I’ll edit and reblog this with updates as I post new bits of the Cinderella story I’m working on, but for now, here are all the current chapters out:
Part One (In Which Things Would Be Simpler If The Prince Was A Horny Piece of Shit)
Part Two (In Which No Rats Were Harmed In The Making Of These Horses)
Part Three(The OG post which technically is kind of told out of order because there’s a reblog and like, look, I could see this was becoming a thing, but I didn’t think it would be a thing-thing but now it’s a thing-thing and I have to deal with it. I mean I’m writing a masterpost for cryin’ out loud)
Part Four(In Which Cindy and the Fairy Godmother Run from the Cops)
Part Five(In Which The Prince Begins His Investigation While The Narrator yells About Foot Fetishes Because look I’m sick of that joke I’m SO FUCKING SICK of that joke it’s so fucking unoriginal.)
Gather ‘round kids: I had a coworker mention to me this morning that it’s impossible to get grease stains out of fabric. As a former chemistry minor who worked two years under the table doing housekeeping and who generally tends to be a fucking disaster, I am here to tell everyone that it absolutely is not impossible, in case this is a widespread belief. Here are a few of my favorite cleaning stain removers that I always have at home.
Here are some options:
A Tide™ pen.
I’m a generic kinda lady. I hate promoting brands 99% of the time. BUT if you catch absolutely any kind of stain before it gets ground in, you can get most of it out with one of these babies. I’ve tested it on blood, chocolate, coffee, guacamole, pizza sauce, red wine on, on that one time i accidentally slopped some oil I was supposed to be using on antiques onto a fancy rug (also an antique but not the one I was gunning for). If you’re washing something delicate, pump it onto your finger a couple of times and gently rub it in. I’m not sure what they put in these things but I’m pretty sure it’s an arcane secret.
Dish soap
Granted, this is a little trickier for upholstery/carpet, but it can still be done using a rag, some water, and some patience. But for clothing, just pour some soap on the stain and rub it in under cold running water.
Absolutely any clear alcohol is your new best friend
You know the old “white wine to clean red” trick? Well, this is its updated sister I like to call “you, too, can use coconut rum to get red jello shot out of your nice white dress”. It’s a nice party trick. Straight vodka works even better. For every day situations involving any kind of alcohol-related spills (including markers)–and especially work situations–rubbing alcohol is ideal. To quote another adage, this one from every chemistry teacher you will ever meet, “like dissolves like.”
Hydrogen Peroxide
It can get blood out of absolutely anything, including your mattress. It reacts with the iron in hemoglobin, which breaks down the molecule, causing it to lose its red color. So make sure you’re not using a cast iron skillet to wash your period underwear in.
Vinegar
This will dissolve lime buildup overnight. Fill a bag, tie it around your showerhead, and presto. You can also use it to scrub the area around your sink and to break up any buildup in pipes. (Limeaway™ is for rich people.)
Baking soda
This is great if you have a pet or child who peed on the carpet. Just cover the area, wait until it dries, and vacuum it up. The longer you leave it, the better it will do at removing the smell. It’s also good removing mild odors from a small space, like a fridge or a laundry hamper.
Charcoal
This is your heavy duty odor killer. A little goes a long way. In chemistry, activated charcoal is used as a purifier in reactions, and in medicine, it can be used to treat mild poisoning/overdoses. In your car that smells like someone died because you forgot you had potatoes in the trunk for six months? All you need are regular old charcoal briquettes. Stick a couple handfuls in a flat box and the smell will be gone overnight. Guaranteed. For larger areas, just use more charcoal.
Baking soda is also good for stuff stuck on pots pans and your stove top. Add a little bit of water and elbow grease and it’s like magic
Baby shampoo will get oil stains out of clothing even if it’s been washed and dried several times. Shampoo is formulated to remove oil from organic stuff.
Fabric cleaning tips. good to know for sewers.
Helpful!!!
Thank you guys so much! I have so many shirts i can’t wear anymore bc im a messy one
Ok, so, as most know hobbits LOVE mushrooms, but what if they love ALL mushrooms, even the poisonous ones. What if a hobbit’s body is able to handle more of the poison and it doesn’t affect them at all. And they love it!
And then they nearly give Aragorn a heart-attack when they’re heading to Rivendell.
Pippin, just being pippin: Look, MUSHROoms!!
The other three, running at full speed: MUSHROOMS!
Aragorn, who is a skilled ranger who knows every plant, tree, and flower to survive: No those are poisonous!
