#aren't they nice?

[666writingcafe]

Checking In

Lucifer

Once my brothers are settled in for the evening, I quietly leave the House and begin walking back to the castle. I need to apologize to Diavolo for what happened a few hours ago, but more importantly, I need to see Zephyr. I haven't quite decided whether to yell at them or comfort them.

The exhausted look in their eyes as they answer the door to one of the spare bedrooms tells me that they're not in the mood for a lecture.

Normally, that doesn't stop me from giving one, but for some reason, I can't find it in me to berate Zephyr for their actions. Not even a little bit.

They walk over to the desk they have set up and start looking through various papers. I make my way over to the bed and sit on the side facing them.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" I ask.

"Can't," Zephyr answers, more focused on their work than on me.

"Can't, or won't?" They glare at me briefly. "Simply a question, Zephyr. Nothing more."

"I have to distract myself. If I don't keep myself busy, I'm going to kill Solomon."

"For calling you 'MC'?" That got their attention. They look like they're moments away from biting my head off.

"Listen, I understand why you're upset."

"Do you?" they bark angrily.

"You trusted him to keep your old identity a secret, yes?" Zephyr blinks awkwardly before closing their eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just..." Another deep breath as their eyes begin watering.

"It's okay. Take your time."

"I'll be fine." Sighing, they leave their desk and sit beside me on the bed.

"Do you want to know why I answered Diavolo's ad in the paper?" they ask me. I shrug.

"I assumed it was for the money." Zephyr shakes their head.

"I had to make the transition alone. I didn't want you guys to have the same experience I did, because it was rough."

"You weren't always a demon?" Another sigh.

"I was born human, Lucifer."

Oh. That explains a few things.

"I come from a long line of powerful and notorious sorcerers," they continue. "Everyone in my family wants to cause as much chaos as possible simply because they find it hilarious to watch people suffer. I didn't participate in any of their illegal and shady activities, obviously, but I still had a target on my back. No matter where I went in the human world, people were on the hunt for me. I was more or less a fugitive, and all because I was related to a whole bunch of criminals.

"Then one day, I met a group of demons. They were part of an organization that granted humans asylum in the Devildom. I told them my story, and they not only encouraged me to seek it out, but they also made sure that my application was approved as quickly as possible. However, that meant shedding all my ties to the human world and becoming a full-fledged demon. Shortly after I arrived here, the organization was forced to dissolve, and any evidence of its existence disappeared without a trace."

I'm not surprised something like that happened. If Diavolo is telling me the truth about his father, then I have no doubt that he had a heavy hand in annihilating that organization.

"So where does Solomon come in all this?"

"He's worked with my family over the course of my childhood. I was told he was a friend, but I learned at a very young age to not trust anyone that they liked."

"And yet you have his mark on you."

"That's because when we reconnected several years later, I learned that he was trying to become a more reputable sorcerer. Of course, I didn't believe him at first, but then I started hearing good things about him from people I did trust. Eventually, I wanted to help him with his goal, and so I agreed to enter a pact with him."

"I see."

Well, no wonder Zephyr's able to remain calm around us. We probably seem like a fucking cake walk compared to what they've been through. And having to do it all by themselves on top of it?

I feel a strange mix of emotions: sadness, anger, and...

Pride.

Which makes very little sense. How can I be proud of someone that I barely know? They're just our attendant, after all.

Or are they?

Tears threaten to spill out of Zephyr's eyes again.

I shouldn't stay here. Maybe I can flag down one of Diavolo's servants and have them get tissues or something for them.

But I have to remain professional. Who knows what would happen if I give in?

My heart beats my brain. Soon, I'm holding Zephyr in my arms as they quietly cry into my chest.

Memories of me comforting my siblings like this begin playing in my head. Is Zephyr family? They've certainly integrated quite well into ours, but that's only so that they can better assist us, right?

And yet the way they're grabbing onto me...

Eventually, they pull back, and as I let go of them, our eyes meet. For one brief yet scary moment, they look exactly like Lilith.

I lean in and kiss their forehead, for old time's sake.

But then my brain takes over again, and I'm suddenly questioning everything I just did.

