but he schooled it quickly, knowing better than to give himself away. But Cassian knew Nesta’s smoky eyes clocked it before they turned to Eris. 

“I remember you once tempting me with an invitation to Autumn, to see how a High Lord plays. Is this what you had in mind?” She gestured to the modest pile of gold in front of him. “I rather think I made the right decision, don’t you?”

Emerie chuckled beside him, and Cassian felt a thrill low in his stomach to see Nesta so self-possessed, lit from within. After everything they’d been through with the Trove, with their families, a part of him wondered if he’d ever see her ferocity again, if the sharp point of that viper’s tongue would smooth over for good. 

She’d become very soft for about a decade after the Blood Rite, and they’d taken long walks through the Illyrian Steppes and the Myrmidons, swam in streams and lakes and the oceans of Summer, watched the bees drift lazily from flower to flower in Elain’s gardens in Day. It was as if she’d needed to come completely to rest before deciding what to do next. And the solitude seemed to give her a sense of clarity, but he’d been glad as fuck to be an exception to that rule, to witness the private puzzlings and support her in finding purpose in her life.

They’d only just returned to Velaris the previous spring, when the threads of family and duty pulled them home at last. Their time away was intimate and lovely, some of the best years of his life, yet Cassian enjoyed seeing Nesta confident out in the world again. The poker game had been the first of many things to draw her out, and he couldn’t wait to see what she’d surprise him with next, his strong, clever, deadly little wife.

Eris grumbled and tossed a few coins in the middle. “Happy now? Or would you prefer to seduce it out of me?”

Cassian watched her swallow the barb, which would’ve sent her into survival mode in the past and now rolled off her with barely a ripple. Leashed his own instincts to leap across the room and tackle Eris to the ground, because Nesta wouldn’t hesitate to kick him out for breaking the rules too, mate or no, and he’d miss his favorite show.

“Your luck doesn’t extend that far tonight,” she said demurely, and Cassian knew the smug prick was too stupid to see her coiling up to strike when the time was right. Nesta won the hand a moment later to groans all around, her Winter flush beating Rhys’ three pixies and Eris’ two pair, nymphs and kelpies.

“I propose a wager," Nesta declared as the next hand was dealt, her voice velvety and inviting. "The victor of the evening wins one favor of their choosing...” Eyes lit up around the table, anticipation deepening. “...from my husband.”

They all turned toward Cassian where he was leaning against the wall with an amused grin now, and he raised an eyebrow at his mate. Her eyes flashed silver where she stared back at him, and he felt her send a soothing wave down the bond, assuring him of her intent. Inviting him into the ruse. Cassian made a show of looking chagrined, shuffling his feet as he looked down.

Rhys was the first to respond, smirking. “I’ll take that bet.” 

Cassian knew he was incensed at the idea of losing, wrongly fancying himself more clever than his sister-in-law. Nesta knew it, too, and that arrogance made him play more recklessly.

“Count me out,” said Helion, winking. “You’re pretty, Cass, but my minister of finance will have my head if I lose any more.”

“Ah, why not?” Nuan flushed, uncomfortable with the attention now drawn her way, and chuckled nervously. “Not sure what use I’d have for you, dear, but who knows what worth it may hold!”

Megrin pursed her lips, sizing him up. “He has a strong enough back I suppose. I’ve been meaning to rearrange my forge.”

“Any favor of my choosing?” Eris mused, and Cassian felt the Autumn lord’s gaze roving over his body and then Nesta’s, possessive and hungry. The years hadn’t changed everything. Nesta answered with nothing but a feline smile.

The next few rounds passed in a blur of bluffs and bold plays. Nesta remained composed even on the hands she lost, an almost bored air to the way she watched the males bluster and crow. Eris' anger grew while Rhys shot daggers with his glare at her every win, turning each hand into an unnecessary battle of wills that made him play sloppy. Nuan ducked out when it became clear the prize wasn’t hers, and Megrin hung on for a while longer, bluffing her way through until her luck ran dry, to Cassian’s relief. 

One by one, Nesta outplayed them, her composure never faltering as she watched her opponents fume, each loss reigniting their fervor to win.

At last the players were down to the final hand, and the air in the hidden basement crackled with anticipation. The dealer laid down the community cards as bets went around: a wyvern, a lord, a lady, and a cave troll. Each still in signaled for new cards, Nesta tapping once against the table, her face revealing nothing. Cassian could feel his chest tighten as they sized each other up before Rhys pushed all his chips into the pot with a confident smirk.