Frodo, who’s mouth is stuffed full: No they’re not. We eat these all the time back in the shire.
Merry, speaking with his mouth full, spitting mushroom everywhere: Yeah, they’re definitely not poisonous. Do you want one?
Aragorn, now having an existential crisis: No, n-no. I’m good.
Sam, mumbling under his breath: Well I wasn’t gonna share anyways.
@penny-anna this seems like your kind of hobbit lore
… OKAY NO WAIT THIS IS IMPORTANT
What if that’s the reason Sam and Frodo survived in Mordor?
What if all those references to noxious fumes and tainted water and everything were completely literal? They avoided eating anything made there, but they had to keep drinking and breathing.
What if part of Mordor’s defenses was that it’s literally poisonous to any creature not specifically bred to live in those conditions? What if Faramir was so careful about warning them about drinking the water because he knew it was fatal? What if Sauron’s general lack of concern about shit going down inside his own borders (aside from treachery, which apparently happened a lot) was knowing that any Mortal Man or Elf or Whatever that wandered in was gonna be stone dead in a few days, and his desire to catch any infiltrators on the borders was to keep them alive long enough for questioning?
And then these two hobbits who have spent their entire lives merrily ingesting enough poisonous fungi for breakfast to give Shelob a stomach-ache trot into Mordor and drink the poisonous waters and breath the poisonous fumes and scratch themselves on the poisonous thorns and feel mildly unwell.
Years later Sam gets a pained note from Faramir asking him how the hell he and Frodo survived when all the water is tainted with arsenic according to the survivors of the exploratory party and Sam writes back confused ‘What’s arsenic, it tasted bad and a bit metallic, that’s all I know honestly’ and Faramir goes to rant at Aragorn about how bizarre this is and is really confused when Aragorn goes into full-on flashbacks of watching those four tiny dumbasses STUFFING DEATH CAPS INTO THEIR MOUTHS LIKE GODDAMN CANDY.
Oooooo, I like that!! And it would make sense after Boromir went on and on about how impossible it was to be able to breathe in Mordor.
Death caps are actually really interesting because they kill you (if you don’t receive proper treatment quickly enough) by destroying your cells over the course of a couple days by, basically, blocking your cells’ ability to create proteins. To my understanding the reason death cap mushrooms don’t poison themselves is because their RNA polymerase is structured differently. So it could just be a simple case of “hobbits are inherently immune to some things that will easily kill a human or an elf”—kind of in a similar way to how there are lots of things that humans can safely eat that we have to keep away from our dogs and cats because that food is deadly to them but not us.
So my first interpretation of the original post was that hobbits can eat deeply toxic mushrooms not because they’ve ~built up an immunity~ Princess Bride style, but because they’re so genetically different from humans that it’s like, “no no no, this mushroom isn’t toxic, it’s just toxic to YOU guys,” the same way we don’t consider grapes or chocolate to be toxic even though those foods are very dangerous to dogs.
Maybe like an evolutionary adaptation to their enormous food requirements: Mammals differ in their ability to detoxify poisons in part based on their dietary evolution. Cats for instance, as hypercarnivores, absolutely suck at detoxifying poisons - their all meat diet means they’ve lost a lot of the metabolic pathways in the liver that other mammals like us and dogs use to neutralise toxic compounds. This is why it’s so easy to accidentally poison cats, this is why you can’t use spot on dog flea stuff on cats; the dog version is about 10x stronger as a dog’s liver starts immediately breaking down the compound so the dose must be higher to be effective, while a cat can’t glycosylate the medication and so it just kinda stays in them unchanged till they excrete it.
Plants are full of poisons to prevent things eating them, yes that includes lots of the ones we consider safe. Humans, as extreme omnivores adapted to way more plants in their diet than dogs, can eat all sorts of things that will kill a dog because we’ve got a load more metabolic pathways that degrade or modify toxic compounds we eat. Many herbivores, especially ruminants that have extra microscopic helpers to detoxify stuff, can eat things that will murder a human stone dead: deer will eat yew trees ffs. Rabbits eat death caps with no ill effect.
With how much hobbits eat (probably need a lot of energy to fuel their enormous, overworked livers), there’s got to be a lot of selection pressure for not being choosy, and even for being able to handle accumulation of other things like heavy metals just due to the sheer quantity of stuff they consume. Mordor was a polluted land, heavy with toxins usually present only in minuscule quantities in the air and soil, but hobbits eat their bodyweight in potatoes alone every week and are used to high doses of environmental pollutants and just kinda shrug it off as their liver slaps a few methyl groups on things and fires them off to the kidneys for removal.
