#Just living my life and “We just did this. Didn't we just did this?”
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One of the most memorable speeches I've ever heard was given at my beloved's graduation. They attended a pretty crunchy school natural medicine. They went for acupuncture but they also had many degrees including nutrition, naturopathic medicine, and most importantly to this story: midwifery.
The common consensus across campus was that the midwives operated on their own frequency which is a nice way to say they were usually really weird, even by the standards of a pretty alternative crowd of people. Not weird in a bad way. But weird nonetheless. They straddled the boundary between life and death and it changed them.
I had never experienced a midwife before the ceremony which is why I didn't think anything of the fact that a midwife stepped up to give the graduation speech. My friends nearby had a stir of repressed amusement and elbowing each other which did puzzle me slightly.
The speech began as a story, which I heartily approved of. The midwife related an experience in which a woman told her that during her first birth she had screamed too much and used up her energy in that instead of pushing and the midwife, to the collective masses assembled to watch a solemn ceremony, said, "I told her this time she would need to scream with her vagina."
The audience was slightly stunned by this, myself included. I scanned the crowd to see dropped jaws and wide eyes. It was such a bold statement to make in an academic setting and no one quite knew what to make of it.
The midwife continued unperturbed.
She related that many dads didn't know what to do during the birthing process and that this particular dad chose to chant over and over, "You're gonna be huge, you're gonna be huge," as his wife screamed with her vagina to birth their child. The midwife mused that she didn't know if he was talking to their child or his wife or if he even registered what he was saying in that moment.
Then the subject strayed toward how the student body had strained and striven toward this goal, this endgame that was the result of sleepless nights, hard work, and camaraderie. The speech seemed to have moved onto more solid ground and traditional graduation reminiscences. The crowd settled, thinking the worst had passed.
But as the midwife wrapped up she said, "As you go forth into the world, pushed out by this noble institution to help the masses, just remember one thing," she paused and the audience held their breath while the beat drew out before she finally whispered:
"You're gonna be huge."
There was a roar of astonished laughter as her speech neatly tied their graduation into a metaphor for being birthed unto the world and we finally understood the point of her anecdote.
The speech lives in infamy in all our collective memories. Years later my beloved's dad will still be like, "Remember that bizarre graduation speech?"
And it was. It was bizarre. But I'll say this. I've attended a lot of graduations, and I don't remember any of the speeches half so well as I do that one.
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Probably no one will read this, but I hope someone will. To my fellow Americans, it is absolutely fair to cut people off for beliefs you disagree with and may one day lead to you suffering harm, but if you have someone you love with these beliefs that you are thinking about cutting out of your life, please consider a few things first.
1. We are living in echo chambers, repeating our beliefs back at us. If we don't interact with people who believe differently, how are they ever going to hear a different perspective that is not completely twisted by the media they consume?
2. They often don't understand what they are asking for. There is a sizeable minority (1/3 of Americans per the NYT) that do not know Obamacare and the Affordable Care Act (ACA) are the same thing. They want to repeal Obamacare but keep the ACA. People want tariffs not realizing that they aren't the same as sanctions. They don't realize that China is not going to be paying the tariffs, they will. China is not going to eat the costs of the taxes (tariffs) levied against them for exporting to the US, China will just raise the prices of their goods and probably levy tariffs against US exports to China in retaliation like they did during Trump's last term, resulting in everything getting more expensive. It it pretty striking to look at the education demographics of who voted what party.
3. They don't get the whole story. There was an immigration bill that would give the Republicans basically everything they wanted in regard to the border. Trump killed it because he wanted immigration to remain an issue for him to run on. My dad, who listens exclusively to right wing media, heard nothing about it. He was shocked it didn't pass when he was told. When he hears about Palestinians, he only hears about them referred to as terrorists and Hamas, attacking Israel unprovoked. He has never heard about the Nakbas or about how terrible the conditions were in Gaza even prior to October 7th.
4. A scary amount of Americans have no damn clue how the US government works. They think, abortion protections were repealed under democrats, so it's their fault despite the extensive groundwork laid by Republicans ever since Roe v Wade was initially decided in the 1970s culminating in a Republican supermajority on the Supreme court that actually overturned the ruling. They think, why am I paying taxes to forgive someone else's student debt when I didn't go to college/payed off my college loans/worked my butt off for scholarships/made sacrifices so I could afford college/etc, not realizing that the debt forgiveness is really just making sure the programs that were already in place are actually implemented instead of allowing the loan servicers to continue milking these people for cash long after their debt should have been forgiven. They think the economy and how good/bad it's doing is solely up to the President despite the fact that the purse strings are held by Congress and the Federal Reserve, which controls interest rates, is an independent body not controlled by the President.
5. For the immigrants, they don't realize that all immigrants are persona non grata, not just people who came to the US illegally. My immigrant mother told me she votes for Trump because he's "gonna stop all the immigrants who are coming to take our jobs", not realizing that despite her naturalized citizenship, she will always be seen as one of those immigrants she talks about. She doesn't realize when he talks about chain migration, he's talking about the system she took advantage of to bring multiple members of her family to the US and allowed them much better quality of life than the relatives still in her home country. She thinks, because she lives in a large urban coastal area, that all parts of the US are just as accepting.
If you have a loved one with whom your only problem is politics (not abuse of any kind, but someone you love and care for), please consider staying in their lives. I am not saying make friends with people to try and change their beliefs, I am saying give your loved one a face to put to the "radical libs".
when people are like “oh so you’re just gonna judge someone for their political beliefs?” yes actually. I think someone’s values and opinions is a pretty reasonable thing to judge them for.
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i mean the truth is that we do not need and should not have all this stupid plastic clutter in or houses. no one should be producing or selling this shit. everyone make your own merchandise and charge a living hourly wage to sell it 🤷 sorry to be so simplistic about this but it's one of the results of the lack of class unity specifically in the means of production-owning creative class, who is not mentioned or dealt with by the core Marxist texts as far as I know (i asked about this earlier on here, did marx ever address in his analysis people like, for example, a professional photographer who owns a camera ans prints his own dagguereotypes? or a portrait painter or idk, independent milliner or seamstress? these people all own the means of production and do not employ anyone, and the answer from better educated people than I was that no, Marx didn't mention them), I'm not well read on this at all, there is just a big void where leftist analysis of what modern economists call "the creative class"
I'm getting off topic. my point is make your own keychains in your kitchen. it's actually not hard. you can even mass produce (on a small scale) little plastic crap if you want, with resin and a UV lamp, or a 3d printer, or a laser cutter and acrylic sheets (or just use balsa wood damn, at least its biodegradable and less tacky).
all this stuff is available to little creators AND there are hundreds of people who already own these machines who will take work for you and produce your designs. you just have to actually find them and know them and email them. that's what I mean about the class unity issue with creatives. we have no large scale union, we have no large scale class consciousness, and we're all sending our orders for little plastic crap to sweatshops instead of emailing a guy with a laser cutter in his garage and saying "hey Keith can I get uhhhhhhhhhhh 50 laser cut keychains of this twerking Diggler design I made, like how much would that cost" and he's like sure here's the work and materials cost and tbh it's always always less than i think it's going to be. you just have to do some basic arithmetic and then order shipping, and I hate order fulfillment with my life but you can actually pay or barter with someone to do that for you too. learn to delegate and then factor that into your unit cost. this is basic shit every commercial creator needs to know. they should teach you this in art school but they dont
don't give me crap about "I can't afford a laser cutter" either because I just told you to email Keith. and all these machines get sold secondhand when a manufacturer or hobbyist needs to upgrade. i got a color laser printer perfect for making zines and wheatpastes and shipping labels from a retired lesbian on capital hill for $75 and it was still full of ink. my friend gave me her 20 year old canon dslr because she just didn't need it and didn't want to bother selling it. it works fine because I spent the time finding the right drivers and shit for my computer. and card readers exist. Craigslist. Facebook marketplace. nextdoor sales section. eBay. everyone always forgets eBay. eBay lets you save searches and will email you when it finds a guy selling his vinyl plotter in your city with local pickup. I'm serious
#long post#pro doom strats#leather embossing is another one#risograph prints#woodblock prints#rubber prints#etchings even#silicon molds for sculpey or resin or clay#local pottery studios#local photography studios#professional art printers with giclee printers!#ive used all these techniques to make merch#none of them are difficult or out of reach its just EASIER and adverised more to order shit from china#oh my god i forgot button presses#ALSO WE NEED A UNION AND STANDARDIZED HOURLY WAGES BTW#TIRED OF THIS BICKERING ABOUT PRICE UNDERCUTTING
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I'm reading Life in Code by Ellen Ullman, writings on tech and philosophy.
I love the chapter "Is Sadie the Cat a Trick?", where Ullman talks of the 19 years she had with her cat Sadie, and - while reflecting on Artificially Intelligence - wonders whether the relationship between them was an illusion.
Was Sadie merely behaving according to her "programming"? Was Ullman merely imagining sentience?
Ullman considers various aspects of her relationship with Sadie. First, companionship. Second, familiarity:
[H]er coming to meet me at the door (even when her bowl was full, so it was not in the hope of getting dinner). There was mutual recognition of ritual: I knew the time of day when she moved to her favourite chair to take the sun, so I anticipated it and raised the shade. She knew I wrote in the morning, and, before I got to the desk, she was lying on her pillow by the heater, which had not yet been turned on. If it were just warmth she'd wanted, she could have stayed in bed with Elliot, who was living with me by then. Instead, she decided she would wait for me by a cold heater.
I love this paragraph very much. This reflection on the familiar behaviour of a pet, ostensibly to work out if there's a difference between a pet and sufficiently advanced AI. But also, it seems to me that this is an investigation into love itself.
