#can you tell i've put some Thought into it

[drakel-fr-fr]

Not to say people should be terrified of all outdoors or anything, but you have to comprehend how often people are just... really dumb about wildlife and things. I've known people that didn't want to tell their small child not to eat random berries because 'it'll discourage them from exploring' or 'it'll put a damper on the day' and like... some of those plants will kill you. If you aren't prepared to have a conversation about safety, you shouldn't be bringing your child somewhere that is unsafe. I've had to stop people from just picking up snakes barehanded. I've had to stop people who already picked up a snake from bringing it into a campground around other people. I've had to talk down someone drunk that believed they could run off a bear. I've had to ask people not to get too close to pose for pictures with an alligator. Alligators are not mindlessly aggressive- BUT they do not want you near them, and they certainly won't let you touch them or put sunglasses on them, please please understand that they are dangerous animals.

I'm not a professional ranger or even a camp counselor or anything. I've just gone camping with people, that I thought were perfectly reasonable people, and discovered that a lot of people have no idea how to act in nature. Camping is a vacation activity, yes, but the forest doesn't care why you're out there. It isn't going to become less dangerous because you want it to. People that don't spend a lot of time out there tend to have an idyllic image in their heads, and an unerring belief that things will just work out, and this is a fantasy. Nature isn't something people need to be terrified of, but it demands respect. Demands it. If you do not respect the forest, it can and will harm you. People that aren't expecting danger rarely see it. But that doesn't mean it's not there.

At work there used to be a sign on a few things that would say like "if this bubbles, run for your life" and "if you hear thumping run for cover" and "bears can and will kill you" and really in general I wish the park service was more willing to say "you are not at home, you are not at disneyland, you can die here and you can die so badly your family will have to bury an empty casket because no one will risk their own life to collect your idiot corpse."

[emsdevs]

Hi ☺️ I've never written like this on any blog before, but recently a thought crossed my mind about Nico and when I saw your post I thought of writing you. What if the reader is studying sports medicine and needs to study for an exam? She would have known Nico Hischier for some time thanks to her father who is a former NHL player and Nico would have helped her with her studies. She has a big crush on him. And She was just learning about muscle injuries and Nico wanted to give her a visual demonstration of his muscles, so he took off his shirt so that Angie can clearly show places where injuries can occur 🤭? If it's stupid, forget it 🙈 But it seemed like an interesting idea for a short blurb, I think. And sorry for my English, it is not my native language 😅 Have a nice day 🩷

Anatomy Lesson

a/n: I'm so sorry for the delay love. I hope you like it!! I don't know much about sports medicine or human anatomy, so a little bit of credit goes to @heartsforjh for telling me about different muscles and where they can be found!! 🩵

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Nico Hischier Masterlist

You had been knee-deep in anatomy flashcards all evening, and it didn’t seem like it would end any time soon. You had just started looking at the different kinds of muscle injuries for an upcoming exam when you heard a knock at your door. You stood from your couch and made your way to your door, looking through the peephole to find Nico Hischier. Your father introduced the two of you at a Devils event a few years ago, and you have been close friends ever since. You slowly opened the door, confused as to what might have brought him here unannounced, and that��s when Nico smiled brightly and held up the take-out he’d brought.

“You mentioned that you’d been studying most of the day, so I thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he gave you a soft smile before coming in.

“I really appreciate that, Nico,” you return his smile. You lead him into your living room, where you then take a break to eat with Nico. Once the take-out is gone and you’re both full, you settle back in studying, Nico watching with a curious gaze beside you. It doesn’t take him long to pipe up.

“What exactly are you studying? I mean I know it’s like bones and stuff, but what are you struggling with right now?” 

“Right now, I’m looking at the different types of muscles, where they’re located, and how they can be injured, specifically sprained.”

“Oh, wow. That’s… a lot,” Nico grimaces.

“I just can’t quite figure out the abdominal muscles and the ones in that general area. Like I’m almost struggling to picture where exactly they’re located.”

“Oh, well here you go,” Nico stood straight up, slipping his shirt off and tossing it onto the couch beside where you’re sitting. “Now you have a good visual.”

Your mouth runs dry, and you’re not sure when you’ll be able to speak again. Usually, you can keep your crush on the hockey player on the down low, but right now, you’re not sure that’s possible. Just as quickly as your mouth went dry, it started watering, and you had to fight to keep yourself from noticeably drooling. He’s attractive all the time, but with his toned body on display about two feet in front of you, you’ve never been more attracted to him than right now.

“Ummm, yeah. Thanks, Neeks,” you squeak out. Nico pretends not to notice how flustered you are. He had put together a few weeks ago that you returned his feelings, so he’s been trying to subtly step up his game, hoping you would realize he feels the same as you. Being a live model was definitely not in his plan when he showed up today, but he’s thinking this might work out in his favor. “Of course! Feel free to touch too. It might be helpful to feel exactly where the muscle is. You know?”

“Yeah… yep,” your face is bright red. You’re sure of it. 

Before you knew it, you had been naming muscles and pointing them out on Nico’s body for about an hour. You were holding your breath at this point, not used to being this close to him.

“Okay, so obviously these are the pectoralis major muscles,” your hands hover over his pecs, “so this would be the external intercostal muscles.” You move your hands downwards just a few inches, right over where the muscles would be, but something in the air changes when you take a moment to look up at Nico. Your eyes locked, and your hands shifted forward just slightly, now fully lying on his lower chest. You can feel your breathing quicken, and you see Nico’s eyes dart down to your lips. A second later, his lips are on yours, and the moment your brain catches up to what’s happening you’re returning the kiss feverishly. 

His hands move to your waist before one of them slides to your lower back, pulling you as close to him as possible. As much as you love the feel of his firm chest under your hands, you need something to ground you, so you slide them both up his body, leaving one on the back of his neck while the other moves to his hair. You grab his hair lightly, trying to keep him close, but it only causes him to groan into your mouth, pushing into the kiss a little harder. In retaliation, he bites your bottom lip before he pulls away, both of you needing to catch your breath.

The two of you stand there for a moment, not sure what to do now that the line of friendship has been crossed. You watch as a smile slowly breaks out on Nico’s face, and there’s a matching one on yours not long after. You both laugh under your breath, and you hide your face in Nico’s shoulder, hoping he won’t see how red you are.

“How was that for an anatomy lesson?” he giggles like a schoolboy, giving you those perfect doe eyes of his.

taglist: @heartsforjh @fofiquierellorar @justxpaulina @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @ccomandercody

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[marscantread7]

Don't feel like doing that fancy shit w/ the pictures and borders and colors, so js headcanons I have for Sy and Xav and YOU! The reader, not mc. So basically Xavier and Sylus x regular, avg citizen reader. Ig for info. Ur a college student working some normal job js to pay off ur tuition. Like a barista or sumn. Not doing fast food, bc I'm currently a drive-thru worker at a fast food place and I cannot put my self insert character through that😭💔

Sorry abt the other LIs😭💔 I'm tryna get rid of my drafts so I'm js gonna do my two favorites for rn💀💀💀 I'll come back to this concept w/ the other three at a later date

Xavier

- he's suupppeeerrr overprotective of u. Bc like, ur not an evolver at all, and u have no sense of urgency, so like anytime there's fluctuations in the area, or even a wanderer appearance, he's teleporting u far, far away

- He loves helping u study for exams >_< and like, for ur online classes, esp if it's a gen ed class that isn't important to ur major, he will do ur assignments for u and even take tests and quizzes

- "Brings me back to the good ol days🙂‍↕️"

- He will have u bring home recipes for the new coffee ur shop has for a limited time so he can practice making it. He really loves (to try) cooking for u ans even if his croissants come out a little burnt, u enjoy it either way.

- u actually live in a dorm bc unfortunately u can't afford an apartment😓💔 Xavier always gets nervous when he's there bc "what if ur roommate says smth?" And ur js like, "She's always bringing smb new over. I promise u, she will not gaf abt me bringing the same boy over everyday."

- he will always make sure to visit the coffee shop everyday to get breakfast or lunch, and even drop off a treat for u.

- "Saw this fresh banana bread and brought u a few slices"

- keeps u in the dark abt everything involving protocores and wanderers bc bless ur soul! Ur too curious for ur own good and would definitely try to do ur own exploring

- he's caught u one too many times looking up the N109 Zone and has scolded u for it.

- oh yeah! And nothing against u, but he refuses to tell u that he's Lumiere bc of how curious u r. And crazy. U would definitely try to hunt him down to get exclusive pictures for ur Lumiere blog💀💀💀

- "Omg Xav!!! Look at this new Lumiere post? He's so cool!"

- *Xavier trying to keep his cool* Yeah. I bet he is😅😅😅

Sylus

- ur more chronically online than he originally thought when he first met u

- "What would u do if when he okay, so u said yes would go?" "Darling, what the FUCK r u talking abt rn?"

- he's trying so hard to convince u that u don't need to work and he can js pay off school for u

- "Crow man. Listen. I get ur super, mega rich, but u might not always be here to support me. I also feel like less of a burden on u. At least w/ my own money I have that security and assurance that I can still support myself if things don't work out between us, or if smth happens to u." "Kitten, I get that, but for the time being, I'm truly not going anywhere. Why don't u js let me pay for everything and u js put all ur money in a savings. I truly don't mind letting u use all my money, I have more than enough to spare."

- gave u one of his apartments to live in so ur not in those janky ass dorms.

- He refuses to let u step foot inside the N109 zone

- "Ur lucky ur even alive rn. If I hadn't caught u snooping around all those months ago-" "Ugh! Live a little? Aren't u all abt living life ln edge?"

- has to hide his motorcycle from u bc for some reason u know how to hotwire different vehicles????

- Mephisto always snitches on u when ur up to no good

- Srsly, bless ur heart. Ur such a curious soul, and Sylus HATES it. He's genuinely surprised on how u have made it this far in life bc the amount of dangerous situations he finds u in

- "So u knew the energy fluctuations in this area were high and u still decided to go???" "I've always wanted to see a Wanderer in person" "😐"

--------------------------------------------------------

Haha😭😭 js Starcrow w/ a regular ass reader who has no sense of danger LMFAOOO. Kinda half assed the end of them bc I'm js trying to clear out my drafts rn while I have a burst of writing energy rn

[adieutristana]

barricade; vi x fem!reader

realized how little i’ve written for vi and wanted to fix that. this isn’t based on any particular band but i did listen to dream theater while writing :)

summary; you and vi getting barricade at a concert together.

characters included; vi

tags/warnings; fluff, drinking, mentions of smoking, pitfighter!vi, metalhead!reader, moshing together, typical metal concert stuff

men dni.

the line wraps around the building, bustling with excited fans alike. chatter overlaps, beer cans are swirled around, laughter rings through the air. you're towards the front of the line, having made sure to get to the venue early. this was one of your dream concerts, no way you were risking a shitty spot.

you rock back and forth on the heels of your combat boots excitedly, looking over to your girlfriend. she's got that embroidered leather jacket on with some old bandages across her chest, tight jeans and a pair of boots matching your own. you'd put some black eyeshadow on her beforehand with a bit of silver glitter, though you knew you couldn't overdo it.

your own makeup was light, only some smudged eyeliner and black lipstick. you could've done a full face, but if you knew anything about these kinds of shows, it was that makeup wouldn't last. not through the drinking, the dancing, the moshing, the sweating. you can tell that people around you are getting antsy, the doors were supposed to open ten minutes ago. another thing you knew well at this point was that times on the tickets of these events were simply suggestions.

"aren't they supposed to be letting people in?"

vi whispers, her voice low and lips hovering beside your ear.

"these things never start on time."

you hear a little grumble beside you, but she doesn't put up a fight. you chuckle lightly, giving your girlfriend a playful elbow as you look over at the doors. the venue workers are preparing wristbands and getting out ticket scanners, which should signal the line beginning to move soon.

"shouldn't be much longer now..."

"first in line, ticket and id!"

you hear from one of the employees, and a wide grin finds its way onto your face as you tug on the leather of vi's jacket. the line slowly begins to move, though it's not long before you're at the front and about to be checked. you take your wallet from your pocket, grabbing your id as vi does the same. she'd nearly left her apartment without her id, which you feared would make you both late, but clearly not.

you both step up to a woman working the door as she glances at both of your printed out tickets, then your id cards.

