By the time they'd finished their tea, they were almost in love with each other— but not quite yet because true love takes time and memories, but as close to love as first impressions could take them. The days had not yet come when Ramy wore Victoire's sloppily knitted scarves with pride, when Robin learned exactly how long Ramy liked his tea steeped so he could have it ready when he inevitably came to the Buttery late from his Arabic tutorial, or when they all knew Letty to class with a paper bag full of lemon biscuits because it was a Wednesday morning and Taylor's bakery put out lemon biscuits on Wednesdays. But that afternoon they could see with certainty the kind of friends they would be, and loving that vision was close enough.
Later, when everything went sideways and the world broke in half, Robin would think back to this day, to this hour at this table, and wonder why they had been so quick, so carelessly eager to trust one another. Why had they refused to see the myriad ways they could hurt each other? Why had they not paused to interrogate their differences in birth, in raising, that meant they were not and could never be on the same side?
Also, time to read my old Clive Barker books. He's still the MVFuckingP.
My introduction to Barker's stories was The Thief Of Always. It's been thirty years and those characters still live in my head rent-free.
Wanna talk about queer authors writing amazing paranormal philosophical treats that question the universe and give you enough horror to come back for a taste even if you don't like horror?
I too have "seen writings by radical feminists claiming that male toddlers are a risk to full grown women, and that mothers should hold no responsibility for their male children. That male children of any age are violent and dangerous to little girls, that the mere presence of male children in a classroom makes it an unsafe learning environment for female children." Which makes their worship of a certain transphobic author of children's fantasy especially hilarious. For all her faults, She Who Must Not Be Named depicted a school where both the students and faculty had a mix of both men and women, and this was never a problem (except maybe the bit where girls could enter the boys' dorms but not vice versa). She also depicted maternal love, including toward boys, as one of the greatest forces in the world. By now I've been mostly soured on That Series Over There, but that's yet another reason I find it weird that radfems idolize her.
Yeah, though looking back, the series had a surprising amount of subtle sexism and transphobia in it, including the part about boys not being able to get into the girls' dorms.
Evil women are common described as having "mannish" features. The evil aunt has a mustache and belches and speaks gruffly and overall behaves in a very "unfeminine" manner in order to show how unlikeable she is. Everyone's favorite reporter is described as having "large hands" and too much make up and "transforms" to "spy on children" and "sneak around where she's not wanted".
Sometimes I wonder where the random ass Sam content comes from bc I won’t be able to find it on any of their socials. But I’ll go back to the original sighting and see that it’s been heavily cropped and there’s no source tagged and I have myself a good laugh bc GODDAMN she really dug herself in a hole.
I made it this long without what's her face popping up on my TikTok FYP but sadly that changed today. I don't want to see her face! Why must she be there?!?
Oh, shit, I'm seeing cable commercials for the Hogwarts Legacy game. They only very briefly show you anything, saying you'll have an epic adventure, and I have never seen a TV ad try so hard conceal its product.