#household power monitor

[energypowersaver]

Energy Efficient Appliances Australia

When you buy new appliances, make sure to check the energy rating labels. These tell you how much electricity they use and how efficient they are compared to similar products.

Buying energy efficient equipment can save you money in the long run, and help reduce peak electricity demand. Upgrading to more energy efficient appliances also helps reduce our carbon footprint. To know more about Energy Efficient Appliances, visit the Energy Power Saver website or call 69650912468.

The Energy Power Saver is a government and industry initiative that helps consumers make more informed decisions when buying appliances. The label combines star ratings and energy consumption figures to give you an idea of how much electricity a model uses, and how it compares to other similar models.

The star rating shows how efficient a product is, and the higher the stars, the better it is. The number of stars is used to compare a range of appliances - from TVs and fridges to dishwashers, dryers and air conditioners.

In Australia, most new washing machines, dryers, dishwashers and TVs carry a label with a star rating between 1 to 6 stars. However, as technology improves, more efficient appliances can be given an extra row of stars, ranging from 10 to 10.

For example, a new air conditioning system can have as many as 10 stars, making it more energy-efficient than an older model with just one star.

The energy consumption figure on the label indicates how much power (in kilowatt-hours) an appliance uses each year. This figure can help you to calculate how much a model will cost to run over its lifetime, and how that relates to the power price you pay (tariff).

Choosing energy efficient appliances can help you save money on your power bill. The Energy Rating Calculator helps you to work out how much it costs to run a particular appliance. This includes its purchase price and the amount of energy it uses over its lifetime (assumed at 10 years).

New appliances must display an Energy Rating Label. The labels are easy to read and show how much electricity a product uses per year.

These ratings are displayed on a 6 or 10-star scale, with one star representing the least efficient model and ten stars the most efficient. They also show the annual energy consumption of each model compared to similar models.

The Australian Government requires appliances to meet minimum energy performance standards (MEPS). These set efficiency levels that have been proven to be effective in reducing power usage and emissions.

Some of the more popular and convenient appliances you can find with an Energy Rating Label include washing machines, heaters and air conditioners. A new Zoned Energy Rating Label for domestic single phase non-ducted air conditioners also enables you to choose the most energy efficient model for your region.

Water efficiency labels are also available for some products, including dishwashers and clothes washing machines. These labels are based on the number of stars a product has and can help you save thousands of litres of water a year.

If you’re a supplier, retailer or plumber you must comply with the Water Efficiency Labelling and Standards in Australia (WELS). This law requires you to register your products and display water rating information to make consumers aware of their water efficiency.

WELS aims to reduce water use by encouraging consumers to buy products with higher water efficiency ratings and lower water bills. The scheme is a cooperative legislative arrangement between the Commonwealth, states and territories.

Consumers can make quick comparative assessments of water efficiency by viewing a WELS label which shows a zero to six star rating. The higher the star rating, the more water efficient the product is.

Currently, WELS-rated products save householders and businesses on their utility bills. It is estimated that the savings will increase to $2.6 billion per year by 2036. To know more about Energy Efficient Appliances, visit the Energy Power Saver website or call 69650912468.

Compliance with WELS is a requirement for all suppliers, retailers, plumbers, builders and developers who offer, sell or install WELS-rated products. This includes WELS-rated showers, taps (excluding over a bath), flow controllers, toilets, urinals, dishwashers and combination washer dryers.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Sorry to my inbox, I know I have messages to respond to, unfortunately my state is currently under water and I have family and friends and neighbors I'm trying to locate and help atm. If you see me on here it's not because I'm here, it's because I'm trying to get five fucking minutes where my head isn't just airraid sirens

Much love to all, we are all just doing our best to survive ❤️💚

[radiance1]

So, Ghost Prince Danny. Except that he also, ALSO, is Damian's younger twin brother who was sent to keep an eye on the Fentons because of their discovery of a substance that looked like Lazarus Water yet isn't Lazarus water.

In truth, it was really just Talia's way of getting Danny out of the way because he lost against Damian in the battle of heirs (No Danny did not hold back, Damian was just better than him) and she didn't want him dead so that was the next best thing.

Danny does pop up in the League at odd times, mostly to report about the research done by the Fentons. When he became half dead he's around a lot more, mostly to be monitored for his unique condition (somehow someway they don't know about Vlad) and because Danny can just come and go as he pleases cause ghost powers.

So, Danny gives Damian a flute that he handcrafted himself as a birthday present because really, what can he buy that Damian himself couldn't? Also, because he didn't actually want to spend money on his older brother.

They're brothers, but they don't have the most cordial relationship. They don't hate each other, but they don't like each other either.

So, Damian takes this flute and is like: "Fuck you gimmie this for I don't need this shit."

And then Danny is like: "Just take the gift you stupid ahh fruitloop."

So, Damian takes it while berating that Danny would give him something as stupid as this, but then does a full one 180 by keeping the thing on his person at all times.

Not that Danny knows that, really.

So, cut forth to Damian being known by Batman and taken in. Trying to kill Tim and being an overall little shit, I can see one of the Batfam coming across this flute just, randomly really, and then Damian is fucking pissed that they dared to touch it and then takes it back.

Leaving basically everyone stumped over the significance this random ahh wooden flute has but decides not to touch that landmine.

So then the Batfam don't know that Damian has a half sibling (Danny came from Jack and Talia, so he isn't blood related to Bruce but is to Damian) running around out there and Damian isn't gonna say anything and you already know Talia isn't since Danny AIN'T his kid.

Plus, he got a job to do that being with Bruce Wayne would make harder.

So then Damian becomes robin an allat, then the entire Batfam pull up to the Justice League for some big threat and then both Constantine and Zatanna are like: Yo why do you kid carry round an item drenched heavily in death energy to the extreme

Batman is obviously like: Excuse me?

Damian, meanwhile, just does not give a fuck about the flute given to him by his half-brother on his birthday is apparently drenched in death energy to the extreme because that is his and he isn't going to just give it up.

So then one way or another Damian ends up playing it, maybe he was told to play it by both Batman and Constantine just to make sure it isn't actually anything dangerous or whatever and also because Damian wouldn't let anyone else hold it, let alone play it.

Which Damian smirks at because he's played it before and literally nothing happened aside from very good music, but Damian hasn't played it since he came to the Wayne household and has missed it. So he reminisces over how he got it, thinking of his half-brother and their relationship.

He plays it, but this time, since he genuinely thought about Danny death energy just condenses in waves. Damian couldn't see it since he was too focused on playing and reminiscing, everyone isn't really that calm and tries to get him to stop but the death energy blocks them.

Then a summoning circle appears in front of Damian and Constantine recognizes it as being from the Infinite Realms category and it seemed to be a high-level summon circle too so he's like: Well fuck.

Then, contrary to their expectations of some eldritch abomination, it's just Danny. Who, fun fact, was in the middle of his coronation as prince and such, dripped out in royal wear.

Safe to say, Constatine goes: Well double fuck.

The tension is just broken, as all Danny does is cry. Like, genuinely, he just cries because Damian still kept his flute that he made, he genuinely thought the guy just threw it away since he hated it so much.

Danny: Ancients, my big brother actually liked what I made this is making me emotional.

Damian: Why the hell are you crying this thing is still trash btw.

Danny: Yea whatever you say big bro, you love it.

Batman: What do you mean big brother?

Danny: Who in the hell is that-

Damian: Right, I never told him about you.

[optiblog]

OPTİVİSER - GOLD

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Laptop Recommendation

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Additionally, if you're looking for a laptop that can handle multitasking effortlessly, we suggest models equipped with the latest processors and ample RAM. Our detailed Laptop Recommendation section on Optiviser.com includes expert reviews and user feedback to help you choose a laptop that not only fits your budget but also meets your specific requirements.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Kalim Al-Asim - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

­­­­[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Kalim: Woah! I've seen this artist's work before. I think we have a bunch of their stuff on the walls back home.

Kalim: So, the Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art's gottem on display too, huh. Hehe, that's pretty neat!

Vil: Oh, this… I think this is a painting of the moment when the beloved princess and the impoverished, yet kindhearted young man were set to be married.

Kalim: Yeah, that's right! The guy on the left is the sultan, and…

Kalim: Just so the princess could marry who she wanted, he went and changed the law for her.

Vil: Oh, hello, Kalim. I wasn't expecting you to know the particular details of the tale.

Kalim: The attendants back home would read me books with their stories. I really like the ones that have happy endings!

Kalim: Oh yeah, and did you know? The sultan here loved to collect miniature models.

Kalim: In his room, he had carriages large enough even a kid could ride in it, and statues of horses with wings…

Kalim: He even had a model of the royal palace! Apparently he'd always be playing with it.

Vil: Mhmm. Quite the childish hobby for a country's ruler to have.

Kalim: Oh, is playing with models childish? I'm always playing with mine whenever I go back home.

Kalim: Once, I mentioned to my dad I was curious what our home looked like from above, y'see.

Kalim: So then, he went and made a miniature model of our whole estate and a special room to put it in.

Vil: He made something like that just because you asked one thing… I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less from the Asim family.

Vil: But if it had its own room… How big was this model, anyway?

Kalim: Uhhh… I think at first, it was about the size of a magic carpet.

Kalim: Back then, it was just the estate buildings, but before I knew it, the land had been tacked on as well.

Kalim: And every time we added to the house, the model got an addition too, so it just got bigger and bigger.

Kalim: Whenever we'd buy new furniture, the stuff in my room, or my siblings' rooms would move around and change, too…

Kalim: There was always some kind of change whenever I looked into it. Sometimes I really couldn't tell what changed, though. Ahahah!

Vil: Even your furniture is a part of the model? Well, isn't that ridiculously elaborate…

Kalim: Yeah! That model is super awesome! The small clocks and furniture actually function, and…

Kalim: The roof and the walls of the model are made of the same stuff as our actual home, so it looks just like it.

