#I have a new respect for ppl who don’t have homes

[waywardangel-wilds]

Most unhinged HC about post-MJ everlark?

Hmmm I don’t know. I feel like my hcs are pretty tame. Let me write down my most silly ones:

No.1: they gossip together. They GAB. They love to talk shit at home.

No.2: Katniss has a jealous fit over something or someone and Peeta which Peeta reacts to with confusion and then laughs about it for years. “Hey Katniss, remember when—” “SHUT UP.”

No.3: Peeta’s on a mission to have sex everywhere he’s ever wanted to in his fantasies. All furniture. In the woods. In the bakery. They would do the school too but the chances of getting arrested and traumatizing someone are too high. Oh and in Peeta’s new-to-him truck too.

No. 4: Peeta cannot be normal about sports. As the volunteer coach he’s gotten complaints but no one is brave enough to tell him to stop being so annoying outright. Imagine Katniss watching in the background with sunglasses and a smirk during a sunny day.

No. 5: Peeta and Katniss enjoyed doing the whole “polishing my gun” routine (but without an actual gun lol) for their daughter’s first boyfriend.

No. 6: Katniss cannot be normal about Peeta on the days after they sleep together for the first time. She wants to do it all the time. When they go out in public it’s kind of obvious by her face alone what she’s thinking about. It makes construction crews laugh and elderly ladies raise their eyebrows. Haymitch laughed so hard he choked and slapped his knee. Called her a starving dog and Peeta the unfortunate piece of meat in her path. Peeta does not care, he’s getting lots of liquids in, he can do this.

No. 7: if Finnick had survived he’d be the most no-boundaries friend ever. He’d just show up unannounced all the time. Picture him in flip flops and a Hawaiian shirt ready to use Peeta and Katniss’s nonexistent grill. The friendship would be immaculate. He’d be the glue who’d form the victors friend group: Jo, Peeta, Katniss, Annie and Finnick. He’d force them all to get on his boat all the time. He’d introduce Peeta to rum just to watch his face get all pink. He’d see Katniss like this little-sister best friend type but he’d still make dirty jokes at her cause she’ll never be able to handle those. Him and Jo are the best duo. Bro should have lived.

No. 8: Katniss, at 38, can still miss the point when someone tells her a dirty joke which her friends LOVE. she’s frequently like “what are you talking about?” And everyone just laughs. Also, Katniss is so used to Peeta just getting her that when her friends complain about their husbands not listening, or not understanding her honest reaction is: “just break up???” And everyone is like “girl, it’s not that serious. You just have the perfect husband.”

No. 9: Katniss cried one time when her daughter said she didn’t want to play with her anymore because who wants to play with their mom when they could just go outside and play with their friends. Peeta found her sobbing over a tray of cookies and tried not to laugh because it really isn’t that serious. It’s totally okay for ten year olds to want to be outside, but Katniss was still like “she doesn’t like me 😭”

No. 10: Where Peeta was a hopeless romantic who only ever wanted to be with one girl Peeta’s son goes through girls like water. It’s what Peeta yells about in the car when it’s just him and the boy. “Why?! Be respectful! I didn’t raise you like this!” I’m a believer in that the toastbabies are nothing like their parents. They’re their own unique ppl with the ability of driving both their parents up the wall. I looove thinking about them being teenagers and rebelling. Their kids grew up in a mansion, they’re gonna have a fun rebellion haha.

[cosmiclion]

Some ppl have shown interest in my lil self indulgent YOI AU (tl;dr if u haven't seen my previous posts: the only difference is that Viktor and Yurio are half siblings -on their mother's side, so that each keeps their respective last name- and the parents aren't around anymore by the time Yurio is 6 so he spends half his off time with Viktor and the other half with Nikolai), so I made more art of it bc it brings me joy 👉👈 And then I felt like writing a lil something to go with the piece bc why not, I very rarely write but when I do it's so much fun. Text under the cut.

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“I did great, right, Vitya?” the little blonde boy asked excitedly as the silver haired teenager crouched down before him to pull up the zipper of his parka. A brown standard poodle pranced happily around them.

The older boy smiled fondly. “You were amazing, Yurochka.” He squeezed his cheeks and chuckled at the noise of indignation that came in response. “I’m sorry, mama and papa couldn’t come to see you skate today either. But grandpa took a lot of photos and videos to show them.” He adjusted the hat on the kid’s head before standing up. “Now come on, let’s not keep him waiting.”

Little Yuri’s eyes lit up at the sight of Nikolai near the exit and he dashed towards the man, Makkachin trotting after him and Viktor following close behind. The kid talked their ears off during the short walk to the car and during the whole ride, through mouthfuls of the pirozhki his grandfather had brought, proudly boasting about every new thing he could do on the ice now. Seated next to him on the backseat to keep an eye on his greedy dog, Viktor just listened and nodded along, trying and failing not to let his mind drift off.

At only 17, figure skating genius Viktor Nikiforov was under an enormous amount of pressure that had nothing to do with any competition. Even for someone who spent as much time away as he did, it was hard to miss that things had been going not so great at home. He had left in pursuit of his dreams long before Yuri was born, only to come back sporadically and spend short periods with his family before going away again, but he had to be blind not to notice just how starved for attention his younger brother was and just how absent his mother and her new husband were.

For a long time now, Nikolai had been putting in the work of being there emotionally for Yuri since his parents barely had time for him and his brother said hi to him only through video calls more often than not, so the least the latter could do to make up for it was to spend as much time with him as possible during the off season. At least Yuri didn’t seem to resent him, if anything he seemed to admire him more and more, and the teenager had gotten used to having the kid following him around like a duckling when they were together. At only 17, figure skating genius Viktor Nikiforov felt like a surrogate parent.

Suddenly, a finger poked the whorl on Viktor’s hair. “You’re distracted!” Yuri protested.

Viktor hadn’t even noticed that Yuri had taken his seatbelt off and stood up on the seat. “Sorry, sorry. Now please sit back down, that’s dangerous.”

Yuri obeyed but narrowed his eyes as Viktor re-adjusted the seatbelt. “You get distracted a lot. And you often forget things. Are you getting old?”

Viktor gave him a half offended, half amused look. Nikolai snorted a laugh from the driver’s seat. “If Viktor is old where does that leave me? Ha! But do listen to your brother, having to keep my eyes on the road is enough responsibility.”

“Sorry~!” Yuri sang almost innocently. He dug into the paper bag he was holding and took out another bun before resuming his incessant chatter. He talked so fast that Viktor wondered whether he actually needed to breathe. “If you’re getting old does that mean you’ll retire soon? Can you coach me? Will I be just as good as you? Will I be better than you? Will I win a gold medal? Don’t answer, I bet I’ll win a gold medal soon! Just wait and see, I’ll win my own gold medal one day!”

Yuri’s enthusiasm was almost contagious. Viktor ruffled his hair, earning himself another noise of indignation. “Of course you will.”

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Some notes:

-I mentioned before that I couldn't find any official data on whether Nikolai is Yurio's maternal or paternal grandfather, but for this AU I'll assume the latter, so he and Viktor aren't related. -I almost deleted the whorl poking part, it's such a special thing between only Yuuri and Viktor that I felt like I was defiling something sacred lol. But then I thought that it'd be cute if Viktor's hair just had that effect on people. -At first I worried I had made Yurio too ooc but... he's 5 yrs old here, tbh most kids are the same at that age, just give him some time to develop his characteristic personality. Also I think it'd be both hilarious and tragic if he was a sweet adorable bby who loved his big bro before turning into an edgy teenager who hates everything ☠️

[mooooonnnzz]

Under the moonlight // Neteyam x gn!Omaticaya reader

💙 Neteyam is a sap and bathes you in his love

struggled with summary help 💀

708 words

it’s short but it’s sweet, so sweet that it im literally rotting as you read this

neteyam has a staring problem 

neteyam says “i love u” but in the sky ppl way

if that makes sense??? READ TO UNDERSTAND

neteyam is so sappy and in love aghh

Neteyam cupped your cheeks with his soft palms, his lips adorned with a blissful smile.  His eyes were locked onto yours, the fond look on his face made your knees weak. He looked at you with so much love it made your heart ache, you would have never thought that someone was ever capable of loving you. But you were proved wrong, here stood Neteyam, slowly swaying with you in the dimly lit forest, looking at you with all the love in the world. His golden eyes twinkled under the moonlight and you swore you felt like you fell in love with him all over again. A content sigh left your lips, heart fluttering with adoration for the person who stood right in front of you. How did you get so lucky? It was a question you asked yourself a lot. How did you manage to get such a respectful and caring boy? You frequently had to pinch yourself to prove to yourself that this wasn’t all an extremely well fabricated dream your brain had made up. “I could never get sick of looking at you.” He randomly confessed, voice so small and delicate, like he was afraid that if he spoke any louder you were to disappear from his sight. You laughed quietly, resting your palms against his hands. “I know that. You always stare at me too much.” You tease, another laugh escaping your lips. Neteyam had dramatically dropped his mouth open, a silent but well offended gasp could be heard from him.