"Sorry," I mumble, scrambling to get out of that room before I do something stupid again. I shouldn't be feeling this way about them. Even if they weren't born a demon, that doesn't change the fact that they've been one for much longer than me and my brothers have. I still have to lead by example, and I can't do that if I'm too busy fawning over them.

Who cares what they think? You deserve to be happy.

I'm going to need some time alone to think.

~~~

A Few Days Later

A Text Conversation

Lucifer: Are you doing okay?

Zephyr (MC): That's funny. I was about to text you the very same question.

Lucifer: Of course you were.

Zephyr: To answer your question, I'm doing better. Might even head back to the cottage soon.

Lucifer: That's good.

Lucifer: Listen, I want to properly apologize to you for what happened.

Zephyr: Which part?

Lucifer: Me running away.

Zephyr: *wide-eyed emoji*

Lucifer: What did you expect me to say, that I regretted comforting you when you needed it?

Zephyr: Kind of, yeah.

Lucifer: I know it seemed that way at the time, but I can assure you, that wasn't it at all.

Lucifer: It's taken me a bit for me to admit this, but I was scared.

Zephyr: Of?

Lucifer: My feelings.

Lucifer: The positive ones, I mean.

Zephyr: *confused sticker*

Lucifer: If it's alright with you, I'd like to get to know you more.

Zephyr: In a friendly way?

Lucifer: Something like that.

Zephyr: Lucifer...

Lucifer: Yes?

Zephyr: Why the indirect answer?

Lucifer: I'm still getting used to the idea of seeing you as more than simply an attendant. Please be patient with me.

Zephyr: Of course.

Zephyr: Are you wanting to do something low key, or do I need to find a fancy outfit?

Lucifer: *confused sticker*

Zephyr: Just trying to gauge where you're at, whether you're simply wanting to become friends or wishing for something more than that.

Lucifer: *several wide-eyed emojis*

Zephyr: Alright then. Low key it is. How about a nice stroll through one of the parks? Wear whatever makes you feel comfortable. No pressure to do anything beyond walking and talking, and you can leave whenever for whatever reason, even if it's because you're simply sick of hearing the sound of my voice droning on and on.

Lucifer: *a few laughing emojis*

Lucifer: Sounds good. Just let me know when and where.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch

[eric-the-disposable-demon]

Uh-

just found out my cousin (who lives in England) is in the art department of a bunch of shows??? And she worked oN DOCTOR WHO? AND HAD LUNCH WITH DAVID TENNANT???? and she just told me so casually because she's interested in the art, not the show? I mean, excuse me? She worked on SHERLOCK???? FOR A WHOLE SEASON?? She worked on Peaky Blinders and Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones??? And probably other things because she has a shitty memory and according to her everything is a blur?? AND AT ONE POINT SHE WAS LIKE: "oh and have you ever heard of Neil Gaiman?" And I was trying not to scream, because yes, of course I've heard of Neil, he's only my favorite author, I've only read like all of his books multiple times, and if you say you worked on Good Omens or the Sandman I'm going to lose it completely. So I said "yeah I've read a couple of his books," -you know, like a liar- "what about him?" and she goes "well I worked on one of his shows and he's brilliant i just can't remember which one" and i go "w-what do you mean he's brilliant? You're.. you're talking about his writing... his writing is brilliant, right?" And she cheerfully says "oh no I don't read books, I ment he was really nice and brilliant when I talked to him" and i go "WHAT DID YOU TALK ABOUT WHAT DID YOU TALK ABOUT" and she thinks for a moment and goes "oh! BRICKS" WHAT IN THE WORLD YES NO THAT MAKES SENSE YOU GET TO WORK AND TALK WITH NEIL FUCKING GAIMAN AND YOU TALK ABOUT BRICKS? NO THAT'S TOTALLY NORMAL I'M NOT MAD ".... it was what I was designing at the time, I needed to know what vibe the bricks should have. Anyway want to see the spinning fireplace I made for doctor who" WHAT THE FUCK.

@neil-gaiman do you remember any brick conversations by any chance

[bookshelfdreams]

yk when you see someone share a finished handmade item that they clearly spent a lot of time and money on and it's just. The absolute tackiest thing you have seen in your life. And then you ask yourself why someone would waste all those resources on such an eyesore.

(no, of course you can't relate to that because you're a much nicer person than me)

In any case.

BEHOLD!

A wool coat!

The top fabric is handwoven and handspun, the whole thing is sewn by hand, too.

Leftovers. Barely anything, all things considered, which is very satisfying.