Consider this though: Their weird biology makes them stupidly susceptible to something other races are fine with. Like how Sydney funnel-web venom is mildly irritating to most mammals like cats and dogs, but, due to some quirk in primate sodium channels, can kill humans. Everyone gets used to the hobbits just munching away on assorted deadly poisons, maybe flavoured with a little lead, casually drinking hemlock tea and seeing Sam and Merry absolutely lose their shit at someone getting a nettle sting or eating broad beans because “those things will kill you!!!!”.
I mean…this seems completely feasible, if you consider lembas bread, a bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man, Merry ate FOUR whole breads and barely burped, Sam and Frodo ate about a quarter piece of the bread a day plus whatever food they could get their hands on in the wild.
Lup didn’t dance well, in the most pedantic sense of the word. From the little that Barry knew of the twins’ upbringing, they had neither the means nor the motivation to procure any sort of formal dance training. Nevertheless, Taako still had a natural grace about him that made his every movement seem natural and elegant, and so his dancing could probably have passed off well at the Neverwinter galas that Barry’s parents had taken him to once or twice when he was a boy. Lup’s dancing was rougher, more vulnerable, but what she lacked in technique she more than made up for in passion.
Lup danced like she talked, and laughed, and cast spells. She was vibrant- big and animated and loud, not in the sense that she was making noise but that she drew attention like she had the gravitational pull of the sun. Her dancing did not belong in a ballroom. It was for twirling around bonfires late at night, or leaping onto the table of a tavern amidst the off-key ecstasy of drunken singing.
She laughed as she spun, faster and faster as the music picked up. Some sort of elven drinking song, Barry thought. He didn’t know the words, but that didn’t matter. Her energy was infectious. Barry doubted that anyone who saw her would be able to resist at the very least tapping their foot along with the beat, if not fully leaping up to join her.
He must have been staring without realizing, because Lup caught his eye and danced over to where he was seated, extending her hand. He paused, face growing red both at her attention and the prospect of dancing like this in front of the rest of the crew. But she smiled at him with a radiance that could overcome the worst of his insecurities, and so he allowed her to lead him closer to the fire, and soon he too was spinning and laughing and wondering how he had ever lived a life so dull that it didn’t have Lup in it.
when im listening to my own library and playlists i feel like a powerful wizard but when im trying to show my music taste to anyone it feels like i have a shame cone on
The only difference between a wizard hat and a dunce cap is the wide brim of privacy
When you’re young, you’re told what love is. You’re shown what it is. You see it’s devotion and work and fleeting and earned. It’s romantic and for one person until death do you both part, even if one of you parts early.
When you’re bad with your words, love seems hard.
When you’re young and alone and scared, love seems unattainable.
When you’re old and alone and scared, love seems like something for someone else.
When you’re older though, you learn that love can be a lot more than that.
Love can be teaching someone how to make your hot cocoa (because someone who loved you taught you how).
Love can be sending someone to bed after being up writing for too many days.
Love doesn’t have to be “I know you miss home; I miss it too. I hate we’ll never get it back.” Instead, it can be “Come help me make this bread.”
Love can’t always be “I’m scared of letting any of you get hurt, I want to be strong enough for all of us.” Sometimes love is “Wanna see me fight a bear?”
Love doesn’t have to be “You’re doing your best. Nobody expects you to know how to deal with this. We’re learning together.” Sometimes love is “Will you teach me how to play that card game?”
Love is sometimes “You’re just as much a part of this team as anyone else, don’t discount that.” Sometimes it’s also “Let’s have a girl’s night.”
Love doesn’t have to be “I think you’re the only person I am ever going to feel this way about. My life felt so dull. So emptywithout you and I know it’s the apocalypse every goddamn day but I’m glad I get to do it with you.” Love can be holding hands and not letting go and not letting go and not letting go.
Love can be “Will you teach me how to swim?”
Love can be fighting for your life because it’s not just your life you’re fighting for.
Love can be the shittiest gifts you’ve ever seen.
Love can be dying again and again and again just to give everyone a chance at life.
Love can be sacrifice. A ritual. The best day ever.
Love can also be betrayal. A solution. “Please just lie down. I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.”
Love is standing face to face with gods and monsters and a living hunger with everyone you’ve ever loved.
Love can be a family you found and lost and rebuilt at the end of the world.