 “Me? Staring too much? What…” Neteyam pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead then grabbed a hold of your hands, peppering each of your knuckles with a kiss of their own. “I don’t stare at you a lot.” He lied, cheekily smiling at you. His fingers fidgeting with yours. “You’re a terrible liar.” You affectionately roll your eyes at him. His smile and fidgety fingers gave it all away. He placed your hands against his chest, his hands finding their home on your hips. “I know.” He said, hiding his warm face in the crook of your neck. “I can’t help but stare at you.” He whined, his hot breath fanning your neck. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you felt his voice start at your neck and travel down to your spine. “Neteyam! I’m ticklish on my neck!” You screeched, grabbing a hold of your neck. He shifted his face closer to your neck. “What do you mean?” His lips brushed against your neck. A chill shook through you causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. “Neteyam!” You laughed, pulling his head away from your neck. “You know I don’t like that!” You slapped his chest. “But it makes you laugh.” He pouts, his thumbs rubbing circles on the sides of your hips. “You can make me laugh in different ways.” You tell him, delivering a playful punch to his chest.

A nice blanket of silence fell over you and Neteyam. The chirps of the occasional animals and the soft wind that rustled the leaves was all you can hear. Neteyam guides your head down to his shoulder, without questioning his action you rested your head on his shoulder. He began to sway with you and you never felt more at peace. The silence prolonged and your eyelids started to grow heavy. “My Dad taught me something new.” Neteyam said, his voice so soft you would’ve mistaken it for the wind. “What did he teach you?” You question. “How to say I see you in Sky People language.” He whispered directly in your ear. Your ear twitched, a shiver going down your spine. “What is it?” It went silent. “I love you.” The foreign words echoed in your ears. “I love you?” You slowly repeated, trying to get accustomed to the way your mouth shifted differently when you tried to pronounce it. You removed your head from Neteyam’s shoulder and looked at him. He looked at you, tilting his head curiously. “I love you.” You definitely butchered the pronunciation but the effort was there. Neteyam beamed at you, eyes crinkling up in joy. “I love you too.” He said, resting his forehead against yours, sighing out happily. 

if you wanna be in my taglist comment or dm me! <3 + my requests are open! 

Taglist: @writingsbybirdie @tzurue @lokisblueskin @slaypussypop-21​ 

[dovspeaksbeast]

[WHO'S THAT BEAST? WHO'S THAT BEAST?]

hello I am a werewolf on the internet and on the internet you can call me Dov . the name Dov means bear which I think is really funny because I am a wolf.

i am an adult male in my early 20s. i consider myself to be both human and beast at the same time. hence werewolf. being a werewolf feels like home. i use the term semi-loosely. I might call myself a wolf or a dog. or other beastly things. my experiences do not line up exactly with the stereotypical werewolf depiction. it is a word i think accurately describes me and my relationship to “humanity”. the word “alterhuman” works too. i don’t like labelling myself for the most part.

i’m a musician and music is pretty much my whole life but also i love any kind of art ever. I love nature and the woods and bones and dark lakes and that big ol’ moon. and the ocean and seashells and salt and deep blue. i have always had a deep affinity my entire life for anything surreal and the bizarre things that come out in the night and the strange world of dreams. sometimes I just post silly words. I like anything that can be described as “liminal”, which is also a word that describes me.

i am gay and cisgender . trans/nb/gnc folks are forever welcome with open arms and safe on this blog . i love u . queerness is the coolest thing ever

any nonhumans , therians, alterhumans, otherkin etc. are of course cherished and welcome here as well <3

my dms are always open and if you are respectful i am a very friendly beast that loves to bark and wag my tail and make new friends!!! :))))

asks are lovely too, I’ve just turned off anon asks. if you have nice things to say i wanna know who you are and i would love to chat and hang out and be friends . I promise im very silly. if you have mean things to say , at least say it to my face, person to person, and don’t hide behind anonymity like a coward.

pls come say hi!!!!

DNIs:

minors please don't interact. minors interacting with this blog makes me uncomfortable. this is a mostly sfw blog but i may post nsfw occasionally. also just a warning i am a werewolf and may occasionally post gory/unsavory things . 

homophobes fuck straight off. transphobes/TERFs fuck straight off. any queerphobes fuck straight off . you are not worth my time and energy.

my culture is a core part of who i am and if you are an antisemite i will block you. i will also block you if you don’t believe palestinians deserve to live as free and dignified lives as anyone else. 

should not even need to be said but i do not want pedos and zoos here. please. no s/h blogs PLEASE. 

if ppl are rude and annoying to me i will not engage with you i will just block you. 

anyways WELCOME TO MY SILLY WOLFY BLOG AROOOOOOO

(painting is "Glow" by Kim Dorland)

[schro4444]

It's a pity in japan they don't do trick or treat bc I can imagine they'd do something insane like, making a a giant booby trapped net around the house's perimeter that looks like spider webs and dropping down from above dressed as giant spiders when a trick-o-treater gets stuck in it, or something. But you know what Kaitou Kid was an *international* criminal so hey, who can say he didn't do a heist in America around Halloween? No one, that's who. Also bringing Chikage and Kaito with him everywhere bc he loves them and bc if he misses any of Kaito's milestones (magic and thieving included) he will DIE and bc the police would be looking for a guy travelling alone, not for a family of 3 with an actual child who couldn't possibly be an accomplice (jokes on them Kaito makes the BEST accomplice even if he doesn't exactly know what he's accomplicing)

Dyou think they purposefully got a house next to the Nakamoris and then left Kaito in his care once things got dangerous? BC Nakamori Toichi can say with 1000% certainty is squeaky clean and subtle as a punch to the face and LOUD so ppl would notice if he got dissappeared, or alternatively kick up HELL and rally the police if anything at all happened to Kaito?

THEY TOTALLY WOULD. AND THEY WOULD HAVE THE BEST HALLOWEEN DECOR, OMG…. all of the ways they could make it look like ghosts are making things float/tossing them around… playing recordings of them saying things in spooky voices… improbable jumpscares… honestly if they really wanted to go full smoke and mirrors they could just Have ghosts. it would be awesome.

YOURE SO RIGHT. there are many benefits to being an international thief >:D they’d totally do themed family costumes. also the idea of toichi bringing chikage and kaito everywhere with him has me breaking down, actually. kaito breaks open his first safe right after a heist in austria and toichi is so busy celebrating this with his wife and child that he gets completely skipped over as a suspect

omg… nakamori being ENTIRELY distracted by the fact that 5yo kaito has a new magic trick to show him RIGHT NOW and it’s REALLY IMPORTANT (toichi has stolen the jewel) and it has to be NOW because nakamori is always busy (toichi is halfway to the roof) but now that he’s HERE nakamori can finally watch the trick and he can see how cool magic is (toichi is back in plainclothes and is walking in to pick kaito up)

and as for the neighbor thing, HONESTLY I WOULDNT BE SURPRISED. clearly chikage trusts nakamori to look after her son, which is a huge compliment especially from a former thief—I feel like trust issues come with the job. all of the kurobas have/had a lot of faith in his morality, which says a lot about his (sometimes dubious) character that we don’t explicitly see in the story. I wonder how he proved himself to them so thoroughly?? maybe it was smth like he saved kaito from someone gunning for Kid really early on, back when actual danger during heists was rare, and thus he accidentally earned the undying respect of two phantom thieves, lol. plus I bet kaito came home after the clock tower meeting rambling about his new best friend aoko, and toichi and chikage were like. Well We Were in the Market For a New House Anyway…

[cyarskj1899]

You better Women’s March Deez nuts bxt*h 🤣🖕🏽😭 black folks ain’t doing nothing for you hews anymore even after four years

NAURRRRR. Black and Jewish women marched to the polls yesterday and showed tf out. 💅🏼 Everybody else fucked us over. Y’all got what you voted for. White and Latina women, you’re on your own. Leave us alone.