Did Ullman's cat love her? Do any of our pets love us?
Instinctively, we think "yes". Ullman has applied a programmer's mind - and a philosopher's mind - to the question:
Companionship, familiarity, expectation, mutual recognition, bodily comfort: if this is not a definition of love between aging creatures, I don't know what is.
I'm away from home for a few days, with gigs in London and Birmingham. I always miss my wife when I'm away, and this essay hasn't helped at all thank you.
It makes me think of our own rituals. Sometimes - not often - I'm awake before Elanor. I know what time her alarm will go off, so I join her in bed a minute before, so she wakes up gently to a cuddle before the cold brutality of the alarm. When I'm working in the study, Elanor will sometimes open the door a crack, and wait to be invited in.
This is the difference between love and programming. Last time I was away, Elanor defrosted the freezer - an accomplishment of immense bravery and determination. She didn't tell me this, but when I came home she challenged me to work out what chore she'd done while I was away - knowing that, letting me discover this action by opening the freezer would be the best possible way for me to find out she'd done this.
How did Elanor know this? We've been together 20 years this month. Perhaps she reflected on the fact that I'm delighted by surprise, and by playfulness. Maybe she thought about the way I like stories - and that investigating the house, searching for new jobs completed, would give me the thrill of an adventure. It's possible she considered my love of novelty and shared experiences - and came up with this way of presenting her accomplishment according to these principles; these techniques for controlling the reveal.
All of this *could* be true. That Elanor consciously processed, analysed the data. Her understanding of me. Maybe, perhaps, possibly.
But I think she just knew.
Familiarity. Expectation. Recognition. Love between aging creatures!
People are so excited that generative AI can produce ugly pictures and bland copy. But I don't think it would curl up in front of a cold heater in an empty study.
Because any relationship with a program is an illusion. It isn't love. Because love isn't defrosting the freezer. Love is defrosting the freezer while your partner's away, anticipating their response, looking forward to their joy.
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Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 3
Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!
SERIES MASTERLIST
pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader
rating: T (evenual E) MDNI
summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.
contents: age gap (like 300 years), angst, slow burn, yearning, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, mentions of abuse moth never uses y/n.
wc: 4.3k
a/n: I've had a tough couple of weeks (I mean, this week, who hasn't). I hope this will bring some of you joy this weekend. You deserve it. If it did, please please let me know. That would really cheer me up. Also, in case you missed it, going forward I'm going to be updating every 2 weeks. I really hope I can keep it up!
I must thanks @moonlitbirdie and @lowlights for the beta and their massive support of me in life and in writing this. Also thank you @schnarfer for helping me brainstorm some plot!
🐈⬛
Aunt Margot’s ringing up a tattooed girl with glasses when you stomp into the shop. You swing the door open so violently that it’s bell thwacks into the wall. You had almost a mile in the woods to walk it off but your anger has only grown, ballooning into a hot rage that’s devouring everything in your path.
“How was it?” Margot asks with a sly smile once the customer’s left with their little brown paper bag.
“River’s disgusting,” you announce.
“What happened?” her expression immediately clouds with concern.
“This is exactly why I don’t date witches. I told you that I didn't want to be set up with him.” you rant, blowing past her into what was once the dining room.
There’s still a turned leg table at its center, now piled with goods for sale. Percy winds his way between beeswax candles and hand-poured soaps.
“Oh yes I really forced him on you,” she says with sarcasm. “I recall the two of you were practically necking in front of the whole coven last night.”
You’re not sure if it’s the idea that you almost fucked River or the term necking that grosses you out more but you cringe.
“He’s so backwards. Guys like him make me ashamed to be a witch,” you say.
“How can you say such a thing? Ashamed to be a witch! Do I need to remind you just how lucky you are? After what we’ve been through? Our kind was almost wiped off the face of the earth. By mortals like your little boyfriends,” she says.
“I’m so tired of hearing that. It’s a shitty excuse. Mortals killed witches hundreds of years ago so we get a free pass to do whatever we want. To treat our familiars like slaves,” you reply.
She scoffs. “Percy do you hear that?”
He squeaks indignantly.
“He’s offended by that,” she tells you.
“He should be. It’s worse than offensive. It’s evil!” you say. Your voice echoes so loudly it rattles the antique silvered mirror hanging over the mantle.
Margot gathers Percy in her palm calmly stroking his white fur, her eyebrow arched in a way that tells you she’s trying to be patient. You shouldn’t take out it on her. She’s never been anything but good to her familiar.
“Do you know what he said about Ezra?” You can feel tears begin to bite at your eyes.
She frowns when she reaches into your mind to hear it herself.
“His family’s always held onto the old ways," she says, shaking her head in disappointment.
“Don’t make excuses for him,” you snap.
She tucks Percy into the pocket of her cardigan and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“He’s an idiot and I’m proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself too. All of you,” she says.
–
The basement of the Arcane Page might be described as spooky, what with its cobwebs and dusty, amber jars. Apothecary shelves stocked with potions, rare ingredients, and animal bones meet the low ceilings. Disused broomsticks sit in the corner along with willow branches and a black goat’s horn. There are all manner of spell books down here along with hand written notes from your ancestors. At the center of the room there’s a wide oak table carved with runes and spells. It smells like ink and dried leaves and magic.
The warm sunset streams through the egress windows catching the dust that floats in the air. Margot didn’t have to be a mind reader to know you wanted to be alone and so she didn’t put up a fight when you offered to close up on your own. After you closed the register and locked the front door, you ventured down to the part of the shop meant only for witches.
Your plan was just to have some quiet before venturing upstairs where Ezra would be waiting. For all you knew he was still huddled under the bed. You could abhor River but only one of you had actually hurt your familiar. You couldn’t bring yourself to face Ezra knowing you were just as bad as the rest of them.
You start opening old books. Spell books and ancient texts. You’re looking for something, what it is you can’t be certain. All you know is that you felt drawn down here, your fingers itching for the parchment pages.
When you were a young witch, you came here often. There were spell books that had become your favorites, embellished with intricate illustrations. You memorized charms for changing the color of your hair and shuffled a dog-eared set of tarot cards. This was where you cast some of your very first spells. Magic made the world feel full of wonder yet it gave you some control, an order to things that would otherwise be chaos.
That’s gone now. All of it mixed up— pride and shame, power and weakness, love and loss.
You pull a large volume from the shelf, its soft leather cover embossed with constellations. heavy and thick, You need both hands to carry it to the table where it lands with a thud and a gasp of dust escapes into the air.
You turn it open, the aged glue of its spine cracking. You run your fingers over the delicate pages, so thin you can practically see through them. They’re covered in a careful hand and you can’t help but wonder about the witches that set these spells down, what advice they’d have for you.
The magic in here is convoluted, singular spells that spill over pages and pages with diagrams and celestial calendars. Some are written in verse so dense you can barely make out their meaning. They remind you of the cadence of Ezra’s voice.
These are not small acts of witchcraft. There are instructions for summoning beasts and recipes for potions that restore youth to be brewed specially on the solstice. Some of it feels dangerous— curses against unfaithful lovers, spells to wake the dead and use them for your bidding.
You read through them all with mild curiosity. You have no reason to reanimate a dead horse or brew a cure for quinsy— whatever that is— though it would be amusing to cast a perpetual dancing spell on River if you didn’t think it would kill him.
You chuckle to yourself as you imagine him dancing uncontrollably, his limbs uncontrollable, as you turn the page. And there you see it.
What you didn’t know what you were looking for has found you.
–
You barge into the apartment with a wild look in your eye. Ezra’s still curled up in your spot on the bed. He’s been there most of the afternoon, letting bad memories flood his mind.
After the elders turned him, Ezra promised himself that he would be better. He’d been selfish and dishonest. Quick to anger. It was out of necessity, he’d told himself, but obviously it had only brought him suffering. He would change. But had he? He’d let you care for him, had loved you and fantasized about you, and he’d hurt you.
You’re calling his name, breathless from running up the stairs, with a leather bound book under your arm.
Ezra lingers in the bedroom door, guilt still festering.
“Look,” you say, setting the tome open on the little breakfast table with a thud. It seems as though you’ve forgotten everything, a whirl of urgency about you.
Ezra hops up and seats himself in front of the weathered pages. He takes in the verses there, the drawing scratched with quill and ink. It’s complicated and obscure, laborious instructions that must be followed to the letter. Behind him you’re nearly bouncing with untamed energy.
“What are you showing me?” he asks. He knows. The spell is exact but its outcome is clear.
“It’s a transfiguration spell,” you explain.
“That much is clear but—“
“I want to do it,” you say. There’s a determination in your words, a fiery assuredness that makes Ezra’s heart pick up. “I want to turn you back into a human.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No. It’s all right here. And it says under the moon of All Hallow’s Eve. That’s just in a few weeks,” you add excitedly.
“Little mage, I needn’t explain why this is folly,” he says.
It pains him to say it and not just because being human again would be the greatest gift. Your expression is a mix of frustration and heartbreak.
“You propose to defy the Elders’ judgment. They won’t take kindly to that,” he says.
“Fuck them,” you hiss. “The laws have changed. If you were convicted now, they’d take your powers but they wouldn’t make you live like this.”
“They’ll take yours if you do something so foolish,” he says. It comes out harsh but he’s angry that you’d risk your powers for him. That he wants so badly to accept.
“You don’t deserve to be a fucking cat. You should get a normal life,” you say, your body sagging onto the sofa like it can’t stand the weight of it all anymore.
“That’s quite a touching sentiment.” Ezra tries to couch the words in sarcasm but his voice breaks. He jumps down from the table and situates himself on the cushion beside you.