This thing took me well over 3 years to make, on and off. And now I'm done.

Thank you for your attention.

[shopwitchvamp]

Aren't you tired of being nice?

Don’t you just wanna go full demon? 😈

Unleash your inner demon with these joggers by @vetiverfox ! Preorders are open now thru May 21st.

🖤witchvamp.com🖤

[hajihiko]

It runs in the family

[sevenlersiniz]

You turn on the light.

[elitisim]

FADES WAVES AND TAPERS -CONVERSION COLLECTION

So I recently reached 500 followers, which is like CRAZY because I've only been posting content for a month?! The overwhelming amount of love and support I've received over the past month has made me misty-eyed on more than one occasion, ngl. Y'all have been so sweet and so wonderful and so extremely encouraging, I'm so proud to be part of this community💙! So, as a little thank-you present for everyone and as a nice end-cap for all the black male hair spam I did for Black History Month I've decided to drop a conversion collection of 21 male hairs themed around waves, fades and tapers for y'all!

Thank you so much everyone!

INFO:

None of this is my original work! All credit goes to @ceeproductions, @estrojans, @hellagoodsims,@xxblacksims, @xldsims, @pralinesims, & @mathcopesims.

Set contains 21 hairs for for Teen ➤ Elder Males

all of these hairs are gameplay safe! most of them are around 500 polys, the largest ones clock in at about 5k poly at most.

1024x textures

hairs are too short for root/tip controls so they're only 2 channels

credits, preview pictures, links to originals, poly counts and individual download links for every hair is under the cut.

these are meshes! the hair is NOT painted on the sims head like BG hairs!

but on the brightside that means they don't get that shiny look painted on hairs have.

some hairs have slight clipping issues around the temples but hopefully nothing too crazy tbh.

Tagging: @pis3update, @naturalhair-sims3, @xto3conversionsfinds, @kpccfinds

[DOWNLOAD MERGED]

[DOWNLOAD UNMERGED]

[PICK AND CHOOSE]

CREDITS:

@ceeproductions: Taper Fade // 1.9k Poly // [Download Here] @estrojans: Sharp Waves Redux Curve // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Afro Short // 4.3k Poly // [Download Here]

@estrojans:: Sharp Waves Redux: Temp Fade// 500 Poly// [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Brian Waves// 4.3k Poly // [Download Here] @estrojans: Sharp Waves Redux// 500 Poly // [Download Here]

@estrojans: Sharp Waves Redux: Flame Design// 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Amaru Fade// 2.1k Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: AD Taper Fade // 5.1k Poly // [Download Here]

@hellagoodsims: Caesar Fade / /500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Taper with Long Part //500 Poly// [Download Here] @mathcopesims: Kevin Hair / 500 Poly// [Download Here]

@hellagoodsims: Korey Fade // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: PG-15 Waves // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: PG-13 Waves // 500 Poly // [Download Here]

@hellagoodsims: Wolverine Claw Fade // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: PG-14 Waves // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Lance 720 Waves // 500 Poly // [Download Here]

@pralinesims: Nonstop Buzzcut // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @xxblacksims: Waves on Swim // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @xldsims: The Vindicator // 2.5k Poly // [Download Here]

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 1

these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to

unrelated snippet nr 2, unrelated snippet nr 3(?)

“Thank you, young man,” elderly man, a civilian, said to Phantom, squeezing his shoulder when the boy transported him away from the battle into an established safe zone. Hero froze for a moment, blinking rapidly.

“You’re… welcome?” he squeaked and flew back to fight the first chance he got, still dazed.

He was lost in thought the whole time he worked after that, rescuing some teen girls too curious, brave and stupid to run away on their own when they still had a chance. If Kid Flash didn’t warn him, one of the goons would land a really nasty hit, which should not have happened. Phantom had one of the best combat spatial awareness out of all of them. He couldn’t always react in time, but it almost never escaped him that an attack was coming.

Something was wrong. Really wrong.

That was why, as soon as the fight was over,  Kaldur approached his teammate. He saw Robin doing the same.

Phantom, to give him credit where credit is due, didn’t fly away from the scene first given chance like always. Instead he sat in the space where they were transporting civilians, hand on his right shoulder, unseeing eyes locked on some cracks in the pavement. His mouth was moving without making a sound. He was covered in dust, like all of them.