The amount of sistas telling her to kick all the rocks is HILARIOUS! You must’ve missed the memo. We’re done with this BS. You broke it(yet again) YOU fix it. My daughters and I are staying home and watching you all make complete fools of yourselves.

and When the recession hits, I'm going to buy so many foreclosed properties it will make your head spin

And Fuck Cinco de Mayo and Ocho Cinco! Fuck all the Cincos for that matter! It’s may the 5th as of today, MAY 5th! No thoughts and prayers for the soon to be deported just CONCEPTS OF THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS which is really none at all Latinos let be real so many of you are not good allies. Black people including Afro-Latinos have every right to be pissed off. 46% of you told us white adjacency and “the economy” mattered more than helping us keeping our rights. Can’t wait to sit back and watch the same 46% cry wolf when he start separating their families for being Latino or Hispanic. We tried to protect them, but they screamed “pick me pick me”. Your wannabe tan supremacy won’t save you🖕🏽Moving forward being called a “person of color” is a slur to me as a BlkPerson & I will respond accordingly!

Sisters, beware of those ones on the job going forward Do NOT trust them

I had half of mind to leave this twitter account but I decided not to because talking to all of you is how I'm going to get through the next 4 years. Assuming we're allowed to have a vote in 2028. That is if there’s a possibility

and no, I’m not marching in no protests or buying no shirts. This what yall wanted, timer set for 2028. 2026, midterms. Wonder if we can hold on to the House and get the Senate back in 2 years That is if there’s an election. Enjoy.

I’m not putting myself on the line for any causes for the next 4 years (or probably ever, no one listens to black ppl until it’s too late I’m sick of it). it is about to get real ugly for so many ppl, it’d be stupid to protest anything right now, no I’m not signing no petitions, no I’m not donating to no gofundme, no I’m not praying for you, no I’m not reposting shit about wtf y’all got going on fuck ya , If it ain’t a black woman or someone from the LGBTQIA+ community, I’m not batting an eye. Yall got it , It’s beyond clear. They don’t need or want our help. I’m not needed nor wanted. So I’m doing me and betting on (the non self hating) black! There will not be a second, third, or fourth, not even a FIF time. I'm done. Now as for the White people and Latin people who voted for Vice President Kamala Harris, thank you, I see you, I respect it... but y'all still have plenty of work to do when it comes to your community. Don’t give up on us. We need you as much as we ride on your races. We need you. we need you. Don’t give up the fight for change and democracy.

Texas , Louisiana , and Florida won’t get one prayer out of me next hurricane season either. Suffer you guys

My best day after advice: Go live your best life, stack your paper and don’t watch cable news during Trump 2.0. Starve the media and give his bad energy no attention.

[lindszeppelin]

I used to live in LA and I back up your friend saying paparazzi aren’t waiting for people, even in Malibu. I’ve literally never seen paparazzi but I’ve seen famous people. Like, REALLY famous people- who have been famous for decades and even in one instance was in the middle of a HUGE legal scandal. No paparazzi (and the legal scandal one was in 2019 so still very recent therefore regarding the same climate as how this stuff works now).

I don’t want to dislike Kaia (it doesn’t really feel good to dislike people, or at least it isn’t productive) but the more I realized the UK Daily Mail has been covering her or at least her family from birth, the more I realized she really isn’t anything special and just had PR this whole time. So many people still don’t know who or what a Kaia Gerber even is because not everyone loves fashion, we don’t live in a monoculture anymore where everyone is consuming the same content, and she’s hasn’t even done a lot in Hollywood besides being an obvious nepo baby by being so bad at acting and yet…she gets “caught” by the paps getting her damn green drinks and going to the gym? Make it make sense. That’s totally orchestrated. I can’t trust anything out of Kaia Gerber’s mouth once I put that all together. I know a lot of stars do this, but most actually have talent and we all know that she lol…doesn’t exactly have talent!

It’s all also a play from the Kris Jenner bible ( her and Cindy are friends…) by creating publicity and forcing relevance. Nothing is real or organic ( not even her social media…8 or 9 million last time I checked and yet most ppl I know in real life have never heard of her… #ThingsThatMakeYouGoHmmmm). Side note: has anyone ever investigated her social media stats on social blade (blaze?) or does nobody care enough about her to look into it?

When people wonder why Austin and Kaia are hiding…it’s because they can easily hide. Maybe Deux Moi spotting or fans on cell phones sometimes, but again, we’re not in a monoculture so not everyone knows who they are enough to care if they saw them (and I say this as an Austin fan who’s glad he’s getting his flowers; however he only recently made it in a major mainstream way and not everyone saw Elvis/are now learning more about him via MOTA and Dune. All due respect to him but he’s still being cemented into culture in real time and isn’t say, Matt Damon yet…but hey probably one day!). Also regarding both LA and New York, as your friend said, celebrities are around so we largely don’t care and do not take pics when we see them. It’s soooo easy to hide as a celebrity. It’s ridiculous when people act like the paps invade a celebrity’s privacy or that Austin (or anyone else for that matter) must be “hiding” and can’t be living a normal life. HA.

Final thought: even though I said Austin is just getting warmed up, let’s be real and admit he’s more respected than Kaia and likely more liked/known regarding household name recognition. And yet KAIA is papped more than her bf who was nominated for an Oscar?!? And people think that’s just an organic occurrence? 😂😂😂😂😂😂 People need to do some critical thinking and realize what’s happening here!

holy shit i love coming back home from dinner and seeing this beauty in my inbox

you said everything so flawlessly that we have been thinking and saying for a long time, and it's great that you put it in these terms. nothing is ever real or organic about kaia, and kaia with austin together. there are a lot of people her age with talent that i can respect, but she has zero talent and only gets what she does through her parents and by dating austin. it's simple as that. her dating austin was just another PR maneuver to keep her relevant.

[masculinepeacock]

new pinned post!

bc apparently i do need notices on my blog lmao

name: hollis

pronouns: guess

age: 23

what i post: my own dnd characters, home dnd games, d20 (sometimes), insane gay shit, sappy emos

notices

i don’t have a dni bc i don’t trust ppl to like. respect it and also. ppl can do whatever they want forever. but that means so can i. get blocked.

if you reblog clearly personal posts you will get blocked

terfs automatically get blocked. suck my dick.

people who don’t interact with things in good faith/people who are determined to have bad faith in everything are more likely to get blocked. depends on how i’m feeling that day.

I understand if some people don’t read this. But then don’t get upset if you get blocked.

[kickthecan-revolution]

When I let go of Elaine, I knew it was because I’d gone as far as I could go with her. I needed a different kind of spiritual tap that she for me, didn’t offer. Through a number of circumstances, I’ve decided to hire an intuitive coach- so many things point toward it being the right decision. I’m a little afraid but mostly focused on trusting my intuition and staying open.

Amanda (my vet’s technician) met me at the spot where I found the cats, along with the other foster. I brought the ppl living there a bunch of food and water. Both cats came out immediately and let us touch them, a good sign. They are older compared to their sister, definitely from a first litter. About 6 months. We got the girl - they named her Minnie (!!!)- who Amanda took with her. Ben (the husband of Teresa who live in the encampment and are the technical owners of the cat) was resistant in us taking the brother, they want to keep at least one, but did agree to let us get him neutered and the mom, spayed. My first reaction was “fuck that just take them” but I was struck with the respect Amanda had for them. Homeless people often take incredible care for their pets, so I realized how judgmental I was being. I still think I can get them to change their mind (with money) but I’m going to follow Amanda’s lead, she has a ton of experience with the homeless and their pets and said the boy looks really good. That he may not have a long life, but he’ll have a good life there if they say to bring him back. So I’ve made my peace with that. I’m working from home this week but will go early and trap him, then bring him up North to where the vet is.

Peach is the sweetest. My nickname for her is Muscles because she’s little, but strong. Keeping her might mean I put Bud in danger of activating her feline leukemia so I’m going to send her to Liz, the foster this week to keep socializing her and she’s bonded to me but is still young enough to bond to other humans and that increases her chances of adoption. I never thought to have three cats, and if I did, my third would be an orange cat. But I’ve asked for a specific sign and if it arrives, I’ll keep her. If not, she’s find another place I feel peaceful about all of it now.

In work news, the launch went well, it was the best training stores had received in years and I don’t really care about any of it. Which is just more validation that I’m moving on.

[superfluouskeys]

wip whenever (s'unfinished sunday ♥)

thank you so much to @myreia AND @thevikingwoman for the tags!!