"hands out," she states, before placing a yellow wristband on both yours and vi's left wrist, ushering you to enter the venue. you can feel the excitement really creeping in now, a wide grin on your face as you feel vi loop elbows with you.

"we're really doin' this, huh?"

she nudges, a slight smirk visible on her face. dark hair cascading over her shoulder, slightly longer than you're used to. she looks beautiful, really. you nod quickly, taking in your surroundings. a merch stand near the front of the venue with a line already wrapping around a wall, people lounging in seats strewn across the room, a staircase with a sign above it reading 'restrooms.'

vi takes a moment as well, blue eyes flitting around the concert hall as she hums in approval.

"i've never... been to one of these before."

"i know. i honestly thought you would've," you chuckle, your elbow tugging her a little closer to you. "but i mean, look at you. you fit right in."

you state with a proud smile, very obviously eyeing her up and down for emphasis. the smeared black makeup, the boots, tattered jeans, bandages across her bloodied knuckles, she looked as if she was made for places like these. vi looks around at other concert goers passing the two of you, observing the similarities in attire.

"huh, look at that. i guess i do."

your smile widens, before you spot the bar not far from the stage and begin tugging vi towards it. she lets out a little gasp, but lets herself be led by you regardless. you prop one elbow on the bar, looking over the menu. a few mixed drinks, venue originals, some soft drinks and mocktails... all a bit fancy.

"could we just get two cans of beer?"

vi asks, the bartender giving a firm thumbs-up gesture in response as your girlfriend drops some coins onto the bar. a calloused hand rests on the edge of the bar, and vi looks over to the stage with pursed lips. roadies are setting up various pieces of equipment. a drum set, a guitar, microphone stands, pedals, amps, the like. connecting jumper cables and chatting amongst themselves while pointing to different spots on the stage, as if they're following some kind of blueprint.

the bartender slides two cans of beer across the counter to you, taking vi out of her haze. she grabs one can, leaving the other for you. you glance over to the stage as well. despite the volume of people flooding into the concert hall, there's still a good few spots open in the front row. you nudge vi gently, her eyes flitting back over to you.

"look, there's still some room at the barricade."

you point out, a grin forming. vi peers her head over to look, and notices there are indeed still several spaces. her first show, and she'd be getting barricade? sign her up.

"let's go, then."

vi says, already leading you towards the stage. you eagerly take your spots right behind the metal barricade, and it hits you just how close you are to the stage. the band would be directly in front of you, so close you could almost reach out and touch them- though you had the sense to know not to. it all seemed so surreal. months spent saving up for tickets, looking over fliers and listening to the radio for any news about a tour, and you were finally here. with vi, no less.

nearly front and center. this feels bizarre in the best way possible.

"any idea who's opening?"

vi asks, taking her ticket stub from her pants pocket and reading over the names. you glance over it, your brows knitting together. it was... some band, one you'd never heard of. usually you have some idea of who the opener is, but these people must be completely new to the scene.

"no idea who that is. guess we'll have to see how the music is."

you mutter, looking back over at vi. she shrugs and opens her beer with a loud crack. she takes a swig from her left hand, wrapping her right around your waist and squeezing lightly. you feel a bit of heat creep up your neck towards your cheeks, but try to shrug it off. luckily, your girlfriend seems taken enough with the roadies' work, so she won't notice. for now, at least. your own can remains unopened in your hand, figuring it's for the best to save the drinking for the actual show.

"and vi, i love you, but we are not moving from these spots. if you have to pee after drinking that, you're going by yourself, and coming right back here."

vi chuckles dryly, but nods, taking another sip of her beer.

"you got it, cupcake. no moving."

you give her a light pat on the back, nodding.

"good girl."

the crowd begins to pour in behind you, people gathering behind the stage and on the sides in balconies. idle chatter, laughter, and whatever playlist the venue's dj is playing fill the room with excitement, vi holding you close to her. her lips are slightly pursed, and you can tell that she's growing a bit impatient. your mouth opens to say something, to reassure the girl that it'll start soon. but then, the lights dim, and the crowd goes wild.

"is it starting?"

vi asks, watching as members of the opening band disperse onto the stage. picking up their various instruments, beginning to tune and adjust as needed. rearranging cables, with who you presume is the vocalist taping a set list to the front of the stage.

"yeah, it's starting."

you beam, beginning to dig into your pants pockets. wearing cargo pants might've been cute, but now you couldn't find what you were looking for, too many pockets. maybe you were starting to regret your choice of attire a little- there.

"here, take these," you say, holding up a pair of earplugs to vi. "trust me. with how close we're standing to the stage, you won't be able to hear a thing tomorrow."

vi slowly takes the earplugs, popping the foam into her ears as the room goes blackout, save for blue and purple stage lights. you prop one elbow on the cold metal in front of you before cracking open your own beer, taking a sip while watching the band announce themselves. the crowd roars, and the first chords of their song fills the room.

the opener comes and goes- only a thirty minute set, though lackluster. compared to the headliner, you'd think they'd have an equally exciting opening act, but apparently not. but it was also obvious how nervous and new the members were to performing.

"that sucked. i swear, the main act will be better."

"they're just kids, babe." vi responds, hand still firm on your waist. she gives you a gentle squeeze. "don't be like that."

you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, but know vi is right. probably some new band of academy kids, or maybe one of the members has a parent who made it big. either way, they looked scared out of their minds on stage. but it would come with time, you supposed. only about thirty minutes until the headliner comes on, you figure.

you lean over to press a chaste kiss to one of vi's black-streaked cheeks, pulling back with a small grin.

"thanks for coming with me, by the way."

vi shakes her head quickly, her voice a bit raised over the sound of the crowd and music the dj has put back on.

"don't mention it. you wanted me to come, so here i am."

you chuckle lightly, sighing as you lean your head against vi's shoulder. swirling the beer left in your can, tapping one of your feet.

"you're a real sweetheart, vi."

"only for you, darlin'."

your smile widens the slightest bit, before your lips brush vi's cheek once more and you rest her head on your shoulder. not long until the main act, now. the people around you are clearly getting excited, chanting the name of the band and raising lighters in anticipation. it's something that's always gotten to you, the rush of live music. how authentic it is, the fact that you're transported to another world if only for one night.

the lights dim once again, and you hear cheers from all directions- even vi raising her beer can to welcome the artists on stage. the band announces themselves, playing the first few chords of the set. you glance behind you, and the telltale circle for a mosh pit is already beginning to form. you nudge vi's shoulder excitedly, tilting your head to gesture for her to look back.

"what's that?"

"huh?"

you ask. it's suddenly much harder to hear much of anything over the bass.

"what's that?!"

she repeats herself, bordering on yelling.

"oh! a mosh pit!"

vi makes an 'o' shape with her mouth, before turning back to you, her brows furrowed. part of vi looks almost... afraid, for some reason. people in the middle of a circle, running into each other, flailing their arms, punching and kicking. chaos in the best possible way, people enjoying themselves and the music. if one thing's for certain, it's that this crowd has energy.

"let's go in!"

you're practically bouncing on your toes and already beginning to gently pull vi's arm backward. she resists at first, shaking her head.

"come on. you don't have to if you don't want to, but it'll be fun!"

you say, releasing your hold on vi's arm. she presses her lips into a thin line before looking back at the stage, then pauses. it's like something shifted in her mind. suddenly, vi is dropping her now-empty beer can on the ground and crushing it under her heel before taking your arm, striding over to the pit. she instantly begins dancing. some kind of odd rhythm, kicking her legs under her and running around, following the example of others. again, it's amazing to you how vi hasn't been to one of these before.

you jump in soon after, facing a few jabs and kicks, yet it's all part of the thrill. music lovers coming together to let loose, be wild. you're giggling, adrenaline (and alcohol) pumping through your veins. this has to be better than shimmer, it's better than a night out at the last drop or an impromptu joyride. better than half the shit the world has to offer, that other people find joy in. this is it.

a squeal escapes you before tripping over yourself in the pit, only to be lifted back up by the shoulders by another concert-goer.

"you okay?"

she asks, concern etched on her face. you nod frantically, your breath escaping you in quick pants.

"yeah... yeah! i'm good! thank you!"

before going right back to moshing, finding your way back to vi. your movements nearly sync up, and vi is wearing a toothy grin. it's amazing to see her so carefree. so relaxed, and so in her element. she's truly a natural at this, and in this moment, the connection between you and your girlfriend is so much greater than you could've thought possible.

vi's hair is all over the place, sticking to her sweaty forehead and neck. her jacket is nearly falling off of one of her shoulders, and a bruise is beginning to form on that same shoulder. someone must've accidentally hit her in the pit. but you swear, she's never looked so beautiful. the song comes to a close, with the crowd stilling and lighting up in applause. you quickly intertwine your fingers with vi's and maneuver your way back to your spot at the barricade. beaming.

the next song comes and goes, and the energy in the venue only increases. it's multiple times that you and vi both have your chests pressed against the cold metal in front of you due to the sheer force of the pit, helping along crowd surfers and cheering so loud, you may not have your voice the next day.

"that's what i'm fucking talking about!"

you cheer, a guitar solo ringing through the air. the guitarist shoots you a knowing smile, and you almost can't believe your eyes.

"vi! vi! did you see that? she smiled at me!"

"i saw it, cupcake."

she chuckles, shaking her head slowly in amusement. the rest of the show goes quicker than you would've liked for it to, but at the very least you get to mosh alongside your girlfriend a few more times. you get to steal quick kisses between songs, and you get to hold your hands up in the air as you cheer. it's electrifying.

"so- how was that for a first concert?"

you ask, turning to vi as you prepare to make your way out of the venue. without second thought, she's got her arm wrapped around you again as you begin to walk.

"awesome."

she says, matter-of-fact.

"just 'awesome?"

"it was great," she clarifies, with a playful roll of her eyes. "a lot of fun. i was a bit nervous going into this thing, but damn, i wouldn't mind going to another."

a wide grin spreads across your face, taking vi's elbow and squeezing her closer to you.

"i'll have to hold you to that, then."

she lets out a satisfied sigh as you step out into the night air, the smell of cigar smoke and whiskey filling your senses. people are already gathered outside chatting, playing games, maybe having some kind of impromptu after-party.

"oh, and one more thing," vi says, before reaching into her pants pocket and handing you a folded white sheet of paper. "managed to snag this."

you furrow your brows for a moment, taking the sheet into your hands and slowly unfolding it, before your eyes blow wide. a set list.

"holy shit!" you exclaim, eyes locked on vi. "how did you get this?"

she giggles, crossing her arms over her bandaged chest. shrugging her shoulders as if to say it was nothing.

"i got it while you weren't looking. neat, right?"

all you can think to do in that moment is take her cheeks in your hands and pull her in for a kiss, pressing your lips to hers in such genuine excitement.

"'neat' is an understatement, my gods!"

[clytemnestradidnothingwrong]

I have some thoughts on this article (and DEI in general) I'd like to write out, but I'll put it under a cut so it doesn't clog up anyone's feed.

"It was to be an obituary for ‘diversity, equity, and inclusion’ (DEI) a movement that ironically ended up serving as a cover for racism, homophobia, and sexism in the workplace, the media, and academics."

I usually keep my opinions on DEI to myself, because I know it's a controversial topic, and just by disagreeing with DEI concepts I get accused of being conservative, because none of y'all have working brain cells. But that right there sums up my issue with DEI. DEI, to me, is another case of good intentions gone bad.

"I was going to tell you about the time DEI was used to justify saying that turning up on time was the domain of white culture - no one else turns up on time, only white people, and expecting someone to be on time is racist."

It also led to math being deemed as racist, even though math was invented in Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, and fine tuned in the Middle East during the Islamic golden age (none of which are white or European). I even read somewhere that one American school district even made the case for not teaching Black students to speak English. I want someone who is pro-DEI to explain to me how that ISN'T racist.

"I was going to bring up Students vs. Harvard, the famous Supreme Court case that ended affirmative action in student admissions, after it was found that affirmative action was being used to racially discriminate on a systemic level against Asian Americans at elite universities."

