today my anthro professor said something kindof really beautiful:
“you all have a little bit of ‘I want to save the world’ in you, that’s why you’re here, in college. I want you to know that it’s okay if you only save one person, and it’s okay if that person is you”
Guess who’s smiling about somebody reblogging turble again :3
[id: a small simplified figure sits looking at a turtle with hearts around their head, then turns offscreen and says ‘Turble’, pointing down at it. /end id]
just saw a clip where f1nn5ter was saying how at this point, he can’t be cis, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel like he’s trans—he’s just neither. and someone in chat was like “you can’t be neither cis nor trans that’s not how it works” i love finn but why is his chat so fucking bad 😭 stop recreating binaries for the love of god, identity does not have to fall into these neat little boxes for you to police
“Yusuf,” whispered Nicolo. “Yusuf, are you awake?”
Yusuf whined unhappily. “Sadly, yes.”
Nicolo said nothing.
Yusuf let out a long, slow breath. “What is it?”
Nicolo, sitting cross-legged beside their campfire, shifted
as though uncomfortable. “I fear I am ill.”
“Ill?” Yusuf pushed himself up from his bed roll to sit and
look at Nicolo better.
Nicolo nodded.
Their camp was undisturbed – there was no acrid smell of
vomit, no stench of emptied bowels, and Nicolo did not look feverish. He was
perhaps pale, but it was hard to tell given his usual countenance and the
effect of firelight on his face. “Ill,”
Yusuf repeated.
“Something has been wrong for a long time,” Nicolo offered. “I
have not said anything for fear of worrying you, but… “ He lifted his hand
to his chest, flexing his fingers over the spot where, no doubt, his heart beat
quickly.
“Nico. We do not get sick.”
“This is not true.”
“We may experience a purging of something that would do us
harm, we have demonstrated this in vivid fashion all too often,” Yusuf said,
scrubbing his hands over his face. “But true sickness? In all these years we
have not suffered, despite walking through plague.”
“It is not the plague,” Nicolo said firmly.
“Then what is it?” Yusuf asked.
Nicolo looked over toward him. “My stomach is constantly unsettled
and spoils my appetite,” he said at last. “My heart beats wildly for no reason –
there is no danger, and yet it will not cease its clatter.”
“Oh?” Yusuf offered.
“My palms –” And Nicolo held up one hand as if to
demonstrate, “—sweat, and my skin prickles. I cannot catch my breath. Sometimes
…” He shook his head mournfully. “I
tremble.”
Yusuf felt his own heart pick up its pace, hope unfurling
inside his chest like first sunlight. “Is there … do you feel this all the
time?”
“No.” Nicolo shook his head. “It comes and goes; it steals
upon me in the night on watch; it seizes me when I follow you along these
overgrown paths; I wake from dreams and … “
He stopped, swallowed, and his cheeks pinked.
“Nico.” Yusuf pushed
off his blanket and moved to sit at Nicolo’s side. “This does not sound like
illness.”
“No?”
“No.” Yusuf gathered up all the courage inside him and reached
out to touch Nicolo’s face. “Or if it is, I too am sick.”
Nicolo looked suddenly alarmed, his hand coming up to wrap
around Yusuf’s wrist.
Yusuf smiled at him. “Do not worry. I may know a cure.”
Nicolo frowned, looking as serious as Yusuf had ever seen
him, and Yusuf had only a moment to watch that expression change as he leaned
in and pressed his lips to Nicolo’s own.
It was a soft kiss, short, and as Yusuf pulled away Nicolo protested,
humming, his free hand grabbing Yusuf’s elbow. “Wait,” he whispered.
Yusuf did so, watching Nicolo as his gaze drifted between
Yusuf’s eyes and his mouth. “Yes?”
Nicolo pulled in a breath and leaned forward, kissing Yusuf
gracelessly until Yusuf tilted his head and their lips slid together. It was
far from the best kiss in which Yusuf had participated, but no kiss could
compare in summoning such joy to Yusuf’s heart that he thought it might burst.
“I am embarrassed to realize that I … that we – all this time? It was this?” Nicolo asked as
they parted, and Yusuf laughed out loud.
“My best beloved,” he said simply, and Nicolo smiled hesitantly,
hopefully, and they kissed again.