I haven't written anything that wasn't for school/work in awhile and unfortunately I'm still on the verge of burned out so it will prob be a bit. so here is more original thing from the nano times! it is once again a long segment (4.8k words LOL) bc i very much want to inflict it on ppl. part one is here

i'm doing the cop-out and saying i'm tagging anyone who wants to share!! but frfr! do it and tag me! merry crisis-eve everyone!!

slight general content warning, but i think part 1 sets the tone

--

Blissfully, a hard knock at the door comes to her rescue, and she promptly excuses herself from any further discussion on the matter of her many failings.

“Tamsin, I’m so glad I caught you!”  It is Penelope at the door, who always seems to know what’s going on with everyone in Godsplace.  Penelope has a round, pleasant face like that of Mrs. Burkow, and although she is not of noble birth, she has a similar freckled complexion and strawberry blonde hair, done up in a proper, fashionable style.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Tamsin wonders, smiling fondly.  She imagines she’d have been relieved to see just about anyone right now, but Penelope holds a special place in her heart.  Penelope is the kind of person who can change the whole mood of a room just by walking into it.

Penelope takes her by the hands, positively trembling with excitement.  “You’ll never believe it—there’s a Keeper in town!”

“A Keeper,” Tamsin echoes slowly.  The term is familiar, but it’s not the sort of thing one hears every day.  “Not a Memory-keeper?”

“Just so!” Penelope shakes her hands, and is already halfway to tugging her out the door.  “Someone just spotted her going into the tavern—oh, I wonder if she’ll stay the night?  Come on, we’ve got to—“

“Tamsin?”

Mrs. Burkow doesn’t like Penelope.  Which makes her just about the only one, by Tamsin’s estimation.

“Oh.  Hello, Penelope,” Mrs. Burkow smiles thinly.  “What’s this I hear about a Memory-keeper?”

Penelope tenses her shoulders a little.  She is acutely attuned to other people, their moods and peculiarities, which is one of the reasons Tamsin likes her so much.

“Yes, ma’am,” says Penelope, with a small nod of respect.  “May I please steal Tamsin away from you, just for a little while?  Why, the last time a Memory-keeper came to Godsplace must have been…”

“I’m afraid not, Penelope,” says Mrs. Burkow, wielding the brunt of her kindly features with a note of sorrow in her warm voice.  “Tamsin has just come home, after all, and here it’s almost time for supper.  Lots to do for the big day, you know!”

“Oh, of course!  Of course, well,” Penelope has not quite let go of Tamsin’s hands.  She is still trying, and Tamsin loves her for that.  “Well, maybe just a quick peek?  The tavern’s not far, and we’ll come right back, and I’ll even—“

“Penelope,” Mrs. Burkow cuts her off with a note of motherly disapproval.  “Don’t you have something better to do than going to that dreadful tavern to gawk at some…person we know nothing about?”

Penelope falters under Mrs. Burkow’s steadfast disapproval.  She knows it is unwise to speak too fondly of a Memory-keeper, particularly when someone has just cast doubt upon the woman’s scruples.  As far as the people of Godsplace are concerned, there’s only so much difference between a Memory-keeper who deserves respect and a common witch who deserves to burn.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right, Mrs. Burkow,” says Penelope with a sigh.  She squeezes Tamsin’s hands in a silent apology before she lets go.  “You know me,” she continues with a self-effacing shrug, “I can’t help getting all excited when something new happens.  Sorry to disturb you both.”

Tamsin watches her go, feeling just shy of hopeless.  On the one hand, her mother is probably right.  With the way things are in Godsplace, it’s probably better not to go within a stone’s toss of anything magical.  On the other hand, she’s never seen a real Memory-keeper before.  Stories paint them as wizened old crones, backs bent low from an impossibly long life, but the last time a Memory-keeper came to Godsplace was long before Tamsin or Penelope were alive.

As she closes the front door, Tamsin wonders with a twinge of annoyance if Bryce knew about this and didn’t tell her, if this was the source of his strange comment about her being careful.  It makes more sense than anything else she can think of.  She suppresses a sigh and sets about preparing dinner.  It’s unlikely she’ll see him before the wedding, and she’d very much like to give him a piece of her mind.

“Have you ever seen one?” Tamsin wonders cautiously as she chops vegetables.

Mrs. Burkow perches herself at the table to continue her knitting while Tamsin cooks.  “What, a Memory-keeper?”

“Mhm.”

“Goodness, no.  And why would I want to?”

“I don’t know,” says Tamsin, as casually as she can manage.  “It’s just interesting, is all.”

Mrs. Burkow scoffs.  “It’s only interesting because you think you’ve never seen it before.  But that business in the Square you hate so much?  It’s the same thing.  No sense in putting some old bat on a pedestal just because, what?”  She chuckles derisively.  “She got a fancy education in witchcraft?  The whole thing is ridiculous, and I expect anyone with more brains than young Penelope won’t be shy in telling this ‘Keeper’ exactly that.”

 Tamsin knows better than to argue.  Still, the idea sits uncomfortably at the back of her mind while she cooks.  Memory-keepers are women who wield magic, and they’re supposed to have a special place in society wherever they roam.  Tamsin has heard that in some places it’s a punishable crime to deny basic aid to a Keeper.  If she asks for a bed to sleep in or something to eat or a sip of water, one is expected to give it to her.

Most places, though, don’t need laws to enforce such things, at least as far as Tamsin has heard.  The fear of magic is more than enough to elicit compliance.

It’s something Tamsin has thought in passing, and something her mother has just explicitly said—that a Keeper’s magic is the same as what makes the people of Godsplace gather in the Square to put overgrown children to the flame.  Maybe Tamsin wanted to go and see so that she could know whether it’s different or not, as though a person could know just by looking.  What makes this Keeper so very different from the little girl in the Square?

Tamsin stokes the fire and watches the water boil in silence.  She imagines Mrs. Burkow would be happy if she brought up the wedding, but the idea turns her stomach.  Particularly now, when she’s angry with Bryce just in case he’s lied to her.  Anyway, what is there to say?  She’ll go over to the Davensay estate to get ready, they’ll go and have the ceremony, and then it will be over and done with.

Mrs. Burkow will probably try to sell this little house.  Tamsin wonders if she’ll start trying to dress the way the older noble ladies do, with heavy skirts and extravagant furs.  It would suit Mrs. Burkow, in a way.

Tamsin serves them both a hefty portion of stew, her mind still on magic and burning and lingering screams.  When Mrs. Burkow stifles a yawn, Tamsin wonders if perhaps she can sneak out.  She’s got a lot to attend to, after all, and there’s no telling whether she’ll be too late by tomorrow.  The Memory-keeper may be run out of town by then, and Bryce will be busy doing gods-know-what all day.  If she’s smart about it, perhaps she can catch a glimpse of the Keeper and make her way over to Bryce’s to demand an explanation.

It would be better if she could engage in conversation, but she just can’t bring herself to do it.  This is exactly why she’ll make such a poor noblewoman.  How is she supposed to make small talk when there’s only one thing she could possibly want to talk about?

“Goodness me, but it’s been a long day,” says Mrs. Burkow with another yawn.  “I hope you won’t mind if I leave you with the dishes?”

“Of course not,” says Tamsin.  Mrs. Burkow always leaves her with the dishes.  Mrs. Burkow always leaves her with everything.  Then, because it is the only ingratiating thing she can bring herself to say, she amends, “Honestly, I like doing them.”

“Ah, there’s our Tamsin,” Mrs. Burkow drawls happily.  She stands with a stretch and collects her knitting.  “Enjoy it while it lasts, then.  Soon you won’t have to trouble yourself with such things any longer.”

Tamsin scoffs.  She collects the bowls.  “You really think I won’t have to do my own dishes?”

“Of course not!” says Mrs. Burkow, delighted to have landed at last upon her favorite subject.  “You’ll have maids and servants and whatnot to attend to all that.”

“And what will I do?” Tamsin wonders genuinely.

“Why, relax and enjoy yourself, Tamsin!  What else?”  Mrs. Burkow yawns again.  “Oh, my, but it has been a long day.  You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” says Tamsin, as plainly as she can manage.  “Get some rest.”

“See that you get some rest, yourself!” Mrs. Burkow points at her.  “It won’t do to have you looking all worn out on your big day!”

Tamsin forces a shadow of a smile.  “I’ll try,” she says.

She cleans the kitchen quietly and with care, and listens for signs that Mrs. Burkow has fallen asleep.  For a mercy, she is a heavy sleeper, and won’t likely rouse so long as Tamsin is careful.

