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#there's no such thing as man made climate change
houseofpendragons · 24 hours
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New Ideas for HOTD Alicent Fashion pt.2
So technically the last one I did for Alicent was apart of a Rhaenyra one, but for continuity sake this is my second outfit redesign for a younger Queen Alicent Hightower.
The dress in question we’re changing is one that will be changed in both scenes it’s worn. One will be a new dress entirely but the other will be just mentally recreating it to look more like the concept art.
The scenes are the dismissal of her father as Hand & The confrontation between she and Rhaenyra about the rumor that had her father dismissed:
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I actually love this❤️❤️❤️ it’s just missing a little something, so when comparing these two pics:
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If you notice these look exactly the same, except the black is darker, perhaps a velvet, the gold embroidery is more in the form of a design and brighter. The necklace is also more regal looking, bigger than the ones we saw her wear in her girlhood as a noble Lady. Those are the things they should’ve kept for the design of the dress in this scene, she’d look more like an actual Targaryen royal of the time. No offense but the dress that made the cut is kinda bland in tone.
The hair as well, she went for a jeweled hairnet to back to her girlhood hairstyles, precisely why I wish they would’ve kept the braided jeweled crown. It makes her seem more mature (despite her not being but jewelry can be a mask just as much as makeup sometimes) and more royal. She could even still keep it in this half held up hairdo just with the jeweled braided crown/twist added into it:
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And the last thing about it the to want to say, the cape would’ve been awesome to see and it would’ve fit the scene. It was raining and she had a man carrying an umbrella for her, I think she’d have that cool ass cape too. Again makes her look more regal, more queen like, more mature.
The next time she wears it that I’d like to change, when she confronted Rhaenyra. A tense scene.
However at this point in time is when she is the most conflicted between her marriage to her husband and her “duty” to her house. I feel she’d reflect that in a representation of both houses. More so red, almost as if adding green was an afterthought, bc I rather think it would be a last minute decision for Alicent to add a green sash or piece of fabric to her usually Targaryen adoption in appearance. A way to feel close to her father by wearing the colors of the house she was born from (just like I headcanon she wore blue as a child to feel close to her mother; Helena Cuy, look it up where I go on a whole rant).
That in mind, imagine something similar to this:
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The green being held in place at her neck, Targaryen dragon scales but in gold (perhaps a subtle nod toward Sunfyre/Aegon), it comes to wrap around her waist like a belt, tied at one side the remainder of the green fabric falls free on her left side of her hips down side by side the red dress. Also from the neckline, a half cape of green coming to cover her right side, thin gold chains reaching out from the neckline to hide beneath the half cape.
The red dress underneath would suit the summer climate/warmer climate of the time in the Red Keep, it’s just the right shade of Targaryen red, not to mention the red dress isn’t what really makes the dress but really what is meant to catch ur eye is that she’s wearing green for the first time in a long time. It meant to be hinting at her internal battles. Ofc her cleavage wouldn’t be exposed as depicted so it’s have a higher neckline, perhaps some simple gold and/or black embroidery to enhance it a bit.
Her hair would be something else to consider, thinking back to how we want it to be more mature and queen like. So perhaps a head peace or a jeweled net?
A mixture of these two would suffice:
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The first picture is my favorite one and the main inspo for how I’d have done her hair, the pearls, the way her hair is twisted at the top with her bun being kept nice and beautiful in a net. The only thing I’d add from the second photo is the gold lace around the edges of the net, as well as the braid surrounding that as a whole. I’d also take the bands and add them loosely to the bottom part of her hair left down.
As for jewelry, they could’ve taken inspo from actual royal jewels. Something like this for Alicent:
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Like I said the look starting originally as her traditional Targaryen Queen attire, with her Hightower symbolism added as an afterthought. Some small pearls could be added between diamond to go more with the pearls in her hair (although I think I might see some pearls in there but I might be dumb).
As for the earrings they could be something like this:
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Again incorporating pearls into them or straight up replacing the diamonds entirely.
It’s just Queenly. It’s appeasing to the eyes. And it’s what I expect people to design royal fashion as to look like in period/historical dramas when you’ve proven yourself not concerned with accuracy or if it is a style fantasy gown.
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jimkirkachu · 2 years
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So... in 90-something-degree (F) weather with a hundred-something-degree heat index, there's a group of about 15 people Running. from, like... point A to point B all the way across town to raise money for X/Y/Z charity. (Led by a slow-moving ambulance which is ostensibly there as an escort but which I REALLY hope is equipped to help in case any of the runners pass out from heat stroke, sun stroke, exhaustion, dehydration, etc.)
Yet all I can think as they pass by is, "Why in the world is This the way we humans raise money for charities??" These people are out RUNNING in one of the most lethal heat waves in recorded human history?? And that's really the best way to get other people to either contribute to a cause or become aware of a cause??
(I mean, mad respect to these folks for Caring that much about something. And yes, I do know about crowdfunding. And I think it's great, although I hate that it's gotten to be—in the US, anyway—essentially an emergency support-network substitute for health insurance/social security for so many people because our healthcare system is so f***ed up, but I digress.)
I just... *keysmash* I'm a cynic through and through, I consider myself to be professionally depressed—but even I refuse to believe that a dozen people putting their health and possibly their lives on the scorching pavement like this is truly the most efficient means of fundraising or spreading awareness for a charity, because honestly... how broken is our society that this is what charitable organizations have come to? It just seems like utter brutality to me.
(Disclaimer: I fully understand that I could be 100% wrong. I don't lead or work for a 501(c)3, I'm not an athlete, and I'm definitely not a runner, so maybe these folks actually derive some kind of enjoyment out of these charity runs. 🤷 But... in this kind of heat?? I don't buy it.)
Isn't there some way to fundraise for Good Causes that would be actually conscientious toward all parties involved? Like... I don't know. Have people pledge 50 cents for every piece of litter you pick up on a charity walk, and all the walkers go through a different neighborhood in town, and on their own time, when it's not dangerous to their health or safety to do so (aka not exerting their bodies to the maximum capacity at high noon on a sunny over-100-degree day). Or raise five dollars for every row of soil you till or seed in a community garden or something.
No clue what my point is here, but having a gaggle of already toxically-thinspo-looking people try to jog down the road on one of the hottest days of the year while sweating out what I can only imagine is every possible nutrient left in their bodies just doesn't feel like "the answer." 🤔
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david-watts · 1 year
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it reached almost 33 degrees here today probably higher because the weather station’s all the way out by the fucking river and it’s always milder than it actually is lol anyway I was just thinking ‘man my room would be Literally unliveable if I didn’t have air conditioning’ and then I thought ‘well this house was built somewhere around 1960 so when they built it they wouldn’t have had air conditioning so I can deal with it’ not only did fans exist and arguably the fans from then were probably better than the piece of shit from kmart that I had once considering that they hadn’t quite yet discovered they could make the absolute worst thing to sell for cheap. but also I looked up the 1966 temperature records (from a previous location that’s more accurate to here, they didn’t have 1960 though. I actually should’ve done 1967 since that’s when we moved here but oh well) and not only did it only get above thirty twice, and only about seven times did it get above twenty-seven. for the whole year. we’ve had five days above that this month. and most days in the really hot months of the year was twenty to twenty-four degrees. THAT’S COOL FOR JANUARY NOW.
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callmelinamfsnow · 2 years
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I be feeling a little weird thirsting over Aidan and then I remember we’re literally just 11 months in age difference. 💀
This is probably one of my first age appropriate celebrity crush and I’m like “oooo is this too much to say about him” bUT ITS NOT MY FAULT THE REST OF YOU AREN’T AS TURNED ON BY HIM AS ME !
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roosterforme · 16 days
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In the Line of Duty | Rooster x Reader
Summary: During preparations for a dangerous mission, Bradley finds comfort in writing his thoughts down for his unborn child to eventually read. There's always a chance that he won't make it back, and his final plans involve safeguarding the most important item he brought on his deployment with him.
Warnings: Angst, deployment, pregnancy topics
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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Bradley was in the same tiny room with the same seven people for the nineteenth day in a row. He was sweating, too aware of his surroundings. He could hear Reuben breathing next to him. He could hear Admiral Turner's wristwatch counting off every second. He could hear the plans being laid out, but he could barely focus on them.
"The political climate is rapidly changing," the admiral said. "This bombing run is essential, however it will undoubtedly lead to a hostile environment for our allies. Getting the timing just right is essential to a successful mission."
He'd been telling the aviators the same things for days, and while Bradley knew somebody's best interest was at heart, he wasn't really sure it was his. Or Reuben's. Or anybody's in this fucking claustrophobic room. But what choice did he have but to sit here in his flight suit, reeking of jet fuel until he was released?
"Also," Admiral Turner said, his voice laced with exhaustion, "we'll be keeping a close watch on the weather. If you fly this mission, it's going to be a rough takeoff and an even rougher landing. And that's not even mentioning the elements you'll encounter in the air."
Bradley could feel it. The aircraft carrier was a massive vessel, nothing like a cruise ship or anything smaller. It was built to withstand typhoons and hurricanes, but he could still feel it. The movement was getting worse by the hour now. There were deckhands and petty officers walking around with seasickness bags. People were running from the mess hall left and right. The only thing that could be said of this small group of aviators in this tiny ass room was that professional fighter pilots had all traces of motion sickness eliminated from their bodies during flight training, never to be heard from again. He wasn't uncomfortable, but he could still feel it.