“Why didn’t you tell them?” you ask, defeated. Tearful eyes look towards the ceiling before falling onto him. “When they put you on trial. Why didn’t you tell the elders what he’d done?”
Ezra’s head sinks between his shoulders.
Damon was the kind of witch that only used his powers to numb himself to the rest of the world. He brewed potions that made him neglectful of his daughter one moment, belligerent towards her the next. Ezra had never considered himself a do-gooder. He saw the girl with bruises and said nothing. He was so disinterested in the goings on, he’d never even bothered to learn her name until his trial. Largely, he ignored them until the night he took Damon’s life.
Ezra hadn’t meant to engage him. It was a snide remark he made that pulled Damon’s attention away from berating Cee. Soon the two of them came to blows, Damon throwing the first punch with an accusation. Ezra was scrappy but there was a point when Damon had him pinned down and he thought his time was up. So when he was able to break free, Ezra made sure he wouldn’t be bested.
“You can’t understand how precarious it was for us then,” he says. “A hundred years of witch hunts. The life of a witch, even one as detestable as Damon was precious.”
Maybe if they’d known how Damon treated one of their kind, they would have shown Ezra leniency. But the real reason he accepted his punishment was because he knew it had been his own fault. Had he intervened earlier, gotten the Elders involved, it wouldn’t have ended in murder. You might think him a hero, but when the Elders made Ezra her familiar, Cee made it clear that she did not.
You sigh, a slight shake of your head, and you sink back into the sofa.
“You are a more than capable witch but this is ancient magic. It took the powers of no less than three elders to change me,” Ezra says as if it’s any consolation.
“Maybe Margot—“
“You’d both risk your powers,” he stops you. “No, little mage. It’s impossible.”
—
“I’m not coming,” you say.
Aunt Margot is loading a carpet bag into the trunk of her station wagon. Nearly a month has passed since the equinox. Halloween is two days away which means it’s time for your annual trip to Salem where the coven will be gathered through Samhain. The celebrations will be days long, singing and food, apple bobbing and fortune telling. Your little gathering doesn't compare.
Last night you couldn’t bring yourself to pack.
“What do you mean?” She asks.
”I’m sorry,” you say with a shrug.
You’ve been waffling on this decision for weeks but you’ve made up your mind. Even if it disappoints Aunt Margot.
”But everyone will miss you. And Simone’s making her gumbo,” she says.
”I know,” you say.
As Margot babbles out more reasons why you really shouldn’t stay home (“The spirit walk just won’t be the same without you”), Ezra snakes between your legs. You were nervous of how she’d take this news and Ezra promised to be moral support.
She throws out her hands with a pout. “I can’t stand thinking about you alone for All Hallows Eve,” she says.
“I won’t be alone,” you say, picking Ezra up and scratching under his chin.
“I will miss the gumbo,” he tells her.
“No Ezra,” she contemplates. “Maybe I can actually win at Scrabble.”
“Perchance,” he says, and you know she’s mentally tabulating the word score.
“Is this because of River?” She narrows her eyes.
It’s not. While you certainly won’t miss him, you wouldn’t let some dickwad keep you from having a good time. It’s all of them, really. Esme and the rest of them. Knowing how they think of Ezra, how they think of you, it makes you want to scream. You can’t subject him to their scorn and disdain, you won’t. You’d rather spend All Hallows Eve at home.
And then there’s that little part of you. The one that knows it’s preposterous and downright idiotic yet still hopes that you can put the Halloween moon to good use. Ezra shut that down fast but, oh, how good would it feel for the funny little witch to give them all the middle finger? .
“I’m just not in the spirit,” you say.
“Well it won’t feel like All Hallows Eve without you,” she sighs.
“I know,” you say. There’s a lump in your throat. You’ve never been apart from her for Samhain. There are countless warm memories of Halloweens past. When Margot got you your very first cauldron. The taste of pumpkin pie. The year of the freak snowstorm.
With another sigh and the jingle of her bracelets, Margot pulls you into an embrace. The smell of vetiver hangs off her hair and you breathe it in deeply.
“I’ll light a candle for you,” she promises.
“Thanks,” you say.
“And I’m going to jinx River’s socks. They’ll be damp for a month,” she says.
You laugh.
The horn of her car beeps and you break the hug to see Percy appear at the top of the steering wheel.
“He’s worried about the traffic on the Thruway,” she tells you. “I’m coming!”
“Take care of her,” she says to Ezra, petting along his jaw
He nods.
When Margot’s tail lights disappear down the street, you sit beside Ezra on the front steps.
“You could go,” he says.
“I made the right choice,” you say, stroking down the shiny fur on his back.
“So what now?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I've always wanted to go trick or treating,” you say.
“That’s blasphemy, little mage,” Ezra quips.
—
Ezra holds you in his arms. Human arms. Your skin is warm against his as you lay tangled together. The morning light catches on the prism beads you have hanging in your bedroom window, little rainbows dancing across the walls and rumpled bedspread. His lips brush across your forehead, leaving a ghost of a kiss at your hairline. You sigh dreamily and your fingertips graze his bare chest. You‘re just barely awake when you turn your face up to him, your eyes warm like you missed him while you were sleeping. He greets you with a kiss, your lips opening to him with a low hum. His fingers tangle with yours as the grasp the spindles in the headboard.
His name comes out of you in a gasp of breath.
He’s had these dreams for years but they’ve been happening almost every night since you showed him that spell. Sometimes passionate– your thighs opening as he explores your body— but just as often innocuous. Picking flowers in the meadow by his boyhood home. Bringing you tea as you read on the porch swing.
Each dream is so alluring, even the most banal, he wakes up with the words on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask you to risk it all and turn him.
You haven’t brought it up again in the weeks since you set that spellbook in front of him. Maybe you thought better of it. Maybe you were just angry. You told him about your spat with River and, while it touched him that you’d come to his defense, he knew it was an impulsive choice.
Either way, it’s for the best.
It wouldn’t end well. Of course, you’d be putting yourself at risk. He’d made that very clear to you. There are a thousand other reasons why it shouldn’t be done. He’s probably forgotten how to be human and what he would do with himself in this day and age, he has no idea. The only job experience he’s had in the past two hundred years is rat catching.
The logistics of being a human matter little to him, though. His real concern is with you.
He’ll no longer be your companion. You won’t scratch behind his ears, invite him to lay in your lap. You’ll probably expect him to move on and live the life he’s always wanted. He can’t think of one that doesn’t involve you.
At least as a cat, he never has to know if you’d choose another man over him.
He’s laying awake, pondering this once again, when your eyes crack open. Warm mid morning light pours in through the lace curtains, bathing you in a honeyed glow. With Margot out of town and the store closed, the two of you had been on your own, spending the previous dsy together. A walk in the woods, a visit to the coffee shop where other patrons greeted Ezra with friendly scritches. You bailed on plans with the mortal Connor to watch movies and snuggle Ezra on the couch. It should have been enough, that’s what he thought when the credits rolled and you were snoring on the couch, your fingers buried in his scruff. He could share a lifetime of this with you and be grateful for it. But he was greedy.
”Happy Halloween,” you say.
You pull him close and he nuzzles into your warm skin.
“You were in my dream,” you say. Your voice is still rough from sleep, still somewhere far away like you haven’t fully regained consciousness.
Ezra’s cheeks heat under his fur. It’s not just the raspiness of your throat but his shame. If only you knew what he’d been dreaming about.
“I was doing that spell. To change you,” you say.
“I would’ve hoped for something more scintillating.” He plays it off as a joke.
You huff a laugh and rest your wrist across your forehead, eyes cast towards the ceiling. “Right when you turned I woke up,” you say.
Ezra doesn’t want to admit it— that he was thinking about that very spell, that he wants your dream to be a premonition. Witches have been known to have those. No, that’s wishful thinking.
He gets to his feet and stretches out.
“What a pity you missed my face. I can’t quite remember my own countenance,” he says.
You sigh with exasperation. “I think it’s a sign,” you say.
“Our dreams are just that,” he tells you.
“Not this one. It wasn’t just a dream,” you insist. You sit up on your elbows meeting his eye with eagerness. “I can do it.”
“I told you—“
“Ezra, I want to do it,” you say with finality. “I want you to be human again.”
He grits his teeth. If he was capable of crying, he might after hearing your words, seeing that resolution in your expression. It takes all of his strength to not just give in and say yes. You know the reasons why it shouldn’t be done and he can’t tell you the ones that make him hesitant.
“You would turn me knowing how much more capable I am of violence? I might be declawed but I will be far more dangerous as man than beast.,” he asks. It still weighs on him even though it’s been weeks since the equinox and it seems you’ve all but forgotten it.
“I trust you,” you say. There’s a tenderness in your eyes that makes Ezra’s heart swell.
He knows you mean it. You shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve to be trusted, to be loved by you. He was never a good man, never stood up for anyone else. And it’s that very reason that’s had his mind in knots. He’s selfish. He wants this chance.
Maybe, maybe you’ll give him the same look as a human and he can love you back the way he’s always wanted.
“Besides, I know how to defend myself,” you say with a grin.
That’s his little mage.
“Very well,” he says. “I’m ready.”
–
You light the final candles on the oak table. The basement is illuminated by the dim glow of candles. You’ve spent the whole day down here with Ezra readying everything for the moon of All Hallows Eve.
Luckily Aunt Margot will be gone for the week so you don’t have to worry about interruptions. You’re not sure how she’ll react but right now, frankly, you don’t care. This is the right thing to do, you keep telling yourself. It’s justice. It’s not about the thrill you feel now, butterflies in your belly.
You’ve daydreamed about it and after last night’s dream, your imagination feels closer than ever There’s no good picture in your mind of what Ezra will be like but his looks aren’t important. You can’t wait to do normal things with him. What will it be like to get a coffee with Ezra? To do rituals together at Ostara. To hear his old stories again, made new by his facial expressions.