Tamsin slips on her shoes and her coat, and waits in perfect silence at the front door for several more minutes before she dares to turn the handle.  The house answers her with an easy silence, and so she sets forth with a short-lived sense of victory.

Her confidence falters as soon as she closes the door behind her, and she is shrouded in darkness.  She wishes she could have gone to the tavern when it was still light out, and with Penelope for company.  Now that she thinks about it, it’s mostly men who go there, usually much older, plus the odd traveler in need of a room.

And anyway, she doesn’t even know if the Keeper will still be there.  It’s been hours since Penelope came by, and the way things are going, the tavern-keeper could easily have thrown her out on lofty accusations of witchcraft.  Indeed, Tamsin coming around asking about her could be viewed with great suspicion, particularly if whatever happened earlier didn’t go over well.

Just like her mother said, she doesn’t know anything about this woman.  She barely knows anything about the Memory-keepers in general.

Not so long ago, she’d have gone over to Bryce’s and he’d have joined her.  But she doesn’t know whether he knew already and chose to keep the information from her, and if that is the case, she doesn’t know what it means.  Is it just because they’re on such uncertain terms now?  Or is this the way it’s always going to be, now that she’s to be his wife?

“Hey, Tamsin.”

Tamsin is so lost in her thoughts that she startles at the sound.  The streets are mostly dark but for a few lights in windows, and the dim glow from a lantern hung over Teddy Page’s small, open barn.  Teddy himself is cast in shadow against the doorframe, leaning back with arms crossed.

“What are you doing out here?” she asks him.

Teddy Page is a quiet sort, somewhat nondescript in looks, and Tamsin doesn’t know much about him.  She knows that his family lost their animals in the last Season of Frost, and since then they’ve gotten by selling excess feed and cut grass, which is all the small barn now holds.  She has heard other rumors about Teddy and his family, but she doesn’t put much stock in such things.  There are plenty of rumors about her, too.

“Same as you, I guess,” he says.

“You heard about the Memory-keeper at the tavern?” Tamsin wonders skeptically.  Little as she knows about Teddy, she’d have guessed he held an opinion similar to Mrs. Burkow’s.

“Oh, is that it, then?” Teddy drawls, in a tone that makes Tamsin’s skin crawl.  She wishes she hadn’t said anything.

“Don’t tell me you’re not the slightest bit curious,” Tamsin tries.

“Your new husband know you’re out at night?” Teddy wonders sourly.

Tamsin averts her gaze.  “He’s not my husband yet.  And anyway, it’s none of his business where I go.”

Teddy chuckles mirthlessly.  He moves from leaning on the doorframe to standing upright.  “He’s in for a nasty surprise.  You’d think a girl like you would be a little more grateful.”

Although the words set her nerves on edge, she tries to laugh it off.  “You sound just like my mother.”

“Your mother has a good point, then,” says Teddy.  He approaches, his shadow slowly eclipsing the dim glow from his lantern.  “Come on, what’s a girl like you doing going to the tavern at this hour?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, a girl like me?” Tamsin asks him, but she is trying with all her might not to retreat from him on pure instinct.

“Nice, respectable girl,” says Teddy.  “Girl with a future.  Girl who doesn’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

Teddy is standing too close now, close enough that she can see the vague outline of his features even in near-darkness, but Tamsin is too proud to take a step back.  “The wrong idea about what?” she asks, and hears her own voice tremble.

Teddy grabs her by the arm.  It’s not a rough grip, but his hand is large and strong, and Tamsin almost flinches.

“About what she’s there for,” he says darkly.

Tamsin tries to swallow, but her throat has gone dry.  “I don’t understand,” she says.  “What do you mean?” 

Part of her is screaming that she should run.  She doesn’t even know where.  It hardly matters.  Just away.  But the sensible part of her is telling her that she knows Teddy, even if she doesn’t know much about him.  Surely there is simply something she is failing to understand.

Teddy lets out a soft huff of air.  He is so close now that Tamsin can feel his breath on her face.  Revulsion courses through her, and she tries at last to free herself from his grip.  It doesn’t even seem to faze him.  He grabs onto her other arm, and she is trapped.

“You really don’t know?” he wonders.  He is too close, too close, and still getting closer.  “I can show you.”

“Teddy, what are you doing?” Tamsin squirms, and his wet, open-mouthed kiss lands somewhere around the line of her jaw.  It is a sickening sensation, and so shocking that Tamsin stops struggling.  “What are you—?” she asks again, but panic runs like ice through her veins, and she’s not sure she can even trust her legs to hold her anymore.

This whole thing was a mistake.  Perhaps the worst mistake Tamsin has ever made.  Bryce was right.  Her mother was right.  Even Teddy himself was right.  What does Tamsin care for some strange old woman in a tavern?  Tamsin should only be so lucky as to marry someone kind and decent, should only be so lucky as to have a home with a mother who looks out for her.  Tamsin is a nothing, a nobody.  She has no family name, no past, and without her mother’s perseverance and Bryce’s kindness, she would have no future.

“Teddy, stop, enough,” Tamsin murmurs, but her arms and legs have gone numb, and she can barely bring herself to move.

Teddy is kissing her neck in that same wet, uncomfortable manner, and she thinks he is saying something, too, but her head is spinning, and she thinks she’ll be sick.  She can’t see anything, and she has no idea what to do.  Could she scream if she tried?  Would it make any difference?  In the back of her mind, she still hears the high, thin scream of the little girl in the Square as the flames met her skin.  That little girl will never stop screaming, and it doesn’t make any difference at all.

Apropos of nothing, Tamsin starts to feel angry again.  Will she be put to the flame now, too, if the truth comes out?  Bryce is already marrying well below his station.  A nameless peasant girl without even her virtue is surely a step too far, even for him.  Even if it’s her.

It doesn’t make any sense, but Tamsin can’t help but wonder if this was that little girl’s crime—not actual witchcraft, but the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, such that a man she’d previously thought very little about had suddenly decided he could resist her wicked wiles no longer.

Did Bryce know?  Another thought that makes no sense, and yet Bryce was so cagey earlier that Tamsin cannot shake the certainty that there is something he wasn’t telling her.  Did Bryce know why the girl was burned?  Is that why he warned Tamsin to be careful, practically begged her to come to him if she needed anything?

She is so furious with Bryce that she momentarily forgets the precariousness of her circumstances.  “Enough!” she cries, in a voice barely her own, and with inhuman strength throws the hulking Teddy off of her and onto the straw-covered floor of his barn.

Teddy is staring up at her, now fully illuminated by the lantern, pure loathing etched into his unremarkable features.  Reality crashes back into her, and she nearly staggers from the force of the impact.

“You little—“ he starts to stagger to his feet.

There is a…sound.  Like a whistle of wind, barely even perceptible.  Except that Teddy stops speaking abruptly, as though the air were rent from his lungs.  Then, it’s like something is constricting him, like an invisible rope wraps itself around his body and pulls, tighter and tighter, until he is gasping for breath, and his feet aren’t quite touching the floor.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you, wouldn’t you say?”

An unfamiliar voice, sharp and commanding, comes from just over Tamsin’s shoulder, and Tamsin whirls around to face its owner.  The stranger is barely illuminated by Teddy’s lantern, and the hood of her cloak obscures the precise shape of her face.  But her eyes are…glowing, almost, as though they were their own source of light.

To Tamsin, she is an angel and a savior.

But the cloaked woman ignores her, strange, glowing gaze fixed upon Teddy, who is now fully suspended in midair.

“Disgraceful behavior from a young man,” says the woman.  As she approaches Teddy, Tamsin notices that she is holding her hands at her waist in a very peculiar manner.  It’s like she is controlling something, like the invisible rope that constrains Teddy is coming from her.

“Tell me.  Isn’t it a crime in this Gods place to force oneself upon a young lady?”  She speaks the name, Godsplace, like it is two separate words, and with such derision that it sounds like bitter sarcasm, the same way some people will mutter Gods-forsaken-place, or Place-the-gods-forgot.

Teddy sputters a disjointed reply, which contains the phrase “—asking for it.”

“Really?” the cloaked woman wonders, as though genuinely considering this.  “Because, you know, I was just passing by, and I’m sure I heard the lady tell you to stop.”

To punctuate her judgment, the woman…flicks her hands forward, and in doing so, throws Teddy hard against the wall of the barn.  He lands in a sputtering heap, just as enraged as before, but now at a distinct disadvantage. 

“Foul, cursed witch,” he blusters.  “What’ll you do, turn me in?  You can’t hurt me.”