Kalim: Water'll actually come out of the marble fountains, and even the trees and lawn are apparently made of real moss.

Kalim: Anyway, since it's a perfect replica of my real home, it really lets me feel like I'm a giant!

Kalim: Oh yeah. And on the ceiling of the room with the model, there are monitors and sprinklers…

Kalim: So night can turn into day, or it can rain or whatever.

Kalim: If the switch next to the model is pressed while in nighttime mode, the whole model lights up and it's so pretty!

Kalim: Also, we'd get miniature elephants and camels on parade…

Vil: Enough already! You've already convinced me just how special your personal miniature model is!

­­­­[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Vil: This is a painting of the Lord of the Underworld and his men.

Vil: From what I hear, the Lord of the Underworld's subordinates had the power to change their form and voice at well, and even could take on the appearance of children.

Kalim: Woah～ They must've been amazing. Oh, that reminds me, I once turned myself into an adult, y'know.

Vil: You turned yourself into an adult…? Do you mean you disguised yourself as one?

Kalim: Yeah! When I was little, my family and I went to go see a play and there was this one scene where a ruler dressed up like one of his servants.

Kalim: I wanted to try the dame thing, so that night after the play, I put my plan into action.

Kalim: Like, if I were to wear the household attendant's clothes and wear shoes with bigger soles, I'd look just like an adult, right?

Kalim: And then I even put on a huge hat and covered my face with sunglasses, too.

Vil: You really seem proud of yourself… And you're saying no one realized it was you?

Kalim: YEAH, IT WAS A PERFECT DISGUISE!

Kalim: They didn't even call my name, just said stuff like, "Perhaps it is time for bed, my young, esteemed colleague?"

Vil: They absolutely knew. No one in their right mind would tell their colleague to go rest in the middle of their duties.

Kalim: Eh? …YOU'RE SO RIGHT!! You're amazing, Vil. I never even realized before you said that just now.

Kalim: But then, how did they even figure out it was me?

Vil: I wouldn't call what you did a disguise or anything. All you did was wear your attendants' clothing.

Vil: Your behavior and speech were the same as usual, weren't they? Then there was nothing disguised. It was no different than you changing between your school or dorm uniforms.

Kalim: So if they figured it out 'cause of my behavior…? So then, I shouldn't've talked like I normally do, right?

Vil: Yes. Think back to the mannerisms of the attendants in your estate and how they treat you.

Kalim: Their mannerisms… Hmm…

Kalim: Oh, I think I got it! So I should've tried to speak more polite-like!

Vil: I wasn't really talking about something as minor as that, but… Well, I suppose that's a step in the right direction.

Vil: If you are going to disguise yourself as another person, you cannot just mimic them. You must completely change your mannerisms, speech, everything.

Kalim: I got it. Thanks for the advice!

Kalim: I know what I have to fix now, so… I gotta try again as soon as I can!

Vil: You're going to try again…? Here? And who exactly are you planning to disguise yourself as?

Kalim: Obviously, one of my family's attendants! This time for sure, it'll be the best disguise ever!

Vil: I think dressing up as an Asim family attendant would just be too conspicuous… But I do look forward to seeing how you pull it off.

­­­­[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Kalim: Woah! Look, Vil! There's a painting of a tea party.

Vil: According to legend, this tea party was ridiculously strange…

Kalim: It's super cool, don'tcha think! This is one of my favorite displays.

Kalim: It had teapots whistling along to songs, and plates that could be eaten after being doused in tea…

Kalim: On top of that, there was a cake that would fly up into fireworks as soon as its candles were lit!

Kalim: And their large table was just completely covered in all those tableware and foodstuffs! Awesome, right!?

Vil: …You look at that tea party and genuinely think it 'awesome'? It looks as though we have completely different tastes.

Kalim: Oh, you don't think so, Vil?

Vil: Mhm. That's because I like enjoying a quiet teatime.

Kalim: They say that the girl in the tale didn't even have time to drink her tea, so it sounded pretty fun to me.

Kalim: If I ever get to attend a tea party that's this chaotic, I'd totally be down!

Kalim: Ooh, or, should I throw a tea party myself? We can act out this specific scene.

Kalim: I bet it'd be fun to sing along with my dormmates as the teapots jammed.

Kalim: Oh yeah! Don'tcha think everyone'll be surprised if the teapots also danced and leaped around with the rest of us?

Vil: Yes, I'm sure they would be.

Kalim: Yeah, I can't just try to imitate the legends. It should be an even grander extravaganza!

Kalim: I'll have to prep a lot of edible plates… And a buncha different teas they can use to dip the dishes in…

Kalim: What's left… Oh right, the cake!

Kalim: I should make it a much larger cake than what the girl in the tale got.

Kalim: That way there'd be even bigger fireworks, and it'll get everyone real excited!

Vil: I can absolutely picture your dormmates running around so loudly.

Kalim: Right!? After that… Hmmm. Vil, you got any good ideas?

Vil: You shouldn't ask me, but instead ask your dormmates for their opinion.

Kalim: Yeah! Of course, I'll definitely check with them.

Kalim: But, I want to invite you too, Vil. So tell me, what kind of party do you want it to be?

Vil: [sighs] …I just told you. I would rather enjoy a quiet teatime.

Vil: Thank you for the invite, but I'll have to decline. Bye, now.

Kalim: Okay…  Then you definitely gotta come to the next party I throw!

Kalim: All right, which painting should I check out next? Ooh! Is that…?

Kalim: Yeah, just as I thought! It's artwork that shows the young man marching in a parade on an elephant's back!

Kalim: There were 75 golden camels, 53 peacocks, and a bunch of other animals and dancers following him...

Kalim: Looks like he was trying to entertain the whole country on the way to visit the princess.

Kalim: He went through all that effort just to make everyone happy… There's no doubt about it.

Kalim: This guy is definitely an awesomely good guy. I'm a real good judge of character, after all!

Requested by @starshiningsirius.

[aghostwrites]

Look at your high lord

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*WARNINGS* Unprotected sex, NSFW, fingering, oral (male receiving), featuring semi-nice Tamlin, lewd Lucien, overstimulation, threesome, orgasm (male and female) OC character, she/her pronouns, mention of female genitals and male genitals.

paring: Tamlin x f!reader x Lucien

word count: 2k

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Calanmai is fast approaching and the entire female staff of the Spring court is buzzing with excitement. Well, almost all. Alis has been monitoring the food preparations for the upcoming festivity, her temper is beginning to run high. Tamlin refuses to tell me what Calanmai means or what happens during the event but Lucien has been making more lewd comments towards Tamlin. Lucien seems to want me to attend this event whereas Tamlin is adamant about me staying in the house. Lucien and I are taking our usual ride in the forest, pretending to be hunting. 

“Bunny, have you thought of what you’ll be wearing to Calanmai?” a grin spreads across Lucien’s face.

“Tamlin told me to stay out of the festivities” I tried to copy Tamlin’s tone of voice when he told me, “It isn’t the place for a human female.”

Lucien laughs at my attempt to mock the high lord. “That's because he knows what he will do if he catches your scent. I know what I would do to you if it were me performing Calanmai.”

Lucien and his cauldron damned remarks. Bastard. 

He does make me wonder if maybe I should disobey Tamlin’s command. The females cannot stop their gossip about how exciting last year was. 

I must admit, I’m interested. 

⟴

I’ve picked up the habit of eavesdropping on the household staff and I’ve become pretty skilled. Their fae hearing seems to miss my careful footsteps these past couple of days. That or they don’t seem to care. I’ve learned my place among the high and lesser fae. As a human, they don’t care about things I could overhear. Odelia is my favorite staff member to eavesdrop on, she never quite knows when to keep her mouth closed and she is the most nosey as well, always wanting to know and share information.

“Who do you think Tamlin will choose this year for Calanmai? I must admit, I never knew what kind of lover he was until I saw him ravish Genesta last year. She was giggling like a youngling and wouldn’t shut up about it for ages”. The other ladies giggle.

What does she mean lover?

Divva gives Odelia a light smack on the shoulder, “You know Tamlin would never fuck you, stupid”.

Fuck her?

Odelia gives an obnoxious smile to Divva, “It doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about it. Seeing him inhale that smoke” she purrs, “watching the animal that lies beneath his skin come to life, it's thrilling”.   

I start to feel a little uncomfortable listening to these two. It seems too intimate to think about Tamlin this way. Of course, he is handsome, especially with that mask. I shouldn’t think of him as anyone else besides my captor, I shouldn’t. However, in my dreams I do. I dream of having his hands in my hair,  his lips on my skin, body against mine. The worst part is, that I dream of what he would look like as I’m displayed underneath him.

“Are you alright? You smell… enticing”

I jump back a bit from my spying. “Lucien” I stammer “ what happens during Calanmai?”

“ Bunny” He chuckles. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me that.” He puts his arm around my waist, leading me away from my eavesdropping. My breath quickens as I feel the heat of his body against mine.  “Calanmai or Fire Night is a magical celebration, the crops depend upon the magic in the Great Rite on Fire Night. Each High Lord must perform the Great Rite, which consists of allowing powerful magic to enter their bodies and seize control of them. Causing the High Lord to attempt to find the Maiden and claim her for the night to release magic that will spread through the lands and allow crops to grow until the next Calanmai. In this case, the high lord is Tamlin.” He smirks. 

“Claims?” I ask.

“They have sex,” Lucien says flatly, my cheek burning red. “Maybe, my little bunny you should attend. After all, the spring court is your home and you should know of its traditions. I’ll take you as my guest” He finishes.

I can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger on my face. As his eyes make their way to my body, he licks his lips and smirks. I feel my insides turn and I don’t know if it's fear or excitement. 