Magnus was intently working on a bookshelf. It was made of a beautiful, dark mahogany and, upon the request of the customer, was going to have dozens of birds carved into the sides and edges. He began sanding the shelves with a fine grit sandpaper. For a while, the only sound in the Hammer and Tongs was the soft, repetitive noise of wood being worn down.
The calm monotony was broken when the front door creaked open. Magnus looked up and grinned at the entrant; Julia Waxman, loaded down with bags from various merchants in town, had returned, the last dregs of the late afternoon sun trailing in after her. The sharp bite in the air let everyone know winter was just around the corner.
Magnus quickly stood up to relieve Julia of her burden She smiled and handed him half the bags in her arms. As the pair got to work unloading the bags, Magnus frowned. Everything Julia had brought home was either small, poor quality, or about to turn.
“This is what everyone had. Season’s been tough for farming and everyone’s raising prices to keep up with Kalen’s tariffs,” Julia said before Magnus could comment. She inspected the hard loaf of bread she’d been able to grab.
Magnus shook his head. For nearly a year, Governor Kalen and his cronies had been enacting increasingly harsh laws, oppressive curfews, and predatory taxes; the citizens of Raven’s Roost all felt the firm pressure of Kalen’s fine leather boots on the neck of their economy and of their freedom.
“How is everyone doing?”
Julia shrugged. “They’re all doing as well as they can. The Silverstrings are worried because their wheat harvest was half as fruitful this year as it was last year and a good portion of what grew was seized by Kalen.”
“Lucatiel?”
“His wool has largely been commandeered by Kalen. He hopes to be able to shear another large batch before winter hits in earnest but he’s uncertain.”
“And Therala?”
“Her herd’s dwindling. Most of the calves from this past spring either died or –“
“Were taken by Kalen and his pals. Right. Jules, how does he keep getting away with this?”
Julia laughed sharply and started putting some of the dry goods in the storage closet in the back of the shop. “Magnus, that’s just how things have always been here. For a while, anyway.”
“But how’d he even get into power in the first place?” There was nothing but pure astonishment in his voice. In the five years he’d lived in Raven’s Roost, he’d never quite been able to comprehend how someone so ruthless could have gotten the trust of the town; his friends and neighbors were good, honest folks and good judges of character. It made no sense to Magnus.
She puffed out her cheeks and thought for a moment. “He helped form Raven’s Roost into a proper town. We used to be vulnerable to bandits and those who sought to cause pain. He was stern but that kept us in shape. He used to be better. Genuinely. Not good, not at all, but not like this. His policies were never quite this harsh. I suppose he’s gotten greedy.”
“It’s senseless for him to dig this deep this quickly. If it continues like this, I don’t know that the town is going to last much longer.”
Julia said nothing. She knew Magnus was right but what was to be done about it? The two continued to unpack and put away items in silence.
“Papa won’t talk to me about how business is going here. Said he doesn’t want me to worry about things. How are we doing?” Julia looked at Magnus seriously.
He hesitated. Steven had specifically asked him to not discuss the business with Julia but when he saw her in front of him, firm hands anxiously picking at a sliver on the table, he found it hard to deny her.
“We’ve done better. I’m sure you’re aware the craftsmen corridor has been hit pretty hard by all the tariffs. Not only can we hardly afford to replace the tools and materials we need but the rest of the town can’t exactly afford our wares. We get the occasional customers,” he gestured to the bookshelf he’d been working on. “But we’re not doing great.”
Julia nodded and looked down. “That’s not exactly reassuring. But thanks for telling me.”
“Of course. Just don’t tell your dad I said anything,” he said sheepishly.
“Deal,” she said, glancing back at him with a smile.
-
Magnus sat on a bench outside the Hammer and Tongs and stared up at the moons. His teeth were chattering quietly but he wasn’t quite ready to turn in for the night. Isaiah Erksine, Kalen’s right-hand man, had distributed yet another list of tariffs and regulations to all the shops in Raven’s Roost earlier in the day. They were unconscionable; taxes and levies on every single scrap of material you could think of. Harsher curfews that made it nearly impossible for those in the craftsmen corridor to do much else besides make goods that nobody could afford. It was like the very essence of life was slowly being choked out of the town. Or, at the very least, the spirit of its inhabitants.
Magnus’s ruminative spiral was broken when he felt a thick, scratchy blanket draped over his shoulders. He glanced up and smiled; Julia, dressed far more sensibly than Magnus, darted a hand back through the doorway. In a moment, Magnus’s hands were wrapped around a piping hot mug of mint tea. Admittedly, the drink was more water than tea, but he drank it appreciatively.