“Phantom,” Kaldur asked through Mindlink “are you injured?”

Ghost flinched and turned his head, giving the leader a shaky smile. His eyes were still distant.

“Yeah, no, I’m alright. Sorry I was so out of it. Thanks for the rescue Wally, "the boy replied but his eyes slowly turned back to where he was staring before. Other than that, he hadn't moved.

“Phantom, what’s wrong?” Robin tried, both out loud and through Mindlink. Now the whole Team was concerned.

“It's nothing, really,” Phantom answered with a distant tone.“ Just… something weird happen and I need a moment to wrap my head around it”

“What was it?” Artemis asked bluntly before Conner did the Mindlink equivalent of smack on the back of a head. It was a bit weird to see Conner as the sensitive one. Black Canary was doing a great job with helping him over his anger.

“Let him process it on his own before you demand answers,” he growled.

“Adult civilian thanked me,” the ghost mumbled with awe at the same time. For a moment everyone froze in muted shock.

This explained so much while being so confusing. Yes, civilians tended to do it. It felt great. It didn’t warrant such an intense reaction.

“That's nice,” M’gann sent carefully after a long moment.

“Mhm… Really nice”

Kaldur slowly put a hand on the arm Phantom wasn’t holding, to help ground him a bit. Despite his efforts, the ghost flinched under his touch.

“We need to go to a bioship and back to the Mountain. You should probably come with us”

He expected a fight, he had various ideas how to convince younger boy but instead he heard quiet, small “Sure”

Ghost didn’t move for a long moment.

“Phantom?” Robin asked and again, the response was a violent flinch.

“Sorry, sorry. I know it’s dumb I’m just-” he transmitted some sort of lowering melody that Kaldur didn’t know “-right now”

“Did you just send Windows XP shutting down noise?!” Wally yelled, exasperated. 

“He did,” Robin snorted. Artemis laughed from one of the surrounding rooftops.

Phantom’s lips twitched with a minimal smile but it disappeared before it fully set. His brows furrowed as he stood up, shrugging Kaldur’s hand off in the process.

“Is this publicly known that I’m a ghost? Like, outside Amity? Or do people just assume I’m a meta?”

“Around 3% of discourse about you is ‘alive or not’-”Robin stated after few seconds of searching n his wrist computer “-with people saying stuff like ‘I’ve seen him breathe’ but everyone else responds with some variation of ‘Are you really going to tell kid how he’s supposed to cope with being dead? Really Jared?’ and the general consensus is that you are in fact a ghost. More people wonder what pronounce you use. Why?”

Phantom said nothing. Kaldur exchanged worried glances with Robin and called everyone else to meet by the bioship. It was a successful but tiring mission and they all wanted nothing more than to relax. After debrief because of course Batman would find things that could’ve gone better.

M’gann and Wally were already waiting by the time they got there. Martian was stiff and looked like she was focusing on some really hard task. She almost shut down the Mindlink.

“Phantom, your thoughts are really loud” she whispered out loud “Louder than normal ghost thoughts. I’m trying not to listen or to transmit it on Mindlink but it’s pretty hard. What’s wrong?”

Kaldur remembered the conversation they all had almost right after Phantom joined the Team. As it turned out, ghosts as ‘the beings of emotions’ had thoughts that Martians could read but on different frequencies than living, whatever that meant, and they were really loud. Like they were screaming on the top of their lungs.

Asphalt creaked ominously when Conner jumped down to join them.

“Sorry”

M’gann relaxed minutely before she got visibly angry.

“I don’t mean ‘shield everything’ Phantom, it’s extremely unhealthy, explain what’s wrong?!”

“Seriously guys, you’re all overreacting. It’s not that deep.  I'm just weirded out a bit”

“Your brain was screaming ‘It doesn’t make sense!’ on repeat” M’gann pointed out dryly, ending the Mindlink and motioned them inside the bioship right after Artemis scrambled down a fire escape and joined them.

Phantom skillfully ignored the concerned gazes of every member of the Team other than M’gann who at least pretended to focus on flying. He looked like he was trying to figure out some really complicated puzzle.

“What did this civilian say, exactly?” Robin asked, breaking the silence with a surprising amount of caution in his voice.