"And with that final precaution, I've made my selection for the three pilots who will fly when I say it's time to go." Bradley knew it in his bones even before he heard the admiral say, "Vandal. Patches. Rooster. Everyone else will remain on standby. You're all dismissed."
As he stood, Reuben stuck his fist out. "Congrats, man," he said, and Bradley reached out as well to bump fists. Being chosen was an accomplishment; Bradley always wanted to be chosen. He always wanted to perform to the best of his ability. But his thoughts were so heavy now, filled with new hopes and fears. 
"Thanks, Payback," he replied, following his friend from the room and into the noisy reprieve of the cool hallway. There were people rushing around as the two of them made their way to the mess hall. "But if I have to sit in that room for another day, I'm going to lose my mind."
Reuben laughed as he started to load a tray with food. "I love how the weather is too bad for us to do any training runs, but in the same sentence, we're told to be ready to fly a mission in this. It's like they're steering us right into the worst of the storm."
They were. Bradley could tell they were. There was something strategic about the open water location, but they were absolutely heading into the worst of it. He just hoped it would clear up before he was called out on deck to fly. 
"It's a good thing I haven't barfed in a Super Hornet since that very first time," he said, also piling food that he knew would taste like cardboard onto a plate.
"This shit sucks," Reuben muttered, biting into a roll once they reached an empty table. "We got any more of your wife's cookies back in the bunk?"
Bradley smiled as he looked at the questionable meal in front of him. "A few." He bit into the steak and grimaced. Everything you cooked at home was better than this. He'd trade his whole plate of food right now for half of a grilled cheese sandwich made by your hands. Just thinking about it had his stomach growling louder. "You already ate most of them."
Reuben popped another roll into his mouth and chewed it up before saying, "Rooster, you've got a hot lieutenant commander who can cook for a wife. And a baby on the way. Come on, man. The least you can do is spare some more of those cookies."
Once he let his thoughts drift, Bradley knew it would take hours to get focused on his job again, but he couldn't help it. When he left home, you looked the same as you always did. You'd been complaining about your weight gain and bloating for weeks, but you looked just perfect to him. He wanted to get back home to see if you had a bump yet. He wanted to get home and talk to the Nugget. But he'd already been gone for three weeks, and he hadn't been given a single chance to call or FaceTime with you. 
He hated having no idea how your most recent doctor's appointment went. There were probably new ultrasound photos sitting right on the kitchen counter, but it could be weeks before he got to see how much the Nugget grew since last time. He should be a home, catering to your every whim and building the massive jungle gym for the backyard.
"Are you excited?" Reuben asked, breaking through his thoughts. "You've got what, like five more months to go before you're a dad?"
"One hundred and eighty-six days until the due date," Bradley replied with a grin. "And yeah, I'm pretty fucking excited. It's all I can think about." He tried to finish all of the food, but he set his plate aside and said, "Let's go eat some of those cookies."
An hour later, Bradley was sitting in his bunk, nibbling on the rationed baked goods while Reuben snored across the room. He took this opportunity to get out the pink and blue striped notebook which he affectionately referred to as the Nugget notebook. He'd filled half of it with his musings, and he figured it would be full by your due date. It was silly, just his random thoughts and some sporadic story telling, but he liked the idea of his kid having all of this to look at later. He uncapped his pen, jotted down the date, and started writing what was on his mind. 
You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about....
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The weather was so bad a few days later that the gym was closed. Bradley and Reuben stood in front of the locked door in their gym clothes looking at each other. 
"This is fucking wild," Bradley muttered, deprived of the only activity he could think of to keep himself busy. The hallways were pretty empty at this time of night, but everything still felt more deserted than usual. The dining menus had been pared down, presumably because half of the kitchen staff was too seasick to make everything. He was starting to feel anxious. "Let's go workout in the bunk and then finish the cookies."
"Sounds good," Reuben replied. They took turns churning out sets of fifty push ups while the other ate a cookie. They did this until they were both sweating and all of the cookies were officially gone.
"Now what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Bradley asked, but any response was cut off by a knocking on the door. He jumped up, glanced at Reuben, and then opened the door for a petty officer. 
"Bradshaw?"
"Yeah?"
"You requested a FaceTime call? Report to the lounge in thirty minutes."
"Thanks," he said, heart beating wildly as he closed the door. He rushed around the room, grinning and grabbing everything he'd need to take a quick shower.
Reuben just laughed and said, "Please thank her again for the cookies."
"Will do," Bradley replied, making a mad dash for the showers. If he did the math correctly, he figured it was between four and five o'clock in the morning back home in San Diego. He hated calling you in the middle of the night, especially when you were pregnant and exhausted, but he knew you'd forgive him. And he desperately needed to see your face and hear your voice.
His hair was still damp when he jogged along the quiet corridors toward the lounge and took a seat in front of one of the computers. He quickly entered his credentials followed by your phone number, and then he waited and waited. "Shit," he muttered, gripping the edge of the table, afraid the call was going to ring through and then cut off. But then he heard you screech his name and saw you as you reached for your glasses while the light from the lamp on your nightstand illuminated your face. 
"Bradley!" you practically screamed again, your voice scratchy from sleep. "Roo! Are you okay?"
"Hey, Baby Girl," he said, feeling calmer than he had in weeks as you juggled your phone around and tried to sit up fully in bed. "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."
"No, no, no, this is perfect!" you insisted, rubbing your eye behind your glasses as you tried to stifle a yawn. "This is great."
Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."
"Me too," you insisted, and he could see the sincerity on your face. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are."
He wanted to kiss you. He wished he could somehow dive through the screen and end up next to you where you'd pull him right into your arms. His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."
Your smile was soft, and you bit your lip. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."
"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his rough hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"
You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."
The fact that he knew that's where they would be made him smile. When you propped your phone up next to the stove and turned on the light, he felt tears stinging his eyes. You held up one of the photos so he could see the baby, and he had to blink past his blurry vision. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."
Your laughter sounded beautiful as you showed him a third one. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."
"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."
You pulled the baby picture away, and he could see your face again as you said, "You're probably not even joking."
"I'm definitely not even joking."
You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you said, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."
Now Bradley felt like crying for a totally different reason. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."
"Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."
Bradley looked at your beautiful face and the perfect curve of your cheek. He imagined a little baby in your arms with the same flawless features. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."
Your smile was brilliant as you told him, "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."
Bradley opened his mouth to say he couldn't wait to come home and spend a full day curled up with both of you. He was about to ask you to pull his UVA shirt up and let him see what your belly looked like now. But the lounge door swung open so hard, it sounded like it was going to fall off the hinges.
"Bradshaw!" barked Admiral Turner. "It's time. Get into your flight suit."
"Yes, Sir," he said before glancing back down to see your face as you started to cry.
"You have to go," you sobbed.
"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."
"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."
"I'll be home soon," he promised, even though he knew he couldn't guarantee anything of the sort. "I love you."
After he ended the call, he ran back to the bunk where Reuben was already in his flight suit and pulling on his boots. It was late enough now that it had to be dark outside, so he was either about to fly another mission without the use of one of his senses, or they were sending him out at first light. Either way, he knew what he had to do, so he pulled his own flight suit on with shaky hands.
The call with you had calmed his nerves right up until the point when he had to abruptly end it. What he wouldn't give to be back home within a week. He'd drive you to the appointment in his Bronco and hold your hand the whole time. Dr. Morris would let you know if he was going to be the dad to a daughter or a son. His little Nugget.
"You ready?" Reuben asked as Bradley finished lacing up his boots. 
He looked up at his friend as he stood. "Actually, no," he said, pulling his duffle out from under his bed. He started rooting through it as he said, "I need you to potentially do me a favor."
"Sure," Reuben replied, "but we gotta get to the meeting room now, Rooster."
"I know," he mumbled in response as his hands connected with the most important thing he had with him. He held up the pink and blue notebook, his voice calm in spite of his nerves as he said, "Just real quick, you see this? I need you to take this back to my wife if anything happens to me."
His friend was silent for a beat before he said, "Alright. I can do that."
Bradley's fingers tightened around the spiral binding holding together all of his thoughts about fatherhood and how much he loved his unborn child. And now his voice shook a bit as he said, "This is very important to me."
Reuben nodded and said, "Understood. I promise I'll take care of it if the need arises."
"Thank you." Bradley kissed the striped cover and propped the notebook up against his pillow, giving it one last look before he followed Reuben from the bunk.
At first light, Bradley made his way out onto the carrier deck through the rain and whistling wind. The mission was on. The weather was miserable, but the plethora of Naval officers deemed this the best opportunity they were going to get to help their allies. 
It was time. Time for Bradley to trust himself. And if he failed, he trusted Reuben to take the notebook back to San Diego and get it into the hands of his wife. Then you'd take care of the notebook for the Nugget. Because if there was one person who was never going to let him down, it was you.
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I can't deal with how much I've been hurting my own feelings with these two. Should we start a new series? Would that be okay? A tragic, new series? Thank you for reading about and loving them! Please stay tuned. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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xox000xox · 5 months
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I wish more people were talking like this. It's really just common sense stuff.
___
MIT Professor Of Meteorology, There’s Little Evidence Of Man-Made Climate Change
“It’s about, is the temperature increasing or decreasing. It's always doing one or the other. I have no concern about that. By asking people to worry about whether it's going up or down, you're immediately establishing dishonesty.
The earth is always changing. Climate change is nothing you have to prove. It always is happening. It always has happened.