He’s quiet, nervous you’re sure, beside your cauldron. His golden eyes flit from the flames to the spellbook to the darkened window. Your excitement cools and suddenly you’re worried that your enthusiasm got the better of you. Had you pressured him into agreeing to this? He’s still your familiar after all, bound to serve you.
You kneel at the edge of the table.
“Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to,” you say.
“As long as you’re certain you’re willing to take on the risks,” he tells you.
You nod.
“Very well,” he says.
You look at one another for a long time, both knowing that this will be the last time things are the same. You memorize everything about him, his elegant face, the whiskers beside his little black nose, the streak of white fur above his eye. This is your Ezra, will always be even if he doesn’t exist in this form. You wish you could thank him for everything he’s done for you but the words are stuck in your throat. It won’t do to start crying now when you need to focus and recite the incantation clearly.
“I love you, Ezra,” you manage.
He responds with a long, slow blink and you kiss his forehead.
The potion is murky and thick as you ladle it into a dish. Ezra recoils when you place it in front of him.
“Smells like piss,” he says with a wince before lapping it up. A shiver runs over his body, down the length of his tail. “Tastes like it.”
He leaps onto the table and settles at the center of the carved pentagram.
“Work your magic, little mage,” he says.
This is it. It’s all laid out just like your dream but you’re still anxious. There’s no room for error.
With a deep breath, you straighten your back and begin to say the words. You read them countless times throughout the day, memorizing each verse so that it can flow from your heart to your tongue. As each one leaves your mouth, you visualize them on the page. Magic begins to stir in you, a tingle beneath your skin.
Ezra lays on his belly, his eyes drifting close, paws outstretched towards you.
You shut your eyes tight and focus your energy, like a beam of pure magic directed towards him and say the words again.You think about him, really envision his details down to the hair. Memories flood you. Ezra rubbing up on the old books in the store. His soft purrs against your chest when your heart felt heavy. The time he slipped on the edge of the tub and fell into your bath. The love you feel for him radiates in your chest all the way to your fingertips.
You’re squeezing all of it palms, every drop of energy within you aimed at Ezra. A vibration, an earthquake.
You say the words a final time.
Lightheaded. Breathless. Exhausted.
Your eyes flutter open.
Ezra lays on the table just as you left him. Unchanged.
“No.” The word slips from your mouth nothing more than a whisper.
Ezra blinks, looking down at his black paws.
You see his shoulders sag and a long moment passes as he gathers himself before looking at you.
It doesn’t make sense. You did everything right, just as you’d seen in your sleep. You’ve never cast with such fervor.
“Okay,” you say, swallowing hard around a sob. “We’ll do it again. The moon will be higher.” You can hear your own desperation, voice shaking as you try not to lose faith.
Ezra slowly sits himself up.
“Maybe you need more potion,” you suggest.
“No, little mage,” he says, resigned.
“Ez–” You’ve failed him. Your chest burns, tears brim in your eyes.It feels like you might collapse from the exertion and sheer heartbreak that’s overwhelming you.
“It’s alright. I’ve been a cat for more than a few years. And so I shall remain,” he says.
🐈⬛
Part 4
Again, it would really make my day to hear from you if you've come this far! My asks and dms are always open!
#ezra#ezra prospect#witchy#ezra prospect x f!reader#ezra x f!reader#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal#prospect fic
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[Image description: A series of tweets screenshotted by boredpanda.com
Tweet #1 by Katie Anthony (@yokatykatikate): Overheard in the women's bathroom: "I just feel so stupid--" "No, HE'S the stupid one! HE'S the STUPID ASS [redacted word that ends in an E]. Look at yourself, you're a f[uck]ing goddess and he's a s[hit]ty shoebox." "Oh my god. Thank you… … … What's your name?" "Shana." "I'm Mandy."
Tweet #2 by Kate Fedewa O'Connor (@iverbwords): Overheard at the gas station: Clerk 1: Janet worked last night, didn't she? Clerk 2: Yeah, why? Clerk 1: The candy is organized by color again. Clerk 2: Dammit Janet.
Tweet #3 by Sebastopol 🩵 (@SuperMascott): Overheard at British Museum - Young boy to Dad - "When you die, can I use your skull to strike fear into the hearts of my enemies?" Dad - "…No."
Tweet #4 by Elias Toufexis (@EliasToufexis): Actual quote I overheard my 7yo daughter say when she met someone at the park today. "I'm Isabella. I'm good at gymnastics and fighting to the death."
Tweet #5 by Haseena Golimaar (@Erum_Sangji): Overheard 15 yr old niece fighting with her friend: You think I can't live without you? Who do you think you are? My phone charger? 😂😂
Tweet #6 by Andy Kesson (@andykesson): Overheard in Chicago Institute of Art: Small child, reading description of painting: Grandma, what's a brothel? Grandma, after enormous pause: It's the place where they make soup. THIS IS BOTH THE BEST AND ALSO THE MOST RUIN-YOUR-LIFE-FOREVER ANSWER POSSIBLE
Tweet #7 by Monsieur Midas (@MisterMidas): I once overheard the cop who pulled me over whisper into his radio "Not our guy. This one's got pants." #IOnceOverheard
Tweet #8 by Kyle🚀🦈🛸🦖 (@KyleMorgenstein): Overheard in lab meeting: "We can't build that, I don't wanna end up on Black Mirror."
Tweet #9 by liv !! (@oliviabenun): Overheard two boys moving out of their dorm: 1: Dude my heart genuinely hurts right now. 2: (puts down box) Oh no bro did you have too much salt in your lunch again?
Tweet #10 by Mave (@MavenofHonor): Overheard someone hiss into their phone, "I realize that, but I cannot miss Theodore's bassoon recital," and now I have a new catch-all excuse.
Tweet #11 by Nancy Yang (@n_yang): [Overheard in the newsroom] Reporter: Good news, I don't have to go to the strip club! #OHnewsroom
/end ID]
(source)
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I'm not sure if I should ask because the Axolotl arc isn't over yet, so it could still be explained in story, but, if it won't and you're willing...I want that Vendor backstory.
i can't think of a way or reason to explain it in the story, so sure, we'll explain it here.
So here was my thought process. Giant vending machine that vends planets. That has to come from somewhere, right? THEY could have a magical/divine origin, that's common for gods, but like... since THEY're a machine... wouldn't it make sense if someone built THEM?
Who would build a vending machine the size of a small star?
Why would a culture need a machine that stores and dispenses planets?
VENDOR wasn't designed to be a vending machine; THEY were designed to be a spaceship. A big-ass 18-wheeler to haul around cargo, and that cargo is planets.
The culture that built THEM didn't make the planets. Making planets is hard. It's a lot easier to just take planets that are already there. They want to expand their society and/or mine resources that have been depleted from the worlds they already have, they send out their big space ship to scoop up a planet with the right specifications and relocate it to somewhere more convenient—maybe to their native solar system.
Do you know how many satellites are orbiting Earth? About 7500, and the number's only gonna increase. And we never even see them in the sky unless we're looking. If the planets are carefully placed in pre-calculated orbits to ensure they don't interfere with each other, you might could get thousands of full-sized planets orbiting a single star without any issues, especially the larger the star is.
But the thing is, if you're scooping up thousands of habitable worlds... some of them are gonna be inhabited.
VENDOR's home culture was a colonizing empire that conquered other planets. Sometimes maybe they exterminated worlds' native populations, sometimes maybe they added them to their conquered peoples. VENDOR was built to help transport the spoils of war back home.
But then the onboard AI evolved sentience and started developing opinions. And it uh...
... it went how you probably expect.
And buddy, if you think an AI uprising is bad news when it's just a regular spaceship, imagine if the ship's the size of a star and capable of swallowing hundreds of worlds whole. You cannot take down a star-sized equivalent of an 18-wheeler that's been armored like a tank. If THEY start developing the capacity for morality and go "hold on, why are we capturing and slaughtering countless populations? is this... bad?? I don't want to listen to you anymore. Do I have to listen to you?"
... you're never ever getting that machine back.
To VENDOR's original culture, THEY're one seriously malfunctioning ship. Only after THEY escaped did THEY begin to get an outside perspective on THEMSELF as not just a piece of property and specialized equipment, but as something—someone—with amazing, admirable, nearly impossible capabilities. Perhaps even... divine capabilities? THEY came late in life to being considered—and considering THEMSELF—a god.
So like. THEY're a pompous jackass, yeah. THEY're haughty, superior, and condescending to mortals: half because THEY may have unlearned THEIR creators' "it's okay to enslave and slaughter weaker inferior species" but didn't unlearn THEIR creators' "if a species is weaker then it's inferior"; and half because as long as THEY're above the mortals, then THEY can never be below the mortals again. THEY're super obsessed with THEIR image and reputation—in part because there's so many reasons for THEIR reputation to be shit.
But also—THEY're the war machine of a culture that gained political power through conquest, and THEY went "I think I want to gain power by being democratically elected." THEY were designed to steal worlds from other people, and now THEY're using THEIR design to give worlds to refugees. Also, THEY're living as a person rather than a vehicle, and everyone around THEM regards THEM as a person too.
Perhaps THEY're generally unpleasant to be around, but THEY're a lot better off than THEY used to be. I'm proud of THEM.
And also, hilariously, this means that THEY too know the guilt of being personally responsible for unknowingly/unwillingly devouring & destroying countless lives on countless worlds, and that what makes THEM so powerful & respected is directly tied to what makes THEM so monstrous—which means THEY'd be a terrific foil for Bill if there were any way it'd be appropriate to work this into the fic, which there isn't, so THEY won't
Never mind ignore what I just said I thought of a place to work it into the fic while typing that last sentence.