DEI (and identity politics in general) have made Asians out to be like a subgroup of White people because their cultures strongly encourage academic prowess and achievement. I guess we forgot about the violent anti-Chinese sentiment in the late 19th/early 20th century and the Japanese concentration campus during WWII.

"I could have talked about the tech job fair for ‘women and non-binary people’ that was filled with men."

DEI and trans activism are interconnected, so I'm sorry, but all I can think of when I see or hear the words "diversity, equity, and inclusion" or "DEI" are the rights, language, spaces, and resources of women being given to men in shitty wigs.

"But everyone’s already said that. Underneath all the fancy verbiage of ‘DEI’, we had white women like Robin DeAngelo quite seriously arguing for segregated racial affinity groups and treating black people like aliens."

While I do think oppressed groups deserve to have their own spaces away from their oppressors, I've read horror stories of it being taken too far and essentially reinventing segregation. There's a difference between starting a school club for only Black students and putting Black students into a different class than their White peers.

"School districts in San Francisco argued that black children couldn’t do algebra, and that algebra was racist white supremacy, and therefore schools should be segregated."

Oh yeah, see, the "math is racist" thing I mentioned above.

"Gays and lesbians were either shoved back in the closet or fired if they objected to being told that sexuality was a spectrum and they could change to being heterosexual."

So this and the handing over women's everything to fetishistic men are why I hate DEI. I fucking hate it and this is why. DEI is misogyny and homophobia to me.

"Being racist towards Jews was now noble ‘anti-colonialism’, because a random synagogue in [insert country] caused the war in Gaza, so it deserved to be covered in swastikas."

What's going on over there is terrible. Both sides (the men) are committing horrific atrocities for no good reason. But the quick rise in antisemitism I've seen is concerning. How many times are we going to go through this before everyone learns their damn lesson? You want to pretend you're "progressive" and more enlightened than your parents/grandparents when antisemitism is almost as old as misogyny?

"It got used as a cover for straight white people to say the most ludicrously racist, sexist, and homophobic things imaginable and then be praised for being progressive for saying that black people are inherently less intelligent, the only way to fix racism is more racism, lesbians should suck dick, gay men should cut theirs off, women should put up with being raped in prison cells by male sex offenders and those evil money-grubbing Jews are secretly running the world. It turns out if you use the right canards from whoever your critical theory best boo is, it’s completely fine to be slightly to the right of Adolf Hitler."

I've always wanted DEI to be something that leveled the playing field for women and people of color. That gave us equal footing in the workforce and the government. We should be teaching women's, African, Latin American, and Asian history in schools. But instead, it turned into this.

"It meant that suddenly networks used by gays and lesbians to connect in the workplace were infiltrated by straight people."

I went to an online lesbian workshop where I saw the faces of over a dozen lesbians of all ages. We talked about our generational differences and what we can all do for each other. I kept my camera off because I was sobbing. I know one lesbian and she's my coworker, but she's a huge TRA, and I'm at the point where I can't stand to be around those type of people anymore. "Progressives" destroyed the gay and lesbian communities. They took our spaces, our resources, and even our words. They're the reason I'm all alone, that I'm too afraid to come out to anyone, that I've given up hope of ever meeting a woman. DEI is homophobia to me.

"If you objected to this, you would find a chat to human resources about not being inclusive scheduled in your Outlook calendar."

If you're lucky.

"It’s finding out everything is suddenly under the banner of diversity, equity and inclusion, and that consequently you’re the wrong sort of diversity: a lesbian with boundaries and an opinion, which for these people, is the worst thing ever."

As a lesbian, in theory, I check some of the "diversity" boxes. In practice, I don't, because I'm the "wrong" type of lesbian (a.k.a I don't take dick, even if the dick haver calls himself Misty).

"When you’re faced with this, you have to grin and bear it if you want to stay employable."

I have to distance myself from my coworkers because I will lose everything if they find out my politics do not align with theirs. I have to go in there every day and pretend I like these fake performers who would destroy my life if they knew how I really felt.

"Let me tell you what ‘DEI’ in the workplace is like as a gay person. You have to go in the closet."

I've been able to make my closet space comfortable, at least. It's quiet with lots of pillows and blankets.

"You cannot ardently defend your rights outside of work, and if you use a pseudonym to do so, you had to understand how to protect it, or you were going to be doxxed and lose your job."

I use fake names and don't give out any personal information and I'm still extremely paranoid.

"You turn up to the ‘LGBTI+’ work networks, hoping to meet gay colleagues, but there are none, and now Bob from Accounting is calling himself Lilith and wants to connect with you as a fellow lesbian."

Or Hetty Betty the Admin starts calling herself "queer" even though she's dating a man and has never once expressed interest in women.

"You don’t want to be used as a validation vending machine, or a prop in some straight person’s fantasy about ‘living the queer lifestyle’. You feel like a zoo exhibit at every ‘networking meeting’ for the ‘LGBTQIA+’, as you’re the only real deal in a room full of pretenders, and you stop engaging. You find Bob in the bathroom, attempting to lower his hairline. He tries to talk to you about lesbian girl gossip. You just wanted to sneakily watch five minutes of the Packers game on the toilet in peace, but now there’s a man in your bathroom being a creepy fuck and you’re not allowed to complain about him being there."

I avoid all things "LGBT+" like the plague, because that's what they are. Plagues of homophobic, ugly, smelly straight people.

"You listen to some woman with a husband and three kids at home telling you about how she’s a queer authority, and therefore is righteously delivering you inclusivity training. She’s queer because she dyed her hair purple and bought some Birkenstocks, but she’s never seen another woman’s pussy in her whole damn life, and you keep your damn mouth shut because you don’t want to be fucking fired."

This is my work life and I FUCKING HATE IT!

"If you were butch, suddenly there was a gaggle of straight women assuming you were like them - a gay trans man. When you were fairly clear about your lesbianism, it started to turn hostile. See, your average butch lesbian woman can pass as a man on first inspection without much effort. Their masculinity comes naturally, and some of the attraction for many femme women is the inherent contradiction, the masculine female, somehow still completely masculine even when the adornments come off and reveal the female body underneath.

This provokes jealousy - you become an object of envy and hatred - to the woman pretending to be a man, you are doing what she wants to do - perform masculinity - not only effortlessly, but fully embracing your womanhood while doing so. To the man pretending to be a woman, you remind him of what he will never be, no matter how hard he tries, because you are living proof that womanhood has nothing to do with whatever kind of drag society pronounces as ‘feminine’. Living proof of the old gay maxim that you’re born naked, the rest is drag, you are a walking, talking argument against the veracity of trans ideology. Simply by existing, you undermine their arguments. Thus you must be bullied, if not into hating your own body, and into transition, you must be dehumanized, debanked, unemployed, a pariah, excluded, branded with scarlet letters, held aloft as a great evil. Diversity, equity, and inclusion does not apply for women like you, who really should just transition so we’d all stop being confused."

The medicalization of gender non-conformity is one of the worst aspects of DEI and "progressives" in general. The audacity of these monsters to sit there with fake smiles on their ugly faces as they act like they're morally superior and enlightened to everyone around them, only to go full on 1950s conservatives the second they see a woman with short hair.

"It does not matter if you kowtow or if you say the right words in order to stay employed. The jealousy, the envy, the simmering hatred of one who contradicts their entire belief system simply by existing, that’s something that knows no bounds. You are living wrongthink no matter how many times you respect the pronoun pin, and they will try their best to destroy you in any way they can."

They hide this monstrous face behind buzzwords and fake smiles. Once you see past the facade these self-proclaimed "progressives" have built, you can never look at them the same. I count my lucky stars every day that, for the most part, nobody has shoved their politics too much down my throat, and mostly accept that I don't talk about anything political at work. How much longer this will last, though, I do not know.

"Now anyone who was counted as ‘diversity, equity and inclusion’ faces the accusation that they were only hired based on their identity characteristic and are by default assumed to be incompetent."

This is where the authoress and I may disagree, because I haven't seen much evidence of the so-called "DEI hires". I don't believe this is DEI's biggest problem. In all the search committees I've been on, I've seen this happen once, and it certainly wasn't for a woman or a person of color. It was for a veteran. Some states require you to interview veterans if they apply, regardless of their qualifications. I once had to interview an extremely unqualified veteran for a position in my department. Where's the uproar for that?

"It says it’s ‘LGBTQI+ inclusive’, but all the gay characters ring hollow - then you realize that if you were playing as the opposite sex, they’d all be heterosexual. That’s not really representation, you think. It means there are no actual gay characters in this video game. A playersexual character is not a homosexual character."

Gay and lesbian representation in media is so bad that I don't want it anymore, and I have progressives - not conservatives - to thank for that.

"You try playing something else. All the options to make your character look like you are gated behind calling your character a male, even if they have a ‘body type 2’. You need to select the correct pronouns to wear the leather jacket and if you choose to do so, the game offers to give your avatar ‘top surgery scars’."

Not even that sometimes. One of my favorite video games has all the characters refer to you as "they", regardless of the sex your character is, but you can still tell they intended for the PC to be male, even when trying to be "inclusive" (though in my opinion, it was more the laziness of not wanting to pay voice actors to say a line twice then a desire to be "woke").

"If you say something, suddenly you’re a right-wing chud, not a lesbian who wants genuine representation that was written by an actual lesbian, not a straight man in a dress playing pretend. You think, maybe it’s a corporate thing, these DEI games. You go looking for indie games, but searching ‘lesbian’ on Itch.io brings up two pages of autogynephilic fetish porn games about being a ‘gay mess’. Every time you hear about a ‘lesbian creator’ on social media, you look them up only to find a man staring back at you."

I despise "lesbian" media. DESPISE IT. I know liberals are stupid, so they can't comprehend that it's not right-wing to want genuine representation. And it's either a creepy man with the autogynesmile or a straight woman LARPing as "sapphic" (another term I fucking HATE).

"You try finding other people who are equally incensed about this, but it turns out the most prominent critics are the actual right-wing chuds."

That's my situation. The only ones willing to hear me out and not ostracize and punish me are right wingers. We live in the Twilight Zone now.

"The real problem with all of this, according to them, is that there’s actually women, black people, and homosexuals in media to start with. That’s all woke nonsense, and we need to return to only having straight white men in all forms of media, the workplace, and everything else, before all this woke nonsense took hold and ruined everything with ‘DEI pandering’."

And that's usually where my conversations with them end. It's nice to be able to vent about trans bullshit, but their reasons for hating it are usually so different then mine, so I end up still feeling alone, unheard, and depressed.

"That straight white men, regardless of what they call themselves, are implementing all of this 'forced diversity' or benefiting the most from the hallowed DEI status of 'transgender' is beside the point. Women and minority gamers didn’t ask for ‘body type 2’, they asked for the opportunity to play protagonists that were like them. That’s not ‘DEI pandering’. That’s asking for the same opportunities that their white male counterparts have."

It's true. It's male-driven. Even the annoying as hell diehard female DEI supporters are only this way because they've been told it's the "kind" and "progressive" thing to do.

"It’s now at the point that you know that anything that openly advertises how safe it is for ‘LGBTQI+’, or how inclusive it is, is by default something that will be actively homophobic. Whether it’s a workplace, a retail store, a political party, a film, a video game, a book, a bar."

Yup. I see that ugly "Progress Flag", I know the place is crawling with homophobes. I see any version of that stupid fucking acronym, I steer clear, because it's not for me, it's for straight people.

"You know the more they preach how inclusive they are, the more sexist, homophobic and racist they are in reality. This disease has made itself present in every single cultural aspect of modern life."

Yes, holy shit! It's something I've observed over and over again. I've noticed so many times that the ones who go on and on about being kind are usually the worst people you'll ever have the misfortune of meeting. To quote the Suffragists, "deeds, not words". Those who are actually kind and inclusive don't feel the need to talk about how kind and inclusive they are.

"There is no venue for liberal criticism of any of this, let alone gay criticism. You’re either totally on board with DEI or a drag queen on TV is a harbinger of the pedophile apocalypse."

I hate the binary thinking so much. Your made up "genders" can be "nuanced" or "complex", but political beliefs can't?

"You face the Sophie’s Choice between insidious homophobia, or outright homophobia."

Honestly, I'll take "ok that you're gay just don't talk about it" homophobic from conservatives over "unlearn your genital fetish you gross TERF" homophobia from liberals any day.