So to make that into something alarming seems to me a little bit weird. Sea level is a hard thing to measure actually. At any given place traditionally sea level was measured by what are called tide gauges, a stick in the water basically. And two things change what a tide gauge shows, the land moving up and down and the sea moving up and down.
https://twitter.com/WallStreetApes/status/1730096460648390676
@OneStopPatriot
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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months
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talk me down - vince dunn
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vince dunn x gender neutral! reader
summary: after a late game penalty and a frustrating shootout loss, vince is in a bad mood. good thing he has you to make him feel better
warnings: mentions of violence, langauge, angry vinny, a bit of angst but mostly fluff
word count: 1.2k
as the whistle blew with only a few minutes left in overtime, you ran a hand over your face in frustration as a penalty was called on your boyfriend, vince dunn, for deliberately whacking another player with his stick. while there should have been a call for the opponent holding and tripping vince, the way that vince had reacted was unnecessary. you’re making it worse, you thought, as he punched fiala in the face, nearly hitting him with his stick before the refs separated them. even in the stands you could hear dunn swearing his head off, and you were shocked he didn’t get more than a 2 minute penalty for what he’d done. thankfully los angeles wasn’t able to take advantage of the extra man on the ice and score a goal, but things went to the shootout and eventually the game ended in favour of the kings.
a cloud of disappointment hung heavy in the air of climate pledge arena as kraken fans filed out, without a win but still with a point as the players left the ice. you sighed as you stood up from your seat, the other players wives and girlfriends who had been at the game also getting up to go find their partners. they were talking about the game, and while you could have joined their conversation, you were more concerned with vince. you made your way to the back and waited impatiently for him to come out of the locker room.
after what felt like forever - the team surely having had a long talk with their coach about the events of the game - a familiar curly haired brunette emerged from the doorway, a scowl on his face.
“hey,” you said softly as you stood up, walking over and grabbing his hand gently. to your surprise he didn’t pull it away, but didn’t say anything, simply tilting his head in the direction of the exit. getting the message that he just wanted to go home, you nodded, walking with him out to your car and getting in the drivers seat, and the two of you began a silent drive home.
when you arrived home to his house, he went straight upstairs without a word, and you heard the sound of a door slamming upstairs as he disappeared into your shared bedroom. you grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, your fingers anxiously tapping the granite counter tops as you sighed. you hated seeing him like this; beyond frustrated and tired. you knew he would never do anything to hurt you, you also understood that it was best to give him some space and time to cool down when he got like this. you took a seat on the sectional in the living room and scrolled through different apps on your phone, avoiding anything you saw about the game. about 15 minutes went by before you began to yawn, and decided to head upstairs to find vince.
as you walked into the bedroom, you saw him laying face down on the bed, his head at the wrong end. his one arm was hanging over the edge while the other was folded under his head like a pillow. he had discarded his clothes except for his sweatpants, and you admired the toned muscles of his back that were on display as he lay turned away from the door. it was clear he had just collapsed onto the bed, the blanket barely covering his legs and crumpled from being kicked aside. you quietly got changed into some shorts and one of vince’s t-shirts, before padding over to the bed and sitting down next to him.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his arm and the mattress. reaching towards him you brushed your fingers through his messy curls, shaking your head, though he couldn’t see you.
“you don’t have to apologize to me,” you assured him.
“i still am.”
“i know,” you replied, moving closer to him as you let your hands travel down to his shoulders, gently massaging the tense muscles. he shivered slightly at the feeling of your hands on the back of his neck, but then sighed softly as you worked at the knots in his back, trying to relieve some of the tension from the game. you spent about 10 minutes in silence, and you were honestly beginning to think vince had fallen asleep, until he spoke again.
“i’ll be lucky if i don’t get suspended or fined,” he said, groaning softly as you kneaded a particularly sore spot on his lower back.
“yeah,” you agreed cautiously. “i’m sorry, vinny; i really don’t know what to say.”
“now who’s apologizing?” he laughed dryly, and while it was bittersweet, it was the first hint of a smile you’d heard in his voice all night. “i fucked up, i have to deal with the consequences.”
“that’s true. but they should have called a penalty on the other guy.”
“yeah well i guess they thought otherwise. i didn’t exactly make the situation any better. i think i owe joey an apology for sending us to the shootout,” he gave another halfhearted laugh.
“i wouldn’t say it’s your fault it went to a shootout. give me your other arm,” you instructed, having finished massaging the arm you could reach. vince rolled over onto his back, looking up at you as he extended his right arm into your lap.
“i guess it doesn’t matter in the end,” he sighed, watching you as your hands ran up and down his bicep, soothing the tired aching beneath his skin.
“you guys still got a point,” you said optimistically, trying to look on the bright side of a shitty end to the night. vince smiled at you, the admiring gaze going unnoticed as you continued pampering him.
“yeah,” he mumbled, as you lifted his hand, playing with his fingers gently. “thank you.” you finally looked at him, his eyes tired but full of love as he stared back at you.
“anytime,” you smiled warmly, and giggling softly as vince opened his arms for you to crawl into. you laid down next to him, letting him pull you into his side as he stared up at the ceiling. you closely admired each freckle and detail of his face, and if life were a cartoon your eyes would have had hearts popping out of them.
“i love you,” you spoke quietly, placing a few kisses on his cheek. he turned his face toward you, your foreheads pressing together as he bumped his nose against yours softly.
“i love you,” he whispered. “i don’t know what i would do without you,” he admitted, kissing the tip of your nose, and then your forehead before pulling you closer, tucking your head under his chin.
“you’d have a stiffer back for one-“ you were interrupted by your own laugh as he tickled your side, and you smiled as you curled your body into him, inhaling the scent of his body wash that lingered on his skin from his post-game shower. “okay - okay i’m done.”
“goodnight baby,” he squeezed you tightly in his arms before reaching over and turning off the lamp next to the bed. a wave of tiredness washed over you as the darkness in the room enveloped you, and you quickly fell asleep.
vince laid awake for a little while, listening to the tiny snores that fell from your lips as you slept. whatever repercussions were to come from tonight, and whether they had lost the game or not, he had you, and that was a win in his mind.
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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theriverbeyond · 6 months
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how do we know in the books that john is indigenous? can you say more about how his indigeneity is important to his story?
hello! so there is a word of god post on race (doesn't mention John but mentions that Gideon is "mixed Maori"), BUT I frankly don't think word of god statements are worth any weight without actual in-text support (see: the "dumbledore is gay" situation). SO!
Specific evidence that John Gaius is Maori, as revealed in Nona the Ninth:
When he is listing his education, John mentions having gone to Dilworth School (John 20:8). Dilworth is an all boys boarding school in Auckland and accepts students based on financial need instead of academic or sporting achievements. Demographics appear to be about 70% low income Maori boys, indicating that it is highly likely that John is Maori
John reports that P- said he looked like a "Maori-TV pink panther" (John 15:23) when his eyes turned gold. Maori TV is a TV station that is focused primarily on Maori culture & language revitalization, with presumably all or mostly Maori hosts, and tbh I don't see why P- would say this unless John was himself Maori
John uses a te reo Māori phrase ("kia kaha, kia māia") (John 5:20) when he is saying goodbye to the corpses in the cryo lab before the power is shut off. Though it is possible he said this as a non-Maori kiwi, but in combination with the previous two points of evidence I think this all very strongly points to him being Maori
He also renames his daughter Kiriona Gaia, "Kiriona" being just literally the name "Gideon" in te reo Māori
TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter but to ME this is all pretty solid proof
Why is this relevant to The Locked Tomb?
In Nona the Ninth, we learn that before he completed apotheosis and ate the solar system, John was basically trying to save the earth from capitalism-caused climate change. Climate justice and the rights of indigenous people over their own land are deeply tied together, in the same way that climate catastrophe and capitalism/ imperialism/ colonialism are linked. disclaimer that this is NOT my area of study and others have definitely said it better; this is just the basic gist as I understand it, but on quick search I found some sources here and here if you want to do some reading.
TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter, but i don't think it is a stretch to see John as an indigenous man trying to save the earth and getting ignored and shut down at every turn by primarily western colonial powers (PanEuro, the USA) who declare him a terrorist and then as a reader thematically connecting that to the experience of indigenous climate activists IRL
there are absolutely TLT meta posts that have discussed this before me; tumblr search is nonfunctional and I have been looking for an hour and a half and cannot find anything specific even though i KNOW i reblogged multiple posts about this in the first few weeks following NTN's release. sad & I am sorry
I think that by the time the books take place, John is 10k years removed from the cultural context he grew up in, with the Nine Houses having become a genocidal colonial power in their own right (with more parallels to be made between John's forever war for the resources of literal life energy and like, oil wars), but I also think that John Gaius is a fictional character who can represent and symbolize multiple different things in service of telling a story. (not to mention the potential thematic parallels being made to how oppressed people sometimes are pressed into replicating the power dynamics of their oppressors and continuing the cycle--now that is a tumblr post i KNOW i read last year and definitely cannot find right now, once again sad & I am sorry)
How Radical Was John Gaius, Really is a forum thread that was locked by the moderators after 234534645674564 pages of heated debate
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open-sketchbook · 4 months
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... okay that post going around about the wind rises is fucking killing me. no, the movie doesn't go to nazi germany to admire nazi engineering. the movie goes to nazi germany, portrayed as a nightmare where the gestapo chases people through the streets, a nightmare the myopic main characters are blind to because they get distracted by the shiny planes.
there, they admire the work of hugo junkers, who their company made a deal with eight years prior. the man who will, a year later, lose his airplane business because he refused to build warplanes for the nazis, who takes the principled stand that Jiro fails to. who sees the same visions Jiro does and has the courage to say no.
the film is not fucking subtle about how germany and japan are both lurching toward a monumentally monstrous and stupid thing, a thing that Jiro just kind of ignores because he's infatuated with his art, with his planes. this is, you know, the central theme of the movie, which sees the man neglect his dying wife to draft more blueprints?!?
no, the movie does not look at the screen and go "this is a bad thing" because its not a movie for fucking four year olds, but if you think the movie ending with a character standing in a nightmare hellscape of all his broken dreams, his wife dead and country in ruins, going "yeah but we built a nice airplane" isn't a statement about that fucking guy, you've very much missed the point.
and look, the wind rises is not even, really, about history. the film is a metaphor for what it feels like to dedicate yourself to making art under capitalism. it's about how Miyazaki feels about his legacy. it's about dedicating yourself to your craft at the eve of destruction (be it World War Two or climate change driven by capitalist consumption) and knowing that the beautiful thing you are making is contributing to it. it's about the nightmare of knowing you can't control your art after you release it, disgust knowing what you make will be used to advance causes you despise.
its a complex and raw movie, a meditation on despair and pain and pride. there's conversations to be had about how responsible it is as a film, but you are not having that conversation because you are incapable of anything more that the barest surface read.