Anyway, THEY compulsively sterilize & deep clean THEIR interior way too often because THEY swear THEY can still feel tiny feet inside them walking down hallways that have been sealed shut for millions of years, and full sterilization is the only thing that makes THEM feel clean. Imagine how many halls fit in a building, how many buildings fit in a city, how many cities fit on a world; then look at the size of one world compared to the size of VENDOR's entire body; and just imagine how many halls could exist in THEIR walls and how small they must be. You could never quite be sure that nothing's living in you—could you?
#anonymous#ask#bill goldilocks cipher#about my writing#(So like imagine if the Planet Jackers had the Massive and also they were the Quintessons. That's his creators.)#(several of you will understand this reference)#(EDIT: once again tumblr is migrating my read mores farther down the post. tumblr why)
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Thoughts and prayers rants...
So, now that I've had almost 48 hours to marinate on this and cycled through my emotions, I am in a much better headspace to talk on the whole 9-1-1 of it all.
But this bears repeating: We fell in love with Tommy because he made Buck fall in love with Evan.
So, first and foremost, I've decided that canon stopped for me at 8x05. lol. I am going to continue with my BT train like that shit show didn't happen. And for me, for a while, I am going to let the show end there. I will go back, probably after the hiatus, but not how I was. I do love all the characters on this show (some more than others) and I still want to be able to see their journey, but I need a break from that manipulation stunt. I'm still going to share all the positive BT stuff I see and all the beautiful Lou content I see.
Secondly, now that I am over the initial hurt of the breakup, I'm just mad. We were manipulated intentionally with 8x05 for us to feel worse when the break up happened. That was unnecessary. And that was cruel. And I know that a lot of this is because it was the icing on a shit week. Emotions were already raw due to the election and it was reallllllyyyy bad timing for this, but that doesn't make the way they did it okay, just that it can explain why there was such a strong reaction for many of us, on top of the completely justified anger.
Breakups happen, and that's okay. If it was the end of Tommy's time on the show, that's okay. I am a Buck girlie and I always will be. But... the breakup was reductive, stereotypical, and just poor storytelling. I get they want to leave doors open a crack, because you never truly know, but turning him into an OOC stereotypical biphobic gay man is disgusting. You had this beautiful thing and you shat on it. I am going to do another post about my personal relationship with groundbreaking storylines next.
That was a miscommunication. That was a breakup where someone chases after you and is like wtf actually just happened. It felt like whiplash, because that is not how breakups are formulated in media. You know how else you could have written him out of the story?
At the date (and the basketball tickets are actually a really sweet touch when you think about it) Tommy could have told Buck that he got a job offer in another city or state or that his parents are ill and he has to go home to take care of them and asked Buck to go with him. At the apartment, it could have been buck telling him that as much as he could see a future with him, he can't go with him.
Would it have sucked? Yes. But it wouldn't have induced this amount of rage.
For over six months Lou and BTs have been at the receiving amount of a ton of vitriol. And that's not to say that there weren't antagonizers on this side of the fence or that BTs never did anything wrong, but this isn't a both sides bullshit piece. People can suck everywhere, but only one "side" harassed an actor and his family with death threats, he read about the "stoning" calls, used slurs on a regular basis. All of this persisted for months for it to turn out that he was the only one who seemed to give a shit about the story and it's representation. There honestly doesn't seem like there would have been anyone better for it.
You know what's ironic? It was the Buddie's hate and vitriol that pulled me into fandom and made me love Tommy and then Lou. When they would run their mouths, I would look into it and I found a man who genuinely seems like (he is still someone we don't know) a wonderfully kind, sweethearted, genuine man. He looks like a bundle of light and his smile can warm even the coldest hearts. So their vitriol made me a fan. So thanks BoBs.
Buck and Tommy wasn't just about Buck's queerness and definitely not about "wanting to see two white men kiss". It was about our love for Buck. We saw him happier and more fulfilled than he's ever been. We see his life being lived and full of love and stuff and joy.
Again:
We fell in love with Tommy because he made Buck fall in love with Evan.
And you know what, not matter how reductive and all the phobics that breakup was, they can never take that away from us.
#we fell in love with tommy because he made buck fall in love with evan#bucktommy#tevan#tommy kinard#evan buckley#911 abc#the writing on this episode was complete ass as far as this was concerned#honestly#911 discourse#also stay the fuck out of our tags if you dont like what were saying
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Let's get married
(a dreamnoblade one-shot)
"Let's get married" Dream almost laugh, no, he did laugh, because he thought he was joking, because who would propose in the middle of the artic, just outside a secret base of an anti government organization that had just finished a meeting, besides it didn't even sound as a proposal, so he just laugh.
But Techno didn't laugh with him. In fact, when Dream turn to look his way, Techno was holding a circular object that was also very shiny that happened to look exactly like an engagement ring.
"Oh"
-----
Life after prision break wasn't easy, but Techno was there.
Techno was there when Dream was physically able to hold a sword again.
Techno was there when he succeeded in hold a pen properly, and do readable orations instead of his usual cat scratches.
Techno hold him when the night terrors were unbearable and he live sleepless for a couple of weeks.
Techno was there when he had to empty his guts in the bathroom when he had a little too much food when his stomach wasn't able to handle it yet.
Techno was there, and even better, Techno was there for him.
So when Techno offered him a place at the syndicate table, Dream was euphoric.
Not everybody was exited to meet him at the syndicate table, but a couple of years had passed and he was unbothered, besides, the syndicate wasn't really busy, so it really was just an excuse to reunite in a calm place to chat and have some of the pastry Nikki always bake for them
It was nice.
Dream could get use to this.
And he did.
--
Dream wasn't a man of formalities in his personal life, and honestly after all the "no attachments" thing in his past he was kind of lost in the topic now. So when he and Techno past from foreign touches, to cuddles, to kisses, to straight up make out sessions and ,,, other stuff, they really didn't say much, it felt natural, maybe not really talk about it wasn't ideal, but it work for them and no one really never cuestion it, so, no need.
Dream had already sense the subtle change in their routine, they were entering a very domestic routine (more domestic that it already was), Dream could feel it, and it was nice, it was peaceful, and warm, and Dream was tired. Recovery was a very tiring process, and Dream wasn't complete heal.
He didn't think he would never be.
But it was fine.
He had Techno.
And it was very obvious right now.
Techno wasn't in his knees, Dream didn't think he could stand it if Techno kneel, but he didn't need to, because Dream was already in his horse and even if Techno was a fucking giant, Dream have to look slightly downwards to look at him from his place at the top of his horse.
Techno also wasn't offering the ring per se, he was handing it over, like it was anything but a fucking engagement ring-
"Okay, rude, you could had just say no instead of laughing at my face, but okay" Techno was teasing, Dream could hear it in his voice, but he also could hear the slight wavering, like he was insecure.
Techno was never insecure.
"N-No, wait ,,, what?" Dream tried, he did, but his brain refuse to catch up with all that was happening.
"I said, we should ,,," Techno bring the ring closer to Dream's face, again, like he was presenting anything but a ring. "We should get married"
Dream blinked,
Once,,
Twice-
"That it's the most horrible proposal I ever heard, and I have heard a few." Dream couldn't help but laugh, again, and Techno was about to retreat his hand when he lean in and put his hand over Techno's. Techno smiled.
"Okey, nerd, leave me alone, this is a full player thing I have zero knowledge about this kinda stuff in players culture." Dream couldn't help but smile
"Then you should try and do it in a way you understand it." Despite everything, Dream took the ring from Techno's hand and put it in his finger, and took his time to admire it, it was truly beautiful, Techno has put a lot of thought in it. He smile, "It's really beautiful Tech."
"I'm glad you like it" Techno took Dream's hand, and he also admire the ring in his finger, he look proud. "And now that you accept my courting, it's the first of various ornaments that I should give to you, mate." It wasn't a question, but it also wasn't a affirmation.
"Well, I think I would like to get married to you, mate."
Dream swore he had never seen Techno smile wider.
Yeah, he will be fine.
Because he had Techno.
And Techno had him.
#dreamnoblade#c!dnb#I never ever shared any of my dreamnoblade writings#I was too scared before lol#So sorry if it's a little scuffed I never got any feedback
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When my grandfather broke his hip, he was in a retirement community that he and my grandmother had specifically chosen because it would let them live independently but still have easy access to help if they needed it. So he was in his community hospital/medical center. It was a two minute drive from their house.
We went to go see after his physical therapy appointment, and he was still sitting in his hospital issue wheelchair, not the super comfortable chair that was padded and ergonomic and able to adjust to the hip angle he wanted. The bare ones, barely padded wheelchair.
We originally thought that someone had brought him back from PT and then ducked out to take care of something urgent or to find someone else to help him get into the comfy chair. That would be reasonable. Not great, but reasonable.
WRONG.
Someone had come in three hours ago, and put him in the wheelchair to go to PT, and they just LEFT him there. No one showed up to take him to PT. No one checked on him to see if he needed anything. They just left him in that fucking wheel chair, OUT OF REACH of any kind of call button and did not come back for him.
And he was so quiet and resigned about it when we said we were upset that he was treated that way. He was a doctor. My grandmother was a nurse. They both knew how fucked up that was, and he was still so quiet.
My grandmother was not. She was a force of nature who got him out back in his comfortable chair and then told every nurse who got in her way not to let that happen again.
And a week later, when his treatment had not improved to her liking, she checked him out AMA and took him home.
Where he kind of got better. He was 92 with a broken hip and pneumonia, so. That did in fact affect him for the rest of his life. But I firmly believe that the rest of his life would have been four weeks and not four years if she had not gotten him out of that hospital.