“You seem troubled,” Julia mused, sipping from her own chipped mug.
“I am, Julia.” He confirmed, scooting over to make room on the bench. Julia mulled it over for a minute before sitting down. Heat was radiating off her like a fire and it took everything in Magnus to not immediately wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Though he did scoot a little closer. You know, to keep warm.
“I’d like to think that we could go a single week without tax hikes but it’s seeming more and more like a pipe dream,” she said flatly. “I hate this. I’ve lived among these people for as long as I can remember. Raven’s Roost is my home. When I was a little girl, I always used to think dream about the day that I’d get to raise my own family here. It felt like such a safe and warm place. And now…” She glanced at Magnus before she looked to the sky. “Now most days I feel like things might be easier if I just go somewhere else. And I don’t want that. I want to stay. I want to want to stay. I just don’t know that there’s going to be anything to stay for if this keeps up.”
“I want there to be something here for you,” Magnus murmured quietly, looking at Julia’s profile in the moonlight.
“Magnus, believe me, I don’t want to leave my home. I don’t want to leave –“ She looked at Magnus from the corner of her eye. “I don’t want to leave the people here. I just don’t think I can keep living under Kalen.”
“What if we don’t have to?” The words escaped Magnus’s mouth before he could even make sense of them himself.
Julia lurched and turned to look at Magnus, bewildered. “I’m sorry?”
Magnus had a choice. He could have easily retracted his statement. He could have laughed it off. But instead of thinking it over for any amount of time, he doubled down. “What if we don’t have to keep living under Kalen? What if we could still live here, in Raven’s Roost, but without that tyrant?”
Julia looked around before scooting closer to Magnus, their wind-chapped noses nearly touching. “Are you suggesting…” she took a breath, as though to steel herself. “Are you suggesting a revolt?”
Magnus could barely focus on the question with Julia this close to him. “I-I think I am,” his voice was near silent.
Julia nodded. “Okay. How’re we going to do this?”
-
Watery winter light did its best to penetrate the frost coated windows of the Hammer and Tongs. Magnus was idly whittling a piece of scrap wood. There weren’t any orders to work on and Candlenights was right around the corner; he figured he could fashion something homemade for both Julia and Steven.
His pocketknife nearly went flying out of his hand when the door of the shop burst open, startling him out of his focus. Standing in the doorway was a young earth genasi he recognized from town. He looked frantic and near tears. Magnus set his project down.
“Hey, Allura, what’s the matter?” Magnus asked, inviting the young man inside and shutting the door behind him.
“Magnus, it’s my dad,” Allura choked out. He looked gaunt and miserable; Magnus thought back to a few months ago when the entire Mountaindeep family came into the Hammer and Tongs, jovially talking about commissioning a crib, as a new baby was on the way. Allura, a kid all of fifteen, had chattered to him for ten minutes about how excited he was to become a big brother. He looked decidedly less excited in that moment.
“What happened?”
“W-we couldn’t pay the tariffs. My dad has been charging everyone half price. H-he said he couldn’t hike the prices up, it wasn’t right. And we couldn’t… Kalen took him away!” he cried, bordering on hysterical.
“Allura, buddy, you gotta breathe, okay? What do you mean Kalen took him?” Magnus led him to a chair.
“H-he hauled him off to the prison and I don’t know what’s gonna happen to him and my m-mom’s giving birth soon and I can’t help with that, I don’t know how,” He managed to get out, hiccupping between every few words, too distraught to calm down.
“Julia!” Magnus called up the staircase in the back of the shop. He had to get this kid to stop crying so he could get the full story and Julia tended to have a calming presence on, well, everyone.
In a moment, she appeared at the bottom of the stairs and sent Magnus a confused look. He nodded towards the crying teenager as explanation.
Julia rushed over, knelt down, and took Allura’s face in her thick hands. “Hey, hon, can you breathe with me?” she cooed gently. And for a few minutes, the shop was silent, save for Julia counting breaths for Allura.
“Can we hear the story again, bud?” Magnus asked quietly after a few moments.
Allura nodded and sniffled. “You guys know that Kalen raised the tariffs. Again. Um. My dad decided to slash his prices, not raise them to keep up. Said he couldn’t. He’s a big follower of Helm and he said it wasn’t right to keep medicines behind a steep price. He just wanted to help people. But Kalen came collecting today and he took my dad. And it’s not just him. He took Mr. Anvilrock and Sevara Mountainwillow and a few other people. And I don’t know what’s going to happen to them,” he said, his voice small and scared.