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nor-4 · 23 days
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Soooo Anxious
Oscar Diaz x Reader
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It's been a really hot day the degree keeps increasing definitely because of climate change, those damn uncaring did this if only they cared more about the earth.
Good thing you are nice enough to make a Popsicles and snacks for everyone outside since they nag oscar to hang out and fix Oscar's car.
"God why is it so hot outside, I think I'm about to evaporate." Jamal squealed as he roughly swing the fan around, "Boy if you don't shut your mouth I wi-" Oscar was cutted off when you slam the door with you foot as you carry a tray of foods with both of your hands.
"Oh cesar you didn't told me you will be having your friends over." You said luckily you have more popsicles inside as you didn't include Jamal and the others on the list, "I didn't even know, they just passed by." Cesar stated receiving a smack from monse.
"Who's that?? She's so hot.." Jamal whispered as he scooted over to cesar as he eye you up and down, "I know right." Ruby popped out out of nowhere they arrived with him here but they just forgot him.
"If I were you I will not even say that." Cesar said as he catch a glimpse of his brother giving a side eye on Jamal and Ruby. He for sure knew what they said.
"Monse, Jasmine, dear I'm so happy you guys are here." you happily squealed as you walk near cesar to do a beso with monse and jasmine. Monse is like a little sister for you, you are the first person she run to everytime she has this girl problems, same goes jasmine. You are just old to be their sister, a sister that will have a girls night with them.
As for jamal and ruby they were quietly waiting for you to approach them and also do a beso on them but instead you just shook their hands, even though they are still grateful.
"Good thing i made more popsicles, wait.." As you started walking again inside as the two horny boys watch you walk with agape mouth, looking at your clothing which really fit your body. It will for sure make every man's hungry eyes full.
"Oy cesar, what this little friends of your staring for." Oscar said standing up from sitting on the small chair he own to use everytime he fix his wheels. "What who's staring, hey monse stop staring it's bad." jamal said nervously slapping over monse's arms earning a slap back from her.
"Been telling them that." cesar just shrugged walking to get a popsicle since heat have been bothering him since this morning, "You little putas better stop eye fucking my girl before i pull them out." oscar threatened as he started washing his hands so he can eat.
"Stop acting like a bitch in heat now oscar." You scolded as you handed out the popsicles on everyone, "Come on ma I'm just saying." oscar sighed in defeat.
Cesar still can't believe on how you can scold over oscar, he knows scolding on him is not a thing he would even tolerate. But look at you, you just make everything so peaceful by shutting oscar up.
"Here baby sit infront of the fan, it's been really smoking hot lately." Oscar offered quickly as he plugged the electric fan that jamal didn't even know it's there until oscar plugged it, "Thank you darling." You thanked as you touch his bicep after sitting on the chair.
"God she sound so hot, i wish she would call me that." ruby murmured as they sat comfortably infront of them watching oscar reach for a chair from God knows where and sat beside you.
"I swear this kids better stop looking at your boobs" oscar murmured as he stared back at jamal and ruby who was to focused on you, to shut oscar up from saying something about violent stuff you started feeding him with fries you made because you were craving.
"You made this? It's really good." jasmine asked as she almost choked from swallowing it all the way without even chewing it, good thing monse has a heavy hands to slap Jasmine's back.
"Yes i did, thank you.." You said it made you a bit shy but you love it when someone praises your cooking skills, "Do you want a drink monse? I heard the temperature will get higher later, you need to be hydrated." Cesar asked as he placed a hand on monse's shoulder.
"Yes please." Monse said as cesar quickly stood up to get a drink on the kitchen, "Get my queen some too" oscar commanded as you smack his face.
"You're being too cringe you know."
"Come on, i cannot care for my girl now?"
"Do you want me to tie your hair up?" Oscar asked again but this time more sincere than his sarcadm earlier, "Yes please baby, thank you." You said as your back faced oscar to tie your hair up.
It took a long time for oscar to learn on how to tie your hair so everytime it's getting hot you wouldn't even need to do an effort to tie your hair, plus oscar always carry two of your hair ties on his wrist just in case you forgot one.
After tying your hair up he kissed you shoulder like a light weight of feather which made both of you giggled like a high school teenagers as you face him, oscar used to be a not so affectionate significant others. But by the time being on a relationship with you he learned that it's very important to do, it's his favorite language of love.
He loves to touch you feel you in his hands, to hug you on a cold night, to hold you when you feel sad, to hold you and make you know that nothing can really change his love for you.
Another thing is he used his confidence to compliment you every second, to assure you, to tell you how much he loves you how much you meant to him.
"God I've never been more jealous in my life.." ruby murmured as he sadly munch on his burger.
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queenpiranhadon · 29 days
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𖤓⎸⎸ 𝐄𝐞𝐥 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 ⎸⎸𖤓
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A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting (((again) again) again), we have this :) I’ll be honest though, I have mixed thoughts about this. Nova, I owe you my life for beta reading this ily girl (@that-multi-fandom-hijabi) Go follow her writing acc! (@novaaaaaa-writes) Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune
Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of blood, reader's a baddie, reader used to work for Azula, bad depictions of firebending, maybe some inaccuracies idk man, some people might be ooc idk 😅, thoughts about death (like once), lots of buildup, reader is a good cook, reader owns a restaurant, reader sets a table on fire, both of them are very attracted to each other lmao, reader refuses to fire bend, I kinda head cannoned, basically if a firebender doesn't firebend of a certain amount of time, the fire inside them builds up and can damage the wielder, like clogged pipe in a way, love at first sight (?), slowburn kinda, reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind.
Pairing: Sokka x Firebender!Reader
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It was safe to say, you were screwed. Traitor to the Fire Nation and all. 
“Ugh…” you grit out, patting your side in discomfort, pulling your hand away to find sticky blood.  
It was safe to say that Princess Azula wasn’t too happy to find out you didn’t approve of the current ideals of the Fire Nation. Alas, you were too far deep into her scheme to leave then, and you were now- but this time, you ran away.  
You weren’t going to find the Avatar- joining him would only make things harder on yourself- especially since he and his friends most definitely hated you for all the stunts you pulled alongside the son and daughter of Firelord Ozai.  
So you were left with two options. Sit in the dark and disgusting alleyway you were hiding in and bleed to death, or find somewhere to stay, patch yourself up, and bunker down with a new identity. 
If there’s one thing the Fire Nation would underestimate about you- it was your will to live. 
The journey to the Earth Kingdom was torturous, your aching feet would be screaming in overexertion, yet you pushed on. Solitude was your only solace, though the lack of social interaction guaranteed nothing would stop the onslaught of dark thoughts entering your mind, it was comforting to you that you were finally free to make your own decisions without anyone else influencing them. 
You reached the gates of the Earth Kingdom battered and bruised- the month of so that you traveled for changed your appearance quite a bit- your hair slightly longer and the numerous different climates you had suffered through allowed your hair to settle into gentle waves. You got thinner, lack of food turning you into a near skeleton, but the muscles you had trained your whole life remained, and you were stronger than ever. Obviously, the guards didn’t recognize you, letting you pass without a hitch under a fake name. 
You found a kind older woman in the outer ring of Ba Sing Se, who offered you take you in for the night. 
There, you enjoyed a soothing bath and a good meal, and she was pleasant company. You slept on the couch that night, and left early the next morning, leaving a few gold coins as a subpar payment for her hospitality. 
And then you were on your own again. 
Days passed, and then months, you worked almost every job under the sun as you finally scrounged up enough money to open your own store. 
It was a nice and quaint restaurant, and you worked your blood, sweat, and tears into it- and that was a statement, you rarely cried. Not anymore anyways- experiencing so much loss does that to people. 
You called it the Unagi- your restaurant known for its excellent soups and eel rolls, both of which were comfort foods growing up. Even though you vowed to start a new life, and throw your old one behind, you kept this part of your old life with you. You stopped bending, not a single spark or flame left your fingertips after the day you left the Fire Nation. 
Months passed, 7 to be exact, and you had built quite the reputation in Ba Sing Se- travelers from all over had some solely to try your food, and they were not disappointed. Your cooking prowess as a force to be reckoned with- and you enjoyed in immensely. For the first time in years, you were happy. 