⟴

Calanmai has finally come, the palace grounds are bursting with high fae both male and female. I’ve never seen such beautifully dressed people, rich fabrics of all different colors flowing. Back home, these clothes would have been able to buy a mansion or two. Lucien told Alis that I was to attend Calanmai as his guest and that I must be dressed accordingly. I’m dressed in a velvet green skirt that has a slit on the side and a sheer white shirt that hugs my curves and accentuates my chest. Flowers are placed in my hair and it's a wonder how they don’t fall out as I walk. Lucien is standing outside my room waiting. He is dressed similarly to me, velvet green pants. 

Oh cauldron, he’s not wearing a shirt

I forget how to breathe.

He is beautiful to look at, his red hair, his body perfectly toned and full of muscle. A warrior.

He doesn’t speak to me, only grabs my hand and gives me a smirk. The trip to the spring court grounds is overwhelming. Bonfires are lit, thick smoke hangs in the air, music, and dancing. High fae are laughing, kissing, and touching. I grab Lucien’s hand a little tighter as I notice four high fae pleasuring each other, three males and one female. I look away in embarrassment.

“Come on Bunny? Aren't you tempted to watch?” Lucien asks, he has an animalistic smile across his face like he is hungry. Like he is hunting.

I can’t form a coherent response.

Fuck, I might be. 

I’m about to face the group of high fae when I see him.

“Tamlin?” I gasp, my voice so quiet only Lucien can hear. 

Cauldron, he is beautiful. Completely bare for the mother above to see, a god. I can't help the heat that rises to my face as I try to look away. Lucien's hand grabs my face, making me turn my head, another hand holds me close to his body as he whispers. “Look, look at your high lord of the Spring court”.

Heat begins to rise elsewhere. I feel Lucien’s breath on the shell of my ear and it draws my attention back to the high fae before me.

Tamlin draws in a deep breath and lets out a loud sign. “I can smell her, bring her to me.”

Can he smell me?

Lucien begins to move in Tamlin’s direction, walking me forward, his hand on my waist. I would have turned around and gone back to the palace if it wasn’t for the way Tamlin is looking at me. The way Lucien is looking at me. Hungry. Lucien places me in front of Tamlin, his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.

I have nowhere to go, nowhere to turn, everyone is watching.

The music seems to stop, the high fae now all have their eyes on Tamlin.

On me.

“Your high lord has chosen his maiden, it is time for the celebration to begin.”

At once the high fae begin to cheer, some kiss, and some of the female high fae give me glares of pure jealousy. Their attention finally begins to dwindle away, absorbed in their own lust once again.

Tamlin comes closer to me, his lips brushing my neck. I can’t help the small squeak that I make. “How would you like us? Rumor has it that human females like it rough, that they like to limp home, that they want to cry with pleasure.” He growls.

Us?

Lucien starts to caress my backside as he whispers “Or would you like us to be gentle?”

The two of them?

I want to back away and tell Tamlin to pick another. Lucien seems to sense my thoughts as he turns me around to face him.

“Little bunny, you’re not going anywhere”

He kisses me. Slow and deep, full of desire. His tongue teases my bottom lip. I can’t help but open my mouth to let his tongue in. My body betrays me, no matter how much I want to walk away, I can’t. Not with two perfect males before me. Their excitement showing.

Lucien is the distraction.

I nearly forget about Tamlin before I feel his hands cup the back of my thighs, he lets out a low groan. 

“How does she taste?”

Lucien never leaves my lips, only lets out a low sigh of pleasure that makes Tamlin laugh, and my cheeks flush. Tamlin continues on my thighs, rubbing little circles, closer and closer to my pussy. Heat begins to spread through my body as he finds my clit. I arch my back and let out a small whimper. Low enough that no human could hear, but these are fae males and they hear everything.

“Fuck, she’s eager”

“And who do you think for, My Lord? You or me?”

“ Who do you want, Bunny?” Growels Tamlin.

Both, please let me have both.

I can only give a small nod that makes both the males smile. Their work begins.

Tamlin lets a claw slide from underneath his knuckles and shreds my clothes while Lucien begins to take his pants off. I can't look away from either of them. Both of their cocks are hard, dripping with anticipation.

Dripping for me.

Lucien moves first, his hands on my breasts, kissing my neck lower and lower until he puts my nipple in his mouth and sucks hard. I’ve never felt this pleasure before, I grip his hair and let out a small moan that makes Lucien smile against my chest.

Tamlin moves next, his fingers rubbing my clit before he slips them inside me. “Oh, fuck” Tamlin groans, “She’s tight.” He presses his fingers against a bundle of nerves, moving at a speed that I could never achieve, nor any mortal man. Tamlin places his lips on my neck, making my back arch more into him. Biting my neck, showing that I have been claimed for the night. He pulls his fingers out and I feel my walls close around the emptiness. Before I can tell Tamlin to keep going, that I want it, that I like it, he slips his cock in. 

Fuck he’s big.

The feeling is surreal, Tamlin is able to reach everything, and he begins thrusting into me at a slow pace. It makes my head dizzy, I need him to move faster, to go harder. I must have done something to let Tamlin know what I want. Maybe it's the way I wiggle my body to try and get him to speed up. 

“Bunny, are you impatient? I heard human females have needy cunts.” Lucien murmurs, still giving my breasts the attention they crave. Tamlin seems to understand Lucian's hidden message. He grips my hips pushing my chest forward. I need stability now that I’m bent over completely for Tamlin. I grasp around for anything before my hands land on Lucien. Tamlin quickens his pace until I see stars. I rock my hips to the rhythm. Cauldron he’s big, I’m completely stretched for him as he hits a spot deep inside, over and over relentlessly. 

“Bunny?’ purrs Lucien “I want to see your pretty lips around my cock”

How can I say no?

Between the movements of Tamlin, I grip Lucien’s cock, wrapping my mouth around him, running my tongue up and down the length before drawing my mouth up and bringing it back down. “Oh cauldron” he moans as he begins thrusting his hips to meet my mouth.

I don’t know how much longer the three of us can last. Tamlin pounding into me mercilessly, Lucien’s hand in my hair, guiding my head up and down. It's just a matter of time before one of us breaks first…..

I felt the pressure begin to build which causes my legs to shake. 

I have to take my mouth away from Lucien to catch a breath. “Tamlin I-I’m close, please don’t stop.”

“Never Bunny.” Tamlin purrs as I wrap my lips back around Lucien. Tamlin starts playing with my clit again, rubbing hard and fast circles that cause my muscles to tense. Then I break. My climax pulsing through my body as Tamlin continues to fuck me through the high. 

I feel Lucien twitch in my mouth. “I think I’m going to,” he doesn’t finish his sentence before he releases himself into my mouth. 

That leaves Tamlin left to break, his strokes start to get sloppy, and he lets out an animalistic groan. I feel claws gently rake my back. Finally, he lets go. Not letting any drop of his release be spilled as he thrusts his cock all the way deep into me a final time.

All of us drip with sweat, and both of the males give a chuckle. 

“You did well, Bunny,” says Lucien as Tamlin kisses the back of my neck.

“Next year,” Tamlin says, “I’ll make sure everyone has their eyes on you while we claim you over and over again.” He nips my neck gently before saying. “Next Calanmai, you’ll be begging for us.”

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [3/5]

Whatever It's Worth

“For whatever it’s worth, I think it always looks fine. I think you fuss over it too damn much, but regardless… it’s… fine. You always look fine to me. You’d look fine even if you didn’t have any hair at all.”

A small smile blooms across your features as his words sink in. “That’s… that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me, Sun.”

You turn and he lets the ends of your hair slip from his hands, looking a bit caught off guard at your sudden motion. You ignore his false eyes and look directly into the camera in the center of his screen. “Thank you.”

He remains frozen for a moment before his display dims to black and he turns, quickly scrubbing the worst remnants of conditioner off of his hands and onto a nearby towel. “I think your hair has been conditioned enough.”

- - - - - - -

In This Chapter

Sun attempts some level-headed honesty with his hands in your hair, and Moon gets a little overzealous when it comes to his unofficial position as Household Chef.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 4,779

Contains: [AU - Real World | Sentient AI/Automatons | Personality Swap] [implied EDNOS] [invasion of privacy] [implication of past self-harming behavior] [Reader has their period (not graphically described)] [discussion of menstruation] [discussion of various foods and nutrition] [one (1) use of a gendered term for Reader] [discussion and feelings of dysphoria] [eating]

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from ‘That I Would Be Good’ by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Links to other parts of this fic: [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3 (you are here)]

That I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth.

After rinsing the remainder of lightly-tinted soap suds out of your hair, off of your body, and down the drain, you bend down to turn the shower off. Gently squeezing the worst of the water out of your locks, you straighten back up and pull the shower door aside.

Then you shout.

“SUN! What the fuck are you doing?!”

You quickly step behind the blurry frosted glass of the shower door, leaving only your head peeking around the edge. You shiver in the relatively cold air that rushes to fill the shower stall as you await an answer. The solar automaton is currently leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and casual as ever, monitor flipped around 180 degrees in what you assume was meant to be a silent assurance that he wasn’t watching you.

“I have a question.”

Your eyes pinch closed and your features scrunch up in frustration, silently asking any higher power out there to grant you the patience to deal with this nonsense. “And it couldn’t wait until I got dressed?”

He shrugs. “I don’t see why it would need to.”

You silently press your forehead against the cool metal of the shower door’s frame.

“…Are you decent yet or must I continue admiring the grout between the tiles on this wall behind me?”

You huff, reaching out of the shower and grabbing your bathrobe off of its designated hook. “Just one… damn second…” You cinch the rope around your waist and step gingerly out onto the bath mat. “Okay, I’m ‘decent.’ Now—pray tell—what do you need to ask me?”

He leans his upper body away from the wall, rays retracting to give himself enough clearance to flip his monitor around. His rays slide back out in tandem after he turns his head to face you, and he rests his shoulders against the wall once more. “I was wondering why you’ve taken three showers today.”