“He said ‘Thank you, young man’ and squeezed my shoulder,“ the ghost explained with a wistful and a bit hazy smile. It still didn't justify such an intense reaction “I can still feel it. T’was nice. Not strong enough to hurt but… sure? I didn’t do anything, really, and he most likely knows I'm a ghost, but he thanked me anyway. No sense”

Halfway through Robin seemed to get an idea and once again started typing away on his computer. Phantom sunk into his seat more comfortably, but he quickly returned to distressed overthinking.

“People rarely make sense,” Conner pointed out.

“Nah, you just can't people yet” Wally grinned between bites of his granola bar.

“Nah, you're just an extrovert with superpowers. People make no sense,” Artemis decided in a way that ended all arguments “But gratitude after rescue is pretty typical…”

“Not for Phantom“

“What do you mean, Robin?”

“He means, I'm a ghost, Kaldur,” Phantom started “Of course they're not thanking me. I'm an ‘odd,  manipulative and evil manifestation of post-living consciousness on ectoplasm‘ and ‘always hostile towards living but lack the sentience to comprehend moral aspects of my behavior‘ and ‘should be eradicated for betterment of the living realm’.” he recited almost cheerfully and it made something in Kaldur’s stomach twist. Judging by their faces, his teammates felt the same way.

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” M’gann asked carefully.

“It doesn’t matter if I believe this or not. They do. Why would anyone thank me? Especially an adult. Teens apparently decided I'm hot so they support me, which is also weird, and kids think I'm cool because of the ectoblasts and can fly. They usually gush about being saved like ‘omg it’s Phantom’ which is still weird but not as surreal as anyone actually thanking. But that dude was probably on retirement. He wasn’t someone I would expect to have any positive interaction with. Most people his age would try to exorcize me or something”

“That certainly isn’t an aster”

“Eh, I’m fine. Most are just yelling. Problems start when anti-ghost weapons, especially guns, get on the table but I can’t blame them for that one too”

“Dude, I cannot express how far from fine this is”

“You deserve gratitude Phantom” Kaldur added “You’re doing a lot of great work”

“If you say so”

“Also, can we go back to the guns? How often do the people you’re saving try to shoot you?” Artemis asked, raising her head from inspecting her arrows.

“Amity Park is to ghost hunters what Gotham is to crime rates in the USA. Should not be counted if you want something actually similar to reality. Of course they have guns to shoot ghosts. And, let me remind you, I am a ghost-”

“I think we can talk about it another time. How do you feel, Phantom?” M’gann interrupted from her seat, intensly not looking back at them. She once again was tense.

“Still weird as hell to be honest”

“Good weird or bad weird” she pressed on. Kaldur kinda wanted to know what made her do that.

“Good… I think? I know a lot of emotions because I hang out with Jazz Fenton and she pshychoanalizes everyone but I have no idea what to call this. I’m happy that he said this, ecstatic even. But I’m still confused and cautious. Some part of me keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this man to come back, after realizing I’m evil ghost and call hunters and call me manipulative ecto-scum while looking me in the eyes and smile when I’m shot at”

“Did this happen? It’s a bit too specific to believe it didn’t” Wally announced.

“As if only once!” Phantom laughed in an almost hysterical way.

“Don’t think about it right now,” M’gann demanded “Do you want to tell us more about the thanks you got?”

Next words Phantom whispered as if he was sharing some important, sacred secret.

“When he squeezed my arm, it was such a gentle gesture. Such a gentle touch” he sounded on the verge of tears. 

“Was it?”

“Yeah... Sorry I’m such a mess over it” ghost muttered after a moment, trying to dry his face with his sleeve. It couldn’t be too helpful nor pleasant, considering his uniform was made mostly out of rubber.

“That’s alright”

“He was so kind and like… cautious too, y’know? Like he cared to not hurt me. When my dad pats me on the back, I’m left out of breath and have to do a few steps to not fall face first on the ground and he thinks I’m normal,” it was always a bit disturbing to hear Phantom talk about his family in present tense. They never mentioned it because they knew when it was bad idea to say something but it didn’t make these instances any less unnerving“And this random civilian seen me as Phantom, almost invulnerable and powerful ghost and chose to be gentle”

Nobody mentioned tears dropping from Phantom’s eyes and down his chin.

“That sounds nice” 