"All in."

Unfazed, Nesta called his bet, gesturing idly at her pile for the dealer to sweep into the center with his crook. That left only Eris to decide his own fate, as well as Cassian’s.

He puzzled for a long while with his head in his hands before he finally spoke, low and deliberate. "I’ll call."

Coins cascaded into the center, a shower of gold. Then the final card was revealed—another lady. All coins in the center, it felt like everyone held their breath as the three remaining players revealed their hands. 

Rhys set down two lords, the grin spreading across his face triumphant and sure, the poor bastard. Eris only clucked his tongue and revealed his full house, ladies full of wyverns, smug despite achieving it on the last draw.

But Cassian knew it wasn’t over yet. He turned to where his wife was toying with the edge of her hand, and he’d seen that pose too many times not to recognize it at once: You Have Just Royally Fucked Yourself. Silver rolled over Nesta’s eyes, and with prim efficiency she laid down the three remaining trolls in the deck, one after another.

The room erupted, Eris upending his chair as he leapt to his feet, Rhys shouting about cheating and Helion tipping his head back to let loose a peal of laughter soon joined by Emerie and Nuan’s, by Megrin’s groan. Cassian couldn’t help the dopey grin that spread across his face, how at home Nesta looked in the sea of chaos when she winked at him, calmly piling her coins into neat stacks.

Once everyone had regained their heads they all passed a lovely hour in conversation, the air hazy from the cigarettes Nesta usually smoked with Lucien at their gossip sessions disguised as afternoon tea. Rhys departed first, claiming a return to his fatherly duties, though they all knew he was off to beg Feyre’s sympathies while he licked his wounds for reasons he’d never confess. Emerie left with a tight hug and a promise to have them up to Windhaven soon to see her new expansion, and Eris gave Nesta a begrudging bow before Helion swooped in and kissed her on the cheek. He did the same to Cassian, and they heard his warm voice echoing down the corridor, giving Eris shit all the way up the stairs.

Alone now, Cassian came up behind where Nesta was tucking a handful of coins in a pouch for Marlowe, looped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. She batted at him but he felt her lean backwards all the same, cracking the door to that soft place within, that only her loved ones were allowed to enter. He knew she liked the affection, even if part of her still hated to admit it, if she only wanted it when it was just them.

“Wicked woman,” he teased, and he felt her smile against his cheek, the press of her nails into his forearm. “Were you seriously going to let Eris have his way with me?”

Nesta turned in his arms and he took her in close up for the first time all day, having left her snoring softly that morning when he departed for Windhaven. He warmed to see her face still relaxed and open, the ease in her posture. 

“If he won, sure.”

Cassian snorted. “I don’t know if that’s a testament to your confidence or your willingness to torture me.”

The candlelight flickered silver around them for a moment and he drew her close once more, breathing deep the vanilla and jasmine scent of her hair, the lingering smokiness. Nesta linked her hands behind his back and squeezed him hard, impatient.

“Can’t it be both? Now take me home, Lady Death is tired.”

“Is that your favor for winning, sweetheart?”

“No,” she said, eyes dancing and devious when he pulled back. “I’ve much bigger plans for you.”

And oh, she did.

They ended the night in Cassian’s favorite way, with him sprawled atop her, head pillowed on her chest, her long fingers working through the snarls in his hair he’d earned in their pleasure. The House dimmed the lights in the bedchamber that was once his, the door now warded to both their hands. Hands that bore twin golden rings and tattoos of an eight-pointed star, tokens of their promises, both his and hers.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

Nesta’s voice was thick and fuzzy, and he felt a quiet contentment on her end of the bond. It was rare for her to inhabit it in public as much as she had tonight, and Cassian remembered when her end of the bridge between them had been locked tight, impenetrable. He’d made a fool of himself trying to break through early in their love, using brute force to smash past her defenses, leaving her exposed. 

But now he knew the secret that should’ve been obvious, that he only had to knock.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

She smiled with her eyes closed and pursed her lips, kissing the air before sleep dragged her under.

[into-deepspace]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day!

May I request for Rafayel's reaction when MC comes out as non-binary? It's something that's never left my head since I started playing lnds. I can't help but worry if it'd change things for him even though I know it won't (insecurity did a number on me🥹). What if MC wanted to present themes as masc/femme? How would he react?