"Your cultural world gets smaller, because mass culture has decided it doesn’t want people like you in it, because if you’re a homosexual with boundaries, you’re a bigot. You spend your working life walking on eggshells around Bob from Accounting, especially when he turns up to work dressed like a hooker."

And Hetty Betty from Admin who preaches tolerance while being completely intolerant of anyone who doesn't think like her.

"and paint women and racial minorities as inherently under qualified and incompetent compared to their straight white male colleagues who, in their minds, only got where they were on pure merit."

Talk about a lack of self-awareness (the White men, not the authoress).

"No woman or black person or gay person or someone who’s all three ever got to a high position based on their own merit, instead they got there because of ‘diversity, equity, and inclusion’. They were quota hires. ‘DEI hires’. They’re not real people, real workers, who worked hard to get where they are. It was just handed to them based on their identity. No one wants to be tarred with that brush, but that’s the brush the modern shitlib has successfully tarred every minority group under the sun with. Fuck you."

I hate hearing conservatives yap on about "DEI hires". Quotas are actually an effective way to get women and racial minorities hired. And even if the woman or person of color isn't 100% qualified, so what? Most things can be taught, and so many unqualified white men get hired all the damn time. Everyone's priorities are so fucked.

"In the end, a bunch of privileged and rich straight white people ruined culture, destroyed the gay community, ruined people’s lives, and completely destroyed affirmative action as a concept, all to make themselves feel better. The only thing that’s been achieved is reinforcing old bigotries and setting women and minorities back twenty years. That is the lasting legacy of ‘diversity, equity, and inclusion’."

And that, to those of you who actually decided to read my ramblings, is my problem with the Left and with their initiatives like DEI. They don't actually care about anyone but themselves. They only say they want to help the marginalized to make themselves look good. Women, people of color, gays, the poor - we are nothing but props to them. Pawns to use in their games against the right. I realized this a few years ago, and my god, I can still feel the knife in my back. It makes me want to lose all hope. I can see it in every "caring" action my "woke" coworkers take.

I sit there and listen to them try so hard to make themselves out to be so humble and selfless in their desire to help others, all the while patting themselves and each other on the backs to an insufferable degree, acting like they've saved the world. It comes off as so insincere. I don't even speak at these meetings anymore, because I want my actions to speak for me. Why don't they?

"Let me know when this is all over, and I can go back to being a lesbian at work, and I can play video games as a woman instead of a Body Type 2, and lesbian conversion movies stop being ‘great queer representation.’"

We were there once. It was for a short time, but we were there. We could bring it back again, if we really tried. Maybe someday I'll be proud to be a lesbian again.

Now that DEI has been sent off to DIE, an obituary to ten years of closeted hell.

[dirtyzucchini]

So I have this Fraser/RayK story I'm working on that has grown a whole universe around it. In that wider universe, Fraser and Ray at some point go to their first Pride parade together. And from the pictures and mementos they brought back, I made this!

I'm super in love with it, it makes me really happy! If you'd like to see details and some progress pictures, read on!

So here are the pictures that I picked for the collage (except the purple couch one, that was for something else):

The two crowd pictures are from a 2003 Chicago Pride video I dug up on youtube. The two lettered designs are pictures of the t-shirts they wore on the day. Yes, even Fraser. I think you can tell who wore which.

The photo in the top middle is a lovely, lovely manip @syrupmap made for this project for me. You can't tell in this picture, but it's Ray leaning towards Fraser in the patented Kowalski move.

The rest are candids taken on the day.

So after I screwed four teeeeny tiny hooks into the frame (so tiny) (unbelievably annoying to handle) it was time to get to work on the background. I knew I wanted some keepsakes to put in there, and the first thing I made was a matchbook. It's in the bottom left corner now - have a closer look:

It's from the bar I invented! The idea is that they went there with friends that night - the bar also offered non-alcoholic cocktails, which was pretty rare and cool then! Still is probably.

I designed the logo because I could. #graphicdesignismypassion

After that I thought back to the Prides I've been to and the stuff I brought back from there - pamphlets (no room), individually wrapped condoms (couldn't figure out how to fake one), pins (still working on the skills, stickers and patches. HMMMMMM.

Have I mentioned that #graphicdesignismypassion?

I recently bought a used plotting machine (basically a printer but with a knife instead - mine can also do some other things), so I designed a sticker and a few patches to choose from and let the machine do some magic!

After some trial and error (it is generally frownd upon when you can wipe the ink off the sticker) I ended up with these:

The bottom right one has a bit of a texture, but you can't see it from every angle, so I decided against it, but still, not bad.

The puppy was very concerned with all this activity going on, but he was brave about it.

This is the background when all was said and done and some rainbow ribbon had fallen out of a random bag:

And this is where the finished product now lives - two of the pictures didn't fit inside, so outside they went!

Thank you for following me on my journey! I had SO MUCH FUN MAKING THIS!

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 16

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,900 of 42,623

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He must really hate my guts for suggesting that he would be able to kill me because he doesn't tell me where we're going, not even when we disembark at the station. Together, we walk the way I tried to escape, except we go straight to the bakery that I had passed up. It’s just as cramped as the bakery that Bruno had taken me to back in the Emerald City, even if it is better kept. This bakery also has those sweet saffron buns that suffocate every inch of the building, and I can feel my mouth water at the thought of biting into one, considering all I’d had today was hardtack, tea, and hot chocolate. Instead of throwing down cash on the counter for some treats, he slaps down a golden pin that he had kept in the pocket of his waistcoat. The emerald eye tie tack.

"You been to the desert?" the baker asks, shifting his eyes between him and the gleaming tie tack. He's a wide set man of fifty, a five o'clock shadow darkening his already exhausted face and his arms are coated in flour up to the elbow.

"And I've seen wondrous things," the Wizard replies, “and met wondrous men.” The conversation doesn’t make any sense, but I don't think it's supposed to.

"What can I do you for, my brother?" the baker asks.

"I need a ride to the Upland estate," the Wizard says. "I'm supposed to meet some fellow travelers there."

The baker presses his lips together, nodding as if mulling over the request. "Do you plan to be going in the front door, or the back?"

"The back," the Wizard says. "I wouldn't want to draw any attention to myself. It's a confidential meeting, you understand."

"I've got a shipment going up there just now; you're lucky about that. If you go out the back, just put yourself in between the bags of rolls and donuts, okay? And don't eat none. The Uplands butler likes to count them and I get dinged if there's some missing."

The Wizard gives a short nod and swipes his emerald tie tack off the counter. "Thank you. We won't be any trouble." He grabs me by the arm and we step behind the counter and weave our way back through the narrow kitchen.

"The Upland Estate?" I ask. "What's that, some sort of country club?" I don't actually know what a country club is, but I'd heard it in passing. A place where rich and fancy people mingled and laughed, and were rich and fancy together, surrounded by all the comforts of luxury... like rolls and donuts that could be counted.

"The Uplands, doll. You've never heard of them?" he asks.

"Should I have?"

We push out the battered wooden back door – the knob to it was completely missing, a crude wooden handle nailed in its place – and find a wooden cart and horse out back, piled high with burlap sacks filled with presumably donuts and rolls. The horse wickers as the Wizard pulls himself up into the cart and then me. We wedge ourselves out of sight as instructed, our drab and dirtied clothes blending into the wooden wagon and bags.

_________________________

It's a breeze getting past the guard and gates. When the wagon comes to a stop we wait and lie until there's a smack on the wagon. The Wizard peeks his head up first and I watch as the smile spreads on his face.

"Tomathy, good to see you again. What's it been? A century?"

I poke my head up to get a good look at this Tomathy. He seems to be the same age as the Wizard, a bit shorter, but well built to support the flashing eyes and aged wrinkles. Despite looking to be in his late sixties, he still has a full head of gold hair – truly golden, not blonde like one might try to romantically sway you into believing was gold. Tomathy's wrinkles press together like an accordion up his face as he smiles like a maniac. "Oscar, looking terrible as ever."

"Yeah, and you don't look so hot yourself. Mind giving me a hand here? I'm swimming in bagels," the Wizard says.

"It's donuts actually," I correct.

"Who's this?" Tomathy asks the Wizard, looking between the two of us. "You're still a big player aren't you? Where'd you find her? At the train station?" Tomathy has hopped up onto the cart and is pulling the Wizard from the sacks of baked goods.

"She's my assistant," he says, righting himself with a dust-off before clapping Tomathy on the back into a hug.

Oh, so that's how he plans to play it. In truth, I expected him to introduce me as his daughter, but this Tomathy must be enough in the know that it would be a laughable excuse. At least he had enough shame to not introduce me as some sort of sex pet. That would be wholly untrue considering I've only let him fuck me once back in the cabin. I try to keep my face unreadable as I push myself up out of the burlap sacks with the help of the side of the cart.

"Well, I can see why you picked her," Tomathy says, breaking from the embrace to ogle my full form now. "Sweet Oz, you're robbing the cradle before it's even been built."

"You know I can hear you, right?" I say crossing my arms. His eyes drop straight to my chest. I immediately uncross them.

At least to the Wizard's credit, his lip is curled in disgust. Whether it is about the remarks or the fact that his age-old friend was sizing me up, I don't know, but I'm grateful when he says, "Come on. Let's get inside. I haven't had anything to eat today."

"The Uplands keep us well fed," Tomathy says, hopping down from the wagon. "Pears and aged meat and the finest cheese and wine you've ever tasted."

"Well," the Wizard says with a laugh, "it almost sounds like you've appointed yourself as their personal food-taster." Tomathy offers a hand as the Wizard hops out of the wagon after him.

"Lady Upland has stuffed us until we can’t fit anything else down our gullets," Tomathy says. "Morrible looks like she's ready to snap if they try to offer her one more cream puff.

The Wizard waits for me as I walk to the edge of the cart, and then effortlessly seizes my waist and lowers me to the ground right in front of him. "Good?" he asks.

It's a double entendre of a question. We haven't talked about the fight we had before we left the wreck site, but he hasn't even made the effort to apologize or offer any sympathy for my plight so I'm not going to forgive him just yet. "Good," I mumble, breaking out of the embrace to walk in step with Tomathy. His first impression of being a raging womanizer hadn't worn off, but at least it was better than someone who hadn't denied that they would have you killed.

"It's a bit frosty for that kind of behavior, don't ya think?" Tomathy says as he walks towards the servants' door. "Cheer up! You're alive and well. Sweet Oz, that train wreck though... I hope we get some intel on it soon. We just received a report from the front lines and were waiting for you to arrive. I heard about it when I came in. They weren't going to let any trains through. Mail stopped going that way too."

We walk through the massive kitchen, a stark comparison to the bakery we snuck through. I feel a smirk tugging at my lips. Where the baker only had one aisle shotgunning from front to back, the Upland kitchen was only a tad shy of that of the Emerald Palace. You could throw one of the donuts from a burlap sack from one wall and – unless you were exceptionally strong – miss the wall opposite in width alone. Staff in clean white coats busied about the sanitary metal of their beehive, whisking creams and traying sandwiches and coffee for the lunch hour, none of them paying us any attention.

Continuing the tour up through the white and black chic of the foyer and staircases, I begin to wonder if the Uplands weren't perhaps behind Frottica looking as colorless as it did. It was more white than black, and even in a time of war, there was a grand vase of all white flowers that bloomed and cascaded from a glass vase big enough that a small child could fit into it if it were empty.

"Morrible is here, you said?" the Wizard asks.

"Here and agitated. Nobody's told her that they found you yet. I'm surprised she hasn't sicced a hurricane on that little base camp Fiyero's got outside the city. It would’ve be a nice surprise," Tomathy says.

"You didn't tell her?" the Wizard asks.

"Hell, I didn't even know you were alive until I saw that white mop of yours waving in the wind. I was looking out the window wishing I could get out of this nuthouse when I saw you coming up the road towards it.” Tomathy barks a laugh. “I said, 'He never did know how to not make an entrance.'" Tomathy is still laughing and the Wizard exchanges an uneasy smile. "What? Stuff still weird between the two of you? I thought you fixed it. Tell you what: you patch it up with her, and your assistant and I can get to know each other better." He wraps an arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side with a click of tongue and teeth. "Promise you won't have to do any work around me."