“It was. And I, like an idiot, stuttered ‘you're welcome’ and escaped as soon as I could” ghost grumbled, bringing himself back from the memory. Robin actually laughed, honest and open instead of the creepy giggle he used on all sorts of villains. Everyone else soon joined and between breaths someone choked out:

“I did this so many times. So many. I could probably buy a lollipop if I got a cent every time I did it. Maybe even two”

As soon as they weren’t at immediate risk of laughing to death Robin decided to risk it again by starting a captivating tale of clueless Batman holding a baby, getting pie as a present, getting pie in his face and few others.

When he finished, the comfortable type of silence stretched through the Bioship. Everyone was just contently resting, maybe even taking a nap before the ordeal of listening to Batman's ‘Every mistake you made today with sub and sub-sub categories’ lecture while keeping themselves from laughing after all the stories Robin just shared. Kaldur himself was almost asleep when Phantom whispered:

“Is it this nice the second time too?”

“Yeah. It’s even better when you start believing it”

[cozylittleartblog]

noodle stopper figures are SO cute 💙

[deliveryboys]

i think my favorite "raditz-gets-brought-back-somehow" au is the idea that he accidentally gets brought back when goten is a kid and while everyone else is understandably wary given the last time he was around (even if they're no longer afraid of him because EVERYONE is a million times stronger than him) goten latches onto him like a goddamn leech. constantly hanging from his hair and poking at him and following him around and whatnot. calls him "mr. radish" that eventually changes to "uncle radish" when someone finally tells him his relation to goku. raditz is NOT happy about this at ALL but he really can't do anything because goten is a fucking super saiyan and could annihilate raditz with his pinky finger. so he just has to deal with it. and eventually things sort of smooth out and raditz becomes goten's weird gruff uncle that just kind of sits there while goten crawls all over him and gets all bristly when someone accuses him of caring about another person. and i say he's goten's uncle specifically because i think if he and gohan come within 50 feet of each other gohan goes mystic and stands there radiating the world's most tangible rage until raditz fucking skedaddles. gohan's gentle heart vs. the fact that raditz was quite literally the domino that triggered the absolute horror that was his childhood FIGHT

[always-a-king-or-queen]

The ache will go away, eventually. 

That was what the Professor told them, the day they got back. When they tumbled from the wardrobe in a heap of tangled limbs, and found that the world had been torn from under their feet with all the kindness of a serpent. 

They picked themselves off of the floorboards with smiles plastered on child faces, and sat with the Professor in his study drinking cup after cup of tea. 

But the smiles were fake. The tea was like ash on their tongues. And when they went to bed that night, none of them could sleep in beds that were too foreign, in bodies that had not been their own for years. Instead they grouped into one room and sat on the floor and whispered, late into the night. 

When morning came, Mrs. Macready discovered the four of them asleep in Peter and Edmund’s bedroom, tangled in a heap of pillows and blankets with their arms looped across one another. They woke a few moments after her entry and seemed confused, lost even, staring around the room with pale faces, eyes raking over each framed painting on the wall and across every bit of furniture as if it was foreign to them. “Come to breakfast,” Mrs. Macready said as she turned to go, but inside she wondered. 

For the children’s faces had held the same sadness that she saw sometimes in the Professor’s. A yearning, a shock, a numbness, as if their very hearts had been ripped from their chests.

At breakfast Lucy sat huddled between her brothers, wrapped in a shawl that was much too big for her as she warmed her hands around a mug of hot chocolate. Edmund fidgeted in his seat and kept reaching up to his hair as if to feel for something that was no longer there. Susan pushed her food idly around on her plate with her fork and hummed a strange melody under her breath. And Peter folded his hands beneath his chin and stared at the wall with eyes that seemed much too old for his face. 

It chilled Mrs. Macready to see their silence, their strangeness, when only yesterday they had been running all over the house, pounding through the halls, shouting and laughing in the bedrooms. It was as if something, something terrible and mysterious and lengthy, had occurred yesterday, but surely that could not be. 