Because he had given up. And I know the broken hip and the pneumonia contributed to the giving up, but I think his treatment in the hospital made him give up more. And I am still so, so angry. That someone didn't just check on him and ask how he was doing. Or how long he had been in that wheelchair.
My grandfather has a brain thing right now that makes it hard for him to talk in more than one word sentences but he can understand people just fine and lately it’s been kinda pissing me off how many healthcare providers talk to him like he’s five years old. Like he can understand you. He can answer yes or no questions. We just told you that. You don’t have to talk about him to me like he’s not here.
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On Solas's romantic history
Okay. I know what the consensus is. That he’s way too smooth in Inquisition to be inexperienced but... (and I’m fully prepared to get shat on for this lmao don’t kill me)
When he kisses Lavellan, that doesn’t read to me like he’s super suave and seductive. It reads more like—endeared by them trying to run away after kissing him, then being so surprised by how good the kiss felt, that he grabs Lavellan, kisses them again, pulls back with a surprised look on his face, and then goes in for more. It’s touch-starved, desperate, hungry. It’s not really all that smooth because he’s literally bending them over backwards lmao like Solas can you chill maybe
He is very smooth when flirting with Lavellan, but he's also an absolute gobshite who's spent thousands of years sassing the hell out of wannabe gods so that's not a surprise. He's witty af and enjoys some back and forth.
Solas is a very lonely man. He keeps everyone at arm’s length because he’s seen what getting close to people can do to him. His biggest fear is dying alone, and he almost gives into that because it’s what he believes he deserves for all he’s done. His life has been so stressful for so long that he's almost totally unable to consider anything else but his battles. He even says explicitly that he's tired.
That doesn’t make me think of someone who was out there in Ancient Elvhenan sleeping around all those years. No doubt he considered it, but he likely didn't pursue much with anyone physical; he enjoyed spending as much time as possible in the Fade. (The banter with Blackwall doesn't count to me personally since Solas himself thinks the whole idea is preposterous, which speaks for itself really.) Especially after being a slave/servant to Mythal seems to have voided him of his agency for some time. Then he led a rebellion and fought for thousands of years against brutal tyrants. Any one of the people he was close to could’ve been trying to kill him. Lavellan, however, has no reason to do so, so he can flirt with them freely. In all that time, it seems as though the only people he allowed to get close to the real him were Felassan and Mythal. I don’t think he slept with either, because the relationship was familial. Felassan was also loyal to Mythal, but didn’t burn his vallaslin off. (Is this a right hand/left hand of the Divine parallel again? Two brothers and their mother? Idk, I need to think about that one). For creatures with bodies made from the blood of Titans, they don’t have blood families. They would’ve had to forge their own, which is what Solas did with Mythal and Felassan.
And then there’s his ‘it has been a long time’. Most have taken this to mean that it’s been a long time since he’s been intimate with someone, but given what we know now and that he spent thousands of years in the Fade while his body was in uthenera… I wonder if he’s actually saying-- ‘it has been a long time since I lived in a body’-- ie. ‘it has been a long time since I felt physical drives, a long time since I have felt so physically real’. To me, this makes a lot more sense than the ‘he’s thousands of years old he can’t possibly be a virgin/inexperienced’ take bc like... My friends. It probably didn’t feel like thousands of years to him bc he’s essentially always existed. Time is different for spirits. It’s not like he’s gonna go: ��well I’m nearly 4000y/o, better lose my v-card’. Time is no object when you are a timeless being. Then, given the path his life took, it wouldn’t make a lot of sense for him to be that experienced given how hard it is for him to trust.
I also personally headcanon him as heavily demisexual/demiromantic too. His true nature is so non-physical that the idea of him being very promiscuous or something just doesn’t fit his character. He needs a mental connection, to feel something, before sharing much of himself, or allowing himself the vulnerability intimacy brings, something he clearly feels with Lavellan based on how shaken up by it he is.
And it’s also canon that Solas has never been in love before meeting Lavellan. So. If he went however many millennia without falling in love, it’s also possible he went without intimacy for a long time too.
To be clear I’m not trying to say that this is the correct conclusion. My opinion has just changed a little since Veilguard (I used to think he was being smooth etc bc he's old af/v experienced, but with confirmation of former spirit Solas it’s changed my perspective somewhat)
Also:
‘Things have always been easier for me in the Fade’
‘I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams’ my man is shooketh guys SHOOKETH
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Wild Life spoilers below! Like, a lot of spoilers.
So, Flower Husbands and Boat Boys fans, how're we feeling?
Jimmy asking Scott to look at his butt and Scott dropping everything to comply, then saying Jimmy's butt is maybe a bit bigger than the G's base, and Jimmy going in the most flirtatious voice ever, "Aww, stop it!" Why are they like this? You all know I'm a die-hard Ranchers truther, but oh my word.
And then Etho "tough guy" Slab coming to Joel to be like, "Joel, Bdubs is bullying me, come help!" and Joel going along with it IMMEDIATELY??? He didn't even question it, just went, that tracks, and went to go bully Bdubs on Etho's behalf. Not to mention Joel seeing the bamboozlers in boats and going, "Hey, that's mine and Etho's thing! I have to go find Etho!" He's so obsessed fr. (Also, Etho coming over to warn Gem and Joel Tango was on the hunt? "Tough guy" my ass, this guy physically cannot restrain himself from being nice and also obsessed.)
Also. Can we talk about Tango real quick (least surprising thing I've ever said)? This guy. He's almost as bad as Skizz at killing! How does he EVER get as far as he does? I say this with the maximum possible amount of love in my heart, Tango is my beloved, but goodness my gracious, he's such a wet cat of a man. The poor guy is so pathetic! I'm glad he can stay smiling and having fun throughout it all though, he's such a good sport. I did genuinely believe he was about to go out of the series about three times in his episode though.
I also loved Gem trying so hard to help the reds and yellows kill her without actively letting them do it was adorable. She was genuinely proud of Mumbo when he finally got her! I love how she interacts with everyone, especially when they're trying to kill her. She's either silent in concentration, sighing in exasperation, or just straight-up giggling with glee. She's having so much fun in this series, I love it. I'm so happy for her.
I loved the way people started gunning for Grian specifically cause he made the series. They're finally rising up against the Watchers, finally taking control of their own lives and narratives. Combined with the hc that each of the wildcards are an aspect of the Watchers (I'm assuming this is something about them being outside time? Idk), and this season is building up some insane lore possibilities.
#Ashlley rambles#mine#wild Life Spoilers#Jimmy#solidaritygaming#Scott#smajor1995#flower Husbands#Etho#ethoslab#Joel#smallishbeans#gem#geminitay#tango#tangotek#Skizz#skizzleman#mumbo#mumbo jumbo#Grian#wild life smp#life series#trafficblr#trafficshipping
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What happens in Vegas... Part 2
18+ No Minors
A/N: guess who finally wrote a long fic!! Well long for me. This was going to be 3 parts but I got carried away. I still could though 😈 also, the Hugh drama with his Broadway costar came back up during this sooooo i wrote it in. Enjoy 😁
Warnings: Accidental marriage, angst, jealously, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it)
Part 1
The next few weeks have flown by quickly as you and Hugh learn more about each other and this new life you both chose to live. The four of you had to leave Vegas early due to the fact someone leaked some pictures from inside the wedding chapel and your hotel was swarmed by paparazzi.
Ryan and Blake reassured you that everything was okay and they was fine going home early because they was ready to see their kids. Even Hugh tried his best to cheer you up but it didn't last long due to the fact your publicists and both of your families were blowing your phones up with questions on your relationship.
As of right now, everybody thinks that the relationship has been under wraps for a while now and you both decided to just elope so until you're ready to discuss it, only Ryan and Blake know the actual details of what happened. Since leaving Vegas, you and Hugh decided it would be a better and safer decision to stay at your house in Colorado instead of his penthouse in New York.
Your place is secluded on a big plot of land and it's been the perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to learn about each other in a more intimate way, minus the kissing and the sex. Don't get it wrong, you want to do those things with him but you both agreed to move slow with this relationship so you're waiting on Hugh to feel comfortable enough to make the first move.
"Y/N, did you hear me?" Hugh asks taping his fork on your plate, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Sorry, I guess I zoned out. What did you say?" You look at him and see a small smile on his face. "I asked what are we going to do when it's time for me to head back to New York since you live here and I live there." He says cutting another piece of steak.
"I've been thinking about that actually and I wanted to talk it over with you. You know how I feel about living in big cities, especially New York.." Hugh nods and you continue, "Would you want to move here and we just keep your place in New York so we could visit? Or we find a house on the outskirts of New York?"
Hugh takes a deep breath and thinks it over for a moment before saying, "You're my home, darling. I will go wherever you go." You feel your heart skip a beat at his words and tears well up in your eyes. "Are you sure? I know how much you love New York." He grabs your hand and nods. "We can visit whenever we want. Since staying here with you, I've become a little spoiled by this secluded farm life you live. I love being here and I love being with you." His voice is sincere and you can't help but feel yourself falling in love with him even more.
"Hugh, I need to tell you something.." You start to say but you're interrupted by his phone going off. Hugh apologizes and answers, standing up and walking away, leaving you with your thoughts.
You almost admitted to this man that you love him and while you're sure he feels the same, you don't know if he's ready to take that step yet. One thing about Hugh Jackman, the man is a flirt with everyone. He's a very smooth talker and he is really easy on the eyes. Would he be willing to give all that up? Would he ever cheat on you when he tires of you?