Magnus and Julia exchanged a look. She sent him a nod and turned back to Allura. “Okay. Thank you for telling us. Do you think that you can do us a favor?”
Allura furrowed his brow but nodded cautiously.
“Go around to the others in the craftsmen corridor and tell them to meet at the Hammer and Tongs tomorrow night? Just tell them it’s really important that everyone come. And if Kalen or his buddies ask you about it, be as vague as you can.” Magnus said seriously.
“If you’re asked about it, say that I’m teaching everyone how to patch their own clothes since Masden had to close down shop. ” Julia offered.
“But what about the curfew?” Allura asked, voice meek and eyes rimmed with red.
Magnus thought for a moment. “Tell everyone that we might have a way to keep us from having to worry about curfew ever again. I just need everyone to trust me.”
“I think I can do that.” Allura said, rising from the chair.
Julia patted him on the shoulder and slipped a gold piece into his hand. Before he could protest, she held her hand up and shooed him out the door.
Magnus rubbed his face for a moment. “Something’s gotta give, Jules.”
Julia reached a tentative hand out to squeeze Magnus’s hand quickly. “After tomorrow, I think something will. I hope.”
-
“Can either of you tell me why three separate people assured me that they’d do their best to make it to the shop tonight when I stopped in town a little bit ago?” Steven asked from the kitchen table.
Julia avoided her father’s gaze, busying herself with prepping tea instead.
Magnus focused intently on cracking eggs without getting any bits of shell in the bowl. He quickly whisked them together and held off on adding any salt or pepper to the mixture before setting them in the skillet. That was a little tip he picked up from—he thought for a moment—well, from his moms, he supposed. Apparently kept the egg from getting tough or something. He wasn’t really sure what that meant but followed the rule without fail. Made for good eggs, anyway.
“Am I just meant to be okay with the two of you encouraging our friends and neighbors to break the law to come over for a late-night chat?” A stern edge crept into Steven’s voice.
“Steven, we just wanted to have a meeting with the other craftsmen.”
“About what? What’s so important that it requires possibly getting some good people thrown in jail?”
“People are already getting thrown in jail!” Magnus protested. “Allura Mountaindeep came crying in here yesterday. His dad’s in prison, along with a handful of others who couldn’t pay. I just…Steven, you don’t have to agree with what we’re doing but you have to understand. I can’t keep sitting by and watch the town and people I love be beaten down by some big bully.”
Magnus returned his gaze to the eggs. The silence in the kitchen was broken by the teakettle’s shrill whistle.
“We have a plan. And hell, after tonight, it might not even be anything. But Papa, aren’t you tired of struggling? You can be as stoic as you like but I know the truth. This isn’t the life we should all be living. We should be able to have some shred of hope for a future that could matter. A future that isn’t just toiling until we die.” Julia stared at her father as she moved the kettle from the flame.
Steven stared back for a moment before glancing back at Magnus. He let out a sigh. “We can have the meeting but everyone is out before moonrise.”
Magnus and Julia smiled wide.
“Deal.” Magnus said, dividing the eggs between the three plates.
-
A hush fell over the group of craftmakers who all crammed into the Hammer and Tongs. It was a tight fit but it appeared that most of the corridor had managed to make the meeting. The sun had long since set, leaving only the meekest dregs of light hanging in the sky; moonrise was due in less than an hour. Magnus knew he had to make the meeting quick.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard of the few imprisonments that have come about as a result of Kalen’s new tariffs.” Magnus began, bouncing his gaze across those gathered in the shop.
A grumble of acknowledgement reverberated through the dense crowd.
“And I’m sure you all know that any of us could be subject to the same treatment just for being at this meeting.”
More noises of agreement bubbled up in the crowd.
“Then I’ll make it quick and worth your risk. I hate seeing Raven’s Roost like this. I know in my bones it could be better if things were different. I hate seeing everyone beaten down by these laws. I hate seeing Kalen’s friends allowed to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and never see any kind of repercussions for it. I’m sick of seeing people starving in the streets. Sick of seeing families torn apart because one of them had the audacity to be a kind person. I want Raven’s Roost to be a flourishing place.” He glanced over to Julia and pink stained his cheeks. “I want to be able to raise a family here. I want to want that. But as it stands, I don’t know that I can imagine a future for Raven’s Roost. I don’t know how many of us can last like this for much longer.”