She remarked upon it to the Professor, but he only smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “They’ll be all right,” he said, but she wasn’t so sure. 

They seemed so lost. 

Lucy disappeared into one of the rooms later that day, a room that Mrs. Macready knew was bare save for an old wardrobe of the professor’s. She couldn’t imagine what the child would want to go in there for, but children were strange and perhaps she was just playing some game. When Lucy came out again a few minutes later, sobbing and stumbling back down the hall with her hair askew, Mrs. Macready tried to console her, but Lucy found no comfort in her arms. “It wasn’t there,” she kept saying, inconsolable, and wouldn’t stop crying until her siblings came and gathered her in their arms and said in soothing voices, “Perhaps we’ll go back someday, Lu.” 

Go back where, Mrs. Macready wondered? She stepped into the room Lucy had been in later on in the evening and looked around, but there was nothing but dust and an empty space where coats used to hang in the wardrobe. The children must have taken them recently and forgotten to return them, not that it really mattered. They were so old and musty and the Professor had probably forgotten them long ago. But what could have made the child cry so? Try as she might, Mrs. Macready could find no answer, and she left the room dissatisfied and covered in dust. 

Lucy and Edmund and Peter and Susan took tea in the Professor’s room again that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. They slept in Peter and Edmund’s room, then Susan and Lucy’s, then Peter and Edmund’s again and so on, swapping every night till Mrs. Macready wondered how they could possibly get any sleep. The floor couldn’t be comfortable, but it was where she found them, morning after morning. 

Each morning they looked sadder than before, and breakfast was silent. Each afternoon Lucy went into the room with the wardrobe, carrying a little lion figurine Edmund had carved her, and came out crying a little while later. And then one day she didn’t, and went wandering in the woods and fields around the Professor’s house instead. She came back with grassy fingers and a scratch on one cheek and a crown of flowers on her head, but she seemed content. Happy, even. Mrs. Macready heard her singing to herself in a language she’d never heard before as Lucy skipped past her in the hall, leaving flower petals on the floor in her wake. Mrs. Macready couldn’t bring herself to tell the child to pick them up, and instead just left them where they were. 

More days and nights went by. One day it was Peter who went into the room with the wardrobe, bringing with him an old cloak of the Professor’s, and he was gone for quite a while. Thirty or forty minutes, Mrs. Macready would guess. When he came out, his shoulders were straighter and his chin lifted higher, but tears were dried upon his cheeks and his eyes were frightening. Noble and fierce, like the eyes of a king. The cloak still hung about his shoulders and made him seem almost like an adult. 

Peter never went into the wardrobe room again, but Susan did, a few weeks later. She took a dried flower crown inside with her and sat in there at least an hour, and when she came out her hair was so elaborately braided that Mrs. Macready wondered where on earth she had learned it. The flower crown was perched atop her head as she went back down the hall, and she walked so gracefully that she seemed to be floating on the air itself. In spite of her red eyes, she smiled, and seemed content to wander the mansion afterwards, reading or sketching or making delicate jewelry out of little pebbles and dried flowers Lucy brought her from the woods. 

More weeks went by. The children still took tea in the Professor’s study on occasion, but not as often as before. Lucy now went on her daily walks outdoors, and sometimes Peter or Susan, or both of them at once, accompanied her. Edmund stayed upstairs for the most part, reading or writing, keeping quiet and looking paler and sadder by the day. 

Finally he, too, went into the wardrobe room. 

He stayed for hours, hours upon hours. He took nothing in save for a wooden sword he had carved from a stick Lucy brought him from outside, and he didn’t come out again. The shadows lengthened across the hall and the sun sank lower in the sky and finally Mrs. Macready made herself speak quietly to Peter as the boy came out of the Professor’s study. “Your brother has been gone for hours,” she told him crisply, but she was privately alarmed, because Peter’s face shifted into panic and he disappeared upstairs without a word. 

