I know I have a semi-popular post about how Gale would not have made a good teacher and that's why I'm so happy that it does happen canonically. It shows so much growth in him: not only does he learn to love himself regardless of his magic ability, that love extends to others. He can now educate students in the field of magic that has always clearly been his true favourite without being "irked by their ineptitude". He shares the art he loves and his enthusiasm, talent, and newfound patience make him a great teacher. With Tav by his side he becomes a happier, less guarded, more caring person and I can't think of anything better for him.
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In the place where the foundations shiver with the weight of every ghost you’ve laid to rest beneath the floorboards / In the liminal, staticky place where you were first made monstrous (made hollow and whimpering and fickle) / In the place that tore you lengthwise and emptied you onto the front porch, you learn to swallow back the rage, hold it captive and writhing in your gut.
You learn your way around a set of teeth.
You learn the hackles-raised, jagged-mouthedness of a home without a scrap of heat. You learn how to pull each of your canines out by the bloodied pulp, all nerve endings and the blunted edges of grief.
You learn it because what other choice do you have? What’s the alternative, when all you’ve ever known is the dull scrape of your back against the wall, of your heart tearing clear through your chest?
And god, god, god (you pray to an empty sky). God, you’re so bitter and your bones are all galvanized under your skin, and it hurts. It fucking hurts.
And yet you’d sooner turn your own snapping jaws on yourself than risk learning what happens to animals that misbehave.
So you make yourself small, you make yourself antiseptic and supplicating and placid. You domesticate every thrashing need to escape. You walk into a family dinner with darting yellow eyes: Cerberus with three heads, each maw zip-tied shut by your own hand. You show them the soft flesh of your underbelly—you show the whites of your eyes.
You bite back the terror, you choke on the wrath. Because what else is there to do?
(inspired by this post from @actual-changeling. thanks for the gut-wrench, alex </3)
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Not very durable, are y'?
Durable enough.
or: don't talk to Celean about pailing in public or he'll tell you to piss off (including his captain, who belongs to @rusttbuckett )
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'it's only as ugly as you make it' and 'making this difficult' sally jackson hurts for more than just because it's not true to book!sally's character. but because she's saying it to her neurodivergent son who is a child just trying to get by. he's doing his best but he's hurt, and scared, and isolated. he truly is singular and she's only driving a distance between them. it hurts because so many neurodivergent kids have heard this from their parents. so many neurodivergent kids who are just trying to survive in a world not made for them. so many neurodivergent kids who are called 'troubled' or 'difficult' for not being able to run the same marathon as other kids. so many neurodivergent kids who are expected to run as fast as everyone else except the neurodivergent kids have a weight tied to their ankle ten times their weight while all the others don't and yet somehow they keep pace because they have to. because otherwise they're not a good kid. it hurts because sally jackson successfully ostracizes her son, and yes she's just trying to get him into school, but school is hell for neurodivergent kids and instead of helping him through it she's blaming him for being a kid and finding it hard.
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Translation:
The Stone that my grandmother
And grandfather used to talk about
Has returned as it left
My brave Stone
And I don't care whether it's in Kerrera,
Challendar or Calvay
As long as it's in
Steep, rugged Scotland
To be put in a place of refuge
Which will conceal it safely
So that they can't, they won't manage to
Remove a single fragment of it
The Stone that was lost to us
Let us swear by our hand
Each and every one of us
That we will allow nothing to endanger
The man who unloosed it
And dared to rescue it
From an unpleasant place
If they lay hands on him
We'll need to be strong
And strike a blow for him
Using steel
The Minister was so sorrowful
When he woke that morning
His eyes bleary
As he turned out
Walking the floor
Sighing and praying
And looking at the nook
When he'd found the Stone missing
There was much pacing
And running 'round the floor
And all he could say was
"Where did the Stone go?"
And, "By the Holy Mother
What will I do tomorrow
I know the Queen
Will be beside herself"
Said he, looking deathly pale
"I'd never have believed
It could have been raised from the floor
By someone no bigger than a wasp
Something is to happen to me
And Heaven help me
The man who unloosed it
Must be as strong as a horse".
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