You stand there, blinking in disbelief. “That’s it?”

“Yes. It’s… concerning. I wanted to make sure you weren’t up to any… harmful behaviors in here while left unsupervised.”

You roll your eyes. “‘Left unsupervised…’ What is this, some kind of inpatient program? Christ, Sun, this is my house! Can’t I catch a break?”

You throw your arms up in frustration, and he doesn’t answer you immediately. It isn’t until you deflate, dropping your exaggerated expression and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose that he finally responds in a quieter tone. “You… concern me. I don’t know what to do.”

You sigh, trying to reign in your frustration.

Sometimes you forget that he has a lot less experience with being a person than you do.

You try to cut him some slack. “Sun, I appreciate the concern over my wellbeing. But I promise you, the only destructive behavior going on in this bathroom today is the damage I'm doing to my hair.”

He’s quiet, processing your words for a moment before he announces an observation. “It’s a lighter shade than it was this morning.”

You nod. “I sure hope it is. I’ve been in here washing the hell out of it with this fading treatment, trying to get the color I wanted.”

His expression is something between confused and disapproving. “You aren’t supposed to do that. It’s bad for your hair to wash it so much.”

You turn to the mirror and toy with your hair, dismissing him. “Yeah, yeah. Jeez, who are you, my hairdresser?”

He steps into view beside you in the mirror, leaning in closer to examine your hair. “Maybe if you’d gone to one instead of DIY-ing it you’d have gotten the color you wanted.”

You lock eyes with his reflection for a long moment. “…Touché.”

He seems pleased enough with your response, stepping back a bit and watching you futz with your hair in the mirror.

“Have your concerns been quelled now, or…?”

“…I suppose.” He replies, making no move to exit the bathroom.

“…Well then are you gonna just stand there and watch me apply my leave-in conditioner or what?”

He ignores your question, leaning in close to you again. Pinching the end of a damp lock of hair between the pads of his fingers, he hums his dissent. “You really need to quit fucking with your hair if you want to still have any left.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Goodness, the way you worded that almost sounds like a threat!”

His eyes meet yours in the mirror again and he smirks. “No… just a warning.”

He drags the tail end of your hair along the palm of his opposite hand, like idly toying with a paintbrush. “You’re always awfully concerned about the appearance of your hair.”

You cock a brow up at that. “Are you sure that isn’t a threat, Sun?”

A noise escapes him: half-scoff, half-laugh, and he sounds oddly genuine when he reassures you. “It’s not. I just… noticed.”

He releases your hair and you can finally lean far enough away to open the cabinet. “Mhm. What don’t you notice.”

He ignores your comment in favor of hitting you with another set of sudden left-field questions. “Are you afraid of getting older? Or are you afraid of losing control.”

Your hand halts, hovering halfway toward retrieving the conditioner from the cabinet, and drops back down to your side as you turn to face him. “What?”

“I’ve learned that some people dye their hair because they want to appear younger than they are. I’ve also seen many posts online where people describe making drastic changes to their hair while going through something difficult in their life. The concept appears in a number of song lyrics too. It seems to me like an attempt at gaining a sense of control.”

The fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that they’re always asking questions and compiling information about the world around them.

The not-so-fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that they’re always asking questions and compiling information about the world around them.

You’d liken it to having a fully grown adult with the curiosity and learning capacity of a child, if you didn’t want to feel even weirder about your “Creator x Creation” dynamic than you already do sometimes.

“While I… appreciate your attempts to psychoanalyze me based on my hair-dyeing habits, I regret to inform you that it’s neither of those things for me, Sunny.” You consider it a moment more, and add on. “…As far as I’m aware, at least.”

His head tilts to the side a bit. “You don’t have to patronize me.”

“I… wasn’t?”

“You used that name for me. ‘Sunny.’ It made your statement sound… patronizing.”

Another fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that you get to clear up all sorts of little miscommunications.

“Oh, no, I—I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m sorry, Sun. That wasn’t my intention.”

He doesn’t let it go so quickly. “Based on my calculations, a nickname like that tends to be used in one of three ways—patronizing, dismissive, or affectionate. Care to clarify which one it was?”

You level him with an unamused stare. “No, I don’t care to clarify.”

You then turn to retrieve the conditioner from the cabinet, effectively shutting down that line of questioning. You grab the body lotion while you’re at it, and as you set your items down on the counter, you attempt to free yourself of your overly-curious bathroom companion. “Unless you’re waiting around to help me put this stuff in my hair, I'm afraid it’s time for you to go find something else to do for a little while, Sun.”

His response is… unexpected. “I… can help.”

What has gotten into this guy recently? Used to be you had to fight to get one nice word out of him and now here he is playing ‘20 Questions’ and offering to condition your hair?

“I… didn’t expect you to actually—”

“If you didn’t want me to offer then why’d you ask?”

You squint at him, unamused. “Sun, c’mon, I know you grasp the concepts of sarcasm and rhetoric.”

Once again ignoring your statement, he pushes himself away from the wall and holds out his upturned palms in an open gesture of offering. “Would you like me to help or not?”

You’re quite sure he expects you to turn him down, so you agree to his offer, if for no other reason than to subvert his expectations. “You know what? Yeah, sure. I’d love the help, Sunny.”

He freezes for a moment—processing—but you’ve gotta admit, he collects himself surprisingly fast, apparently feeling up to the challenge.

Once you explain how much of the product to use and how to apply it, you quickly find yourself staring into the mirror, watching Sun carefully and methodically work conditioner into your hair and wondering how you got here.

Eventually a question pops up and you break through his focused silence. “Does it really look lighter than it did earlier today?”

“…Yes. But if you want my honest opinion it looked just fine before you scrubbed the life out of it three times.”

You huff in surprise at his bluntness. “Damn, okay, tell me how you really feel…”

“When have you ever known me to mince my words?”

“I know, I know. It’s fine. I appreciate your honesty.”

Silence settles over the two of you for another few moments, but he eventually pipes back up. “For whatever it’s worth, I think it always looks fine. I think you fuss over it too damn much, but regardless… it’s… fine. You always look fine to me. You’d look fine even if you didn’t have any hair at all.”

A small smile blooms across your features as his words sink in. “That’s… that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me, Sun.”

You turn and he lets the ends of your hair slip from his hands, looking a bit caught off guard at your sudden motion. You ignore his false eyes and look directly into the camera in the center of his screen. “Thank you.”

He remains frozen for a moment before his display dims to black and he turns, quickly scrubbing the worst remnants of conditioner off of his hands and onto a nearby towel. “I think your hair has been conditioned enough.”

Your tone quickly becomes teasing. “Aww, is somebody flustered?”

He reaches for the doorknob. “It’s time for me to walk Zero. I trust you can moisturize the rest of yourself without my assistance.”

Quickly making his very smooth retreat, as your laughter subsides, you’re left there to apply your lotion in thoughtful silence.

That I would be great if I was no longer Queen.

“Does this feel more like an ‘apple-cinnamon’ or ‘banana-walnut’ kind of day?”

You release a soft sigh as you raise your head from where it’d been… briefly planted atop your crossed arms, and you lean back into your seat at the kitchen table. “You really don’t have to do every single thing for me, Moon.”

His monitor clicks, spinning a few degrees back and forth to accompany his playful rebuttal. “And leave me with no task to occupy these idle hands? Why, I feel like that’d be just cruel.” The pout he wears doesn’t do much to convince you, nor to ease the guilt you feel.

He can tell as much, and tries a more serious approach. “Star… you’re menstruating. From what I can tell, this is a more painful period than normal. I’m sure in no small part due to the excess stress you’ve been under this past month. You deserve to rest as much as possible right now.”

“I figured you’d be in favor of me getting up and moving around. Isn’t that supposed to help in the long-run?”

He nods. “It can. But it tends to help the most when stretching and physical activity is maintained throughout the entire monthly cycle, not just once you’re already bleeding and in pain.”

His explanation is straightforward, but soft spoken, everything in his tone and body language obviously trying not to offend, accuse, or criticize. “Besides, bugging you to exercise tends to fall more under Sun’s jurisdiction, and he’s had his reasons for prioritizing other aspects of your well-being this month.”

Speak of the devil, Moon’s other half strides into the kitchen with Zero trailing closely behind. He has no trouble falling into the conversation. “I can help you through some gentle stretches later today if you’d like, but I second the notion that you should rest right now. I don’t need to hear any more groans and curses from you like I heard after you insisted on cleaning up the living room and prepping your own dinner last night.”

You rest your chin in your palm. “I ‘insisted’ because I just… I feel like I put too much on you guys. You don’t deserve to have to do all this shit for me.”

Sun scoffs, speaking with his back to you as he pulls open a cabinet door. “Trust me, you’re doing us all a favor by letting this one over here dote on you. I fear he’d go mad if there wasn’t always some task he could busy himself with, and he seems to favor any task that falls under the realm of taking care of you.” He turns to face you, mug in hand. “Now, what do you want to drink?”

You’d laugh at the juxtaposition of his words and his actions, but the deep pain of another cramp sets in and you weakly wave a hand in defeat. “Just some hot water, please.” He hums in confirmation and moves to grab the kettle. You turn your focus back to Moon. “I’ll let you… appease your instincts. It’s kinda my fault that you’ve got ‘em in the first place.”

His expression brightens, round eyes curling into his signature crescents. “Good! Now, shall I list your options again?”

You shake your head and hum a negative, mulling it over for a moment as you take hold of the steaming mug of water that Sun quietly slides in front of you. “Uhh… actually, can I just have it plain today?”

Moon smiles softly, head twisted back over his shoulder to look at you while he pulls a carton of dry oats from the pantry. “Of course, star. Would you like some sugar on it or do you want it truly plain?”

You shove aside the inner voice whispering to you about ‘empty calories’. “…I guess a little brown sugar wouldn’t hurt.”