Mrs. Macready followed him silently after around thirty minutes and pressed an ear to the door of the wardrobe room. Voices drifted from beyond. Edmund’s and Peter’s, yes, but she could also hear the soft tones of Lucy and Susan. 

“Why did he send us back?” Edmund was saying. It sounded as if he had been crying.  

Mrs. Macready couldn’t catch the answer, but when the siblings trickled out of the room an hour later, Edmund’s wooden sword was missing, and the flower crown Susan had been wearing lately was gone, and Peter no longer had his old cloak, and Lucy wasn’t carrying her lion figurine, and the four of them had clasped hands and sad, but smiling, faces. 

Mrs. Macready slipped into the room once they were gone and opened the wardrobe, and there at the bottom were the sword and the crown and the cloak and the lion. An offering of sorts, almost, or perhaps just items left there for future use, for whenever they next went into the wardrobe room.  

But they never did, and one day they were gone for good, off home, and the mansion was silent again. And it had been a long time since that morning that Mrs. Macready had found them all piled together in one bedroom, but ever since then they hadn’t quite been children, and she wanted to know why.

She climbed the steps again to the floor of the house where the old wardrobe was, and then went into the room and crossed the floor to the opposite wall. 

When she pulled the wardrobe door open, the four items the Pevensie children had left inside of it were missing. 

And just for a moment, it seemed to her that a cool gust of air brushed her face, coming from the darkness beyond where the missing coats used to hang.

[lazylittledragon]

what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?

it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".

i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.

the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.

it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.

tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.

[inamindfarfaraway]

I would find Blondie Lockes very annoying in real life, but I love her in fiction. She's a genuinely good journalist in terms of both skill and ethical integrity, who only occasionally forgets to check the facts because she's fifteen and holds herself accountable when she does. She has incredibly high standards for everything and believes herself to be the ultimate authority on quality. She has magical lockpicking powers because her fairytale is about Goldilocks breaking into a house. She somehow completely ignores the story's moral that Goldilocks was wrong to break into the house, feels entitled to go wherever and help herself to whatever she's able to and cannot comprehend why people dislike this. She's been terrorizing an anthropomorphic bear family with her cheerful disrespect for privacy and is convinced that they love her. She has a non-anthropomorphic pet baby bear. Her motivation is dependence on external approval rooted in deeply internalized classism. She's desperate to be useful and important to those with higher social status and feels the need to lie that her family is technically royalty to fit in with her royal friends, even though they treat commoners like equals all the time. She positions herself as a conduit of true greatness; closer to it than the masses, but never the hero, always reporting on other people and evaluating what they've done. Because what she's done isn't enough to be worthwhile. What she is isn't enough. But this performative lifestyle makes her anxious about being judged as a fraud and an interloper, and ashamed of selfishly transgressing against social norms. Her microphone head looks like an adorable little bear head. That's one hex of a character alright.

[acornered]

ANYWAY LOOK AT THESE FLOWERS @passionpeachy SENT ME TO CHEER ME UP AFTER A COUPLE ROUGH DAYS!! I AM SO IN LOVE!!!

[rev-velvet]

I find it extremely funny that Craig and Octavio are running a booth together at Grand Fest. Like you KNOW Octavio was probably like "Look your granddaughters and my grandchildren former soldiers are all here to have a good time. So truce." And then they get to old man gossiping and then maybe some reminiscing about before the war and their past friendship and words left unsaid and and and

[some-pers0n]

One thing about WoF I really love is the variety of female characters and their roles in the books. Like they feel distinctive from each other and their characters and personalities are treated with a lot of respect and care. Like the books certainly don't feel like they're misogynistic or reduce the female characters down to basic stereotypes in order to focus on the cooler, much more developed male characters