Sorry if this is too long and complicated and I understand if you don't want to write for this but if you do write it it'd mean the world to me. Thank you for reading this ask🌸🌸

aaa of course!!! dw it wasn't long or complicated at all! i had a lot of fun writing this, and i rlly hope i did rafayel justice here <33 i feel like it ended awkwardly but ah what can u do. anywayyyy:

as you are

rafayel/mc • nonbinary mc • 1.6k • ao3 link requests open, reblogs appreciated! mild hurt/comfort || coming out || tooth-rotting fluff || established relationship

MC stares at themselves in the mirror fixing their hair nervously. In twenty minutes, they’re meeting Rafayel at a cafe, one of their favourites. They’d made the plans several days ago, and have been nervously thinking through every possibility ever since. After all, coming out, no matter who it’s to, is nerve wracking.

“I need to talk to you,” they’d sent him, late in the evening when both of them really should have been asleep. Despite the late hour, typing bubbles immediately popped up from Rafayel’s end. He sends a sticker of a distressed yellow bird, then a message.

Rafayel, 11:48 PM are u breaking up with me :(

A bit frantic, MC typed back a quick response. Of course Rafayel, ever dramatic, would assume the worst.

MC, 11:48 PM No omg?

Rafayel, 11:48 PM DUN SCARE ME LIKE THAT THEN???? Those are FIGHTING WORDS. fighting words i tell u!!

MC sighed, but couldn't help but laugh a bit. It was never a dull moment with him around, one of the things they have always loved about him. They explained that no, they're not breaking up with him, but they did have something a little more serious they needed to talk with him about.

Rafayel, 12:03 AM okayyyy spill the beans cutie wait no serious I Am Prepared To Listen To Your Words. Please Begin.

MC, 12:04 AM Actually, i wanted to talk in person Can we meet @ our usual cafe on saturday

They waited nervously for Rafayel's response, picking at a stray thread in their blanket. But as usual, they had nothing to worry about

Rafayel, 12:05 AM ofc ofc ill buy u a tea and a cake and we can talk <3

They couldn't help but smile at their phone. He was always so sweet, so ready to adjust and accommodate. They just hope he’ll be the same way about this new revelation.

Now, MC has been going by their chosen name for a long while, so long that most people don’t even know the name they were given at birth. They’ve always presented a little more [femme/masc] than their peers, and Rafayel didn’t seem to mind any of that. If anything, he encouraged it, saying that the way they expressed themselves was art in it of itself. But would this, their coming out, be a piece of the puzzle that he wasn’t okay with?

MC sighs, smoothing their clothes one last time and telling themselves that they really do need to get going. Sitting here and stewing in their anxieties isn’t going to make anything better. They grab their bike helmet and make their way down to the street, setting off.

An uneventful drive later, they arrive at the cafe and park, fixing their hair in their phone camera after they take their helmet off. It seems Rafayel hasn’t arrived yet, which means they can go in and order for themselves. Usually, they’re fine with Rafayel paying for their treats, but what if he’s upset this time? What if he realizes he’s spent money on someone he can’t accept.

Just as they’re pulling their card from their wallet to pay for their drink and pastry, an arm wraps around their waist and lips press against their cheek, startling them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rafayel says, tone light and joking as he slips their wallet from their hands, tucking it back into their pocket. Ignoring their protests, he turns to the person at the register. “Add a vanilla iced coffee to that please, with… hm, six sugars.” MC can only watch as his drink is added to the total and he slots his card into the reader, looking pleased with himself.

Rafayel takes their hand and walks them over to a table by the window, pulling out their chair for them with a dramatic flourish. Normally, MC would laugh at his antics, but they’re too nervous right now to manage anything more than a tight smile. Rafayel, of course, notices right away.

“What’s wrong, cutie?” he asks, taking their hands as he kneels in front of their chair. MC takes a shaky breath, trying to school their expression into something at least neutral.

“I’m okay,” they say. “I promise.” For a moment, Rafayel tilts his head and searches their face. Then, with a sigh, he stands, pressing a kiss to their knuckles as he does.

“Okay,” he smiles. “We’ll talk once you’ve got something tasty to keep you company, okay?” This prompts a smile, a little more real this time, from MC.

“Okay,” they whisper.

Ever the gentleman, Rafayel goes to retrieve their order, tasting his own drink before adding two more pumps of sugary syrup to it and sprinkling cinnamon across the top. He comes back to their table, setting MC’s portion in front of them. They taste their own drink and nod in satisfaction, cutting a piece of their pastry to place into their mouth.

“Do you want some?” they ask, offering a forkful to Rafayel. With an easy smile, he waves away their question.