“And what exactly are you proposing we do about it?” Hector Anvilrock, another metalworker in town, demanded.
“We’re proposing a revolution.” Magnus said simply.
The shop erupted in conversation. It began civil enough but quickly devolved into name calling and accusations of espionage and snitching. Magnus’s stomach dropped. He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy sell but if this was any indication, he feared for the future of any kind of revolution.
“Enough!” Julia said, climbing onto a chair. She was already taller than Magnus and nearly as broad so the added height made her the single most imposing figure in the room, though her warm brown eyes added an air of compassion. “I understand it’s a scary thought. But do we really think it’s a better idea to just roll over and get kicked? Sure, Kalen has numbers and power and resources. But we actually have something worth fighting for. We have the most skilled craftspeople on the continent. We have conviction. And we have a goal.” She sighed and rubbed her hand down her face. “I understand if any of you are scared or apprehensive. I won’t make demands. I won’t beg. I want you all to join us but I won’t look down on you for not getting involved. I just want to know that we can trust you.”
She glanced over at Magnus who was watching her, stars in his eyes. She raised her eyebrows at him and sent him a tiny nod.
“Well?” He asked, seeming to snap out of his daze. “Can we trust all of you?”
It felt like the entire show was holding its breath until Hector nodded. And then Allura. And then Therala. One by one, each person in attendance gave a silent pledge.
Magnus grinned, relief flooding his veins. This was only the first step, but they’d already hurdled over it with grace. He was certain they’d be able to make Raven’s Roost a safe place for all someday.
The fact that Gwen waited till after she had the beginnings of a plan to prison break Bell before she told them she loved them. Like Gwen how long have you know and not said anything because you didn’t think you would ever see them??? and when Bell was saying don’t lock your heart up in this cell but Gwen says my heart can live wherever it goddamn pleases because she doesn’t think her heart will be in that cell for very long and just yess
my thoughts are still incoherent actually, but im thinking about when gwen actually calls bell a pet name for the first time. thinking about the time bell mistook her speaking to her bot as speaking to bell. thinking about gwen saying “okay, sweetheart, are you ready?” as she prepares to take off to do idk some mapping work, and how bell will momentarily think she’s speaking to them and then self-correct and go “i know, i know, you’re talking to the bot” and gwen will pause. just long enough for bell to pick up on something being off, and “you were….talking to the bot, right?”
she was not talking to the bot. it’s clear in her silence. bell feels like maybe the station has disintegrated from around them and they’re floating in space, no air, no gravity to hold them down. and then gwen’s voice, like a lifeline, an oxygen mask, “is it okay? that i - bell? is it okay?” is it okay? like bell doesn’t struggle for words every time they think those sweet endearments might be for them, doesn’t ache to hear that tone directed at them by gwen. and now it is, and it’s everything they imagined and more. “yeah.” simple and sure, because they’ve never been good with words, its why they leave the bedtime stories to gwen, but that one word seems to be enough for gwen. bell hopes that someday, someday soon, they can find the right words for gwen. better words. but for now they have to map a quadrant near the hot side of the planet, they have crops to plant and bedtime stories to tell. everything else can wait.
And also what about the pure joy Bell feels everytime Gwen calls him a pet name when they are on the same planet and they have absolutely no doubt that it is for them this time
There’s a ton of great sci-fi out there, and I’m sure a lot of you will have heard the popular pods; The Penumbra Podcast, Wolf 359, Girl in Space, The Strange Case of Starship Iris (if not, they’re good! You should!). While those are popular for good reason, there’s a whole bunch of others that are just as good out there! Here are 5 absolutely quality podcasts who have recieved a mere fraction of the attention but given me just as much joy and entertainment.
Up to date as of 8th June 2021
Erraticus
“Three beings - one who is not a condemned criminal, one who is not a nerdy bomb enthusiast, and one who is not an artificial intelligence - end up on the same spaceship, travelling intentionally towards the edge of the solar system and unintentionally towards the center of an insidious scheme.”
A very new show, Erraticus is a space adventure following three fantastic and very different characters as they get drawn into a government conspiracy. 20-35 min episodes with an irregular release schedule (as the creators simply put them out when they are ready to, a decision I admire greatly), it drops information and worldbuilding at a satisfying pace. The character dynamics are amusing and fun (I really love the characters, can you tell?), the sfx are thorough and well-done, and of course I have a soft spot for people living in computers. 7 episodes currently available.