“Can’t?” the woman repeats, again like she is considering this proposition seriously.  “Hmm.  No, you must be mistaken.  It’s not that I can’t hurt you, not at all.”  She looms over him now, like some kind of ancient hero just before he strikes the killing blow.  “More precisely, I have sworn not to harm the likes of you.  But vows can be broken, you see.  And so I suppose it depends upon whether you believe my word means anything to me.”

This seems to strike genuine terror into Teddy.  Tamsin would never admit it out loud, but it is somewhat gratifying to witness.

“You can’t!” he stammers, petulant.  “You can’t do anything to me!”  And then, so quiet Tamsin thinks she imagines it, he amends, “Please.”

“Oh,” the woman drawls, “now we’re getting somewhere.  I suggest you run along, and quickly.  I won’t ask twice.”

Teddy does not take long to weigh his options.  He scrambles to his feet and staggers through the barn, knocking Tamsin to the ground with the full weight of his body as he goes.  “You’ll pay for this,” he snarls, but he does not stop moving.  He runs clumsily all the way back to the front door of his house, slamming it behind him without a care for the lateness of the hour.

The cloaked woman approaches, and offers her a hand.  “Are you all right?” she asks.

Tamsin is stricken by the stark difference in her tone.  Although there is still a certain sharpness to the way she speaks, all the coldness, all the malice is gone.  She takes the woman’s hand, and the woman easily pulls her to her feet.

“Fine,” Tamsin stammers belatedly.  “I’m fine.  Thank you.  Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

“I pray you forgive me my lateness,” says the woman with a small bow of her head.  “I would have intervened a moment sooner, but your casting caught me off my guard.”

“Casting?” Tamsin echoes blankly.

The woman’s head inclines by a fraction, a quick, minuscule motion.  “When you pushed the boy away.  Did you not see it?  Feel it, perhaps?”

Tamsin shivers involuntarily.  “All I felt was angry.”

The woman nods slowly.  “Of course,” she says curtly.  “No matter.  Shall I walk you home?  There’s something I must discuss with you.”

“With me?”  Tamsin’s mind reels.

The woman nods again.  “You’ll need training, of course.”

“Training?”

“For the magic.”

For a moment, Tamsin thinks she really must be dreaming, or else she’s surely about to faint.  Nothing about this moment feels remotely real, or even possible.  “Magic?”

“As I just mentioned, before, when you pushed the boy away?” the woman clarifies patiently.

“But—“ Tamsin flounders.  “That can’t be possible.  I can’t.  I couldn’t—“

“Oh, but you can,” says the woman.  It is a kind statement.  Her severe expression softens into a subtle smile.  “I’ve just seen it.”

When Tamsin doesn’t respond, the woman’s smile disappears, and she gestures that Tamsin should lead the way out.  “But you cannot stay here,” she continues.  “Not with the Gift.  You know perfectly well what happens to young ladies who try to hide their talents.  You bore witness just this afternoon.”

“The girl in the Square,” Tamsin murmurs, without entirely meaning to speak.  She looks up.  “Was she really—?  I mean, were you there?  Could you…I don’t know, tell?”

She has accepted, because she wants to, and because there is no other reasonable explanation, that this woman is the Memory-keeper Penelope spoke of.  She still cannot quite fathom why this legendary figure would have any interest in talking with a nameless peasant girl, and so she thinks that she ought to ask every question she can think of while she has the chance.

“I saw…traces,” says the woman.  “It’s difficult to tell with certainty, however.  Many who possess the Gift never even know it.”

“Never know it?” Tamsin echoes.  “How could that be?”

The woman hums thoughtfully.  “How shall I put this?  The Gift manifests itself on…a spectrum, shall we say?  Some are so weak in the Gift that none would ever notice, while some are so strong that they couldn’t possibly deny it.  And of course the vast majority are not magical at all.”

Tamsin considers this.  This seems somehow more acceptable to her.  “So…you think I am…I mean, that I do have the Gift?  But if it’s only a little bit, then maybe—“

“Oh, do not mistake me, uh—“  The woman stops short.  “Forgive me, I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”

“Tamsin.  And…yours?  If I may ask.”

As though directly counter to Tamsin’s lackluster introduction, the cloaked woman brings a hand to her heart and offers a regal curtsey.  “I am Althea Blackthorne,” she says.  “Althea, if you please.  Keeper Althea, if you’re inclined toward formality.”

Tamsin takes in a shuddering breath.  “You really are a Memory-keeper,” she murmurs.

Again Althea’s severe features soften into a smile.  Tamsin only now notices that her eyes are a shade of grayish-blue, striking but decidedly ordinary, and no longer glowing.  Although her smile wrinkles her eyes faintly, she is far from a wizened old crone.  Indeed, Tamsin thinks Althea can’t even be as old as Mrs. Burkow.

Althea inclines her head toward the road.  “Shall we keep going?  There’s much I have to tell you, and very little time to prepare.”

Tamsin nods mutely and turns to lead the way back home.  Although, now that she thinks of it, she doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’s going to do when she gets there.  Wake up Mrs. Burkow to tell her that not only did Tamsin sneak out of the house, but she’s brought back the very Memory-keeper Mrs. Burkow would call a common witch?

“Right, as I was saying,” Althea continues, “while some people are so weak in the Gift that no one would ever take any notice, such is decidedly not the case for you, Tamsin.”

Tamsin almost trips over her own feet.  She can feel her heart hammering in her chest.  It’s simply not possible.

But Althea keeps talking, either ignorant or indifferent to Tamsin’s internal turmoil.  “And while it is true that someone weaker in the Gift might never discover her talent, even she could not deny it once it made itself known to her.  The Gift wants to be used, you see.”

Althea makes a sweeping gesture toward Tamsin.  There is something particular about the way she holds her hands, even when she is only talking.  Like she could reach out and pluck at the threads of the universe with little more than a thought.

“Magic is not merely contained within the Gifted,” says Althea, gesturing toward Tamsin.  “Magic is in you, but it is also all around you.  You are a source, but you are also a conduit.”

Tamsin averts her gaze.  She wraps her arms about herself.  “You’ll understand if this is still a bit…hard to believe.”

Althea hums.  “Yes, I suppose it would be.  You said you didn’t…see anything?”

Tamsin thinks back.  Although she hardly noticed anything before Althea’s intervention, she imagines she will remember that for the rest of her days.  “It looked like…like Teddy was being held by an invisible rope.  And I saw the way your hands looked, so I could guess you were controlling it.  But that’s all I saw.”  Then, ashamed, she amends, “I’m sorry.”

“No need for an apology,” Althea shakes her head.  “It’s not unusual.  I expect you’ll meet many sisters who struggled to see the Gift at first.”

“Sisters?” Tamsin echoes.

“At the Academy,” Althea clarifies.  “It’s not so much a familial term as it is a term of respect.  All the Forgotten will be your fellow sisters.”

This, like Memory-keeper, is a term Tamsin recognizes only vaguely.  When Keepers first enter into training, they must cast off all their worldly bonds, foreswear home and family, friends and loved ones, and their loved ones are supposed to do the same.  They become Forgotten.

Althea glances toward Tamsin, and tries to interpret her uneasy silence.  “Perhaps the terms sound harsh to you, but in practice it’s not nearly so dire.  You’ll be quite busy during your training, and you may freely reconnect with your family once it’s complete.”

Contrary to Althea’s perception, Tamsin is still trying to wrap her head around the very idea that she could possess any kind of Gift.  What does she care for the idea of becoming Forgotten?  She is a nothing, a nobody.  Who would even bother to remember her?

They’re getting close to Tamsin’s home, but Tamsin is no closer to a solution on how to proceed.  “My mother won’t be happy to see you,” she says, for lack of any better way to start.  “That’s…a bit of an understatement, actually.”

To her surprise, Althea laughs.  It is a gentle sound, and unexpectedly warm.  “Yes, I’ve been getting that reaction quite a lot today.”

Tamsin lingers uncertainly.  “She won’t want me to go.”

“Of course not,” says Althea.  “But staying isn’t an option.  Surely you see that?”

Tamsin opens her mouth, but words catch in the back of her throat.  This has to be the moment she wakes up, right?  She sat down for a moment when she was finished cleaning the kitchen, and she fell asleep.  And now she’ll wake up, gasping for breath and with a dreadful pain in her neck, and this whole thing will be one strange, vivid, terrible, wonderful dream.