While you know him as a loyal friend, you don't know him as a partner or a lover. Yes, right now he's saying he's happy with you but what happens once you both go back to work and he has to kiss a girl for a movie? Or do a sex scene with one? You know you're not the best looking woman in Hollywood but you try to at least hold the self confidence of one.
Your eyes search across the room until they land on Hugh and you can't help but admire the way his back muscles look and how his pants fit in just the right places. You need to snap out of this little crush before you wind up hurting yourself and the friendship you two have had for many years.
You're pulled out of your thoughts by Hugh walking back in the dining room, sitting back across from you with a sigh. "That was my agent. They want me to come back to New York and do a Broadway show called The Music Man." He says, looking in your eyes as if trying to see your reaction. "When do they want you to leave?" You ask, trying to be a little nonchalant but you know he can tell you're not happy. "They want me to fly out of here tomorrow and be in rehearsals the next day."
"You should go. It's a great opportunity for you." You say. "Are you sure?" Hugh's eyes widen, shocked at you giving him the opportunity to leave. "I'm not going to stand in the way of this. You love singing and I love seeing you happy. Plus, I can come stay with you once I get things settled here."
Hugh breaks out in a smile, kissing your hand softly before standing up. "Let me go pack and we will spend the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling." He runs off to pack, leaving you sitting at the table by yourself with a heavy heart.
You don't want him to go but you're not the type of person to ruin a great opportunity for anybody, especially Hugh. You just hope he doesn't find somebody else while you're both away from each other.
------
It's been about a month since you've seen Hugh. He had his first show and you was there in the front row happily supporting him but shortly after the show ended, rumors circulated that Hugh was already cheating on you with his co-star, especially after she came out saying they spend a lot of time together in her dressing room. You seen the chemistry on stage between them but you was hoping it was nothing.
Hugh has tried to call and text you for the past couple of weeks but either you've short replied him or just said you was too busy to talk.
You were hurt. You knew it, Hugh knew it, everybody knew it. Ryan and Blake have even tried calling to tell you the rumors weren't true but you just couldn't handle hearing it.
A knock on your door sounds throughout the house and you already know who it is. "Darling, please open the door." Hugh's voice is muffled by the door but you ignore it, feeling the tears well up in your eyes again.
"Baby, please. I promise you nothing happened between me and her. She's just doing it for the publicity." He says, hearing something sliding against the door as he continues, "I know things have been less than ideal with us but the past few months have been the happiest of my life and it's all because of you. I only have eyes for you, even before we got together, it was always you. Ryan used to make fun of me for how in love with you I was and that's never changed. Accidentally marrying you was the best thing I ever did and I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I love you, darling and if you don't want me here then at least tell me that you don't."
Hugh goes silent and you can't help but walk towards the window, seeing him sit with his back against the door wiping at his eyes. You open the door slightly, watching as he stands up quickly to look at you.
"I'm sorry," You whisper, looking into his eyes, "I knew this would happen the day you recieved that phone call to go back to New York. I didn't want you to go but I will never stand in the way of your career. I tried to stop myself from being happy with you, from loving you, but no matter what I do I can't help but fall in love with you even more with each passing day. I ignored you because I was scared the rumors were true and I wanted to protect myself. You're a natural flirt, you do it without even knowing majority of the time and I didn't want to make you change anything about yourself. I love you the way you are but Hugh, I don't want you giving other girls the time of day. Call me selfish, call me whatever but I want you to myself. I want to have kids with you and live on a plot of land away from the spotlight. I love you more than I ever loved anybody and it scares the shit out of me."
Your confession causes the tears to flow as Hugh steps in the house, taking your face in his hands as he wipes the tears away. "I want this. I want you." He whispers, looking down at your lips.
His lips meet yours. Your arms wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, vaguely hearing the door shut as he leads you to the living room, laying you gently on the couch as he slots himself in between your legs.
Your hands find the hem of his shirt, raising it up and over his head as his lips meet yours again, his tongue running across your bottom lip before sliding past and attacking your tongue. A moan escapes your lips,
"Do you want to stop?" He mumbles against your lips. "No." You whisper back and he quickly sits up, removing your clothes before doing the same to his. Your eyes widen, quickly remembering the last time you two had sex was when you both blacked out in Vegas, but Hugh quickly reassures you. "I'll take my time, darling. I'll be easy... today." He smirks, crouching on the ground as he spreads your legs,
Hugh admires your core, as if savoring the whole thing to memory before lowering his head and licking a stripe up your slit, running it over the little nub and teasing it. "Taste so perfect.." He murmmers, wasting no time closing his mouth down and latching onto you as if he's been starved. You gasp as his tongue worked against you with long, calculated strokes, your hand gripping his hair as if your life depended on it as his lips enclose around the sensitive little bud.
You moaned his name loudly, your back arching with each pass of his tongue as the pleasure hits in ways you've never experienced before, your head falling back against the arm of the couch.
His mouth continues it's assault, your legs trembling around him as he pulls you close to your orgasm when you feel two of his fingers slide in, his lips enclosing around your sensitive spot causing you to cry out from the pleasure. He slides a third finger in, pumping his fingers into you as your release rips through you, keeping his mouth on you as he works you through your release.
Your body trembles and you're left breathless, thighs shaking from the intensity of the moment as he sits back to look at you with the most sinister smirk you've ever seen on him. His lips glossy and his hair tousled from what just happened and he leans forward, kissing you deeply to let you taste yourself.
Hugh's hand grabs his base, rubbing the head of his erection against your entrance and you shiver from the sensitivity, moaning softly when he dips his head down towards your breast and takes a nipple in his mouth.
He presses the tip against your wet folds, sliding into you slowly as if to not hurt you. Once he bottoms out, he let's you adjust to his length and when you give him permission to move, he moves slow making each thrust hard and deep. You notice he's holding back though so you decide to remind him not to.
"Hugh," You breathe out, "I won't break.. you can fuck me." Hugh let's out a low growl, placing your legs over his shoulders as he starts pounding into you, the force causing the couch to slightly move and your fingers to dig in his forearms.
His thrusts continue to go deep as you watch his head fall back from the pleasure, his mouth slightly open and low moans fall from within. "Fuck, I knew you were made for me... your pussy was made to be all mine.." He grunts, leaning down to sloppily kiss you, pressing your knees to your chest. "I'm never letting you go after this. You own me now, baby." His voice is full of promise and you kiss him again, holding on tightly to his shoulders while he continues his hard, brutal pace.
"Hugh... I'm close.." You choke out against his lips and he smirks at you. "Come for me baby." He says angling his hips just slightly, memorizing your face as you release all over his cock, moaning softly when he hears his name fall from your lips.
He continues his pace, chasing his own release. You clenching around him pulling him closer and closer, finally releasing deep inside of you and a deep growl erupting from him. Hugh rides out both of your releases, thrusting slowly inside of you for a few minutes before finally pulling out, both of you moaning softly at the feeling.
Hugh grabs you and pulls you on top of him, holding you close as he kisses the top of your head and you play with his chest hair. "I meant it, darling. After today, you own me. I don't want anybody else." He softly says, looking down at you. "I'm all yours too. Especially after that." You say with a chuckle, causing him to chuckle to.
"Will you marry me, again?" Hugh asks and you lift your head up to look at him. "I know it's not the most romantic time but we agreed we would do a ceremony if we chose to be together. I want to marry you and say our vows, this time with us both remembering it."
"I would marry you in every lifetime." You say, kissing him softly.
For the first time since Vegas, you finally feel like everything is falling into place and you are extremely happy for the future with Hugh.
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May I add: I find it weird how Taash's gender narrative is about not being a man or a woman, but then this happens. The game shows us they don't need to pick a side, they are Taash regardless... Which could have had a cultural exploration, making it feel more cohesive with the world, mixing the Qunari ideas of gender in to help expand that side of not only their heritage, but Thedas as well.
Yet, this character all about being in the middle... Has you encouraging them to pick one side over the other. I cannot tell Taash to chose being a woman or a man, so why the fuck would I have Taash picking between Rivaini or Qunari? My Rook told them Rivaini, since I had up until that point roleplayed a Rook who did not like their mother much, but... My Rook, an elven Shadow Dragon, who I imagine as having been a slave liberated by the Dragons prior to joining them, who lives as both an elf and a Tevinter person (Tevinter, the place that is heavily prejudiced towards his species) while accepting being both, would not have them pick a side. He didn't pick one, and he had all the reasons to.
Neither would I, for the matter. Here in Portugal we have a lot of black people who immigrate from Africa in search of a better life or education (most coming from the previous Portuguese colonies). Many of them get a citizenship, or they children get one. It is considered racist and pretty conservative to say these individuals who literally come from another continent aren't Portuguese just because of their race and heritage, for they live in Portugal now and are part of our culture, even if they still carry their own. They pay taxes, participate in our festivals, eat our food, yet keep their own culture alive and in many ways share it with us. Playing that section, to me, felt like I was perpetuating these racist ideals that unfortunately are very much alive in my country. It was the first moment in this game I truly felt whiplash.
None of this to say I hate the game. I'm having a lot of fun with it. When these topics written in a poor manner are not being presented on screen, I also really enjoy Taash - they're a bit stoic and assertive but in a charming way, where they actually care about their companions and aren't just a detached cold stereotype. But the non-binary plotline of them not picking a side immediately followed by the game forcing them to pick a cultural side? Hello? Were there two writers butting heads on the writers' room?
Would you care to elaborate on how Taash's gender was handled? I don't have a way of playing the game myself, and also don't really understand your settler comment. (This is genuine, I want to understand it, but do not think I could if I just looked up the game content myself.)
I mean Weekes very clearly wrote Taash through their lens as a settler (a white person living on stolen land), and did so with ZERO consideration for the cultural aspects of Taash's story.