“Nah,” he says. “This here is sweet enough.” He shakes his drink, the ice in it rattling as specks of cinnamon swirl around. MC nods, taking the bite for themselves.

They let themselves savor the moment for a bit before speaking. After all, they don’t know if this is something they’ll ever have again. They make their way about halfway through the pastry before they take another long sip of their drink and fold their hands in their lap.

“I have something I need to tell you,” they say, before they can lose their resolve. “...Please don’t be upset with me.” Rafayel smiles, reaching across the table with his palm up, gesturing for their hand. MC obliges, tangling their fingers together, and Rafayel squeezes reassuringly.

“I won’t be,” he promises. “You can tell me anything. I swear.”

MC takes a deep breath. They appreciate that he’s putting his usual jokes and quips aside, sensing the nervous gravity of the moment, but it almost makes them even more anxious. Biting their lip, MC decides it’s better to rip the metaphorical band-aid off in one go.

“I’m nonbinary,” they say simply. “And I’m sorry I’ve been keeping this from you.”

Rafayel blinks for a moment, silent. MC feels their eyes sting.

“What?”

“Uh.” Out of all the scenarios they’d mentally prepared for, this wasn’t one of them. “You know,” they begin, “like, I’m not a guy, but I’m also not a girl. It’s-”

“No, I know what nonbinary means, silly,” Rafayel grins. “Why would you ever think I’d be upset at you over this?” MC feels the sting in their eyes become welling moisture, and Rafayel scrambles to drag his chair around to their side of the table and pull them into a tight embrace.

“I thought you were gonna tell me that you were moving away, or that you lost your job or something!” he says, rocking them back and forth, gently, slowly. With a shaky breath, MC tucks their face into Rafayel’s shoulder, smiling to themselves. But he’s not done, continuing as he pulls them tighter.

“And if you come to me tomorrow and say you feel some other way, or that you want to change your name or buy new clothes or change your hair, that’s okay! MC, I love you no matter what. I promise, something like this is never ever going to come between me and you.” They’re full on sobbing now, the relief that comes with acceptance and the lovely promises spilling from Rafayel’s lips making all sorts of emotions surge in their chest.

Rafayel pulls back, cupping their face with one hand and wiping their tears away with the other. He smiles, a radiant and loving thing, and MC can’t help but give a breathy, relieved laugh as he leans in to place light little kisses along their cheeks.

“I don’t know why I was so nervous,” MC admits. “You never did anything to make me worried about this.” Rafayel shrugs.

“It’s a big thing to tell someone,” he says. “I’m proud of you. I know this took a lot.”

“It really did,” MC acknowledges. Rafayel ruffles their hair affectionately before scooting his chair back over to his side, keeping one of MC’s hands in his own.

“Okay, okay,” he says, buzzing with energy now that the serious moment is waning. “Finish your pastry and then we can go shopping.” MC blinks, surprised.

“We weren’t planning on going-”

“Uh-uh!” Rafayel cuts in, waving a hand in their face and startling a laugh from them. “Shhhh, we’re going shopping. You wanna go buy pretty things with me soooo bad. You would never think of saying no to this lovely face of mine.”

“Oh, my god,” MC laughs, nearly dropping their fork. “You’re so dramatic.” In response, Rafayel gives a pleased smile and makes a motion as if flicking hair behind his shoulder. MC shakes their head good naturedly, taking another bite of their pastry.

They do, in fact, end up out in the shops, and Rayafel buys them a jacket they’ve been eyeing for a long while. The two of them swing their intertwined hands between them as they walk, enjoying each others’ presence. It’s late in the evening by the time they decide to part ways, and even then, Rafayel convinces MC to sleep over at his house.

A couple hours later, laying in bed, MC watches Rafayel’s sleeping face with a soft smile. They never thought they’d be lucky enough for a relationship like this.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

OH. okay so normally i dont touch discourse with a 20 ft pole, but this has been niggling at my brain tonight and i finally realized why

the people who are mad at qbbh for the memory loss and “dodging consequences” dont understand that he doesnt want to dodge consequences. Like they cant know that, they werent focused on him when he was literally feeding himself to the soul vultures and planning his eventual imprisonment and also. The Many Many Many hints he made towards suicide/sacrifice/Just Fucking Dying.

ccbbh is a subtle roleplayer, he’s been building this shit up for two whole months- it was day FIVE of the eggs going missing that he resolved to do whatever it took (hurting his friends) to get the eggs back. It was day three that he followed in dapper’s footsteps and started feeding himself to the soul vultures (and gaining a Massive headwound beneath his hood in the process- you can only see it if you go on namemc and remove the layers). He’s got impaired judgement. Even the memory issues arent a new thing- i cant remember exactly when they started, but one of the first big moments i remmeber was september 30th where he spent an hour falling into a delusional frenzy searching his base for cameras that he forgot he asked aypierre to plant.