Of course, rush hour was the most overwhelming experience you had ever had to experience- as you refused to hire anyone to assist you run your shop- your trust had run thin, and you weren’t going to risk the product of your hard work to anyone. Eventually, you learned to keep all your ingredients preprepared- and then cook them in your soups and put them in your rolls the morning of each day, so that they were all fresh and it was less work for you. All your customers were understanding, and respected you for your time and work. People loved your story- a stranger and a traveler with basically next to nothing, and then turned your life around in just a few months. 
After a few months, you practically knew all the gossip in the city- always overhearing the snippets of murmurs from your customers. Usually, you paid no mind to them, but today, what you heard stopped you in your tracks.  
“Did you hear?”  
“Yeah! The Avatar and his crew were spotted at the gates this morning!” 
“Do you think Ba Sing Se is in trouble?!” 
“I hope not, after what happened in the Northern Wa-” 
You stopped listening after that, going back to the kitchen with the blood roaring in your ears. You stirred the soup you were making with a new intensity, as it your life depended on it. Dread pooled in your stomach- if the Avatar and his friends came around the Unagi, you were done for. The Avatar would recognize you, the only one to have seen you without the normal mask you wore- and the only one out of the group you had met.  
You sighed, deciding to ignore the fear you felt. Months of peace wore down your guard a little bit, and you were used to forcing your body into a state of ease after the first few weeks you had stayed in the city- nightmares plaguing you day and night. They were gone now, thankfully, but if the Avatar and his friends destroyed everything you worked so hard to maintain, you might break.  
Fortunately, weeks went by without a hitch, no sign of the Avatar, and no sign of the Unagi being burnt down.  
One day, on a relatively quiet day, you hear a few voices outside. 
“Here Sokka, Toph, take some gold and treat yourself to some food, I hear this place is really good.” A female voice says, she sounded around 14-15 years old. “We’ll meet you back in the square- bring some for the rest of us.”  
You don’t hear much of what the girl says afterwards, opting to resume taking orders. That’s when you lay your eyes on the boy in front of you. He had a wolf’s knot, something you knew to be common in the water tribe. He had the build of a warrior, toned muscles littered with scars that you knew weren't achieved easily. And his eyes, a brilliant shade of blue you thought you could get lost in, a pleasant contrast to the red of the Fire Nation you would be tied to for the rest of your life. 
It takes you a few minutes to realize you were staring, and a few more to realize that he was too. You cough into your fist awkwardly and look away, realizing you had company. 
The young girl next to him slams a few pieces of gold onto the counter, but you, unlike the boy across from you, didn’t flinch – you were used to it. “Whaddya got for us, lady?” she asks in a brash tone, but you weren’t intimidated, nor were you offended, but the boy you were staring at earlier still apologizes on her behalf.  
You chuckle lightly, it amused you to see the energy in the two of them as you respond to the girl’s question. “The gold can get you some soup with some salmon, along with eel rolls, on the house.” you say, smiling lightly.  
The boy’s eyes light up in excitement, though he seemed a little older than you, there was no mistaking that childish enthusiasm for a nice homecooked meal.  
“Can I get your name?” You ask, grabbing your notepad and quill to write down the order.  
“Sokka” he says, with a teasing sparkle in his eyes, and you can’t help but grin at his antics. It’s been a while since you felt like this. You, giddy over a crush? The feeling was a little foreign to you, but it wasn’t unwelcome.  
“And you?” he asks, leaning slightly over the counter. You reciprocate his movements, telling him your name and telling him and his friend to take a seat.  
Sokka and his friend, Toph, left shortly after, taking their soup to go and devouring their eel rolls. It was late now, you were sweeping up the floors, planning to leave and close the Unagi in an hour or so, before something unexpected happened.  
You feel a sharp pain in your chest collapsing to the ground, your insides felt like they were burning, invisible flames eating away and you. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, mind raging and all you could see what red.  
Why was this happening to you?  
You felt your body flare up in pain, and all you wanted was for it to stop for it to go away. 
“You will always be a part of the Fire Nation. “Azula had told you, with a manic look in her eye. “No matter how long you try to suppress it, your inner fire will never be satisfied. One day, your fire will turn against you, your body won’t be able to handle it anymore, no matter how strong you think you are. Let’s face it, you’re a monster, just like me.” 
You didn’t hear the jingle of the door opening.  
Letting out an anguished cry, you thrust out your arms, cerulean flames setting one of your tables on fire.  
And staring at you, through the blue flames, were those sparkling eyes you loved so much. Staring at you with disgust and horror.  
“Sokka, oh my god-” you say, in shock. 
“Who are you.” he cuts in, his eyes sharp and cold.  
“I-I swear, I’m not with the Fire Nation anymore, I-” You stutter, your throat closing in. You stumble back, staring at the flaming table with a horrified look in your eyes.  
Sokka looks at you, unsure of what to do. You were the enemy, you were a firebender, one who could wield blue flames. Yet... he knew you were telling the truth. You were the same person who kindly gave them free food and didn’t turn them away even with Toph’s brashness.  
He sighs, and looks around, before turning back to you. “C’mon, let’s go find my friends. My sister’s a waterbender, she’ll put out the fire for you.  
You just stand there numb, your body still reeling from the aftershocks of feeling so much pain. You didn’t realize you were crying until Sokka walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, letting your tears soak into the fabric of his shirt. He strokes your hair lightly and holds you close. He smelled earthy, a musk that reminded you of the scent you smelled after it rained, all natural and grounding, soothing your worries.  
“I’m here.” is all he says, and you stand like that, Sokka’s frame blocking the blue flames from your sight- a barrier between the life you live now, and the one you left behind.  
BONUS: 
After Sokka and you find Katara and the others, you put out the fire- Aang recognized you immediately, but Sokka vouched for you, saying that you didn’t ally with the Fire Nation anymore, and that you were trustworthy. And then, once you guide them to the back of the store, where your living quarters were, you and Sokka were alone again.  
“Hey Sokka?” you ask, the boy in question looking at you with his full attention. “Why were you at my shop in the middle of the night?”  
Sokka chuckles sheepishly and looks at you with that sparkle in his eyes. “I may or may not have been craving those eel rolls of yours.” 
You snort, and you look at him with a teasing smile on your face. “You still hungry?” 
It was safe to say neither of you got much sleep that night, up laughing and throwing rice grains at each other.  
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f1girliefics · 2 months
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Imagine a Summer with Lewis Hamilton - Short Piece
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During the winter break, he made a promise that this summer he would take you to a very special place, your pick.
You choose a beautiful country with a warm climate and beautiful beaches.
It would be a very special summer indeed.
All year you would wait for Summer to just finally come, and when it does, Lewis will not disappoint.
He took you to the place you asked, no questions or doubt.
You would drool all over the floor anytime he would have his shirt off, you loved being out in the sun with him.
And let's be fair, Lewis is used to a certain level of life, so if you are into more simple things, not always the luxury, he would enjoy that as well.
He would say you help him feel grounded and humble.
On your last day, he would ask you a simple question, a question which will change your lives forever, "Will you marry me?" sounds so simple yet complicated at the same time.
You would have the obvious answer to make him the happiest man, "Yes."
Best summer ever.
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whereserpentswalk · 6 months
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Imagine being a oracle in the ancient world, given visions of a future you cannot know. Everyone comes to you asking about things that matter to them, wars that will be won or lost, children that will be born. But you're cursed to see further then that. You see things you can't comprehend, a billion possible futures branching out from every momment. You can see the temples of the gods laying empty and barbarians ravaging the known world. You can see man made horrors beyond your comprehension, empires larger then anyone could imagine. You know of artifical intelligence, or nuclear war, of climate change. And you can't even describe any of it to most people. Starships fighting over black skies, humans twisted apart and put back together by machines, and nobody around you can even try to know.
Most people prefer false oracles, that tell them only of things they understand. While you only discuss what you know with a few scholars and philosophers who are terrified to understand the futures you can see.
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daisylark · 2 months
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Hey, this is kinda gonna be a rant so if you're not in the mood for that feel free to delete.
I saw your post -
https://www.tumblr.com/daisylark/741324260680794112/man-takes-a-womans-spot-in-a-womens-shelter-and?source=share
- and it hit me a certain way. Yes, I understand that this man is making it up, it's a fantasy. But I am a woman who has actually experienced living in a homeless shelter with a man, and it got to me.
I was 19 at the time, this was about six years ago. Literally the first thing he said to me when I walked in was that he still had his dick. (He phrased it as being intact and not having had bottom surgery.) I had no idea what he was talking about. at the time I was unfamiliar with trans ideology. Frantically googling to figure out what was happening was how I originally found radfems, bc they were the only people calling this shit out.
I could go on, but the thing that really gets me is that this experience was six or seven years ago, right. I'm in a better, more stable place in life, and have been seeking therapy for several years now. And the worst thing is THAT EXPERIENCE SPECIFICALLY has been a consistent impediment to getting to help.
Because even when I find a therapist, which is harder than you'd think, and do intake, which is exhausting and damaging every time, etc etc etc, so far no one can handle the specific trauma that I have from seeking shelter when I was at my most vulnerable and being gaslit and forced to cohabit with a man by the ppl who should have protected me.
And because my story is such a hot button issue, everyone kind of blue screens when they hear about it. Y'know? It's a little much to believe, in the current political climate, if you're trying to be a good progressive or whatever, that a 6ft pwecious wittle twans woman would act like that in a woman's homeless shelter. He was in his 40s btw. Ppl don't want to engage with it. They want me to be quiet. They've already decided I'm exaggerating.