Moon brightens a little at your answer. “Good choice! I hear that brown sugar gives it a maple syrup-y taste thanks to the molasses. Oh, that makes me think of pancakes! And waffles! And french toast! I should make one of those tomorrow. How does that sound?”

You smile at his growing excitement over tomorrow’s breakfast, in spite of the fact that he won’t even get to partake. Another cramp sets in as you respond and you try to keep the strain out of your voice. “They all sound good, but I don’t know if I can choose right now…”

He gently places a small pot of water on the stove, turning the burner’s dial with practiced precision. “That’s alright, there’s no rush! It’s just some—heh—food for thought!”

Sun groans at the joke, and Moon defends it. “Hey, no—that was a good one!”

Zero noses at Sun’s hand, stealing his attention before he can begin to debate with Moon. As you passively watch him pull the dog’s breakfast from the fridge, a random thought occurs. “Do we still have any Ruffles left?”

Moon opens a different cabinet and shuffles a few bags around in his search. “Weeee… do!”

You’re hesitant to request the odd combination, but your craving wins the inner battle. “Can I… have some of those too?”

“You certainly can!”

Sun reaches past Moon to grab Zero’s bowl from the dish rack, speaking beneath his mechanical breath. “Sugar and salt, what a breakfast.”

“They’re fine choices!” Moon chipperly responds, the word ‘fine’ punctuated by a small smack to the back of Sun’s monitor.

Sun’s rays retract as he ducks down and steps back, distancing himself from Moon’s reach. “I never said they weren’t.” He sets Zero’s bowl on the counter with emphasis. “But you might want to throw some sort of multivitamin in with that salty-sweet mix.”

“I always see to it that they meet their daily needs, Sun.” Moon’s voice rarely wavers from its amicable tone, but there’s an undercurrent of finality to it now that quiets any further commentary from his other half.

As he stirs the simmering oats on the stove, his monitor turns to face you. “Oh, speaking of! I was thinking about making you something with spinach and tofu for lunch. You could use the iron, and the magnesium might help to ease your cramps. Plus the vitamin C should help you absorb the iron, and- oh! I could add some wild rice, or potatoes. The additional B vitamins should help the magnesium, and they support progesterone prod—” The kitchen timer dings, stealing his attention and interrupting his ensuing nutritional ramble.

Twisting his head back around, he turns the burner’s dial off. “Anyways—point is—how does that sound to you? I could cube the tofu and toss it into a spinach salad, I could slice and fry it and arrange it together on a sandwich, or I could even sauté the spinach and make a tofu scramble!”

His excited discussion of all of your lunch options is a bit overwhelming to you, considering you haven’t even conquered breakfast yet. Still, you bear in mind that he’s only trying to help, over-enthusiastic as he may be sometimes. “Uhm… the sandwich sounds nice.”

“Alright! Then it shall be yours.” He moves to pass behind you, enroute to retrieve a bowl from the other side of the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your blanket-clad shoulders in a brief embrace. “Anything the Queen of the castle desires is hers upon command.”

You both giggle a bit at his playful expression, and Sun rolls his eyes, accompanied by a dramatic gagging sound. Zero’s happy tail thwacks repeatedly against one leg of the kitchen table. All is well.

Except it isn’t.

As Moon returns to the stove and Sun portions out Zero’s meal, you struggle to fight back the feeling that what he’d just said didn’t sit right.

It had nothing to do with his devotion to service and everything to do with the concept of you being “Queen.” All of this morning’s focus on your menstrual cycle, coupled with this ‘princess’ treatment and compounded by his casual use of feminine terms for you, suddenly has you feeling more like a woman than you suppose you’d like to.

Trying to push the nagging uncomfortable feeling aside, you pull your phone from your sweatpants pocket. You attempt to distract yourself with a mindless scroll through your notifications as the pleasant smell of your breakfast fills the room.

After presenting Zero with her own breakfast, Sun takes a seat across from you at the small table. You can feel his analytical gaze on you, pointedly avoiding eye contact when you glance up from your phone to sip your water.

By the time Moon presents you with your breakfast, the feeling has done nothing but rapidly fester. You try to distract yourself with the meal, but not even the absurd sight of your requested potato chips—on a plate, methodically arranged by size and laid atop one another in a spiral—is enough to rid you of it. You do your best to sound unbothered when you thank him, and he falters as he moves to step away from the table. “You’re very welc-ome… Is, uh… everything okay, star?”

Sun doesn’t beat around the bush. “Something’s wrong. Is the pain getting worse?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. Just… thinking about something.”

Moon’s hand comes to rest on the back of the nearest empty chair. “Well… talking tends to help people sort their thoughts out, no? We’re all ears if you’d like to get it off your chest.”

You hesitate and Sun straightens in his seat. “If my presence is preventing you from opening up, I can leave the room.”

Your gaze flicks to him, brows knitted. “What? No, no—I… why would you think that?”

He shrugs. If the notion bothers him, he doesn’t let it show. “I’m sure Moon is… the easier of the two of us to talk to. You seemed to be getting more uncomfortable the longer I sat here. Makes sense to me that maybe you’d rather me not hear about whatever’s going on.”

You start to feel a bit guilty that that’s the conclusion he jumped to. “No, Sun, that’s not… I mean, okay—yeah, I could feel you watching me, but just about anyone gets uncomfortable when they know they’re being watched. Your penchant for staring isn’t… you’re not keeping me from opening up.” You look him directly in the eye. “There isn’t anything I’d say to one of you that I wouldn’t want the other to hear. I don’t want either of you thinking that.”

Sun’s fingertips drum along the table and his faceplate clicks to the side. “Okay then, what is stopping you?”

You pull in a deep breath, internally debating whether it’s even worth explaining.

“You… don’t have to tell us, if you really don’t want to.”

You give Moon a tired smile, opening your mouth only for a defeated sigh to fall out. “It’s… nothing, really. Stupid, even.”

Moon frowns. “Did one of us do or say something wrong?”

“No… I mean—not really. Not intentionally! It’s just…” You groan, resting your forehead in your palms. “I feel uncomfortably… feminine. Today. For some reason.”

He nods slowly. “Oh…kay…”

You attempt to elaborate. “I know I don’t talk about it much. You guys know I use She/They pronouns and there’s no more explanation really required. But… I don’t know. Something lately has just had me wishing I was more masculine. Or—at least more androgynous, I guess. And with all this focus on my period, and—”

Sun, the ever patient listener he is, cuts you off. “Menstruation is not inherently feminine. Any human can have periods if they have a uterus.”

You nod quickly. “Yes—I—I agree, but you’ve gotta take into account that that’s a relatively new take on the concept. It’s a good one, of course, but… a lot of people still associate having periods with being a woman. It’s been so tied to femininity for so long, always seen as a ‘woman’s issue’ that… it can be a difficult thing to un-internalize. It’s a common cause of dysphoria in transmasc and nonbinary people.”

He listens intently, rays slowly circling his head as he considers your point. “Right… right. I see. That makes sense.”

You take a pause to sip your cooling drink and recall where you left off. “It… honestly doesn’t usually bother me this bad. I couldn’t tell you what’s different about this month, it’s just not sitting well with me. But I do appreciate knowing that you two don’t see it as making me feminine. That does help. It’s just…” You shake your head. “Ugh, this is so silly…”

Moon slowly pulls back on the chair he’s been holding onto, stepping around and gently taking a seat. “It’s not silly if it’s bothering you.”

Sun nods, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “He’s right.”

You meet both of their gazes in turn with a small smile before casting your eyes back down to the table. “It’s not a big deal, though. It just… on top of already feeling very feminine, it sat with me wrong when you called me ‘Queen’ earlier. That’s… that’s literally all!” You punctuate your confession with laughter, trying your best to make light of the issue.

Moon’s eyes brighten. “Oh! Oh… oh goodness you’re right! I didn’t even—I didn’t even think…”

You raise a hand out toward him, quick to stop his unnecessary apologies. “It’s not your fault! I promise. You had no clue I was feeling… this way today, and I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not upset with you, I’m… honestly way more upset with myself that I’m so bothered about it in the first place.”

Sun throws his opinion into the ring. “I don’t think either of you are at fault. Moon didn’t know you were feeling this way, and you can’t really control when you feel this way.”

Moon nods and you follow suit. “Yeah, I was hesitant to say anything because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I already feel like I’m… hah—‘overly-sensitive’ right now anyways.”

Sun’s expression quickly shifts to disapproval. “Oh, that stereotype can get fucked. You feel how you feel and that’s that. It’s just as real right now as it would be at any other point in your cycle.”

Your eyes widen at Sun’s insistent tone and Moon chuckles a bit at the sight. “I agree, star. And… I don’t think that you’re making a ‘big deal’ about it at all. Honestly, I think the best way to not make it a big deal is to not be afraid to tell us if we use a term for you that makes you uncomfortable. I’d much rather you tell me than just try to ignore the feeling.” He reaches out to place a hand over yours. “We know that your identity isn’t set in stone. If there’s ever something you want to be called, or something you don’t want to be called, the best thing you can do is just let us know, okay?”

Unable to fight the affectionate smile that pulls at your cheeks, you flip your hand over to grab his properly, and squeeze. “Okay. Yeah, that… I can do that. Thank you for understanding.”

His faceplate contentedly clicks a few degrees to the right, his smile soft. “Thank you for telling us.”

Feeling flustered and just a bit overwhelmed by how surprisingly smooth that went, you give his hand one more squeeze before pulling back to wrap it around your mug instead. You clear your throat as you do so, looking for something less intense to say. “I uh, I guess for now I’d just like to stick to gender-neutral stuff, okay?”