Erraticus may not be available on most major podcasting platforms, but it is on Spotify. No content warnings available, but transcripts are available on the website. You can also follow their Tumblr at @erraticuspodcast
InCo
“A Sci-Fi story about a disgruntled information seller, a mysterious space boy, and an android doing her best”
InCo follows a cool interstellar information trader and her peppy AI, as they travel to unusual and wonderful worlds, but things take a turn when they find a strange boy floating in space, and become wrapped up in mystery and political intrigue. Fantastic space adventure and the product of a single person, who does all the voices, sound work, writing, etc, and my gosh do they do such a great job that I thought it was a whole team at first. Stellar acting, worldbuilding (my gosh the worldbuilding), writing, such a fun cast of characters. 2 seasons totalling 68 episodes of 5-10 mins each are currently available.
InCo is available on major podcasting platforms and on Spotify. Content warnings are available in each episode description, and transcripts of each episode are up on the website. You can also follow their tumblr at @itmeblog
Khôra Podcast
“The women from the tale of Jason and the golden fleece face space monsters, reality TV stars, and the sometimes benevolent, mostly dangerous Olympus Corp as they take on the quest to return the Fleece to Colchis. It’s got pirates, it’s got sentient spaceships, and it’s All About The Ladies! It’s also very queer.”
Khôra Podcast follows four greek mythological women who deserved better (Atalanta, Echo, Medea, and Medusa) on a space adventure somewhere between adapted from and inspired by Greek mythology on a grand adventure. Outside of the mythology element, it is a fantastic piece of standalone sci-fi content. The translation to the new context is satisfying as well, and I’m SO fond of all the characters. Decent soundwork. 9 episodes of ~40 mins each currently available, and be sure to listen to the teasers first.
Khôra is available on major podcasting apps and on Spotify. Content warnings are available in each episode decription, and transcripts linked there as well. You can also follow their tumblr at @khorapodcast
Lost Terminal
“How do you learn to be human if there’s no-one around to teach you? A sci-fi podcast following the journey of a little satellite trying to understand what has happened after Earth stops returning his calls.”
One of my very favourite podcasts, Lost Terminal follows the logs and broadcasts of a sweet and lonely AI living in a space station as he tries to make sense of life and make new friends. Very wholesome, with an endearing cast and gorgeous musical features. Lost Terminal also takes a thoughtful, respectful, and well researched look into mental health, anxiety, depression, DID, loneliness, obsession, and talks about all kinds of interesting topics like cloud seeding for rain, radio, climate change, orbital mechanics, plants, and D&D. Releases ~10-20 min episodes every week, with remarkably short breaks between seasons. 4 seasons of 10 episodes each (40 total) currently available.
Lost Terminal is available on major podcast platforms and Spotify. No content warnings, and transcripts are available free on the Patreon. You can also follow their tumblr at @lostterminalpod
The Pasithea Powder
“On a faraway world, Captain Sophie Green is recovering from a war that ripped her planet apart and left her personal relationships for dead. Among the many atrocities committed on both sides was the invention of Pasithea Powder, a drug with memory altering properties. Thankfully, the drug has been eradicated and only a handful of scientists—now political prisoners—know how to recreate it. When Sophie sees one of those scientists walking free, she has no choice but to turn to an estranged friend for help.”
I’m not going to provide any more summary than is provided above, because it tells you all you really need to know, but Pasithea is a standout piece of sci-fi, and does a fantastic job with both the concept and use of consequences to actions. Neat format, great writing, setup, framing, soundwork, and queer rep. Episodes run about 25-50 mins depending, but usually around 35 mins, and there are 16 so far.
The Pasithea Powder is available on major podcasting platforms and Spotify. Content warnings are available in each episode decription, and transcripts linked there as well. You can also follow their tumblr at @pasitheapowder
Feel free to leave a comment on what genre you want me to do next, be it sci-fi again or something totally different!
It’s been weeks - months - and Bell’s thought about what they could say, when they’re finally on the ground and face to face with Gwen for the first time. Thank you, that’s a strong contender; they know themselves well enough to know they’re more likely to go with how did you do it? Maybe this time they’ll actually be able to say I love you, though Gwen seems adept at picking it up even when they can’t put the words to it. In their head, they planned for it to be - not dramatic, because they’re supposed to be a fugitive and they don’t want to draw attention, but meaningful. The kind of memory that’s something to think back on with misty eyes and fond words.
Capital-R-Romantic, as Gwen termed it so long ago, that first grudging conversation.