The last therapist I had I started talking about this experience and the way it damaged my trust in institutions and so on, and the therapist interrupted to be confused, called him "they," and was asking about how he identified. I can be sitting right in front of someone I've known for months and the moment a man is brought up his hypothetical feelings take precedence over me.
So I understand that the reddit post is made up. But I saw it and I had to say, this shit fucking happens. It happens and it's real. The fawning over him doesn't happen quite like that, but in my experience, if a man is admitted to a woman's shelter his needs are already being prioritized and that is unlikely to change. I hate these men - the ones who go to the shelters, the ones who fantasize about it, the ones who support it. I won't forgive anyone who supports it.
Thank you for hearing me out.
Thank you so much for sharing this. I am so sorry that this happened to you. These are exactly the kind of things that we are afraid of. These are the things that people insist never happen, but they do.
These kind of things were the main things that peaked me. That a man's feelings would matter more than a woman's physical safety. It's horrifying.
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daydreaming-nerd · 16 days
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Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 8
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 9
AN: Hey guys I have a feeling no one really liked part 7 so I cut out a couple scenes for this. This chapter might feel like we’re jumping around a lot but I wanted to get you guys to the good stuff that you want in the next couple parts. I do want to take this time to tell you that things are going to get more angsty before they get more fluffy. At least the next two will have ANGST… but please hang in here with me and let me cook I promise you’ll love it in the end. I hope you all stick around. Sending you all love 🥺🖤
Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?
Warnings: Sexism, flashback to under the mountain, ANGST
Word Count: 5,609
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The smell of sulfur and sweat filled my senses. During the day it was always burning hot and at night the temperature dropped significantly. The hour that it took for my body to adjust to the change in climate everyday was always grueling. When my brother and I first arrived he was able to keep me hidden, offering me his coat or an arm to slink under,  but the second Amarantha set eyes on him he was ripped away from me. I hadn’t been allowed to speak to him since.  
For the most part I had kept my head down, desperately trying to blend into the crowd of fae. It was  all I could do to survive, yet the whispers still followed me. 
“The Jewel”
“Rhysand’s sister” 
I knew they were all plotting against me, weighing whether or not my brother would have leave to reprimand anyone who dared hurt me. It was only a matter of time until someone decided to test the waters. 
I stood among the crowd of fae looking up at the dias before us. The King Of Hybern had come to see how his little experiment had been going and Amarantha had made a point of making a show out of it. She had the most noble subjects lined up first, Kallias, Helion and myself included among the ranks. The rest fell into place behind us.
I looked up to the dias where the High Queen sat, my brother standing dutifully by her side. To my knowledge he had not yet given in to her wishes, but by the bags under his eyes and the paleness of his skin I wondered how much more of her torture he could take. 
“As you can see my king, they have bent the knee without much fuss,” Amarantha gestured to those of us kneeling before her. The rocks under my knees cutting my skin. “We have all the High Lord’s but one present with us.” 
“Very good,” the king smiled, making his way down the line to survey every High Lord that Amarantha had lured into her domain. 
I kept my head down, staring only at the ground before me. The sound of his heavy boots crunching against the gravel was my only  indication that he was getting closer to where I was kneeling. The toe of his leather boots came into view before me and then stopped. My heart started to race and my palms became clammy behind my back. A cold hand lifted my chin and my eyes were met with a pair of black soulless ones.
“What about this one?” the king asked, never once taking his eyes off me. By the look on his face I could tell that he ate up every ounce of fear I projected, practically thrived off it.
“That is y/n, sister of Rhysand, High Lord of Night.” Amarantha purred, clearly proud of herself for getting me here. 
“I’d like to have her,” he said, pulling me up roughly by my arm. “It’s time I take a wife so that I might have an heir to this mighty kingdom I’ve built.” 
Fear courses through my veins as I feel tears start to prick my eyes. The king spoke so casually, like he was picking out a new tapestry. If I had eaten any food the last two days I would’ve hurled onto the stone floor below me. This would be my fate, and there was no one coming to save me. 
“She is yours then,” Amarantha said, sipping her wine. “She’s of no use to me. Make an example of her for all I care. Some of her companions have been especially restless these past few evenings.” she uttered, referring to how Helion punched a lesser fae for trying to touch me last night. 
“With pleasure,”the king growled, tossing me onto the ground. 
The stone and rock sliced open my palms, the pain quick and biting. I had barely any time to think before I felt the king kneeling behind me, his hands beginning to lift my dress. 
“NO NO NO!” my screams echoed off the walls falling upon deaf ears. 
I tried to crawl away but I was hauled back by a pair of hands, one wrapping around my neck forcing me up. 
“WAIT!” 
My brother's voice boomed through the room, ricocheting off the walls like glorious night earning gasps from the lesser fae behind us. Thankfully the disruption was enough to stop Hybern in his tracks. 
“If you don’t give my sister to him and you promise me her safety I will go to bed with you willingly,” Rhys pleaded and my heart dropped. 
My eyes flitted up to find my brother, the High Lord of the Night Court, and the most honorable man I ever knew, kneeling. His hands grasped one of Amarantha’s as she looked down at him with a light in her eyes. 
‘No, no, no, no’ was all I could think.
“Without any fuss?”she asked him. 
“Yes,” he agreed. 
“Rhys no!” I called but Hybern’s grip on my throat tightened. 
“For as long as I wish?” she clarified. 
“Yes.” 
“Consider it done,” she purred. 
My eyes flew open, my breath racing so fast I couldn’t keep up with it. A sheen of sweat coated my skin and it took me a moment to recognize where I was. 
Home. 
Cassian’s breaths rose and fell behind me, his arms around me an impenetrable wall to anyone who might try to take me from him. But it was all too much, and I needed to feel the fresh air. The fresh air I didn’t get to feel for 50 years. 
So I wiggled out of his grasp with great difficulty and padded down the hallway to the balcony where he and I normally would take off. 
The second the freezing night air hit my bare skin I felt like I could finally breathe again. My  nightgown did nothing to keep me warm but I was more than happy to feel the breeze. I looked down upon the sparking lights of Velaris and took it all in. There was a time I thought I would never see my home again, yet here I was. But at what cost? 
Images of Rhysand’s health deteriorating under the mountain flashed through my mind. What he had done with Amarantha, so completely unspeakable. The only time I ever saw him perk up was when the Cursebreaker showed up. The one who had saved us all, the one I would later find to be my brother’s mate. I had never met the woman, but I longed to thank her for what she did. 
These past few weeks I had been able to escape the nightmares of my time under the mountain. I supposed Cassian chased those monsters away. But as I stood here now I realized that it didn’t matter how far I ran, I could never be free of that stench of sulfur, and I could never outrun my guilt. 
“You’re going to catch a cold,” Cassian murmured from the doorway. I didn’t turn back to meet his stare, unwilling to show him the tears in my eyes. 
“It’s not that bad,” I laugh subtly wiping away a tear.
His arms wrap around me and I can’t help but lean into his warm chest, as his wings cocoon around me to block out the wind. He’s so warm, how is he always so warm? 
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, words rumbling through his chest. 
“I just had a nightmare that’s all,” I sigh, resting my hands to where his arms are clasped over my chest. “I thought that I was done having dreams about what happened under the mountain but I guess not. The things I saw? What Rhys did for me?” I pause, taking a deep breath. “Sometimes I think I’ll never really escape that place.”
Cassian turns me slowly in his arms and though I know he wants me to look at him, I can’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his bare chest. He holds me even tighter as his wings wrap around me, keeping in the warmth. 
“Never again y/n,” he coos, running a hand over my hair. “For as long as I live you will never have  to go back there again.”
I can’t help as a tear trickles down my eye at his words. My face burying further into his warm chest, the one place I truly never want to leave. Not when I longed for it for so long. I breathed Cassian in deeply, trying to remind myself I was here, I was home. Rhys was at the townhouse, we were both safe. 
“What can I do? How can I help?” Cassian asked me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. 
“Just hold me,” I say with a shaky breath letting my hands wander up and down the bare skin of his back.
I felt his chest rumble through my cheek as he let out a small laugh, “I remember when I would’ve done anything to hear you say those words.” he says wings coming in tighter around me. 
“You can hold me whenever you want general,” I smile, continuing to rub circles on his lower back.
“Almost whenever I want,” he corrects me quietly.
Reality came back to me in an instant. I knew what he meant. The complexities of marriages, and armies and alliances keeping us from being transparent.
But we would get there soon… Together we would get there.  
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The next few days my dream follows me. 
Every night I dream of my brother on his knees before Amarantha, every night I wake in a cold sweat, every night Cassian soothes me until I fall asleep again. 
As I stare at myself in the mirror the bags under my eyes are a reminder that last night the nightmare had found me again. The ladies maids behind me pull my corset tighter, taking away my ability to breathe.
The only saving grace about today is that Eris isn’t here. Apparently he was out on a hunt with his brothers on a hunt and had been gone for three days. I knew it was really a bachelor party, no doubt spent in a seedy brothel, but I didn’t care to correct the autumn court women. How could I when they had the garment so tight I could hardly speak.
Today had been all about fitting me for my wedding dress, one I had yet to see. It was a long process of measuring my arms, legs, and bust. Picking out shades of white that would look best with my  complexion, (the debate between ivory and white lasted an hour and was utterly ridiculous). With Eris gone Cassain had spent the day lounging on a sofa, letting his guard down, that is until the corsets came out.
“Prince Eris says he wants her a size smaller for the wedding, keep pulling!” Ordered the older of the two, her gray hair falling from its updo. Gods they had already taken me in a full size.