[trickstarbrave]

A big academic issue I see ppl have that they don’t know they have and causes them a lot of problems is: you have to see value in things you don’t agree with.

Like. The one example I saw recently was someone complaining their professors all must have an agenda bc they’re all taking about Marx and praising his work. Marxism is an excellent analytical framework to critique concepts and ideas. It’s used in many different fields of study bc it is very useful and broad. Most college professors are not themselves communists or marxists. They don’t want you to take his word as gospel. They are not asking you to BELIEVE in Marx. What they are doing is teaching you how to understand different perspectives and see things in a new light.

Your personal beliefs usually matter very little in academia. No one should attack you based on them, but outside of ethics and a fundamental respect for others as human beings, no one gives a shit what you go home at the end of the day believing so long as you have an open mind and explore ideas in full.

In things like debate you don’t normally get to pick the position on a topic. It is usually picked for you and then you’re both given equal time to prepare your arguments. Because debate is not about your personal beliefs or who is right or wrong but testing the strength of a position and learning how to argue your points effectively as well as counter people on the other side.

“Well why should I do that, why should I care about things I don’t believe in 💀” because your perspective is inherently limited. You cannot come close to understanding a topic if you cannot explore all aspects of it. Many things in the human body of knowledge are built upon assumptions, especially with theses that are a lot more difficult to concretely prove (think like literary analysis, anthropology, sociology, linguistics, many subjects actually besides like. I think mathematics and physics potentially). This is because humans are flawed people with flawed perspectives and flawed belief systems. Humans act illogically and irrationally.

When you understand a wide variety of perspectives, you understand a subject more, and can also better understand your own thoughts and beliefs about it. Considering other ideas and seeing the strengths in positions you don’t agree with does not harm you in any way. In fact the better you understand a position you don’t agree with the better you can argue against it.

[possibilistfanfiction]

I am very, very attached to ava "gender? *shrug emoji*" silva because it's so rare I see that approach and, self indulgently, it's me. I've got trans friends and nb friends and the whole pronoun thing makes sense to them in a way I'm almost jealous of? Does that make any sense? They know themselves enough to know they were a square peg on a round hole...no double entendre intended...and I'm sat here going "well using my birth pronouns doesn't hurt me so I'll roll with that", and it feels weird somehow? Because it's not bad and it's not uncomfortable but I know it would only be the newness factor and the extra steps correcting people that mean I wouldn't be just as comfortable going by a different one?

And then I feel all twisted because I work in a decent job with an actual commitment to supporting LGBTQ+ people, but I'm still puzzling out the pronouns and I don't want to put them into my email signature then change, or have them hang about after I potentially have a revelation. But I don't want people to think I'm opposed to them either.

I don't know, don't feel obligated to weigh in, I just figure I could ping this at you without judgement at least. It's hard to state it out loud sometimes.

lemme tell you. pronouns (especially in english) as a stand in for gender is a) v recent; b) so neoliberal & western, & rly wayyyy more of an issue in the global north. ppl prioritizing pronouns as Respectful™️ toward trans folks is all fine & good (it’s easy), but the neoliberal rhetoric around trans existence as like… rooted in western language, western terms, western experiences… fucking infuriating. i hate pronouns. i hate the expectation of them. i hate a “dead” name — i was never not who i am, i will always be who i am; i have a name i was given & a name i chose & they’re not desperate selves. the pathologization of transness is disgusting & not at all decolonized; the expectation that u have to feel at deep odds w your body, at deep odds w ur pronouns, ur name, etc, is a western reaction to a western problem. all over the world, for literally all of history, gender expansive folks have existed without the expectation of Being Trans, without definitions & boxes. i despise the expectation that i have to feel hatred or profound anxiety about myself or my body to access care, or to have a name i chose — i think care should be about what makes you feel best, & that’s it. the state control thru the medical industrial complex of gender & care & belonging is insane. so i always just ask, what’s the best choice? what makes me feel comfortable & at ease? what do i Want? those are the only questions that matter to me at this point. if those answers are rly rooted in pronouns & a name etc, then that’s obvs fine! but i think so often we get caught up in HAVING to have those things to be able to answer those questions. & to me the answers to those questions are found in the texture & fit of fabrics, & my home, & really good food, & my community. not once have i found them in a they/them pronoun

so anyway yes i hear you. i don’t think u should feel jealous of ur friends bc ur experience is so real & expansive & that’s also wonderful.

& for ava yah it’s honestly pissed me off for a while that ppl have just thrown this inaccurate & weird & western agenda on her gender. like when i say she doesn’t care, she’s happy w her body, she loves curiosity & hates boxes & labels — it’s tru. it’s not more than that, it’s not “non-binary”. there’s no binary to begin with!! there never has been!

[yakultii]

I kid you not I was just sitting in the uni library and before getting up to give up for the day and leave I wrote in my notes app kinda jokingly but kinda not:

“maybe western beliefs are just so wrong maybe no amount of doctor can fix me maybe I am simply cursed lol for I have sinned many times and seek no forgiveness - a new level of insanity or clarity” (Ik my notes are full of weird shit.. I was also studying medical dominance and how westerners have made it seemingly superior to other forms of health practices/understandings such as religious sin etc for context)

AND I WALK OUT OF THE LIBRARY, START WALKING HOME WITH MY SAD MUSIC ON REPEAT, ON THE VERGE OF TEARS FOR NO REASON(bc life rough but im fine), ON THE EDGE OF CAMPUS AND AM FULLY FINDING MYSELF WILLINGLY BEING PREACHED TO BY A CULT about the heavenly mother oh my god they’re getting smarter LIKE SM SMARTER cause I almost believed this was just a hella feminist Christian for a solid 10 minutes help im out of practice I haven’t been approached by a cult member in like 6 months cos I rarely leave the house ANYWAYS luckily for me I have an unhealthy special interest? in the researching of cults and every single step of their indoctrination particularly the correlation of various korean cults indoctrinating australian white women (when I say cults I don’t just mean religious organisation, cos while there is valid argument that all religion could TECHNICALLY be cult-like, I need u to know I respect religion for others and what it is and am aware there are some prominent factors which differentiate normal religious organisation from genuine proper cult) luckily this particular cult wasn’t going to take me to meet its rapist leader in korea like most the other in melb but it does isolate u from ppl u know and force u to “donate” all ur money lmao fail bc im already socially isolated and I have no money LOLOOL anyways usually they ask for ur number but they also have half given up when u tell them u used to be religious and ur not anymore bc ur critical but this time they just gave me their number cos I think they thought I was like fully convinced cos I was stupidly engaging in the discourse with half interest (but only bc I was trying to make sense if what they were telling me was accurate or not from a religious standpoint bc I was raised Catholic) but sneakily she was telling me all about the Hebrew bible and shit with examples of Hebrew text I couldn’t read LOLOL and what I rlly should have said is god is not my mother or father bitch my (ex) god ain’t male or female, my god if existent be a genderless non human spirit referred to as “he” bc we live in a patriarchal society where male pronouns are pretty standard in referring to just about anything in English language ANYWAYS I lowkey love engaging w cult members while some ppl say dangerous I usually detach my interest while talking as further research into their communicative ways but today I was caught so off guard bc at my particular uni there are usually just religious preachers sometimes who have no ill intent and see my gay stickers on my laptop and give up before they even start knowing they are gonna fail but these ppl defs didn’t go to my uni they were just waiting on the outskirts for sad uni students to approach LMAO mission accomplished also they told me im a good listener when I was like zoning out bc I said yes yes yes when they asked me if I was aware of particular religions events and terms lol that was not very convincing bc I was not demonstrating good listening at all ANYWAYS this was a pointless and probably an incomprehensible story that I cbf reading over hope u enjoyed stay safe don’t go getting indoctrinated into a cult

[coquettedragoon]

Just want to thank you for inspiring me to want to create more this year. It's inspiring seeing someone unapologetically putting their stuff out, and it makes me want to harness that same confidence. How did you get that level of not giving a fuck? It's something I find myself grappling with here and there (despite my taste in VNs let alone some of the VNs I've worked on LOL)

hmmm i think a lot of it is just like… i’m in my late twenties and have been making stuff for a while and just feel secure in my identity and relationship to queerness/sexuality etc, i’ve gotten a lot of shit from people over the years but what i realised every time was like… it doesn’t sway the opinions of the ppl that genuinely respect you and what you do. everyone fears ‘i’ll get a callout and immediately lose every friend i have’ but that doesn’t happen if you are already honest w ur friends… everyone i know has weird stuff they’re into that isn’t for me but i respect and vice versa.

i really firmly believe queerness is about a rejection of straight society, straight dreams for the future of nuclear families and white picket fences, and that means being friends w lifestyle fetishists and ppl that attend orgies or go to kink clubs etc. i’m not really that cool myself lol but.. what’s the fucking point of being gay or trans if you are still hiding all the stuff you’re into from everyone? i was already doing that when i was closeted so why do it all over again? being around freaks and making art for freaks is my real home, and don’t care about the thoughts of other queer ppl who’s idea of being queer is having a new way to play pretend police with people lol. i want to live a life of openness and joy around people who believe in the same, life is too short for shame.

so, in terms of making art… i want to make art that reflects this reality. i’m a pervert, my friends are all perverts, why make art that pretends reality isn’t what it is? art is soul crushing work, no matter how much you enjoy it is nerve wracking, humiliating work… so if i’m working that hard, why do it for dishonest art?