The super murder of purgatory and the memory loss afterwards probably all feels very sudden for people who havent been following his story, but as someone who has been- all of this has been true to character. The only cheap swings he’s made have been combat-based in purgatory, and even the motive for those was built up in rp.

People are calling for consequences, but he has alrwady been experiencing self-inflicted consequences for months. The blue on his usual outfit is blood. This recent memory loss isnt a restart to get away with the atrocities - it is yet another consequence of his egg-protecting complexes and the ways he punishes himself for failing them.

he is NOT a moral character. he’s a demon hiding in plain site. he has eaten people. he has killed people. he understands the cruelty of his actions, and the consequences of them for the loved ones of his victims. but it matters when that harm is being done to his loved ones. he’ll still do it, because he will do anything for the eggs, but it matters, and that means that he has already started the process of self-inflicting those much-demanded consequences

[kineticallyanywhere]

I dont want this to happen in canon necessarily but if Law magic can force someone into the position of defendant inescapably no matter how they fight it (Glenn), imagine it forcing someone into the position of prosecution no matter how they fight it (Normal)

if Normal won't pop off Ratticus Finch (or one of their 40 children) should come back and do it for him. bring the receipts Jenna

[multicolour-ink]

(context in the tags)

[acgames]

One day I will become unhinged enough and will write an essay about Shay Cormac and his troublesome nature and how game's name "Rogue" not only symbolises Shay's switch of allegiances, but also describes his own personality.

[wild-at-mind]

Just remembering when I was waiting for bf to get his tatt done and looking at the magazines, they had one of those extreme body mods magazines which was interesting. I have never understood why people get this kind of body mod, but I'm trying to work on being more open minded. And from this magazine I can see clearly that the ethos is 'my body is mine and I should be allowed to choose to do these things to it', which resonates. And as a trans person I would hope I wouldn't forget that transphobes call transition 'irrepairable damage' and self harm. (I can remember watching those early 2000s documentaries where surgery for transition was basically framed as an extreme body mod to be looked at for shock value.)

So I'm looking at this magazine, all open minded like, and then suddenly one of the models (who was being interviewed for something else, like he had his dick split in two or something) just casually is like oh yeah I have tonnes of different types of swastika tattooed on my arm. And sure enough, then there's a pic of like...20 swastikas done in different ways all on one area of his arm.

:[

[minakoaiinos]

Anyway good morning.

[t4tstarvingdog]

okay because i submitted my last assignment. and i no longer feel the pressure to do it for school but instead can ramble on in my own way about it

[tpwrtrmnky]

hindsight

[ID: A two-panel comic with crudely drawn stick figures.

Panel 1: The lime green person is talking to the leaf green person and the moss green person.

Lime: "I... have a confession to make."

Leaf: "Go ahead."

Lime: "I want to rewatch the Wizard Child movies."

Leaf: "Didn't the wizard author get incredibly chromophobic?"

Lime: "Yeah I just... It's nostalgia you know? They meant a lot to me when I was a kid."

Panel 2: The three are on the couch.

Lime: "All right, let's go."

Leaf: "It's so weird how the wizard author just turned chromophobic though. Like I remember this series being pretty good for its time. It'll be weird seeing their work contrasting with their views now."

Moss: "I'm just glad we got the movies for free through normal and legal means. Heh."

End ID.]

[ID 2: Scenes from three Wizard Child movies.

Wizard Child and the Simplistic Morality: A slightly round child with a propeller hat is talking to a child with no hat.

Round child: "I am so fucking fat and greedy I am textually shown to be fat because I am greedy and also evil."

Hatless child: "You are to infer my moral purity from juxtaposition with this fat child. Woe is me for our shared parent has deprived me of a propeller hat."

Wizard Child and the Goodness of Wealth: An adult wizard is talking to the child, who now has a wizard hat.

Wizard Adult: "Wizard child you are secretly extremely rich."

Wizard Child: "I will form biases regarding the bankers all being triangular for some reason!"

Wizard Adult: "Your wealth is deserved because your true parent was Good and therefore you are also Good."

Wizard Child: "Now we should acquire consumer goods. Buy consumer goods!"