Moon nods eagerly. “Of course! Easy-peasy. I can even remedy what I said earlier if you’d like!” He’s muttering to himself before you can even tell him that that’s not really necessary. “Oh—uhm… hmmm…. what’s a good neutral alternative to ‘Queen’…”

Sun instantly starts listing suggestions. “Monarch. Ruler. Sovereign.” His rays spin a quick round, a tell that he’s taking his internal database search online for more information. “‘Caln’ is apparently a monarch word based on the Q slash K sound of Queen and King, if that sounds better to your ear.”

He suddenly barks a laugh and your brows raise in interest. “What?”

He shakes his head dismissively, still chuckling. “Nothing, just… Quora results. The questions some people pose are truly something.”

Moon’s interest is piqued. “What’d you find that was funny enough to make you laugh?”

Sun’s voice shifts to his ‘default human’ impression. “If Queen Elizabeth announced she was gender fluid, dot-dot-dot…”

You stifle a laugh. “That’s certainly one way to pose the question.”

“What's the rest say?” Moon asks.

Sun waves his hand in dismissal. “I don’t know. The preview was humorous, but I wasn’t compelled to follow the link to the full thing. Quora gives me a headache. I’ve moved on.”

Moon playfully pouts as Sun expands his list of suggestions. “Excellency. Majesty. Highness. Grace. Eminence. …Quing?… Oh, apparently ‘Caln’ is queer. Wait, do they mean queer created or queer exclusive…”

You interject before he spends the next hour falling down a rabbit hole of royal terms. “You could go the meme-y route and call me Liege.”

Moon’s attention shifts back toward you. “Is that one gender neutral?”

“I… think so?” You shrug. “Sounds neutral enough to me. Though I honestly wouldn’t mind a bit of masculinity to counterbalance the way I’m… feeling right now.”

He nods sagely as Sun’s list of suggestions continues to grow, getting more and more obscure as he delves further and further into his search.

You can’t help but laugh a bit as you dig a spoon into your oats, beginning to breathe easier with the reminder that you’re in very considerate company.

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’ll be back in a few days with part 4! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Image Sources: x - x - x

[pokegyns]

my hot take is that on radblur a lot of conversations about how hard separatism is are immedietly labeled as lesbophobic one way or another. usually bc they mention how selfidentified separatist lesbians will tell straight women how easy not dating men or being celibate is. I'm not saying lesbians oppress straight women, nobody ever says that in those conversations, but it's obviously full of shit, celibate lesbians, who aren't doing it for safety reasons, are either uninterested in romance or didn't find their dream girl YET. this is nothing like refusing to date when you have the desire purely out of principle. while there are other aspects of separatism not dating men is obviously the bulk and I'm not surprised when straight women are salty bc this is literally "Luigi wins by doing nothing" of feminism. you wouldn't have dated these men anyway...

and this is on anon bc saying "lesbians do this thing" is considered lesbophobic even if lesbians actually consistently do this thing 😁

not all lesbians etc etc but you get what I mean

i honestly agree. i'm personally a very romance-driven creature, and i know 1000% that if i wasn't a lesbian, if i had either been bisexual and fallen in love with a dude or been straight, i would never have stopped myself from feeling that love and still done feminist activism within that relationship by holding him to a very high standard and maintaining strong feminist friendships, monitoring things in a smart, emotionally intelligent way, and taking all the happiness i can out of life while also being a badass activist.

some of the hardest working female activists had happy marriages to men! and still made a huge impact, at times bigger than some separatists who scoffed at them and wasted their time just talking shit about women all day. separatists do awesome work, work that often is really valuable especially for young girls who feel like they have to dedicate their lives to dating. but if a woman gets a huge amount of happiness from dating, and is willing to be firm in her feminist convictions and handle it in the way that some non-unhinged so-called "femcels" do it, then i'm all for it and i'll be happy to hear her gossip about her bf anytime the same way i get happy hearing about my lesbian friends' gfs. seeing women happy makes me happy, i just want them to have a really good safety net and to know what they're getting into, and i love seeing male-dating women and transmascs exchange tips on how to date bio men as safely as possible and juggle dating a man and being a feminist. saying that separatism is inherently The Most Feminist thing you can do erases work that ONLY women who date men can do; they still hold something that men desire, and they get to make the rules. they also at times end up being the mothers of the next male generation, and that too can be a very powerful position to hold, as controversially as that is to say on doomerist radblr, if only because it can lead to some level of harm reduction on female kids & their female teachers etc. instead of letting only conservative women bear future kids and populate the earth - because we know they will regardless - raising kids in a feminist household can prove to be very valuable. you ofc can't prevent them from being radicalized down the line, but you can still have a meaningful impact.

it's really weird to try to explain to normie leftist-ish women irl who aren't deep on radblr that saying "you can date men and have kids and be an awesome feminist regardless" or "i personally want to see humanity continue, i don't believe in ending it, i want feminist mothers raising the next gen" or even "i believe transfems face unique struggles" can lead to you being mocked, shunned, and get hate anons outta nowhere (though nowhere near the shit i've gotten in tra circles lmao). it's a really wacky culture we have going on in here, and ngl it makes me cringe. it's just so... unproductive.

i 1000% want separatism to be an option. i think it's a great side of radfeminism. but i personally want to tackle issues between male and female people by actually interacting with the male population meaningfully and figure out the issue of gncphobia ppl - including male ppl - face so that the gender boxes can be destroyed... and even that recently got me in trouble, despite me being a lesbian and obvs not dating men. chronically online spaces in general foster really extremist views that aren't helpful at all to any social movement. we can gather more separatists for the movement and let male-partnered feminists do activism their own way. obviously i've received lesbophobia from the other side as well, but i'm honestly sorry for the way that lesbians and het-attracted women generally uninterested in dating treat women who enjoy and benefit from dating emotionally. having a romantic partner is a huge part of my life, and i can never see myself give up on it. it would then be insanely hypocritical of me to expect it of someone else just bc we happen to have a different sexuality. even if a febfem ended up falling for a man and going through with it, that wouldn't be a betrayal either! female happiness is my #1 priority. and no, that isn't me being a hetero bootlicker or male apologist or whatever the fuck separatists have called me before in radfem spaces. i'm just being realistic. is our main goal as feminists to abolish the hetero dating scene? bc if so, we're gonna have next generations full of conservatively raised kids, including male kids, who will then be more likely to be sexist.

thankfully normie feminists irl, who aren't deep in either extremist tra or extremist radfem spaces, would be in total disbelief if you told them about this stuff. and they would just go back to their activism. and i think we should do the same. don't listen to those voices, do what's right for YOU in your heart. just maintain your convictions, don't let male ppl trample all over you, ditch them the very second they say anything antifeminist or shitty, and chase your happiness. your personal life does not need to define your feminist activism. you are still 100% welcome here, in this nuancefem corner of radblr!

-mod pikachu

[dark-corner-cunning]

The Enduring Power of the Oil Lamp: A Time-Honored Tool In Mountain Folk Magick

The Appalachian region is known for its enchanted mountains, which hold a deep-rooted past of practical but extraordinary techniques and traditions. Among them, one tool has stood the test of time - the oil lamp. This unassuming yet potent household item has been used worldwide throughout time. Also, it has been an essential part of mountain folk magick for generations, renowned for its effectiveness and versatility in money drawing, legal matters, love drawing, protection, asserting dominance, and aid in various long-ongoing workings.

A Purification & Path Clearing Working

Working The Oil Lamp:

Personally, I prefer using oil lamps for my own personal work instead of candles. One of the main reasons is that there is less mess and the ability to adjust the flame during my working to my liking. Another added benefit is that technically the lamp never has to be extinguished... However, in our busy modern lives, it's not always feasible to constantly monitor a burning source like fire. It is important to prioritize safety and practicality rather than adhering to tradition or the idea that the lamp can never be extinguished until completed. No working is worth the cost of losing your home or space!!!

When preparing your oil lamp, it is necessary to prepare it properly. This involves blessing and dressing the lamp. I always make sure to clean my lamps with either Florida Water, Moon Water, Smoke, Sound, Prayers, or Chants beforehand. Once the lamp is thoroughly cleansed and blessed, the work can begin.

Important note: Beforehand you might want to ensure that the ingredients that you plan to use in the lamp can be easily removed from the basin after the work is completed. It is important to keep in mind not to overload your lamp with herbs, as this can affect the flow of the flame and the absorption of the oil.

Personal Tip: I have found it best to work in intervals of 3, 6, or 9, as these numbers hold significant spiritual meaning. Additionally, in my personal opinion the use of more than 9 different herbs in lamp magick, is overkill... but do whatever makes you happy! Don't forget to make sure you have blessed and charged those herbs with your energy and intention before loading them in your lamp. And on the note of lamp oil, I use paraffin since it is smokeless and odorless. For added potency, you can bless and charge your lamp oil beforehand by setting it out under any moon phase, deity, patron, chants, prayers, or harnessing your breath with intention and blowing into the oil.

Now, before loading the basin with herbs, you might want to have a petition ready. Some practitioners choose to pin their petition to the part of the wick directly under the screw top, but this may not be the best option for everyone. An alternative method is to place the lamp directly on top of your petition. Another technique among practitioners is creating a sigil and drawing it onto the glass of the lamp with a Sharpie. Once the working is completed, the sigil can easily be washed off, and the lamp can be cleared and cleansed for future workings. Also before burning, make sure you have let your wick soaked at least an hour before burning.

Once all the pieces are put together and you're ready to light the wick, you can begin by either grasping the lamp and rubbing the basin or placing your hands around it while reciting chants, focusing your energy, and bestowing blessings. Continue this practice for as long as you feel necessary before lighting the lamp. It is important to keep the lamp in a safe location for an extended time, but be sure to follow proper fire safety precautions. To avoid the risk of the glass breaking, start the flame on a low setting until the glass has warmed up. Don't leave the lamp unattended or on a high flame. If you need to extinguish the flame, you can always restart the lamp using your own energy, intentions, chants, or prayers like you did at the start of the working. Personally, I keep the lamp burning until the oil is depleted and my intended goal is achieved, but you can also trust your intuition or seek guidance from divination methods.

