@wherethevoidends / wherethevoidends.tumblr.com
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All of my side blogs 😊
i think when it comes to knowledge gaps (especially on tumblr) its easy to get insecure about not knowing everything. but the real secret is that you can get away with not knowing everything if you just dont insert yourself into conversations you dont understand with blind confidence. the internet also gives you the privilege of 1) googling/wikipediaing shit before you say it, and 2) not volunteering how little you know. you dont actually have to enter the conversation just to say how little you know. part of the stereotype of dipshit stupid american on here is that americans will say full chestedly that they dont know which continent tchad is in and then go out of their way to justify it with their lack of education. when no one asked them to say either thing. and even if someone did ask, you are never under any obligation to actually answer.
Eartha Kitt shows off her strength and athletism by doing yoga at the beach, 1960s.
hello fellow non-Black tumblr users. welcome to my saw trap. if you'd like to leave, please name one (1) Black woman author who is not Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, bell hooks, Octavia Butler, or N.K. Jemisin. bonus points if she's published a book in the last five years.
For my own future reference, and for anyone else who wants it, a list of authors mentioned in the notes. (I cannot promise this is comprehensive, there are a lot of reblogs and I might have missed some.) I've included a link for each author, where possible I've tried to find one that leads you to their books, prioritising own websites/publishers, falling back on wikipedia otherwise.
If you find any mistakes in the links let me know and I'll edit. This post will be in two parts, because I literally broke tumblr with how many authors there were. I think it's about a hundred and fifty.
And here's part two:
Hell yeah!!!
I refuse to let this be lost in the tags
Despite being a familiar, Monty is in fact just a bird. He's smarter, has a longer memory, and doesn't break under the reality of having been human, in love, died, and then become a bird again.
He remembers everything about being human, but the feelings are muted, he still likes Edwin, but only in the capacity of how a bird can like a human.
He still slightly resents Charles, but that's also been shifted into the way he would feel about another bird, a romantic rival winning the mating game. He wouldn't share his food with him, but he wouldn't peck his eyes out either.
Still, he knows he betrayed them, and moving one bag to enable their escape doesn't mean much. Especially not when Edwin got tortured, and Niko died. So he's not surprised when they leave him in the house with no way out. In fact, he'd argue that he deserves it.
A slow end of starvation, or dehydration, whichever comes first, seems fitting.
But then, a day and a half later, not even long enough for him to begin to feel thirst after he drank all his water, Charles phases through the front door and finds him where he's perched in the kitchen, carefully avoiding looking into the room where Esther's device, and the bloodstain on the floor still remains.
He doesn't say anything at first, and Monty begins to think that he, a bird, is hallucinating when the one corner of Charles mouth quirks slightly. Not a smile or a frown, just the smallest movement as if he's considering.
"You know, I think we all just kind of forgot you existed when everything went down."
It would hurt if Monty didn't actually think they left him on purpose. Being forgotten is somehow less bad in his mind, you don't circle back for lost flock when a predator strikes until after the danger is over, and you've counted how many are left, after all.
"Still, I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, you did help me out in the end, even if you are on the shitlist for lying and getting Edwin hurt in the first place." 'And Niko' but Charles doesn't seem like he's able to say her name. It's too soon.
Monty just caws softly at him. 'Sorry' doesn't really cover it, but the sentiment still remains.
"Ah well, I'm here to just you know, open a window or something. Can't have you dying in here as well. Not if I can help it anyway."
It's sweet, and Monty considers him as he walks through the kitchen to force the window open, Charles is.. sweet.
If Monty were to lose to a romantic rival such as Charles as a bird or a human, he thinks maybe it's not so bad. At least he knows that Charles mate will be provided for and taken care of, as well as the rest of the flock.
He caws at him again to tell him so, momentarily forgetting that the language barrier is quite big between human and bird.
Then again, Esther always understood him, but maybe that's the witch-familiar bond in place. At least he thinks so until Charles turns around, with a wide smile on his face.
"Cheers! I'll take good care of Edwin, don't worry."
'Oh! Good. Well then, good bye Charles, I have other birds to harass. And maybe a cat or two.'
Charles' laughter follows him as he takes flight out the window, and the 'Everyone likes me eventually' echoes somewhere in the back of his mind.
Seems he was right about that.
The boys taking advantage of their incorporeality to literally share the same space, anyone? Hugging so tightly it’s like they want to merge bodies and then they do.
The sofa doesn’t have room for both of them to lie down (doesn’t really have room for one of them, to be honest) but they just both lie down mostly overlapping, their bodies inside each other in a way no living humans can achieve, their unbeating hearts nestled against each other
Joining space with most of their bodies while their arms are flung about separately so that Edwin can hold a spellbook while Charles holds a magnifying glass and an enchanted candle over it and they can look at the book with their eyes at the exact same angle (the first time Crystal comes in and sees them merged into a “four-armed monster” she screams)
They did it a lot at first because it’s the only way they can feel warmth in any real sense; it’s not quite the same warmth as the living sense of temperature, as human thermoception, but sharing space with the thrumming spectral energy of another ghost is as close as they can get, and it helps, they learn after months of Charles shivering against cold that only he can feel, that isn’t real thermoception, either. They spent quite a lot of winter nights, the first few years, curled up inside each other, curled up against each others’ souls like a cat against warm laundry.
Elphaba Thropp from The Wizard of Oz series is canonically intersex in the novel Wicked (1995)! Her exact variation and traits aren't specified, but it can be inferred she has ambiguous genitalia, and may have experienced IGM.
hope this explains it
it does and I hate it, thank you
important update