"Tom," the Wizard snaps.

Tomathy removes his arm from around me and I turn to see the same expression from when we had fought back on the train: angry and reckless. Tomathy is nothing more than a dog to him and it is time to come to heel at the command of his master, man's best friend to an extent. Tomathy holds his hands up in surrender, saying, "I didn't know it was like that."

"Well, now you know," the Wizard says, brushing past Tomathy and me, taking the steps two at a time.

"Has he always been like this?" I whisper to Tomathy.

"Like what?" Tomathy asks. "Possessive? Sweetheart, that is a you and him problem to work out. I'm already on thin ice. Come on." He heads up the white marble stairs after the Wizard and I follow behind him.

We don't have to go very far on the second floor. The doors to a massive personal library are propped open and I can hear the chatter that is coming through them. It comes to a hush and I know that he must've caught their attention. I'm sure he looks ghastly to them. They hadn't spent the past few days with him, watching as he metamorphized into dull browns, snow-covered, and, at last, completely unkempt through our trek through the wilderness and disaster. The shadows under his eyes had deepened and his hair was now fully back to just its regular waves rather than its carefully coiffed swoops.

I follow into the library after Tomathy just in time to see Madame Morrible throw her arms around him in a manner so stoic it seemed rehearsed. The expansive windows that overlook the backyard gardens and hedge maze have flooded the room with light and I swear I can see tears in her eyes, and the way her nails are clawing into the back of his woolen coat.

"Madame Morrible," Tomathy says, "I was just coming up here to let you know that he-"

"You're alive," she says, voice choked.

"I am," the Wizard replies.

That niggling feeling I'd felt at the tea shop is back and I want to slink into the corner of the room, and maybe down into the kitchens where I might be more at home. I didn't need to know names and titles to know how to serve at a table. I didn’t need to have a history.

"As much as I'd love to savor this reunion," a broad man with a green Oz uniform and dark complexion says, "we are at war, and we've just received a briefing. Time is of the essence."

The crowd crumbles at his words, immediately shedding their attention from the Wizard and Madame Morrible and heading back to their seats at a makeshift open rectangle that had been built from four long tables. As much as the feeling is still gnawing at me to steal away to the servants' quarters here, I want to hear this briefing. We hadn't heard anything from Bruno in days and that news was even days old by then, taking much longer to be smuggled out rather than through the efficiency of military and spies. I wanted to know if Fileah was okay, but that would have to wait. Now would be if I found out if Bruno was okay, and if Bruno was okay then Fileah would be okay. Tomathy is following the Wizard and Madame Morrible to sit down, and I decide to stick by him. He seems to have changed his womanizing tune after the Wizard snapped at him, so I probably wouldn't have to endure any under-the-table fondling.

The kitchen staff come in with carts full of food and drink, but the man in the Oz uniform starts before the table has been set. "I want to start by thanking the Lord-Mayor of Shiz for committing another five thousand troops to the cause. They are sorely needed at this time, and with them, we have more than enough of a shot at winning."

A frail looking man next to Madame Morrible stands and offers a weak nod to an applause before taking his seat again. I think that I can see the crest of Shiz on his lavender jacket. He says, "It is an honor to serve our great land of Oz."

The Wizard whispers something to Madame Morrible, but I can't hear it with Tomathy sitting between us.

The military man continues, "As for the briefing that we have just received: it does not look good."

My hand finds Tomathy's under the table and I wish so badly that it wasn't his.

"Something wrong?" Tomathy whispers to me.

"A friend back home. He's one of the Royal Palace guards," I reply.

The military man is continuing to go on about the death toll and how the citizens of the Emerald City are reaching critically low food stores, but Tomathy pulls my attention back to him. "Does the Wizard know about the two of you? It's not wise to piss him off. You see what happened to me – and he likes me on a good day."

I try not to scoff at the idea. "No, no, it's not like that," I whisper. "Bruno is like a brother to me. He's been looking out for my sister back home and he's the one that got the Wizard and I out of the city."

"My condolences to you then," Tomathy says. "I hope the Unnamed God is merciful on your friend. He's doing a service to this country. I can't think of a more dangerous place to be, but someone's got to do it." He squeezes my hand to seal the blessing. It's meaningless if what the rest he said is true. The five thousand troops will be our lifeline, an emergency blood transfusion as we hemorrhage on the front line.

"Overall, the casualties have not been excessive," the military man continues, "but the breach of the city walls puts us in a terrible position. The Gale Force suspects that they targeted highborn hostages: innocent women and children. Probably to get us to cooperate better. A higher price tag is a better bargaining chip."

I feel a weight lifted off my chest and squeeze Tomathy's hand back. The Unnamed God was merciful, and unless Bruno was exceptionally unlucky, he was probably still alive.

"You say that they suspect a target of highborn hostages," a man says from the table across from our side of the rectangle. He's dressed from head to toe in green with thick spectacles that make it very obvious every time he blinks. "I have family in the Emerald City still. I need to know if they're okay."

The man next to him puts a hand on his shoulder. "George, you wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway, the entire city is blockaded. There's no getting in or out."

"Gentleman, please," the military man interrupts. "I can answer questions as long as we keep order. The report said that there were obvious break-ins in the Garden District. If that's were your family lives, then feel free to worry, but like our friend said, the entire city has been blockaded. We'll need to do an extraction mission or wait for their demands." He goes back to reading the report. "They say they suspect it was a target of highborn hostages, innocent women and children. Of note were the obvious break-ins in the Garden District-” He nods to the quivering green man. “A break-in at a womens-only boarding house, and a break-in at an orphanage."

[midnight--sadness]

so, i've been thinking and seeing people's reactions, and have a few theories about the photos:

noeul was the one who shot gyeongseok, non fatally, and she put him in a guard's uniform (kinda spoiled by that phoo park gyu-young posts on insta). she is trying to get him out of the island so he can be with his daughter. now, he either runs away from her to try and get help and she runs after him, finding herself outside. or, they try to get off the island together, but i don't think that's very likely.

if you enhance on hyunje's jacket, you can see the number of the ajcet begins with a 2. it's obviously not hers, because her number is 120. daeho can be seen at the far back, and it seem like namgyu is next to him. and myunggi looks to be on the top left. now, i think the body in the coffin is jungbae, to show the people who revolted what happens when you considered yourself about the rules and as a way to turn the O players against gihun.

this one is tricky. at first i thought it was inho's personal room but the bed is like the ones in the dormitory and the floor is similar. now, the light is very warm, which means it could be night time and only the piggy bank is glowing. if so, i think this is daeho, coming to talk to gihun. i think gihun would be upset at first, since he knows that daeho didn't deliver those magazines and he had to hand his own to youngil, thus depriving of ammo that could save jungbae's life. but i think after daeho explains, gihun will forgive instantly (not that there is anything to forgive) and comfort him, and they will grieve jungbae together.

now, if this isn't during the night, and gihun is handcuffed to the bed while the other players play the fourth game, then maybe this could be the front man. the curve is very smooth, not angular like a face and there is no hair in the way, which could be explained by a hood being pulled up. this could be the reveal™.

inho is obviously doing some self-reflection. maybe realizing that the games have corrupted him and he still has time to save the people in the games? maybe seeing how gihun is right or thinking of gihun's reaction to him being the front man if this is post reveal.

we can see the shadows of younghee and chulsoo, so, along with the post credit teaser, we can assume the next game is dongdaemun. what is different is that no blood is on the ground, unlike the posters of the two previous seasons. could be a clue to a different ending?

i have no idea what the flowers mean, i can't even tell what kind they are. i actually thought they could be about inho's wife, since we see a photo of her holding flowers and junho puts fresh ones in her grave (and the camera lingers on them for a few seconds). i can't screenshot netflix but the flowers look very similar to these ones.

alternatively, the vips' room also has a lot of floral decorations. we seet it in this picture below. it's very colorful, very bright.

here i think inho is waiting for the vips. i've seen some people say this is gihun, but i don't know why they would think that? is there anything in the photo that points to this being gihun?

what do you guys think? i wanna hear everyone's theories!!

[marcelloandtyler]

By the time he reached the summit, snow had begun to fall. It was light and pretty and he wasn't too concerned, figuring it might just be a dusting in the mountains. It wasn't uncommon in the winter for such things to happen, as evidenced by the depth of the snow towards the top of the 3,000 foot mountain he'd ascended. Marcello wasn't an expert in the mountains, but he wasn't stupid. He was aware of weather dangers and how things could quickly change, and this didn't worry him. Besides, he'd past by a few other hikers - some going up, like him, and some descending. It was nice knowing he wasn't alone out here.

Instead, he focused on the beauty of the fresh snow clinging to the needles on the pine trees and the way everything sagged with the weight of it. At the top, he felt better. Marcello knew Levi. His depression was coating his brain, like a plague seeping into his thoughts and tainting everything into something ugly. Max had been trying to get under his skin and when he talked to Levi later, he would tell him how it all made him feel and get his take on it. He had to trust Levi. They'd talked about all of this in the past and he'd warned Levi about his depressive episodes, so he knew his boyfriend would understand. He just had to trust it, had to trust Levi. They were together for a reason.

At the top, he snapped a few photos because it was too gorgeous not to. He had no bars and he realized his battery was pretty low, so he turned his phone off to conserve it for the way home. He had an orange and a protein bar before he made his way back down. It was, admittedly, more difficult to descend with the snow making things a bit slippery, but his mood was better and he took it slow.

It was the late afternoon when he got back to his car and he realized almost immediately that the snow was sweeping through the whole area. The parking lot was coated and not yet plowed, but he didn't think it looked too bad. He dropped his bag in the backseat, started the engine to warm it up, and grabbed his brush to dust off the car. Once he finished, he got into the car to leave. As soon as he put it in reverse, his heart sank. His tires spun and he could only back out about a foot before it stopped. He tried a few times, rocking his car back and forth, but it was useless. He was stuck.

He took a deep breath and relaxed back, trying to figure out what to do. He had no service, but he figured a plow would be around eventually; though, would they really prioritize plowing a small parking lot with a trailhead? The only thing that made him feel a little better was small pickup truck and an SUV in the parking lot and he assumed they belonged to the people he'd passed on the trail. Maybe they'd be able to help in some way.

Marcello sat there for nearly an hour before two women who looked to be in their 20s exited the trail and began heading towards the SUV. He sucked up his anxiety and hopped out of his car, walking over to them, giving them a wave.

"Hey! Uh-- My car is stuck and I've no service," he said.

"Oh no! We have no service either," one of them said. "Do you need a ride? This baby can get through anything." She patted the hood of the SUV as the other girl grabbed a snow brush out of the car and began dusting it off.

Marcello's brows furrowed. "Uh-- Maybe? I don't really know what to do. I was hoping someone would be by to plow," he said.

"They probably will eventually," she said, glancing around. "We're happy to give you a ride, though, and maybe you can call a plow company for help?"

Marcello nodded, considering. He really wasn't sure he had any other options unless he wanted to possibly sit in his car until morning. Without service, he had no way of getting out of here.

"Okay," he said. "Thank you. That's really kind of you."

"No problem," she said, smiling. "I'm Lucy and that's Megan."

Megan waved. "Sorry about your car," he called as she scraped the back window. Lucy opened the driver's side and got in to start the SUV.

"Yeah, it kind of blows," he admitted, managing a smile. "Let me just grab my bag."

He went back to his car and turned it off, taking his keys and bag, making sure he had his wallet before he returned to the girls.

The SUV had difficulty navigating the streets and they drove slow, Lucy gripping the steering wheel. Marcello learned they were from Massachusetts, too, and were renting an Airbnb to enjoy winter sports for the week during their college winter break. When Lucy nearly slid off the road, they decided to head back to their Airbnb since it was close by. Marcello hated the idea of driving all the way home in this weather, but he supposed the plows would be out and he'd just go slow and get home late.

"Oh god, I just remembered," Megan said as they pulled into the snow covered driveway of a little, yellow house. "We barely have service here."

"Is there wifi?" Marcello asked. "I just need to make that call and text some family."

"Yes, and there's a phone, actually. Which we both thought was weird because like what is it, 2005?" Lucy asked, laughing. "Who has landlines anymore?"