Wizard Child and the Dark Family History: A blue-grey horse person is talking to the wizard child.

Blue-grey: "No, wizard child. You don't understand. I am one of the good ones, because unlike the bad ones I don't try to spread my curse that makes you a blue-grey horselike creature to others!"

Wizard child: "Wow uncle blue-grey you are one of the good ones! I forgive you for being a horse because I am so good I would even forgive horses. I sure hope you don't conspicuously get killed off later in this movie!"

End ID 2.]

[ID 3: Oh hell no there are even more of these.

Wizard Youth and the Tokenistic Relationship Dynamics: A square headed wizard youth is talking to the former wizard child, now a wizard youth.

Square Wizard Youth: "Wizard child, as the only person with a square head in this entire series it is my duty to inform you that you are the savior of all people with square heads, too. Let us build a one-sided relationship that only furthers your character development, after which I will immediately lose all plot relevance."

Wizard Youth: "I will do this because I am a maturing wizard youth and need disposable relationships that don't threaten the endgame!"

Wizard Youth and the Escalation of Stakes: The Dark Wizard, a sort of grey-green person with a cloak, is pointing at Wizard Youth.

Dark Wizard: "Wizard Youth, I have returned!"

Wizard Youth: "Dark Wizard! Why are you green now?"

Dark Wizard: "Evil magic made me green! I am green with envy towards all who are good!"

Wizard Youth: "I will not engage with how you are clearly based on fascist ideologies and yet this narrative plays into fascist aesthetic sensibilities!"

Wizard Youth and the Post-Hoc Revelations: The Wizard Youth is leaning over their Wizard Mentor, who is laying in a pool of blood.

Wizard Youth: "Wizard Mentor no! You can't die!"

Wizard Mentor: "It is fine, wizard youth. My death will further your character development into a wizard adult. Also, I was secretly a very very dark purple this entire time. I never brought it up so I could retain narrative approval.

End ID 3.]

[ID 4: Wizard Adult and the Overdue Conclusion. Three panels. I am sorry.

Panel 1: The dark wizard is dueling the Wizard Adult with magic beams.

Dark Wizard: "Evil green beam!"

Wizard Adult: "Good red beam! Despite the enormous variety of magic in this series this is what our final battle looks like!"

Panel 2: Wizard Adult stands victorious over the dark wizard, who is dying on the ground.

Wizard Adult: "In the end, dark wizard, you were defeated because I am morally superior to you."

Dark Wizard: "I was a product of systemic failures. There will be someone like me again someday!"

Panel 3: Zoom in on wizard adult, who says:

"Not if I can help it. Because I am going to be a wizard cop now. The moral of this story is that all systemic issues can be solved by finding a bad guy to beat."

End ID 4.]

[ID 5: Four panels.

Panel 1: Return to the green trio on their couch, watching the TV say "The End." All are are silent.

Panel 2: They are sitting on the couch. Moss is looking at their phone.

Lime: "Yeah so there were maybe a few signs we missed because we were children."

Leaf: "Yeah. A few. Some."

Panel 3: Continue conversation.

Lime: "So what did you think, Moss?"

Panel 4: Zoom in on Moss, who says: "I've been zoned out on my phone since the second movie. They lost me at the magic stuff. Wizards aren't real."

End ID 5.]

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[theravequeen]

As (a demigender, not cis) someone who still likes Harry Potter but hates JK Rowling's guts, I think it's incredibly interesting to see how much Tumblr hates us, and how much the Harry Potter fandom doesn't understand WHY.

You can't say you don't support the author and then continue buying Harry Potter merch, continue watching the movies on streaming services, continue giving your money to her, and expecting for her to die out of relevancy or for her to change.

The longer you give her a platform, and FUNDS, the more people she will hurt.

But also, in turn, I don't think the people here understand that picking up a Harry Potter book my mom bought 15 years ago before I knew what being LGBT meant or even what being a feminist meant, does NOT give her money,,,,,,Its a falling apart, dilapidated copy, and unless i dont know how money works, reading that book (or watching old DVDs) doesnt generate money for her.

I'm not gonna put any tags on this because I don't feel like getting hunted for sport or told to kms just because I enjoy a book series but yeah.

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[snekdood]

idk how or when i got 700 followers but cool and hi i guess

[roses-red-and-pink]

Anyone else feel like when you make big strides in your faith that’s when you also feel the most doubt?? Idk it’s like I’ve felt really close to God lately and then I also have all these questions at the same time.