#299 words

[fantasy-fallacy-tumblingstone]

Mini-Write (Restart) Day 3

Sorry I didn’t write anything yesterday.  My parents arrived and, well, it was Thanksgiving!  Working on what might become a one-shot, so here’s the start of it.  Hope you enjoy!

“I still don’t understand the point of it.”  Robert shook his head and picked up a can of yams.

Cora chuckled. “If you don’t understand by now, you aren’t going to.  Just join in.”

He turned to her and took her left hand in his.  Kissing the back of it and admiring her rings, he said, “I’ll do anything for my bride.”

At that moment, Martha burst into the kitchen of their New York apartment.  “Alright, you two, break it up.”  She laughed.  “I know it’s only been a month since you married, but keep it to the bedroom.”

“Mother…” Cora groaned, but grinned at her husband.  “What else can we do to get ready for tomorrow?”

As Martha started bustling around the kitchen, she rattled off a list.  “Well, we’ve already confirmed with the caterer for the turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes.  We’ve got the – “ here she began ticking things off on her fingers while surveying the groceries on the counter and island – “yams, marshmallows, green beans….” She kept going until suddenly her eyes widened.  “Rolls, Cora, we don’t have rolls!”

Cora waved a hand at her.  “Robert and I will get the rolls.  That’s why I asked.”

“I think that’s all for the food.”  Martha tilted her head to the side, thinking.  “Oh, your father said that he needed another string of lights.  One of them was out at the end of the season last year.”

“Lights. Got it.  If you think of anything else while we’re out, text me.”  Cora grabbed Robert’s hand and made for the living room.

“Thank you!” her mother called after them.

Robert and Cora spent a pleasant afternoon rambling around the neighborhood, picking up the items Martha had specified (and a few others she did think of after they’d left).

Later, after a nice, low key dinner, everyone went to bed early to be up bright and early for Thanksgiving Day.

[abirdegg]

Artist: Meera Lee Patel

Over my last cycle, I have continued to study up on incarceration and arrest rates like in my last post. But I believe that this post is especially important, due to the fact that it is November 3rd--election day. This is one of the most covered and important U.S. elections in the history of our country. The results of this election will send a message, specifically to communities of people of color. With the border crisis that continues to intensify and cause more heartache by the day, and the recent civil rights movement that has swept the country, the president we elect will determine whether we have a chance to change. 

This may not seem very related to the topic of my research at first, but the truth of the matter is that the systematic oppression and destruction of Black voices has everything to do with this election. The president has proven time and time again that he does not support Black people and the Black Lives Matter Movement. He has shown that he would rather let white supremacy “stand down and stand by”, rather than denounce it completely. I have my issues with both candidates, but in my opinion performative support of the community is better than a blatant endorsement of white supremacy. 

For my next cycle, I want to challenge myself to figure out a way to create a piece of artwork that captures all of the emotions I have been feeling as a black person, specifically a black woman, in America. I want to showcase how the trauma of systematic oppression is cyclical--it gets passed down from generation to generation. I want to try and convey how this feels and make people understand, if even a little, how badly we need change. 

[motherbookerao3]

The Ring

Read on ao3

The little box was tucked away in the back of the potions cabinet, behind a dusty vial of out of date Pepper-up potion Draco must have forgotten to throw away. It wasn’t surprising that Draco had chosen to hide it there - Harry wouldn’t touch potions with a ten-foot broomstick under normal circumstances. He never would have found it if he hadn’t burnt his finger while he was baking and come searching for the healing salve.

He stared at the box with a mixture of shock and joy before reaching into the cupboard and taking it into his hands, idly stroking the soft velvet exterior of the little box with his thumb. He battled with his emotions for several moments, torn between wanting to be surprised and a strong desire to know exactly what to expect - nosiness, Draco would say with a fond grin - before natural curiosity won out. He could always act surprised when Draco finally popped the question, he supposed.

With shaking fingers and a face-splitting grin, he opened the box and eagerly peered inside.

The ring was nestled in the soft, black velvet cushions within the box, the platinum band shining in the early morning sunlight. He took a moment to appreciate the intricate detail carved into the platinum around the emerald that mimicked the shape of leaves and  flowers, as well as the small engraving inside the ring that simply said Draco & Harry.

'Beautiful' barely began to describe it in his eyes.

Harry closed the lid and returned the box to the back of the shelf, carefully positioning the vial in front of it. He didn’t need to spend hours examining every single inch of it.

After all, he’d have the rest of his life to admire the ring on his finger.

[asheespiquantpeculiarities]

Kinktober # 19 - Formal Wear

„What… is happening?” Matia looked at me with big eyes, eyeing every inch of me. It was… slightly embarrassing.

Being in one’s original form does that to you.

And she simply stood and stared.

I rippled slightly.

“This looks very strange” She blinked and started to walk around me.

“Well… thank you” I said in a flat voice.

She poked my form, And my colours changed slightly, without much of my input. It had been a long time since I’d donned this form.

“Awww… it’s also very pretty! All rainbow colours! What… species is this?”

“This is me in… formal wear” That was actually the best approximation.

“So this is… you you?” She refrained from poking me again. I was thankful.

“Well… yes” It was.

“You look less blobby than I did” That is… one way to put it.

“… you are very young… and I did arrange for a more formal appearance…” In all actuality, I was a rainbow coloured spire with a continuously shifting ring around me.

The ring was uncomfortable, but showed age and control over oneself… it did not get easier when poked, really. Or heLD!

“AH!” My whole form shifted a few meters away.

She looked her packbonder-concerned: “Oh. I… didn’t mean to hurt you, I ju-“

“It’s fine. Really. I only have to… contact my home planet. Finally” I huffed.

“… oh!” She blinked. Staring a little into the distance.

“It’s mostly dead, but our data servers are there. Have to contact them to get the information I failed to get twice now”

A complicated emotion passed on her features. Looked somewhat strange. But then she said: “Alright then! It’s cool to see the real wriggle without all the shapeshifting for once!“

…

I guessed I’d place this one as a solid ‘maybe’.

[asheewrites]

Silly Roommate-stories

So. College was about as nice as I thought it would be.

Math posed an actual challenged, the different programming languages were mostly frustrating, but some were actually good enough to use them regularly.

And, of course, the evenings. With all their wonderful little opportunities for a bit of weed and a bit of planting advice – giving and taking.

I took care never to drink too much, found myself ladies and gentlemen to entertain me and simply had a good time.

Student’s discounts made everything cheaper and the supermarket provided enough food to satisfy any and all kind of munchies.

And then, there was my roommate.

During my first year, I had been spared this destiny. Sure I had started out with one, but they dropped out. The second had too much fun with the night life, the third couldn’t take my weed-smelling ass and the fourth was not fond of my honesty. Maybe the fact that it’s an attic-student home didn’t help, either. Six floor up.

But this morning, one day before the semester started, a beanpole walked in.  A very pale bean.

He looked around, spotted me and lifted his hand to say: “Hello, my name is Raphael Israfil, I’m your new roommate”

“Damn, weird look and weird name,” I leaned forward and grinned.

He tilted his head: “Correct. ‘Ruthven’ is unusual as well”

So he had looked that up, at least. I shrugged and said: “Awww, you afraid I’ll bite you in the night?”

“No,” he said and turned to walk into the second bedroom, apparently getting rid of his bag.

That’s all there was.

Well, I thought, another weirdo.

After about then minutes he came out again, sat down with a notebook and said: “We need a housework schedule”

And I laughed. What a start.