They went inside and stomped off their shoes on the mat. The girls shed their clothes and boots and they invited Marcello to do the same, allowing them to dry by the heater. Lucy retrieved the Wifi password for him, which he used to first google who to call about plowing. He found a number and got no one, then tried a few more that he found until someone finally picked up. Basically, they were all hands on deck and he gave them the location of the trail where his car was stuck and they said they'd get to it as soon as they could, but it'd likely be hours.

"Fuck," he said as he hung up.

"Hey, no sweat, you're like... gay, right?" Megan asked.

Lucy smacked her arm. "You can't just--"

"He's got a rainbow pin on his bag and--"

"Oh my god," Megan sighed.

"Um," Marcello said, blushing. "Yeah. Definitely gay."

"Okay, well you can totally stay here, right?" Megan asked, looking at Lucy, who nodded agreeably.

"We're not psycho murderers, promise," Megan added.

Marcello laughed a little. "I'm also not," he said. "Alright. Uh. Let me text my boyfriend..."

MARCELLO: Hey, so sorry. Went for a hike in NH and it snowed. I'm stuck. Long story, but bad service and dying battery.

"Hey, do either of you have an iPhone charger?" he asked. It turned out they were both Droid users and of course the one he'd packed was in his car, so he was out of luck. He kept typing.

[cont.]: Be home as soon as I can tomorrow. Love you.

He stared at his phone, seeing how long it was taking to go through when he looked up at the Wifi. It was down to one bar. He sighed, holding his phone. He powered the screen down, hoping to preserve battery and praying it would go through. As he waited, he chatted with the girls who were very nice but extremely nosy.

Finally, it looked like the text went through just as he saw a couple messages from Levi pour in as the service restored. Before he could read them, his phone died. He wanted to cry, honestly, but he had to keep it together as there was nothing he could do. He was just glad he'd gotten the text through. Too bad he had no one's phone number memorized and he hadn't thought to write it down before or he'd at least call his twin.

He needed a distraction.

"Hey, do you want me to cook dinner? I'm a professional chef," he said, hoping to dodge more questions from them and offer them something up for his gratitude. They were very pleased to accept the offer.

Levi worked through the day, focusing on making sure his oil changes went okay. He was moved up to working on a car with one of the other employees after lunch and was grateful to be able to get in there and really show off his skills.

He felt like he'd done a good job of it when the other said he was impressed after checking over his work, and he smiled at him, giving him thanks.

He went to clean up at the end of the day, wiping the grease from himself before changing out of his uniform and into his clothes.

When he was all cleaned up, he checked his phone, furrowing his brows when he didn't see a message from Marcello. He wasn't sure if that meant he didn't want food or if he'd forgotten, so he typed up a quick message.

LEVI: Hey, I'm going to head out. Did you want dinner?

He sent the message and then went to punch out before hopping in his car. He figured he could check his messages closer to home because there were some good, fast places out that way.

[enchantress-arc]

At some point, I'd like to try a bit of hypnotic dominance through submission. I'd like to drop one of my adorable toys into trance, lock them in place, and tease them for a little while. I want to make them as aroused as possible. Caress them in their most sensitive spots, keep giving them suggestions that make them more desperate over and over and over until there isn't a single thought running through their head. I want to break their pretty little mind, filling it with a need to feel release, to feel pleasure, and keep going until that need is all that remains. I want to put them into a heat stronger than anything they've experienced before. I want to make them focus, and direct all of that need, that list towards me, towards my body. And then I want to lay back. I want to lay down on a nice, soft, comfy bed, and present my body. I want to raise my hand, snap my fingers, and undo those little mental restraints, vines, ropes, chains, whatever they had felt binding them. I want to see them squirm and fall, with all of that heat and desperation and pleasure overwhelming them. And I want to give them a command.

"Take me. Do whatever you want to me. You're a mindless little toy in heat, and that lust must be so unbearable, so overwhelming. So take it out on me. Fuck me. Ruin me. Pleasure yourself with my body. You're a good thrall, and you deserve it. Take my gift to you, my body, my pleasure, and satiate that need that grows stronger with every waking second. I want that empty little mind of yours to follow every instinct your body leads it towards. And I know that, more than anything, it's telling you to fuck me. So give in. Use me. Be a good thrall, and fuck your mistress for however long it takes until you're satisfied."

I want to feel them inside of me. I want to feel them, entirely unable to control themselves, unable to understand the concept of self control, following every little urge their body gives them, all directed at me,focused on my body, on pleasuring themselves to and with me. I want my empty, hypnotized toy to fuck me like an animal in heat. And I want to see the adorable, flustered looks in their faces once they're finished, when I snap my fingers once again and bring them back to their usual state, and realize what I've made them do. To see that pretty, obedient toy realize how easy it was to turn them into that, nothing more than a vessel for their lust with no inhibitions whatsoever, that even with giving them permission to do whatever they wanted, I was still in control. That even fucking me, ruining me, using my body in any way they can imagine is still an act of submission. I want them to ruin me, and ruin themselves in the process. And, given that they belong to me, that is exactly what they'll do.

[kiefbowl]

i'm curious about your thoughts on medical transition, which you've said you aren't against. for me, the medical modifications i've made to my body are more about the material qualities of my body than a specific 'gender goal' - my breasts caused back and neck pain, i didn't want to be able to get pregnant, when i was on testosterone it was equally about the potential effect on my chronic health conditions as it was the aesthetics. but i also feel like i have a pretty different relationship to the concepts of gender and having a body than some trans people seem to, in both public and private. i don't think people should be rushing down a checklist of medical procedures without personal reflection and i think the social pressure to do a 'full' transition for the 'right' reasons is getting worse and will have (and has already had) ill effects. but i don't really think that's something policy can address effectively.

anyway. interested in your thoughts!

Well, to clarify - I think well informed adults get to decide these things for themselves. I don't think it's necessarily a good or best choice, and I don't think most people are well informed about these things. I can concede, though, that I don't know the particulars of everyone's life, so how can I objectively say what has been beneficial to someone's life and what hasn't. For example, if you were to ask me in a vacuum and divorced from all contexts if a nose job is better than someone attempting suicide, unequivocally my answer is yes of course. But I don't think a nose job is the root of what's causing someone's suicidal thoughts. People want nose jobs not because they're perceiving their nose as correctly ugly. But also, can I imagine how horrible the ceiling of bullying is to push someone into that headspace? Yeah, of course. My hope is that someone who's not a cosmetic surgeon intervenes first.

Cosmetic surgeons though...it doesn't behoove them to provide alternate ways of thinking. They're also not psychologists. They have to sell surgery to make money. Every incentive is there to agree with you that you're right: you're unhappy because you are capital U Ugly! Or capital WM Wrongly Made! And surgery will give you that happiness. I don't trust them, I don't like them, I don't think they do good work.

I will be frank about my own body right now, I've mentioned this before, but people can get weird about it - I have extremely large breasts. I'm not going to post a pic to prove it, so you'll just have to trust me. I've had above sized breasts since twelve, they are extremely cumbersome, I do think they've impacted my body's health in negative ways. When I was 20, I pursued breast reduction but wasn't willing to jump through the hoops asked of me to get insured, so I dropped it. Looking back now, I don't regret it, but I do wonder how my life would have been different if I had gone through with it. When I get the itch, when I think what a little fat off and a tiny lift could impact my life, I research like crazy. Each time, the older I get, the more dubious I am that I could get the magical results I really want. I can't get any surgeon to give me confidence they could prioritize what I prioritize. They can talk a big game, try to sell me, but they can't give me the confidence I need to ensure they wouldn't go beyond the changes I would want and make sure I wouldn't lose sexual feeling in my breasts. I think I'm a highly skeptical with a big bullshit detector, and if you really push a plastic surgeon to explain how they would achieve or avoid something, I find they come up empty. Maybe other people have different experiences, but I find they just push statistics at me. Let me tell you something: losing sexual feeling in my breasts would feel like ruining my life more than the bullshit I put up with having big boobs. I'm not willing to risk "only happens to 5%" or whatever. And that isn't even how pushy they are to make me feel like I need a huge lift and reshape, push how sexy I could be if I would just trust them to make "the perfect breast". It's humiliating to me.

This is all to say that I am not unsympathetic to why women look to cosmetic surgeons for diverse reasons, and if a woman has gone that route and it's impacted her life for the better, that's awesome and I have no interest in changing her mind.

But to your point about gender transition (which I'll use that term for the sake of being understood, but I don't think those words are accurate), I do see anecdotally trans influencers (or just GNC influencers) that appear to be pushed into more and more surgery. Not only is the pressure there to make content, but I think it's downstream of what's going to be an issue for most people seeking out cosmetic surgeries: these surgeries aren't fixing the root of the issue and can never feel complete. You can't change your sex, these surgeries are superficial - so they don't give the desired results long term. That breaks my heart honestly, because surgeries of this kind are not reversible. And the people who win out are surgeons who are happy to charge you again and again.

When it comes to policy - I don't think the solution is to address only gender transition. The entire industry should be under scrutiny. However, this will always run up against the issue of defining the difference between a "necessary" surgery and a "cosmetic" surgery, and I'd rather be in the camp that says "well informed adults get to decide these things for themselves" than push for legal repercussions for quote unquote purely cosmetic surgery. Downwind of that is some nasty stuff, like denying abortion or denying disabled people certain care, among other things we could imagine.

[emsdevs]

Cookies and Cargo

Noah and Mateo AU

a/n: i love love loved writing this part! i feel like i've written the boys interacting with every but ängeli so i wrote the three of them together for this part! enjoy! (also the boys are 7 in this one) ♥️

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Nico Hischier Masterlist | Noah and Mateo AU Masterlist

The boys had been attached to you all day. You’re not sure what’s gotten into them, especially Mateo, since he usually goes for Nico first, but you’re definitely not complaining. They haven’t let you out of their sight all morning, and your heart is so full you don’t even care that you haven’t been able to clean the house today. You’re just overjoyed that your boys still want to spend time with you. They’re getting older, and you know soon, they’ll be at the stage where hanging out with their mom is weird. Hopefully, they’ll still want to spend time with you then sometimes. 

Today, they’ve made you sit and watch movies with them, build a fort (a favorite activity of theirs since Jack and Luke came over when you and Nico redid the boys’ room a couple of years back), and now they’ve dragged you to the kitchen, begging for homemade chocolate chip cookies. Baking is a hobby of yours, so you’re glad to indulge the boys. You help them both into their aprons before putting on your own. Soon the three of you have everything set out and ready to measure. 

“Mama, can we please have some music to listen to?” Noah gives you the doe eyes that he got from his father, and you can’t say no. 

“Of course, baby,” you reach for your phone and begin to play some Dierks Bentley. Country music doesn’t really bother you, even if it isn’t your favorite, but Nico has been miserable ever since Jack and Luke got the boys hooked on it. Their faces instantly light up after hearing one of their favorite artists, and then they’re ready to work. They’re wonderful helpers, listening to every word you say and following directions perfectly. 

They help you measure out everything, Noah insisting on being the one to scrape the extra flour and sugar off the top of the measuring cups so you have the perfect amount. Mateo, on the other hand, begged to be the one to crack the eggs, always loving to make a mess. It’s not long before they start talking again.

“Mama, how long until baby Lena can help us bake?” Noah questions beside you. You supposed that would be the real reason why they’ve been so attached to you recently. Ever since you and Nico sat the boys down to tell them they’d have a baby sister soon, who you’ve since decided to name Elena, they’ve both managed to be right by your side as much as possible. You can tell they’ll be the most protective big brothers.

“Well, she’ll be here in just four months, but she’ll have to grow a little bigger before she can help us bake. She’ll have to be big and strong like both of you,” you gently try to explain that it will take a while for Elena to be big enough to really play with them.

“Don’t worry, Mama. We’ll help her get big and strong!” Mateo chimes in.

“Yeah, Mama! Me and Mateo can help Lena!” the boys still struggle to say her full first name, but they’re so excited to be adding to the family.

“Well, I’m so happy that you two want to help Elena. How about for now you help me get these cookies on a pan?”