My hands braced on either side of the mirror as the women yanked with all their strength one last time. It took everything in me not to scream out in pain once more as the fabric constricted around me again. I swore on my life I heard a rib crack.
“That should do it, measure her,” the older one snapped again. I wasn’t sure who this woman was but I didn’t dare argue with her. 
A tape measure was slipped around my waist for the millionth time as they checked to see if the dress would fit. I watched in the mirror as the young one held up the measurement, my eyes flitting to Cassian’s worried gaze in the back of the room.  
“Perfect, the dress will fit nicely after the alterations on the arms are done,” the older woman reported, putting her tools away. “You are free to go.”
“Can you help me get this off?” I ask trying to reach around trying to find the ribbons but the damned thing is tied so tight I can’t even reach. 
“Absolutely not!” the woman cried like I had asked her to murder her first child. “You will need to leave that on till at least the end of the day to train your waist.” 
I don’t argue, too scared to hear the woman squawk at me again like she just did. Thankfully the younger one, who I assume is her apprentice, helps me put on my old dress. The rusty colored fabric is looser in the middle now but all I can think about is going home. The sooner I’m home the sooner I can take this damned thing off. 
“Ready?” Cassian asks, standing from his spot on the couch. 
“More than you know,” I laugh waddling over to him. 
He leads me out of the palace and neither of us say a word or even dare to brush hands as we walk down the too quiet hallways. Even when this place is empty it feels like it has eyes everywhere. I swear if I looked up right now there would be a dozen people staring down at me. Normally the second that I step outside I feel like I can breathe, but today that’s not the case. I’m thankful that Cassian feels my urgency to get home shooting us both into the sky as soon as possible. 
I knew it was dumb but I never got tired of this part of our day. There was a certain sense of joy in getting to spend these peaceful moments with Cassian. Just him and I, the world soaring by around us with the knowledge that I would be home soon and life could resume as normal. 
The second we touch down on the House of Wind balcony I’m rushing to Cassian’s room, well I supposed it was our room now, considering I hadn’t slept in my own in over a week. I hear Cass close the door behind me as I fumble for the ties on my dress desperately wanting to take a full, deep breath. 
“Here let me help you,”  he pleaded, moving my hands out of his way. 
“Thanks,” I breathed as I felt my dress fall to the ground, the impending freedom starting to make my heart race. Cassian’s hands fumbled with the knot at the base of the corset. 
“They tied it so tight I can’t break the knot apart,” he said, starting to panic a bit as my breathing quickened. 
“Cut it off me Cassian, I can’t breathe,” I rasp trying to pull the top of the corset off my skin a bit to allow my chest to rise and fall normally but it’s useless.  
“Shit baby hold on,” he assures me. I hear him draw a dagger from its sheath on his thigh, carefully dragging the tip down the back. 
With every single snap of the ribbons I feel my lungs expanding again and the second the torturous garment is on the floor I nearly double over, taking my first full breath. 
“Oh my gods,” Cassian curses, his fingertips running down my spine gently, like he might hurt me.
“What? What is it?” I ask looking into the floor length mirror in the corner of the room. In it I can see Cassian looking over my back with furrowed brows. 
“They bruised you,” he said, eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
I turn around so I can see myself in the mirror from afar and sure enough a bruise lines my vertebrae where the corset was. No wonder I felt like I heard bones cracking.
“It’s fine, you’ve experienced worse,” I sigh, picking up a discarded robe on the floor and slipping it over my shoulders. 
“I’d rather fight a battle than wear a corset,” Cassian snickered and honestly I didn’t blame him. 
“At least I’ll never have to wear it again,” I say, tossing the corset aside, taking my anger out on it.
“Does that mean you’ve figured out how you’re gonna handle this?” he asks me tentatively, like he was terrified to either ask or hear my answer.  
I turn to meet his eyes, and for a moment I think about taking the easy way out, telling him something that might give him hope. But we had spent so long lying about our feelings for one another, wasting so much time. I wouldn’t lie about this. 
“I thought I did, but the last two times I brought up calling off the wedding he-”
“If he touches you again I don’t think I-” he trails off, looking to the side as if he’s trying to compose himself. “Last time it felt like my blood was on fire.” 
His admittance nearly brought me to my knees. The anger in his eyes veiled with sadness had me reaching up to cup his face, just needing to feel him. 
“I know Cass and I’m so sorry. I know this is hard for you and gods I’m a fucking monster-” 
“Fuck y/n,” he shakes his head taking my hands in his. “Don’t you dare apologize. You are trying to save your people and help your court. I’m being a selfish prick.” he says, casting his head down in embarrassment.
My blood boils at the thought that he felt selfish in any sort of way. Even more so that I was the reason.
“No, don't say that,” I order him, squeezing his hands to bring his gaze to mine. “You are the most selfless male I’ve ever known. I love you Cass, and I promise I’m going to figure this out. Because I honestly don’t think I can live without you now. You are everything to me, and so much more. I know I can do this,” I assure him, but really I feel like I’m assuring myself more.  
His gaze softens, and a twinge of light flickers in his eyes, one that looks like hope, “I know you can too, My smart, ambitious, caring and beautiful woman,” he praises, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I am beyond honored to call you my princess.” 
“And I’m thankful to call you my general,” I smile, craning my head to read his face. “But mostly I’m just thankful to call you mine.” 
“I’ll be yours until my heart stops beating, and maybe even after that if there’s a place we go when our time in this world is through,” he coos, brushing a hair from my face. 
“Wherever that place is,” I sigh, pressing my head to his chest and pulling him closer to me. “I’ll follow you there too.” 
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The days that followed were generally boring. Cassian would fly up to the Illyrian Mountains with Azriel to further prepare the troops for the impending war.  Apparently Windhaven had become the main stronghold for all the camps, and of course having hundreds of Illyrians in the same camp was more than rowdy. Cass and Az were constantly breaking up fights and coming home worse for wear. One night Cassian had come home caked in mud and blood, which he assured me wasn’t his own.
That night I demanded that he let me get him cleaned up and after hearing a million phrases along the lines of…
“You’re a princess, you shouldn’t be having to clean me up.” 
And 
“I don’t want to get you dirty.” 
I finally convinced the stubborn general to let me take care of him. I took my time rubbing out the knots in his shoulders, his muscles so hard I could barely feel my hands afterwards. The sounds that fell from his lips were enough motivation to keep going though. He even let me wash his wings, something I knew Illyrians didn’t normally tolerate. 
I remembered a day when I was just 10 years old and Rhys was 12. I had instinctively reached out to touch Rhys’ wing and he just about had my head. After that I was terrified to go anywhere near them. I could tell he felt bad about the encounter. One day when I was crying over something our father had yelled at me about he hugged me, and used his wings to cocoon me in.  It was enough to bring a smile to my face and ever since then it had become a silly thing he had done whenever I was upset. Gods we hadn’t had a moment like that in years.  
Nevertheless, my heart soared when Cassian asked me to wash his wings. I took my time to be extra careful. Grazing over sensitive areas when necessary. But appreciating every breathtaking inch of them.  I didn’t miss the way one of his large wings curled over my frame that night while we lay in bed, almost as if it was its own sentient being thanking me. 
“So last family dinner huh?” Azriel said as Cassian and I walked into the living room of the townhouse. 
The words rolling off the Shadowsinger's tongue was enough to make my stomach hurt again.  Rhysand had asked for us all to come together one last time for dinner as a family before I married Eris and moved to the Autumn Court. 
Cassian hadn’t asked for updates surrounding the nuptials that would be taking place in two days time, which I was thankful for, considering I had none to give. I knew that tonight he would ask for answers, I could tell by the quiet demeanor he had all day. But I would cross that bridge when I came to it. 
“Yeah I guess so,” I replied to Az as the three of us made our way to the long dining room table.
I took my usual place at the end of the table next to Azriel, Cassian sat across from me, Mor next to him and then Amren.  Rhys, who always sat at the head of the table, arrived late adjusting the lapels of his jacket.
“Forgive me for being late,” he apologized, taking his seat. “I was just reading the latest reports and well-” he trailed off, not wanting to bring it up. 
“What is it?” Amren demanded, leaving no room for him to avoid the question. 
“Hybern’s forces are growing and there are rumors that the spring court will stand with him,” Rhys admits and my stomach plummets. 
My eyes lift to Cassian’s and find him already looking at me. Worry passes between us. If the spring court has chosen to side with Hybern then we are truly outnumbered, especially if Tarquin refuses to fight. His foot brushes against mine under the table, the only comfort he’s able to offer me at the moment. 
“Why would Tamlin do that?” I ask, breaking the silence. 
“His father was one of Hybern’s biggest allies in the first war. My guess is that he’s trying to follow in his fathers footsteps,” Rhys turns to me. 
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Mor scoffed, sipping her wine. 
The topic of conversation was dropped and dinner continued as usual. The boys swapped fond memories and fought over who was the true winner of last year's snowball fight. All the while I couldn’t shake what my brother had said, if the rumors are true and Tamlin joins Hybern what does that mean for the rest of us? For Cassian, who would no doubt be on the front lines. 
I lift my eyes to see him and just like always I nearly have my breath taken away. He had one arm thrown over the back of his chair, the other holding a glass of wine while he laughed at something my brother had said. Cassian was so handsome when he was like this, at ease, laughing with his family. I had yet to see him in battle, but I knew that seeing him that way would be just as knee wobbling. If he was gone then what? 
I looked at my family around me, the home my brother had built and fought so hard to protect. The warmth that lived here, it was something that couldn’t be put into words. It could all be gone in seconds, and then everything my brother sacrificed under the mountain? It would’ve been for nothing.