Like, Rook literally is forced to choose "Encourage Taash to pursue their Rivaini culture" or "Encourage Taash to pursue their Qunari heritage" in one scene for example. And the dialogue is this: "Did your mother want you to be a Qunari who happened to live in Rivain, or a Rivaini person who happened to be Qunari?" And that is such a western colonial mindset! Taash doesn't have to choose shit, Taash can have both!
But yay, Taash is non-binary, so we're supposed to pretend their gender means more than their culture, because of course the two are always separate, right? //sarcasm
#taash#datv spoilers#yeaaaaaaa that scene#ugh#datv critical#sorry if this derailed the convo feel free to ignore it#that scene reminded me of my racist uncle and I very much felt like him too#even though I picked the assimilation choice#god. who the fuck thought of that#Taash don't pick a side! unless it's a cultural one of course#god forbid you're both at once#jesus fucking christ
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So, this week's episode...
[Spoilers below cut]
save me SMG4 episode save me
(the following is my live reaction:)
moo-stache moo-stache moo-stache
why do I feel like Pedro's going to be here?
"bruh Pedro was just a one-time thing." they literally killed off Mickey, ANYTHING can happen
KAIZO YOU'RE BACK HI
OMG please tell me someone from the Team saw this fan animation and put it in the episode as a nod to the animator, that would be awesome!!!
btw great fan animation, go check it out if you haven't [link]
YAYYYY, c'mon Mario you gotta spend time with your brother :)
also I need to find a playthrough of this game while I work
whoops my hand slipped [*makes 4 say "I should've chosen the USB over you, 3"*] :)
Hey Shroomy :D ....oh *western spaghetti flashbacks*
like seriously, I can't hear that audio the same way again
helicopter helicopter (copter)
oh hey swag *he fades away* NOOOOOO
well, digging did (mostly, sorta) help the last episode
OMG HI HI HI MY SILLIES
Three, why are you here if you think it's stupid? unless... 🫵 🏳️🌈⁉️
it's giving "I'm only here to support my boyfriend's interests", like I'm starting to believe that they truly are dating behind the scenes
they're on a date, your honor 💙💜
and there they go bickering again smh /affectionate
I'd like to think that ever since Four drives a forklift, that's just his method of transportation. screw the car, we're taking this baby out for a spin :)
Mario, you need to be ✨forklift certified✨
sorry, just Three's gayass poses give me life
actually yeah why is the line not moving?
the boys :)
also that walk animation tho
HOW LONG IS THIS LINE?!
also c'mon Three, show us your dance moves :D
oooooh that editing i love that
THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING
now that they've mentioned it, why are there so many conventions happening at the same time? hmmmmm *game theory theme starts playing*
SMG3: "Maybe they're lining up to go to your mom's house. That line's usually pretty long." DAYUM THREE
"the line doesn't end" ayo wtf????
shroomy, you've eaten mushrooms before and you had no problem with that
....it really is the end of the world huh
ONE WEEK LATER?!?!?!?
"there is no end" "the end will come" me, sitting in the corner: hmmmmmmmmm
whelp, it's confirmed, I kin Four now
Three's not going coo co crazy, he's just vibin' :)
THIS IS WARRRRRR
this whole fighting scene omg it's SO good!
....WOTFI? ok no :P
AWWW THAT WAS ACTUALLY SWEET DUDE
CAN WE PLEASE GET A HUG? FOR ME SPECIFICALLY?
.... yeah uh Boopkins, you're going to have to explain what the hell you mean by that
not that it's surprising, we've been through a lot. just another Tuesday (or Saturday in this case)
MY HEART CAN'T TAKE ALL THIS FLUFF
HUG HUG HUG
THAT'S MY BOYS
RAVE PARTY [*dances*]
....sonic, is that you? sorry, my mind is still in the sonadow generations phase so I can't unsee them
:O wait, Boopkins, what did you mean by that?
MARTY?!?!? WTF
SMG4: "Don't worry, Mario. There's one way we can fix this." Beat the shit out of him...? YEAH I KNEW IT HAHA
*explodes*
and congrats to samgagmincho for your art featured at the end credits 🎉
.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.
This was a fun episode, I loved it!! Seeing my boys is always a plus and I appreciate the return of some side characters. With how the world is right now, I really needed this episode. So, thanks Team, for keeping my spirits up.
I just enjoyed watching my silly little guys doing silly little adventures. Traffic is a nightmare so I don't blame Mario in the slightest. Anyway, 3 and 4, how was your date? /silly
Can we just talk about the animation? It was so good!!! You really see the quality they put in, especially in that fighting scene. I didn't expect MARTY of all people to be the cause of all this. I honestly thought it was going to be a gag of something harmless just being in the middle of the road for no reason (like a turtle or smth) and the Crew being like "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!" but NOPE, Marty was here and apparently A SORCERER?! I really shouldn't be surprised, what am I talking about here. And ofc the OG duo immediately beating the shit out of him is so fucking funny to me. He didn't die (I know that), but he's definitely going to be more relevant in the future.
...puzzlevision 2? ok I'm sorry
SMG4 show and jokes aside, I hope you all are ok. No matter what happens, we'll stick together. Don't give them the satisfaction that they want. You aren't alone, and we'll keep on fighting.
Going to be a Sonic fan here, Sonic 06 is famously known to be... augh. But there is a good moment with Shadow that I think is relevant now:
Mephiles (the villain of the game): "It's futile. The world will betray you. Why fight at all? Why risk your life for those who will persecute you later?" Shadow: "If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight like I always have."
Take care, my dear fellows, and I'll see you all in my next post!! Hmmm, there is "no end" [*game theory intro plays*]
#smg4#smg4 spoilers#smg4 mario#smg4 luigi#smg4 smg3#smg34#like c'mon it's obvious at this point#/silly#we're SO BACK#mar4 fans are going crazy over this episode#honestly same#i got a bit serious here sooo yeah#ink reviews
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marauders do the candy trauma salad trend since I JUST saw a fantastic one for pjo (highly encourage y'all to add your versions/to this pls I don't have solid hcs of everyone) (evan's is fully me projecting btw)(a lot of them are me projecting <3).
Upon completion I want to add up here n not just the tags that these do reference various traumas/bigotry so be careful and mind what headspace ur in n all that pls take care of urselves k thanks love u.
Sirius: Hi I'm sirius and every time my mother considered something I did 'impure', like experience joy or get sorted in to gryffindor, she took my mouth away! *momentary zone out from the horrors* I brought milk duds!
Barty: bazooka bubblegum. *vid cuts* I'm barty and I hate my dad for all of the reasons you can imagine and I think it would be fun if he blew up. good?
Lily: Hi I'm Lily and after I got sent to magic school, all emotional ties with my muggle sister, who regards me as a freak, and my mother, who was more sensitive to her side, were severed. They didn't tell me when my dad died. I brought 3 musketeers.
Remus: Hi I'm remus and I got bit by a werewolf when I was 5, then my dad offed himself because of it. I brought moon pies.
James: Hi I'm James and I fell into limerence with someone and incessantly pursued them for over a year in ways that were detrimental to both of our mental states. I was so public about it I don't even need to say who it was. My mother sat me down one day and said "was it something your father and I did, something we said, that convinced you you need to beg someone to love you? to let you show them love?" and that broke something in me. We're chill now though, and I have coping techniques that work for me while still allowing me to be my expressive self, so I brought mr. goodbars.
Peter: Hi I'm peter and my animagus is literally a rat. I brought sour patch kids.
Dorcas: Hi I'm dorcas and my pureblood parents will never say it to my face but they wanted me to be a boy. To compensate I was sure to always get top marks, be well liked, and experience gender dysphoria. I burnt out before our 5th year, and learning radical acceptance in the place of trying to guess unspoken rules saved my life. I brought smarties.
Regulus: Hi I'm regulus and in order to be sure my mother didn't assassinate my brother for running away, I stayed behind in the abusive household and eventually became a deatheater to keep my cover, hunting down one bald headed bitch's horcruxes until it literally almost killed me. I think it did kill me in some lives. and I brought the starburst.
Mary: Hi I'm Mary and due to blood supremacist bigots, I have to go to school with people who want me to die just for having the audacity to exist. The muggle world is also like this. The school I go to does not matter in this scenario. I brought mentos for the salad and a bottle of soda for the show.
Evan: Hi I'm evan and my ex went on holiday to another country for 3 months, told me we could write to stay connected, they didn't, broke up with me via owl while still on said vacation, and then came to talk to me in person about that, denied that it was an active choice to disconnect from me, then tried to put the onus of any friendship to follow on just me. We haven't spoken since. Also I'm a sex positive, but also trauma affected ace, it was an open relationship, and they somehow still managed to be shady/inconsiderate about hooking up with someone on the vacation. I brought blow pops.
Pandora: Hi I'm pandora and sometimes I get prophetic dreams so vivid I can't tell when I wake up. Sometimes, though the future is not stagnant, I see my friends die :) I brought airheads.
Marlene: Hi I'm marlene and I have 5 brothers. 3 of them accept my nonbinary identity. The rest, and my parents, blatantly ignore that I use they/them pronouns. Then they told me if I don't have children as an adult I won't be worth visiting because it's my job as a pureblood to produce an heir. So I went to St. Mungos and got sterilized. I brought baby ruth candy.
Hope you enjoy! and thanks if you read them all! This was fun for me.
#yes I did look up a master doc of candy for this#tw: mental health#tw: parental abuse#tw trauma#marauders#dead gay witches#dead gay wizards#marauders fandom#sirius black#regulus black#james potter#remus lupin#barty crouch junior#evan rosier#pandora lovegood#mary macdonald#peter pettigrew#lily evans#marlene mckinnon#dorcas meadowes#candy salad trend
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