“Yes!” the boys shout in unison. They help you cover the cookie sheet in cookies before you place it in the oven on your own. While you’re loading the dishwasher, the boys have turned their attention back to their music, having a dance party in the middle of the kitchen. Soon, though, they hear the front door open and go running to meet their father in the entryway. You hear his footsteps approaching the kitchen while their’s are running toward their playroom. A moment later, you feel familiar hands wrapping around you to hold your stomach as you wipe down the counter.

“I thought I told you to take it easy. You have some precious cargo,” Nico leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder.

“I wonder whose idea it was to give me precious cargo,” Nico tried for years to talk you into having one more kid. Not too long ago, you gave in, and you’re so glad you did. Nico would never force you into anything, so it was one hundred percent your decision, and you’re overjoyed that you’re family is growing. “Besides, the boys wanted me to make cookies with them.”

“Mhmm. Did you also have a part in building that fort in the living room?”

“They built it! I was just supervising,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“What am I gonna do with you, Ängeli?” he laughs a little before kneeling in front of you, putting him at eye level with your growing tummy. “How’s my other girl doing? Hi Lena baby,” he presses a kiss to your stomach. “You being good for your Mama, sweet girl?”

“I thought I was your sweet girl?” you tease him.

He stands back up, leaning in but stopping just before your lips can connect, “You’re always my sweet girl, Ängeli. Just gotta show my baby girl some love too.” He leans in the rest of the way then, connecting your lips in a kiss. However, it doesn’t last long because two pairs of footsteps come barreling toward the kitchen. 

“Mama! Mama!” Mateo is yelling, of course.

“Are the cookies done?” Noah comes to grab onto your hand while Mateo tries to climb his father until he gets picked up. A few seconds later, the timer for the cookies goes off, sending the boys and their father into a fit of giggles. You move to take the pan out of the oven before Nico sits Mateo down on the counter and beats you to it. He sets the pan on a cooling rack beside the oven, and immediately after taking the ovenmit off, he tries to grab a cookie.

You smack at his hand, causing the twins to laugh once again, “You gotta wait til they cool, Neeks.” He laughs before grabbing your phone from the countertop, switching the country playlist to something you all can enjoy.“Well then, let’s waste some time while they cool,” he drags the last word out a bit. Then, he grabs your hand, spinning you in a circle, getting the boys to join in on the dance party. You couldn’t imagine your life any different, but you couldn’t wait for the change that would soon be happening. You knew Elena would be so loved, and you hope she’ll love being part of the family as well.

a/n: surprise!!! i hope y'all like the little plot twist!! also just so everyone knows baby girl's name is pronounced like "uh-lay-nuh" so her little nickname is pronounced "lay-nuh" :)

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @puckmedude @dancerbailey3

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[myloveforhergoeson]

hi friends

as i said in this post, it's well overdue the btr bloggers on this site had some time where we just flat-out told each other how much we appreciate each other!

whether you share your own thoughts about the show, write, draw, make edits, or simply lurk - we all make this small fandom go round! and i'd love it if this SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1ST - we took some time to let each other know!

below the cut, please find some messages you can copy and paste to leave in the ask box, the comment section, someone's dms, etc of your favorite btr creators/mutuals/followers/accounts. ideally, this doesn't even stay on tumblr, regardless if other fans don't know about it. take these messages to ao3, Instagram, wattpad, bluesky, anywhere where you follow someone who posts btr content you appreciate!

and finally, every fandom could use a day like this honestly. i do not care if someone copies this entire post and spreads it into their own circles. in fact - PLEASE do!

thank you for listening - everything you may need is under here!! <3

hi again - a quick note from me: please find a handful of copy and paste messages to send to your fav btr creators... but more than anything i encourage you to send your own kind words and praises to them first!!! i know that words can be hard, and sending something to someone you don't know can be scary, so if you do so require, using the templates is just fine :) i'll break them up into content sections below. if i missed any, or anyone has some of their own to share, please add on!!

general

got a fav btr blogger and you just don't know what to say to them? look no farther, i've got you covered! starting out from basic statements and going on to more specific with some fill in the blank elements :3 - hey! i love your btr posts, they always make me laugh! - i need all your btr posts on my blog IMMEDIATELY!!! - your btr posts have helped inspire me to make my own! - your btr headcannons are so interesting, they've helped me understand my favorite characters in a new way! - [SPECIFIC BTR POST] lives in my head rent free! - [SPECIFIC PIECE OF BTR CONTENT] is awesome! - your post about [SPECIFIC BTR HEADCANON] really got me thinking... do you have any more thoughts to share? i'd love to hear them! - reblog your fav btr posts again!!!!

for fic writers

someone's btr fic leave a lasting impression on you? love someone's analyzed a character and their dynamic? put your favorite character in a Situation? written ship content? or oc content? or x reader content? doesn't matter if it was written when the show first came out or if it was written yesterday - let them know either here or on their preferred writing platform! - i always look forward to your next writing project! - [SPECIFIC STORY] is one of my favorite btr works ever! - i love the way you write [CHARACTER/DYNAMIC/SHIP ETC] - i'm subscribed to all your writing platforms - i never miss a story! - this [LINE/PARAGRAPH/THEME IN STORY ETC] in your [WORK] really spoke to me! - your [CROSSOVER/AU/CANON-DIVERGENCE] was so interesting! i loved seeing the characters in a new setting! - writers love questions about their work... ever wonder why they wrote something a certain way or diverged from canon to make something true? ask them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - reblog and share links to your favorite stories on your own blog!! - has someone ever made something for one of YOUR written works? let them know how much you appreciate it too!!

for editers

from videos, to gifs, to fanmixes, to posters, to meme makers and soooo much more, there are no shortage of wonderful editers in our circle!! ever wanted to tell them how much you loved their stuff? now's your big chance!!!!!!! - can't stop thinking about that [CHARACTER/SHIP/ETC] edit you made! the clips and song you chose matched them perfectly! - the gifsets you posted of [SCENE/CHARACTER/SHIP/ETC] were beautiful! i can tell you put a lot of time and effort into making them - i am obsessed with your [CHARACTER/SHIP/ETC] fanmix!! the songs were well chosen - i've found some new favs through the playlist!! - your btr edited memes always make me laugh! - reblog your favorite works to you blog again! - if you have questions about the programs the person used, what inspired their choices, how long it took them - ask!!!!! ask!!!!!!!!!!!!! - someone ever make an edit based off of something you said or made? be sore to let them know how much it meant to you!

for artists

be it from the basics of pencil and paper all the way up to some fancy digital program, we love our artists regardless of their medium!! someone make a piece of fan art you love? comics you can't get enough of? drew your fav in just the right way? or depicted an oc or self-insert you adore? they deserve to know!!!!! - your artwork is so beautiful! [SPECIFIC PIECE] is my favorite! - this artstyle is so unique - i love seeing my favorite characters drawn this way - you depict [CHARACTER/SCENE/SHIP/ETC] so well! it's gorgeous! - the time and dedication you put into your craft is clear - your artwork is incredible! - want to learn more about this artist's choices or medium? ask!! - be sure to reblog your fav pieces to your blog again! - has anyone made a piece of art based on something you've made? tell them how thankful you are for it!!!!!

i know there are MANY more categories of fandom blogger out there, but i believe this covers the main types. please feel free to add on your own categories if you feel so inclined :3

while these are all intended for the ask box, dms, or comment section, if you want to make a post, be sure to tag the specific people you want to appreciate!! and if everyone uses the tag:

#btr creator appreciation day 2025

we'll all have a nice collection of everything everyone shared (on tumblr at least!)

that's all i have for now, so i'll step down off my soap box. see yall SATURDAY FEBRUARY 1ST!!!!!!!!!!!! <333

(tagging those who seemed interested: @icegirl2772 @fiyero3305 @happinessismagicc @partiallypearl @day-dreams22 @naquey @invadericee @uncarved-turnip @elitheidiot1 @cant-get-enough-btr-forever @bunnyfern)

[welp-here-goes-nothing]

Oh hey look. ANOTHER one

I would like to preface this by saying that I know literally nothing about Tim Drake. The extent of my knowledge of him is from the occasional batfam skit I would get on tiktok and the like seven pages of the Wayne family adventures webtoon I've read. Not kidding when I say I have his wiki fandom page open in another tab so then I know what the fuck happens and how the fuck he became robin in the first place as I write this. So this will probably be OOC for him.

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"Bruce you need to stop, you put one of Riddler's men in the ICU." Carson scolded his husband.

"They deserved it." Bruce grunted.

"Did they? Bruce they were twenty, it may not have been the best but they had a life. Now they have six broken ribs, a shattered femur, blunt force trauma to the head, and a punctured lung. What happened to your no excessive brute force rule?" Carson replied.

"Oh you're one to talk. You did the exact same thing to the Joker when you found out he killed Jason." Bruce spat back.

"You're right I did, and maybe me telling you all of this is a little hypocritical. But at least I directed my anger towards the man who actually killed Jason and not any living creature that may remotely look a little villainous, or like they might be having a criminal thought." Carson rebutted.

"Oh well I'm sorry that I'm delivering justice and trying to avenge Jason. You aren't even acting like you care that he's dead!" Bruce snapped.

"Because Jason isn't the first person I've lost Bruce! I am over two hundred thousand years old, I have seen entire civilizations die, bustling planets that took to the stars become barren wastelands. I'm sorry that I'm not handling Jason's death the same way you are by going on a rampage and deciding to be judge, jury, and executioner for anybody who looks at me funny! But if you think for one minute that I don't miss Jason, that I don't wish I could bring him back, or go back to that night and save him. I can bring an entire universe to its knees with a snap of my fingers. Stars and suns can go out if I cough at them, solar systems will crumble if I look at them the wrong way. I have all of this power but I can't bring my own son back. Do you really think that doesn't eat away at me every day? Knowing I can do all these incredible things that people can only dream of and yet I couldn't be there to save him. Do you really think I don't miss Jason? Or that I don't blame myself for his death every single day? If you really believe that I don't care that Jason is dead then I don't want to talk to you. I don't even want to be here right now." Carson snapped.

The manor was silent as Carson made his way towards the front door, his hand was on the doorknob when he looked back at Bruce.

"I'll come back when my husband is back. Not some bloodthirsty vigilante who thinks I'm some heartless bitch and that I don't care about my son." Carson said before leaving.

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It had been a few weeks since the fight between Carson and Bruce and true to his word Carson had yet to come back to the manor. Clark had visited Carson multiple times and tried to get him to come back but Carson was adamant on not returning until Bruce had apologized for what he said. Truth be told Bruce more than wanted to apologize for what he had said that day but he just didn't know how to. He had tried to send multiple texts conveying how he realized saying that Carson didn't care about Jason's death was wrong and he never should have said something like that but none of them sounded right. Hell he had even driven to Carson's house a couple of times but he was at a loss for words on what to say before he could knock on the door so he ended up leaving.

Carson was in his kitchen baking some cookies when there was a knock at his door. Stopping his mixer and pausing the music he was listening to he walked to his front door and opened it, surprised to see Alfred standing on his porch with a young boy behind him.

"Alfred, what a surprise! And who might this be?" Carson elated as he looked at the boy standing behind him.

"Tim Drake, I'm here to save Batman." The boy answered.

"Oh?" Carson said raising an eyebrow as he looked at Alfred.

"May we come in? I am afraid this is a matter that should be discussed discreetly." Alfred replied.

Carson nodded his head stepping aside to let the two in. Once inside he closed the door behind them and led them to the kitchen as the timer went off for the batch of cookies currently in his oven.

"Alright so what's going on." Carson inquired as he pulled the tray of cookies out.

"It appears Master Bruce, and Master Dick have been apprehended by two face." Alfred explained.

"Is Dick okay? Do you know?" Carson asked almost immediately.

"They are fine, for now. Though you know how Mr. Harvey can be." Alfred warned.

"So that's why we're gonna go rescue them! And we need your help." Tim chimed in.

"Why not call Clark? I'm sure it'd be a lot easier to get them back if you took Clark with you." Carson replied.

"It would raise many questions if superman was seen rescuing Batman and Nightwing. We need someone of your caliber." Alfred answered.

"I'm sorry but I can't." Carson said turning away from the two.

"Why not?! Isn't Batman your husband? And Nightwing he's your son right? That means you should definitely come with us to save them." Tim interjected, confused as to why Carson refused.