“Well I have to get back and finish some paperwork,” Rhys said, tossing his napkin on the table. 
“I have some mission reports to wrap up,” Azriel said, also throwing in the metaphorical towel.
We all stood, our chairs sliding across the wooden floor with a squeak, my eyes found Cassian and I could sense that he wanted to speak to me. 
“And you dear sister need to get some beauty sleep for the big day,” Rhysand said, placing a kiss to the top of my head. 
I embraced him warmly, taking in every part of him. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I saw him, or the last time I saw any of them. But with the wedding and war, everything seemed so much more precious now. 
We all moseyed over to the front door where I said goodbye to Mor and Amren, as they wouldn’t be attending the wedding. I gave the townhouse one last look, taking in the warm fae lights, the plush carpets and the love that the place offered. I hoped it would be a bright light for me to remember when I would no longer be able to visit. The door closed and I swear a part of me was locked behind it. 
“I’ll see you two at home,” Azriel said, he didn’t even give us a chance to say goodbye before shooting off into the sky. 
“Walk with me?” I asked Cassian, cocking an eyebrow at him. 
“Look at that you’re taking me for walks now, what a responsible dog owner,” Cassian smirks referring to the dog comment made nearly a month ago. 
“You’re never going to let me live that down are you?” I laugh bumping into his arm as he holds open the front gate for me.
“Never baby, never,” he laughs
 Velrais was beautiful no matter what time of day or what season it was. But summer nights in Velaris had to be my favorite. While growing up I hardly ever got to leave the house, if I did it was when Rhys would sneak me out on night time flights. Often going into the city for sweets or ice cream. 
Tonight was perfect. The temperature was just warm enough to merit the lilac satin I was wearing, while the breeze coming off the Sidra kept us both cool. It seemed that the whole town thought it was a perfect night. Many people opted to take their dinner and drinks on outdoor patios, a small band had brought their instruments out for children and couples to dance to, and there was a general scene of merriment everywhere. This was home. 
  As we got closer to the river and further from the music the breeze picked up and Cassian’s wing shot out to create a shield for me. My mouth was halfway open poised to say something when a small cry came out from behind me. Cassian whipped around to assess the danger even faster than I could, but as we both turned around all we found was a little girl, about 5 years old, running toward me, doll in hand. 
“Princess! Princess!” she squealed in excitement as she came to a halt at my feet, tugging on my dress. 
“Celia!” shouted a woman running towards us. By the matching black hair and blue eyes I could tell it was her mother. “Get back here this instant!”
“Don’t worry she’s alright,” I smiled towards the mother trying to offer her some reassurance. 
The woman quickly halted in her tracks upon seeing my face and bent at the waist, “Your highness please forgive me,” she said quickly. 
“Please, please, no bowing,” I laughed, placing my hand on her shoulder. 
“You’ll have to forgive this one, she’s much faster than me,” the woman laughed nervously. 
I looked down to see the little girl looking up at me with stars in her blue eyes, I bent over to pick her up using all my strength to do so.
 “Sounds like she’s going to be a little warrior then,” I laugh. “You should meet my friend Cassian, he’s the general.” I say to Celia hiking her up on my hip to see Cass. 
He tucked his wings in tight and wiggled his fingers at the little girl, trying to seem less intimidating. She hesitantly waved back unsure of him and then turned her gaze to me. 
“You’re pretty,” she smiled, one of her tiny hands grazing my nose for emphasis.
“Why thank you. I think you’re very pretty as well Celia,” I smile at her cherub cheeks. “Tell me about your dolly,” I say looking at the porcelain doll in her arms.  
“Her name's Poppy, she’s a princess too,” Celia stated proudly holding the doll up so I could see her more clearly. 
“Well it’s lovely to meet you princess Poppy,” I nodded, shaking the doll's dainty hand. 
“Come on Celia it’s time for bed darling,” her mother laughed.
I placed the girl down on the ground and watched her run to grab onto her mothers legs. 
“Thank you princess,” she nodded to me. “General,” she nodded to Cassian. 
“Of course,” I said, waving goodbye.
As I watched the two walk away hand in hand I couldn’t help but notice the warmth there and the love. At that moment I found myself missing my own mother.  I looked out over the river, the calm black water drifting by as the stars sparkled over Ramiel. The distant sounds of children laughing, adults singing, music playing. 
I couldn’t leave this place to chance. This beautiful home that Rhys had built, the shops and restaurants. The people who lived here peacefully and without worry. 
I wouldn’t let people like Celia and her mother suffer from my selfishness. 
I turned to find Cassian already staring at me expectantly, as is if he was on edge waiting for me to say something. There was a wariness to his stare that told me he knew what came next.  
“Cass we need to talk,” I sigh.
I see his metaphorical hackles raise as he speaks, “No y/n, absolutely not. I won’t lose you.” he declared the heat of the argument already rising. 
“There isn’t a way out Cassian. I won’t put my people at risk like that. Think of the little girls like Celia. I can’t just sit by and watch her go to the slaughter because I didn’t want to marry someone.” I argue, gesturing to the city behind him. “And what about you? Huh? You heard what Rhys said. If Tamlin is involved and we still don’t have Tarquin’s support, then where does that leave you? On the frontlines. If something were to happen to you and I had to live with the thought that I could’ve done something to stop it but didn’t, I couldn’t live with myself.”
Cassian’s fists clenched at his sides, “I would rather live with you for however long I have left then be without you y/n.” he pleaded. 
His words hit like a blow as I felt tears pricking my eyes. This was the end. This beautiful, wonderful thing I had found that made me feel so alive, so loved. It was ending, and it was dying like a star. Burning bright and exploding, taking everything in its path. 
“And what about them?” I gestured to the city in the distance as a cheer sounded from one of the taverns. “If I don’t marry Eris that means I’m okay with their blood on my hands Cassian. What does that make me? A monster.” 
His jaw ticked,  “So I’m just supposed to sit here and watch you marry him? Watch him put his hands all over you? Watch you have his fucking children!” he roared, eyes only softening when I flinched away from him. 
“I’m sorry Cass, but I don’t know what to do anymore. All I know is that I want to save my people, and this is the only way I know how. The safest.” I say calmly. 
Cassian steps back and looks over the water, like he can’t even face me and I don’t blame him. He takes a deep breath, seemingly collecting his thoughts and then he speaks for the last time.
“He is going to kill you from the inside out y/n. You’re going to become just like that dog in his kennels,” he grits, unable to meet my gaze. “And I won’t stick around to watch.” 
He walks past me, wings nearly knocking me over. 
“Cassian please,” I cry trying to reach out for him, but he’s airborne and flying gods know where before my fingers can graze his leathers. 
I stand there watching him disappear into the night sky. Once he’s out of sight I swear I hear a roar so loud it rattles Ramiel. I’m left there on the edge of the river with no one but myself to wipe my tears. And I suppose I deserve that, I should’ve never kissed Cassian that night after the ball, should’ve never gone to bed with him. Should’ve never fallen in love with him. 
Turns out it didn’t matter what I did, I was a monster either way. 
And I sat and thought about that for a long time.
Part 9
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innuendostudios · 9 months
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New Alt-Right Playbook! There's a bunch of bite-sized videos like this in the works as I clear out the remaining points I wanna make before the series wraps. If you like this and wanna see more, back me on Patreon and/or follow me on Nebula.
Transcript below the cut.
Say, for the sake of argument, there’s this guy, this just real abomination, total scum-sucking garbage hole, who’s running for President. And conservative politicians, pundits, and voters have been laughing their asses off about him. “Oh my god, he’s such a disaster, he’ll never get the nomination, and, if he were to get the nomination, no one would ever elect him.” They trot him out as a punchline. But November 8th draws near and he’s still not out of the game, and the Left is banging on the walls, like, hey, that “joke” you’re giving free press to is saying some pretty scary stuff, and the Right is like, “Look, don’t waste your breath. We’ve already accepted that we lost this one, we’re certainly not going to bat for this guy, he’s going to lose.” And then, at the last second, when they do go to bat for him, and he does win, and the Left is like, what the absolute heck my dudes? they go, “Can’t do anything about it now, he’s the President.”
And when, four years later, you finally get his ass out of office, the Left turns to the Right and says, “Okay, now that he’s not President, are you gonna acknowledge all the stuff he did? You know, the stuff he said he was gonna do, and we warned you he was gonna do, and you said we were delusional for thinking he would do, that he did?”
And they’re like, “Oh my gawd, Heather, he’s not even President anymore! How are you still talking about this?”
I call this one The Slow Breakup. It’s like when your partner starts canceling date night, and then starts getting home really late, and then starts sleeping on the couch, and you keep asking, “Hey, is there something wrong?” And they just say, “Oh, sweetie, of course not, work is just running me ragged lately and I when I have time off I’m too tired to go out, and I get home so late these days I don’t want to wake you up by coming to bed.” And then one day you get home and their bags are packed and they’re like, “Look, we both saw this coming.”
(You know that thing. This- this happens to everybody, right?)
It’s always not happening until it’s already happened. The moment is skipped over where they would acknowledge they misled you, take responsibility for what’s happened, or, critically, where you could still do something about it.
Peel your eyes for this one, you’ll see it a lot. This is how conservatives jumped straight from “climate change isn’t happening” to “climate change isn’t man-made” (and now some are trying to jump to “maybe it’s a good thing”). Rhetorically, all these arguments mean the same thing: “We decided long ago what we were going to do. Nothing you say will change our course. This conversation is over.”
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