[thatweirdtranny]

what does it mean to be an American to you? what does your perfect america look like?

i don’t really have a concept of a perfect america or what it is to be an american beyond “person who lives in the usa” but i’ll give it a shot.

what it is to be an ideal american:

open to new ideas and different perspectives, we are a huge and diverse nation that’s honestly incredibly polarized at the moment politically and my favorite flavor of fellow citizen is one who can disagree while still respecting the other side

understanding of different cultural backgrounds because most of us come from immigrant backgrounds at some point (obviously excluding ppl who are first nations), we are a melting pot culture

progressive, always looking to the future while remembering/honoring the past, we have a relatively short history as a country compared to many but we’re a people who are always looking for new possibilities while remembering both the good and bad parts of our past (good would be our dedication to innovation, bad would be…. well that’s a long list, this country has fucked up a lot)

caring about human rights, equality/equity, most of us are descended from people who came to america to escape something going on in our ancestors’ home countries so i believe it’s our job to create a society where we don’t have to worry about oppression no matter where it comes from

cares about the land and its history — what did your area look like before european settlers colonized it? who lived there and what was their language/culture/general mode of existing? was the land taken care of or maintained a certain way by the local tribes/nations before it was colonized?

what is my idea of a perfect america:

native communities have the resources they need to live happy healthy lives in their homelands, with their languages maintained and the land maintained the way it has been historically and with science in mind (controlled burns, cultivated forests and natural habitat intermixed with holistically farmed land, wildlife corridors, etc)

education is entirely secular and well funded so that people don’t need to resort to private schools to educate their kids well

less funding for the military generally speaking, redirect those funds towards socialized healthcare and higher education

less funding for police, redirect that funding towards community services

in fact completely overhaul the police system, require psychological evals to root out the bullies and corrupt people, give them a minimum of 2-4 years of schooling specifically for law enforcement, require unconscious bias training, and make it so that every lawsuit for police misconduct comes out of the police’s pension funds

NO MORE ELECTORAL COLLEGE, implement ranked choice voting, do anything to end the two party system

progressive tax, better labor laws, let’s make america the land of people who don’t have to exist from paycheck to paycheck like most of us do now

restoration of native habitats and species. when there’s 20 million bison roaming the plains and wolves in most of the lower 48 again and the wetlands are wetlanding and the forests are foresting and the deserts not expanding and the amphibians and insects and fish are all at healthy population levels i will be happy

let’s talk “american freedom” for a second. i HATE the wet dream conservatives have about a very militaristic ideal of freedom. to me when i envision what i wish “american freedom” meant i yearn for a future where everyone has opportunity, can participate in democracy (our democracy isn’t perfect, we have to strengthen it), can do/be anything they want, etc

to achieve these ideals i think i most like the term “social democracy” with a mixed economy — i like the ideal of other more complete types of socialism but believe that a mixed economy is a more reasonable goal. healthcare and education would be socialized, housing and other things would be at least partially socialized, and social services would have more resources.

look i really just want everyone to be healthy, happy, without giving assholes the opportunities they currently have to hurt others, to oppress minorities/the poor/homeless, etc

ok i’m running out of spoons so i’m done for now

[ssahotchnerr]

  (😡Gets riled up at ppl at ur job being mean to you and had to bring some sort of fluff i hope it helps just a little bit)  

I feel like Aaron would be so upset seeing you come home all distraught every day from work. At first he chalks it up from it just being the new person jitters and you also try to do the same because your new and maybe it’s just a new environment thing . But after a few months pass nothing changes. As in everyday you come home, you’re still as tired as the first day and honestly, it’s been getting even worse. You can barely even finish you dinner before your just slinking away to the bedroom to get ready for bed because you’re just exhausted. And it doesn’t help that it’s not just the physical exhaustion but the mental one to. Why did ppl have to be such assholes at your job you had been doing your best with what you were given which wasn’t much and a lot at the same time 😡😡

You’re super surprised though when he is sitting on his side of the bed waiting because usually, he stays up to do some more work but the serious look on his face tell you that a talk is about to occur and you don’t know if you’re even up for it as you slip in bed.

“Are you okay sweetheart?”

“I’m fine just tired.” You try to answer without your voice wobbling too much (it fails). But also it’s Aaron you’re talking to and he wouldn’t be asking you this if he didn’t already know the answer so he huffs and wraps an arm around your shoulder bringing you close before telling you (instead of asking you this time)

“Sweetheart something is wrong and has been wrong for a while, so talk to me sweet girl. let me help”

And then you just burst into tears because everything is wrong and youre tired of holding it in😭. You start telling him how horrid the people at work are and how you’re trying to do your best but it seems like you always make a mistake which leads to them getting angry at you. Or how they leave you to do most of the work even if it’s outside of your duties and then tell you they could get it done faster. The list is long and each grievance you put out has his eyebrows furrowing deeper and deeper and his frown doing the same😠😠(<-- that’s him).

“Quit.”

That catches you off guard as you try to wipe your tears away and look up at him with confusion (:0?).

“W-what?”

“Quit. I don’t want you working where people treat you this way. You deserve to have coworkers who respect you or at the very least mind their business and don’t make things worse.”

“Aaron I can’t quit we have bills to pay!”

He almost wants to laugh because you and him know that he can take care of both of you with no problems if you decided you didn’t want to work. But he doesn’t and just hugs you tighter and you happily bury yourself into his chest and accept the comfort that comes from being in his hold.

“We do, but I rather you quit and let me take care of things rather than seeing you like this everyday knowing you’re unhappy. It bothers me.”

It almost makes you want to cry again because of how sweet he is and as much as you want to take up his offer you dont want to feel like ur free loading off of him (even though it's very clear he just wants to take care of you and wouldnt even think about it like that bc he loves you and wants the best for you🥺😩) But still…

“Can I think about it Aar I just wanna try and tough it out I guess…show them I’m not running away or something..” 

Aaron of course huffs at this because you’re not running away it’s more like the people are pushing you away and he wants to say something but he also wants to respect your decision so he’s just like,

“Fine but if you come home crying again, your boss isn’t going to like it when I show up.” 

You laugh but he’s not joking and you can’t help but kiss in between his eyebrows hoping to smooth out the wrinkles that appear there with how furrowed his brows are. You’re going to try and stick it out but you keep Aarons's words in your head as you two snuggle together feeling a little better being able to talk to him about your woes.

You do end up eventually quitting after an incident that has you throwing your badge down at your boss's desk and storming out the office. Also wouldn’t you know it a month after you leave the company they end up being hit  with violations and fines for some unethical practices and scheming management had been doing and eventually they had to close down✌.(Wonder who dug up some dirt on those folks 🙃🤔😏).

(I hope this made you feel a bit better but i also hope either these ppl stop being asses or you somehow find yourself being scooped up by a greg/aaron along with a new job that treats you better 😭😭😭😭 you’re such a good person and shouldn’t have to deal with this)

this made me feel insanely better are you kidding 🥺🥺🥺 i don't even know what to say??? <33333

:( <3 he would be so so so supportive, so loving and understanding. he knows exactly what you need, exactly what you need to hear, and will stop at nothing until your tears turn into a smile. the most comforting man ever ever ever ever. ugh he would hold you so tightly and securely in his arms that all your worries would be instantly forgotten, and the world doesn't seem as dark. i want to cry in his arms so bad :(

and the part about digging up dirt made me giggle hehe i wonder who did that 🤭 hehe aaron hotchner vs anything that makes you upset he will come out on top <333

thank you so much, and thank you for taking the time to write all that out 🥺 i can absolutely guarantee you i will be returning to this constantly, especially while i'm at that horrid place >:(