In conclusion, the oil lamp is a versatile and potent tool in Folk Magick. When used correctly and with proper intention, it can bring forth powerful results in long workings. Just remember to burn safely, and always prepare your lamp with a clear intention. Happy casting!

Lamp Purchased From Amazon:

[energypowersaver]

Smart Meter Home Display NSW

Smart meters are a great way to keep track of your energy use and manage your bills. They come with an in-home display (IHD) that shows your usage in real time.

A smart meter can help you understand how your power consumption is changing and can help you change your habits to save money. It also can lead to better billing and pricing options in the future. To know more about Smart Meter Home Display, visit the Energy Power Saver website or call 69650912468.

A smart meter home display NSW is an in-home device that shows energy usage data. It’s an affordable way to stay on top of your electricity usage and costs between 70p and PS1 a year to run.

The smart meter collects your electricity usage data, and then sends it to your energy retailer and electricity distributor over secure and private networks. Your data is then protected by the Australian Government’s National Electricity Law and the Privacy Act 1988.

It can also help you find a better plan to suit your lifestyle and budget. In Victoria, you can use the government’s Victorian Energy Compare service to upload your smart meter data, along with information about your household and current electricity market offers, to find an optimal electricity retail plan.

A smart meter can save you money in two main ways: it can help you choose between flat rates and new flexible electricity pricing, or it can give you access to a time of use tariff that charges different prices for electricity at different times. This type of energy tariff is cheaper during off-peak periods (overnight and on weekends) but more expensive during peak periods.

Smart meters come with an in-home display (IHD) that shows energy consumption at a glance, expressed in pounds and pence. This makes it easier to monitor energy use and identify where you could be wasting electricity.

Smart meter home displays also enable households to take part in demand response programs, which help reduce pressure on the power grid during peak hours. This is an important way for households to save money and reduce the impact of their energy usage on the environment.

Smart meters also eliminate estimated billing as they regularly send readings to your energy supplier, which means you receive accurate bills. If you want to make the most of this technology, you should check with your energy supplier whether they offer an accessible IHD.

Smart meters measure electricity usage in half-hour intervals and send that data to your energy retailer, without you needing to have a meter reader visit your property. This makes it easier to monitor your power consumption and helps you work out ways to reduce your energy use.

Depending on your smart meter, you may be able to see this information through an online site, app or in a home display NSW that is linked to your smart meter. Your energy supplier will provide you with this information, which can save you money on your electricity bill.

Most smart meters in Australia are 'type 4' meters (digital meters) which record and send energy usage data to distributors at least every half hour. This makes it easier for customers to track their power consumption and work out how to reduce their use, especially if they are on time-of-use pricing (TOU).

As more power companies and utilities begin to install "smart" meters that collect energy usage data moment by moment, privacy advocates are warning of the sweeping effects these devices could have on home life. These meter data points paint an intimate picture of what a household does and when: what appliances they use, who comes and goes, what the weather is like.

This information may be used by multiple entities, including network operators and third-party energy management assistance programs that offer their own services to consumers. This could result in a variety of privacy issues, from identity theft to behavior tracking and even surveillance.

These issues can be addressed by implementing privacy engineering technologies such as encryption and privacy notices. The latter will also help ensure that consumers understand how their data is being used and can consent to it. To know more about Smart Meter Home Display, visit the Energy Power Saver website or call 69650912468.

[doodleferp]

Cara and Miguel Starter Pack

So let me start from the beginning one last time. Once upon a time, Cara was yeeted into Earth-928 thanks to some fucky Lovecraftian nonsense from her fucky Lovecraftian dimension. After meeting Miguel, who was a baby Spider-Man back then, Cara was denied access back to her world thanks to some sibling disputes. She spun a little web of lies for Miguel’s then-fianceé Dana, and they took pity on her and decided to help her out. I’m pretty sure you know the rest. They moved her in with Dana, saved the city, humorously acclimated Cara to the city, buried Dana, got married to get Cara a green card, and ended up actually falling in love.

This works off of a timeline of events that I established myself and it's subject to change if more information from the films comes out. General consensus is that Miguel was born in 2070, so he was 29 when he got his powers IN 2099. But since he’s 35 in AtSV, that means about six years have passed since then.

Cara is five foot even. She’s a tiny little thing who has the love of a fucking giant. As the tall one, Miguel is often asked to help get things from places she can’t reach. But instead of grabbing the thing like a normal person, Miguel grabs Cara under her arms, lifts her up, and holds her up so she’s the perfect height to grab the thing herself. He does this everywhere. The apartment, the Spider Society, the grocery store, his office at Alchemax, etc.

Cara likes to wear a helmet instead of a mask because she’s being tossed around constantly and feels safer with that kind of head protection. Miguel, however, fucking hates the helmet and takes every opportunity to show Cara his Pepe Silvia board about why she should trade it out for the mask he made her. Cara will sit patiently through all of it, and then she’ll go “Would you like me to crack my head open?” And he shuts up for another week. (Oh, he also made her current suit all by himself.)

These two are like...so gossipy Mostly Miguel, but Cara indulges him a lot. Ofc they have those bedtime pillow talks where they're both reading or Miggy's on his laptop and they'll go on about something someone did that day. They'll be swinging through the city and talking shit about Internet drama or some dweeb from a restaurant. Miguel will hit her up on his lunch hour and give her all the Alchemax tea, complete with examining his nails like the mean popular girl from a Disney Channel Original Movie. If he thinks someone's eavesdropping, he'll start talking in really fast Spanish so they can't get what he's saying. Needless to say, Cara had to learn Spanish really fast just to keep up with him.

They both adore snuggling. Miguel is like Cara’s weighted blanket and she can’t sleep without him anymore because he just envelops her (Fig 1). He’ll spoon her, he’ll let her sleep on his chest and hold her there. He’ll do everything short of actually sleeping on top of her (Fig 2) and he does that at least once a month. However, he always wakes up at 4 AM to use the bathroom, and Cara always wakes up because she no longer has her big warm blanket man. Thankfully, she goes right back to sleep once he comes back to bed. It’s to the point where they have trouble sleeping without the other in the bed because Cara needs the weight on her and Miguel needs something to cuddle.

Since Cara and her sisters got some fucky eldritch nonsense going on with their blood, they…I guess a bit more compatible with other dimensions. They can’t travel between them at will, of course, but they don’t glitch because they got that interdimensional cosmic horror in em. When Miguel somehow starts monitoring the ItSV movie, he’s flabbergasted when he sees the other Spiders glitching and he goes to Cara like “these people are literally dying and it hasn’t been a week, how the shock did you survive SIX YEARS”.

Cara’s actually good at a lot of household chores, so she offers to help around the apartment when she isn’t working. And thanks to Spider nonsense, she can get really thorough with it. Miguel has come home multiple times to see her standing on the ceiling changing light bulbs or cleaning something on the ceiling. It saves him tons since he got to opt out of the building's cleaning service, but it still gives him a heart attack every now and then.

They have had long arguments about whether or not killing spiders counts as murder since they’re both half-spider. Cara scoops them up on a piece of paper and puts them out the window or something. Miguel just puts them out of their misery.

As I’m sure everyone reading this has deduced, these two are a very...hands-on couple. They have been banned from being in the Spider Society’s gym at the same time because of it. As in "when one of them goes in, the other is automatically locked out" kind of banned. Thank Peter B for that -- as in, genuinely thank him because he's saved a lot of minors from seeing a couple spider mutants getting freaky.

Not exactly shippy, but Miguel and Cara's sister Cadence do not get along. At all. They hate each other with a burning passion. Cadence is positive he's that archetypical dudebro who's going to drag Cara down, and Miguel is rightfully pissed that she's hostile to him for existing. Cara unfortunately has to get in the middle of them and keep things calm, and thankfully Miguel is willing to make an effort. Cadence is less than accommodating though, so the occasional cross-dimensional family visits are always interesting.

c. doodleferp, 2024. do not steal or repost.

[haggishlyhagging]

But what exactly is it about women's equality that even its slightest shadow threatens to erase male identity? What is it about the way we frame manhood that, even today, it still depends so on "feminine" dependence for its survival? A little-noted finding by the Yankelovich Monitor survey, a large nationwide poll that has tracked social attitudes for the last two decades, takes us a good way toward a possible answer. For twenty years, the Monitor's pollsters have asked its subjects to define masculinity. And for twenty years, the leading definition, ahead by a huge margin, has never changed. It isn't being a leader, athlete, lothario, decision maker, or even just being "born male." It is simply this: being a "good provider for his family."

If establishing masculinity depends most of all on succeeding as the prime breadwinner, then it is hard to imagine a force more directly threatening to fragile American manhood than the feminist drive for economic equality. And if supporting a family epitomizes what it means to be a man, then it is little wonder that the backlash erupted when it did—against the backdrop of the '80s economy. In this period, the "traditional" man's real wages shrank dramatically (a 22 percent free-fall in households where white men were the sole breadwinners), and the traditional male breadwinner himself became an endangered species (representing less than 8 percent of all households). That the ruling definition of masculinity remains so economically based helps to explain, too, why the backlash has been voiced most bitterly by two groups of men: blue-collar workers, devastated by the shift to a service economy, and younger baby boomers, denied the comparative riches their fathers and elder brothers enjoyed. The '80s was the decade in which plant closings put blue-collar men out of work by the millions, and only 60 percent found new jobs—about half at lower pay. It was a time when, of all men losing earning power, younger baby-boom men were losing the most. The average man under thirty was earning 25 to 30 percent less than his counterpart in the early '70s. Worst off was the average young man with only a high-school education: he was making only $18,000, half the earnings of his counterpart a decade earlier. Inevitably, these losses in earning power would breed other losses. As pollster Louis Harris observed, economic polarization spawned the most dramatic attitudinal change recorded in the last decade and a half: a spectacular doubling in the proportion of Americans who describe themselves as feeling "powerless."