"Ha, you're a smart kid. Batman is my husband but we've hit a rough patch. I doubt he'll be happy to see me. And I know Nightwing, he can handle himself." Carson said.

"I am sure Master Bruce would be more than happy to see you Master Carson." Alfred replied in a hopeful tone.

"I doubt it. You know how we left things, but..... If things go south, more than they already have. Call me and I'll be backup." Carson said.

Alfred nodded knowing this was the best they were going to get from Carson as things were still rocky between him and Bruce. With a parting gift to Tim from Carson of one of Dick's old robin suits the two left, leaving Carson to his baking and his thoughts. He looked down at the golden band on his arm that pulsed with light momentarily and Carson thought about going with Alfred and Tim but decided against it.

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Laughter filled the manor as everyone sat down at the dinner table to eat, a delicious looking feast prepared by Alfred filled the air with a mouth watering aroma. Smiles plastered everyone's faces as they idly chatted about their days.

"And the Riddler was all 'ahhh don't hurt me!' and I was all 'I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm putting you behind bars where you belong!' It was so funny seeing his face as he realized he got beat by a thirteen year old!" Tim exclaimed as he explained his patrol with Bruce in great detail.

"Well glad you had fun bud." Clark smiled as he dished himself some potatoes.

"You two seem to be quite the duo. Reminds me of somebody else I know when they first started out as Robin." Carson said in a teasing tone as he looked at Dick.

"Hey! I was not that excited about taking down criminals." Dick replied trying to defend himself.

"You were worse." Bruce chuckled causing the table to erupt in a small fit of laughter.

The rest of dinner continued like this filled with happy chatter and laughter bringing a bright air to the previously dark and solemn manor. After dinner Tim all but begged Dick to show him some acrobatic moves down in the cave, which the latter happily obliged to leaving Bruce, Clark, and Carson to their own devices upstairs.

"He seems to be adjusting really well. I'm glad he's doing so good here." Clark smiled.

"Me too. I was worried for a bit that his motivation would be fueled by revenge after what happened to his parents but he really seems like he just wants to make the world a better place." Bruce said.

"Speaking of. What is with us adopting kids who have dead parents. First Dick, and then Jason, and now Tim. Starting to think we have a penchant for adopting traumatized orphans." Carson said causing the other two men to laugh.

"Well someone has to. And who better than a traumatized orphan and two aliens." Bruce chuckled.

"He's got a point." Clark said.

"True. Well we should probably head down to the cave to make sure Dick isn't trying to twist Tim into a human pretzel." Carson said making his way to the hidden elevator.

[majorproblems77]

Four. By Hylia do Four. Honestly I don't have many ideas for an actual prompt but since I saw that you love Sky, maybe Four looking up to Sky (since he's the hero right after him) and Sky feeling guilty for the curse and the like. Or could be them bonding over it if you want it to be fluffy lol

(this was fun, and good practice for me, I dont write four very often! But this was fun!)

Link It was amazing to hear from you, It calms my soul to know that you are in good company on your quest this time. As for what you've told me, It surprised me to learn that you are travelling with the Skyloftian hero of legend himself. I did a little digging for you and from what Zelda tells me The skyloftian hero was a kind-hearted man who put others before himself in every way.

I understand your concerns, but Sky seems the type to air your concerns too. He doesn't seem the type to not be observant and if you've been avoiding the conversation for long enough he's probably taken note by now. He might even try to speak to you himself. Remember link you're a hero too, and im sure he knows that and trusts you. But your inner thoughts seem to be fighting again. Maybe you should ask your brothers in mind to talk it out for you. Maybe ask him if you can hold that sword you keep telling me about. I've still not found out how exactly he forged that thing with no equipment to speak off but my search continues.

Just keep that in mind. Write soon Grandpa

"Hey four! You got a letter from home again?" Wind bounded over to the smithy as he put the letter back in his bag. Musing over its contents.

"I did, i asked my grandpa for some advice." He said softly, smiling at his bag before facing the sailor. "How can I help you, sailor?"

"Sky's been asking for you. Not sure why, he's doing his 'just do it but nicely' voice again." The sailor sat beside him. "Probably to spar with him. I know pretty much everyone else has by this point."

"I'll go and see him."

Grandpa was right...

"Thanks, smithy!" The sailor shouted as he ran off towards the captain.

He walked through the camp, smiling to the others as he looked to Time expectantly. the man shrugged his shoulders and pointed to a gap in the trees to the other clearing they'd made into another part of camp.

"Sky?"

"Hey, four!" The skyloftian smiled, and picked up a training sword.

"Wind said you were looking for me?" He questioned, crossing his arms as he looked to the skyloftian.

"Yes..." The skyloftian paused, looking behind the smith before smiling again.

'That was weird...'

"Fancy a spar!" He waved the sword in his hand, before throwing it towards the smith. It landed on the ground with a clatter.

"Sure." He looked to the sword on the ground as Sky picked up his own weapon. "Any particular reason Sky?"

"No." He rolled the sword through his hand. "you're the only one I've not had the chance to spar with yet."

A chance to spar with Sky is an opportunity we shouldn't pass up!

"That sounds like fun."

You know he's only doing this to test how good you are. It's the logical choice unless he needs to speak to us.

"Great!" The skyloftian readed his training sword holding it across his body in a defensive stance. "Okay. So I'll maintain a defence, if you try to break through it we can see..."

Why's he doing this in the first place? Does he not think we can do anything?

Sky's seen us fight plenty of times. It dosent make any sense.

Unless he wants us to get in close.

He wants to talk to us. But doesn't know how to approach

We aren't exactly the easiest person to approach.

"Four?" The skyloftains question broke through his inner turmoil. As he blinked back to reality.

"Oh yes!" Focus link... "Ready when you are."

The skyloftian raised his sword, sitting in a defensive stance again.

This is highly irregular.

You think he's still on that conversation we had the other night?

The timeline talk?

Where we very much looked upset that we were second on the list.

Sky's direct successor...

You think we make him proud?

"Four?" Nothing. "Smithy?"

"Link!"

"Im here. Im here." Stupid overthinking. "I'm good."

"If you're not up for it I can ask Wars to spar instead." The skyloftian placed his sword down. "Everything okay?" He approached and sat on the ground. Patting the grass beside him in an invitation to sit down.

"I'm fine Sky." Now isn't the time to make him think you are anything less. He sat beside the skyloftian loth of them looking to the sky above them.

"Okay well now your lying to me." Sky didn't look at him, his eyes tracing a cloud that swam laizly across the sky.

"Im not."

"What is it really?"

"I..."

"I noticed you've been avoiding speaking to me directly. Where you can speak to the rancher easily. Or even the captain, or Hyrule." He sat up, pulling his knees to his chest.

HE KNOWS?

"Did I do something?" The skyloftian asked, his eyes searching for any sense of an answer for the smith.

Sky feel's bad? Why does Sky feel bad?

"You've not done anything directly."

"Then me being here then." The Skyloftian thought back. "You've only been avoiding me since..." Realisation shined in his eyes as he visibly deflated. "Oh..."

That was not the reaction i was expecting

Wait, sky looks sad. Sky looks so sad!

His eyes! Did you see that?

"The only explanation is that now you know where we fall in the timeline. You wish it wasn't me before you."

Where did he get that idea from?

"What? Sky?"

"Or you're ashamed."

"Sky... Sk im not ashamed of you, I. Oh god."

I wish we'd split. I'll give him the talk he needs.

You are the last person I would send into this

And what's that meant to mean?!

"Im sorry. Im sorry I failed to stop the darkness and that you had to live the life you have." The skyloftian looked away, gripping the corners of his sailcloth as he took a steadying breath.

What?

Sky dont say that!

"Sky. My life as a hero has been eventful yeah. But I wouldn't change it for the world. I dont think any of us would."

"But you've gone through so much pain, lost loved ones. Lost friends." He gripped his hand. Covering the back of his right hand with his left.

"If he was here my friend would slap you."

I miss him.

"I've been avoiding you... yeah. But not because of that."

"Then why?"

Come on! We can do this!

Sky is the kindest of us, if anyone gets it it's him

He took a breath before looking the skyloftain square in the face. "Because. I look up to you. I have my whole life."

"What?" The skyloftian sounded genuinely shocked to hear this. His face swam with a mix of emotions.

"The hero of Sun, or the hero of skyloftian legend. is a story that people in my time read to their young before they go to bed." He fiddled through his bag. "I dont have a copy on me now, but Ill ask my grandpa to send me a copy with his next letter."

"It is?" Sky asked. "I'm a story?"

"Yes. It tells of a man from the clouds clad in green chosen by the gods to save the world. He broke a path through the sky itself to defeat a rising evil so dark it would shroud the world in darkness forever." He sighed. "When you told us about your journey, I discovered that I was the only one to know of your legends like that..."

"You figured your place."

"I did."

"So, you're a successor that can't have come much after me. A few generations at most."

"I think so."

They sat in silence for a moment before Sky shifted again, placing his hands behind him as he looked skyward again. "When you get that book from your grandpa, I'd like to read it if that's okay. I'd like to see how history remembered me."

"If we make it to my time you can ask Zelda, I know she's done a lot of research into the hero of old."

Sky gave a laugh as he stood, offering a hand to the smith. "Come on, we should get back."

"Sure thing." He smiled, taking the offered hand and standing. "We should 'spar' more. Helps quiet the thoughts."

"I can agree with you there."

[cardinalmoroni]

self-indulgent self-insert OC (notes & thoughts below the cut)

in the ministry from era three onwards. i also don't care if it makes no sense that he has the facepaint. this entire design was just based on things i find hot cool.

also yes that's moroni as in the mormon moroni. if growing up LDS is going to give me religious trauma, i can at least make jokes about it. when i reminded my partner who moroni was, he lost his shit while i just sat going HOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!

changed its name upon joining the ministry purely because he wanted nothing to do with his previous life.

has to have multiple stoles because he'll slip one off while doing something and then forget to pick it back up. lost property knows him by name.

he jokes a lot about being the worst kind of satanist because he focused more on getting all the clerical work done rather than indulging in any kind of sin. this is how it rose to the position of Cardinal though - even satanic churches need to fill out their paperwork.

mostly though, he works hard so he can play harder later. it will make plans to be hungover and take days off in the name of sloth and before anyone can panic about nobody doing his work, they realise that it's already complete and on his desk.

tries to be nice and patient with the other siblings of sin but then goes straight to confession to bitch and moan like "sister warren tried telling me that she couldn't do ANY of her work because the printer was out of paper, even though a stack was LITERALLY ON TOP OF IT. is she lazy or just stupid? there's got to be some kind standardised testing before they let people into the office." meanwhile terzo is inside and trying not to laugh.

at least once gets incredibly drunk and goes on a rant to terzo about his "stupid sexy pope robes and your stupid sexy voice, and did they pick a papa designed specifically to hit as many of [his] kinks as possible?" he wasn't even catholic, how can he have a priest kink and find the ministry's uniforms attractive?

tries to stay professional after this but of course, papa makes it difficult. constantly shoo-s him away in order to finish its work ("if you aren't going to help, at least stop distracting me"). one day shows up to his office like FINE. I FINISHED EVERYTHING EARLY. ARE WE DOING THIS OR WHAT?

they occasionally smash but it's never anything serious. moroni pines for terzo but knows that he'll never be for him alone because he's papa - he is for everyone.

doesn't find out about terzo being dragged off-stage/being killed for a while. when he finds out, it gets wasted and skips work without finishing it ahead of time which causes problems for everyone.

copia ends up being the one who tells him off, which just makes moroni's first impression of him even worse. but it gets back to work.

he tries SO hard to hate the cardinal but it's hard because. you know. copia is babygirl. they end up tentatively friends until copia ascends as emeritus IV, which refreshes all of moroni's pain.

then it's just angst nonstop, with moroni wanting to loathe the new papa but unable to do so when thinking of its friendship with copia. feels even worse when he realises that he's getting feelings for copia and it gets drunk, again, and ends up crying in copia's office.

nothing really comes of it besides a failed punch and a few drunken kisses - moroni finds it too painful to even consider trying anything more and probably breaks down screaming and crying before falling asleep there.

it's really awkward after. professionalism is attempted. a lot of sad, kicked-puppy glances across the room as their friendship is inevitably changed forever.