When analysts at Yankelovich reviewed the Monitor survey's annual attitudinal data in 1986, they had to create a new category to describe a large segment of the population that had suddenly emerged, espousing a distinct set of values. This segment, now representing a remarkable one-fifth of the study's national sample, was dominated by young men, median age thirty-three, disproportionately single, who were slipping down the income ladder—and furious about it. They were the younger, poorer brothers of the baby boom, the ones who weren't so celebrated in '80s media and advertising tributes to that generation. The Yankelovich report assigned the angry young men the euphemistic label of "the Contenders."

The men who belonged to this group had one other distinguishing trait: they feared and reviled feminism. "It's these downscale men, the ones who can't earn as much as their fathers, who we find are the most threatened by the women's movement." Susan Hayward, senior vice president at Yankelovich, observes. "They represent 20 percent of the population that cannot handle the changes in women's roles. They were not well employed, they were the first ones laid off, they had no savings and not very much in the way of prospects for the future." Other surveys would reinforce this observation. By the late '80s, the American Male Opinion Index found that the largest of its seven demographic groups was now the "Change Resisters," a 24 percent segment of the population that was disproportionately underemployed, "resentful," convinced that they were "being left behind" by a changing society, and most hostile to feminism.

To single out these men alone for blame, however, would be unfair. The backlash's public agenda has been framed and promoted by men of far more affluence and influence than the Contenders, men at the helm in the media, business, and politics. Poorer or less-educated men have not so much been the creators of the antifeminist thesis as its receptors. Most vulnerable to its message, they have picked up and played back the backlash at distortingly high volume. The Contenders have dominated the ranks of the militant wing of the '80s antiabortion movement, the list of plaintiffs filing reverse-discrimination and "men's rights" lawsuits, the steadily mounting police rolls of rapists and sexual assailants.

-Susan Faludi, Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women

[techtimechronicles24]

🇺🇲 Step back in time and explore the fascinating journey of the IBM PS/1—a pioneering computer that revolutionized personal computing in the late 1980s and early 1990s!

💻 The IBM PS/1, short for Personal System/1, marked a significant milestone in the evolution of home computing. Launched by IBM in 1990, this innovative machine was designed to bring the power and versatility of IBM's business computers into the homes of consumers.

💾 With its sleek and compact design, the IBM PS/1 was a departure from the bulky and intimidating computers of the past. It featured a built-in monitor, keyboard, and mouse, making it a convenient all-in-one solution for home users.

⚙️ Under the hood, the IBM PS/1 boasted impressive specifications for its time, including an Intel 80286 or 80386 processor, up to 16MB of RAM, and a variety of storage options ranging from floppy disks to hard drives. This formidable hardware allowed users to run productivity software, play games, and explore the emerging world of multimedia with ease.

💡 One of the most notable features of the IBM PS/1 was its user-friendly interface, which made it accessible to users of all skill levels. With its intuitive graphical user interface and pre-installed software, including IBM's own software suite and educational programs, the IBM PS/1 opened up new possibilities for home computing.

📈 Despite facing stiff competition from other manufacturers, the IBM PS/1 enjoyed moderate success and helped pave the way for the widespread adoption of personal computers in homes around the world. Its influence can still be felt today in the countless households that rely on computers for work, entertainment, and communication.

🚀 The IBM PS/1 may have been a product of its time, but its legacy lives on as a testament to the transformative power of technology. As we continue to push the boundaries of computing, let us not forget the humble beginnings of the IBM PS/1 and the role it played in shaping the digital world we know today.

[warsofasoiaf]

The vibe I got from the Elia vs Cersei ask was more of a question of her CV and external qualities, such as an alliance with the Martells vs the Lannisters (setting aside meta knowledge of just how shitty the Lannisters are as alliance partners), the issues of her fertility and the optics of marrying a woman they widowed, all that other stuff that characters would think of but we wouldn't. How about that perspective?

Fair enough.

The problem I see with this scenario is that there's no way it happens. Even the best case scenario where neither Elia nor her children die, both of Elia's kids will be removed to ensure succession. Aegon is going to the Wall and Rhaenys is being sent to a motherhouse and monitored closely. There's no way Elia, which every source agrees to love her kids, will marry Robert with that hanging over her. And the fertility question is a big question mark - if every maester in the world says that Elia will not be able to have another child, the succession is called into question and so she wouldn't be considered for a marriage alliance.

But putting that aside, my big problem with evaluating Elia as a queen consort is...well, I don't know enough about her conception of what soft power is and how to use it. What sort of political initiatives would she pursue on her own? How would she command the household staff?

So I go back to my original answer - she'd be better than Cersei in the business of actually being a queen because she doesn't have Cersei's neuroses and hang-ups.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[silyabeeodess]

What headcannons do you have on Derrick Arden? I saw your post while back. What would've happened in an AU, everything is the same, except Derrick lives? What would he do after graduation? Both as a job and in private?

Been a long time since I've talked about anything Kuroshitsuji related! Sadly, with the amount of pull Derrick has at school, I just don't see him changing if he survived. More than likely, he'll follow a victim mentality where he'd think he's completely innocent and would ignore all the abuse he himself has done to other students leading up to Greenhill attacking him and the vice headmaster. The reason Derrick was able to get away with everything he has throughout his life is because he's never had to face any true consequences for his actions up until that point. His only consequences prior were responsibilities he did not earn and then just passed on to other people. Moreover, however strict his family his, they've apparently never caught Derrick in his lies, so not even his parents will punish him properly. They'll more than likely just back Derrick as "their poor son attacked by four prefects gone mad."

The thing is though, despite what all of these students, and people like them in the real world, think... School isn't everything. It's a closed environment that means absolutely nothing except what you take with you once you step out of it. I once had bully who ruled over my first elementary school because her mom was a teacher. Everyone followed her like a bunch of mindless sheep, but the instant we got to high school, those connections broke. At this same school, I had a lunch monitor that was so vile she wouldn't let anyone, not even a student with Down Syndrome, get up from their table to get a fork if they forgot it: We were basically told to eat with our hands or starve. She was eventually fired, not for those actions, but (according to rumor anyway) because she refused to help a student who needed to use a urinary catheter (which she legally could not do). She had to work at a gas station after that, along with receiving some other karma that is so dark a fate that I don't feel comfortable sharing it online. In a school's hierarchy, people like those two women, or Derrick and the vice headmaster, get on a power trip, but the instant they step away from that environment... they're nobody.

What would Derrick take with him when he'd graduate? Knowledge? He never put any effort into his studies. Connections? He's got his small circle of nobles, but the prefects and Derrick's victims are a much bigger one--not to mention they're a part of other powerful families like the Druitts that could both figuratively and literally bury him without anyone batting an eye. The prefects would more than likely end up expelled after the event, but all that free time would just give them plenty of opportunities to build up a grudge and cook up revenge. And when things get tough, chances are, those so-called friends of Derrick's that are just as morally bankrupt and follow him around for money are going to kick him to the side.

Derrick's a noble and the family heir at that, so it's unlikely he'd go for a traditional job. More than likely, as soon as he got out of Weston, his family would start pushing him into more adult social circles and prepare him to take over as the next Marques. Here though is where the true consequences of his actions would take over. Because with the prefects expelled, they'll have likely already been in those same circles. Even if his social standing wasn't destroyed, barring him and potentially his family as a whole from things like business deals or marriages... Derrick would by no means be fit to run his family's household. He'd either drag his entire family to ruin; end up revealing his lies to his parents, who'd then strip him of his status as the heir; or both. Even if his family still keeps him afloat with their wealth, if he doesn't know how to manage it, he'll still end up destitute or dead.

Could he grow after that? Maybe. People can change. However, given how many people he's hurt and the severity of his actions, it's not easy to say that others would be willing to give him a second chance.

[lena-kelley-oiar]

I think a lot about religion when it comes to my own life. My father was an atheist, my mother a Catholic. When my father passed away, she insisted I join the church.

I never believed in a literal God, though I found the concept fascinating. The idea of an all-powerful, omniscient higher power that will punish you if you disobey its holy word. After I left the church once more at the age of 23, just when I was starting my career at the OIAR, I soon realised I'd replaced that concept with the real thing. In this way, I had made God real. A God that monitored my every move. A God that punished me when I disobeyed. A God I worshipped out of fear. I was no longer a Catholic, but in a way, I was more religious than I had been back when I'd been studying to become a priest.

Another aspect of religion that fascinates me is the role of a man as compared to the role of a woman. The man, son of Adam, son of God, is a representation of humanity as a whole. Mankind. Whereas the woman is a mere extension of the man; Eve, Adam's rib, or a vessel for divinity; the Virgin Mary. The role of a woman is to be with a man, the role of a mother is to birth divinity into existence. Birth is an act of creation, and in this way, God is a mother, as well. The mother of all life.

My mother always treated me as her son. Her first and only child had to be a man, so she deluded herself into thinking I was something I wasn't, and made me play along. In the church, everyone seemed to accept me as a man with no further comment; I was an altar boy and a priest in training, I wore my father's old suits, I was the man of my household. The very image of the divine, holy, righteous masculine, in the body of a cisgender woman.

When I left the church, I didn't leave my cross necklace, nor my masculinity. These are things I held onto, things I gave a new meaning to. In this, I defied creation itself, I remade myself; the very image of ragged, contemptable, submissive masculinity. A man with no family, a man who worked on sundays instead of attending church, a man who turned to alcohol and lust to escape his worldly problems. A heretic and a sinner.

There is a pride in that, I suppose. In taking their holy masculinity, and twisting it to suit my own way of life. In knowing she's up there, shaking her head down at me in disappointment.

Look to me now, Holy Mother. Your firstborn son, with blood on his father's suit.